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#even the way they did the chocolate coating was different
maxsix · 6 months
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Taebin: Total Opposites
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kteezy997 · 5 months
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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.
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Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!
As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.
It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.
You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.
These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.
.....
Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.
With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.
Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.
"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"
"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."
"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.
"No, I don't mind at all, sir."
Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."
"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."
"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.
“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”
“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.
“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.
He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.
You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.
“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”
Willy smiled widely, “I��m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”
He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.
“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.
“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”
“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”
“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.
You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.
You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.
“Here you are, sir.”
“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.
“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.
You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.
“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"
“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.
“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.
You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.
He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”
“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”
“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”
He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”
You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.
“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.
“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”
“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”
“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.
Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”
“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.
He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”
“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.
A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.
He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”
“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”
You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.
“Are you alright, y/n?”
“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.
Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.
You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.
"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.
Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.
You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."
He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.
Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.
"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.
He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.
He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.
"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"
"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.
Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.
"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.
You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."
"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.
You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.
"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.
You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.
"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."
"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."
Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.
The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.
Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."
"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."
He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.
"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.
Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.
"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.
You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."
He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."
He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.
"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.
"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.
The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"
"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.
"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.
Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."
"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.
With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.
You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.
You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss
@chalametbich
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finelinevogue · 6 months
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firsts
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summary - it’s your first date out with harry
pairing - new-boyfriend!harry x reader
word count - ~1.5k
“When you said you had a brilliant idea for a first date, I have to say, this was not what I had in mind.” You said.
Both you and Harry were sat back against the edge of a lake, wrapped in thick coats with a cup of hot chocolate in each of your hands.
Harry and you had been talking for a little over 3 months now, after having met through the internet. He had been watching a video of you on Youtube, since you were a booktuber, and had not stopped smiling since he first laid eyes on you.
It had been a video about your favourite books - something so simple - but Harry could not stop watching the 27 minute long video.
After months of talking you decided it was time to meet up.
“What did you expect?” Harry asked, sat with a good 30cm between you.
“Uhh… I don’t know? Maybe, dinner and drinks?”
“Oh c’mon. You know me better than that. Dinner and drinks? I’m trying to get you to like me, not get bored of me already.” Harry chuckled, his eyes crinkling as they always did when he smiled.
“You don’t have to worry about me learning to like you. I already do.” You nervously smiled, sipping your hot chocolate to hide your big grin.
Harry nudged your shoulder with his lightly.
“Me too.”
“So why are we sitting out in the cold?” You brought your knees up to your chest to conserve body heat.
“People watching.”
“People watching?”
“Mhm. I like watching people go about their daily lives and guess what they’re doing and where they’re going. If there’s a couple it’s even more fun, because you get to guess their love story.”
The way Harry spoke made it seem that he genuinely had a passion for people. If was so refreshing to watch. After so many gross and uncomfortable dates with people that just didn’t understand basic human interaction, this was a nice change.
You sat watching Harry watch people, enjoying the way his eyes loved watching people move around the Earth.
Harry was glancing at an elderly woman when he said, “You’re supposed to be watching them, not me.”
“Sorry.” Your cheeks went hot red and you looked down at the floor. You weren’t ashamed, but you were just so embarrassed that he could make you feel like this and it was only the first time properly meeting him.
“Do I look different in real life? Is that why you’re staring? Have I catfished you?”
You tilted your head to rest against your arms, which were propped on top of your knees, to look at him with a cheeky smile.
“No.” You pulled your lips in to suppress a smile. “The opposite actually.
“Okay and what’s that?”
“You’re too handsome. Y-you catfished me by not telling me just how good looking you are.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to blush. “Aha o-okay.” He nervously giggled.
“It’s true. They all claim you’re the most gorgeous man on the planet, but, well, you really are.”
“Alright, you don’t have to pay me back in compliments just because I bought your hot chocolate.” He rolled his eyes.
“Are you cold Harry? Your cheeks are red.” You teased him.
He just shook his head with a smile.
To make him feel better, and before you ran out of courage to flirt more with him, you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his red cheek. It was only short and you made sure you left no remanence of your lipstick there, but it was enough for Harry to whip his head around to look at you.
“Was that your apology for teasing me?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Obviously.”
“Rubbish apology.” He tutted.
You scoffed, “Excuse you?”
“If you wanted to give me a real apology, my lips are right here.” He pointed to his lips, like you didn’t know where they were.
You rolled your tongue over your front teeth and shook your head at him. You didn’t give him the stratification of what he wanted though, and instead turned around to go back to people watching.
Harry closed the 30cm gap between you until he was pressed against you. He brought his own knees up to his chest, resting his arms and head on top of his knees.
You tilted your own head sideways to face him, both of you mirroring each other. You stared into each others eyes and without speaking you knew you were having a staring competition.
Harry moved forwards and bumped his noses against yours, making you blink. He moved backwards with a sly smirk.
“You cheated.” You pouted.
“Maybe. I won, though. Think I deserve my prize, don’t you?”
“Hmm. Depends.”
“On what?”
“What the prize is.“
“I’m sure we can come up with something.” He teases.
“No kisses though. I’m saving them.”
“For who?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed and you felt like you were the one winning this time.
Just as you were about to retaliate, someone stars playing the guitar and another person sings through a microphone. The music lights up the entire park area, scaring off some ducks on the lake.
You sit up to see where it’s coming from, noticing a man and a woman performing together. You look at them and instantly notice the love between them, sharing their love for music with all the people here.
Some people start to congregate and start dancing.
You laugh as you watch them, jumping up yourself. You excitedly hold out your hands for Harry to latch on to.
“C’mon.” You urge Harry.
“Who are you saving kisses for?”
“Haarry…”
You walked backwards into the crowd of dancing people.
You kept a watch on Harry as he stays seated in his little spot, watching you.
An old man comes up to you and asks for a dance, to which you accept. He held you like you were dancing in the 50s, rocking back and forth. He was a good dancer for his age and you couldn’t stop laughing as he told you stories from way back when.
After a couple of songs he said he needed to sit down for a bit, so you made your way back over to Harry who was still sat down.
You slowly walked in front of him, before crouching down in front of him. Taking his hands in yours, you kissed them a couple of times. Harry watched you intensely as you worked your words out.
“If you must know… I-.. I haven’t been kissed before so I was nervous. Okay? It’s silly to be nervous over, I know, and you’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. I, um, I just get in my head sometimes and I do really want to kiss y–”
Harry loosened his hands from yours, cupped your cheeks and brought you against his lips all in one move. It was so smooth that you didn’t even realise that he was kissing you until you registered your lips on his.
You moved your lips against his like you knew what you were doing. He guided you and only kissed you softly, not pressuring you to do anything harsh.
He pulled away first, licking his lips from where your lipstick had passed onto him.
“Was… Was that okay? I mean..–.”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
He kissed you again, moving more this time. He kissed you like every romance book had told you guys kiss. He was gentle, but he was passionate. He kissed you like he was aware this was new to you, but also like he wanted to ruin you for every other person ever.
Your own hands cupped his cheek softly, and Harry slowed down once he felt your touch.
“That…” Harry breathed out heavily. “You…”
“Me?” You let out a breathy laugh.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I’m so screwed with you, Y/N. You’re ruining me for anyone else.”
“Is.. is that okay?” You asked nervously.
“I don’t want there to be another person. I don’t want there to be an after you. I know this is our first date, but I feel so much for you Y/N. So, so, much. I don’t think I’m ever going to feel this again and I sure as hell know I’ve never felt it before.”
You kissed him this time.
Lovingly. Passionately. Infinitely.
“Just write me a love song next time.” You joked and he laughed. In Harry’s head, though, he was already writing you those love songs.
“Now. Let’s dance.”
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gr1mstar · 3 months
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heyyy I love love love your L&DS writings omg you're one of the few who actually write accurate character personality (literally few writers Ik for L&DS)
May I request how will they react if reader/mc is jealous on someone. Dying for the reaction of Rafayel!!! Thank youuuuu lovie💕
JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY…
notes: i’m sorry for the wait but this week was hell for me :) but now i’m back. i hope you like it! And thank you for your kind words.
contains: love and deepspace boys x reader, jealous reader, fluff, established relationship
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ZAYNE
he knows the face when he sees it. he knows right away that something was off, but knowing you he didn’t say anything.
zayne didn’t understand why you were jealous of his patient. it was a patient, someone who needed his help and probably would not see again after they were treated.
when he saw that you didn’t say anything all day, he decided to talk with you. sitting on the couch with hot chocolate in hand you looked at his eyes, face red.
“why why?” you asked, trying to change the subject, to shy to speak your mind.
“why are you making that face? you did that all day. tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
you didn’t want to talk about it, putting your head between his shoulder and neck, sighing slowly, “i have to?”.
and so you told him what happened. how his patient was looking loving at him and how they tried to touch his forearm. how sexy he looked in his coat and glasses and how you were jealous that he didn’t pay attention to you.
“dummy. you know i only care about you.”
“i love you.”
XAVIER
he knew something was off when you refused to play with his hair, but he didn’t know what. let’s say… you were angry at him for a few days.
why? at first you were jealous at his partener. after some time working together, you decided that was the best to have different partners just to be able to concentrate.
“did something happened?” he asked, now sitting on the bed, looking at your figure.
“no” was your answer, not looking away from your phone. you knew it was not fair to be angry at him, but you could not just pretend nothing happened.
“don’t ‘no’ me. something happened, but what?”
so you told him in detail what bothered you and what he did, even though it was not his fault.
“so… are we good now?” he asked, hand on you cheek, looking into your eyes.
“no. i’m still upset.”
“oh come on, babe. i promise it’s not going to happen again, ok? just… kiss me. i missed you.” he complained, blue eyes looking for your lips.
“it’s your partner, xavier. of course it’s going to happen again.”
“who says i’m going to have a partner from now on?”
“xavier!”
RAFAYEL
he knew you were jealous, but he secretly enjoyed it, and so he did nothing.
he liked to see you all red and flustered, and because you did not say anything he continued, curious about how much you can stay that way.
it did not take long before you confronted him, wanting to have a serious conversation about his behaviour.
“what? but i didn’t do anything wrong” he told you, hands in his pockets.
he was stubborn, he knew that you were his weekends and wanted to tease you just a little bit.
“rafayel. i swear, you are going to sleep with the cat if you are not serious for at least 10 minutes”
and so he conformed, being to afraid to have you not sleeping with him at night and sleeping with that… monster instead.
“ok. ok. maybe i was doing it in purpose.”
after a kiss and a tight hug, you were defeated. he knew he was adorable and you couldn’t resist his charms, so he used it against you.
“ok fine. you win this time. but i’m still upset.”
“i know love. i’m sorry. i promise i’m not going to do that again. so now come here, i need you kisses or i might die!”
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© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.
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notsosweetchan · 2 months
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˚ʚ♡ɞ Show Time ˚ʚ♡ɞ
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Notes: Check out part 2
Warning: Camboy AU Smut
Paring: | Chan x Reader |
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At precisely eight-thirty every evening, Y/N would retrieve her charging laptop from her desk and make herself comfortable on her bed.
She eagerly opened it up, looking forward to watching her favorite Camboy. His handle was gnbnahc but most of his viewers know him as Chan or Channie.
Y/N had stumbled across him while watching porn one day 2 months ago, and she had been hooked since. The starting soon screen counting down his start time always made her heart pound with excitement.
His room tinted red from his led lights and the deafening music blaring through her speakers, a stark contrast to her silent room.
Chan has shown his face but body was a work of art. A perfect V shaped torso, toned arms and abs that you could practically etch your name into. “Hello everyone,how’s your night going “ Chan waved to his viewers.
Every livestream started off with him just chatting for a bit before he started to undress. He liked to tease them first, always keeping them on the edge of their seats. “ xxcherrylips ask what are going to be doing tonight” he read a donation message aloud.
“Well I do have something special in store for you all he winked at the camera. Y/N's heart leapt in her chest, her cheeks turning tomato red.
Chan always made her feel seen even though he didn't know she existed. He began to run his hands up his chest, playing with his nipple piercing.
“Tonight I’m going to edge and make myself cum so fucking hard for you all. But first let’s start with a little strip tease” he did a sexy little dancefor his audience. Y/N like an obedient dog , tipped 50 tokens “ to take it slow” she chuckled to herself.
Chan smirked “ 50 tokens for me to take it slow huh, that’s it baby girl? Don’t be stingy ” her face burned a deep shade of red, but she tipped another 100.
“Better” he purred into the mic, his voice laced with lust. He unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, every click of the button making Y/N's heart pound faster.
He turned around, teasingly wagging his ass for her and his other viewers. Tonight felt different, something about the way he moved or maybe how he looked at the camera made her insides pool with arousal and anticipation. Chan reached for his belt buckle and ever so slowly unbuckled it.
Y/N bit her lip as her hand strays to her panties, rubbing circles on her clit through the fabric. He slid his pants down just enough to reveal the tip of his cock,throbbing against his boxers.
He took his time, teasing his way down his chiseled abs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Y/N whimpered quietly as Chan licked his lips and gave the camera a playful wink before pulling down the front of his boxers.
His cock bouncing free, Y/N couldnt believe how much she needed to see him edge himself off.
“I want you to touch yourself for me baby girl, do it now” he ordered into the mic. Y/N listened without a second thought, her fingers slipping between her wet folds. With her free hand she typed out a message to him “Chan I’m so wet for you.”
His chocolate brown eyes connected with hers or at least it felt like it, his smirk growing wider by the second. “That’s my good girl, I want to hear you cum for me” he said huskily. His hand wrapped around his erection,slowly pumping his length.
His other hand disappeared from the screen only to return with a bottle of lube. Y/N moans escaped her lips as he coated himself in it, and to her surprise Chan picked up a toy as well.
“I thought tonight we would make this interesting, whoever tips the most gets to control my pleasure tonight” he smirked.
Y/N's fingers flew across the keypad , fearful of someone else controlling him. But someone else tipped more, Y/N felt her chest tighten with jealousy as Chan moaned out. “Looks like @bigdaddycock123 is in charge tonight, don't disappoint me now babe” he winked at the camera.
Y/N sighed in defeat and continued masturbating to the sight of Chan moaning out his viewers name, but in her mind it was her he was moaning for. Chan worked his cock and the toy in and out of himself, his moans louder now.
The person who was in control sped him up and Chan's moans grew louder, the knowledge that he was getting off on someone else's command made Y/N so wet she could feel her juices soaking through her panties.
“@bigdaddycock123 please can I cum” Chan whined, waiting for the person’s permission “No not yet , I want to hear some more moans from you” Chan whined in frustration, but he did as he was told. His moans vibrating the airwaves and making Y/N's toes curl.
“Fuck I’m so close, please” he begged “Edge for me once more and you can cum” @bigdaddycock123 typed. Y/N couldn't take it anymore , she doubled her efforts to get herself off while Chan edge himself, his moans echoing in her head.
His muscles tense and his breathing ragged. Y/N couldn't take it anymore she was so close herself. “You can cum now @bigdaddycock123 said.
That was all the permission Chan needed , he sped up hisstrokes, groaning so loadly Y/N swore she could feel it deep in her bones. Precum leaked from the tip of his cock, he was so close too.
Y/N rubbed her clit in sync with his strokes .“Fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming now” he roared into the mic, his cock twitching as he came splattering his cum onto the camera screen.
Y/N couldn't hold it any longer, her walls spasmed around nothing as she came hard. The afterglow enveloping her in its warmth.
Chan caught his breath he panted , his chest heaving. “Thank you all for tuning in tonight, I will see you all next time” he winked before signing off. Y/N lay in her bed, her heart pounding in her ears, wishing it was her hand touching him instead of his own.
Y/N sent him a private message “How much for a private show?” she bit her lip waiting for his response.
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che444 · 6 months
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Being (the “I am” state)
(Long post)
I think the most common instance I see in the community when interacting with asks and reading different struggles we all have/have had during our journey, is that people don’t just let themselves be.
A lot of us believe(d) that we have to work hard for everything, and we take that and apply it to manifestation. Maybe you feel it is too easy to just provide to yourself in imagination, you think there must be something else you have to do, that it can’t be that easy. Well, my love, I see you, I hear you, and I have been you. But, I am glad to inform you that when you reach this beautiful garden of truth and learning yourself and how this world works, that it is in fact, that easy.
As children, we played so freely in our imagination, even when we did not have the best days. We were always enthralled with our wildest dreams, excited by the mere glimmer of something new, even if we may have lost the ability to return to that sanctity as life become complicated, and imagination was thrown away for the sharp and harsh situations that life may have thrown at us. But I assure you, that you never lose the ability to imagine, it is never gone for good, maybe put to the side but never lost.
Imagine states being in a big shopping mall. You can try on any state you want, you can fill your cart up with fancy coats and dolce bags if you embody being rich (I am rich, I am financial free, I am always receiving gifts), you can fill your cart with heart patterned sweaters and lovely smelling candles if you are focusing on manifesting love or self love (I am loved, I am chosen, I am beautiful), and if you are trying to embody the state of being unloved you can fill your cart with no happy ending romance books and candles that smell like cat piss and back way alleys after it rains (I am unloved, I am not appreciated). Best deal is, it’s all on the house, all you have to do is pay in your mentality and accept this state as your own.
Now, let’s say you get to the register and you realize you don’t have enough mental bucks to spend on feeling rich today, let’s say life has been going crazy and you can only lay in bed, you feel overwhelmed by everything and you can’t raise your vibes right now.
Well, you’re in luck!
There is a layaway where you can store any state you plan to return to, even if you just need to wallow for a bit. The person at the register doesn’t look angry or upset, the look at you with the same witty smile, and hand you slippers, comfy socks, and a complimentary box of chocolates! You get your receipt and it lists all of what you have on layaway, waiting for you at any time! You can leave confidently knowing that you still have them, they just have to be picked up when you’re ready!
Now let’s break this down:
Clothes and different items you can place in your cart = the state you are wanting to be in
employee at the register = your subconscious, you
Layaway = an infinite amount of states that are always accessible to you because everything is you, they never go away, they are just not being made aware of to come into fruition
The register = the point of deciding, from the moment you make that transaction and put on your new clothes, you are now occupying that state, and the unfolding begins.
My love, those parts of you that you may feel like you have lost due to the harshities of this world are never gone, you just had to put them down because all you had the energy to focus on at that time was what you had to get done (working to make ends meet, dealing with a tumultuous relationship, having mental health issues) and that is okay. It may feel like you need to apply that survival mode to get these good things too. But no my love, you do not. You have been doing this since you were a child, your gift is limitless and always exists inside of you. Use your beautiful and boundless imagination internally to give yourself what you want externally.
When you are down, when you are sad, when you feel like you cannot hold yourself to a new state, work through your current one, do not run away, do not ignore it, do not fight against it to be perfect. You are already perfect and you always will be, Angel. Imagine yourself on a throne, as a famous movie star, go into the depths of your imagination and soar, feel the essence of what is like to be your true self. That doesn’t require you to lift a finger, so be gentle with yourself. No one is angry that you didn’t stay in the state today, you are not a failure, you are learning, and time is not your god, you are god.
when you feel as though you cannot do it today, don’t, but when you can, return to yourself as a child, and bask in your boundless imagination, treat yourself to bliss and never stop and your 3D will have no choice but to give it to you. All you gotta do is go shopping, and that mall is always there for you sweetheart. It is never too late to shop for a new look, you can change it at any time.
I love you, from my gracious heart to yours,
Luv, che 🌷
P.S
PUT THE 369 method DOWN, GET SOME SLEEP AND WATCH A COMFORT SHOW! 💕
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minnaci · 28 days
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fushiguro toji x gn!reader · nsfw · wc: 2.3k
the flowers of the morning glory unfurl when first rays of sunlight peak over the horizon. so does your pleasure. so, too, does toji's hole— though you're sure toji would have words to protest his hole being likened to a flower, even if both the flower and his hole are among the most beautiful sights you've ever seen.
contents: soft!toji, morning sex, penetrative anal sex w/a strap-on (giving), praise (receiving), light/affectionate degradation and objectification (receiving), rimming (giving), multiple orgasms, light dumbification, blink-and-you-miss it cum eating, toji calls himself daddy one (1) time, established safewords (stoplight system)
reader details: reader acts as a service submissive and top (penetrates their partner), but is implied to be vers. reader is on the whinier / needier side (lol). reader has a hole between their legs and feels pleasure when grinding against the base of a strap-on (the body part that is grinding is not specified). reader is referred to as "baby", "sweetheart", "honey", "thing", and "toy". reader is called "pretty". reader's strap is referred to as "your cock". no pronouns besides "you" are used to describe reader.
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you wake up needy, face nuzzling into toji's chest, underwear already damp with the evidence of your desperation.
"morning, baby," toji chuckles, no doubt amused by the seemingly instinctive grind of your hips against his thigh. he sneaks an arm under you, cupping your ass and pulling you even closer.
he's so hot. the increased friction melts you brain a little, sending your whole world tilting on its axis.
"what's got you all worked up, hmm? did you dream of something nice?" his voice dips, all dark and smooth like melted chocolate, and it coats your whole body in warmth.
"may i please fuck you?" the words spill from you even as wetness surges in between your legs. "please, please, please?"
"so needy, and you're barely awake." a brief pause. the sheets rustle. "i'm still sore from last night. any chance you could give me a break?"
you whine, a loud, pitiful thing, and bury your face in his chest. he indulges your dramatics, as he always does, with a lazy grin and a few generous caresses over your back. with the way you're positioned, the pressure of his hardening bulge is unavoidable. that hypocrite wants it just as bad as you do.
"you're being mean," you level a little frown at him. toji has always told you that it's more endearing than intimidating, but either way, the end result is the same, so you can't complain.
"sorry, sweetheart," he says, sounding distinctly unapologetic. "here, i'll make it up to you. where's your cock? i'll help you put it on."
your reticence wars with desire, and as always, the throbbing heat between your legs wins out. you grab your strap and harness from where they were tossed aside. toji had been the one to tear it off in his frenzy to give as good as he'd gotten last night. you hand the whole apparatus to him and shuffle forward on your knees.
"thank you, sweet thing," he says, "always so perfect for me."
every bone in your body melts, reeling from the praise, as he drags gentle hands over your hips, your thighs, your ass. his palms are wide, littered with callouses that make your skin tingle and crave for more. he takes his time, adjusting the straps to make sure they won't chafe. a different kind of heat floods your heart— tenderness.
"my perfect toy," he says, admiring his work. your cock juts out from the intricate web of straps that fastens it to your hips. "a perfect toy with a perfect cock."
you shuffle back, kneeling primly between his thick thighs. he spreads his legs, and your mind goes blank. you'd never considered assholes as something that could be pretty before toji started letting you fuck him, but it's true— he's pretty. you reach out as if in a trance. his rim pouts you, still not quite recovered from its gape last night, and you press two fingers into him. as promised, he's still soft and pliant, and he pulses around you as the tips of your fingers find that rough patch of tissue that never fails to drive toji wild.
"i'm ready, sweet thing," he tries for that sultry, silky smooth voice that makes you putty in his hands, but you can hear the tremble of arousal that weakens him. "i'm all stretched out already— can't you feel it? i don't need your fingers. just give me your cock."
"lemme say hi, first." you can't tear your gaze away. before you can even think to control yourself, your lips press against his hole, and you lick at his puffy rim. his cock flops over your face, dribbling pre-cum over your cheek. you look up at him through your lashes as the taste of lube and something distinctly toji fills your senses.
"fuck, you're a dirty little thing," he groans. "okay, baby. give me a kiss hello."
well, you're determined to give him much more than just a little kiss. your eyes flutter closed as you lavish his hole with attention, dipping the tip of your tongue past his rim and relishing in every shudder and groan you pull from his heaving chest.
toji says something, but you miss it through the rush of blood in your ears. you whine high in the back of your throat, nuzzling your nose against his taint. nothing could be as important as the tender, swollen rim against your lips, the heady taste of sweat and musk on your tongue.
"enough." toji gently pulls your head up, away from his thoroughly ravished hole. you just blink at him, dazed.
his puffy rim catches your attention again. you could do better, you think— you could get him wetter, hotter, looser, fuck him open with your tongue and nothing else, and make him cum all over your face until he's empty and aching.
"i was about to cum," he says, interrupting your train of thought. you nod in agreement, prepared to dive right back in and finish the job. you want him to cum. you need him to cum. you— "you wanted to fuck me, didn't you?"
"mmmnngh," you whine, frustrated, feeling for all the world like starving pup brought to heel in the face of a slab of raw meat. heat pricks at the corners of your eyes. you've never felt quite so wretched as when toji tightens his leash around your throat, keeping you from giving him the endless pleasure he deserves. to your dismay, your tears well up and overflow— a shameful display of your desire.
"don't be like that, baby." toji all but coos at you, stifling in his overbearing condescension. his hands run over your cheeks, your shoulders, wiping your tears away with the precision of a butcher's knife. "you'll get what you want, you spoiled thing. haven't you learned that i always give you the best of me?"
you can't respond. embarrassment flushes your cheeks warm, and you can't quite hold back your little sniffles and sobs.
"oh, come here, sweetheart. don't cry," he's still using that horrible, patronizing tone, the one that always has you easing deeper into hazy submission. he reaches down and lines your cock up with his entrance. "see? look how easy i am for you."
the tip of your cock kisses his hole, and you press forward, entranced by the way he sucks you in. it's a slow, easy slide all the way to the base— he yields to you, welcomes you in. desire is written in every flutter of his rim, every throb of his cock. your gaze finds its way to his face, and your heart skips a beat.
toji wears pleasure with the divine grace of a god. his eyelids flutter under knit brows, long lashes revealing unfocused, slightly crossed eyes. his mouth hangs open, soft groans escaping the little 'o' of his pretty lips. his abs ripple, miles of smooth skin and ridged muscle dancing under your covetous gaze.
his expression shifts when he notices you staring, but his normal sly grin is still softened by pleasure. "you're so perfect, baby. come on. give me what i deserve."
your first thrusts are rabbit-quick— shallow, jerky little things— as you try desperately to regain control of yourself. they earn you a few punched-out gasps, but you know toji. he likes it deep.
you pull back, making sure he can feel every inch of your cock rubbing up against his sensitive walls, then thrust all the way back in, finishing off with a filthy grind of your hips. toji makes a choked noise. "fuck, baby. fuck. just like that, yeah, do that again, perfect thing—"
your brain shuts off, yielding to toji's desires, toji's whims, toji's pleasure. your hips move on their own, thrusting and grinding, thrusting and grinding. the straps around your hips shift ever so slightly. the base of your cock rubs against you, just the way you like it. you pause, eyes wild. you know that when you thrust back in, it'll feel good. too good. the delicious anticipation has your breath catching in your chest.
"what is it, baby?" toji's voice is strained, hoarse— he was about to cum, you think— but there's a clear thread of concern in the gentle brush of his palms over your skin. "color?"
"toji. toji." you're lost for words. how can you even begin to verbalize the overwhelming pleasure that awaits you? how do you tell him that you're scared of it— scared of how good he feels, scared of drowning in the warmth that floods through your nerves? how do you tell him you want it? in the end, there's only one response. "green."
"then what—" toji's grin slices across his face, sharp as a knife. he's put the pieces together. "oh, i understand now. feels too good, doesn't it, honey?"
your jaw hangs slack. your chest heaves. it's all you can do to nod.
"poor baby," he croons. "all that pleasure, and nowhere to hide. are you scared?"
you nod again. your hips tremble, twitching minutely. every movement sends a shock up your spine, frying your brain a little more.
"i— i feel good." your hole clenches around nothing. "toji, toji, i—"
toji's thighs wrap around your hips in one fluid motion and pull, forcing you back inside.
it shatters you.
the friction is even better than you could've imagined, sending you spiralling into a hazy place where toji reigns over your endless ecstasy. your arms go weak, and you collapse against toji's chest. there's no reprieve— not when the shift in position only intensifies the pressure. your hips move instinctively, chasing that pleasure, and your pathetic little whines fall in hot puffs of breath against the shell of toji's ear.
"there you are," toji says, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. you latch on gratefully, suckling at the thick column of his throat. "my pretty, mindless baby— better than a fucking machine, yeah, yeah, just like that— fucking me so good, getting me all hot, so fucking hot—"
wet heat bursts between you, but you barely notice, too focused on the delicious, grinding pressure.
"baby—" toji's voice filters into your ears as if from a great distance. "baby, fuck, i can't think, you're fucking me stupid— ooh—"
another burst of heat, more tantalizing wetness. you whimper, burying your face in his neck and grinding harder. you're so close— so close— you can practically taste it.
"fuck!" if you were any more lucid, you'd describe toji's outburst as a sob. "'s sensitive, baby, hitting my prostate just right, god— god, so good, so good, my perfect baby—"
he's feeling good, you realize, the observation creeping up on you slowly through the fog in your brain. satisfaction curls in your stomach. your tongue feels thick in your mouth. "i— i'm good?"
"yeah, yeah—" the desperation in his voice is devastating. "just a little more, a little more, fuck me—"
you fuck back in, intent on making him cum, intent on hearing more of that thick, cloying desperation, but— but—
the base of your cock rubs against you just right, sparking a familiar, overwhelming storm of sensation. "no. no. not yet, please, not yet—"
"it's okay, baby. go ahead. cum for me."
it's useless to resist. your hips rut mindlessly, chasing your orgasm. you fall over the edge, sobbing, vision going white, as toji shakes and moans against you.
ecstasy runs rampant in your veins, sending you sky high. every nerve is a livewire, every muscle a bowstring drawn taut. you could stay here forever, frozen in bliss— throbbing, trembling, feeling so, so good with toji— for toji.
lucidity comes back to you in warm, grounding strokes. wide palms sweep over your back, gentle, gentle.
"welcome back." toji's voice, too, is warm, gentle. you soak it up, a happy plant in sunlight. "that was a good one, wasn't it?"
"so good," you sigh, nuzzling against his chest. "what about...?"
your heart drops in your chest as more memories come trickling in. he'd been just about to cum, too, and— and you had just gone off by yourself.
"what about what, honey?"
"you didn't cum?" you blink at him, a fresh wave of tears welling up in your lash line. "did i— did i cum without you?"
"huh?" he tilts his head— an unfairly endearing look for a man so big. a huff of laughter. "oh, you were out of it, huh? i came, sweetheart," he soothes. "a few times, actually. i think you just might not have noticed."
you blink at him again, perplexed. how could you not have noticed?
to your shock, white spatters across his tummy, smearing over your skin where you were pressed together. thick, creamy drops collect in his treasure trail. entranced, you drag a finger through the evidence of his pleasure and lift it to your mouth, letting out a happy little hum at the taste. your lips purse as you struggle to keep your thoughts from floating away into the haze that has re-settled around you. how could you convince him to let you suck his cock?
"nuh uh. i know that look." faster than you can blink, you're flipped over onto your back, strap undone and tossed to the side. your legs rest over his shoulders, leaving you spread open and exposed to his hot, intense gaze. "give me some time to recover. i'll play with you for a bit, then i can cum again when i'm inside of you. does that sound good?"
mind still floating in that soft, happy place, you find yourself nodding. there's a word you could say to end all of this—'yellow' would earn you his cock in your mouth one last time before a long night of clean-up and cuddling, but you'd rather die than end the night without his cum stuffed deep inside. "mhm. love you, toji."
he softens, almost imperceptibly.
"i love you, too. let me reward you, baby," he murmurs, turning his head to let his lips brush over your ankle. "i'll show you just how much daddy liked getting fucked."
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tags: @enchantedforest-network @yutaleks @stellamancer @izvmimi @mydiluc @dearbraus
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berryhobii · 9 months
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7 Different Sheets (BTS OT7 x Reader)
Pairing: NonIdol!BTS x black!female reader
Word Count: 3,897
Warnings: Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), multiple partners, unprotected s*x(please be safe and speak with your partners before doing this), public s*x, spanking, oral(m and f receiving), doggy style, missionary, riding, mentions of a mating press, reader does a split on someone’s 🍆🫣, intimate s*x, car s*x, múltiple orgasms(m and f receiving), mentions of STD testing, mentions of being arrested, weed smoking(reader is alluded to have smoked but it’s not explicitly mentioned), overstimulation, praise, degradation, choking, gagging, panty in mouth stuffing, restraints(wrists), mentions of a break up, i also might have gotten the tiniest bit carried away with Namjoon’s part hehe, he definitely has me in a chokehold
A/N: Hi there! I’m here with my take on Seven by Jungkook ft Latto! I’m pretty sure someone requested something like this but now I can’t find the ask so hopefully they see this! I decided to include all of the boys in this. I absolutely love Latto and her verse in the song was just so good! And how could I not write gratuitous fuck buddy smut? I’m always open to criticism and please feel free to tell me what you think. Thanks so much. Stay safe💜
~
You had 7 fuck buddies.
Each of them were entirely different. Different jobs, different styles, different ways they liked to fuck you.
Just how did you fit all of them into your schedule?
Mondays were for Jimin.
You met him while out shopping with your friends. He worked at a luxury jewelry store. While your friends were busy staring at different charm bracelets, your eyes were focused on the rings on his hands—the way he twisted them whenever he was waiting for a customer to make a decision, how they glimmered under the bright lights, and especially how they’d look wrapped around your throat. Would they leave marks? Would he finger you with them on? Would your ass sting whenever he laid a harsh smack on it? So many thoughts yet so little answers.
“Does that feel good, my pretty slut?”
No words were in your head, your mouth stuffed with the panties he had ripped off of you. All you could get out were muffled moans and muffled calls of his name. Salvia soaked the material as much as your arousal did when you walked in his job, the fabric heavy on your tongue and slightly choking you which gave you a rush.
A sharp slap landed on your ass, his rings adding a pleasurable burn that made your juicy walls hug him impossibly tighter.
“Fuck.” He groaned out, eyes never leaving how your ass clapped back on him, cock coated in your creamy release. Sweat dripped down your back making your dark skin look like the most decadent chocolate, glistening like the gems displayed in the case below you. But not even those could compare to you when you were bent over like this.
Your hand slammed down on the display case, the sturdy counter shaking under the force.
Your walls spasmed around him, signaling your 5th orgasm since you came to visit him on his break.
His hand that wasn’t holding your hip moved to wrap around your throat, hauling your body up until you were arched. You felt unstable on your feet but Jimin was your rock, holding you up before your knees could give out of you.
He applied medium pressure to your throat, just barely pressing into your windpipe, stealing some of your already sparse oxygen from you. You felt dizzy like you were on a rollercoaster but one that never went down. Only up. And it was climbing and climbing until….
“This neck would look so pretty with a new necklace on it. Don’t you agree?” That low tone was enough to hurdle you right off the edge, eyes rolling back as you shook like a leaf in his hold.
And yes, your neck did look pretty in a new necklace.
~
Tuesdays were for Seokjin.
You met him at a wedding. Your “date” had gotten a little too friendly with the open bar which immediately turned you off. Not that you were that turned on to begin with. The man was nothing to write home about. Just someone who happened to approach you in a coffee shop.
After successfully detaching yourself from him, you were getting ready to leave before you caught the eye of Seokjin. He was tall and broad with a face you’d love to sit on. Respectfully, of course.
Conversation flowed easily between you two. He was a proper gentleman with a goofy laugh that made you smile. He was definitely the type of person your parents would love for you to bring home. Polite and respectful and not bad on the eyes either.
But that gentleman act went out of the window when he got you in his bed.
“Jin! I can’t take it!” You screamed, yanking at the restraints on your wrists that were keeping you stationary. You were surprised you hadn’t broken his headboard from how hard you were jerking. His neighbors were probably tired of the slamming against the wall by now, their own calls for you two to pipe down died down a while ago. Let them call the police. You’d be damned if they put you in cuffs before you got Seokjin’s cock inside of you.
He was nestled between your legs, holding your thighs back to have more access to your cunt. His tongue never stopped its assault on your clit, abusing the bud until your entire body was shaking. Your legs would jerk to try and close with every lick but one firm look from him quickly put you in your place.
His plush lips were soaked with your juices, dark eyes staring at you as if you had just personified from his dreams. You might as well have.
“Your pussy tastes so fucking good. I could eat it all day.” It sure felt like he has been. Your pussy felt both numb and electric at the same time. Sensitivity wanted to push him away but a desperate part of you was pushing you towards another orgasm. “You’ll be a good girl and give me another one, won’t you? You’re always my good girl.”
Fuck yes you were. Fat tears rolled down your face when he dove back in, sucking your clit in between his lips, his tongue flicking over it faster than before. Back arching, you screamed bloody murder as the strongest orgasm of the night engulfed your body.
Placing one more kiss on your throbbing bud, Seokjin backed up to let you breathe, stroking your thighs and whispering sweet nothings to you as you came down. Body still tingling from your release, you could barely blink through your blurry vision before you felt a shift on the bed.
A hand nestled in your sweaty hair, silk press gone to waste. You blinked through your tears, looking up to find Seokjin hovering over you, his knees on either side of your shoulders. His cock stiff and right in your face, the tip leaking precum.
He smirked down at you.
“Open wide, darling.”
~
Wednesdays were dedicated to Hoseok.
Honestly, you met Hoseok on a dating app. He was meant to be a quick one night stand since you were growing tired of your vibrator. After scrolling through a bunch of profiles and responding to a few messages, you came across him. He was a paralegal but apparently, he taught dance classes on the weekends which told you he definitely knew how to move. His photos were a sharp contrast to his job; bright and with him always smiling. He even had a picture of his dog on there which made you smile.
He was cute though and perhaps he’d be a fun night.
The pillow did barely anything to cover your screams, not when there was so much happening at once. You tossed it to the side, allowing your eyes to adjust to the glorious sight above you.
Hoseok’s head was tossed back in ecstasy, lip pulled between his teeth as he needlessly tried to keep quiet. You wanted to hear those noises, the way he cursed whenever you purposefully clenched around him.
“Hmpf, shit.” Just like that.
The pulses of the vibrator in your hand was making your arm numb but it was sending the most delicious vibes through your clit so whatever.
“Hobi…..”You called making him finally open his eyes and tilt his head forward to look down at you. You could have cum right there from how sexy he looked—sweat soaked hair sticking to his forehead, his chest littered in love bites you had obsessively sucked into his skin, and of course, the thin silver chain around his throat that bounced with every thrust. Take the wheel, Carrie Underwood.
He leaned forward, both of his hands moving from your thighs to place next to your head. His hips never faltered, keeping their languid pace rolling into you.
“Yes? What is it?”
“I…..I….can I cum?” Everything was moving so slowly. He had put the vibrator on its lowest setting so it wasn’t doing much for you and with this slow pace, he was prolonging your orgasm further than you wanted it to be. That was the thing about Hoseok. He liked it slow and intimate, going for hours until he brought both of you over the edge.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, his chain tickling your nose.
“Not yet, my flower. Hold it a little longer for me.”
A particularly deep roll of his hips caused him to stroke slowly past your sweet spot, pulling a whimper from you.
Your bottom lip quivered, eyes tearing up from your waning orgasm. It kept building and falling but it wasn’t enough to push you over. And with everything that happened today, you think this is exactly what you needed.
A gentle touch.
“But….”
He shushed you with a peck to your lips. “Just relax. I’ll take care of you.”
~
Thursday’s were for Namjoon.
You met him at the gym. Don’t get it twisted. You weren’t really there to work out. Those few squats you did every couple of months were enough. That wasn’t the reason you had signed up for a membership.
It was because of the buff and drop dead sexy man that you often saw lifting weights. What exactly was the point of that tank top? Modesty? It looked like it was only soaking up the sweat that dripped down his honey kissed skin but it was failing at that too. Your tongue could do a better job. You’d lick every inch of that man for free and cook him a meal afterwards.
The steam of the shower was making it hard to breathe but Namjoon’s cock was making it even harder. When people told you to breathe through your nose, they factored out the cock being an absolute monster. You thought your jaw was gonna snap off.
Your nails dug into his yummy thighs, feeling the muscles tightened with every push of his cock into your warm and inviting mouth. You were definitely riding these things once you got back to his place.
“Damn, relax your throat, love.”
You happily followed his instructions, swallowing before exhaling through your nose. That allowed him to slide all the way home, your nose tickling the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Your eyes watered from the welcomed intrusion.
“Look at me.” He commanded from above you, the low tone of his voice making your pussy clench. Damn. Being a housewife sounded incredibly good right now. Patriarchy be praised.
Your eyelashes fluttered, looking at him and the sight was absolutely glorious. If he didn’t fuck you right now, you’d probably implode.
He must have seen that through your gaze because a dopey smile stretched across his face, adorable dimples indenting his cheeks.
Pulling out of your throat, you coughed and sputtered, swallowing a few times to soothe your sore throat. You barely had time to really cover before he was grabbing your arm and hauling you up. Legs draped over his buff arms, your arms scrambled to wrap around his shoulders. Now this position was the reason why bitches pull up to your mother’s house looking for you. You could feel the head of his cock sliding against your sopping cunt, your walls clenching in delight of finally getting what you want.
“Ready, baby?” He whispered in your ear before sucking on your lobe.
And no, you didn’t renew your gym membership.
~
Fridays were for Taehyung.
Funny enough, you met Taehyung while he was sneaking out of your apartment building. He was leaving a one night stand’s place and bumped into you while you were on your way inside. Of course, you could smell sex a mile away and the walk of shame was heavy on his shoulders. He actually tried hitting on you when he saw you, his eyes never leaving your cleavage.
You thought he was incredibly handsome though—a pretty boy type which you definitely liked. So you stopped him, told him to come back to you with a clean STD test and then you’d talk.
Taehyung had to will himself not to cum when you did a full split on his cock. Your hands kept your leverage on his knees, your head lolled forward from how his long cock was kissing your cervix each time, your legs stretched all the way out to give him the best view of his life.
He’s already cum twice, third orgasm almost painful but he just couldn’t stop. He didn’t want you to stop either(as if you could). You’ve been horny all day and you were going to get your fill of his cock. He knew you needed morning sex to get through the day yet he decided to go in for a shift at work, leaving you sad and desperate. The moment he walked in the door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt, pushing him on the rug in your living room. You didn’t even prep yourself and he was hard while driving to your place anyway so foreplay was unnecessary today. Maybe you’d ride his face later and you’d use that headband he was wearing as reigns.
Until then, you were going to ride his dick until he gave out. Or until you got tired, whichever came first.
“I’m gonna cum again. Slow down. Please.” He whimpered, eyes stinging with unshed tears.
You whipped your hair behind you, the tips of your braids resting on his stomach. “Hmmm, give it to me, Tae. Fill me up again.” You leaned forward, bringing your hips all the way up to his tip before slamming back down. His cock was creamy with both of your releases, a wet smack sounding everytime you came down.
If this was how he died, put it on his tombstone.
“Oh shiiiiiiii….”His head thumped back against the floor, toes curling as you forced another orgasm out of him, the pulsing of his cock triggering your own.
You barely gave him time to calm down before you started your pace again.
He’d pick up another shift next Friday.
~
Saturdays were for Yoongi.
It was actually your favorite day of the week when you got to see the weed dealer. Not really because he let you smoke for free but because high sex was just another level. You met him when you were out one night. He catcalled you from his car and before you could even give whoever it was a piece of your mind, your voice got caught in your throat.
Your first thought was: man bun. Long hair in a man bun. Sexy ass drug dealer in a BMW with long hair in a man bun. Your parents always told you not to do drugs but how could you heed those warnings when temptation was served to you on a silver platter like that?
You gripped the headrest of the backseat, your breasts currently under attack by Yoongi’s expert tongue. The same tongue that had just ate you out like a champion a few minutes ago.
He pulled off your breast with a pop, delivering a smack to your ass with the hand that wasn’t holding his blunt. “Faster. I didn’t tell you to slow down.” His cat like eyes were hooded and glazed over from both the weed and the feeling of your tight walls hugging his cock. For a second, he didn’t even think he was high on weed—he was high on you. You were like an addiction; savory and hard to avoid, you were like a forbidden fruit. One he’d sink his teeth into everytime.
He brought his blunt back to his lips, inhaling a deep pull, holding the smoke in before blowing it back into your face. Just that action had you cumming on his cock, the feeling vibrating all the way to your toes. When he felt a splash against his pelvis, he dropped his head to look down at where you were connected. You were still bouncing on his cock, prolonging your orgasm and with each bounce, a small spray of liquid squirted from you.
He tossed his own head back, making sure to put his blunt in the ashtray on the door to prevent any burns to his upholstery before grabbing both of your ass cheeks in his hands and beginning to piston up into your spasming cunt.
“Bout to fill this pussy up. You want it?” He grunted against your collarbone, sinking his teeth into the skin there.
He had knocked all of your words loose so all you could manage was a frantic nod of your head and a drawn out, “yessssss yessssss pleaseeeeee”.
“This pussy is so fucking good.” He landed a slap on your ass, the sting sending shocks of pleasure up your back as another orgasm crashed into you.
You were so absorbed that you didn’t even hear the police sirens as they pulled up next to you.
Wow. You thought you were just imagining the car rocking. Guess not.
~
The end of the week meant only one thing.
You had deep cleaned your apartment, moving slowly since your body still ached a little from sleeping on that bench at the station. Good thing Yoongi had connections that could bail both of you out. Still, you’d probably risk it again if it meant getting fucked like that.
You had just lit a candle and you were about to sit down to have a glass of wine but you were interrupted by the sound of your doorbell ringing.
“Ughhhhhh.” You groaned, placing your wine glass on a coaster before hauling yourself up less than gracefully and shuffling to the door. You didn’t even look at the screen on your intercom, just opening it and immediately trying to close it back after seeing who was on the other side.
A foot jammed itself between the door, stopping you from shutting it completely.
“Baby, come on. I said I’m sorry.”
“Screw you, Jeon! I told you I don’t want to see you again.”
He managed to push the door enough to slip his upper body through. The sight of his face sent a weird rush through you but you didn’t know if it was good or bad. You didn’t like it.
His doe eyes pleaded at you. “Please talk to me. I can’t stand not being with you anymore. Please please. I’m sorry.” He sounded so genuine that it made you break, heartstrings effectively tugged on and strummed by the only man you truly loved.
You shouldn’t let him in. You really shouldn’t.
“Oh. My. God. J-Jungkook!”
His hand whizzed through the air, landing a hard smack on your bruised ass that has taken a lot of punishment tonight.
“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to hear a word from you, you little whore.” He spit into your ear, hand coming up to cover your mouth while the other one held your hip to keep you in place as he delivered the deadliest back shots.
Your entire body was lit up in pain and pleasure, both mixing together in a beautiful cacophony that had you ready to propose to him.
Your moans were muffled by his large hand, his grip forcing your head back at an uncomfortable angle but he could give less of a damn about your comfort.
“How dare you let someone else fuck what’s mine?” He uncovered your mouth to slap your ass again in a tender spot causing you to jump, a high pitched scream coming from you as he pushed you into another orgasm. You had lost count a while ago, brain not keeping up with your body. Everything just felt endless.
You didn’t want him to know you were fucking other people. It wasn’t any of his business. You weren’t together anymore but am accidental slip up revealed what happened yesterday and in seconds, you were bent over the arm of your couch with Jungkook behind you.
“Count.”
He had made it to 21 before your knees were buckling, your eyes and mouth begging him to fuck you. To put you in your place and make you remember exactly who you belonged to.
He gripped at your hair, yanking your head back and making your body arch even more. Only your fingertips touched the bed below you, knees spread wide as you began throwing yourself back on his thick cock.
“I expect an answer when I ask you something, slut.” Contradictory since he told you to shut up earlier but logic was not necessary here. You were just a pliant little doll in service to the hunk of a man that was abusing your walls so good that your pussy should file a restraining order.
“N-no….I’m…ah! Fuck! S-sorry…..oh shit, I’m cumming!”
“That’s right. You come on my cock and my cock only. Do you fucking understand me?” He could feel his own orgasm building. He’s been holding back, a hard task with a pussy like yours but he managed. Denying all of your orgasms earlier made it easy enough for him. Then again, he did almost blow his load earlier when you put both of your feet behind your ears and held out your tongue for him to spit in your mouth.
He was an idiot for letting you go.
“I said, Do.” Smack! “You.” Smack. “Understand.” Smack. “Me?”
“YES!!! Oh shit!” Your walls clenched around him so tightly that it forced him out of your cunt, a long spray of liquid soaking the bedsheets beneath you. He brought his hand between your legs to rub furiously at your clit, splashing your juices everywhere. You’d definitely be upset later about your freshly washed sheets but he’d cross that bridge when he got there.
Your body jerked around as pure bliss and pleasure coursed through your veins, legs squirming all around as you both tried to chase and run away from Jungkook’s assault on your clit. He held your hip firmly, trying to keep you still while you rode out the waves of your orgasm.
When overstimulation began to get too painful, you turned over onto your side, pushing his hand away with your own. You twitched in the aftershocks, covering your cunt with your hands. Even the cool air was too much against your abused pussy. You’d probably have to take a break for the week just to recuperate.
When the haze began to clear a little, you slowly turned your head, peeking through your braids that covered your face to peek at Jungkook. Only to find him missing. You didn’t even hear him get out of the bed. Where did he go?
You waited a few moments, trying to catch your breath before Jungkook entered the room with a bottle of water. He was still fully naked, cock hard and angry looking, shiny with your juices.
He came over to the bed, placing a knee beside you to lean over your twitching body.
“Here. Drink some water. You need to be hydrated before I make you squirt again like that.”
Your eyes almost popped out of your head. Again? Was he trying to kill you?
“W-again?”
His lips quirked up into his signature grin, nose scrunching cutely and it made you want to punch him in it and then kiss it better.
“You think that was it? We’re just getting started. This will teach you not to give out what’s mine.”
It didn’t teach you anything though. You’d have to learn your lesson again next week.
And he’d teach you faithfully every Sunday.
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hellishjoel · 9 months
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blue collar man
4.1k /  joel miller x f!reader
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Summary: Your boyfriend Joel is up to his ears busy with his contracting business. Tired and sore, he comes home to learn you’ve made the rest of the night all about him. 
Warnings/Information/Heads-Up: Fluff, mentions of sex (but no actual sex), mentioned age difference, fluffy fluff fluff because blue collar man Joel Miller deserves it! He’s running a biz-ness! 
A/N: based on this lovely request! I hope I could bring your request to life, I breezed through it so fast because I love him, he’s baby. 
“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him.  “Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold. 
Joel had found a lot of success with Miller Contracting over the summer months. Business was booming and his early mornings until late nights were dedicated to working on multiple projects to get things done on time for his clients. Joel worked on referrals mostly, so when he finished a client’s remodeled hill country home in late winter, the client had raved over Joel’s professionalism and hard work to their friends and now he had a list of upcoming projects. 
Truthfully, you didn’t know much about contractors until you started dating Joel. You quickly began to understand the vastness of his duties. One day he could be working on home renovation projects where he was doing demolition like removing the walls or floors, electrical and plumbing work, flooring installation, even down to the last coat of paint. 
Other opportunities were commercial like on a small office building downtown where he did site preparation, set the foundation, worked on the beams and columns, all the way up to finishing the roof. Whatever he couldn’t do himself that was a bit more specialized, he hired subcontractors to work on like heating, ventilation, and air conditioning. 
What he hated the most was landscaping projects. He’d have to do the design layout of a large backyard garden and plant trees and flowers or work on seeding grass if it was a particularly hot Texas summer. Then he would add irrigation systems like sprinklers, pathways for people to walk on, pergolas for outdoor hosting, finishing it off with pretty and unique outdoor light fixtures. God forbid the client wanted a pond. 
“Do you know how annoying koi fish are? They just… stare at ya while you’re tryin’ to work.”
You had grown to love the handy man that Joel was. Before you were moved in to his place, your shitty little apartment needed so much love that your asshole landlord never took the time to come and fix. But Joel would. That was his form of romance. He didn’t bring you flowers or chocolates on the first dates. Joel was replacing your leaky shower head and tightening your jiggly door knobs. He also managed to match the paint color on your walls so he could cover up the scrapes he made after he railed you into your mattress so hard that the frame made a few chips. 
You were so happy to see his business getting the high recognition it deserved, however, Joel was taking quite the beating from it. You could tell by the way he slinked back into the house at the end of the night, his frame hunched over and walking with a slight limp. 
He was sore, muscles aching and knees screaming at him. His joints were swollen by the end of the day and his sweaty, sticky skin ached for a refreshing shower. 
The hardest part was always trying to shut off his mind when he got home. He was already thinking about the next day. What didn’t get done on time, what shipments of supplies were expected, how the delays would set the project back. He needed a break. 
“Can’t take time off right now, baby. I’ve got deadlines to meet.”
There was this one specific project that was giving him hell. He called it the Astor because it was on Astor street. Every night this week he had come home beyond late because of the problems with the Astor. First it was that the project was exceeding the client’s budget, so they were giving him grief about that. Then it was labor shortage stuff, not being able to get people out there which then in turn caused timeline delays. With the client out of the country most of the time, Joel was receiving little to no communication from the owner. He was fighting permit and regulatory issues with the city, every day it was something new that caused a headache behind his eyes. 
His dedication was admirable, but you knew that him being so physically and mentally clouded wasn’t good for him or for Miller Contracting. 
You didn’t know shit about contracting, but you did know Joel. 
You had texted him earlier in the day to drop whatever he was working on no later than 5 o’clock in the evening. You never did that, never told him to leave work early. But the last thing he wanted was for him to come home and have you upset with him. That was worse than any project issue. 
Tonight would be about Joel. Anything you could do to make the stress melt away, you would try. 
Joel pushed open the front door once home, a heavy sigh leaving him as he closed the door back in place and set his lunch box and keys down on the entry table. 
“Joel?” Your voice echoed from the kitchen. 
“Hi, baby.” His voice was low from the lack of energy.
Joel slowly moved down on one knee, a heavy breath exiting through clench teeth as his kneecaps throbbed while he untied one boot, then the other. They were covered in dust even down to the creases, steel toe covers making his feet sore. 
“Hey, how was your day?” You asked as you grabbed a dish towel to wipe your hands with before tossing it on the counter, greeting him halfway as he made his way through the living room. 
You were up on your tippy toes for a kiss, not wanting him to have to bend over and exert himself. He hated when you treated him like an old man, but with this job, you always teased him that it was coming sooner rather than later. 
He kept his hands to himself, knowing they were a bit greasy and sweaty. His overgrown beard hairs tickled your face as you peppered him with a few extra kisses, one of his eyebrows playfully raising. 
“Was fine. Did you see what I texted you?” He asked as he looked down at you, watching as your fingers grabbed the hem of his shirt, helping lift it off his head. 
“Mhm. The HVAC guys didn’t show up until noon even though you scheduled them for nine in the morning. Did you see I texted you back? Five hours ago.” Your teasing tone made him crack a smile. 
Joel was bad at texting. Typical guy thing, typical older guy thing. He said he wouldn’t even have a phone if it wasn’t for work and if Sarah didn’t insist on how texting was the new way of communication. Even though you texted him ten minutes after his initial one, his phone was already back in his pocket and he had long forgotten about your conversation as he returned to his work day. 
His response came out in a chortle, a heavy breath through his nose since he was too tired to chuckle. 
“Sorry, baby. Just wanted to complain, I guess.” He said as he watched you fiddle with his Miller Contracting shirt that had a worn in hole by the neckline. He went to reach for it, wanting to toss it into the dirty clothes bin, but you were quick to hold it to your chest. 
“I’ve got it.” You said as you went to give him a soft kiss to the open plane of his chest, smiling at the salt and pepper chest hair he was sporting. It looked so good on him. You walked off to the bedroom and did it yourself, grabbing him a fresh shirt for the rest of the evening, a pair of boxers, and his worn dark plaid pajama pants he liked. 
Joel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. A heavenly smell was drawing him into the kitchen, his eyes lighting up at the sight before him. You had green beans in a frying pan and a gravy softly bubbling in a sauce pan. Then in a skillet was the most perfect looking chicken fried steak, the coating coming to the perfect crisp. He pulled the oven handle open just an inch to see golden biscuits rising. 
“I put clean clothes on the counter in the bathroom, go shower, handsome.” You said before returning to the kitchen, frowning as he found his dinner before you had a chance to plate it. 
“Joel.” You playfully scolded, pinching at his hip. “You’re ruining your own surprise.” You teased as you shooed him out of the kitchen, hearing an audible grumble in his stomach. It made you sport a proud grin. It was his favorite meal, said it reminded him of his mom’s cooking growing up with Tommy. 
“I’m making mashed potatoes, too.” You said as you drained the water the potatoes were soaking in, putting them in a new bowl and getting out some milk and butter. 
“You’re makin’ me hungry.” He hummed with a small, tired smile as his hands came up loosely on your hips. 
His hands on you instantly made you grin, gently shaking your head at him as his head came to rest by your own. 
“You’re distractin’ me.” His low voice carrying the weight of his day. 
“No, you’re distracting me.” You made clear as your elbow playfully dug into the core of his stomach. 
“Go shower, please. You smell like drywall dust… and paint.” 
He rolled his eyes with his smile still lingering. 
“Yeah, okay. Thank you.” He said as his lips dropped down to place a sweet kiss of sincerity at the base of your neck, a shiver rolling up you as you let out a huff and returned your focus to your five-star meal. 
You heard the water hit against the shower wall and his small radio crackled to life, finalizing the last touches to Joel’s favorite dinner. 
Joel came back to the living room in the clothes you had set out for him, his hair slicked back wet from his shower. God, he looked so good. 
“Here.” You handed him his plate, seeing his lips part in excitement. His stomach let out an audible rumble. He probably didn’t have a spare minute to eat his lunch today, poor thing. 
The two of you settled on the couch, Joel expecting you to turn on one of your shows since a new episode came out today. 
“Do you uhm.. Maybe wanna watch one of those movies where they’re flying the jet planes? You said you wanted to show me it a while ago.” You offered, glancing over to see him already inhaling his food with the fork scraping across the plate to not let a single bit of gravy escape him. But your offer made him pause. 
“You wanna watch Top Gun? You hate Tom Cruise.”
“Well, yeah, he seems kind of like a douchebag, but it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed on you as he thought about your offer but ultimately shook his head, shrugged, and kept eating. 
“‘t’s fine, you can put somethin’ on.” He said as he stabbed a green bean, smeared some mashed potatoes on it before putting it past his lips. 
You took a deep breath and issued him the remote control. 
“You pick something tonight, honey. It’s your night.” 
That caught Joel’s attention. His head whipped a little to fast towards you, his thick eyebrows furling at the concept. 
“‘t’s not my night. It’s a Thursday.” 
The look you gave him set him straight. 
“Okay, okay.. It’s my night.” He declared in playful defense, taking in a deep breath through his nose and opted for some old Western show he liked. You didn’t care much for it, but Joel did. 
Once you two finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table and discarded, your head was on his shoudler and your hand ran slow, soothing circles over his chest. You could feel him breathing deeply, relaxing with you. 
You asked him questions about the main characters, showing genuine interest. Even going as far as to add a dramatic gasp when a shot was fired from a cowboy’s revolver which made him let out a hearty laugh. 
“You’re so full of it.” 
He was talking with a huge grin, you could hear it in how he spoke, and it warmed your heart. 
Towards the end of your night, your hands were in yellow dish gloves as you washed your plates from dinner, sliding the clean ones between the dividers of your drying rack. 
Joel slipped his strong arms low around your waist, his burly shoulders pressing into your own as you nearly toppled over with his presence
“Thanks for dinner tonight. Hit the spot.” He said as he kissed your cheek then on a spot where your jawline met your neck, right by your ear. His beard hairs tickled. You could feel that they were freshly trimmed now, he probably felt a lot better.  
“Night’s not over yet.” You hummed, a playful smile on your lips that he was quick to take notice of. 
“Oh?” His voice dropped an octave, rolling your eyes a bit as you dug your elbow into his stomach for the second time tonight to put some space between you. 
“Okay, cowboy. Relax. How about you go to the bedroom and take your shirt off. I’ll be there in a sec.” Your choice of words were still leading him in a different direction, you almost felt bad. But it was funny watching him get worked up. 
After finishing the dishes and blowing out the eucalyptus scented candles, you peaked into your bedroom. Joel was still cautiously removing his shirt, moving slow as to not disturb his aching muscles. You hated seeing him come home every night like this, as if his body had just been in a fight and taken a brutal beating.
Joel undid the clasp of his watch, the band and watch face dirty and making digging a  bruise into his wrist, but it told the time. He felt better after his shower, having made it a steamy one to relax the stinging in his upper neck and shoulders as well as his lower back. 
His belly was good and full, happy to have something homemade rather than a quick pizza in the oven or just a cold bottle of beer before bed.  
You were taking care of him tonight. Not that you didn’t every other night. He was actually giving you the time to take proper care of him. It felt off at first, taking on all the attention he usually reserved for you after long days. But maybe it’s what he needed. 
His head turned as he felt a warm pair of arms circle just above his plaid pajama pants, your soft fingers undoing the knot he had tied in the front of them. 
“I would’a taken my pants off for ya if you’d just ask.” His tone taunting, stepping out of the soft material before spinning in your arms and attempting to scoop you into him. 
“Lay back, goofball.” You said with that gleaming smile of yours. Made his stomach twist. Whatever you had planned, you obviously wanted the lead on. 
He did as instructed, happily falling into the comfort of the mattress with ease. 
“Close your eyes, please.” Your voice was sweet like honey. He’d follow it into the shadows, into hell, more likely into heaven since it’s where Joel thought you belonged. 
He could already fall asleep, though it was no later than eight. He felt the bed dip first at his legs, your body shifting up to sit by his hip. His hand naturally felt out for you, his warm palm holding you at the curve of your lower back. 
When Joel was given the okay to open his eyes again, he was surprised to see a few candles lit around the room, the golden glow adding a bit of ambiance. 
He watched as you squirted a few pumps of a lotion in your hands, circling it up in your palms to make it a little warm before you started to lather it into his calves. 
The sensation made his breath hitch. You were giving him a massage? He sat up on his elbows and watched the white-ish cream get all wrapped up in his dark leg hair. 
“Darlin’-”
“Shh.”
He tightened his lips, feeling a bit futile all of a sudden. There was a pause before he spoke again. 
“Don’t have to do this for me.” He insisted, his eyes on yours, but you were focused on adding subtle pressure to his calf muscles. 
“Know I don’t have to. I want to. Lay back down.” 
You wanted to. You wanted to take time out of your evening and bathe him in attention. You had cooked one of his favorite meals, and to perfection he might add. You also let him watch a show he wanted to watch, something he knew you didn’t have a taste for. But you were intrigued anyway, to show you cared. 
He was so comfortable and at ease, the problems of today didn’t seem to matter much anymore when you were here to greet him so lovingly. 
Your fingers kneaded gently into his skin, Joel’s eyes dipping closed as he began to sink deeper into the mattress. Of course he couldn’t just do nothing. He had his warm palm splayed on your back where the shirt you were wearing was riding up a little bit. You smiled at the gesture. No matter how much effort you tried to dedicate to Joel, he was still showing his care even when he was dead exhausted. 
You worked the lotion up into his thighs, the slight tug on his hairs making his face crinkle a little. You dared not to get too high, again, not to give him the wrong idea of where the massage was heading. It was okay to be just attentive to his needs for tonight. You could relax him in other more sensual ways another time. He needed something a little deeper.
You leaned down and peppered sweet kisses up his torso and over those salt and pepper chest hairs you admire so much, stopping just at his lips with a small smile. 
“So handsome.” You praised in a whisper, kissing him with a grin on your lips.
He hummed softly and moved his hand to gently cup the back of your head, keeping your kind presence in his proximity just a moment longer. 
“I’m getting too old for you.” He whispered back in a teasing tone, making you bubble up a laugh in your shared space. 
“You’ve always been too old for me.” Your thumb gently glided over his chin and admired a small white patch just at the base where his neck sloped down. “But I’ve never minded. Because you’re a good man. A hard working, blue collar man. It’s very sexy.” You teased with a smile, happy to see one blossom on his lips as well. 
“Thanks for treatin’ me so good tonight. This week’s been…” he let the sentence die before shaking his head. 
“I know, Joel.” You said with a small nod before pressing a gentle kiss on his lips again before sitting up straight. 
“Wanna roll over and I’ll do your shoulders?” 
He let out a breathless laugh as he looked up at you. “Please.” Like you had to ask. 
He wasn’t used to this sort of treatment, but boy, maybe he should start asking for it. 
Joel moved to lay on his belly, letting out a short groan in the process that made your chest flutter. 
You let out a short huff before you straddled his back, topping yourself right on his butt after getting a short groan from Joel for being on his tailbone. 
More lotion was squirted into your hands before you started to apply it across the landscape of his back. 
“We should do a skincare night.” You said, feeling his body shudder at the cold lotion. 
“Uh what?” Joel’s voice muffled against the comforter, his head to one side so he could see you just out of his peripheral.
“You know what skincare is, you see me do it every night.” 
“I don’t know what the he-ll you’re talkin’ ‘bout.” He said, his words stuttering as you pushed particularly harder in his lower back. Jeez, it was knot after knot under your fingertips. 
“Ugh, Joel!” You whined as your motions paused. 
Joel had a habit of doing this. Declaring he had no idea what it was that you were talking about, making you tirelessly explain for several minutes, before he goes ‘Oh, why didn’t you just say that? I know what that is.” It made you roll your eyes each and every time. 
“You’re handsome, but you don’t listen.” You hummed out before cupping your hands at his shoulders and doing circles with good pressure, your upper body weight being put into his stern muscles. 
“All I heard you say is that I’m handsome.” He moaned into the sheets, a blush creeping on your cheeks at his comment, but also his heavenly moan. 
“It’s.. where you apply skincare to your face. You know, using a cleanser, applying an exfoliator, moisturizer..”
This was when Joel started muffling random nonsense into the sheets and you playfully pushed into his crying shoulders harder until he let out another long groan of discomfort. 
“Okay, okay, I know what you’re talkin’ about. Skincare. I don’t need it.” 
You tutted, shaking your head as you held in a laugh. 
“Everyone needs it. Every. One.” You said as you leaned down and kissed the back of his head where his curls were starting to form. 
“Especially you, Joel! Your pores are so big, you’ve got dust and dirt getting all in there. And it’s been so hot outside, your skin’s drying up. Gotta take care of your skin baby.”
“Why? So I’ll look young agian?” He teased as he reached a hand back and squeezed your hip as well as he could from his position. 
“Because it’s good for you. Makes me feel good after a really long day.”
You could feel his eyes on you, a throat hum leaving his lips. “Thought I made you feel good after a really long day.” 
A huff left your lips as you were back to doing circles into his shoulder with your thumbs. “Shut up.”
The last of the lotion had sunk into his skin, the massage hopefully healing more than just his dry skin. 
Night’s like this with Joel were rare, but exceptionally special. He had energy to talk to you about everything under the sun, something you didn’t expect to transpire with your age difference at first. You discussed your mutual plans for the weekend, a barbeque at Tommy’s house. Joel was insisting on you wearing your new bikini, green to match his beautiful eyes. He could be such a horn dog. 
He wanted to stay up as long as he could, but the long day he endured couldn’t help but put weight on his eyelids. His words turned to mumbles, his arms snaking around your waist in his silent gesture to fall asleep with you. 
You shook your head with a small, tired smile, your hands planting themselves on his forearms to put a stop to his motions.
“Turn around.” You whispered, the notion making his tired eyes pop open with a “huh?” leaving his parted lips. 
“You heard me, old man. Turn around.” You said as your hand roamed over his warm hip. 
Joel assumed you didn’t want to cuddle tonight, maybe he was too warm for your taste despite the fan running above the both of you. 
Joel’s chest tightened as he felt your warm body return right behind him, a bashful grin on his face. 
“Are you tryna big spoon me?” His southern accent was dripping heavier than usual with the tiredness stringed in it. 
The question erupted a giggle from you, Joel feeling you kiss over his taut shoulder blade. 
“I don’t know how well I can big spoon you.. You’re so long.” Your arm tightened around Joel’s waist anway, his big hand finding yours as your fingers interlocked. He felt grateful in this moment, albeit a bit shy about the position. He was used to being the big spoon, it was different for him to be on the receiving end. But it was warm and settling, he couldn’t deny that. 
“So I’m uh.. I’m like the ladle to your big spoon?” Joel asked. He could feel your grin on his back, your legs tangling with his own. 
“Yes… you’re the ladle, but even the ladle needs a big spoon.” Joel’s blinks slowed until his eyes were closed, heavy with sleep. 
“Thank you for today.” He murmured into the pillow. You barely hear it, but even if you didn’t, you feel it in the way he holds your hand and keeps your arm settled around him. 
“Thank you for everything you do, Joel.” You whispered back, your forehead on the top slope of his back as you take in the smell of his body wash combined with the lotion, his body falling slumped in your protective hold.
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tobifuyu · 4 months
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Snowflakes In My Stomach When We’re Kissin’
RAN HAITANI x f!reader
cw: nsfw, mdni, smut, fwb to lovers, oral (male reciving), tiny bit of angsty themes with happy ending, sappy fic, ran being a simp as always to feed my “he’s a self-centered bitch until he finds the one” agenda.
wc: 3.2k
a/n: surprise… i’m back with a christmas present! this is the first fic in a three pieces installment, which can all be read as standalone but come from the same universe and evolve in the span of three different christmases. in case you didn’t know, in japan christmas is a holiday in which people spend time with their partners because they reserve new year’s for family (not only i’ve seen it in a whole lot of shoujo anime but i’ve asked my japanese coworkers to confirm eheh). it’s also customary to eat cake! ;)
“Though you said you just wanted to get a coffee.”
The only thing peeking from the red scarf is the tip of his nose, flushed with the same color of the fabric that’s wrapped around his neck. You imagine his lips curved in a smirk under it.
When he came to pick you up earlier this morning, you thought he made a bold choice pairing the red garment with the unusual color of his hair. Up until then, you always believed red and purple would clash.
But Ran made it work, somehow. Like most things in his life, he did it with a confidence that made you question your world and how you view it even if for just a second.
“Well, that we did,” He shakes his hand, his long fingers easily supporting the weight of the full cup. You can see the steam rise from it and wonder if he’s not drinking it because he’s scared to burn his tongue or because he’s not ready to go home yet.
The two of you are currently walking around Shiba Park, not too far from Roppongi Hills. The peak of Tokyo Tower is hidden in plain sight behind the trees, stripped naked by the season, and adorned by strings of fairy lights.
In daylight they look clear, void of color, and empty, they come alive at night. Just like we both do, thinks Ran.
Ran does like winter. He believes winter poses more opportunities to forgo going out and staying in bed. He loves to gaze out of his apartment’s window and spot rain pit patting against the glass, watching the water droplets leave streaks behind as he lets himself get lulled back to sleep.
He also likes that he can layer more clothes, the more the merrier, he says, it’s easier to style it. You would agree, because he looks particularly elegant with his long black coat, left unbuttoned to glimpse at the nice sweater under it. The sight of his tightly clad body alone ignites a fire inside of you, one that is meek but insistent, and will soon start to burn you inside out.
What Ran doesn’t like it’s the cold. The wind is not fair against his pale skin, it leaves it red and stinging, much like his heart when he wakes up after a night together and doesn’t find you there. He does not like the cold, the cold of the sheets around him when you’ve left hours before.
He would like to pretend he’s clueless as to why, the same way you’re staring at him now, but he knows the reason behind it.
“Are you gonna tell me why we’re wandering around without a destination in freezing weather?
“Can’t you just live a little?”
You scoff at his words, taking another sip out of your hot chocolate to bite back an insult. He’s already testing your patience, and you have very little of it left today of all days.
“We should go eat some cake, I’d love an excuse to grab a Mont Blanc for later at that bakery by your apartment. Y’know I like it there.”
Cake. You don’t like cake, and you don’t like what eating cake with him would mean today of all days.
“Why do you have to make everything so complicated, Ran?” You sigh, head shaking in disappointment.
When you decided to start this with Ran, it was because you believed the man to be on the same wavelength as you. Ran had seemed like someone who knew what he wanted, and you had been sure that was not you.
He had promised that would stay the case. Your heart could not afford to be cared for by somebody.
When you look at him this time, you don’t notice how the wind is whipping the skin of his high cheeks red because his scarf is now covering everything but the lidded eyes staring at you.
At this rate Ran might end up hating winter: you seem to get colder with the season. He doesn’t think he would pick sleeping in over you, so if he could, he would like for summer to last all year long.
He’d like for you to cling to him even when the temperature is so high you can barely breathe in your cramped room, sweat sticking to both your skin and his, like your very first night together.
Because where the holidays bring glee to most, to you they’re a reminder of times that are long gone. A childhood spent decorating the tree and wishing for the perfect Christmas gift, now turned into a life of solitude. Your fast-paced job and lonely apartment away from home don’t leave space for the frivolity of Christmas.
“Didn’t wanna leave you alone,” he speaks so clearly of his intentions you almost feel shame, “Did ya think I would’ve left you bask in your gloominess, today? ‘M not that bad of an ass.”
You don’t think Ran owns you anything. He shouldn’t be picking up the pieces of you that other people left scattered and putting them back together as if it were a kids’ puzzle.
Ran knows you don’t really have anyone, he thinks he’s much like you, and would be just as bitter if he didn’t have his brother.
“You left Rin by himself?”
You hear his muffled laughter, “‘course not. Haruchiyo’s there. Y’know how they are.”
Yes. In love, you suppose. And you wonder if Ran thinks that is what it is. And what is it between you two?
You can feel his body warmth as he gravitates closer to you, “‘M cold,” is his excuse when his now ungloved hand catches yours. He intertwines your fingers, brushing the back of your hand with his thumb, before hiding them away in his coat pocket.
Gotta warm your cold heart up, he thinks.
“Saving you from this freezing weather,” is what he says out loud.
But you know it’s because the movement brings you closer, he pulls you so you’re now shoulder to shoulder, and you’re not strong enough to keep your head from falling on his. As if you were fresh snow in the sun, you melt in his presence.
“Let’s go get cake,” your voice is but a soft whisper, running past him like the breeze through the dying leaves, the wind finally settling down.
And that’s how he ends up in your apartment. Sounds of wet skin slapping against one another fill the void as he buries himself deep inside of you.
The sweet pastries Ran bought long forgotten over your kitchen counter, as he’d much rather taste the honeyed nectar spilling from between your thighs.
He’s grabbing at them now, the hold on your flesh sure to leave marks behind as he folds your legs so that he can loop his arms under your knees, keeping you spread open for him.
Big body caging you under his warmth with his forehead pressed against yours, and open mouths a breath away from the other, sharing sounds of pleasure without ever meeting in the middle.
It had been a tantalizing dance when you first started sleeping together. Like most people in your situation, you had both concluded that it would be best if you refrained from kissing. Deeming it too intimate.
Ran had caved after the third time you ended up in his bed, lips too needy to be kept from yours. He had let out a soft plead before you met him in the middle.
From then on you made it your mission to never kiss him outside of your bedroom activities, too scared of the power his kisses held over you. He and his annoying self had taken it as a challenge, always on the edge of his seat waiting to see who’d kiss the other first.
“Oh fuck this,” Ran groans before giving in.
You catch sight of his eyelids fluttering shut, hiding that violet color that you love so much, and your lips lock in a kiss that takes your breath as much as the hips still snapping against yours.
The coarse patch of hair on his navel repeatedly brushes against your puffed-up clit, making your hips jump up to chase the friction. The man is shamelessly shallowing your moans and caressing your tongue with his, teeth closing around your bottom lip when you go to pull away.
“Ngh, you taste like cake.”
Ran had snuck a bite of one of the pieces the moment he stepped out of the bakery, and the sweet taste on his tongue was, in your opinion, way better than the real deal.
His hand grasps your chin with firmness, the tips of his fingers squeezing your cheeks and making your blushed lips pucker up.
“So you do like cake, mh?”
“No, I don-“ Ran squeezes harder, and your mouth parts. A glob of spit falls on your tongue, one that you shallow under his scrutinizing gaze.
The moan that he lets out at that reverberates through your chest as he bends so close your bodies are now completely pressed against one another, sharing body heat.
This is what sex with Ran is, a concoction of rough touches and fucking that turn soft and slow when you least expect it. He likes to tease and surprise you, stealing the prettiest sounds from your lips and making them his. Making you his.
“Y’don’t like cake, s’okay. I know you like me,” one of his hands teasingly pinches your right nipple, respective eye closing in a wink.
You like that he makes sex fun, cracking jokes as if his cock weren’t pumping inside of you. You like it, you like him, but you can’t have him know that.
“That’s not-“ he interrupts you once again, this time with the snapping of his hips. He starts fucking you like he means it. Calculated thrusts hitting against the sweet spot only he knows how to find.
Ran is on his knees now, hands firmly planted on your raised hips, guiding you back and forth over his length.
“Fuck! Ran, fuck that feels good- so good-“
Slurred words leave your panting mouth as your hands hold onto the pillow behind your head for dear life, back arched and chest exposed to the greedy eyes that are raking over your body. From your perked-up nipples, begging to be played with, to the way your cunt is stretching around his cock.
“Don’t have enough hands for the things I wanna do to you,” Nonetheless, he repositions his right one so that it’s splayed over your navel, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles on your slicked clit.
“Fuckin’ cunt squeezing me so good,” moans spill from your mouth at his words, his voice is strained but maintains that hint of icy superiority and poise that is characteristic of Ran.
The way your hole flutters around him is maddening, Ran can feel your walls clenching against his length so perfectly. He can feel everything.
As a matter of fact, so do you. No matter how dumb he fucks you, you can’t ever miss out on the sweet feeling of his bare skin caressing your wet cunt. The squelching sounds are filling the air around you, making your cheeks heat up and your head lull to the side, trying to avoid his eyes in shame.
Half face buried in the pillow, you beg for him, “Ran, please, please. I need to cum so bad.”
His thrusts slow down, thumb stilling over your clit, and you hear him hum, pensive.
“Maybe if you looked at me, pretty, I might think about letting you.”
Gathering your remaining strength, you open your eyes to the sight of his glorious body above yours.
The wetness of his skin shines under the light of the outside street lamp, peeking in from the window, full body tattoo so enchanting, you watch it move and bend over his rising chest.
With violet eyes fixed on yours, he stands tall, unreachable.
The purple strands that fall from his gelled-back hairstyle are the only giveaway that he’s not so perfect and pristine after all, but he still looks like a god in your devoted eyes.
“Ran,” you call his name so softly he tumbles from the skies right to you.
His body bends to lay over yours, weight supported by his arms at your sides. With a snap of his hips, he breaks the longing stare you’re both sharing, mushroom tip hitting the spot that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.
“Oh my god, that feels so-“ “I know, baby, s’okay.” One of his hands caresses over your head, before stopping at your neck and closing around your windpipe. The pressure of his touch against your feverish skin is delicious.
Your nails are now creating indents in the flesh of his arms. You want more, you need him to break you.
Ran can’t stop thrusting, pounding, burying himself inside of you to the hilt. He’s never wanted to be this close to someone before, never needed their warmth as he does yours.
He stops you before you can reach your clit with your fingers and, wanting to be the one to take you over the edge, he uses his free hand to rub over it vehemently.
“Coming, I’m coming,” are the rushed words that fall from your lips before you hit your peak. Wanton moans are gracing Ran’s ears, making his balls strain from holding back, but he wants you to bask in the glow of your orgasm before he reaches his.
“Doin’ so well fo’ me, look at this pretty pussy. Gushing all over my cock.” He looks down as he says this, watching how good he’s splitting you open, his cock coming out of you covered with the white sheen of your arousal, then plunging back in.
Your spent body is overstimulated, twitching in his hold as if trying to run away from the pleasure.
“You’re the only one, baby.” Ran lets slip, the sight of you in your most vulnerable state makes him just as weak, “S’all yours, so take it.” And he means it, you’re the only one.
Before you, life used to be in black and white. Ran had tried everything to paint it some other color, from violence to sex, but nothing ever came close to holding you in his arms.
Color is always all around him, but Ran’s devoid of it until you touch him.
You pull him down to you at the confession, arms wrapped around his neck, chests pressed against one another, hard nipples tickling the soft skin.
The pace suddenly turns slow, and you wonder if Ran does not care about coming anymore. His focus is on you, and you’re staring back at him with just as much affection.
“Let me take care of you,” it’s what you suggest once you’ve come down from your high, fingers pressing against his shoulders to have him lay back in the sheets. Short hair sprawled over the white pillow like a halo behind his troubled head.
Both of your thighs are circling his hips, too scared to have Ran pull out, and be prevailed by that sense of emptiness and cold that comes from being away from him.
Fighting a whirlpool of emotions, you feel the need to silence your mind with his lips on yours. The clashing of your noses does nothing to stop you from kissing each other passionately.
The blame should be on Ran for making you fall for him and gifting you a brand new reason to celebrate Christmas, but you should’ve known better when he walked into your life with that snarky smirk that makes you sigh just thinking about it. You bite his lip in retaliation.
The feeling of Ran’s hands traveling over your skin and sinking with his strong grip on the flesh of your hips is what makes you separate your two halves, pussy clenching around the length that has been filling you up so perfectly. The need to make him feel just as good swells up on the inside.
“Fuck, please,” A choked whisper, falling from the pearlescent of his lips, wet with your love, blood pouring out of the bitten skin.
Purple and red do look good together, you think.
Your hands are warm, trailing up his stomach like the ink on his skin. He feels as if you’re moving too fast, scared he might blink and lose the moment, and at the same time too slow for his liking. He’s begging and he doesn’t know what he’s begging for. But you do.
Ran’s hands tighten around the bedsheets. He wants to touch everywhere you’ve been, wants to get stained in you. Like fresh paint that sticks on skin, he’s now colored in your shades.
Wet kisses are being left on the top of his shaft. Ran’s right hand finds your hair, waving his fingers between the loose strands to uncover the sight of your pretty face.
Lidded eyes are watching you glide your tongue down his hardness, caressing the bluish veins running across its sides, tasting yourself on it.
When your lips wrap around his sensitive tip you have to hold down his hips with both hands.
The peace you set is slow, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His girth stretches your lips and he thumbs the lower one as you look up at him with tears forming at your lashline.
“Mouth feels like fucking heaven, angel.”
Ran can barely contain himself, dangling from the edge, his balls heavy with his release.
When your nose is buried in the hair at the base of his cock, you know you’ve successfully taken him whole. A huge accomplishment on your part, considering how blessed he is.
With your throat clenching around him, it doesn’t take long to feel him twitch in your mouth.
“Yeah, pretty girl, just like that. Make me cum, fuck!”
Bobbing your head at his request, you’re hasty in sucking your checks around his length, letting him come on the back of your tongue with languid moans that contain your name.
No need for him to ask, you’re one step ahead by swallowing his semen, making a show of it before leaving a wet kiss on his tip, to collect the white drop that was spilling over.
“Better than any cake.”
Booming laughter fills the space around you as you scoot closer to his tired body, laying on his naked frame and stealing all his warmth.
“I do like you.”
“I know,” Ran looks down at you, left check cutely smushed against his pecs, “Let’s spend New Year’s together.”
The faint movement of your hair brushing his skin tells him you’re agreeing, “And what about… next year?”
“Let’s spend them all together.”
You’re warm in his hold, and he figures the fairy lights might’ve come on in the park.
Ran thinks back to the rest of the untouched cake on your kitchen counter and is happy enough that the two of you have exchanged Christmas gifts in your own special way.
After all, he took away the cold, and you’ve brightened up his life.
That’s more of what you could’ve wished for.
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moider-time · 1 year
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The Wayne family has many different New Years Eve traditions. With all those different people and personalities clashing in one spot, it's bound to happen.
You have Dick and his tradition of walking on his hands the entire day after one time when they were little, Jason said there was no way he could do it. The only time he's right side up is when he's eating. Alfred had to implement that rule after Dick accidentally knocked the roast chicken he had been working on for days, out of his hands. To this day, Dick quotes that as the scariest moment in his entire life.
Duke is a new addition to the Wayne Clan but with him he brings the tradition of karaoke. Him and his parents used to go out to a nice restaurant and then go to a karaoke club.
He mentions that offhandedly and then on New Years Eve, there was a brand new karaoke machine in the manor. No one can deny that he killed it when singing 'No Tears Left to Cry' by Ariana Grande. However, Tim butchered 'Mary On A Cross' so badly that Steph nearly sued him on behalf of Ghost. There is also a batkids version of 'Goodbye Yellow Brick Road' on Spotify.
Damian and Talia used to commemorate the new year but it was more of a 'Good job you survived the previous year, let's hope you'll survive this one' celebration. So he doesn't really have a tradition to bring to the family, but he is particularly clingy on New Years Eve.
He overheard Dick telling Cass about the Y2K bug and he doesn't believe it but to be forewarned is to be forearmed. If needing to protect his family means that he needs to be snuggled into Bruce's side, well then so be it. He's just being a dutiful son.
But Jason. Jason goes along with whatever everyone wants to do. He makes jokes. He snarks that he didn't even really want to come, it's just that he was in town with nothing better to do (seeing how he's basically glued to Bruce's hip kind of invalidates his point but no one says anything)
But every New Years Eve since his rebirth, Jason makes sure that he's sitting at his grave by the time the clock hits zero. He doesn't pray or cry or sing or anything like that, he just sits. And waits. And when the clock strikes for a new year, he places a flower at his grave and leaves.
No one knows if this is some form or mourning or repentance for what he did in the past year and asking gets them nowhere. They just know that it's something that he needs to do and they'll respect that. Alfred and Bruce will always be waiting to walk him back into the manor, with a coat and hot chocolate. And if it takes him a while to get back to himself, they're all willing to wait.
( pspspsps @bruciemilf )
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kingkatsuki · 1 year
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— when you want him to be your valentine
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Masterlist.
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! I hope you enjoy this one🥺💕
Warnings: A tiny bit angsty, not proofread.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.3k.
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Bakugou despised this time of year. The lull after Christmas was slowly going back to normal, the weather still offered a bitter chill that had him donning his winter costume even though the evenings became a little brighter, and the worst thing about all of it— Valentines Day.
It wasn’t enough that this gave the media an excuse to question him about his love life, like it was important anyway. He’s a Pro-Hero for fucks sake, it’s none of their damn business that he’s still single and hopelessly in love with you. But it also meant the fake consumer bullshit that came along with the holiday was staring him in the face anywhere he went. Shop fascias covered in a wild array of pinks and reds, embarrassingly big teddy bears placed in the windows, and tacky gifts everywhere he looked in Musutafu. Even arcades were following through on the hype— pink gifts sat in the crane games waiting to be won, figures of different Pro-Heroes painted a bright red in commemoration of the holiday— Although, Bakugou couldn’t deny he’d be trying to win that red All Might figure on one of his days off.
But the worst thing about Valentine’s Day? The thing he despised more than anything else.
Is the fact that you’ve made him want to celebrate it.
You made it into the office a little earlier today. Whether it was the nerves that had you waking up before your alarm, or the excitement of the holiday you weren’t sure. Waving at the security at the entrance of Dynamight’s Agency as you made your way towards the elevators.
You’d ended up going to bed in the early hours of the morning, spending your entire evening trying to make Bakugou some chocolates. You’d tried to follow the recipe you’d found online perfectly, but somehow you managed to decorate your kitchen in a mixture of cocoa and vanilla. Once you’d popped them out of the moulds you were nervous, a cheap store bought box sat in your living room ready to gift instead if things went badly. And maybe you’d bring those into the office too, in case your boss didn’t enjoy the ones you’d made. Testing one to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally kill the Number Two as you decided that they were good enough. You’d wanted them to be perfect, but maybe he’d like them anyway.
Both chocolates sat in your bag as you pressed the button to call the elevator down as you clung to the strap of your handbag.
“You think you can bring down some of Dynamight’s chocolate later?” He grinned as you shifted from foot to foot nervously.
“Uh— sure.” You smiled back, wondering if your handmade chocolate would even be good enough for the likes of your boss, probably nothing compared to some of the other gifts he’d inevitably receive today.
And you weren’t naive, you’d expected your boss to receive some chocolate or gifts today. He was the Number Two Hero after all— But what you hadn’t expected was the absolute avalanche of gifts the moment you stepped out of the lift.
Bakugou’s floor was covered in hues of pink and red, so much so you thought you’d stepped inside the local department store. Not only were there a huge array of chocolates— there were floral arrangements, teddy bears, cakes and what you assumed to be piles of letters sat around your desk.
Groaning as you dumped your bag onto the ground, shouldering your coat off to place it on the hook in the corner as you wondered how on earth you were going to get any work done when you were surrounded by Valentines Day.
What did Dynamight even do with this stuff? There was no way one man could eat this much chocolate, even with a sweet tooth. Your fingers reached out to stroke one of the vibrant red rose petals as you thought about the tiny box of chocolates that now sat in your bag.
There was no way you could gift those to him now, not after seeing this. Your messy wrapping was nothing compared to the intricate designs and patterns on these gifts. The next one more lavish than the last— some must have cost hundreds, maybe even thousands as you collapsed into your chair with a pout.
Maybe if you were lucky Dynamight would let you try some of the chocolate. You were certain one of the boxes that sat decorating the room contained some of the luxury chocolate that had gold flakes inside, and maybe you’d sneak out one of the bottles of champagne to in order to have with a warm bath tonight to try and drown your sorrows.
Bakugou came into the office around midday, preparing himself for the graveyard shift as he stepped out of the elevator onto his floor. Pulling out one of his headphones as he let his vermilion eyes screen the room, groaning at how disgusting the arrangement looked as he saw you settled in the middle of it all.
“Good morning, sir.” You smiled softly, and it had Bakugou’s heart racing.
Bakugou grunted in reply as he came towards your desk, cringing internally when he noticed the strong scent of women’s perfume permeating the air. The contrasting scents mingled together as it made him feel lightheaded, wondering how you’d managed to work in this room surrounded by all this shit for so long.
“Call maintenance, get them to come up and get rid of all this shit.”
“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see any of it—” You smiled softly.
“I dunno how you’re working surrounded by this crap, shit fuckin’ reeks.” He groaned.
“It’s not so bad,” You mumbled shyly, “I can send all the gifts downstairs, but there’s a few letters you might want to see.”
Bakugou looked back at the sacks of letters placed in the corner of the room, wondering why his PR team hadn’t gone through them and sent back generic replies with his photocopied signature like they usually did.
“Lazy assholes.” He mumbled under his breath, “You been eatin’ the chocolate?”
“Uh- yeah, sorry sir. I’m—” You’d taken what may have been your only chance to try the expensive chocolate, deciding that if you were going to drown your sorrows you were going to do it in luxury.
“Take it.” He cut you off, “I don’t care about this shit.”
“Oh,” You felt your heart drop as he continued past you towards his office.
“Fuckin’ hate this stupid day.” He mumbled, opening his office door.
“Yeah, Valentines is overrated. I’ll get this cleared up for you, sir.” You smiled wistfully as he closed the door behind him
Taking the chocolates out of your bag you decided to add them to the massive pile of gifts in Dynamight’s office. Not wanting to take them home and eat them yourself, it was already embarrassing enough that you’d spent so long making them for Bakugou when you should’ve known that you wouldn’t have a chance.
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But little did you know on the other side of the door, Bakugou slumped into the chair in his office as he pulled a small gift out of his jacket pocket. Your words playing in his mind as he toyed with it between his fingers.
She thinks valentines is fucking overrated.
He’d been a fuckin’ idiot, stopping into one of the quaint, independent shops moments before closing to try and find a gift for you. Feeling stupid in his full hero costume as the store assistant smiled at him, locking the door so he could have a few moments to himself after closing to help find the perfect gift for you.
Shoving the small box into his pants pocket as he tipped the assistant generously, leaving the store to continue his night patrol.
White Day was approaching, but Bakugou wasn’t sure he could wait. Determined to give you the gift when he came into the office the next morning. But seeing your face surrounded by all those gifts from other women, and seeing how deflated you looked by the whole holiday, there was no way he could give you his gift.
Tossing the small box into the top drawer of his desk as he lay the back of his head against his chair, groaning softly.
Man, fuck Valentines Day.
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finelinevogue · 4 months
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a montage of love
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summary - a fan has put together a small video of some of your best moments together
word count - ~1.5k
pairing - boyfriend!harry x youtuber!reader
The video screen filled with pictures of you and Harry along with the title ‘A quiet love like Harry and Y/Ns’.
The ten minute video was a fan-made compilation of moments between you and Harry that were quiet love moments. Moments where you didn’t say the words ‘I love you’ out loud, but the actions were louder than words anyways.
The fan put a disclaimer on the screen and claimed that they didn’t own any of the content.
You was a YouTuber so a lot of the content came from her channel, since Harry was always so proud and happy to be on your channel.
The video then started.
>>>>Clip 1:
The background was noise, since you were in a restaurant.
You and Harry were sat on the same side of the green velvet booth, shoulder to shoulder as if it were a pain to be sat apart.
The camera was placed on the table in front of you. You didn’t want to film the whole evening, since it was along time you and Harry couldn’t afford to waste, but you wanted to record a little just for memories.
Harry’s hand comes into view to hold yours that’s resting on the table. When you accept his hand, he brings them both up to his lips to give your skin a soft kiss.
“I love you.” He said quietly, but the camera picks it up.
“I love you too.” You blushed and rested your head against his shoulder affectionately.
“You want the last bite of my chocolate cake?” He asked you.
You nodded against his shoulder and he brought his other hand, fork loaded with a chocolate bite delight up to your mouth for you.
You ate it swiftly, not allowing any crumbs.
That bite was Harry’s way of saying I love you, again, but just in a different way.
>>>>Clip 2:
Standing in front of the floor length mirror in your house, you filmed for a winters walk vlog.
Lulu, your dog, padded around by your feet, awaiting her walk.
You were showing your outfit.
“My leggings are from H&M; cheap and cheerful my lovelies! The hoodie is from Harry’s wardrobe, but I believe it’s not cheap and cheerful. Don’t ask me why it isn’t, when it’s literally just a blue hoodie…”
You often joked about Harry’s incessant need to buy expensive clothes when he could be better spending it elsewhere… like on you!
“The coat is from Zara, I think, but I bought it from Vinted. Grabbed a great price for it and we’re preventing fast fashion in this household. And finally my ugly walking boots are from Go Outdoors. Sexy, I know!” You joked.
Harry walked in behind you then, dressed in a similar attire only with black running shorts over his leggings.
“Ready?” You asked him.
“Not until you bloody zip your coat up.” Harry huffed, picking up the keys from the key bowl by the front door.
“I don’t need to.”
“Yeah, nice try you.” He laughed and then his was before you, taking matters into his own hands and zipping up your coat for you.
Technically one of your hands was filming and the other was controlling Lulu, so there wasn’t much you could do anyways.
“So annoying.”
“Huff and pout all you like, but I’m saving you from a life of misery and cold.” He looked proud of himself after he zipped you up.
“Happy now?” You sarcastically asked.
“Not without a kiss I’m not.”
You pretended like that was a chore, but really you were excited to give him a kiss. The video stopped then, because you weren’t one to expose your PDA to the public.
>>>>Clip 3:
In the same video, you filmed your walk with Harry and Lulu.
You went on a walk alongside a canal, stopping off around at a little book swap along the way. Harry picked up a book and so did you, Harry offering to carry them both as you were walking Lulu.
You were walking canal side when Harry tugged on your hand and pulled you across him.
“What are you doing?” You laughed, Lulu happily walking ahead of you both.
“Making sure you’re less likely to fall in the canal, especially if Lulu tugs you.”
Harry was now walking canal side, holding your hand with his.
You made sure the camera caught the moment where you kissed his cheek in silent thanks, forever indebted to his gentlemanly capabilities.
>>>>Clip 4:
The room is bright as the sunset burns through the room.
You are sat on the floor, in front of the sofa in the living room, filming a segment of a video where you answer fan questions.
“What did Harry get you for Christmas?” You read out the question that you were asked via Instagram.
“He decided to get me a weighted blanket, because every time he goes away I find it quite difficult to fall asleep. The idea of the weighted blanket is to mimic him lying across me, which makes me feel more safe and calms me into sleeping better.”
You blushed as you answered, picking up your cup of tea to take a sip of it to hide your embarrassment.
You paused to think about you opening that gift and how happy you had been in that moment. Harry knew not to buy you anything that was expensive or materialistic. He bought you something practical and perfect, plus the he bought it in your favourite colour; yellow.
It was such a thoughtful gift and even more thoughtful coming from a man who could’ve easily bought you a meaningless yacht if he wanted.
The front door then unlocked and you turned to see who it was.
“Hey, m’love.” Harry said as he walked through, Pleasing tote bag on his shoulder and wrapped for winter.
“Hello, you. How was your day?” You asked him, watching him take off his coat and shoes.
“Busy, but good. Yeah, we wrote an entire verse which I’m proper happy with.”
“I’m just filming a bit for my next vlog, but I’ll make is dinner in a bit.” You promised, knowing he would be hungry after a full day in the studio.
Harry walked over to you, with a bunch of colourful tulips in his hand. He crouched down beside you, waving into the recording camera before handing over the flowers to you.
“For me?” You pouted at how sweet the gesture was, “Why?”
“Does there have to be a reason?”
“Harry…” You whined, feeling like you could cry. “Thank you.”
“It’s okay. You’re worth more than that, which is why takeaway is on me tonight.” He kissed your forehead - aware that the camera was still rolling.
“It’s always on you, honey.” You joked.
“That’s right. Treat you so well, don’t I?”
You couldn’t argue with him there.
“Did you eat today?” You asked him, concerned for his wellbeing as much as he is for yours.
“I did. Mitch brought us a couple boxes of sushi.”
“As long as you’ve had something, that’s all I care about.”
“Oh what would I do without you, my love?” Harry asked you, kissing your cheek.
“Perish.”
“That’s one word for it.”
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sarahisslytherin · 15 days
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•❣•୨୧ 𝙩𝙤𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ୨୧•❣•
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vincent renzi x reader
summary: vincent comes over to watch the eclipse and a secret gets out.
contains: fluffy fluff.
a/n: not me writing a fic about some random pathetic white middle-aged french man just cos of one movie what.
word count: 0.7k
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The snow falls softly upon your little impromptu bonfire. There’s going to be a solar eclipse tonight, so you thought you’d make a night of it. You fished two beer bottles out of the fridge and invited Vincent to join you. He’d been a good friend to you for years, though you couldn’t help but harbor a small crush on him; it was harmless, really. So maybe you felt butterflies’ wings flutter in your stomach when he smiled, felt your cheeks heat up at the slightest touch. Maybe you’d spent many late nights drunk on wine and on him, philosophizing about the most asinine of topics deep into the early morning. Tonight will be one of those nights. 
“What a fine establishment!” Vincent chuckles, unintentionally startling you. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?” His feet fall silently upon the thick coat of snow beneath you, leaving a trail from the cabin up to the bonfire. He’s carrying a mug of hot chocolate in each hand (you quickly ran out of beer), the steam visibly wafting up into the winter air.
“Only a little.” you admit sheepishly. He smirks, and your heart melts in spite of the biting cold engulfing you. Vincent’s gentle gaze lingers a moment before finally turning toward the fire, which he bends down to throw another log on. His silver hair seems white from the snowflakes gathering atop it, something like an angel. You take a seat on a nearby log, sipping on your hot chocolate. 
“Why so quiet tonight?” he asks as he sits at your side.
“I’m not being quiet.” you frown defensively.
“Non, pas du tout.” he tuts: No, not at all. “You’ve barely spoken since I arrived. Have I done something wrong?” 
“No, Vincent.” you insist, try forcing a laugh and hope he doesn’t notice. “I promise you I’m fine.” You hadn’t noticed until he mentioned it but he’s right. Tonight feels different. Perhaps it’s because of the eclipse, perhaps it’s not. You’re not quite sure what to think and then you’re not even sure you recall how to think when Vincent begins absentmindedly tracing his fingers across your back; his own quiet way of comforting you. You watch as he lights up a cigarette and takes a drag, cheeks hollowing out with the inhale and smoke puffing out with the exhale. 
“That’s gonna end up killing you one day, you know.” you sigh at him, shooting his cigarette a nasty look.
“Hopefully you’ll have told me what’s going on with you before that.” he retorts, a cynical brow arched as he takes another drag. “Come on, now.”
“Why are you pushing this?” you stand, suddenly defensive. Vincent stubs his cigarette, his undivided attention all for you. 
“Because you’re my friend and I care for you.” he says as if it were a universal truth known across the globe and accepted as an irrefutable fact. 
“That’s just the problem, Vincent!” you burst, tears threatening to brim in your eyes as you look down to where he sits by the fire. “I’m your friend! I’ll only ever be your friend!”
Vincent stands now, puzzled eyes now widening with realization. “What are you saying?”
“What do you think, Vincent?” you ask, the sarcasm practically dripping off your tongue. “I’m tired of being just a friend. I can’t take it anymore!”
“Don’t be ‘just my friend’.” he says, desperation catching in his throat. “Be something more.”
“What?” you stand as if frozen to the snow, stunned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean I’ve loved you since the day we met!” he admits, the sound of his voice like a tree falling in the woods. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say it back.”
He strides his way towards you, his hand cupping your rosy cheek. “Je t’aime.” His lips press against yours softly, growing in intensity with each passing second. You pull away a moment, look into his sweet eyes and finally say it back to him. “I love you too, Vincent.” The kiss resumes, and your breath is taken away all over again. It’s as if the world has shifted, gone silent; you feel your sight go black. Vincent must feel it too, because he pulls away and looks around only to find that the world has indeed gone black.
“Vincent, the eclipse!” you squeal, pulling him close. “It’s so beautiful.”
You don’t really notice it, but when Vincent recounts the story you learn he was looking at you when he replied. “Oui, beautiful.”
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biteofcherry · 8 months
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Sweet and stained
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Sweet and stained
soft dark Nick Fowler x female reader
a Hades/Persephone inspired AU set in modern times, with an implied mafia background
summary: You live in the sun and blooms, under your mother's protective wing (or is it cage?). When Nick Fowler strolls into your life, he brings a wave of thrilling fresh with the darkness that follows him.
warnings: soft!dark Nick Fowler; sort of dub-con; kidnapping; manipulation; light corruption kink; mentioned breeding kink; a bit of smutty scenes included;
Author's Note: This is a trope that won the poll for my birthday celebration story. Honestly, the way I imagined this fic at first is completely different from how it turned out. Less sharp than my usual style and more of a gloomy, start-of-the-autumn poetics. Still, I hope you'll enjoy!
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You never knew black could shimmer so brilliantly, even though you saw its various shades in petals of unique flowers. The night sky’s ink was dotted with sparkling dust, too, after all. Yet it was only now that you noticed the luminosity of dark, as your head tilted back on the softest pillows and your gaze roamed the supple garlands of the black canopy.
Dark interior, which scared you the first time you took a step inside, now engulfed you in heady warmth. Like a sip of spicy hot chocolate, so rich and thick it coats your tongue and fills your belly with a bitter bite to its general sweetness.
There’s more spice than sweetness to your captor, but you began realizing he remained the only one to treat you with softness. As if he truly cared.
Perhaps he did? 
Maybe the charm and patience he showed you at the beginning were as true as the ruthless possessiveness with which he bound you to him. 
You had years to find that out. Decades at his side, to unravel the scary mystery that was Nick Fowler.
Your husband.
His face above you, as he sat beside your sweaty, spent body, shone a serene glow. His eyes a shade of clear lake, with monsters luring in the depths. 
You still feared him, but Nick gave you enough proof that he wouldn’t hurt you. 
Even if his plan for you was weaved out of nefarious intentions. 
He set aside the glass of water which he brought to your lips a moment ago, soothing your throat that dried out from how much you screamed for him. 
It’s for the best that you couldn’t speak at the moment, your breath still ragged; since you didn’t know what you’d say to him after all the debauched things he did to you. Post sex pillow talk was never your forte, but it was even more awkward after willingly spreading your legs for a man who ripped you from your life as one plucked a flower from the ground.  
Silently, you watched Nick once again pick a crystal bowl from the nightstand, a shiny barrow of pomegranate seeds peeking above the rim. 
He devoured some moments before he indulged in your dripping pussy.  
Seeds glistened ruby richness on Nick’s fingers as he brought them to your lips; his own mouth stained with the juice. He left traces of the red sweetness on your thighs and mound, mixing pomegranate flavor with your combined spend. 
Your lips wrapped around his digits as he spilled fruity grains on your tongue. One of your hands rested on your belly, just below your navel. 
Nick has repeatedly filled you with seeds that night, not only those of a pomegranate. 
It made you tremble. His intent was clear; not only shown in relentless, deep thrusts, but dark and dirty words whispered into your ear. 
Your body shouldn’t react so eagerly to his plans, arching and spasming in whorish acceptance as he ordered you to take it; as he fucked you through one climax into another, telling you of his heir swelling in your womb. 
Disgust should have filled you, instead of arousal. Because as much as you believed Nick was going to dote on you, his owning of your body in every sense was driven by revenge. 
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
With the wide rim of the sunhat on your head limiting your view and your focus on the pots dancing away from you (the wind that day was wickedly playful, knocking over the smaller pots every time you righted them), you weren’t paying much attention to your surroundings. 
People walked past, some gleefully talking about plants, others arguing on what was or wasn’t needed in their garden. On a sunny day like that, Demeter Gardens had as many customers as a fun fair on weekends. 
The staff was really busy on days like this, doubling their efforts, because it was usually when your mother chose to grace the place with her radiant presence - radiant to the customers, an absolute harpy to her workers. 
There were many traits you admired about your mother. The most inspiring was the fact she was a barely out of teens single mother who managed to raise you and start a business that flourished into a state known brand. 
She had her faults, too. Like the high expectations and harsh tongue when someone didn’t meet her standards.
It went both for her employees and her daughter. 
Working with plants soothed you, so at least your future as the heiress to the empire your mother wanted you to take over didn’t look as grim. Even if some evenings you cried into a pillow, because it wasn’t what you dreamt of at all.
Growing under her wing, you didn’t get much of a chance to explore what exactly you could dream of, what called out to you, but you simply knew that running a gardening business wasn’t it. 
You never dared to tell your mother that. Enough times have you suffered her cruel words, snide remarks regarding anything that strayed even a step away from her grand plans. Demeter had ambition rivaling many moguls and she poured it onto you as well. The only praise you got was when you won any sort of competition, or mentioned business plans. 
Your mother may have only spiteful words to say about your absent father, but she possessed the same self-centered core as him. Rotten and unkind. 
How plants flourished under her hands, you had no idea. 
Though she didn’t spend much time with them anymore, leaving it to people who really liked working with plants. You liked the peace and quiet it offered, which is why you spent almost every day at the gardening center. 
“Excuse me?” A smooth male voice startled you.
Not only with how sudden and close it was, but also because it was so unusual in a place mostly filled with cheery, loudly speaking families or couples. 
You turned your head, pulling the rim of your sunhat up with your dirty fingers, so you could see the person better. 
Your gaze met a pair of blue eyes, with a silvery gray swirl in them, that chilled you like an autumn rain pattering on your skin. A shadow of stubble along a chiseled jaw, which would feel under your fingertips like frosty needles of the first hoarse coating November leaves. Subtle, pink lips curved in a smile, but its charm didn’t fully cover the sharp threat of teeth that could sink in ‘till blood spilled like in spooky nightmares of autumnal season.
This man looked like the stillness of dying nature, engulfed in fog and chilling to the bones. A dark spirit amongst the lush greenery and blooming life that stretched all around. 
And yet he was more beautiful than any man you ever laid eyes on. 
“Yes?” You swallowed nervously, mostly to wet your suddenly dry throat. “Can I help you?”
“I’m sure you can,” he said softly, his voice a brush of cool silk. 
“See, I usually hire garden designers to take care of any greenery around my business buildings, but the one at my actual home? I wanted to work on it myself.”
“Understandable.” You smiled at him. “Having your own garden is a personal thing. Working on it helps you connect with the place that will be your oasis.”
“The problem is, I quickly realized I have zero idea what I’m doing. But I’m a stubborn bastard, who’s still adamant on chasing what he set his eyes on.” He sighed dramatically, making you laugh.
“Anyway-” he shook his head- “I’m Nick. Please, help me out?” 
You gave him your name, taking his hand when he outstretched it. His fingers were calloused, though it’s the cool brush of metal of his rings that sent tiny spikes of sensation through you. 
“What exactly do you need my help with, Nick?” You took off your sunhat and squinted slightly as the sunlight soaked your vision. 
“My tastes are… unique.” You knew he spoke about aesthetic preferences, but couldn’t help hearing the double meaning behind it. Especially with the sensual flick of his tongue over his bottom lip.
“I’m mostly out the whole day,” Nick continued explaining, “coming home only in the evening. Which is when I wish to spend most time in the garden. To relax and enjoy its secret beauty.”
“You want night bloomers.” You guessed, grinning ear to ear.
Flowers blooming in the evening and through the night were one of your favorites. There was something about them that called out to you. Perhaps the fact they were overlooked under the radiant sun, hiding their secret beauty to flourish in shadows, when no one could judge them. 
There was also the aura of mystery about them, pairing so well with your fondness for gloomy and gothic stories. 
“See? I knew I was asking the right person for help.” Nick mirrored your smile; his made you a little weak in the knees. 
“You have to get the Moonflower, of course.” You moved and gestured for Nick to follow you, as you led him to the far end of the center. 
“I have to?” Nick chuckled, matching your step to walk beside you rather than behind you. 
Shoulder to shoulder with him, you suddenly realized he was taller than at first sight. Much warmer than what his dark aura suggested, too. And his scent was a toe-curling reminder of spicy mulled wine sipped by the fireplace.
“Yes!” You nodded, brushing your fingertips along the plants you passed on your way. “Moonflower is my favorite. It’s similar to the morning glory. You won’t see its full beauty now, but I assure you it never disappoints.”
When you finally reached the corner with potted plants - from smallest to those quite grown already - Nick bent over to examine it closely. He gently trailed the heart-shaped leaves, then plucked the yellow card attached to one of the thin stems. 
“Moonflower, or moon vine,” he read aloud, “is a night-blooming morning glory that opens in the evening and stays full until morning.”
Nick straightened and turned to you, gaze slowly dragging up your body. When his eyes met yours, there was a glint of something cold and dangerous in them. As if for a split of a second you saw a flash of instrumental triumph.
“Opens in the evening and stays full until morning,” he repeated the words, his voice dropping an octave and filling your belly with unexpected heat. “I like it already.” 
“Uh, well-” you squeezed the rim of the sunhat in your grasp- “Yes, see, I told you. You’ll like it even more when it blooms in your garden.”
“I know I will.” Nick affirmed solemnly. 
Something about his gaze, or perhaps it was the set of his jaw, quickened your pulse with a warning that his intent was more than just a harmless flirting. There was this tinge of danger about him, fizzing on the tip of your tongue with a spicy aftertaste. 
If you licked his skin, the cold darkness may swallow you, but everything inside you would set aflame. 
Apprehension tingled inside your chest, like wind chimes’ pearly tune that lured with their woeful longing. Reason whispered to take a step back, but feet moved forward on their own, drawn to the inner flame that may as well be straight from hell. 
It was hard to break eye contact with Nick, but you feared if you didn’t look away he’d mesmerize you into selling your soul. And your body. Body which awoke with yearning to have his fingertips trail along your skin the same way he touched the plants.
Somehow you managed to turn away. The sun’s warmth returned to your cheeks, caressing your face with soothing lightness the second you stepped away from Nick’s gloomy aura.
“You should also get night blooming Jasmine. It smells so sweet.” You rambled about plants, clutching onto the topic like it was a lifebuoy keeping you afloat from sinking into fascinating, but scary depths that were Nick’s eyes. 
“And Angel’s Trumpets!” With your presentation, excitement returned. 
You were helping create something personal, something so very unique. However Nick chose to use your advice, you had a blissful sense of creating something yourself. A garden that may as well be yours, since it catered to your aesthetic and needs as well. 
Nick ordered so many of the plants you listed that not only did you run out of stock, but had to set up a delivery from another center. You weren’t sure how big Nick’s garden was, but considering the amount of plants it had to be a king-sized land. 
The thought of roaming it in the late evening, with dusk hiding hues of purple and gold in a shroud of ink black, and moonlit petals opening up for the life of creatures of the night; it made your heart yearn.
You’d love to wander through that garden. 
For someone who ran a gardening empire, your mother kept you both locked in a metal and glass skyscraper, in a two-floor penthouse with (amazing, but contained) view of the city. 
It was a cage. 
As you watched Nick walk away after he paid in advance for the order, though he took with him some chilling sense of danger, you envied his freedom to simply walk away from the sun and the blooms. 
Many would be jealous of you, you were aware of that. Living among lush greenery and constant sun seemed wonderful. It was to an extent. But this pristine, spring and summer only land, didn’t allow difference. There was no real room for unusual, dark undertones of wicked hearts that would love to have wild mushrooms spread over their lawn instead of snobby hydrangeas. 
When a cooling cloud shielded you from the scorching sun, coming along with Nick as he returned the next week, you felt like breathing freely for the first time since he walked away. 
This time he asked for fruit trees which he wanted to scatter among other types. The idea immediately struck you as unique, making your heart jump. 
Most of the time people divided their gardens - strict lines and areas for vegetables, separating them from decorative flowers. Mixing them up seemed chaotic, but so wonderful. What a surprise to walk through gemstone garlands of wisteria to find juicy peaches at arm’s reach. Or to tread through ferns and moonflowers to discover gooseberry bushes hidden amongst them. 
When Nick came on a third week, your excitement at his presence and news of his garden overpowered any sense of reason that kept you at a certain distance with him. 
And when he mentioned that keeping a routine and being at the center on the same day, same hour every week could be dangerous. 
“Someone could watch you, learn your schedule and plan how to steal you, Moonflower.” 
Having Nick call you Moonflower - the word rolling out on his tongue in a hum of wind, chilling to the bone, but igniting that deep-soul yearning - stirred feelings that overpowered the warning. 
Or maybe you started living for that rush of thrill Nick’s shadow elicited. The only spot of darkness allowed in your life. Enriching it thus. 
Still, fear resurfaced with tentacles of cold wrapping around you and plucking you from the sunny spot in broad daylight as you trotted to work the week after. On the same day as usual, with a bounce to your step as thirst for Nick’s brand of addictive flavor parched your throat. 
The car was black; a polished, obsidian arrowhead spearing the sheet of morning light. The engine’s sound more the growl of a prowling beast than the roar of an unhinged monster. 
Despite the speed, it stopped gracefully at the curb, cutting off your route. Nick’s silhouette stunned you as he exited the car; the blue-green depth of his eyes darker than when he walked along with you through blooming alleys. 
A smile didn’t have a chance to spread on your lips when his hand covered your mouth, the other arm wrapping around you. 
You screamed when he dragged you inside the car, but calloused fingers stifled the sound effectively. Wet tinkle of your cries reverberated against the metal of the rings adorning Nick’s fingers. 
Pleading eyes, so full of unanswered questions and fear, didn’t cut through the veil of composure. One had no chance begging their life out of death’s grip and Nick’s hold on you was a finality set in stone, as if the grim reaper came to harvest your soul to lead it to undying gardens for the rest of eternity. 
“No need for tears, Moonflower.” Nick took his hand from your mouth as the car sped away.
His touch traveled down your shaking arm, harsh fingers delivering surprisingly comforting caress. He took your hand in his and brough your palm to his mouth, kissing softly each knuckle. 
“I’ll make you a queen and treat you as such. No harm will ever be done to you.” 
“You kidnapped me,” you pointed out, voice quiet and quivering, though you bravely held his gaze. “That’s quite harmful.” 
“It’s only a means to avoid meddling of forces that would otherwise keep you away from me.” Nick rested his head back against the seat. “From what I found out about you, they’ve quashed you enough.”
“You know nothing about me, or my life!” You huffed, squirming back into the corner, your back against the side door.
You were never a physical fighter and Nick made no move to grip or hurt you other than pulling you into the car, so you didn’t attack him. You also doubted you had much of a chance of earning anything beside exhaustion and bruises. 
It was pitiful to admit, but you never fought anything or anyone beside the dragons in your head. The rebellion and storm were caged within your chest, mind full of words you wanted to scream at your mother, your father, the whole world. But you never did it. Never felt secure enough in your strength to cut those ties. 
“I know you’re dedicated and smart, finished on top of your class, gaining a degree that you never wanted to have in the first place.” Nick replied calmly.
His unperturbed composure was as much soothing as resonating with your usual behavior. Though you sensed that his limits weren’t pushable. If it came to it, his retaliation to being crossed would be severe. Lethal even. 
You envied that power. 
You wanted that power.
“You have passion for creativity and you are a fucking brilliant survivor.” Those words were spoken with admiration; a brilliant foam lighting up the sea storm of Nick’s irises. 
“You don’t love gardening as a business. I doubt you’re even interested in actual gardening work. But you see and love plants, their uniqueness, the details of them. You like their beauty, even the unusual ones. You’re an artist, Moonflower.”
Your heart burst with an intermixture of colorful emotion - a hail of fireworks against the black depth that is your caged life. 
“Artists should never be shackled into expectations.” 
“Yet you took me, because you expect something from it,” you retorted bitterly. 
“I expect nothing beyond you being by my side.” Nick’s fingers circled one of your wrists, thumb pressing against your pulse. “And strengthening the power of my empire.” 
“And how am I supposed to do that?” There was nothing of value that you could give him. Did he hope for a dowry and connections from your father? 
“Just by being with me.” He shifted, crowding you against your little safety corner. “Coming home to you would sweeten every hard day, knowing that I ripped something most precious from the one who took everything from my family.”
Comforting spices of his scent conflicted with the shadows he shrouded you in, painting a picture of a fairy tale that’s twisted enough that it shouldn’t be enjoyable. Yet struggling against the thorny veins of Nick’s plan seemed to have the opposite effect, pushing you further into forests of unknown thrills. 
“So I’m a vengeance plan?” You’d prefer it if your voice didn’t betray the disappointment, but it was too late to take back that undertone now. 
“Vengeance doesn’t mean burning the world down. That’s too simple and holds no ongoing effect.” Nick’s mouth curved in a scythe of dangerously alluring smirk, his eyes darkening. “Phoenixes rise from the ashes of burnt kingdoms. I rose from it.”
“My type of vengeance is to flourish on the fertile fields of my enemy’s broken ambitions.”
You believed Nick’s every word - that he had the resilience and endurance to build himself from whatever ruin his opponents left him with. It honed him, like hell fire does an indestructible blade. 
Many would use that lethal edge to cut the throats of all enemies. But Nick’s revenge wasn’t to bring short term pain and wipe out the others, he wanted them to drown in their suffering, to stretch it out plucking petal after petal of their lush empires. 
“You, Moonflower-” he skimmed his fingers along your arm and up the column of your throat- “are my prosperity. My core to thrive.”
“Binding you to me and allowing you to bloom into a woman you always wished to be, whatever form that may take,” Nick loosely curled his fingers around your neck, “will make me happy for I know you’re a brilliant gem. But I won’t hide that it will also crush the rotten heart of my enemy.”
“Seeing you at my side, growing along me and with me-” something about that particular choice of words unfurled heat in your core, like the time he mentioned flowers staying full-
“-will keep the flame of anger and pain consuming her daily.”
“Her?” you suddenly blinked, moving your legs slightly to alleviate the pressure that uncomfortably grazed your folds. 
“My mother?” You stared at Nick in bewilderment. “She’s your enemy?” 
Nick chuckled, though you weren’t sure if it was at your astonishment or the squirmy movement of your body which he noticed. He leaned closer still, knees brushing against yours. Where the fabric of your summer dress rolled up on your thighs, the fine fabric of his suit pants grazed your skin. 
“Your mother may present herself as the survivor against all odds and she is very determined, I’ll give her that. She also became heartless in her need to improve her life and show the world she doesn’t need help, ripping the fortune of others to build herself.” 
“She stole from you?” There wasn’t much shock in your response. After all, you knew the backstage face of the gardening queen; the truth behind the sunny smile of the nature-loving new age goddess. 
“From my family.” Nick gritted his teeth at the mention. “They took her pregnant under their roof, taught her family secrets of maintaining lush flowers. I was barely four when you were growing in her belly, but I remember her always slapping my hand away when I wanted to touch it, to feel a tiny baby miracle kicking.”
He didn’t say it, but you began to understand the part of possessiveness. The touch he didn’t withdraw an inch once he was able to reach for you freely. Something he was denied, now he ripped it away for himself. 
“First she stole the knowledge, then farms and fields.” Nick continued, his voice heavy with ice cold anger. “Came with fancy lawyers and bulldozers, chasing my family away from the scrap of land and the mounds of soil that my grandparents brought from Romania.”
You remembered one time your mother mentioned something about the secret being in the soil, a harpy reflection to her smile when she did. 
“My mother’s heart couldn’t take it. My father fled to Romania, finding the only solace in a small square of land where he grew a new hybrid of flowers. Named it after my mother.” 
Nick paused for a moment, his eyes boring into yours. A few breaths and the rage surpassed, leaving the lull of oceanic waves in his eyes. They rocked you as you held his gaze; your body attuning to the pulse of crackling fireplace on a dead cold autumn night that was Nick’s aura. 
“I’m not a gardener myself,” Nick shrugged, easing his free hand up your leg. “But I know how to plow through hard and high grounds. I’ve made myself a different kind of empire, though I always remained respectful of nature and plants, as my parents did.” 
You didn’t even feel him grip you any harder, yet somehow Nick managed to switch your positions in a blink of an eye - pulling you onto his lap. 
One of his hands remained at your throat, thumb gently stroking up and down along your pulsing vein. 
“You’ll be my queen. You’ll give me heirs.” It wasn’t a proposition, but a declaration of decision set in stone. “I’ll give you the freedom and power you so desperately crave.”
“What do you know of my cravings?” You hoped to challenge his confidence, to fight against the tendrils of magnetic pull that weaved around your limbs. 
“I know you turned my way like a plant does seeking the sun,” Nick’s hand slid beneath your dress. “Keeping so close, coming even closer each time, like an addict hopes to lick a single fleck of whatever gets him high.” 
Cool rings pressed into your skin, spiking your heart rate into a paradoxical pasodoble between desire and trepidation. Just like the nights you used your own fingers to the image of Nick fucking you in the night garden. 
“I know each time you thought I was coming to visit, you wore a shorter dress.” His fingers on your thigh inched further up. “This one today? If I met you inside the gardening center and you’d bend over to show me moss arrangements, I’d get a peek of your ass.” 
He did get that peek. 
When he bent you over his bed that night. After having you sign your name on all the legally (illegally too, undoubtedly) binding documents as a paid, stoic-faced registrar officiated your wedding. The ink was deep red, as blood that one spills for the devil. 
Red was also the wine Nick brought to your lips in a crystal glass. The rich, thick taste of it was a bland mist compared to the burning magma of Nick’s lips against yours, molting away the taste of your previous life as he sealed your contract. 
One hand on the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he fed you his sinful tongue, the other buried beneath your sundress. Firm, relentless fingers eliciting tangy, warm rain from between your thighs; watering the soil of the garden filled with plants that you picked. That you loved and Nick provided for you. 
He made you mark the land as yours, as he marked you as his. Your voice an enchanted cry of spell that was Nick’s name. 
Then he took you to the bedroom - the heart of the underworld kingdom. 
Though the dark interior sent a ripple of unease down your spine at first; it was like stepping into a cold, mountain stream after days of hiking in blinding sun. Then the jewel undertones of onyx and cuprite engulfed you. Shimmering black curtains of the canopy parted its wings for you, as Nick led you to the bed. 
You never strayed from dirt, but it only stained your hands and clothes as you worked with soil. The dirt spilling from Nick’s mouth as he took you seemed to twist your body into inhuman arches of pleasure, reshaping your mind so it became greedy for the sizzling impulses his filthy words elicited.
Tightest cunt.
Delicious hole. 
Breedable pussy.
Mine.
Tears trickled down your cheeks - a salty passage from a girly life of obedient silence into empowered if dark womanhood. Briny dew altered into shy sweetness as your moans stretched, tears turning into those of overwhelming pleasure. 
Nick showered you with it. With his tongue and fingers; with his cock that filled you with girth and the precious spent he cursed to take root in your womb. 
He led you like a queen, just like he promised, once you were able to stand on your trembling legs after hours of being both worshiped and owned. A silk robe in a color of a red so dark it might as well be woven from arterial blood floated around your frame as Nick took you into the garden. 
His fingers intertwined with yours. His pace adjusted to yours, not once rushing or slowing you down. 
Focused on admiring the beauty of silvery moonflowers and creamy bells of Angel’s Trumpets, you didn’t notice Nick’s eyes were only on you. 
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kdogreads · 6 months
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Halloween with Richie
I live about two hours east of Chicago and we had a very cold, snowy Halloween so here is how I imagine trick or treating going with you and Richie & co.
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Richie Jerimovich x pregnant!reader fluff🥰
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After being with Richie for a few years now, you knew holidays were always a tricky subject when it came to Eva. Who got her on Christmas Day? Christmas Eve?Thanksgiving? Easter? And most concerning of all for Richie, Halloween.
Richie’d always loved Halloween for as long as you’d known him. He loved helping his daughter get dressed up and being the dad carrying around coats or water or discarded accessories.
Tiffany usually offered to let you and Richie take Eva trick or treating since she knew how much he loved the holiday, too. This year, though, you wanted to run a different idea by the doting dad.
When you first brought up the idea of all of you taking her together, you and Richie and Tiffany and Frank, he was hesitant.
“All of us? Baby, I don’t know. It’ll be awkward and, like, what do we talk about? The weather?” He scratched his head like he does when he’s stressed.
“We don’t have to talk about anything, honey. We’ll just be there to have fun with E,” You tried to calm his nerves by sliding your arms up around his broad shoulders, “Just ask Tiff? Please?”
You weren’t sure if he really came around to the idea or if your sad, pouty face did the trick, but a few weeks later you were in the car, heat blasting, heading to the neighborhood Tiffany and Frank live in.
“Fuckin’ snowing — On Halloween! Goddamn Chicago weather, I swear,” Richie cursed as he climbed in the driver’s seat from brushing the car off.
“You need to watch your mouth, Richard, or your daughters are going to start sounding like you,” You tried desperately to keep the stern look on your face while rubbing soft circles over your round belly.
“Damn right they will. Their daddy kicks ass and so do they,” He reached over and placed a loving hand on the top of your swollen midsection, adjusting your big, puffy coat slightly in the process and easing some of the tugging feeling on your back.
You groan happily at the relief but remember quickly you’re supposed to be lecturing him. You shoot him a quick eye roll in feigned annoyance and Richie just laughs while he shifts the car into drive.
It’s a quick trip to their house, and when the two of you pull up, Eva is already peeking out the front door, anxiously waiting to start collecting candy.
Eva gives you both big hugs and you exchange pleasantries with Tiffany and Frank. There isn’t much time for chit chat though, not when Eva’s already sprinting down the driveway.
The five of you make your way down several blocks worth of candy, the grown-ups longingly reminiscing about last Halloween (when it was 65 degrees and sunny), and casually chatting about upcoming football games, while Eva fulfills her goal to fill her pumpkin pail to the very tippy top.
It was fun. And entertaining. And easy. No one had to try to make it less awkward or stiffly discuss the weather. It was happy and you were so glad you talked Richie into this.
Once you were sufficiently frozen, and only after hitting all of the houses with their porch lights on, Tiff invited you both in for some hot chocolate. You sat comfortable around her kitchen table while Eva meticulously sorted through her loot. Richie’s chronically warms hands rested gently on your shoulders as he oversaw the candy-distribution process.
“Daddy gets the old people candy because he’s old,” Eva snickered as Richie feigned an angry face as her, “And Mommy and Frank’s favorite are these ones, and these ones are for you and the baby.”
Eva delicately shoved small mountains of candy in each of your directions and you couldn’t help but smile up at Richie with pride at how generous and thoughtful his little girl was.
“So,” Eva begins, her face suddenly set on a very serious look, “Next year, we are all dressing up as Power Rangers. Baby sister, too. She can even be the pink one!”
Richie exclaimed with joy, so proud that his little mini-me was so much like him. He and Frank high-fived like they were at a football game or something while you and Tiff just shook your heads.
The joint Halloween was a smashing success. You rubbed your belly contentedly, already daydreaming about what all of the upcoming holidays would look like with your unusual, extended, perfect family.
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