#i love me a set of big beautiful manly hands

[evansbby]

⭒✮▹𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: older husband!Ari Levinson x naive wife!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy!kink, smutt, dd/lg vibes, pregnancy!kink, breeding!kink, housewife!kink, lactation!kink, size difference,  age gap, innocence!kink, naive reader, 18+ only, minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ari finally comes home to his very pregnant wife.

𝐀/𝐍: I’m just surprised I didn’t write this sooner tbh. Enjoy!

“Honey, I’m home!”

Your husband’s booming voice echoes around the house, sending thrills up and down your spine. You feel a huge smile plaster itself on your face – despite the fact that you’ve been married to him for almost a year now, you still feel giddy like a little girl every time you hear him come home. You carefully set down the casserole that has just finished cooking, impatiently shaking your oven mitts off before making a beeline to the front door and launching yourself at your big, beefy husband.

“Ari!” You hug him hard, pressing your nose into his hard chest that smells so deliciously like him. Like fresh soap and his manly musk with a hint of salty seawater. Just him. And you can’t help but breath him in, trying your best to climb up his body and wrap your legs around his waist, which is obviously a hard task considering how big your belly has gotten. “Missed you so much,” you mumble against his solid body, loving the feel of his warm arms enveloping you into his embrace. You wish he’d hug you harder, completely crush your body against his like how he used to. Till you can’t breathe but in the best possible way.

But of course, he’s ten times more mindful of you now. Pregnancy and all.

“Baby,” Ari breathes, burying his nose in your hair and nuzzling the top of your head. He presses a bunch of kisses against your hairline, one hand already on your belly (its favourite place to be, as of late), stroking it softly while his other hand meanders down to your ass (his other favourite part of your body). “Mm, I missed you too, sweet girl. Missed your little body against me like this.”

He cups your face, tipping it upwards and lifting you slightly so he can plant a kiss to your lips. He was just so damn tall and big – kissing was a bit of a problem unless he bent down or picked you up. You didn’t mind, though. You loved how much bigger he was than you, how strong and beefy and muscular he looked.

And Ari’s genes were strong enough that he’d passed them down to his unborn children too. You were about eight months along with Ari’s twins in your belly. Both boys. Both bigger than average according to your last scan. And both extremely active and strong just like their daddy – you knew because of all the somersaults and kicks they were subjecting you to day after day. But it was worth it. Ari said that you were the always the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, but pregnancy just made you glow differently. And he’d get that fire in his eyes every time he looked at your belly growing his babies, and it made you feel so powerful, so sexy, so wonderful.

You’d only been married to Ari for a month before you’d found out you were pregnant. You’d met him less than a year ago, this business tycoon who’d swept you off your innocent feet. He was handsome, charming and respectful, and he’d proposed to you after only a few weeks. You’d said yes, of course. And he’d made it clear that he wanted a big family, a cute little housewife (you) who took care of him and his children. You were all too happy to oblige, because you wanted all those things too.

“How are my boys?” Ari whispers, cupping your belly with his huge palm. God, he was just so big – built strong like a wrestler yet also lithe and athletic. Not to mention so goddamned handsome! You couldn’t believe your luck. Some of your friends had told you that you were too young for a man like Ari. You were only fresh out of college and he was almost double your age and the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the country. That didn’t matter to you, though. You liked being his little baby, having him dote over you and spoil you (which he had done since the day he met you, and continued to do till this day).

And so what if he babied you all the time and made all your decisions for you? You liked giving up the control, and Ari was just so smart and level-headed, it just made sense to allow him to take over every aspect of your life.

“Your boys have been extra rowdy today.” You giggle as your husband continues to press kisses all over your face and neck, his long hair tickling you as he does so. “They keep kicking me like they want to come out already. How am I supposed to tell them they’re not due for another month?”

Ari smirks, easily picking you up with one arm like you’re a little baby yourself. His other hand is still splayed over your swollen stomach. He’d grown addicted to cupping your belly ever since the day you told him you were pregnant. It was a problem in the early days, when none of your friends and family knew yet your husband kept stroking your belly in front of them, a cocky look on his handsome face that all but gave everything away.

“I can’t wait till they come, but I also want to keep you pregnant just a little bit longer.” Ari murmurs, carrying you into the living room. He gives your ass a loud slap, the action making you yelp and clutch his muscular bicep as he grins. “You’re so sexy like this, baby. Have I ever told you that?”

“Only about a gazillion times,” you roll your eyes, but this earns you another hard slap on the ass and a warning look from your husband. You squeal, “Ari! That hurt!”

“You know not to roll your eyes at me, honey. I may have married you and knocked you up but you’re still my little baby.” Ari pats your bum and gives it a soft squeeze before kissing your cheek to make you smile. “And I’ve told you to call me daddy, princess.”

“Oh yeah, sorry daddy!”

“That’s okay, baby.”

You’d called Ari “daddy” during sex ever since he took your virginity on your first date almost a year ago. It just fit him; he took care of you so good and he was just so big and strong and dominant. Ari was really into it, always coaxing you to call him daddy – even outside the bedroom. And he’d always look so extremely smug when you’d inevitably slip and accidentally call him daddy in front of your friends and family.

But especially now that the two of you were married and lived in Ari’s big suburban mansion, he just went crazy every time he’d come home to you in your checkered apron, pregnant with his babies and calling him daddy. He’d told you once that it was his idea of heaven on Earth, and you were the one who’d given it to him.

“You have no idea how hot you look right now, baby.” Ari tells you as he takes a seat on his armchair and sets you on his lap. You’re still dwarfed by his huge size even when he’s sitting down with you on top of him, holding you securely on his knee like you’re his little baby. His gaze grows dark as he watches your breasts bounce slightly as he sits down, pink tongue peeking out to lick his lips hungrily. “I couldn’t concentrate at work, all I could think about was my baby wife, round with my children and taking care of my house in your cute little dress.”

You glance down at your dress, it’s one of many that Ari had bought for you. He had said that baby wives only ever wore dresses around the house so it was easier for their daddies to fuck them. You had absolutely no problem with that, seeing as you loved wearing the cute dresses he bought for you, and you also loved it whenever he’d slip his hand up the cotton material, or bent you over a random piece of furniture around the house and fucked the living daylights out of you.

Ari was a loving and doting husband, but sometimes he would get extremely rugged and rough with you. He’d tell you that you were his wife and it was your duty to bend over for him whenever he pleased. Sometimes, he’d watch you with lust-filled eyes while you did the housework around the house. And all he had to do was snap his fingers and you’d come running over to him.

He’d either push you down to your knees and make you suck him off till he was satisfied, or he’d bend you over the arm of the couch and fuck you fast and hard, calling you his cute little baby housewife, telling you how all your holes belonged to him only, because he was your husband and he owned you. And you’d whimper and mewl and wail and cry while he had his way with you, till he’d fill you up with his cum and then pull you upright, straighten your dress, slap your ass and send you back to your housework.

No wonder he knocked you up so quickly.

“Honey? You still here?” Ari bounces you on his lap and you blink before smiling up at him.

“Oh. Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Why would you need to think, baby? Daddy does all the thinking, remember? You just look pretty.” Ari bounces you on his lap again, making you giggle while his eyes once more zero in on your breasts. They’re so much bigger now that you’re pregnant, and Ari has been paying more attention to them than usual. In fact, your pregnant body in general has him incensed and feral. He’s always grabbing at you and pawing at you, squeezing and groping and stroking your every curve like he can’t get enough.

He reaches past you to grab the cold bottle of beer which you’d already set out for him on the coffee table. You watch him as he takes a deep swig, admiring how handsome he is. He’s got a defined jawline covered with his thick beard that makes him look more manly and virile than ever. A gorgeous sloped nose with a cute bump on it that you love to kiss, and high cheekbones smattered with freckles. He sports a golden tan almost all year round, as well as a wonderfully beefy, sun-kissed body that you can’t get enough of.

Even now, you slip your hand up and down his hard stomach, feeling his hairy, toned abs through his cotton shirt that’s stretched taught over them. God, he really was the hottest man alive. All the women that worked for him were crazy about him, including his secretary. But Ari had told you not to worry, that you were the love of his life and he’d waited forty years to find you, and he’d wait forty more to find you again.

“Dinner’s all ready for you.” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek because he looks so deliciously handsome and you can’t help it. “I made all your favourites, daddy. I think I’m getting better at cooking now.”

You’d struggled with cooking at the beginning of your marriage. You knew Ari expected you to be a good little housewife, but cooking was never your strongest suit. Ari hadn’t minded though, always finding it adorable when you’d sheepishly serve him burnt food that was borderline inedible. And then he’d order a takeaway and you’d both eat in front of the TV, and he’d lick the pizza sauce off the corner of your mouth before pulling you into his lap to make out.

But you’d wanted to be a good housewife for him, after all, Ari worked so hard to provide for you and he bought you whatever you wanted. He didn’t expect you to slave away in the kitchen, of course, but you figured he deserved a good homecooked meal once in a while. And so, you sifted through various cookbooks and online recipes and YouTube videos until you’d finally been able to cook something half decent. And Ari had been so proud of you when you’d served him a roasted chicken and mashed potatoes, and making you husband proud was all you really wanted to do.

Back in the present, Ari playfully chucks you under your chin, “You’re an amazing cook, sweetheart. I can’t wait to eat dinner. But I won’t lie, baby, right now I’m hungry for something else.”

His eyes go down to your chest again, and you smile demurely as thrills shoot down to your core. Ari’s big hands cup your breasts, squeezing them lewdly before tweaking your hard nipples through the thin material of your dress. You never really wore bras inside the house, and Ari was not one to complain about that. He grins wickedly when two wet spots appear on the fabric covering your nipples.

You’d started lactating recently, and Ari had been nothing short of thrilled about that. “Baby wives feed their daddies their mommy milk,” he’d told you, and of course, he was always right. You were scared at first, having him drink from you. But he’d been so ravenous, so hungry for your milk and the intimacy that came with doing something like that. How could you possibly say no?

Now, Ari fed from you all the time. It was almost a daily occurrence which almost always ended in mind-blowing sex.

Ari holds you close to him as he kisses down your neck, his hands slipping up your arms to push the straps of your dress down. Your breasts are painful and heavy as he frees them from the dress, your nipples already hard as glass but you still hiss as the cool air hits them, making them even more erect, if that was possible.

“Poor baby,” Ari coos, tweaking your nipple casually while you squirm in his arms, whimpering like a baby who needs to be tended to. That only incenses Ari more, and he gives your erect nipple a couple of flicks, making you gasp as he laughs wickedly. “Look at your sexy tits, all sore and heavy. They must really hurt, huh baby?”

You pout and nod, grabbing his forearm desperately, “Y-Yeah, they do. Daddy, plea–”

“My poor baby,” Ari continues, squeezing and groping to his heart’s content as droplets of your milk begin to leak. Your husband licks his lips, spreading the liquid all over your sore breasts, making you hornier than ever but he only smirks. “Bet you’ve been waiting all day for daddy to come home and breastfeed from you, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, please!” You whimper, jutting your chest out till your heavy breasts are almost smothering his face. And all he does is laugh, giving your nipple another hard pinch while you feel the tears of frustration well in your eyes. He reduced you to tears so easily, but it was only because you craved him so badly and didn’t like it when things didn’t go your way. He often teased you about this, calling you a needy, spoiled baby who lacked any type of patience.

Ari gives your nipple a light flick with is tongue, his blue eyes shining wickedly as your breath hitches. But then he lets out a feral growl, completely enveloping your nipple between his lips and sucking down hard. You whimper again, grabbing his hair and holding his head close to your breast as he begins to drink your milk, groaning, biting and licking at your nipple like a starved man.

“God, you have such sexy tits, baby.” He mumbles against your breasts, burying his face into them as he continues to suckle. He grabs your other tit and gives it a rough squeeze, kneading the soft flesh with his expert fingers. “And your mommy milk tastes so good.”

“Th-Thank you, daddy!” You manage to get out through all the different sensations you’re feeling. He’s still bouncing you up and down on his lap, his hard dick poking against your butt like a steel rod through his pants. Plus, his mouth working against your nipple is making you see stars, and you feel pleasure mixed with the relief from him draining the milk from your breast.

“Good girl with good manners,” Ari grunts approvingly, his voice slightly muffled as he lewdly takes your whole breast into his mouth (as much of it that fits) giving it a hearty suck while rocking you against him as he dry-humps his dick up into your clothed core. “Just like how daddy trained you to be. Fuck, baby. I bet none of my friends’ wives are as obedient and cute as you, huh?”

“N-No!” you agree with a yelp when he gives your ass a firm slap before grabbing a handful of your ass-cheek from under your dress and giving it a lewd jiggle. “D-Daddy, need you so bad!” You try to grab his hard dick out from the waistband of his pants but he easily slaps your hands away, making you pout and whine as he continues to suck your breasts.

“Let daddy have his meal first.” Ari scolds, slapping your butt again, harder this time, before focusing his attention to your other breast. He suckles you sweetly at first, before growing greedy once your milk starts flowing into his mouth. Incensed, he moans against your breast, grabbing your hips and repositioning you on top of him. He bounces you up and down straight on top of his crotch while he feeds from you, and you moan wantonly as your body begins to work itself up.

“B-But daddy, I waited all – ah! – I waited all day for you!” You pout, trying to grind down against your husband but he holds you in place, always wanting to control your pleasure and never letting you seek it out by yourself unless you had his permission.

Ari releases your nipple with a pop before grinning wolfishly down at you, a thoughtful look on his face as his hand splays itself on your belly once more. “Well, you were a good, patient baby today, weren’t you?”

“I was, I was!” He slips his hand down under your dress, quickly settling it between your legs while your breath hitches and eyes cloud over with lust and want. And all it takes is for his pointer finger to press down on your swollen, panty-covered clit and you’re cumming. You squeak and clutch on to his muscular forearms as you orgasm, your other hand going down to hold his hand in place between your legs as you hump and ride against it. Your panties are completely soaked through and your entire body is buzzing with sensitivity as you pant his name.

Ari looks extremely smug as he watches you orgasm in his lap, leaving a sizable pool of your wetness on his clothed leg. Casually, he tweaks your nipple, his blue eyes trained on your face as you gasp in response, your body twitching in his arms.

“You’re so sensitive now, baby. I bet I could make you cum without even touching you.” Ari says, looking proud and smug at the same time.

“S-Sorry,” you shoot him a sheepish look once you’ve come down from your high, “can’t help it sometimes, daddy. Specially since I can’t ever touch myself when you’re not here.”

That was one of Ari’s firm rules that you had to follow. At the beginning of your marriage, Ari made it clear that baby wives like you had to follow all the rules that your husband set. That included not speaking to other men without his permission, always doing what he said, always telling him where you were, and of course, never touching yourself without his permission – certainly never when you were alone in the house.

“Dumb babies like you don’t know how to touch yourself.” Ari answers, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slips his hand out from between your legs, licking his fingers lewdly. “That’s why you need daddy to tend to you all the time. Now tell me, baby, how would you like to be fucked tonight?”

In next to no time at all, your big, beefy husband has you on all fours on your king-sized bed upstairs. A feral energy had overtaken him when you’d shyly voiced your desires to be fucked as hard as possible. Pregnancy made you so horny and feral for him, and in the early days he only ever allowed you on top, because he was so much bigger than you and so scared of hurting you. But soon, he’d learned to be rough in a way that had you both feeling satisfied without ever really causing you any harm.

And so, Ari had wasted no time in carrying you up the stairs, laying you down on the bed and slapping your ass as you scrambled to get on your hands and knees for him. And he’d slapped your ass once, twice, three times, and you knew he was mesmerised by how it jiggled.

“You’re so fucking hot like this, baby.” Ari murmurs, spanking you again like he can’t get enough. “Kept thinking of you like this while I was at work, bent over like a little whore in front of me.”

“Please put it in, Ari!”

“Patience, sweetheart.” He chuckles, running a hand up your spine and sending shivers all throughout your body. He presses his dick against your naked backside, and he feels so hot and pulsating. He’d torn your dress off the moment he’d entered the bedroom, and his own clothes had quickly followed suit. And now you were at the mercy of one big, horny, muscular, beefy man. A caveman, by the looks of how feral he was getting behind you. It’s like seeing your pregnant, naked body just flipped a switch in him, and his own patience was riding thin along with yours as he continues to rut against you.

With one quick thrust, Ari drives his huge dick inside you. You cry out in pain because he’s so big, and you’ll never get used to just how big he is. He’s more than twice the size of you and so incredibly well hung, and all you can do is brace yourself and take it, your whole body jerking forward from the force of his thrust. You’d have gone face first into the mattress had he not anticipated that and grabbed on to your hips tightly.

“Oh, fuck, baby, such a tight fucking hole you got. Daddy barely fits inside.” Ari’s fingers are clutching your hips so tightly, you know it’ll leave a bruise. And he’s rough from the get go, although you know he’s holding back because you’re pregnant. “God, fuck, sweetheart. You got such a good and tight fuckin’ snatch, so perfect for my dick, fuck!”

“H-Harder, daddy!” You cry, rutting back against him as your breasts bounce up and down from the sheer force of his thrusts. But your request earns you a swift smack to your bum.

“Take it how daddy gives it to you, baby.” Ari sneers, the alpha male inside of him taking complete control as his hips increase their pace. It feels like he’s ripping your insides with his hard dick but you feel so goddamn full and so good that you don’t even care, even as he continuously rains slap after slap down on your ass. “God, fuck, such a good little baby wife. Obedient as shit, aren’t you? Daddy’s little baby, gonna give me a bunch of babies, aren’t you?”

“Y-Yeah, gonna have your babies, daddy!” You agree, sounding delirious and very much like an airhead who’s only capable of repeating what her daddy is saying to her but he’s reduced you to this state through his sheer hard fucking and you don’t even care. You want it harder, want him slamming into you till you can’t catch your breath and you pass out. But you know he wouldn’t, you can tell by how he’s got one arm now wrapped protectively around your belly, as if he needs to keep it there to remind himself not to lose control like how he often does during sex.

You remember a couple of times when Ari had gone completely feral, fucking you like you were an animal. Relentless and unforgiving, leaving you with bruises and bumps as he’d had his way with you again and again. But the dark side of you had enjoyed being a cumdump for him, despite the fact that you’d cried from the pain and overwhelming pleasure. And Ari had taken you into his arms afterwards, telling you how sorry he was, how he’d be careful with you in the future, how he got too riled up and how he couldn’t help but take you roughly when he saw how sweet and innocent you looked. And then he’d always be so sweet with his aftercare, and run you a bath and dote on you and hug you till you fell asleep in his arms, smelling like rose scented bubble bath.

“Want me to knock you up again, sweetheart?” Ari asks you back in the present, fucking you so hard you’re seeing stars. His fat dick is hitting all the right spots inside you, making you arch your back as he keeps thrusting into you, hips going into jackhammer mode. “Because I will knock you up again, baby. Soon as you give me my boys, I’ll have you on your back and filled to the brim with my fucking cum so you get knocked up again. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? Wouldn’t you? Fuck!”

“YES, YES, YES!” You scream at the top of your lungs, the pressure building up inside you till that invisible coil snaps and you cum so hard, you’re seeing stars. You collapse underneath Ari, and he has to hold you up as he continues to fuck you. But him describing how he’s going to knock you up again was enough for you to squirt all over his dick, your slippery walls squeezing his hard, fat cock that doesn’t stop its relentless assault inside you.

“Fuck yeah, baby, squeeze my fuckin’ dick!” Ari groans, using your limp body as a literal hole for his dick as he grabs your hips and makes you shake your ass on his dick, “Fuck yeah, baby couldn’t help but cum from the thought of getting knocked up by daddy, huh? Well, you gotta give me another one, honey. One orgasm isn’t enough for my baby girl.”

He pulls you up to your knees so your back is against his chest. And your body is completely limp and void of energy since orgasming had taken everything out of you, and you’re not even sure you can cum again like how he wants you to. But your beefy husband holds you up against him nevertheless, one big hand wrapping around your throat while the other cups your heavy breast and squeezes, and this whole time his hips don’t stop moving inside you. His fat dick driving in and out of you at different, varied paces. Slow so you can feel every ridge and vein, and then fast till his hips are a blur and you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“You best fucking believe I’m always going to keep you pregnant from now on.” Ari growls in your ear, squeezing your tits together as he paws at you like a feral caveman, his fingers pressing against your throat and cutting off your air supply just enough for your vision to blur and it all feels so deliciously good and you’re long past the point of even being coherent as you wail and scream for him.

You can feel him losing himself, getting rougher and rougher. You know your husband too well, you know he’s turning himself on more and more at the idea of impregnating you again. His lips latch onto your neck, sucking and biting while his hands squeeze your breasts so hard it hurts, and you feel your milk dribble down your nipples.

Ari sees it too, and you swear you can feel his dick get even harder inside you. In a nanosecond, he’s manhandled you into a different position. Now, he’s sitting on the bed with you on top of him, and he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick. And oh my fucking God, it’s so much deeper this way! You can feel your puffy clit grind against his trimmed pubic hairs as he does all the work, his muscular arms wrapping around you, not caring at all that your pregnant belly is in the way as he continues to fuck up into you.

“Can’t let your mommy milk go to waste, can we?” Ari grins, grabbing your tit and latching his mouth on it immediately, sucking down so hard that you see stars. He lets go with a pop, “Guess I didn’t get all of it, huh, baby?”

You hold his head in place, carding your fingers through his brown waves as he continues to drink your milk like a ravenous beast, like he can’t get enough of it. Switching from one nipple to the other, giving both your breasts equal attention as he drains the milk from them.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re breastfeeding daddy, baby.” Ari tells you, his voice muffled as he keeps his face buried in your breasts. And all the while he’s bouncing you up and down on his dick, and you can feel your second orgasm start to build up – and he hasn’t even cum once yet! You wonder how he remains so calm, so casual enough to have a conversation with you during sex. Meanwhile you’re a dishevelled mess on top of him, head lolling to the side as you’ve already gone dumb from all his ministrations.

“God, fuck, gonna keep you pregnant at all times now, sweetheart.” Ari declares, getting feral again as his hand splays out on your belly. “I want at least five more kids, baby. You gonna give daddy five more babies?”

“Y-Yeah! Yeah, I will!”

“That’s a good fuckin’ girl. A good fucking baby wife. I’m so glad I found you, baby. I love you so fucking much.” He kisses you, pulling you by the hair till you’re flush against him, his hips fucking up into you at a blurring pace that makes you feel like he’ll rip you in half any second now.

“And all the other guys will be so fucking jealous that they don’t have a cute little knocked up baby wife who does whatever they ask. Fuck! Tell me you’re my cute little baby wife!” He pinches your nipple harshly before going back to your belly, rubbing it with his huge hand as he clutches you so close on top of him.

“ ‘m your cute little b-baby wife!” You moan, finally finding the energy to desperately ride him, up and down and backwards and forwards, grinding against the thick steel rod that is his dick as it jams up your poor, abused fuckhole.

“Damn right you are. And I’m your daddy who knocked you the fuck up. And I’ll do it again and again, because you’re my fucking property and I can do whatever the fuck I want with you! You got that? Fuck!”

“Yeah, oh fuck, yeah, daddy, you own me! Wanna have more of your babies! Want you to keep me pregnant all the time!” You blabber incoherently.

“And you’re gonna obey me, and be a good little mommy to all our children, aren’t you?” He smacks your ass hard, once, twice, three times till your ass is sure to be raw and all the while you nod and agree with him, “A good little mommy who does what she’s told to do, and spreads her legs every time daddy wants to knock her up again, you got that?”

“Yes!”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Can’t wait to come home to you taking care of our little ones. Five of ‘em, with another one on the way. Fuck, can’t fuckin’ wait for that.” Ari grunts, his thrusts growing deeper and hitting your spot so deliciously and making you mewl, as well as his words and promises of keeping you pregnant which have you turned on beyond belief.

The pressure in your lower belly builds up higher and higher, more intense till you almost can’t stand it. And it feels so deliciously good, your pleasure mounting higher and higher as Ari continues to fuck you throw it all, holding you close and coaxing you, telling you to cum again for daddy, giving you permission to let go and cover his fat dick in your cream. And you obey, and you cum so hard, marvelling at how much of it squirts out of you.

Like a broken faucet, squirt after squirt of your cum covers his cock, and you sob and clutch at Ari’s hairy chest, burying your face in his hard chest as you cum so hard you almost faint. “Oh daddy, daddy, daddy!” you whimper like a broken record, like a baby who’s collapsed and needs to be held by her big, strong daddy.

“That’s a good baby,” Ari coos, stroking your hair like you’re his good little girl and the pride in his voice makes you sag with relief and euphoria, and his thrusts grow sloppy as he continues to ride you through your orgasm. His fat balls slapping against your pussy, and you know his load will be big because he’s held off so long.

“Fuck, baby.” Ari lets out a guttural groan before he cums, emptying himself inside of you as spurt after spurt of his hot cum sears you from the inside out. Brands you as his as your greedy pussy squelches and swallows his seed like it’s your job. And Ari looks so proud, holding you so close to him till it hurts, like he doesn’t want a single drop of his cum wasted as he fills you up like you’re his personal cumdump. “God-fucking-dammit, your greedy little snatch is squeezing me so good, baby. Best fuckin’ pussy I ever had, taking all my daddy cum like a good little girl. Fuck, take it, take all of it!”

And you do, taking every drop of his thick ropes of cum till you feel so full, stuffed to the brim with his heavy load as you fall down, completely spent and breathing hard, on your back on the bed.

You’re completely sapped of all energy, and again you marvel at how Ari seems perfectly fine, as if he hadn’t just emptied the world’s biggest load inside of you after a long session of unbridled, hot, rough sex. But your husband seems more interested in your body in its post orgasmic glow, rubbing you all over as you rest from the fucking you’ve just received, marvelling at his cum as it drips out of your pussy.

“Looks like your baby pussy couldn’t keep it all in, honey.” Ari swipes a finger up your slit and it comes up covered in his cum. Your mouth drops open in the shape of an o, which works out in your husband’s favour as he feeds you the thick cum. Globs of it, again and again, swiping up from your pussy before he brings his finger to your lips and allows you to suckle it off him. And it’s all you can do in your weakened, post-fucked state, suckle his fingers like a baby as your daddy feeds you his cum.

“Th-Thank you, daddy.” You murmur weakly, not forgetting your manners as Ari smiles down at you smugly. Finally tearing his gaze away from your body, he lies down next to you and gathers you into his arms for a cuddle. Kissing the top of your head and all over your face as he holds you close to him, till you can feel his heartbeat in sync with your own.

“You’re welcome, baby. I love you so much.” Ari answers, looking like the happiest man in the world. And it’s such a powerful feeling, knowing it’s you who has made him feel this way.

“Love you too, daddy.” You say tiredly, cuddling close and burying your face into his hairy chest as you breathe in his intoxicating post-sex musk. “Can’t wait to give you more babies. Can’t wait for our boys to come. I’ll be the best mommy to your babies, I promise.”

Ari chuckles, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he gazes at you with eyes filled with adoration. His hand goes down to cup your belly, and he squeezes you so close to him, you feel you might suffocate. But in the best way.

“I know you will, baby. I know you’ll take care of my children, but right now I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

He runs you a strawberry scented bubble bath, carrying you to the bathroom and getting into the tub with you. Gently scrubbing you clean and massaging your sore muscles and sensitive skin while you lie on top of him in the bath, content and barely conscious from the incredible session of fucking you’ve just received. Smiling faintly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, promising you the world and more, his words painting the perfect life which lays in store for you in the future, as well as the perfect life you’re currently living now – all because of him.

THE END! This is my ultimate fantasy and i have no clue why i never wrote it before now! pLEASE PELASE let me know what you think! thank you very very much! love you all!

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #dark ari levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #steve rogers x reader

[ilylovelyz]

housewife! reader w traditional! manly! ushijima makes my knees weak omg. the thought of this man training all day to come home to his little housewife and a home cooked meal!! he doesn’t care that you aren’t done setting the table he’s gonna bend you over it anyways. he’s just so in love w you!

sjdjjwje

this is kinda dark but the thought of him hiding ur birth control pills or replacing them with the sugar pills so he can knock you up oh my daysss like what’s the point of letting him fill your womb if he can’t put a baby in there :(

⍣ ೋ Million Dollar Man

˚ · . dilf!ushijima x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ dubious consent of impreg (?), birth control sabotage, traditional!husband ushijima, stay at home/housewife!reader, kitchen sex (yummy), misogyny (?), breeding, degradation + humiliation, size comparison, size kink, big dick toshi, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, just a whole lotta breeding <3, mentions of pregnancy dur

࣪𓏲ּ i was originally gonna work on an angsty fic for hinata but this was calling me </3 ushijima is so lana del rey

you're screwed up and brilliant you look like a million dollar man

"i'm home." he calmly says, careful to not close the door so noisy.

he takes off his shoes like normal, changing into his house slippers shortly after. he's inhaling eagerly, the scent of well-cooked rice filling his senses.

he walks to the kitchen, his slipper clad feet softly pattering against the natural wood that is his traditional house's flooring. he passes by the doorway that connects to the living room, glancing in and stealing a look that is his first born daughter napping on the floor next to his also sleeping second daughter.

he makes a mental note to not be so loud as they are napping, he knows better than to disturb them.

"welcome home, wakatoshi." you say with that warm smile of yours, eyes crinkling up at the sight of your husband. he softly smiles at you in return, grunting softly in response.

his eyes look over to the stove, a large pot with a cover surely boiling, and then to the rice cooker; which is what he assumes is full of already well-done rice.

he looks back at you curiously, he can only guess what you're making, he doesn't cook often, thats your job as a housewife.

"i'm makin' hayashi rice, you're favorite."

his cheeks can only tingle with shyness, to anyone he might just look ungrateful or monotonous, but it's far from that.

he adores you.

"thank you," he says, taking a few steps towards you until his chest is a few inches away from your face.

he towers over you, you have a tiny frame compared to his almost gigantic one. some have even questioned the two of you about it, stealing a couple of snide jokes here and there.

he can't lie and say that he doesn't find it "interesting." he brings a hand suddenly up to your head, patting your hair lightly. you blush lightly at his affection, leaning into his gentle touches.

he doesn't understand why you still get so shy around him, but he doesn't mind it. he likes that you're so humble and polite, even when it comes to your own husband that you've known since the young age of 17. you're 33 now.

"hm," he hums lightly, leaning down to press a kiss onto your forehead. he places a few kisses on your forehead, temple and nose before he's taking your chin in-between his fingers and tilting your head upwards so he can kiss you on your lips.

it still surprises you, how he can take your breath away from one kiss. as his hands wrap around your upper back to bring you closer to him, you can only think back to the time when the two of you were younger and less experienced, him having less experience than you, so you had to lead him with the expertise you had.

it was cute then, the way he was the one who trembled under your touch, looking at you curiously for the courtesy to touch you.

oh, how time flies. now the two of you own a home together, and have two children together, two beautiful girls, the youngest still a little less than a year old.

while ushijima has always been so stoic and known for it, he, over the many years that have passed, has become twice the man he was those years ago.

it almost flusters you, and you can't help but look back on those younger days with a bittersweet smile, remembering the little boy who would ask to hold your hand.

you fluster at the way his strong hands are tearing your clothes off boldly in the middle of the kitchen, his mouth breathing in your sweet gasps for air as he kisses you passionately.

he cups the side of your face, holding your face still as he all but explores your mouth with his own tongue. you tremble within his hold, your ankles almost giving in weakly just because of a simple kiss.

he notices, and with a squeal, he's lifting you up easily into his arms, walking over to the dinner table, using one of his arms to move aside the dishes you precariously chose for that night. dinner can wait, you guess.

he lays you over the cold wooden table, his hands caressing and rubbing your bare skin. you look beautiful underneath him, eyes already glazed over with tears, mouth red and plush. your neck has fading love bruises and bites, he takes note of it to make sure to go over them once more later.

his hand comes up to fondle your breast, his other running down your torso and down to your back thigh. you mindlessly softly moan at his touches, it always feels good to be touched by him.

but he shushes you, leaning downwards to rest his forehead against yours. "you'll have to be quiet, you don't wanna wake up the kids, don't you?" he whispers softly, in contrast, his fingers are already gliding themselves over your folds, dipping a finger into your already dripping cunt.

you gasp at his lewd actions, an eyebrow raising at his words. "d-don't you think i-it's a bit unfair to say that and then.." you meekly say, trailing off when he adds in another finger, curling them inside and pressing against your sensitive walls.

"..and then what?" he teases, punctuating his sentence by pressing his finger-pads against that sweet spot. your body jolts with pleasure, a hand of yours coming up to clamp over your mouth to muffle your pathetic moans.

"y-you're mean," you mumble out, eyes stinging with shy tears. it has your eyes widening when he's visibly smirking at your words, pupils dilated and dark with pure lust.

"you're so naughty, don't you feel ashamed, as a mother, to be so wet like this on the diner table of all places? isn't this where your kids eat?" he boldly says, adding in a third finger as to worsen his seeming punishment. bastard.

"t-this isn't—it's not–you're such a bastard..!" you stutter out, your free hand coming up to punch lightly against his chest. he lightly chuckles at your words before he returns to his menacing actions.

"why don't you cum on my fingers like this, mama? don't be so loud, you'll wake your dear kids." he says, standing up straight to watch the way your body trembles and jolts with pleasure at his words. like command, despite your own pleas and mewls of disapproval, you're cumming on his fingers like a whore, on his word.

thats how it should be.

you're panting on against the dinner table, hiding your face into the crook of your elbow. you're quickly setting your attention back on him when he calls out your name, opening your mouth submissively when he presses his the same fingers that are covered in your own cum against your lips, feverly sucking up your own juices from his fingers.

you blush once more when he's lightly scoffing at your actions, his free hand coming up to rush his pants and boxers off, freeing his cock and lining himself up to your cunt. "don't be loud, mama," you gasp at his words, his fat tip popping into the tight confines of your pussy walls.

his pace is already ruthless, almost taunting you as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, his cock snugly fitting against your cervix with every thrust. you try your best not to be so loud, but it's a hard task to do, especially when he's purposely abusing all of your weak spots.

his eyes narrow at your state underneath him, grunting against the skin of your calf when he sees a tear run down your cheek. "crying? does it feel good?" he asks menacingly, his free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together degradingly, forcing you to pout within his grip.

it only makes you cry harder at his mean gestures, he never fails to make you feel so little, so small. all count of restrain is lost as you shamelessly moan and cry out at his unrelentingly pounding, cheeks burning greatly as you give into his clear humiliation.

he's almost uncharacteristically grinning at your defeat, bending your leg inwards to your chest, almost bending you in half. you grip onto his forearm for purchase when you're unexpectedly cumming once more, vision going white when he doesn't even slow down.

his right hand comes down to squeeze at your doughy breast, noticing that it's lacking the milk you used to have a few months ago. no, that won't do.

"'gonna cum inside." he declares, his other hand coming down to lift the leg that is dangling off the table so as you get you into the perfect mating press. your eyes are widening bewilderedly at his words, a little shocked.

"b-but i'm not on birth control," you mutter out, but from the way he doesn't falter in his thrusts, it seems he already knows. yeah, of course he knows, he threw them away awhile ago. you don't need those silly pills anymore, you're his wife, your duty is to stay at home, raise his kids, and have as many kids as he pleases.

"t-toshi, utako is not even a year old–ah," you cry out, only to be silenced when ushijima is shoving his tongue back down your throat.

"you're my wife, don't you want my babies?" he asks, stilling his hips, his cock pulled out to the tip. he stares at you expectantly.

you're thinking for a few seconds, he doesn't assume anything in particular except of his cock. you're braindead like that, having nothing but a mommy brain after the last few times he's fucked you so well and good that he got you knocked up.

"..want toshi's babies.." you sob, throwing your head back when you're once again coming around his cock once he continued his thrusts at your words once more, your pussy sloshing lewdly with every movement.

yes, of course you want his babies. that's what you're made for. that's what your lovely existence is for, to cook him a good dinner and then spread your legs for him as dessert. whats a good woman if she doesn't submit to her husband?

he's grateful that you're a good woman, one that is so intelligent yet submissive to him. one that is letting him stuff you fill of his thick seed, letting her hard-working husband fill her yet again full with their third child.

it's just this that you're expected to give, you don't have to do much aside from look after the house and the children you produce, you can do whatever you want with the free time you have left, whether it's the beautiful paintings you create, or the horrendous amount of shopping you do with his credit card.

"i love you," he whispers softly against your ear, noting from the way your chest is rising slowly means that you passed out. dinner still hasn't been served, but thats okay. you've probably had a long day too.

౨ৎ please leave a like and repost with tags

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyū!! #haikyu smut #haikyuu breeding #haikyuu pregnant #ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader smut #⨳ family dream #⨳ breeding #⨳ big dick

[i-magines]

Wildest Dreams: Chapter 8

Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 9 | CHAPTER 10

synopsis: You’re an assistant director in an indie movie set and fate makes sure you keep crossing paths with a certain Chilean actor.  

disclaimer: This is my first Pedro Pascal’s fictional work + the first fanfic I write in English, as it isn’t my first language. Unfortunately, I do not own Pedro and this is all a product of my imagination.

rating: M (keep scrolling if your under 18 please)

warnings: age gap, mature content, eventual drinking and drugs, fem!reader, smut every once in a while, a little angst, shower sex (piv), angelic, conforting pedro.

word count: 1,541

The next morning, you woke up with a terrible headache and a sick feeling in your stomach, probably from anxiety. Pedro was laying down as the big spoon, his arms around your waist, as if he could defend you from anything in this world. You tried to move without waking him up, but he squeezed his grip even more and gave a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Where you goin’?” His morning, lazy voice giving you chills. “Don’t leave me just yet.”

You relaxed your body as he came closer to you, if that was even possible. You loved his manly smell, tobacco and some cheap soap. Flashes from the night before, the way he protected you, not caring what anybody would think. It was enough proof that he was by your side, at least for now — let it be infinite while it lasts.

“You feeling okay?” He asked, his fingers tracing an irregular patch on the side of your body. “Got me so worried, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine”, you said with a low voice. “Thank you, P.”

“Good”, he whispered as he smelled your hair. “I called my agent, they can’t make it go away, but they will see what they can do to prevent your face from appearing in the pictures.”

You breathed out strongly. Your face all over the internet was something you weren’t looking forward to.

“That would be great”, you used a thankful tone. “I’m sorry about my behavior last night.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry about”, he promised, leaning to kiss your cheek. “There never was a time before now, before you… That’s usually not how I roll, especially in my professional environment.”

You nodded, feeling a little less stressed and started to move again, sitting on the bed. You felt exhausted and was happy to still have the whole day to rest, before going back to the set.

“I need to take a long, hot shower”, you let him know and he gave you a smirk. “What?”

“Won’t you ask if I wanna join?” He said playfully. You gave him a big and honest smile, how could you not?

He took that as a yes and walked closely behind you to the bathroom. You turned on the shower and waited for the warm water to come. Pedro hugged you from behind and you could see in the mirror in front of you the look on his face. Slowly, he got rid of your clothes, kissing you all over you body. You did the same with his own and he held your hand to help you get in the shower.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your body”, he confessed as he followed you. The warm water running through your body, relaxing your muscles. “So beautiful.”

“Stop it”, you laughed softly. Pedro started to massage your shoulders, you let out a soft moan. “You take such good care of me.”

“That’s all I wanna do.”

He held your chin up and kissed you calmly. You let one of your hands rest on his chest, the other one grabbing his hair. He put his arms around your waist, one of his hands on your ass. His tongue asked permission to touch yours, and your kiss got deeper. You felt his half hard cook poking your lower belly, making butterflies fly everywhere inside you. You stopped the kiss for a bit, gasping for air.

Pedro looked at you, a sparkle in his eyes. He cups your breasts with his hands and, after he saw the relaxed expression on your face, he put his mouth on your nipple, sucking it softly. He definitely knew how to use his tongue. You grabbed his arms, your nails scratching him a little. One of his hands moved to touch between your legs and he gasped at how wet you were.

“We don’t have to”, he told you, looking deeply into your eyes, always making sure you were comfortable with the situation.

“I want to, P”, you smiled and kissed his mouth again. “Maybe just a little more delicate today.”

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

Pedro held your leg with one hand, as you crossed it around his hips, and the other one supported your lower back. You kissed slowly, the warming feeling growing inside you.

“Is this okay for you?” He asked, kissing your neck.

“Yes”, you replied, getting inebriated by everything about him. 

He didn’t have to do much, as he positioned his cock close to your entrance and you pushed your body down to take it inside.

“Fuck”, he moaned. “Your pussy swallowing my cock all in.”

His thrusts began slowly, just giving you the opportunity to really feel his thickness making you feel complete. It wasn’t his main focus, as he positioned his hand to rub your clit. He made circles around it and pitched it a little bit, giving you chills. You felt that feeling pulsing inside and tried to focus on it, not letting it go.

“Squeezing me so good, baby girl”, Pedro whispered in your ear, biting it softly after. “I love the feeling of you all around me.”

That helped the growing ecstasy on your lower belly, you were getting closer.

“Your touch is fucking magical”, you confess. “I-I’m so close, daddy.”

He held his tempo, allowing you to reach your climax. You felt the feeling reaching your whole body, contracting your insides as you moaned loudly. He stopped everything he was doing, but kept his cock inside you.

“I could stay here forever”, he said, peaking your neck softly with his teeth.

“You into cockwarming or something?” You replied, smirking at him.

“Maybe.” He was serious, but soon left out a big laugh and you joined him. 

You looked at eachother, just taking in the moment. Fuck, you could really fall for him if you let yourself get caught on those feelings you may or may not be having. Perhaps, you could even love him—  you quickly shaked that thought away.

The two of you spend the rest of the day just hanging out together, watching TV, eating some minifridge snacks and cuddling. It was a perfect escape from reality and, for a brief period of time, you felt like what you had could actually be a normal relationship. You forced yourself to stop, you couldn’t fantasize like this. In the afternoon, you went back to the movie set and went straight to your cabin, Pedro to his. Later, he knocked on your door. You let him in and he grabbed you, kissing you strongly with so much passion. You made out for a little, just enough to get him shirtless on your bed, smoking a cigar.

“Do you agree we’re already fucked?” He asked you with a serious look on his face, and you agreed with a headshake. “Great, so fuck ‘em— we still have like a month here, so I’m gonna make sure everybody in this crew knows you’re fucking mine.”

The day after, the whole crew was giving you all these dirty looks, so you figured everybody was on the same page as Donna and the paparazzis. So it didn’t make a difference when Pedro sat with you during lunch break or when he held your hand and touched your face gently between scenes. You’ve tried so hard to suppress what you were living, that you were denying yourself the right to be happy and enjoy what you were having together, even if it had an expiration date. 

In the evening, Pedro had a meeting with the producers and you hung out with Flo, kinda hoping she would give you her thoughts and also spill some tea about what people were talking behind your back. She came over to yours and you opened a bottle of cheap wine.

“So, I thought you two were only flirting like, for fun”, she laughed, lighting the mood. “But I’m so happy for you honey, he’s such a honk.”

You let out a loud laugh, nodding.

“Yesterday when we got the news he was seen in Berlin with a mysterious young woman, I gasped, you fucking bitch— you never told me a thing!”

“It has been hell, Flo”, you confessed, staring your feet. “I really like him, I do. We’re not going far, though.”

“I know it sucks when we’re young and it feels like we’re gonna feel those huge feelings forever, but I promise, we won’t”, she comforted you, that was one of her talents as a friend. 

“What are they saying about us?” You asked, deep down afraid of the answer.

“Some were like ‘good for her’, thinking it was cute and fun, while others… Well—” She stopped for a moment, apparently looking for the right words. “People talk shit, that’s what they like to do. You could have been dating the catering guy and I guarantee you they would still be talking about it.”

“Yeah, sure”, you weren’t sure at all, but you didn’t want to force her to repeat all the awful things you could already picture people saying.

“If you ask me, there’s nothing wrong with you guys”, Flo smiled at you. “Enjoy what you’re living right now, you can always cry about it later anyways.”

CHAPTER 9 AVALIABLE NOW

TAGLIST: @kyuupidwrites @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @vivibabiez @ivyohmy @sebastianstansimp @tubble-wubble @28cnn @3zae-zae3 @technicallysassyfox @bellatrixyoass @mandolover86 @eliffluisa @one-sweet-gubler @anaxmcu @untitledarea @shesa-riott @chloelmao67 @majesticjellyfishzombie @adriennemichelle98 @januarycolor  @lxdyred @nabiiturner @brilliantopposite187 @acciojamesbarnes @sweetpea99 @whore-of-the-pumpkin-patch @zeyzeys-stuff

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction

[vintageshanny]

Officer Presley and the Librarian

I’m not sure if I did justice to this idea, but I had fun writing it! I hope you enjoy! 😘

Content: Big Daddy Elvis patrolling the streets, oral sex, 18+

You walked out of the Memphis Public Library and headed for your car.  You had just finished a long shift at the circulation desk, and you were feeling exhausted.  The summer sunshine was beating down, causing sweat to form on your brow.  “It’s too hot out here,” you grumbled to yourself as you set your purse in the car.  You unbuttoned and removed your royal blue sweater and tossed it in the backseat.  Since you were just driving home, it wasn’t like anyone was going to see you wearing just a thin black camisole with your pencil skirt.  As you cruised along the road toward home, your mind started to wander a bit.  You loved your job, but it could be mentally exhausting some days.  You snapped back to reality at the sight of a red light flashing in your rearview mirror and noticed a stop sign that you must have coasted right through.  Oh, shit…

Elvis turned off the flashing light that the police department had given him when he became an honorary officer and stepped out of his car.  He loved helping the police department.  Really, he loved helping people in general, but this felt like important work.  In a career that had so often felt beyond his control, this is what he needed - to feel important and respected.  As an officer, no one would tell him that he was too fat, too old, too…anything.  And even if they thought it, they wouldn’t have the nerve to say it out loud the way the critics of Elvis Presley, Entertainer, did.  He strode confidently up to your window, which was already rolled down, and leaned over to talk to you.

“Excuse me, honey, do ya know why I pulled ya over?” a deep voice rumbled through your window.  You snapped your head over to look at who the voice belonged to.  You swear you would recognize that rich beautiful voice anywhere.  Your jaw dropped a little bit as you stared at his handsome face, trying to get your brain to start working again.  “I’m sorry, um, officer?” you said in a nervous, questioning tone.  Elvis observed the effect he was having on you and smirked.  “You can just call me Elvis, dear.  I’m not a full-fledged officer; I just like to help out when I can.  Y’know, keep the streets safe and such,” he boasted proudly.  “Wow, that’s, that’s really amazing,” your voice came out barely above a whisper.  You were almost shaking with nerves over being so close to this man whose music you’d grown up listening to.  “Speakin’ of bein’ safe,” he continued, “ I stopped ya cuz ya rolled right through that stop sign back there.  Y’need to be careful, honey, I’d hate ta see anything happen to ya.”  You could feel your face become very flushed at this scolding.  “I’m so sorry officer, I mean Mr. Presley,” you mumbled.  “Elvis,” he corrected you with a grin.  You forced a nervous smile.  “Elvis,” you repeated.  “It’s okay, honey, I’m not gonna hurt ya,” he leaned in closer, his substantial belly pressing against the window frame.  Your heart picked up speed as his manly scent filled your nostrils.  

“So where were ya goin’ in such a hurry?”  It took everything in you to stay focused on the conversation and not on the way the buttons on his shirt seemed to strain a little bit against his girth.  You found yourself wondering what it would feel like to just rip his shirt open and run your hands over his thick, sexy body.  To tangle your fingers in his soft chest hair that was taunting you from underneath his collar.  “I was actually on my way home from work,” you managed to respond, getting lost in his ocean-blue eyes as you spoke.  “Oh,” he said, his face registering a little surprise.  His left eyebrow raised ever so slightly as his eyes wandered down to your chest.  You glanced down and realized with embarrassment that you were dressed more like a call girl than a librarian.  “Um, these aren’t my, um, I mean, I was wearing a sweater at work, but it was too hot…” your voice trailed off as your face turned a brilliant shade of red.  Elvis blushed a little himself as he realized you had caught him staring at your exposed cleavage. “Yeah, it sure is a hot one today,” he agreed as he pulled his eyes away from your chest.  You noticed his shirt was showing some sweat marks under his arms, which made your heart race again for some reason.  

“Where do ya work, honey?” Elvis asked, trying to get the conversation back on track.  “Oh, um, at the library,” you responded.  Elvis’ face lit up immediately.  “At the library?  Is that so?  That sounds like a great job.  I love books,” he said excitedly.  You couldn’t help but smile at his boyish enthusiasm.  “Me too,” you grinned.  “I have a great collection of books at Graceland,” he continued on. “You should come see it!”  Your jaw dropped open a little bit.  “Really?  I’d love to,” you somehow managed to get the words out.  “I mean, if you’re not busy, you could come over now.  I was just on my way home anyway.”  “Okay, sure,” you said nervously, not really sure what you were getting yourself into but also not able to pass up the opportunity to chat with Elvis in his own home.  “Just follow me,” he said excitedly as he headed back to his car.

Once at Graceland, you debated whether or not to put your sweater back on.  It was still hot, but you also didn’t want to give Elvis the wrong idea about what you were here for.  You quickly pulled on the sweater, buttoned it up, and followed Elvis into the house.  Once inside, he led you to a room filled with floor to ceiling bookcases.  “Wow, Elvis, you have quite the collection,” you said as you perused the titles.  “I see you have a lot of books about spirituality.”  “Are you interested in that type of stuff?” he questioned.  “Oh, definitely!” you exclaimed.  He moved closer to you and frowned, noticing you had put your sweater on.  “Honey, you didn’t have ta put that back on.  I didn’t mean ta make ya uncomfortable before,” he said apologetically.  “I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression about the kind of woman I am,” you responded with a blush.  “Honey, the only impressions I have are that you’re a beautiful woman who likes to read and ignore stop signs,” Elvis laughed.  You chuckled at that and started unbuttoning your sweater.  “Okay, I am pretty warm in this.”  

“C’mere, honey, let’s sit and talk for a little while,” Elvis said, beckoning to the couch.  You settled in next to each other and he turned to look at you.  After discussing literature for quite awhile, Elvis casually put his arm around you and steered the conversation elsewhere.  “So tell me more about what kind of woman ya are.  Are you the kind that would be attracted to an old man like me?” he joked.  “I know I saw ya eyeing me up and down when you were in your car.”  You blushed for the hundredth time that day.  “You are a very sexy man, Elvis,” you admitted.  “Being so close to you is making me have all kinds of…thoughts.  But being intimate with someone is a special thing for me, though, not something I take lightly.”  “I think that’s great, honey.  Intimacy is special for me, too.  Sometimes I can tell right away that I have a special connection ta someone.  That’s how I feel talkin’ to you.”  He leaned in close to you.  “We don’t have ta do anything ya don’t wanna do.  But if ya feel like this might be something special, why don’t ya tell me about these thoughts you’re havin’,” he whispered.  “Okay,” you whispered back as you both leaned into a passionate kiss.

“I’m wondering,” you breathed, “what it would be like to lick every part of your body.”  Elvis’ eyes widened with lust.  “Goddamn, baby, you don’t have to keep wondering,” he smirked.  You reached over and started to unbutton his shirt.  “Stand up,” you commanded gently.  Elvis stood and let you push his shirt over his arms and onto the ground.  Next you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, letting those fall to the ground as well.  He stood in front of you buck naked. You thought you saw the slightest bit of apprehension in his eyes.  “You like what you see, baby?” he said with an air of confidence, but some part of you could tell he really needed to hear the answer.  Your eyes wandered over every part of his body.  “You look absolutely perfect.  I can’t even explain what you’re doing to me right now,”  you said in a raspy voice.  You grabbed one of his big hands and held it over your chest.  “Feel how you’re making my heart race?” you asked.  “Mmm baby, I can make ya feel a lot better than that.  Let’s get you out of these clothes so I can just bury myself in that beaver,” he murmured in your ear.  He removed your camisole and skirt and slid your underwear down your legs.  Stepping out of it, you leaned back on the couch wearing just your lacy bra. 

Elvis knelt down in front of you and gently spread your legs open.  “Damn, that is a beautiful sight,” he cooed as he used his fingers to part the lips of your pussy.  “Already dripping wet, too.  I need to taste this,” he said as he leaned in and went to work.  As his tongue worked its magic on your clit, he reached his hands up and pulled your bra straps down, exposing your breasts to him.  He pinched your nipples gently between his thumbs and forefingers.  “Oh, god, Elvis, I feel so good,” you moaned out.  “It’s only gonna get better, baby,” he rumbled into your pussy as his tongue moved down and slipped inside of your tight hole.  “Oh, fuck,” you exclaimed as you grasped at his thick black hair.  He moved his tongue back up to your clit and stuck two fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out, curving them to hit just the right spot.  “Ohhhh,” you wailed as you could feel your legs starting to shake.  He did his best to hold you still as he sucked at your clit, your orgasm making a mess all over his perfect face.  You moaned softly as he pulled his fingers out of you and kissed both of your thighs.  “It’s your turn now, daddy,” you whispered with a smile.  

You pulled Elvis onto the couch and knelt down between his legs.  You couldn’t help but just stare at his cock, which had grown hard as a rock while he was pleasuring you.  The fact that he got so turned on from making you feel good was very impressive.  “Is somethin’ wrong?” he asked, looking down at you.  “No, I’m just looking at how perfect your cock is,” you said softly as you started stroking it in your hand, gently pulling the foreskin back.  His chuckle was quickly followed with a moan.  You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock and then lunged your face down, taking in as much as you could until it hit the back of your throat.  “Goddamn,” Elvis cried out with pleasure.  He started thrusting his hips up into you as you moved your mouth up and down on his throbbing member, your hands gripping his thighs. His moans grew louder and louder, his face etched with pleasure.  You moved your mouth up and lapped your tongue around the sensitive tip, causing his whole body to shake.  You took the whole shaft back in your mouth just in time for him to let loose his warm seed onto your tongue.  You sucked intently, swallowing everything he had to give you.  

“Wow,” Elvis leaned back on the couch and pulled you up on his lap so you were straddling his thighs with your own.  “That was definitely something special.  I can’t wait to see you again,” he whispered.  “Anytime you want, officer,” you said with a smile as you stroked his furry chest and leaned in to kiss his sweet face.

@prompted-wordsmith

@precious-little-scoundrel

#elvis #elvis x reader #big daddy elvis #sexy #elvis smut #officer presley #I love this man

[hannahssimblr]

“Can I tell you something?” Alison whispers as we lay side by side on a bed, some nameless person’s bed in Dollymount. The sounds of electronic club beats are muffled through the floor from the kitchen beneath us.

“Yeah of course.”

“Don’t take it the wrong way though.”

“I won’t.”

She smiles, “I really, really like the stupid faces you make.”

“Stupid faces?” I have to look at her, so I prop myself up on my elbow, “What stupid faces?”

She giggles sleepily, all soft and relaxed after I made her come. I don’t know how I did it, by the way, it’s something that seemed to have happened by divine chance, leaving me with no solid idea of how it can be repeated, but now I have to pretend that I did it on purpose. “You just pull these really expressive faces, like,” she tries to imitate me, tugging her lip between her teeth and rolling her eyes back, “like you’re enjoying yourself so much, it’s so cute.”

I kiss her shoulder, “I am enjoying myself. It’s nice. Do you want me to be all serious? I can do that, I can be really stoic and manly if you like,” I set my jaw and stare right at her when I roll on top of her, “Alison,” I say in a deep, unemotive Terminator voice, “copulating with you is enjoyable to me, let us continue.”

“Stop,” she laughs weakly and squirms away, “and by the way, if you were a real manly man you wouldn’t even speak or make any noise. You’d just wheeze out these really heavy, ominous breaths.”

And would I look you in the eye like this?” I demonstrate, unblinking, “And would I be concentrating so much that I’d look like I was doing a shit?”

“God, no, in my experience guys don’t even look me in the eye. They bury their face into the pillow and then get embarrassed and start apologising when they come like they’ve just realised they’ve done something disgusting.”

I drop back to her side, “Oh, God. That sounds miserable.”

“Yeah that’s why I like your stupid faces, actually, and the way you look at me. Sometimes you even say nice things. It’s always pleasant with you and I never regret it.”

“I’m just blurting out random shit, it’s not exactly romance novel worthy stuff.”

“You said a few minutes ago, and I quote, ‘Oh Jesus, fuck, Alison you’re so fucking hot.’ Do you know how good it feels for me to hear that?”

“i can't be held accountable for the things I say when I'm about to come,” I say with a shrug, “and anyway, you are. I was just sharing the facts.”

She reaches up to touch my cheek, stroking the back of her fingers affectionately over my skin, “That’s the thing though, you’re never embarrassed about sex. You make me feel kind of special, or something. You’re a lovely boy, you know that? You’re just about the loveliest one I know.”

“Why does that make you sound so sad?”

She looks up at me with her big blue eyes and I can’t help but touch her too, brushing my fingertips up the side of her face while she lies there, still, red hair fanned out over the pillow like some kind of beautiful painting. 

“I’m not sad,” She whispers, “We’re just being vulnerable.”

“Hm, how are you holding up?”

“I don’t mind.”

It takes me a moment to realise that I, in fact, am the one that is sad, and perhaps it’s because I’ve been drinking, which is never really that good for me or the image I try to uphold, but an unexpected type of sorrow takes me over in a surge and I only realise I am about to say something very stupid when it is far too late. I am already saying it.

“Why don’t you want to be with me, Alison?”

She sighs and breaks eye contact, “Because that would be ridiculous. You don’t want that.”

“I think that I do. I don’t understand all of this casual stuff, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how to do it.”

“But you’re doing it, you’re fine.”

“No, I think I need more.”

“Jude,” she drags a frustrated hand across her forehead. I think I put her through this type of thing a lot, “you don’t want to be my boyfriend, you just think that you do.”

“I love you.”

She snorts with derision, “No you don’t, come on, you’re just lonely.”

“You’re right,” I hesitate, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, that was stupid.”

“I think that deep inside you’re just a sad little boy who wants someone to look after him, and now you’re searching for some poor, naive girl to do it. Right?”

“No, of course not. I just… don’t like being on my own.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“I don’t like how it feels.”

“You’re making a great case for us being together, by the way. Who wouldn’t want to go out with a guy who is depressed and gets really weird whenever he’s alone? Wow, he doesn’t sound clingy at all.”

“But you’re not making any decent case for not being together.”

“Being with me would probably ruin your whole reputation. You don’t want to be the guy who’s going out with the bloody village bicycle of fifth year.”

“Who calls you that?”

She scoffs, “Um, everyone, come on. You think I don’t know? I bet the stuff those rugby boys say about me is foul.”

It's true that the conversation in the changing rooms is so pornographic that it used to stun me, but I've been on that team for two years now and have realised that the conversation is always about the the same things, like whose arse cheeks were visible under the hem of her skirt, what they wish they could do to random girls in the hallway, big tits and blow job lips, invented scenarios with girls they will never have the courage to actually talk to. It's boring.

“I don't think I've ever heard them mention you.”

“Well then you’re just not listening.”

“Alison, yeah, the shit they say is gross, but even if they did talk about you, they definitely wouldn't be saying that you're the village bicycle of fifth year, come on.”

“Of course they do. But that’s what I get for being this way. I should just keep my legs closed, right?”

“C’mere,” I tilt her face gently to mine, “If they're saying that then it's not in front of me.”

I can't read the series of emotions that flash across her face, but her silences makes me begin begin to question if any of this is comforting at all. I continue, “and I swear if I ever do hear anyone talking shit about you in that dressing room I’ll shut it down straight away.”

There is a pounding on the bedroom door. 

“Hey!” Some girl yells, “Who’s in there? This is my room. Nobody better be having sex or something in there!”

Alison and I stare at one another. 

“Hello? Can you open up please? You can’t just come into someone’s house and start locking the doors as you like!”

“Hey! Piss off!” Alison yells back, which only increases the ferocity of the door rattling, “What should we do?” she murmurs.

“Probably get a move on, you think?”

“Yeah, might as well,” she lies spread out on the mattress staring at the ceiling as she tries to gather the strength to move. Finally she relents, “Okay, throw me over my jeans.” 

I pluck them off the chair that I flung them onto earlier and then start retrieving some of my discarded clothes too. “Should we fix up the room or something? Like, I dunno, take the sheets off? I feel a bit bad.”

Alison scoffs, “Why, so you can have them dry cleaned for her? Or do you want to go downstairs and put the washing machine on? No, you can put your condom in the bin but that’s all she gets. What does she expect? We are at a house party, and there is a bloody bed. Does she seriously think that people aren’t going to fuck in it?”

“You’re right,” I chuckle, “Get a grip, huh?”

“Right!”

“Loser.”

“Loser.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2009 #tw: sex #tw: misogyny #tw: sexism

[quillquiver]

Happy 2nd anniversary to those two old guys from supernatural [[ao3]]

Their room is a mess.

It’s not their fault; though they’re largely retired, Claire and Kaia needed backup on a nearby mystery monster situation. So Cas’d cracked open the books and Dean had packed a duffle and when they’d stopped hearing from the kids, they’d gone in after them. ’Course, by the time they’d gotten back they’d pretty much just shed their viscera-covered clothing and dropped into bed.

Bright winter sun streams in through the window, causing Dean to groan and Cas to burrow further into his pillow. The duffle has been thrown at the closet door, the thing busted open and swollen with weaponry. Cas’s angel blade thigh holster hangs off the bottom-right bed post and Dean’s gun sits atop the dresser. The room smells like sewage and monster guts, which isn’t exactly ideal for a second wedding anniversary, but Dean figures they’ve done worse; last year, Jack had been so sick they’d spent the day trying to stop his puking. 

But Jack is with Sam and Eileen today, and after a shower and a change of sheets, Operation: Oops We Did It Again can finally commence. Starting, hopefully, with a vat of coffee and Dean getting fucked silly as many times as they can swing it. 

“Cas,” he whines, eyes closed. He shakes his shoulder. “Coffee.”

“You do it,” Cas says.

“Did it last time.”

Cas slaps at Dean’s hands. “M’gonna burn it.”

“S’automatic, you loser.”

“Can’t.” He rolls over. Tucking his face into the juncture of Dean’s neck, Cas applies half-asleep kisses everywhere he can reach, mumbling nonsense about how good and strong Dean is, how he’s the best provider and so manly and wouldn’t he prefer to make the coffee?

Dean stumbles out of bed grumbling.

Cas smiles. “I love you,” he murmurs, eyes still closed. 

Yeah, Dean bets he does.

By the time he comes back with two mugs and his present under his arm, Cas has moved from his side of the bed to Dean’s, his head face-down in Dean’s pillow. Dean still has no idea how he manages to breathe like that. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty. C’mon.”

Cas groans.

“Cas, seriously. There’s shit all over the room, I need you to grab this.”

He rises from the bed like a zombie from the grave, sitting up and offering his hands. As soon as the mug is cupped between his palms he sighs. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Kiss.”

Dean grins. Pecks his mouth. “We’re so nasty,” he says. “Feel like I need to go through a human car wash.”

“Mm.” His blue eyes are only barely open. “Made it though.”

“Yeah by the skin of our teeth.” Dean frowns at his mug. “Gettin’ old.”

“For fighting, maybe. For everything else...” Cas shrugs. Smiles. “I think you deserve a real retirement.”

Dean purses his lips. They haven’t really talked about going whole hog on their apple pie life yet, and it’s not something he really wants to think about; if his family’s in trouble, he’s just supposed to sit around with his thumb up his ass? He’d never leave Jack, how could he leave Claire and Kaia?

“We don’t have to decide right now,” Cas says, clearly more awake. He shrugs. “It might be something to think about. I don’t like it, but Sam and Eileen’s network has been doing great things. And I think we scared Claire.”

“Yeah,” Dean chews his lip, distracted. “Maybe.”

“...Is that for me?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” Smiling, again, Dean takes the badly-wrapped package from under his arm and offers it. “It’s, uh, nothin’, y’know. Just... yeah. Happy anniversary.”

Cas kisses him, soft and sweet. “What is it?”

“You have to open it, you dork.”

“Alright, well...” Cas stretches and reaches under the bed, bringing up a present of his own. “Happy anniversary to you, too.”

Dean grins. “Open mine first.”

Cas’s gift is a riotously coloured cotton sweatshirt and short set. The thing looks like it’s been pulled right out of the 90s, soft and bright and Cas smiles so big his gums show. “I’m going to wear it once I’ve showered.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” He leans in for another kiss, grinning when Dean chases as he pulls away. “Open yours.”

Dean shakes his head, moving to press soft, wet kisses across Cas’s top lip. “Wanna make it last.”

Cas gives as good as he gets, shuffling until he’s practically in Dean’s lap. Their empty mugs have gotten lost in the dirty sheets somewhere, hands holding and squeezing and grabbing as the kiss deepens to something sexy and slow. Cas has this way this way of kissing that makes it feel like the main event. “Trust me,” he breathes. “We’re going to want what’s in there for the next part.”

“The shower?” Dean teases, leaning in again.

Cas nips his bottom lip. “The sex.”

Dean tears into the wrapping paper. 

“Oh hell yeah.”

Sheets. 

“Egyptian cotton,” Cas grins. “500 thread count.”

“Mm, talk dirty to me.”

“Single-ply,” he says lowly. “Hand-dyed.”

“Oh baby.”

They beam at each other. 

“Thanks, man,” Dean says. “I love ’em.”

“That’s only part of your gift,” he explains matter-of-factly. “I also plan to fuck you on those sheets. And to have pizza delivered later.”

“Hot.”

They make-out for longer than they probably should given how gross they are, until Cas is trying to hump him like some over-eager teenager and Dean is rapidly forgetting why they shouldn’t just add to the mess (the answer: that would be disgusting). “Sweetheart, we gotta—we should—”

“What if we just, ah, like this. Then later—”

Dean shakes his head. “Want it to last. I want—”

“I can do that. I can—fuck—”

“Cas, if you come without fucking me I’m gonna be pissed.”

Cas wrenches away, frustrated. “Then just let me—”

“Woah,” Dean interrupts. “What’s the rush? Sweetheart, hey. Castiel.” But Cas refuses to meet his eyes. Dean cups his face. Cas grips his wrists. “Talk to me.”

“I love you,” he blurts out.

Dean frowns. “Yeah, I love you, too.”

“I love you so much,” Cas says, like it’s a confession. Like it’s being ripped out of him. “I’m here. We’re married. We almost died. And I just—Dean, I don’t know—There’s something wrong with me, I—”

Dean’s eyes soften. “Nah, there’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Sorry,” Cas croaks, squeezing his eyes shut as if to stop himself from crying. “I want you. I-I want—So I don’t understand why I’m—I was fine. I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “You are.” His dirty fingers thumb away tear tracks from the apple of Cas’s cheek. “Look, sometimes... we think we’re fine but we’re overwhelmed, y’know? S’okay.”

“I wanted to take care of you today.”

“Who says the day’s over?” Dean asks. “We’re gonna go take a nice long shower and I’m gonna wash your hair, and then I’m gonna go order like 40 pizzas and choose a movie, ’cause you owe me for coffee this morning. Then we’ll shove everything in the wash, and change the sheets, and you’re gonna fuck me so good I’ll feel it for the rest of the week.” Cas huffs a laugh. Dean smiles. “Darlin’,” he murmurs. “We’ll talk about hunting.”

Cas bites his lip. “I don’t want to die,” he breathes. “I only just got you back.”

The smallness of his voice hangs in the air between them. Dean feels something in him break. “...Yeah,” he swallows thickly. “I know.”

“But I don’t want to leave Claire if she needs help,” Cas argues with himself. “And you love hunting, I don’t want—”

“Alright well, first of all I don’t love hunting.”

“You know what I mean.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Dean promises. “We always do.” They’re quiet as he rubs at the cut of Cas’s jaw, a smile teasing at the corner of his mouth. “Not to change the subject or anything,” he eventually says. “But that was some serious real adult shit right there.” Cas rolls his red-rimmed eyes. Dean puffs out his chest. “C’mon, you gonna tell me I didn’t just make that conversation my bitch? I win at relationships, man.”

Despite the smile creeping across his face, Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“Whatever, I’m totally winning.”

Cas squints. “You routinely put things away without asking where they go. And then you forget about them, like a squirrel.”

“Please, you leave your shit all over the place. What am I supposed to do? Just walk right on by?”

“Yes! You...” Cas trails off, eyeing Dean’s shit-eating grin with a grimace. “Fine. Yes. Thank you. You’re very good at relationships.”

“Some would even say...” Dean prompts.

“They’d be wrong,” Cas says simply. “If the sample size is the rest of our lives, there’s no way to tell you’ve won yet.” A shrug. “And as we aren’t even through the whole day today, the jury still seems to be out on that, too. Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry. 

Dean hums. “So what you’re saying is, we should get in the shower to figure out who’s better.”

“As a start, yes.”

“Cool.”

Dean’s halfway to the bathroom when he suddenly pulled into a hug. Cas steps in and around until they’re pressed chest to chest, clinging to him in a way that would have broken bones if he was still an angel. He pulls away with a kiss to Dean’s closed mouth. “Thank you,” he says emphatically. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop being thankful for it.”

A blush explodes across the bridge of Dean’s nose. “That’s cheating.”

“I meant it.”

Dean looks at him, helpless. “Cas.”

Cas stares his fill until he’s apparently done, nodding to himself before leading Dean, by the hand, into the bathroom. “Come.”

Dean does, for the record.

#destiel #destiel fic #destiel anniversary #happy anniversary dean and cas! #fluff #lemon-y #hurt/comfort #kinda #adventures in fanfic #man this was supposed to be so short #and then took me like 2.5hrs #oops

[p-redux]

There’s a photo of Sam at Graham’s wedding, sitting at a table, and there’s a woman with blond hair behind him. Kind of looks like the same hair as in the party photo with Sam, thé blond Vicky and Davie. Perhaps a date for the wedding?

Hi Anon, Graham's wedding was small and intimate. It doesn't look like people brought plus ones unless they were married to them or in a serious relationship. And I highly doubt Sam would bring a 21 year old Outlander crew member as his date...unless he was in a serious relationship with her. I'm assuming this is the pic you're referencing. 👇

The blonde woman next to/behind Sam may be this guest pictured elsewhere in the Vogue article. 👇 And if you look closely at the pic above, the man with the grey hair next to the woman seems to have his hand on her shoulder. 🧐

Looks like the same darker blonde color and hairstyle 👆, but who knows.

Also, in the Vogue article, Garance explains that guests were asked to move seats after the first course to facilitate mingling with more people 👇 so the people sitting next to each other in the pics may not even be who they came with. 🤷‍♀️

The pictures of Graham and his new wife Garance Doré are everywhere, so I won't repost all of them here, but here's the link to the Vogue article for those who haven't seen them. 👇 It looks like a true fairytale Scottish wedding, the stuff dreams are made of. And Graham planned the whole thing! Also worth noting, Graham and Garance met on the celebrity dating app, Raya. I find it fascinating that Graham was on Raya for some reason. 😊 Maybe this wedding will give Sam ideas for his own wedding...if it ever happens. If I were engaged to a Scottish man and this is the wedding he gave me, it would make me love him even more. Truly magical day. ❤️

Here's a pic of the newlyweds. 👇 Graham is Scottish perfection. 😍 The bride is a bit too simple for me, but that's because my tastes are a bit more extravagant. But in the article, she explains her look, it's what she wanted, and she looked so happy. So, I'm happy for her. ❤️

And here's our Sam, looking ever so dashing. 👇

And yes, Sam did wear a kilt. 😍👇

I'm off to daydream about a handsome, viril Scotsman in a colorful kilt, with a BIG sporran, waiting for me at the end of the aisle in a 16th century hilltop castle. And then carrying me to our room, up high in a tourette, laying me down on a bed covered in fur (faux, of course), and then whispering unintelligible Scottish sweet nothings to me as he makes manly manly manly love to me until I start crying out "I'm coming!" in Gaelic. 😊

Mr. McTavish has set the bar verra high for weddings. 👏

#samheughan #grahammctavish #garancedore #wedding #vogue #scottish wedding #raya #vickyfarkasova #vicky farkasova #samicky #borthwickcastle #bigsporran

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Cillian One Shot

Sweater

Pairing: Cilly× Reader

Summary: You go by this clothing shop in Ireland and see this sweater that Cilly has been always talking about. Also, you decide to buy it for him. Read more to see how he reacts.

Characters: You and Cilly

Warnings: None. Fluff, hugging, kissing, and complimenting.

Setting: Ireland and Cilly's house

Word Count:1,555

It was a nice day as you were walking down a street in Cillys hometown. The sun was bright as day. Sky was blue as Cilly's eyes. Making you feel wonderful.Also, many little shops and clothing stores line the street. Many people were out and about taking advantage of the beautiful day. Little kids playing with the little trees that line the sidewalks.

There was one shop that caught your eye. It was a clothing store that had a cool sweater. It was on display on a guy mannequin. You walk over to the window looking at it with awe. You've heard Cilly talk about this sweater. It was orange with black leather stripes sewn into it. Other thing it has zippers. You keep looking at it imagining your husband Cilly wearing it. An image of him wearing it appears in your mind. He stands there smiling at you. Plus his manly fore arms are on display in front of you. You stand there blushing like a young girl in love.

" He would look good in this", you think to yourself with a beaming smile on your face.

Then a lady from the shop approaches you. " Are you interested in the sweater?", she asks with a bright smile.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her with surprise.

" Yes, I am, but how much is it though?", you ask with hestency in your voice. You squint your eyes waiting for an answer.

" It's 671 pounds", she says looking at you with a nod.

" I'll take it", you say happily patting your right thigh.

" Good, follow me this way", the lady says walking you inside.

You nod to her and follow her like a lost puppy with excitement in your eyes. You watch her get the sweater. She goes to the mannequin taking the sweateroff. Next she puts it in a brown box and wraps it.

" You paying with cash or credit miss?", she asks watching you.

" I'll pay with credit", you say getting your card from your wallet.

" Here you go", you say handing the card to her.

She takes the card and swipes it with ease.

" Here you go and have a nice day", the lady says handing the card back to you.

" You too", you say smiling at her grabbing your things.

You walk out of the store feeling good about your purchase. One is that the sweater was worth it for Cilly. Second he's going to love it to the earth and back. A few people nod to you as you walk back to you and Cilly's house. They all say ," Hi." An interesting mural catches your interest on a wall. You go to stand and look at it with wonder in your eyes. The mural was of a garden trail through a forest to you. Looking at it reminds you of Wizard of Oz because the mural has a brick trail in it, but it wasn't yellow. It was grey instead like concrete. Also, it has a cute little cottage shaped like a mushroom. You take your phone out getting a quick picture of it. Then you keep on walking putting your phone up.

As you near the brown cobblestone driveway, you start feeling excited like a kid getting their special prize. A jovial look appears on your face when you walk up the drive way. You can hear Scout barking at the door from inside. He was literally an alarm or doorbell to you and Cilly.

" It's ok Scout." " It's y/n boy", Cilly said going to the door opening it. Scout ran out the door to you with his tail wagging an hundred miles an hour. " Hey there Scout", you say petting his head standing for a minute. He licked your hand with a big smile on his face. " Let's get inside Scout before I catch a cold ok", you say putting your hands back to your side.

Scout twitched his head looking at you for a second. Then he followed behind you to the door. Cilly stood there with a smile on his face. " Hey baby", you say giving him a kiss.

" Hey love", he says kissing you back as you went inside.

" What you got there love?", Cilly asks looking at the package with curiosity closing the door.

Scout went to lay in front of the fireplace watching you two.

" It's a surprise baby", you say softly handing him the package.

" Thank you love", Cilly says with a smile taking it.

" Hmm.. what is it exactly?", Cilly asks opening the package as he sits on the sofa.

" I'm not gonna tell ya baby", you say cutely sitting next to him. You bat your eyelashes at him.

" I'll see love", Cilly says taking the brown paper off the box.

He sets the paper gently onto the oak table.

" I know this store love", Cilly says looking at the name on the box.

The name reads: O'Hara

" Is it by chance the sweater?", Cilly asks looking at you for a second.

You look at him without a word, with a grin on your face.

" I'll open it love", Cilly says with a smile.

He goes to lift the white shirt box open with a big smile on his face.

" I really love this sweater y/n ", Cilly says taking out the sweater looking at it.

" This is the one I've been looking at everyday for the past week", Cilly says touching the zipper area on the chest area.

" How about put it on Cilly", you say patting his leg gently.

" I'll change right here since it's me and you", Cilly says winking at you.

Cilly takes his blue sweater off placing it on your lap. You take in the sight of his freckled covered upper body. A blush forms on your face.

" Enjoying the view?", Cilly says playfully to you as he gets the orange sweater on.

" Yes indeed," you say smiling at him.

Cilly gets the sweater on and stands in front of you.

" What you think love?", he asks looking at you with his arms by his side.

" It suits you baby", you say looking him over.

You loved how the sweater fitted his manly body. The zipper on the chest and arm area looked very fitting. Plus the orange color suited his skin tone.

" Glad it does and thanks love for the sweater", Cilly says with a smile looking at you.

" Your very welcome baby", you say standing up looking into his eyes.

Cilly looks back into your eyes with a loving smile on his face.

" I love you y/n", Cilly says giving you a sweet passionate kiss.

" Love you too Cilly", you say softly after you kiss him.

" Can I take a picture of you in this sweater?", you ask biting your lip looking at him.

" Of course you can love." " I don't mind at all." " What poses and where you want to take a picture at love?", Cilly asks as he steps back looking at you.

" How about in front of the aqua colored curtain there", you say pointing to the curtain by the window.

You choose that spot because it had great lighting. Also, the aqua color goes with his orange sweater.

" That's a perfect area love", Cilly says going to it.

" How about put your left hand on your hip with your head leaned back a little", you say getting your phone from your purse.

" Will do my love", Cilly says smiling as he gets himself in the pose.

After you get your phone, you look back to him. " That's perfect Cilly", you say walking to him.

" I'm enjoying this y/n", he says playfully watching you.

" Let me know when you're ready for me to take a pic", you say getting your camera ready on your phone.

" I'm ready love", Cilly says giving you a sexy smile.

" Keep that pose baby", you say readying your finger on the circle button to take his picture.

Cilly listens to you and gives you a sexy pose. His pose looks like something out of a modeling magazine. He was a nautral for modeling to you. You take the picture with a press of the button.

" Perfect picture Cilly", you say walking over to him.

" Want to see?", you ask standing beside him showing the pic on the phone.

" Of course love", he says looking at the picture.

You smile as you look at the pic with him.

The picture radiated a loving warmth of love to you both.

" You're a natural at modeling Cilly", you say glancing back at him.

" Yes I am love." " That pic is awesome too love", he says looking back at you.

" Can I use it as a wallpaper or keepsake on my phone?", you ask him going to the sofa.

" Sure love." " It'll keep you company when I'm away you know", Cilly says with a chuckle walking to the sofa.

" Yes indeed baby", you say sitting down on the sofa.

He goes to join you on the sofa. You lean back on the sofa relaxing. " Want to cuddle y/n?", Cilly asks as he leans into you on the sofa.

" That would be nice", you say cutely pulling him closer to you.

Then the two of you cuddle enjoying each other's loving embrace.

The End

@look-at-the-soul @babayaga67 @thomasshelbee @adoresmiles @stevie75 @watercolorskyy @runnning-outof-time @theshelbyclan @theshelbyslimited @moral-terpitude @pherelesytsia @evita-shelby @julyzaa @shelbydelrey @notyour-valentine @dandelionprints @midnightmagpiemama @lyarr24 @babayaga67 @creativepawsworld @gypsy-girl-08 @allie131313 @kittycatcait219 @theoshelbyjones @theshelbyclan @madame-wilsonn @rangerelik @sydi22 @shelundeadxxxx

@frostingguruu @grungebabyblu @shaddixlife @elenavampire21 @midnightmystic

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x y/n #cillian fluff

[mister-heart]

Alright but.... if u have Twili headcanons. ... ... I much desire to hear them....👁️👁️

(I'm wildly curious and i haven't given much attention to them in my own interpretations tbh, but I love them and you're making me want to draw hella Zant now)

Then you’ll have to pry them from my cold, dead hands… kidding! But if you DO draw Zant please let me know he is one of my little wives. Ok so headcanons? I can list off a few.

- They still speak the old language of their ancestors. Think of it as a person speaking modern English talking to someone who spoke old English. You’re probably not gonna understand them. I like to think this gives them an accent too. Midna tried to teach it to Link but thought it was WAY funnier to lie and make up shit. “Oh yeah, to say hello is ‘woobyshaba’. Trust me, I would never lie to you. You also have to kiss the person you’re greeting, if they’re a friend you gotta use tongue. It’s tradition, don’t be so judgmental.”

- it’s super taboo to idolize their ancestors, I mean they were the ones that got them sent to the twilight realm in the first place. That’s one big reason people didn’t think Zant should lead, he was like a fanboy for great grandpa Murder Ass.

- This may be nsfw but I have discussed (thoroughly) with a friend that because they have nipples and belly buttons they are conceived naturally through sex. My friend insisted they poofed into existence but she is CLEARLY wrong I mean they were human once so they’d simply smash and pop out a baby. They have genitals I just don’t know where they’re hiding them. (For genital headcanons you gotta pm that shit)

- I think Midna and Zant are around the same age and grew up together. It was mostly Midna bullying Zant, but they were still friends. Mostly. Frenemies maybe? Midna’s love language was harassment and Zant was super easy to set off. They’d fight a lot but would also share snacks. Idk, make of it what you will.

- Midna actually won multiple mischief trophies. This is NOT a Twili tradition, she made it up as an excuse to have trophies. She wins every year because she’s also the judge.

- Most of the people refuse to use any magic because of all the trouble it’s brought them, but a lot also use it to keep their history and culture alive. Very half and half. If you’re royalty you HAVE to learn to use magic, however.

- Zant is seen as very attractive where he’s from. Maybe because he’s tall and has beautiful eyes and can swallow his whole forearm in an alluring display of manliness. Oh how the people are wooed, it almost makes you forget his crazy ideologies.

- Midna told Zant that he looked like a fish once and he cried so hard he threw up. He was an adult when this happened.

- Technically everything there is solar powered… Not a headcanon I just wanted to remind you.

- There IS a monarchy but if people hate you enough they just give the crown to some other guy.

[pr3ttym3ssy]

Modern AU Harringrove

Billy takes Steve to California and they hit up all the attractions. Bar crawls, Santa Monica Pier, National Parks cause Steve gets homesick and needs nature's healing. They do all the fun stuff that Steve hasn't been able to do ever because he's from middle America. But, there is one thing that he is buzzing to do and Billy knows it, so he saves the best for last.

He takes Steve to Disneyland. Billy takes him in the early morning during rope drop. He hears Walt on the speakers give his infamous speech as the gates open and his eyes are big and bright and filled with wonder. It makes Billy giddy and warm with love and joy. They go as far and getting Steve a button that says "1st Visit" in big mustard yellow letters that has the big four on it (Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, and Donald). It gets him all the special treatment his child at heart desires.

They walk down Main Street pass the trolly tracks, and just when Billy thinks Steve's eyes can't get any bigger, they do. Upon seeing Sleeping Beauty's Castle in all its wonder. Steve smiles and whispers to himself "Holy shit". Billy is buzzing with excitement that he is sure he's catching from Steve. He's never been one for childish things like this, but Steve makes him want to just enjoy it. Really enjoy the wonder and magic he feels there.

He takes him through the various lands. Tomorrowland is by far Steve's favorite, because of the Star Wars ride and Space Mountain. Billy just says " I havent even taken you to Star Wars Galaxys Edge". Steve's map of the park is so worn out that by the time lunch time comes around, he already knows the map like the back of his hand. They eat, they drink, snack on churros and pretzels, and Billy’s sure they're both going to fall into a diabetic coma that will be so worth the smile on both their faces.

Their inner child's are healing. Billy's dad never brought him cause he said it wasn't a manly thing to do. He only remembers going while his mom was still around. Steve's parents always promised to take him but always fell short of keeping their promises.

They hold hands and pull each other to get on various rides. Haunted Mansion, Pirates ofnthe Caribbean, and Steve also finds that he loves the Indiana Jones ride because of course Harrison Ford and who doesn't love Han Solo too. Billy just laughs and enjoys ever second of their trip.

They take photos with characters that wander around the park. Billy is ogling the Flynn Rider lookalike and Steve catches him. "He's handsome right?". Billy side glances at Steve, pouty faced with his Mickey Ears looking so cute and red in the face. "Yea. Kinda resembles some one I know". Steve swats him in the arm smiling at him, "shut up, I can't rock his goatee". Billy shrugs, "you'll never know unless you try". Steve hugs his waist, "so then you'll be my Blondie". He pecks Steve's nose "I'll be anything you want me to be pretty boy".

The day is ending and they get ready to settle down to watch the parades and finally the fireworks. They're beautiful and the flashes of color adorn Steve's features beautifully. Billy is falling in love all over again. In this place full of magic and wonder. His inner child is singing, because he has finally found someone he can share this joy with, someone who cares and accepts him just as he is. Steve feels him staring, and as that final set of fireworks fly up in the sky and create a flurry of color, Billy's lips capture Steve's and he kisses him with so much love. The bang bang bang of fireworks rapidly flying in the sky are muffled because all he can feel is this kiss. Soft and tender and not at all what their use to and he loves it. Steve's eyes start to well up. Billy feels the warm tears trickle down to his fingertips. "Steve, baby what's wrong?". Steve just gives him a watery smile, "nothing it's just. This is the best day ever. Thank you, Bill. I love you."

Billy Hargrove holds Steve's hands and cups Steve's cheek with the other as he kisses him again, "I love you too. Wait til I take you to California Adventure."

-

I'm a Disney Adult. I live in California and I love going to the parks. I had an annual pass but I haven't renovated it, but mark my words I will.

This came to me because I was watching Tangled with my toddler and then I was like Flynn Rider is fiiine. Joe Keery could maybe do a live action Eugene. And this brain rot happened.

Anyway hope y'all like some cheese, it felt like so fluffy and sappy cause I'm a child lol

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #modern au #California Boys #Disneyland

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 504, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death

WORDS: 1221

“One, two, three, NOW!”

I woke up with a start, jolting as something lurched onto the bed and started jumping.

“O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are thy branches, O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are thy branches,” chanted the girls, giddy as ever as they jumped up and down on the bed.

“Cwissy twee, Cwissy twee!” babbled Baby Tommy excitedly, following his older sisters’ example and being absolutely stinking adorable at it the whole time. “O Cwissy twee, O Cwissy twee!”

“Sweetheart?” I giggled at the grumpy tone that my handsome older husband’s voice wore.

“My love, cheer up,” I pressed my lips to his temple. “The kids won’t stay this little forever.”

“True,” he grouched. “Okay now kids, that’s enough- mommy and daddy are up now. Give us fifteen minutes, and we can go downstairs and open presents, yeah?”

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY…!” cheered Elizabeth and Katie, both girls jumping off the bed and lifting Baby Tommy off to stand in between them both.

“Yay yay!” yelled Baby Tommy, his little dollie friend tucked up underneath his shirt with its head protruding out from his neck hole. “Yay yay!”

“Yay yay yourself, Baby Tommy!” I frowned at the happy little man as I got out of bed first, grabbed the Christmas sweaters that I had handknitted a few days before and handed them out- Elizabeth’s was a deep royal purple, Elle’s was a lovely pale lavender, Katie’s was a bold red, Jing’s was a bright hot pink, Baby Tommy’s was a handsome hunter green and his dollie’s was a beautiful pale green. Peter had a soft sage green Christmas sweater and I had a deep turquoise blue Christmas sweater.

“Thanks mommy!” Katie said, sitting down on the floor almost at once to dress her American Girl mini me in her Christmas sweater.

“Lizz Lizz?” Baby Tommy meeped, toddling over to her, taking his dollie out of his shirt and holding the sweater out to her, asking for help dressing. His big sister smiled at him as she set Elle down onto the floor before changing him. “Yay yay! Thank ou!”

She giggled at his sheer adorableness as Peter got up next, his pectorals flexing and stretching as he worked his morning kinks out of his body.

“Good morning, sweetheart of my heart,” he rumbled, yanking me into his lap, snarling playfully at me before playfully pecking and nipping at my neck. I laughed as I settled my knees onto either sides of his manly hips, giggling he nonverbally professed his neverending love for me. “Did you sleep well last night?”

“I did, yes daddy,” I meeped, tossing my arms around his neck and pressing our foreheads together. “Ten more days left until we can begin to try for Baby Ratajczyk 2.0.”

“Fuk.”

“BABY TOMMY-!”

~xoXox~

“Wow, thanks mommy!” Elizabeth cheered as she opened her latest present, Edwardian styled boots. They had a shaped top and scalloped sides, the tiniest of heels and buttoned straps. “These are so pretty!”

“And cool!” Katie grinned, opening her own shoebox and taking out Converse high tops, custom printed with bright red Chinese lanterns and pink blossoms patterned across the footware. “Thanks mommy! These are so cool!”

“My love, you spoil them rotten!” I scolded my husband as he started up the fireplace in the sunroom, hunched over the pyramid of firewood with a flickering match.

“I’m their father, sweetheart,” he reminded me with a chuckle. “Besides, I do not like the idea of us not celebrating Christmas due to mourning Baby Violet Marie.”

I hummed disapprovingly as I watched Baby Tommy unwrapping a box, which turned out to be baby sized Legos.

“Tank ou mommy,” he meeped out politely as he shook the box. “Mesies bid house for wittle Baa bee Tomm Tomm!”

“Well, I bet the house will be a sound house of living!” I told him, giggling as my husband grabbed a dark green blanket from the blanket box next to the fireplace and draped it snuggily around me. “Gramacy, my love.”

He just smiled at me before flopping down next to me and dragging me in under his arm, returning his attention back to the kids tearing open their gifts under the tree.

“Hey sweetheart, the band has been asked to perform at a bar on New Years Eve,” he told me with a gentle kiss to my temple. “Cammie- she’s the owner of the bar- told me that she set aside wristbands for the kids and you and told me not to worry if you don’t come.”

“Okay,” I told him, leaning my head into his shoulder as Elizabeth came to the presents that James and Aaron had picked up while in France.

“Mommy… Daddy…” she announced, handing us our parcels.

I peeled open my present and smiled at the thoughtful gifts of hand crafted biscotti bites and small hand soaps. I looked over at Peter and saw that he had received a gourmet coffee gift box with twenty little bags of coffee from around the world.

“Who do you think picked them out?” Peter asked me quietly.

“James,” I answered his question at once, keeping my voice also low. “Aaron isn’t the best at picking intimate, personal gifts.”

“This is so awesome!” Elizabeth yelled as she pulled out screen printed silk. “I can make a bunch of awesome stuff with this!”

Katie opened her carefully wrapped box and pulled out a plush panda and a baby plush panda, the two toys clearly meant for Katie and Jing respectively.

I smiled as I opened my stocking, pulling out white chocolate KitKat bars, a pretty pedant with the family members’ birthstones, a bookmark and a tube bracelet.

“That bracelet has ashes from Baby Violet Marie,” my soulmate breathed gently into my ear. “The kids each have one. I just figured that it would be a nice way to remember her and keep her in their hearts.”

I smiled up at him, tears pooling in my eyes as he gently fitted the bracelet around my wrist before lifting my hand to his mouth, where he pressed a sweet kiss to my fist.

Gramercy, thank you, old French? 

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@ch3rry-c01a

#Real person fiction (RPF) #Tattooed Wings #Peter Thomas Ratajczyk #Type O Negative #Vanessa Rose Pickings/ little girl #Special needs baby #Aria Bradley #Evie Bradley #Deaf #American Sign Language (ASL) #Elizabeth Ratajczyk #Alopecia #Thomas Joseph Ratajczyk/ Baby Tommy #Autism #Katie Ratajczyk #Down’s Syndrome #Baby Violet Marie #Neonatal death #Matching tattoos soulmate AU

[mahaliaaa]

I can define perfection by looking at her face. She is very simple, expressing who she really is. Her face is perfect for a girl like her because every feature complements the others. Her expression exudes bravery and assurance that she will carry on shining despite what others may think.

Since first grade, she has been my closest friend. She has been showing a more masculine part of herself to me ever since. She behaves, moves, and wears manly clothing. She is displaying masculinity to defend herself and possibly those around her as well. Because of how terrible our world is, she is reluctant to display her femininity.

She never smiles in public when we go out and maintains a solemn expression out of anxiety. Her eyes have a constant sense of rage in them. Though she may seem to be angry with you, this is only her face as it is at rest.

Despite her intimidating look, she makes me feel secure, loved, and cared for. I sometimes feel like she is my boyfriend owing to the way she treats me as her girlfriend. It's because she treats me like a princess, holds my hands at unpredictable times, and often even buys me food and presents. Because we have been acting in this way since we were young, it is not odd in our friendship. 

We were having a good time and hanging out in a bar one night. We weren't aware of how much we were drinking because we were having so much fun. At that point, I noticed she was drunk and asked if she could give me a kiss. We are so close that she whispered, "You are my first love," into my ear before smirking and giving me a quick kiss. I presumed that she was just drunk and didn't really care about it.

That incident keeps replaying in my head, keeping me up that night. Knowing how often I think back on that time and how I behave differently when I'm around her leads me to believe that I have feelings for her as well.

That was the first time I actually saw her happy. I had a different vision of her that evening and I fell in love with her.

And how recently, after how many years of being closest friends, did she finally confess her love for me? This time, she is sober. She said, "Gusto kita, elementary pa lang tayo." We being on the same page surprised me, but I was also relieved.

After being friends for the first half of my life and beginning our relationship, she showed me something new—her other side. She had a side in her that I found very endearing—the gentle, humorous, noisy, and clingy one.

It was fun getting to know her better while dating her. When we began dating, she was an entirely different person. She revealed her feminine side for me and felt exceptional about it because it reflected her trust in and comfort in my presence.

She behaves more like a black cat in public, but when we are by ourselves, she turns into the world's cutest golden retriever. I adore it when she laughs and smiles at me and her chubby cheeks pop out. Her big, round cheeks and the way her eyes crinkle when she grins are captivating to see. Making me do anything so that she can smile more and be happy.

She will make her "kilig" face when I randomly tell her "ganda mo" to just remind her that she is beautiful. Although she won't say it, it is evident in her face. She will smirk and display an angry expression, yet she is smiling. When I make fun of her for being "kinikilig," she usually responds, "Hindi kaya, baliw! ”. She makes the greatest expression ever, and I'm the only one who gets to see that side of her, so I adore making fun of her in this way.

But her smirk might not always be the great facial expression. She sometimes smirks when she is disappointed by something. Secondly, she makes this expression when she is angry or in a bad mood. I feel uneasy when I see this face in those situations since I know something really offended her.

She won't do scandalous things in public since she isn't that kind of person: "Hindi maganda yung ginawa mo kanina, nakakabwisit." She prefers to resolve issues in a private setting since it shows greater maturity. When she is angry, she won't talk to you out of worry that her words might hurt you. In addition to correcting you privately, and will defend you in public.

Both of her smirks—the adorable and the scary—display her entire personality. Her menacing smirk conveys her manly and black cat persona. While the adorable one demonstrates her golden retriever charm and more feminine side.

This demonstrates that when anything negative or "nakakakilig" occurs, she always smiles. I like to refer to it as the "Lexie way" because both of them exude a strong charisma. A  way of conveying in a difficult situation, whether a positive or negative one.

[andy-clutterbuck]

#H E #Andrew Lincoln #* #andygifs #H A N D S O M E #*david attenborough voice* THE SUN #but also H A N D S #EYE CRINKLES 💕💞 #YOUR BONE STRUCTURE MY GUY #not sure a super plain black sweater needs to look that good #but here we are #look at his big beautiful rectangle head #i love me a set of big beautiful manly hands #neck veins #Bram Stoker is gonna come back to life to write about me if I don't stop #that strong square ass jaw #even his knuckles are nice i hate myself #'Even His *Blank* Are Nice I Hate Myself' the title of my TED talk #refreshments are in the lobby #you must be vaccinated to attend #when you can see an accent

[bubbledumbbinch]

Okay so can I ask for some general headcanons for a Fem!MC in twst? The game has gender-neutral pronouns for the MC so far and it's an all boys school. How do you think the characters reaction/interactions would change if the MC was female? (if all are too much you can just pick your faves, maybe just include the octa and Savannahclaw dorm?) Just your thoughts and some brainrot💖

I think the boys would definitely be a lot more flirtatious to fem!MC!!! (I just wanna call her FeMC so I could say… fem… with a c at the end LOL). This is an all boys school, what do you expect?!

These are mostly short I’m sorry! I wanted to try to fit everyone in!

Ramshackle

Grim would lay at night curled up beside you. On days when your period hit, Grim would sense you in pain and get near your abdomen and purr. He feels like it’s an instinctual thing to do and if if helps out his minion, he’ll do it! Plus there’s tuna in it for him, right? Pet his ears too!

Heartslabyul

Riddle would definitely blush when you are around, but not too heavily! Sure he finds you attractive but it won’t stop him from fulfilling his duties as a dorm leader! He can’t help himself when he gets flustered talking to you since the only woman he grew up around was his strict mother. Since you’re different compared to her, he can’t tell but feel warmth from you which he wants to keep in his heart.

Ace and Deuce would make jokes at each other’s expense, both of them sorta going neck and neck trying to compete for your attention! They know you guys are just friends… unless..? 😳 Ace would make the snarky remarks while Deuce would threaten to beat Ace up.

Trey would act the same towards you, knowing he has to be a respectful upperclassman! You ALMOST can’t tell he sets aside the cupcake with more fruits or decoration on it for you at the Unbirthday party. Trey would give his signature smirk and wink as he sets it down in front of you.

Cater would take you on shopping sprees and outings to have so many photo opportunities with NRC’s only female student! Girls would flood his comments asking if you were his girlfriend, but he never answered. He secretly hopes you like him back so you could do cute couple things together like match outfits!

Savannaclaw

Leona would still call you herbivore and treat you the same as always. Still as lazy as before. However he can’t help but show off when he plays Magift and you happen to be watching. He lowkey stares at your features and shape of your body when you’re not looking 👀

Ruggie would also mostly act the same towards you, but he would bump into you on purpose so he can have an excuse to touch or smell you! His body tingles when he can smell your scent on the blazer he accidentally knocked into you with! Still treats you the same as ever though!

Jack would be gentler towards you, he knows how rough and big his body is, he doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you! His personality is still the same, don’t think he’ll treat you any differently because you’re a girl!

Octavinelle

Azul would try to make shady deals with you to offer you protection against students who may be too forward with you since you’re a girl. In exchange? For you to work at the lounge! and spend time with him. He secretly likes you but would never tell you to uphold his reputation and he is also afraid of rejection ;w; Azul would also not mind seeing you wearing the lounge uniform, fufufu…

Jade would would act more like a butler type! You also find him nearby sometimes, feeling his striking gaze looking at you. He’s always there when someone is trying to confess to you and you look uncomfortable. “Oya oya, do you need some help, miss?” His voice teasingly echoes through the halls, scaring off the guy who was trying to hit on you. Jade would stretch out his hand and escort you to wherever you needed to go.

Honestly? Unless you had a super “girly” appearance, Floyd wouldn’t have noticed until he gave you a hug to squeeze you, noticing your body was different… more squishy... and your bone structure is different. Shrimpy is so squeezable!!! Huh? He has to be wary of your chest? He’ll just lift you up by your tummy! You being a girl doesn’t stop the hug train!

Scarabia

Kalim wouldn’t treat you any differently! He would still definitely invite you over as often as possible, not realizing his sweetness may come off as flirtatious! Might develop a small crush on you :) imagines all the pretty outfits he could buy you from his homeland

Jamil would at first be wary of you but once he realizes you aren’t a threat to Kalim or the school, he stops doubting you. Definitely isn’t the type to judge you differently based on your gender!

Pomefiore

Vil would smirk and think he finally has someone else to practice makeup on! He definitely uses you as a model to show off his products, whether it be makeup, skincare, clothing, etc!

Rook would be… protective. He likes you because you’re different, and he would subtly follow and stake you out to see what things you’re doing differently at NRC as a girl. Rook offers silent protection against those he sees as a threat to you before you can even notice.

Epel would definitely try to prove his manliness in front of you if Vil isn’t in the vicinity! Going out of his way to carry heavy items, be tough, etc. If YOU tell him he’s manly, it’s certainly gotta mean something right?!

Ignihyde

Idia thinks it’s like some sort of anime trope, you’re the female protagonist and it’s like a reverse harem because the whole school is full of boys! Cough cough breaking the fourth wall here! He would probably be more… nervous around you, not like he would ever get close anyways, but still! The idea of the only girl at school actually being friends with you and maybe becoming more makes his heart beat faster.

Ortho would not. Perceive you any differently LOL. He’d be intrigued would say like “A girl? Cool! The body analyses I’ve done from everyone around you reads their body temperatures higher and their hearts are all beating faste- MMPH!” He would be silenced by ADeuce…

Diasomnia

Malleus…. Once he knows how you don’t fear him and how you like him even without knowing who he is. All he can think of is how beautiful you would be as his queen. Who can blame him? He has priorities and he needs to think of these things! I can also imagine him picking petals off flowers and saying “She loves me… she loves me not…” because he’s romantic like that… my heart

Lilia would use his experience in his vast years of dating to his advantage, knowing what ways to talk to a woman best. He swears he is only flirting with you for fun! The way your cheeks puff up in embarrassment is just too cute to resist! He certainly doesn’t mind a gender neutral MC, but Lilia can appreciate the beauty in every gender and he certainly appreciates your beauty!

Silver said 😪😴 . You notice Silver has more of a knightly approach to you, offering to protect you when you need it. He understands how a situation between one girl and hundreds of male students could provide a sense of fear, so Silver would always be there to protect you if you need!

Sebek would blush when you’re around, but he thinks you’re trying to use feminine charm and wiles to seduce the young master, even though all you did was make a yawn noise, flip your hair, or put on a bit of makeup! You have to explain to him that you aren’t doing anything to try to seduce anybody. You just wanted to go to school. He is doubtful but finally agrees. Maybe he was becoming victim to your charm instead?

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #octavinelle #scarabia #pomefiore #ignyhide #diasomnia #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x you #twst grim

[finelinevogue]

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.    

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his. 

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

                                                            ••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?" 

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid. 

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

                              ��                           ••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry. 

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

                                                             ••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

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[dulceateez]

𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡!𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳

𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 

it wasn’t anything extraordinary, nothing out of the ordinary from him. he’s a gentleman. always has been and always will be. he treats everyone with the same amount of respect and love, but this time was different. after a surprise practice fire drill, you rush along with your classmates into the bitter fall wind, hugging your arms close to your chest. your legs shivering and lips trembling. you mentally scold yourself for wearing such a thin outfit. but here comes your hero; with a big hoodie in his hand. you slip into the clothing and wallow in his cozy, floral, manly scent. you look up at him to thank him but his arm wraps around your shoulders and brought you closer to his body. your cheeks turned crimson and you melt into his warmth, forgetting about the harsh cold; “y/n-ah, how can you wear such an outfit when it’s so cold outside! you need to dress warmer now, keep my hoodie for when you walk home today.” 

𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 

you didn’t know him prior to this interaction; heard of him. yes, of course you’ve heard of him. everyone has a crush on this boy and you understand the appeal. still, you’ve never felt the butterflies in your stomach when he flashes a smile in the direction of you and your friends. at least not until that subtle touch you felt on the small of your back as he passed by. who knew the crowded hallway could feel so empty after experiencing the seonghwa effect. what made your heart race was when he turned to flash you a smirk so devilish that it sent you straight to heaven. did you just fall for the more unattainable guy in this school? yes. do you regret it? no. you felt your mind warp into one like his followers.’ perhaps you dressed yourself up more and paid extra attention to your actions after the encounter; something you’ll never admit to yourself or anyone else. you want to feel his effect once more and that’s exactly why you fell for him. 

𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 

he’s the sweet boy next door, an eager puppy that always awaits your arrival, stalking your movements with child-like admiration. he finds you absolutely beautiful, since the day he moved in, but you’re taking longer to come around. but tonight changes the way you view him. your day was stressful, tear inducing even, and you just want to lay in bed and snuggle your favorite stuffed animal. the puppy analyzes your movements from afar and springs into action when you stomp right into your room as opposed to going into the kitchen for a snack like always. you lay in a puddle of your own self-pity when you hear thuds against your windowpane, you pull back the curtains and look down to see the homey boy smiling up at you with a bag of your favorite chips in hand. he gives it a shake, as if he’s coaxing you, you open the window up for him to climb into and he wastes no time in engulfing you in a bear hug. you replace the golden retriever plushy with him. as the two of you lay, not saying a single word, your heart starts to beat fast against his stomach; “y/n? are you nervous? do i make you nervous! you make me so nervous but i love it.” 

𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 

how can someone not fall for such a sweet little human? his hair is fluffy like cotton candy, cheeks puffy like mochi, eyes shinning brighter than the hard chocolate coating on candies. while his voice is as deep as the ocean it seems, his kind words contrast his tone. you often dreamt about the feelings of his lips; are they soft like clouds or do they send you to them? there was never one moment that solidified your attraction to him. from the first time you saw him, you’ve only had eyes for him. however, when you saw him giggling softly with his group of loud friends. the stark contrast between their bold and loud behavior and his gentle nature makes your heart go crazy. you suddenly became jealous--wanting to be the reason behind his laughter and his smiles, wanting to be the reason why he’s so bright and cheery. perhaps one day you will be. 

𝘴𝘢𝘯 

dimples. his cute little dimples. a dimpled boy like him never goes unnoticed. that’s how you noticed him, his cute smile and even cuter dimples. he sat across from you in the library once, taking notes from his textbook and writing them down on notebook paper. you admired him from afar. he was doing the same thing, raking his eyes over your body and face. finally, you built up the courage to introduce yourself to him and your fixation on his grew into a crush just by the way his eyes looked up at you: charming and hopeful. he removed his backpack from the seat next to him and invited you to sit down with him, a welcoming smile the whole time. while the two you studied independently, he kept sliding silly drawings under your fingertips. that’s when you knew for certain that you fell for the dimpled boy. and you fell for him hard after he asked you, “wanna go out and get a coffee or something after?” 

𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 

who knew being burnt by your newly bought cup of coffee could end so sweetly? you’ve long forgotten about the burning sensation when you locked eyes with the empathetic set of eyes that stared back at you. annoyed? yes. but  how can someone stay mad at an innocent face like his? you’ve seen him around the campus, always thought he was attractive, but a handsome face doesn’t leave and impression on you. however, him stripping out of his hoodie to give to you, leaving him in a very thin white t-shirt, made your heart swoon. he panicked upon seeing your skin turn into red. not knowing what else to do, he gently took your wrist and guided you into the nurses office where he stood by you every step of the way. even offered to take you to the hospital; but you two settled on him buying you a new cup of coffee...of course he joins you as well. 

𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 

the cockiness he has drives you crazy in the worst way possible. you hate his smirks and hate his abrupt laughter. what you don’t hate is how friendly and social he is--you’re envious of those traits. he treats everyone like he’s their buddy and makes sure everyone is included somehow. you’re more on the shy side and an easy target for bullies to pick on, that’s why you didn’t believe him when he spoke so kindly to you. but the moment that made you realize that your heart has fallen for him? when he scared off the bullies. you’ve never seen this side of him; snarling teeth, fist balled, veins on his neck prominent with anger. after seeing you on the brink of tears after having insults thrown your way, he can’t just sit around and enable this behavior by not saying anything. the friendly, but somewhat annoying, facade disappears. he shakes the guy by his collar, venom being spit on his face. once he scared the man out of his wits, he turns to you and approaches you softly, gently grabbing your hands; “has he been bothering you lately? i’ll make sure he never even looks in your direction.” 

𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰

such a sultry voice with high notes that reach the gods surrounding the earth, how can someone just move on from this type of singing? it was an immediate attraction to the anonymous man behind the honey voice. you began to wonder what he may look like--setting your expectations higher than the notes he is able to sing. you never built up the courage to peek into the music room and steal a glance and you always chickened out on staying after to see who leaves the room. it wasn’t until the day of the school’s choir when you found out who the voice belonged to. the quiet kid steps up to the mic and begins singing; your ears perked up instantly. the voice so familiar and you knew from exactly where. he stared at you as he sang the sweet lyrics, never breaking eye contact despite his solo ending. you felt alone in the audience, like everyone has disappeared and now it’s just him serenading you, warmth is all you felt. 

◌ 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ◌ @blaqpinksthetic​ @tinkerbellwoo​

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