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#lumps of delight
fallauween · 1 year
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Turkish Delight by Natalie Panga
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Mushroom body
(for @mikkeneko)
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chiropteracupola · 2 days
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MOTH AND COMPASS VISITS THE MUSEUM OF THE VANISHING DOG
[moth and compass is a collaboration with @natdrinkstea, museum of the vanishing dog is a podcast by @/boyhood and @/samsketchbook!]
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aberfaeth · 25 days
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have you guys heard of this………..
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vinceaddams · 2 years
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I sure do love to go to the thrift store and acquire things!! Today I got a broken (?) little wooden music box, a couple pieces of fabric (one dark pink cotton jacquard and one dark brown and gold sari silk) and also a plate with a picture of the Hartland covered bridge on it. That's the longest covered bridge in the world, and I've walked across it, and now I can eat sandwiches off it's monochromatic blue image.
#hi yeah yes i AM slightly tipsy at the moment sorry!#OH i also got 4 little packs of gold plated sewing needles!! and another plate that has Green Gables on it#but that;s in a different province from me so marginally less exciting even though I do love the 1980's anne of green gables series#just had another hecking busy week at work (because it is prom & wedding season and I am Suit Alterations Tailor#but now it is weekend and I have 2 days of no things#yay!! Maybe I will work a bit more on my shirt and some drawing!#I wish I had more space to put things. if I did I would go to the thrift store even more often and obtain even more delightful candlesticks#and also more silver plated goblets. I'd have a whole corridor of shelves with all my fancy little metal thrift store goblets#thrifting#hey did you nkow that all aclohol tastes bad and yucky and you can only hide it in lots of fruit juice and stuff???#this is a fact I know but learn all over again every frew several months#blergh!#speking of which! fun fact: I am a balding old man of 27 and when I got to the beverage store with a hat I get asked for ID usually#but never when I have no hat!#today I had a leafkerchief on my head which I have been wearing a lot lately for balding head reasons and also cause#of those dang sebaceous cysts upion my scalp that are so lumpy and numerous (4) and unsighlty#unSIGHTLy I mean#UGH the surgery people said I'd hear back about an appointment in a month and it's been almost 3! I should phone them!!#It is unfair to have lumps almost as big as marbles just chilling there on a balding scalp!!#SPeaking of leafkerchiefs I Realy need to finish that damn sewing tutorial video! I filmed most of it last autumn!#and now it's late spring!#is there a limit to how many tags you can put on a post??#ok well I hope these have ebeen entertaining to you I will go eat a food and maybe do soem sketching now goodnight
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six-of-ravens · 6 months
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thank you random music poll for reminding me of Eisley, who i was mildly obsessed with while going through my ~alternative music/weird punk-victorian phase~ as a teenager
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pseudowho · 6 months
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Nanami Kento treats his pregnant wife like the goddess she is.
Warnings: 18+, relentlessly fluffy sex
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You were thoroughly fed-up. About as pregnant as you could possibly be, you spent your days in permanent tiredness; belly too heavy and round, and hips too sore to be comfortable in any position overnight, you knew your wonderful husband Kento would take the aches and pains from you if he could.
Lying in bed on your side, pillows wedged under your bump, between your legs, and behind your back, Kento reached a reassuring hand out to stroke your waist as you grumbled to yourself; a full hour in bed now and no chance at sleep. Holding your legs together to support your aching hips, you heaved yourself up sideways, feeling your bones and muscles creak in protest. With a lump in your throat and tears burning in your eyes, you sat on the side of the bed to gather yourself.
You heard the bed creak behind you, and soft footsteps padded round the bedroom towards you. Warm, large hands cupped your cheeks and temples, stroking you gently. You leaned forwards, resting your nose and lips against his lower tummy, nuzzling and planting soft kisses there.
"I'm sorry. You can't get any sleep with me thrashing around. I can go to the spare room if you like," you reassured Kento. You felt his disapproval rumble through his abdomen.
"Don't ever apologise. I'm sorry you're so uncomfortable. For what it's worth, you're doing an amazing job. Not long left, I'm sure. We can get you through it. I'll run you a bath."
You hummed your approval, his hand lingering in yours as he walked towards the bathroom. You heard various containers being clicked, and the bath water beginning to run, before Kento headed back to you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. He grasped your hands and helped you to stand, before helping you to remove your pyjama bottoms.
You felt pathetic, useless, ugly, watching your gorgeous husband help you undress. As if reading your mind, he kissed his way playfully up your legs, blew a raspberry on your bump, and pulled you to him.
"You are just as lovely, if not lovelier than you've ever been. Watching you grow our baby has been a total delight and I want you to know that I still find you completely irresistible." You scoffed at him, dubious, puffy-ankled and tearful. He grasped your chin gently and pulled you to look up at him.
"I mean it," he said, voice low and so sincere you felt your eyes prick with tears. Sniffling, you rubbed your nose. "Come on. Your bath should be about ready."
Kento led you to the bath, and held your hands as you stepped in and lowered your body, sighing as the almost too hot water sank into your aching hips. Letting out a satisfied hum, you lay back in the scented water, looking at your swollen breasts and belly rising like islands out of the water. Kento watched you fondly for a moment, before slipping away to the kitchen. You faintly heard the click of the kettle, and the clinking of mugs.
Eyes closed, and slowly inhaling the steam, you watched your belly roll and jump, as your baby tumbled inside it. Stroking your tummy, you didn't notice Kento returning with a cup of tea for you. He knelt by the side of the bath, chin on one arm, as he gently splashed water over your moving bump. When his heavy hand rested atop your bump, fingers tip-tapping, your baby stopped as if listening. Kento chuckled.
"Only moving for mama again? Hello, sweetie. We can't wait to meet you." A moment of still, before Kento received a pronounced thump against his fingers. Kento continued to softly brush water over your belly and breasts, watching you intently, utterly besotted, believing with absolute certainty that he would walk through fire for you and your unborn baby.
You felt Kento's eyes bore into you, and you shifted uncomfortably, still feeling like a shadow of yourself, body taken over by something wholly undesirable. However, judging by Kento's gradually darkening eyes as he scanned your body, wet and full, he certainly did not feel the same. You felt your heart squeeze as his fingertips grazed ever so lightly against your nipples, which instantly tightened and pebbled. Kento's mouth watered.
It hadn't been his intention to become so aroused by you. His sole priority had been your comfort, to make you feel good in your body, but he felt his pyjamas growing tighter and tighter as he watched your body in the water, a Romantic-era goddess who deserved to be awash in flowers and adoration. Biting his lip, Kento mentally shook himself off, not at all wanting to bother you with his desire, knowing you were uncomfortable and exhausted, until--
"Kento, I...feel like as much as I want you right now, I just...I--" you hesitated, stumbling on your words as he frowned lightly at you. You reached a hand over the lip of the bath to stroke his bare chest as you continued, "All I mean is, in my current state, there is nothing I could possibly do to make...to make me...an attractive experience for you." You finished weakly, your words falling flat as Kento's dark eyes continued to stare you down, now hungry and, apparently, stubbornly determined to prove you wrong.
Kento hummed to himself again, remaining, as always, a man of few words. "I wish you could see yourself through my eyes," he mused, "because all I see is the love of my life, beautifully wet, carrying my baby, in a body I can taste in my dreams, telling me she's undesirable, while it's all I can do not to lift you out of this bath and sink my tongue and cock into you until you're too busy calling my name to continue thinking something so ridiculous."
You bit your lip, thighs squeezing together as you felt a familiar heat pool between your legs. Kento leaned into you, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue into you and you gasped as he moaned at your taste. Without breaking contact with you, he reached down to the end of the bath, grabbing the shower head and adjusting its setting. You felt a warm water jet rush against your thighs, as he slowly raised it to the throbbing ache between your legs.
Your head fell back, mouth open in a silent cry and hands gripping the sides of the bath. The hot pulse of water on your aching clit hit you instantly and intensely, and Kento leaned half into the bath, taking your nipple between his teeth and holding your hips still with another hand. You whined and whimpered, hands tangling into Kento's hair, completely wordless with pleasure as he moved the shower head in small circles around your clit, licking your sore nipple.
Your tummy tightened almost painfully, as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching, a violent one, overstimulated by the fierce rush of water and Kento's mouth on your sensitive nipples. Kento talked you through your pleasure, voice low and soft as velvet.
"Are you going to cum? I won't deny you. You've earned it. I'll make you fall apart a hundred times if that's what it takes for you to understand what you do to me." You gasped, hands furiously clutching his hair, his shoulders, his chest, your hip gripped tightly by him as you bucked and writhed in the water.
Kento pressed the showerhead firmly against your clit. "Cum," he ordered, and you shouted your pleasure as your orgasm hit you like a train, completely blinded by bliss, face screwed up and whimpering.
Throwing the showerhead aside and turning off the taps, Kento reached fully into the water and lifted you as if you weighed nothing, nose to nose with you before draping you onto your bed. Before you could protest about wet sheets, Kento dropped straight to his knees, bodily dragged your bum to the edge of the bed and placed your knees over his shoulders. You had barely a moment to gather your thoughts before Kento plunged his tongue between your folds and licked a fat stripe from entrance to clit.
You bucked, gasping, hypersensitive and senses on high alert. You craned your neck desperately as you felt Kento begin to suck on your clit, but were completely unable to see him past your bump. Your toes curled against his shoulder blades, hands reaching out, desperate to ground yourself with the pleasure overwhelming you, your second orgasm rapidly approaching, and you sobbed your pleasure into the dark warmth of your bedroom. As your hand reached down, Kento's hand reached up and his fingers laced with yours. You could have cried at the sweet intimacy of his thumb stroking your palm, as you came, crying out and twisting, calling Kento's name into the dark.
Kento lapped at you like a starving man, one hand already freeing his cock from the tight confines of his pyjamas. He couldn't help giving himself long strokes, squeezing at the tip and feeling pre-cum leak over his hand as his thumb swiped across his slit. He shivered, involuntarily groaning into your pussy, and he felt your thighs twitch around his head at the vibrations. By this point, he knew you could barely see straight, panting and gripping his hand, your anchor in the mist.
The thought of you writhing with pleasure above him spurred him on further, and, reluctantly letting go of his desperate length, he pressed two fingers deep inside your pussy, wet and fluttering, instantly able to locate the spongy spot inside you which would send you over the edge again.
You were a mess at this point, tears of overstimulation streaking down into your ears, gripping Kento's hand like a lifeline. You hadn't allowed him to pleasure you like this for weeks, feeling like your body didn't belong to you anymore, and guilty towards your unborn baby for feeling this way. So long had passed that you hadn't realised how desperately you had craved Kento while denying him and yourself.
"Please Kento I can't-- can't--" you babbled, completely incapable of stringing a sentence together. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly again, and you felt his fingers curl up inside you as his tongue flicked practiced circles over you.
Feeling your pussy clench around him again, and you whimpering weakly, thighs shaking around his head, Kento felt his thighs now sticky with his own precum. Squeezing the base of his cock as he gently brought you down from your high, he nuzzled at your thighs, planting light kisses and soft words of adoration. Kento tried to pant quietly, still unwilling to chase his own needs with your body, as long as you were sated and in full knowledge that he adored you still.
Kento felt his hand being tugged by you, insistently.
"Get up here. I'm not done with you." As Kento's face appeared above your bump, nose and chin glistening with your essence, you blushed at the mischievous look in his eyes. He crawled up the bed, hovering over you, caging you in, all broad planes of muscle and protection.
"Do you want to...I mean, I'm just happy if you're happy..." Kento stopped as you placed a finger on his lips.
"Just...help me flip over." Kento growled lowly in approval, and flipped you over onto your knees with ease. He reached up the bed to place pillows around and underneath you, until your bump was supported and your bum arched beautifully towards him. He ran his tongue languidly along the exaggerated 'S' of your back, before placing a playful nip on your bottom. You squeaked and waggled your bum at him, and he placed a firm slap on one cheek as you giggled. Warmth spread through him, delighted by your happiness.
Kento lazily fingered your folds, so wet and inviting, and you sighed, pressing back into his hands. He dipped one finger inside you again, using your wetness to lubricate his cock as he continued to pump himself at the view of you, so open and inviting before him. He leaned around you, caging you in again, now from behind, and you felt so deliciously vulnerable.
His voice, slow and sultry, rumbled through your ear; "let me know if I'm hurting you."
With no further warning, you felt every inch of Kento sheath within you, your swollen pussy sensitive and clenching instantly, and it took all of Kento's restraint not to cum right there. Holding your hips tightly against his, his head rolled back in bliss and he sighed deeply, grunting as he pulled out and sharply thrust back into you again, relishing your squeaks and gasps.
Kento wanted to hold himself back, but, desperate to show you exactly how desirable he found you, his hips took on a life of their own, slamming repeatedly into you. He groaned and panted, eyes fixed on where his cock sunk into you, watching your wetness coat his thighs until the room was filled with wet slaps and guttural moans. You had given yourself over to him completely, and lay prone, back arched and arse in the air, relishing in the deep aching pleasure of being utterly railed by the man who treated you like a captured goddess.
Kento felt so guilty that having only been pleasured by his own hand for weeks, through no fault of your own, he chased his orgasm like a needy virgin. Wordlessly, he arched over you like an animal, forearms caging your head. As you sank your teeth into one forearm, kissing, licking and mewling, he felt cum shoot through his cock with little warning, gasping and shaking as he came, feeling his seed drip out around your folds, so much after so long, and he was lost in a haze of pleasure for what felt like minutes.
Catching himself before he collapsed down onto your back, Kento gripped you to him and flopped sideways, still inside you as he spooned you, teeth sinking into your shoulder with unashamed worship. His lower arm snaked under your neck to rub lazy circles on your breast, while his upper arm cradled your bump, holding you, never wanting to let you go.
"I love, revere and adore you," Kento intoned into your neck, "even more so now you're sacrificing so much to give me everything I ever dreamed of." You felt tears prick in your eyes, completely awash with his sincerity. "So please, don't ever think you're ugly to me. I will love your body and mind with every change. I celebrate it."
Planting gentle kisses to your temple, Kento moaned as he slipped out of you. Lifting you into bed, he grabbed a soft cloth from his drawer and placed it lovingly between your legs before arranging your pillows with the skill of an expert, and covering you with a dry blanket.
You began to feel sleep roll over you as Kento replaced the wet sheets. As you began to drift, feeling your baby tumble within you, you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Kento would love you, and your baby, through any and every storm along the way.
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I post this fic in celebration of being blissfully married to my own Nanami, in advance of the birth of my 3rd and final baby ✌️ Every woman deserves a Kento to worship her.
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samodivaa · 4 months
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Lust looks pretty on you
Bucky x Reader : One Bed Trope. But he is your crush and his body is too close. He can't tell that you are masturbating, right...?
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Warnings - soft smut, masturbation Words - 2.5k AN - I want to make a filthy version as well, but this felt just right.
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Somehow you cannot help being reminded of a him, you look at him with compassion, sometimes with sympathy—though suddenly in one instant he becomes, as though by chance, lovely and exquisite, you can’t comprehend the power of those pensive eyes flashing with such fire—between the shadow and your soul, you love him, feelings can’t be repressed. But sometimes his eyes, his soft features burn with anguish and you grieve, in silence, that his beauty fades—your eyelashes glisten with tears Bucky never knows of.
When he comes close to you, there is already a gleam of a smile on your lips, faintly blushing and looking down.
“There is a room, but it has only one bed” he says uneasily. “I am okay with that” you say with an indescribable gesture, a gravest face, but your heart begins throbbing. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and-” Bucky speaks timidly in an ingratiating voice. “I assure you” you say in a whisper, full of affection, eyes beaming with delight as you take his human hand.
Finishing your answer, you pause pathetically, because there is an intense desire to force yourself to laugh, already feeling that a malignant demon is stirring inside, making you imagine curtain scenarios and suddenly there is a lump in your throat. You are always so tender, so solicitous with him—your soul is full with loving sympathy. “I can sleep on the floor-” Bucky begins in a plaintive voice, in which there lies a hope, though a very faint one and bends his head. “No, I would never allow that” He is looking at you intently, while a strange curiosity gleams in yours. Bucky stops, with his mouth open, because he can’t speak for delight as you continue to hold his hand. Your lips are quivering and you try to say something as well, but can only convulsively squeeze Bucky's hand in silence. You continue to look affectionately at him as a smile passes over his lips. “Okay” he brings out at last.
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When you enter the hotel room, you say tragically “Oh, the bed is small” Your eyes meet, he is gazing at you with a sort of wonder that evidently surprises you. Then, he tilts his head, his thin lips threatening to break into a smile
“But we will manage!” 
You say briskly, quick to add to the previous statement, and, indeed, on the mad idea that flashes on your giddy brain—you will take a long shower in the hopes that he will fall asleep. That position is desperate, but you are hot with shame, because he keeps staring at you, grasping at once that you might be up to some mischief. Bucky always does that—studies every gesture, every movement you make, listens to every vibration of your rich voice, but strange to say, as the result of all his observations tonight, he feels, mixed with a sweet and timid impression, a feeling of intense curiosity. It seems as though he is on the verge of uncovering the mystery of your unusual behavior. But with your masterly acting, trying to keep you together, the whole process goes on in you unconsciously as you approach the other side of the bed in wide steps after having closed the door behind and sit on the mattress. You have purposely chosen this solitary spot, your eyes facing the wall. “You go shower first, I want to call my mom” Bucky grows suddenly confused, and a faint trace of vexation is betrayed in his impatient movement and he is glad that you can’t see it, but he remains quiet, in his heart there is a sort of haunting worry—are you scared of sleeping next to him? Is it because of his nightmares? He is irritated, boiling with indignation and hate, towards himself, for it is the first time that he has felt like that in your presence. Feelings so coarsely handle him—he is reminded of what he truly is. 
The sound of running water echoes as he decides to go and turn the faucet on, adjusting it to a comforting warmth. Heaven. He winces as his back is met with hot water, swapping through his hair, through the curls and then running in streams down his shoulders, muscles protesting with each movement, but the warmth provides a reprieve from the ache that is a companion throughout the whole night. Bucky is analyzing the situation while he showers. His heart leaps and shudders when he exits the bathroom, but he is thankful that you are still talking on the phone so he lays on his side in despair and misery, hiding his face in the pillow, and is alternately feverish and shivery—he will make sure not to sleep, because his mind is too frightened by the the idea of scaring you with his nightmares, in his exhausted state all the emotions of the day come back to him in a rush. Whatever lies hidden in both your secret and behavior, he understands, but it causes moments of anguish of which he won’t forget. You longed to cheer him up, to relieve his anxiety if only by a glance, but when you see him sleeping, you tip-toe to the bathroom as Bucky lays with his eyes shut. When you come back into the room, his eyelashes quiver, but he controls himself and does not open his eyes. Was he that tired?  When you begin pulling up the quilt over you, shame or some other feeling drowns him, wishing to hide from this moment, but he can’t fall asleep so he persisted in lying in bed in silence as you obstinately pull the blanket higher and higher.
A terrible, awful weakness overcomes your senses, you try to lay with your eyes closed, because desire is the kind of thing that eats you and leaves you starving and you can’t master your need for him—that realization leaves you rather embarrassed, and at once flush crimson. This feels all so humiliating, and then you make that blunder, a very important one—you think about pleasuring yourself. That’s just what makes you so ecstatic, that you have a presentiment.... and though it’s so dreadful, it’s all for the best. In fact, you believe nothing better could have happened, because this is once in a life's opportunity. Involuntarily, you find your eyes scouring the darkness, looking for the outline of his bulky body, but you can only feel the warmth radiating from it. You move your fingers slowly and strainedly, working your way down your torso and swallow when you reach your panties as your nipples harden, poking through your shirt. You swiftly pull your panties to the side, strings of your wetness part from your underwear and you realize—there is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable. You breathe meekly and squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment, because you hate the notion of being reduced to pleasuring yourself merely because of his close proximity, an embarrassing, desperate thing to do, but even so you keep on gently touching yourself.
You begin sliding your index finger between the folds of your entrance, it makes you shiver and your mouth slightly hangs open, heat rushing to your puffy cheeks, eyes halfway shut. The magic that coils through your own touch leaves you breathless, and your back arches a bit into the sensation as a strange euphoria. You struggle slightly to stay motionless, the other hand trails down to your breasts to squeeze them slightly, purposely avoiding your nipples for now. You use the gathered wetness and press your finger firmly against your clit, making your thighs twitch. A sinner who sins boldly—but that makes you freeze. And yes, you have a sordid soul in many ways, but on the contrary, it is full of a fine feeling—of love for him. You are anxious, worrying is using your imagination to create something you don't want —but what if that movement woke him up? What if he somehow knows?
You start to rub slow circles around your clit as you tilt your head to his side, taking a shallow breath in through your nose. You are so aware of your sin that you fully cherish it and your imagination is a wonderful thing, it allows for all manner of undiscoverable thoughts —will he rub your clit like that? Maybe he will eat you out and moan into your cunt as he devours it? The soft flesh of your inner thighs ripples just a little as your legs shake, even though you try to control it, your chest heaves up and down just by thinking about it. You knead violently at the flesh of your right breast, pinching and flicking at your own nipple as you stimulate yourself. Then something unexpected happens. He sneezes. “Sorry” he says quietly, distinctly. It feels like you are caught, tried, and condemned to death. “Bucky? Bless you” you talk with as much composure as you can. And he was not supposed to hear, because It's a horribly private moment, a vulnerable moment on your part and he should be sleeping.
“Are you—” begins Bucky, but pauses in confusion. “No-” you interrupt suddenly, with a look of weariness, focusing on your lungs, on your ability to take a deep breath, to soothe with oxygen as the word rolls off your tongue while a deep blush suffuses your face. “Because I am” He is jerking off—? Well he was sliding across the painfully erect cock slowly through the fabric, making sure he didn't cum. His tone is so natural and respectful that you can't possibly suspect him of any insincerity. He feels instinctively that some such well-sounding humbug, brought out by him, will soothe your worries, and will be specially acceptable to you in such a delicate position. It is clear from his radiant face that he considers his words for the right ones in this moment, despite you not seeing his features in the darkness. Bucky gets up on his elbows, there is no glamor, no attempt to hide it, nothing: his lust takes over all his senses. The unwelcomed bubble of intrusive need, sinking into an even more heavily occluded state. His hard dick twitches and arousal trickles down his spine, because of his own confession. You feel him shift on the bed and he turns on the light on his nightstand. 
His eyes narrow until they have faint darkish glitter. You feel stuffy, there is not enough air to breathe as he stares at your face, his consciousness already vanishing and deforms itself in something primal, there is a delicious animal fire in his gaze. 
You have curiously thoughtful and attentive eyes, eyes that are very pretty and very nice, he loves when you turn to stare at his blue orbits—but you are fantasizing right now—which is utterly inappropriate for the part of your mind which wants to just hug Bucky all day long. “Were you thinking about me?” He asks innocently as he shamelessly stares—swallowing you whole. Slowly, you nod. He pushes off the blanket and your gaze drops to the outline of his cock, pushing up his heart into his throat—your breathing is eager and exciting—lips are faintly chapple, but soft in the corners. 
And then, his hot mouth is breathing into your ear and before you can even blink, he is on top of you, lips ghost over your earlobe. His hot mouth is breathing into your skin, your chest is pressed against his and he can feel the swell of your breasts through your shirt. You gasp as you feel his broad chest and toned abdomen holding you down as the hard bulge in his boxers rubs deliciously against your clothed pussy lips. For where all love is, the speaking is unnecessary—he kisses your neck, lips, cheeks, worships your skin, because holding you in his arms is more natural to him than his own heartbeat. He doesn't want just sex—he seeks passion. “Bucky-”
You keen between short breaths, between his gentle kisses as your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck. He rips your panties down with his metal hand and then reaches into his own to help his cock spring free. Drop of precum lands on your abdomen as he runs his thumb over the veins that run along the underside, barely audible as he drags his fingers across his tip, gathering the wetness before moving his fingers in front of your face. He gently rubs your lower lip, a finger working its way inside of your mouth, pressing on your tongue, eliciting a gag before removing it completely. “God, baby girl” he growls in your ear as his fingers brush up your soaking cunt “You look so innocent yet you were mastrubating right next to me” he goes on as he runs the tip of his finger back and forth, collecting your slick. Your eyes are pinched shut, lips parted ever so slightly, panting softly, a rosy flush coloring your cheeks. If it is the dirty element that gives pleasure to the act of lust, of his words, the dirtier it is, the more pleasurable it is bound to be—you are shameless, he thinks, swallowing the guttural groan that escapes him. You moan when he puts his fingers in his mouth, feverishly licking them, tasting you.
He is eagerly holding up his cock then he lines up your hole, he thrusts his hips forward, his cock pressing into your front, earning a squeal from you as he runs back and forth dragging his length across your opening and then slowly plunges into you. It is a slow, torturous process as your cunt stretches around him, accommodating his girth. Love is something he wants to nurture and grow, a connection that exists within each one of you—he has not missed a single one of your gestures, not one of the indications of your body and now it occurs to him that your eyes themselves have the color of love, they speak the language of both emotions and pleasure.
He breaks the intense eye contact to attack your neck, sucking and lightly biting on your weakest spot. Never have you been more aroused than, more needy as you continue to be relished by him by cock inside of you. "You are so bold sometimes. It's why I love you" he smiles against your hot skin, wondering how on earth he'd been lucky enough to find you. Whiny, stranded pleads leave your lips. His words are so sweet in comparison to the filthy trusts. His lips find yours as he feels you getting closer and he pushes you farther to the edge as he begins to fondle with your clit, your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, sending your body into a wave of pleasure. You clenching around him—shuddering against him, as an orgasm washes over his own body. Bucky lose himself in your eyes—in the vocabulary of them as the pleasure goes through your body. The words became unnecessary. He made you feel loved.
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riverbutghost · 8 months
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He is much more older than you
part 2 here
“You might as well call me old man now, huh.”
Simon muttered and laughed half heartedly, but you didn’t. You didn’t like his comments on his age, because it reminded you that he was old. Sure he was older, much more older than you, but you didn’t care. You wanted him. Maybe it was toxic, maybe weird. Maybe you were fucked up in the head to want him like that. You didn’t care. You wanted him, not just his body. His tender eyes, soft touch…His deep voice would make your chest tighten.
“Well, happy birthday again sir.”
Smiling at him under your long eyelashes with an innocent expression, Simon clenched his jaw. He averted his eyes.
“Thank you, sweet girl.”
You bit your lip, suddenly feeling flushed at his comment.
“I bought you a gift, sir.”
Simon swallowed the lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure what you were doing to him. He didn’t want it, he was sure. But oh God, was it so delightful to want the forbidden.
“Oh,”
You gave him a small box, and he opened it after giving you a quick glance.
“Wow, beautiful.”
Simon muttered, mostly to himself. You had bought him a knife with a carving. It was your nick name, the one Simon would call you. Simon felt his heart clenching, his throat tingling. This wasn’t right. Why wasn’t it right? His soldier bought him a gift, that was all.
“You’ll never forget me now.”
You smiled at him, but he swallowed. Forgetting about you was the only thing that was right.
-
“You can’t just keep fuckin’ do that, you hear me?!”
His deep voice rumbled, as he pushed you into the wall of his office. With tears streaming down your face, you pushed him off of you.
“I want you! I don’t car-“
“I’m 35 for fuck’s sake!! You’re not even 21 yet!”
You just sobbed unintentionally and dropped your eyes.
“I don’t care, Simon. Sir, please-“
“Stop it.”
He hissed through clenched teeth, his voice vibrating through his chest. You looked up at him, but his eyes were cold and distant. His hands took a hold of your chin and he gently rubbed it.
“I don’t want you. That’s it. Get a grip, or I’ll file a complaint. Understood, pretty girl?”
You nodded your head. Because there wasn’t anything you could do. But you weren’t going to stop. He would eventually cave in, you were sure.
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d-targaryenshoe · 2 months
Text
Pinkish Clouds - Anthony Bridgerton
Word count: 1515
Summary: It is very precious to watch your husband take responsibility as a father, is it not?
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As the first rays of sunlight streamed through the drapes, Y/n Bridgerton, wife of Anthony, stirred in your sumptuous bed. 
The soft linens, embroidered with intricate floral patterns, caressed your skin like the gentle touch of a spring breeze. The scent of lavender filled your nostrils, a welcome aroma that signified a new beginning. 
You stretched your limbs, the memory of the labor pains you endured the day before still fresh in your mind. 
But as you lay there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment and accomplishment.
You opened your eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of your chamber. 
To your left, a fireplace crackled, its warmth banishing the morning chill. To your right, a large window overlooked the immaculately manicured gardens beyond. 
And beside your bed, your sisters-in-law, Eloise and Daphne, sat in quiet conversation, their laughter tinkling like bells.
You felt a pang of affection for the two women who had become such an important part of your life since your marriage to Anthony. 
Eloise, the youngest of the two, had always been somewhat of a sympathy to her. 
With her smart mind and independent soul, she was a far cry from the demure, obedient society ladies you had grown up with. 
Yet, there was no denying the deep bond that existed between them. As for Daphne, she was sweet-natured, charming, and utterly irresistible. 
As you sat up in bed, your sisters-in-law turned to you, their faces alight with curiosity and excitement. 
"Good morning, y/n," they chorused, beaming at you. "How do you feel?"
You smiled weakly. "A bit exhausted, to be honest. But otherwise, I'm doing well. How are you two?"
Eloise shrugged.
 "We're fine. Daphne's been keeping me company while you were asleep. It's been rather dull if I'm being fair." She glanced at her sister, her expression teasing.
Daphne rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. I've been enjoying myself. Again, we have something rather important to discuss." She leaned in conspiratorially.
 "Mother has been pacing the hallway for hours. I think she's tense to see the new addition to the family. I'm sure she'll be in soon." 
As if on cue, a knock was heard at the door. "That must be her now," Daphne said, her face lighting up with anticipation.
Eloise rose from her seat and crossed the room to answer the door. You, feeling slightly more awake now, sitting up straighter in bed, wondering what your mother-in-law had in store for you today. 
As Eloise swung the door open, a warm, familiar figure filled the entrance.
 "Mother!" Daphne cried out, leaping to her feet. "We've been waiting for you."
Violet Bridgerton, the family matriarch, surveyed the scene with a delighted smile. 
"My, my," she said, her eyes twinkling. "It seems I've missed quite a bit. A new baby, I hear." 
She glanced at you, her expression softening into one of motherly concern. "And how are you feeling, dear? Are you in need of anything?"
You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked at the woman who had become your second mother since marrying Anthony. 
Violet was everything a lady should be, gracious, elegant, and utterly devoted to her family. 
She was also fiercely protective of them, always making sure they were well cared for and safe. 
As you struggled to find the words to express your gratitude, all you could do was manage a small smile. "I'm doing well, thank you. Your presence is all the comfort I need."
Her sisters-in-law exchanged knowing glances, clearly understanding the depth of emotion behind your words. 
They each took turns leaning in to kiss Violet's cheek, expressing their own gratitude for her love and support. 
As they did so, the room seemed to fill with a palpable sense of warmth and affection.
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Violet said, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Now, I have a special gift for you and the baby. I've been working on it for months." 
She reached into her reticule and pulled out a small, delicately wrapped package, which she placed in your lap. "It's not much, but I hope you'll like it."
Your curiosity piqued, and you gently unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful, hand-stitched blanket adorned with intricate lacework. 
"Oh, Violet, it's lovely!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking with emotion. "I will cherish it always." 
Tears began to form in your eyes as you clutched the blanket to your chest. "Thank you, thank you so much."
Eloise and Daphne exchanged knowing smiles. They knew that this gift, more than anything else, symbolized Violet's acceptance of you as one of her own.
 It was a symbol of the love and support that you all shared as a family.
As they continued to stand there, the room seemed to fill with a sense of peace and contentment. 
Even though there was still so much that needed to be done, for this brief moment, you were all together, united in your love for one another.
"Now, girls," Violet said, her voice soft and gentle, "I've been thinking. Perhaps you would like to help y/n with something?" 
Her suggestion was met with nods of agreement from Eloise and Daphne. 
They had been itching to help out but had wanted to give their mother time to bond with you first.
"Would you like us to help you get out of bed?" Eloise asked, her tone reassuring. "We could help you down to the sitting room to see Anthony and the baby." 
Your face lit up at the thought, and you quickly nodded your consent. The two sisters moved forward, each taking an arm to assist you as you slowly rose from the bed. 
Once you were upright, they were beginning to guide you toward the sitting room.
The hallway was long and winding, the walls adorned with paintings that told the story of the family's history.
 As you made your way down the hall, you could hear the faint strains of music drifting towards you. 
It was the same waltz you had danced to at your wedding, the one that always made your heart skip a beat. 
The closer you got, the more the music seemed to swirl around you, pulling you forward with irresistible force.
Finally, you reached the sitting room, its windows overlooking the lush gardens beyond. 
The room was lit by soft candlelight, casting a warm glow over the gathered family. 
Anthony was dancing slowly with your newborn baby, his eyes never leaving the child's face as he moved in perfect harmony with the music. 
Eloise and Daphne guided you to a comfortable chair by the window, where you could watch the scene unfold before you.
As you all watched, you could feel a lump forming in your throat. It was so beautiful to see your husband dancing with your child, their love for each other shining through every movement. 
You could see the resemblance between them, both of them with Anthony's dark hair and eyes. 
The baby's tiny fingers curled around Anthony's finger as if she were already familiar with the feeling of being held so close.
Your sisters-in-law took seats on either side of you, their hands clasped together in their laps. 
They smiled at you, understanding the depth of emotion that you were feeling at that moment.
 It was a precious moment, one that you would all cherish for the rest of your lives.
As Anthony finished his dance with the baby, he came over to you all, his face flushed with happiness and exhaustion. 
He bent down to kiss your forehead, his touch sending a wave of warmth through your body.
 "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I wanted to be the first one to hold her, and I did not want to wake you."
"It's all right," you replied softly, your eyes never leaving his face. "I know you were with her." Anthony smiled at you, a tear trickling down his cheek. 
He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"I've been thinking," he said, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "That we should have a naming ceremony for the baby. Something small and intimate, just for our closest friends and family. What do you think?"
Your heart swelled with joy at the thought. You turned to your sisters-in-law, your face alight with excitement.
 "That sounds excellent," you said, your voice shaking slightly with emotion. "I would adore that." 
"Then it's settled," Anthony declared, his voice strong and sure. "We'll have the ceremony next weekend. Everyone will be here to celebrate with us."
 He leaned down to kiss your forehead again before returning to his daughter, who had fallen asleep in his arms.
As you all watched Anthony gently rock the child in his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. 
You were home, surrounded by the people she loved most in the world. And despite the challenges that lay ahead, she knew that they would face them together, as a family.
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festivalsofmargot · 1 year
Note
how do you think Ominis, Garreth, and Sebastian would react to a jealous reader being jealous because someone else was being flirty and asking them to the Yule Ball?
The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy
{Garreth Weasley/Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader}
Word Count: 
Garreth: ~ 1500 words
Ominis: ~ 1700 words
Sebastian: ~ 1400 words
Warnings: Kissing, Fluff, Angst
Author’s Note: Lord, I’m having so much fun with these requests. Thank you, anon!!! I tried to make them all have different reactions to reader getting jealous, but I know they’d all secretly love it lmfao. So it’s a little similar, but it’s definitely the 3 boys enjoying it in their own way. Have a fun time, everyone 🥰 Hope you’re all having a good day ❤ 
Songs (if interested):
Garreth’s song: You Stupid Bitch - girl in red
Ominis’ song: Silence / akiaura - hentai boys, akiaura
Sebastian’s song: My Kind of Woman - Mac DeMarco
-
Garreth:
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“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?” Garreth Weasley had come up to you and asked. For someone who was asking if something was wrong, he could look a bit more concerned. Rather than just munching on his apple, looking at it like it was the only thing that had his full attention.
You took a deep breath and rubbed at your temple roughly. You were overreacting and you knew it, but dammit you couldn’t help but hate him at the moment. “No Garreth, I’m just not in the best mood today.”
“Well, talk to me.” He plopped himself down on the Central Hall fountain bench next to you. “Some have called me a good listener.” He took another bite of his apple, obnoxiously loud.
“Not right now. Why don’t you go bother someone else?”
“Who else could I bother like this? You and I got a good thing going.” He haphazardly joked.
“How about your date to the ball? That’s a good place to start if you ask me.”
He furrowed his brows, trying to decipher what you were talking about. Then he remembered Samantha Dale had asked him to be his date the night before. “Oh! You know about that? How does word travel so fast in such a huge castle?” He wondered aloud with his mouth full, looking at his apple as he turned it in his hand.
Merlin, you didn’t know why you were so head over heels for Garreth Weasley. Something about his carefree, aloof attitude made you fluttery all over. You wanted to smack him just as much as you wanted to kiss him. 
Truth be told, you were convinced he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But once you saw Samantha Dale talking with him about it and seeing how big his smile was, you became so frustrated with yourself for ever thinking such a thing. How could you have been so wrong about his signs? You shouldn’t have assumed your flirty banter together was something special between the two of you. You had no one to blame but yourself.
“Look Garreth, I’m pretty busy. Samantha will be better company than me today.” You took out the essay you were halfway finished with and began writing, hoping he would take the hint.
He was about to take another bite of his apple when the pieces came together in his brain. You think I said yes to Samantha... and you're jealous. 
It was hard to keep calm when he felt so elated. He had been pining for you since 5th year and never had the courage to confess his feelings. Being with you as a friend was better than risking not being with you at all. But here you were, acting as green as his eyes. Becoming jumpy, he scratched the back of his head and looked away from you, trying to bite back his delighted smile.
“So...” He began as casually as he could, “You don’t like the idea of me going to the ball with Samantha?”
You stiffened. Am I caught? You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t care who you go with, Weasley.”
You used his last name instead of his first, that was how he always knew if you were upset with him. In this particular moment, he took a dark pleasure in it. “Well, it sounds like you care a little.” 
You looked up from your essay to the marble floor in front of you and clenched your jaw, trying to calm your irritated nerves and stop yourself from saying something you’d regret. “It doesn’t matter if I care. Go with who you want.” You went back to your essay.
“But you care.” He slid closer to you so that his thigh was touching yours. Your whole body tensed and you shifted your leg away, disgusted at his brazenness to continue flirting with you when he was going to the ball with someone else.
“I’m going to work in my room.” You pulled your belongings together and left your place next to him.
Garreth got up and followed you easily, finishing the last of his apple and tossing it in a nearby bin. He rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to wipe off any apple juice. Maybe he could wipe off his idiotic smile while he was at it too. 
You could feel his chest practically against your back as he followed close in pursuit. “Leave me alone, Garreth. I’m really not in the mood today.” You growled at him, but he didn’t let up. 
He took glances around as he kept up with you. Once he was confident no one was looking, he grabbed your arm and pulled you into a nearby, empty corridor.
“What are you -”
“Tell me you’re jealous. I want to hear you say it.” 
His words sent your mind through a whirlwind and you shoved him away. “You got some nerve, going to the ball with Samantha and going after me like this -”
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake! I turned her down. School gossip failed to mention that part, I see.” He interjected. “Now let me have this a little longer.” He stepped closer to you, daring you to push him away again. “This thing where you want me all to yourself, I think I really like it.” His words came off as a jest, but he was genuinely aroused.
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine if he was being truthful or just trying to keep up his flirty banter with you. But your icy glare at him through your lashes only made him more feral rather than intimidated. 
“I -” He cleared his throat, regaining composure. “I’ve been looking for you all day so I could ask you to the ball, but you kept dodging me.”
“Garreth, if this is some sort of messed up joke where you try to get two dates to the ball -”
“It’s not. But, that is a fun idea.” He quipped, hoping it would lighten the mood. 
Sighing, you turned on your heel to walk away.
“Sorry sorry sorry, bad joke, bad time.” He grabbed your wrist, panicked. “But I’m serious about taking you. I really want to take you.” He swallowed thickly and held your wrist in his hand. “Would you... want that too?” As he waited for you to respond, he had started stroking your skin with his thumb, unaware he was doing so.
His hopeful look along with his tone had managed to convince you he was being truthful. This was the first step either of you had taken beyond flirty banter, and it had you finally soften to him that day. You looked at his hand on your wrist and adjusted so you could entwine your fingers through his. His heart nearly burst out of his chest. Was this finally happening?
You looked up at him then, but locked on his lips rather than his eyes. Heat formed in his abdomen at your gaze. He used his free hand to cup your jaw. The dark look in your eyes told him you had the same severe craving for him as he did you. He eased towards you and brushed his lips over yours.
He pulled back to gauge your reaction. You looked at him with wide eyes and for a brief moment, he thought he had messed up and taken it too far. But all that panic went away when you dropped your books and threw your arms around him, seizing his lips, taking all coyness between you two and throwing it out the window.
Your sudden burst had rocked him both physically and mentally. Gripping you back, hard and fast, he steadied himself, stepping on your essay as he did so. He matched your eager mouth movements with just as much intensity. 
Needing to come back up for air, you pulled back. You looked at each other, breathless. All that tension between you two through the years had finally been able to get released at least somewhat.
“You looked so happy when Samantha asked you. I assumed you said yes.” You told him, still catching your breath.
He hadn’t realized you had been there to see Samantha asking him to the ball. He was both sorry you didn’t catch him rejecting her and sorry you had to catch it at all. Merlin only knows how he would have handled watching someone else asking you. “She’s a good friend, I mean I wasn’t going to scowl or laugh her off. I was letting her down as easy as I could.”
“I’m sorry I was jealous.”
He kept his face close to yours and glanced back at your lips, ready for more. “I’m sorry I enjoyed it.”
“No, you’re not.” 
“I’m not.” He captured your lips once more.
Ominis:
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Ominis was in a full on panic. He hadn’t the faintest idea what he had done wrong. He may be blind, but he could sense, clear as day, that you were upset with him. 
He was pacing back and forth in his dorm room when he was supposed to be at dinner. The sickness he felt had made it hard for him to want to digest anything.
He had been up at all hours of the night thinking about how he was going to ask you to The Yule Ball. But every time he tried to approach you that day, you’d take your leave. He thought he would have gotten his chance in History of Magic class, but everything seemed off. You usually tried to sit close to him and brush your fingers along his, it excited him each and every time. But today, he felt as if you were sitting as far as you possibly could from him.
He was trying to think back on everything that happened before you became so drastically distant. The last time he remembers you two being fine was when he had finally built up the courage to ask you that morning. 
Sebastian had pushed him to do it and fueled his ego to prep him, affirming that he saw the way you looked at him and how you weren’t so subtle about it. He was filled with so much joy, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling like a buffoon when he went to talk to you. 
“Ominis!” You had greeted him so cheerfully, it had removed any doubt in what Sebastian told him. As he was about to greet you back, Adelaide Oakes had touched his shoulder from behind to grab his attention. She then went on and on about how she fancied him, and took the ball as her chance to finally tell him how she felt. He had never been so overwhelmed with romantic attention in his life, it only fueled his confidence more. His words came out in a stutter to Adelaide to thank her but decline. It was difficult to turn someone down while grinning like a fool.
“I um - I'll leave you two to it.” He heard you say before he finished speaking with Adelaide. Your footsteps behind him had walked away so fast, he would have believed it if you were running. And ever since, for some reason you’ve been... oh. It hit him then. You must have assumed he was going to say yes to Adelaide. You couldn’t possibly be jealous, could you? If you were, he needed to find you and fix this immediately. But damn him if he wasn’t a bit thrilled at the idea.
He had his wand guide him to the first place he thought you could be in, the astronomy tower. It was late in the day, he was sure you’d be there. As he made his way up, he found his excitement at your jealousy swelling. You weren’t jealous because he was a Gaunt, a descendant of Salazar Slytherin, going with someone else. No, you were jealous because he was Ominis, a boy you liked for who he was, going with someone else. Or so you thought.
When his wand brought him to the astronomy tower and sensed you were close, he felt a bit of pride that he knew you as well as he thought he did. But he steadied himself, remembering you were upset with him. Coming at you beaming probably wasn’t the best approach.
“Ominis? What brings you here?” Your voice was monotone, nowhere near as pleased to see him as you were earlier.
He was relieved you were willing to speak to him rather than run off. “I needed to talk to you. Figured you’d be up here.” He approached cautiously.
You furrowed your brows, wondering what he could possibly need you for. Oh you’d just die if he wanted to ask for advice on how to treat Adelaide well at the ball. You turned away from him and lazily looked through your telescope. “Probably best we talk tomorrow.”
“You’re upset with me.”
You peeked up at him briefly, knowing it wasn’t fair to be, then went back to your telescope. You exhaled, inwardly chiding yourself. Ominis doesn’t owe you anything. “I’m sorry, I’ve just... had a lot on my mind.”
His wand guided him to the railing you were near and he leaned himself against it. “I’m all ears.” Part of him wanted to clear everything up as soon as possible, but another, increasingly louder part of him wanted to hear you confess that you were jealous, confess that you didn’t want anyone else to have him but you. So, he dared to play coy a little longer.
“You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”
“Try me.” The way he said it had taken you aback, as if he was telling you, not asking you, to talk to him.
“And what if I don’t want to tell you?” You looked back up at him, a bit of venom coming through.
He took a few steps towards your voice. I think I like this game. He knew he shouldn’t find your jealousy this exhilarating, but he did. He wanted it to absorb you until you couldn’t stand it anymore.
The look on his face stirred something fierce in you and you tried to take a quiet, calming breath. You hoped he wouldn’t hear you doing so, but he did, and it only added fuel to his fire.
“I don’t hear you walking away, so I think you do want to tell me.” He reached out for your robes and pulled at you to come closer to him. 
You had been weak for Ominis Gaunt since 5th year, so you obliged. But you didn’t do so without internally screaming at yourself for being such a fool. 
Despite being so close, you kept your hands to yourself, he noted. But he could sense your body tensing and he knew you were close to talking. He just needed to hold out a bit longer, push you just so in the right direction. “You’re angry with me, tell me why.” He knew why.
“I shouldn’t be angry with you.”
“Yet you are.”
“I am.”
“Tell me what I’ve done.”
“You... haven’t done anything.”
His grip moved from your robe to your waist, he could feel you shift at his touch, but you didn’t pull away. “I have, tell me.”
“You know, you shouldn’t be up here with me alone, touching me like you are. Wouldn’t want Adelaide or me getting the wrong idea, would you?” He could hear the bitterness in your voice, and it was sending him over the edge. You shoved his hand away and went to the railing, leaning forward and looking out. “I don’t think you mean to, Ominis. But you’re really messing with my head. Looking as happy as you were when Adelaide asked you to the ball, and now you’re here acting like you care for me.”
He followed your voice again and came up behind you. His hands found your shoulders and he comfortingly slid them down to your biceps. His touch still had the same, nerve-racking affect on you. You shrugged him off and turned to face him. He put both hands on the railing on either side of you, trapping you in. “I do care for you.”
As a friend. You wanted to finish for him. Him saying this to you knowing he was going to The Yule Ball with Adelaide hurt. Ominis was the last person who should be comforting you. “I need to go.” You nearly choked, heartbreak constricting your throat. But Ominis kept you blocked in, he wasn’t going to let you leave. 
“Tell me why I’ve upset you.”
Being in this position with him had an inferno swirling in you. Being able to see his pale, blue eyes this close had any fight in you vanish. “I wanted... you to ask me to The Yule Ball today. I wanted you to go with me, not Adelaide.” 
He leaned forward towards your neck and brushed his nose along your skin. 
Your melancholy turned into something else at his touch, something more throbbing. You reached your hands up along his chest, felt his heartrate pick up along with yours. “I want you to be with me.” You confessed in a whisper.
He began to kiss at your neck and you fisted the fabric of his uniform to keep yourself upright. He kissed up your neck, along your jaw, feeling his way to find your lips. He got to the corner of your mouth and pulled back just slightly, leaning his forehead against yours.
“I want you all to myself.”
He crashed his lips into yours. Your hands held tight to his shirt to keep him close. He took his hands off the railing to wrap his arms around your waist, his place against your mouth feeling all the more secure. You nipped at his bottom lip and he couldn’t help but let out a throaty “mmh.” 
He often tried to imagine what it would feel like to kiss you, the taste of your lips, the sensation of your hands roaming him as pretty as you pleased. This moment had been better than anything he conjured up in his head. He had never envisioned how much hot need would be in it until he had you there in his arms.
You tried to push him away suddenly, but he kept at you, not yet having had his fill. “Wait -” You caved for a brief moment and kissed him back, then pulled away again. “What about -”
“I said no to Adelaide.” He went back to your lips, then to your neck to explain himself so you’d stop pulling away. “I was going to ask you. But you ran off.” He hoped that was enough to stop any further questions, because his mind was already onto more pressing matters. He had heard that sucking on someone’s neck would leave marks, he decided to try it on you then.
You bit your lip, trying to keep your eyes from rolling into the back of your head. “You um -” You cleared your throat, “You still want to ask me?”
“I will, but let’s not talk right now.” 
-
Sebastian:
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“What has gotten into you today?” Sebastian caught you off guard, shutting the greenhouse door behind him. You were tending to the carnivorous plants for Professor Garlick, you being the only student she really entrusted with such duties. 
You glanced at him over your shoulder, then brought your focus back to the plants. “I’m a little busy right now, Sebastian.”
He had never heard you speak to him with such acidity, you might as well have slapped him in the face. You had been in a sour mood with him all day. Of all the times for you to be upset with him, why did it have to be the day he had finally decided to confess his feelings and ask you to The Yule Ball? He strode to your side and bore his gaze into you, willing you to face him and explain yourself.
You didn’t give in and continued tending to the chomping cabbages. Sebastian was the last person you wanted to see. After everything the two of you had gone through, all the glimpses you gave each other, all the near kisses, how could it not mean the same for him as it did you? Was his overprotectiveness for you something brotherly rather than romantic? You felt so stupid having mixed the two. You had fallen so deeply in love with him through the years, and now you’ve come to find he doesn’t see you in that way. He made it very obvious how smitten he was when Grace Pinch-Smedley fawned over him, professing her love and asking him to the ball. 
“At least tell me what's upset you so.” He said sternly, interrupting your tragic thoughts.
You knew you should wait until your anger dissipated before speaking with him, but in that moment you didn’t care. You set down your gardening tools and turned to face him.
“How about we talk about you first, Sebastian?”
He let out a frustrated exhale through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. “What about me?”
“I saw you and Grace speaking this morning, seems you were quite pleased with yourself. Care to share?”
He quirked his brow, not sure where you were heading with this. He remembered Grace speaking with him, but he didn’t remember feeling ‘pleased with himself’. “You saw Grace and I, did you?”
“I did.” You turned back to the chomping cabbages then. “Seems she was doing more than just asking you to the ball.”
He inwardly cringed at the memory. He was flattered at her confession, sure. But the part where he had to reject her had really taken away anything pleasant about the moment. “She told me she had been... harboring feelings for me.” He got shifty thinking back on it, getting rejected after spilling your guts like that must be dreadful.
You took note of his body language, and rosy cheeks. It was salt in the wound and the scowl on your face deepened. “No need to be so bloody bashful about it, Sebastian.” You mumbled.
He stilled then. You thought he was ‘bashful’ thinking back on his interaction with Grace? The gears in his brain started turning.
In that moment, you figured this was your last chance to lay it all out there for him. Since Grace very blatantly told him she wanted more than just a date to the ball, best to tell him how you felt now before they were officially together.
You turned to him fully. “Sebastian, do you care for me?”
His heart began racing and he straightened. “Of course.”
“Like you care for Anne and Ominis?"
“I do.” He said with conviction.
“So, like a sibling?”
“I - Well, I -”
“Because I don’t care for you like a brother, Sebastian.” You took a step towards him.
He was entranced, listening close to everything you had to say. The air between you two grew thick and it clicked for him then. The possessiveness he usually felt over you was now what you were feeling over him. You were under the impression he accepted Grace’s feelings... and you can’t stand it. A rousing sensation shot through him. He wanted to see what more you would do with this newfound greediness for him. 
“Perhaps you should have gotten to me before Grace did.” It was bold. He knew he was treading on thin ice, but seeing you act in the way he usually did was a turn of the tables he never knew he wanted to see. He was going to egg you on, get as much of this avaricious side out of you as he could before you devoured him like the plants in this room wanted to.
You reached out to him and began trifling with his tie. He stood perfectly still, afraid that if he moved you’d get discouraged and release him. “Are you telling me you would have been mine if I got to you first?”
Oh yes. “Suppose we’ll never know, considering you didn’t.” This wasn’t at all how he thought confessing his feelings to you would go. But this was a much more electrifying way to do so.
The two of you had unknowingly stepped closer to one another, pulled together like magnetic stones. Your hands were no longer fiddling with his tie, but rather holding it, ever so gently pulling him towards you. “So I’ve lost you, have I?”
Fight for me. Don’t let anyone else have me. “And if you have?” He wanted to find out what your lips tasted like more than he ever had before. He was so close, and eyed them oh so hungrily. But he tried to hold strong a bit longer, so he could know if you were feeling just as carnivorous for him as he always had for you.
The fire in your eyes almost had him on his knees. 
Claim me. Claim me as I’ve claimed you.
Giving his tie a hard yank, you pulled him to you and caught his lips with yours. You didn’t waste any time, straightaway tasting his bottom lip with your tongue. Keeping an unyielding grip on his tie, you shot a hand up to his hair and held tight. He put his hands on your hips, and couldn’t stop himself from pulling at your shirt so it came untucked. His hands roamed around your lower back, under your shirt to feel your skin.
Your movements in this kiss were the result of years of pining. There was both an ache to take it slow, feeling everything you both possibly could, and an urgency to make up for lost time right then and there. Now that you finally had him... Wait wait wait, I don’t have him.
You tore yourself from him and walked away, tucking your shirt back in.
“Wha - What? Where are you going?” He was breathless and dizzy and disheveled from your kiss. Get back here.
“Go to Grace.”
He groaned. He should have known keeping up the Grace ruse would have some sort of consequence. But in the moment, he was so obsessive over the fact that you wanted to stake your claim on him, he couldn’t help himself. “I lied about Grace. I turned her down.”
You turned to face him, still keeping your distance across the greenhouse. “Why would you -”
“Because being near you makes me crazy, that’s why!” He shot a hand through his hair, more out of anguish than to fix the mess you made. “I’m mad for you. How have you not noticed? This... possessiveness you have over me today? I feel it for you all the time. So, I’m sorry if I crossed a line, I -” He let out a shaky breath, trying to put the words together. “Seeing you act how I have... I wanted to relish it a bit longer. Forgive me.”
You remained where you were, but he could see your features shift. “Enjoyed my suffering, did you?”
Trying to keep his composure, he nodded his head. Your sultry look had his blood heading somewhere it shouldn’t in the middle of the greenhouse.
He may have been slow catching onto your jealousy, but he was quick to catch that you wanted his lips back on yours. Ravenous himself, he strode up to you and pulled you back against him.
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st4rrth0ughts · 3 months
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Hello!!! Since I've been reading all of ur fics especially the hsr ones, I like it so much(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) . I don't know how you got the idea of it and it makes me feel giddy. If u may , can I request: I want to do unspeakable things to Welt Yang(I main him) like I wanna mark him, bite him, doing different positions, just mating non-stop, I don't know what to add for the reader, you can add tho if ya want, but I want the reader taller (⁠。⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠。⁠). This is my first request btw (I apologize if I have the wrong grammar or the text of it)
Can I be your "❄️" anon? (⁠>⁠0⁠<⁠;⁠)
bestie no need to apologise that thought is so real (btw whats your team comp i need one for peepaw)
welt with a taller baker reader from the luofu 👓🦯
tw, cw: angst (reader is dead in hi3,) i dont play hi3, food play (occasionally feeding him some chocolates for being a good boy, nothing extreme), petplay, reader is immortal and thus is extremly confused on how Welt's vocal cords are working a/n: 1. what the fuck is a honkai 2. should i play hi3 3. does anyone hate feeding and fattening related kinks??? sorry but i just- cant even try and read those fics ngl the art makes it WORSE
welt loves you. at least, that's what he tells himself, seeing your counterpart work around in the luofu's famed bakery, having been years since he's held your dying body in his arms, sobbing as the light drained from your eyes. He's snapped out of his thoughts as you shoot him a friendly grin, gesturing the man and his two companions to come in. You look the exact same that he remembered you. But your not the same person. He cant just go in and try to convince you he's your lover from another universe, he'll look like a maniac! well, it seems the months of exchanging letters and gifts has won him the spot in your heart. Oh, and in your bed, as a bonus.
Sometimes, when Welt looks at your face, he feels like both crying and hugging you. You just- looked so much like your dead counterpart, from your eyes and hair, down to the way you fucked and handled him with so much care in bed. But he knows that you aren't them, never will be, in fact. And that's okay. He loves you in his own way, just like he loved them once. The man would never lump the two of you together, because you aren't them. (blade im looking at you)
But for now, he doesn't focus on that, simply relaxing in your hold, letting you unbutton his shirt, slide your hands over his underwear, your coarse but gentle voice sending shivers down his spine. A small whimper escapes his mouth as your finger teases his entrance, while you grin at how slick he already is, at least you dont have to find the lube. Lifting his thighs onto your shoulder, and licking that sweet pussy delicately, eliciting a delightful moan from the man, fisting your hair as he tries to grind weakly against you face.
This lovely man, for someone that's 82 years old- well, in human years? You were an immortal from the Luofu, humans are confusing. That being said, from what you've read, humans are more fragile in this state. How he was squealing and crying out in such a high pitched voice, arching his back as tears spill from his eyes as your tongue ravishes his pretty pussy, you figure that he's straining himself, just for you. How adorable, he's doing such a wonderful job. and good boys deserve a huge reward! Cooing softly as you push a small piece of chocolate in his mouth, watching him swallow it as he pants softly, a delirious smile on his face.
Grunting as you gently placed a collar around the man's neck, the leash's end gently clicking around the loop, smiling as he whines softly at the gentle pressure on his bite ridden neck. Pulling the leash closer, the bell jingling lightly as you pull him in for a sloppy kiss, free hand reaching down to fondle his nipples, watching the brunette throw his head back as he jerks from the stimulation, shrill shrieks escaping the man's mouth as he begs for your cock in him, to fill his cunt with your cum. He's been doing such a good job, he deserves the final prize.
Muffling his sobs as your cock pounds into him from behind, only for his head to be yanked back as you tut your tongue disapprovingly, his mind only registering about how he was being such a naughty little puppy, and that if he does that again, you'll just stuff a plug up his pussy, and leave him there, and he doesn't want that! So he's your good boy, eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out as he makes sounds that rival the top pornographic models you've seen. Aeons- you can practically feel your cock threathening to cum when he squirts for the nth time, kiss ridden thighs quivering as he begs so, so sweetly for you.
When you finally cum in him, he wails as he creams around your cock, weakly fucking himself back on you, pupils dilating as he weakly falls on the bed, ass in the air as your seed spills from his puffy cunt, overflowing as you coo softly, in that mocking, sugar coated voice as you line your shaft with his entrance again. The sheets were already soiled with the poor man's cum and sweat, as he screams in overstimulation, babbling about how he couldn't take anymore. Nonsense. He's swallowing your cock so greedily, your not falling for that.
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strangersmunsons · 3 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 1 Prompt: Flowers 💐 ~ 1,000 words Eddie surprises you with a bouquet of flowers.
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You sigh as you trudge to the front door, stomping the excess snow off of your boots before entering the house. After a long, cold day, all you really want is to curl up on the couch with a cup of hot tea. 
All your outerwear is stripped off and hung, melted snow dripping little puddles on the hardwood floor. You quickly change into a pair of comfier clothes, seat yourself in the living room, and flick the TV on.
You’ve made it halfway through one episode of mind-numbing television when the front door pushes open again.
Eddie’s here.
You’re still getting used to that. There used to be someone, then for a long time there wasn’t anyone, and then Eddie came into your life, which meant that someone was…here, again.
He looks handsome, as he always does, when he comes in and finds you. He’s all warm, dimpled smile and puppy eyes, and the bit of scruff he neglected to shave off gives you a delightful scratch when he leans down and kisses you hello.
One hand is carrying a crinkly plastic bag, which he holds firmly behind his back, while the other hand softly cups your cheek. 
“Hey,” he says quietly, rubbing his nose lightly against yours.  
“Hi,” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Did you stay warm today?”
“I did. Had my hand warmers and everything,” he reassures you. 
You give him a little squeeze. “Good.”
He kisses your cheek. “By the way, I have something for you,” he says slyly, straightening back up. 
You blink, confused. “Oh?”
He pulls the bag out from behind his back, holding whatever the object is from its bottom. Then he bunches the plastic down around his fist, so you can get a clear look at what’s inside.
Eddie is holding a bouquet of flowers. 
It’s a mix of large and small blooms, ranging in color from white to pale pink to deep maroon. Some are roses, and you guess at the others. You think the small ones might be baby's breath, and the larger ones, dahlias, perhaps? You’re not sure. Whatever they are, they’re beautiful.
You simply stare at the fragrant blossoms, lips slightly parted.
“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks gently. “You good?”
“Yes,” you manage, an awestruck smile slowly unfurling across your face. “Those are for me?”
Eddie laughs kindly. “Of course they are,” he teases. “You see anyone else in here?”
A wave of unexpected emotion washes over you, and a lump rises in your throat. You rub at your temple with a shaky hand, embarrassed by your own intense reaction.
“No one I’ve been with has ever gotten me flowers before,” you admit.
Eddie visibly softens. “Well, I don’t know how that could be, but I’m honored to be the first.” He removes the grocery bag entirely and lets it drift to the floor, handing you the bouquet. “Thought it’d be appropriate for today.”
“Appropriate,” you murmur, sniffing delicately at a silky rose, eyes shining with happiness. “What do you mean?”
“Uhh…have you looked at the calendar today?”
Something in his voice snaps you out of your reverie, and you drag your gaze away from your pretty flowers to his amused expression. 
He cocks his head to the side. “It’s the 14th, baby.”
It takes a second, but it finally dawns on you. Your heart lurches.
“Oh my God,” you mumble. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize —”
Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “That’s okay. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ve been meanin’ to get you flowers at some point, anyway.”
His smile tells you that everything is okay. You decide to believe it.
You hold the bouquet delicately, handling it as though it were priceless. Eddie follows you into the kitchen, where you pull your only vase out from its place beneath the sink. You blow a speck of dust off the glass rim, and fill it with water.
Then, after carefully peeling the cellophane away from the bundle, you lay the flowers aside on the counter. 
“You have to cut the stems at an angle, so they absorb the water better,” you explain to Eddie as you rifle around the junk drawer for your kitchen shears.
Eddie watches your ministrations with tender affection. “Oh, yeah? How does that work?”
You pause your movements. “I don’t know, actually,” you confess. “That’s just what my mom taught me.”
You proceed with cutting away the excess stems, and move the flowers into the vase, trying to arrange them exactly as they were when Eddie presented them to you. When they look right, you place them in the center of your kitchen table.
“There.”
Eddie stands back and admires your handiwork. You step in front of him and move in close, so that your middles are nearly touching.
“Thank you, Eddie. They’re really beautiful.”
Your eyes are wide, desperate for him to understand the gravity of the gesture, and how very much it means to you. 
But he knows. He always knows.
He closes the space and pulls you in tight, wrapping his arms around you, so that his hands settle at the small of your back, fingers laced together so as to keep you there forever.
“Do you really like them? ‘Cause when I was at the store, I had a way bigger one at first. It was all huge red and pink flowers. And then a lady in the checkout line told me I should pick a different one, since carnations are apparently tacky.”
You press your face against his chest. “That’s silly. I’d like your carnations too, Eddie.”
“‘They’re filler flowers,’ is what she said.”
You chuckle at his disgruntled tone, and the sound muffled is against his t-shirt. “Nevermind her. And to answer your question, yes, I really like them. I love them.”
Eddie notches a finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards. “I love you,” he tells you for the first time, and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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klausinamarink · 9 months
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(saw this post and laughed at everyone’s tags and ended up writing this instead of my actual wips i should really finish whOOPs)
-
Eddie bopped his head lightly along to Mötley Crüe on his Walkman as he scribbled his ideas for the Thanksgiving oneshot. He managed to finish the gruelling biology homework and his English essay tonight, so he deserved a treat.
As he tapped his pencil against his desk, he looked up and happened to catch one Steve Harrington’s face at the window.
Eddie perked up, taking his headphones off. Steve grinned, gave his dumb finger wave, and pointed at the window. Eddie gave him a ‘wait a second’ gesture and hurried to close his door, peeking first at the living room where Wayne sat on the couch and read his newspaper. Then he swiftly moved his Mötley Crüe tape to his radio and cranked the volume up that would cover any discreet noise.
He lifted the window open, taking a moment to closely observe Steve’s face in his goofy awestruck glory. “What brings you to my balcony, Romeo?”
Steve shrugged playfully, “Doesn’t Juliet yearn for his lover to come at unknown hours under the moonlight?”
Eddie gave himself a second to turn away and cover his delightful shriek with a palm over his mouth. Goddamnit, his boyfriend is a perfect Shakespeare romantic. He leaned back in with a low whisper, “Sounds like Romeo needs an excuse to see Juliet.”
“That’ll be great since I’m literally tiptoeing on this box right now.” Steve laughed and heaved himself up with a ‘hup!’ Eddie stepped back to let his boyfriend shimmy in, but then his eyes widened in horror when he realized what was under the window in his room.
“Wait, Steve-!” Eddie cut off as Steve landed elegantly onto the small bookshelf instead of the bed because he had switched their places the previous week because his brain was on a weird day and Eddie had thought doing so might shut it up, so he has yet to reverse them.
The bookshelf toppled over on the floor, along with the lamp and other figurines. Steve himself pretty much crashed and rolled before he stopped himself on his side. He looked up at Eddie in bewilderment.
“Uhhh…”
Before either of them could say anything, Wayne burst into the room. Out of instinctive reflex, Eddie threw his bedsheets right on Steve, covering him but not really hiding him.
“What’s going on?” Wayne asked. His gaze landed on the mess and the very obvious Steve blanket lump on the floor.
“Nothing!” Eddie answered, too cheerily. “I was just dancing a lot and, uh, did this. By accident, sorry.”
Wayne stared at him, clearly not believing his ass. “…Right.” He said slowly. “Does Steve want to stay for breakfast in the morning?”
Eddie blinked innocently and, because he was the best liar in the entire world, said, “Who’s Steve?”
Steve made some muffled guffaw sound. Eddie subtly kicked him in where he hoped was in the shins. Wayne gave him another stare before coming to Steve the Blanket Lump and lifted the sheet up where Steve blinked just as innocently back.
“What’s your name, son?” Wayne asked matter of factly.
“…Steve?”
“Steve, would you like to stay for breakfast in the morning?”
Steve looked over to Eddie, who quickly shook his head no, then back at Wayne with his parent-rated charming smile. “Of course, I wouldn’t mind, Wayne.”
His uncle nodded and dropped the blanket, covering Steve again. He turned and walked out of the room, calling out, “Better not hear any more noises again!”
Eddie practically dropped to the ground, his face in his hands, and groaned aloud. This was so embarrassing. He felt Steve’s arms hugging his chest. “Eds, babe, I’m sorry but you know I would die for your uncle’s buttermilk biscuits and jams.”
He glared at his boyfriend half-heartedly. “Stealthy like a ninja, you say?”
Steve pointedly looked down at the fallen bookshelf. “Welllll, I could’ve sworn there was always a bed there-”
Eddie kissed him. “Well,” he said after they broke apart, “maybe I’ll let Romeo help me clean up and all shall be forgiven with our usual duties.”
Steve wiggled his eyebrows with a shit-eating grin. “Clean up, you say, Juliet?”
Wayne hollered at Eddie to close his bedroom door.
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fuckmyskywalker · 2 months
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18+, lover Anakin, cheating, secret affairs, pregnancy. fem!reader/afab!reader
I forgot to mention it but @sublimeflowerpersona has helped me so much with this AU and we have talked about it so much and I'm so happy... consider this more introduction to the AU.
"How are you feeling, darling?" Your mother asks, massaging your shoulders and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I'm alright," You reply, rubbing the top of her hand affectionately. "The obstetrician said the baby is healthy and everything is going how it should be."
Your mother smiles and sighs relieved, kissing the top of your head. She raises her eyes to look at Anakin who was sitting at the other side of the table. "And thank you Anakin for driving her to the clinic. I'm so glad my daughter has a best friend like you."
Anakin smirks, not flinching in the slightest when you kick his shin underneath the table. "It's a pleasure, I'll always be there for her... that's what best friends are for, right?"
Thank God your mother was behind you, so you she didn't saw the grimace in your eyes. Anakin loved to play with fire... and to be a cocky piece of shit. He kicked your shoe playfully, never taking his eyes are you.
"Will Richard be away from the city for long?" Your mother asks for your husband which causes your jaw to clench. You swallow the lump in your throat, nodding instead.
"Yeah, he comes back this Friday."
"How's the baby shower going?" Letting go of your shoulders, the woman who gave birth to you and practically arranged your marriage sits next to you, taking off her rings to rub her fingers. "You still don't want me to help you?"
"There's no need, Richard and I are taking care of it. Plus Lisseth has been surprisingly a sweetheart." You brush her offering with a kind smile. You don't want your poor mother to worry too much at her age— or to stick her nose where she shouldn't.
"She's just excited to be an aunt, you know?" Mom rolls her eyes, slapping your hand playfully. "Your father is also very excited, although he has a hard time expressing it," Then, your mother turns her attention to Anakin, smiling sweetly at the boy she saw growing up as your childhood best friend. "Are you excited to be an uncle, Ani?"
Anakin raises his blue eyes from his phone, locking it and placing it on the table next to his coffee cup. He nods, white teeth glowing under the dining table lights.
"Oh, I'm delighted. I've been waiting for this moment my whole life."
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hannyoontify · 4 months
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dream - yoon jeonghan
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member | jeonghan x reader
genre | pure. teeth-rotting. fluff. js kie going through jeonghan brain rot
word count | 2.8k
synopsis | jeonghan pinches your cheek to remind you that this isn’t a dream
warnings | ass-grabbing?? but in a non-sexual way, lots of cheesy pick-up lines and flirting, reader and jeonghan are absolutely down bad for each other and it’s sickening
notes | my baby :((( i hope he feels better soon
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Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered open as the pale sunlight seeped in through the bedroom window and curtains, casting bright rays of light onto the walls. Jeonghan could hear your soft, stable breathing next to him and rolled over to face your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful asleep, your usual creases of worry were nowhere to be seen. Rather, it was replaced by a look of serenity and Jeonghan smiled endearingly as you wrinkled your nose in your sleep. He rubbed his eyes and draped a lazy arm over your waist, quietly watching you as you slept. He tried matching his breath with yours, but it only left him wheezing and breathless. 
His eyes roamed around your face, starting from your soft lips that jutted out in your sleep. Your nose that Jeonghan loved to kiss. That small tear mole on your cheek that mirrored his own. He admired the swell of your cheeks and traveled up to your closed eyelids. Jeonghan’s eyes trailed back down to your lips, which now were slightly parted, revealing the slightest bit of your teeth. He leaned over to press a quick kiss to your lips, smiling against your lips. You stirred a bit, which startled Jeonghan, but remained asleep. 
Jeonghan propped his head up with one hand, the other still draped over your waist, and watched you sleep, watching your chest rise and fall in a rhythmic pattern. After a while, (Jeonghan doesn’t really know how long it’s been–it could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours–he always had a horrible sense of time when it concerned you) your eyes opened and reached up above your head for a stretch.
“G’morning, sunshine.” Jeonghan whispered as you twisted around to get another stretch. Your hair was mussed and a mess, but he couldn’t care less.
“Morning, Hannie,” you mumbled as you scooched into his warm embrace. You pressed your face into his chest. “Were you watching me sleep?”
“Yeah.”
And although he couldn’t see your smile, he could hear it in your voice. “You’re such a creep.”
Jeonghan simply hummed and traced shapes on your back as you stayed in his warm embrace for just a little longer. You (unfortunately) pulled away and rubbed at your sleepy eyes and Jeonghan leaned over to press a kiss to your forehead.
“We need to make breakfast.” you muttered and threw the duvet off to get out of bed. 
“Oh, no you’re not.” Jeonghan’s strong grip on your waist kept you from going anywhere, and he wrestled you back into a tight cocoon of blankets. “You’re staying here today. I’ll make breakfast.”
You didn’t respond and looked at Jeonghan with a delighted look, your eyes sparkling. Your husband’s cooking was always a delight–and a surprise. You never knew if you were gonna get a Michelin star worthy meal or a barely edible looking lump of burnt… something. But judging by the soft look in Jeonghan’s eyes, you had a feeling you were going to get the former today. 
He reached over and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his warm hand cupping your cheek. The metal ring resting on his ring finger felt cold against your face, raising goosebumps on your skin. You smiled into the kiss and giggled as Jeonghan pulled away with a lovestruck look in his eyes. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
You felt your cheeks burning up at what he said and waved him away. “What’s with that cheesy line? We’ve been married for 5 years now, Hannie.”
“Exactly, and each day is better than the last.” Jeonghan pressed one last kiss on your forehead before disappearing into the hallway. You rolled your eyes at your cheesy husband and nestled into the blanket cocoon he stuck you in.
In the kitchen, Jeonghan was bustling about with a boyish grin stuck on his face. He loved doing these things for you; you were never an early bird and struggled to get out of bed and Jeonghan was always willing to do these things for you. After almost dropping two raw eggs and chipping a porcelain plate, your breakfast was ready to be served. 
Just as Jeonghan was ready to bring a tray into your shared bedroom, you shuffled out, still wrapped up in the blanket wrap he had put you in earlier. The edges of the blanket dragged along the floor as you sauntered up to the kitchen island and looked at Jeonghan with an expectant smile.
“Breakfast is served.” Jeonghan tipped his non-existent top hat and grandly gestured to the plate he laid out in front of you. The smell of the toasting bagel was what had drawn you out of bed, and the food looked better than it smelled(? Did that make sense? You didn’t know but you really didn’t care because you were so damn hungry).
Leaning on the opposite of the kitchen island as you, Jeonghan watched you inhale the bagel slathered in cream cheese, a bit of the spread smeared on your cheek. He reached over and wiped it away with his thumb, which made you cover your face in embarrassment and he laughed.
Jeonghan loved these kinds of mornings with you, a slow start to your day with no responsibilities. He could lie in bed with you as much as he wanted and he could press gentle kisses on your soft lips as much as he wanted to. 
He sighed and rested his head against his hand on the counter, his eyes full of endearment as he watched you enjoy your breakfast. You caught Jeonghan’s eye mid-bite and smiled sheepishly. “What?”
Jeonghan felt his own lips tugging up into a small smile. “Nothing, I just love you.”
He paused for a moment. 
“And sometimes I wonder if this is all a dream. I get scared that I made all this up in my mind and I’ll wake up any second as the loser I was seven years before I met you.”
You frowned. “You weren’t a loser, baby. You just hadn’t hit your prime yet.”
“In my mid-20’s? Sure babe.”
“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that. I know for a fact I didn’t fall in love with a loser,” You pouted with more cream cheese on your lips. Jeonghan grinned like a middle school boy falling in love for the first time. As he bent over to kiss it off your lips, you reached for his hand and rubbed a soothing thumb over the back of his knuckles, feeling and committing to memory, every groove and channel etched onto his hand leading to his slender fingers.
When Jeonghan pulled away, it was your turn to reach over and pinch his cheek. “Ow, what was that for?” Your husband pouted and rested both hands on the edge of the marble countertop, slightly bent over at the waist to maintain eye contact with you. 
You smiled mischievously, but soon, the cheeky look in your eyes softened into an endearing one. “You felt that, right? I promise you, my love, this isn’t a dream.” You walked around the kitchen island and ducked under his arm to cage yourself between his body and the countertop. 
In a much softer voice, you said, “If this was a dream, I wouldn’t be able to do this…” you wrapped your arms around his torso and squeezed tightly, pressing your face into his chest and inhaling the scent of his body wash and your laundry detergent. The smell of home. “Or this.”
You reached behind Jeonghan and grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. Hard.
“YOWCH!" Jeonghan rested his head on your shoulder and whined as you simply giggled into his chest. "Honey…”
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It’s a languid and lazy afternoon; Jeonghan’s favorite kind. Even the weather seemed to act idle, the way the October sun hid itself in the clouds, refusing to reveal its face for the thousands of bustling people in the heart of Seoul.
Similar to the sun, you were also currently refusing to reveal yourself to Jeonghan. You hid your face in the sleeve of your sweater as Jeonghan whined. “Honey… it’s nothing to be embarrassed of! It happens to everyone. I wanna see your gorgeous face.”
You said something that was muffled by the fabric of your sweater and Jeonghan stopped walking to bend over to hear you better. “It’mmfs embarramffing.”
“What’s so embarrassing about a zit? I get them all the time!” Jeonghan said loudly, his chest puffed out with pride. It was your turn to whine this time as you hit his arm with a stifled giggle. Jeonghan’s face suddenly turned serious and he turned to face you. He gently pried your hands out of your face and held them in his own. “Baby, I love you and your face just the way that they are. No amount of zits or acne or bug bites is ever gonna change that. Okay? So let me see your absolute drop dead gorgeous face.”
You couldn't help but smile at his heart-warming ment and Jeonghan immediately brought a hand to his heart and pretended to faint. “They’re too lovely! Catch me, I think I’m falling for you!” 
You couldn’t hide your groan this time as Jeonghan slumped into your arms dramatically, imitating the flatlining sound of a heart monitor. “You’re the corniest person I’ve ever met.”
Jeonghan looked up from his place in your eyes and flashed you a blinding smile. “But you love it.”
“I would beg to differ.”
“Baby!” 
After lots of consoling and reassuring (and kisses), you were able to convince Jeonghan that you did, indeed, love his corny pick-up lines, and stand upright again to continue your late afternoon stroll in the neighborhood park. 
Hand in hand, the two of you continued your walk in silence. Jeonghan’s fingers were entwined with yours, his palm radiating with heat and comfort as he occasionally stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. The soft crunch of leaves under your feet and the soft, gentle breeze blowing past were the only sounds Jeonghan could hear. 
He heard you gasp softly and he looked over to see what had grabbed your attention. You tugged on Jeonghan’s sleeve and pointed towards a pathway to the right, where bright flowers were blooming.
“I wanna walk through there.” You whispered excitedly. 
Jeonghan didn’t know why you were whispering, but matched your volume nonetheless. “Let’s go, then.”
You began walking towards the direction of the flowers and Jeonghan lingered behind, watching you bound and leap towards the plants. When he caught up to you, you were already bent over, admiring the vibrant colors. As you began reaching out to pick one, Jeonghan grabbed your hand and pulled you upright. 
“It’s okay, I’ll do it for you.” Jeonghan bent over in your stead and picked out the prettiest flower he could find in the patch (that was within reach. Jeonghan loved you but he didn’t have the heart to step on plants to get a flower). He spotted a dandelion and he reached for it as well before straightening his back and looking at you with a proud smile. 
You stifled a giggle as Jeonghan gave you a once-over with a love-sick look in his eyes before he stepped closer to you and tucked the flower behind your ear. 
“What’s so funny, angel?” Jeonghan asked in a hushed voice. His dark brown eyes stared into your own. They were delicate and sweet as enticing pools of swirling dark chocolate, like a glowing light with flecks of gold reflecting the dull sun’s shine. 
“Nothing, I just feel like the main character in a cheesy rom-com movie,” You whispered. “Like you said earlier, I really hope this isn’t a dream.” 
This time, it was Jeonghan’s turn to reach over with his free hand—which wasn’t soaked in the sticky sap from the stem from the dandelion he picked earlier—and pinch your cheek. You pouted but Jeonghan simply reached over and pressed a quick kiss to your lips and rested his forehead on your own.
“It’s not a dream, okay? Here, we can blow and make a wish on this dandelion and wish for us to be happy together, just like we are now, until forever and after. Until the ends of the earth.”
Jeonghan revealed the dandelion to you and placed it between your two lips. “Make a wish,” Both of you screwed your eyes shut, desperately wishing and praying that the two of you will always be happy forever in each other’s arms. “And blow.”
Hundreds of white, cotton-like bristles flew in every direction–but mostly into your mouth. Due to Jeonghan’s poor calculations, he blew a millisecond before you did and sent all the bristes flying into your mouth. However, Jeonghan wasn’t left unpunished by the gods. 
The two of you pulled away, violently hacking and coughing as you tried to spit out all the fine needle-like substances out of your mouth, and Jeonghan began reaching in and swiping at his mouth and tongue.
A moment of silence.
“… Thath wath a lot leth romantic than I exthpected,” Jeonghan said. You gave him a look before bursting into laughter. He joined you soon after and the two of you doubled over, holding onto your stomachs for dear life until tears sprung out of your eyes.
Wiping away a stray tear, Jeonghan offered you a hand with a faint smile. “Let’th go home.”
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If Jeonghan had to pick and name one place in your shared home as his favorite spot, he would pick the balcony with no hesitation. It was where the two of you shared your first meal together as a married couple in your new house, as none of your furniture had arrived, so the two of you sat on the floor of the balcony and watched the sun set over the skyline of Seoul and watched the nightlife come to life. 
It was where some of the most quiet, intimate moments that Jeonghan shared with you took place. Late night talks full of giggles and nonsense. It was also where the two of you had your serious conversations. Stolen kisses, hushed whispered, loving glances. In short, the balcony held a lot of memories for you and Jeonghan.
The balcony has changed a lot since the first night you and Jeonghan ate jjajangmyeon on the floor of the balcony. The railing was decorated with fairy lights and there were two lawn chairs and a coffee table—perfect for your late night talks.
Today, you and Jeonghan opted to stand. Your husband’s arms were on either side of you, trapping you between his warm body and the railing. His body acted as a wall of protection from the cold wind. Jeonghan nuzzled his face into your hair and inhaled, breathing in the soft scent of your shampoo and sighed in content.
You stared out into the sky, watching the sun set lowly over busy Seoul when Jeonghan spoke lowly into your ear. “What are you thinking about, angel?” His warm breath tickled your ear. The sun was a bright shade of red as it bid farewell to your side of the world, ready to pass the imaginary baton to the moon. Streaks of bright red, orange, and yellow pierced through the sky and cast shadow where the clouds were. It was like a painting. 
“Nothing, just… looking.”
Your husband sighed and rested his chin on your shoulder. After a beat of silence, he spoke again. “I love you, a lot. You know that, right?”
You hummed. “Of course I do,” You reached behind you and lightly ran your fingers through Jeonghan’s hair, the silk strands slipping through your fingertips. “And I love you too. So much.”
Jeonghan’s heart suddenly swelled with the immeasurable amount of love he felt for you in that moment. He buried his face in your hair to try and hide his welling tears, but his sniffling gave him away.
“Hannie? Are you crying?” You don’t wait for a response. You whipped around and held your loving husband’s face in your hands as he sniffled, his sparkly eyes tinged with red as a single tear streamed down his cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
Jeonghan nodded and smiled through his tears. “I just.. love you. So much. I never want to forget this moment with you. I want to treasure all the memories we share forever, locked in a vault in my mind so I can remember it for all of eternity.”
You gently pinched his cheek. “Not a dream, right?” Jeonghan nodded. “As long as I’m here with you, by your side, you’ll always remember the warmth and the love that we share.”
Jeonghan pulled you in by your waist and captured your lips with his soft ones. He pressed your body tightly against him, sharing your body warmth. You wrapped your arms around his neck as his mouth moved against yours, making you lose track of all sense and time. 
“I love you,” Jeonghan mumbled softly against your lips, as if it were a secret just for you to hear. “Always have, always will.”
“Me too, Hannie. I’ll love you for as long as you use those cheesy pick-up lines.”
“You’re never hearing the end of those.”
“I really hope not.”
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reblogs and feedback is always appreicated ^-^
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