#they were eating christmas dinner in the dark

[targaryenluvs]

DELICATE

pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader

warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD

summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?

word count: 2.09k words

a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz

taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s

PART TWO

coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.

he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.

coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.

coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.

“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”

the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?

but right now you felt at ease.

you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.

coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.

and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.

so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.

“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.

every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?

he wanted to puke.

the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-

you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”

he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.

“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.

you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.

the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.

but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.

the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.

your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.

stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.

“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”

the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.

coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.

his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.

“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.

“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,

“you won’t be for long.”

you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”

he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.

“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”

this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.

coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.

would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.

you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.

his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.

corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.

your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.

you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.

#coriolanus snow x fem!reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #yandere coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #hunger games x reader #the hunger games

[postersofleon]

Wrong Age For A Babysitter

It's winter break. You went to visit your parents after a long time of seeing them. To your surprise, a guy who is your age says he needs to babysit you.

content: fluff and smut

notes: afab fem!reader, mentions of drinking alcohol, reader drinks it with leon. leon and reader are in their twenties. cute sex. second point of view to not have y/n, before the events of raccoon city, no mentions of holiday just winter. non canon lore of leon; this was suppose to be published in december, but I forgot about this.

taglist: @argreion

It was the winter holiday after a long time studying for finals, you went home to your parents home to visit them. At least for a while, but unexpectedly, your parents weren't home. You took off your shoes before entering, the house was dark with very little light. "No even a voice mail." You muttered bitterly. Your eyes looked around to see what you'll respectful steal from your parents. Cookies. Hell yeah. You grabbed from the selection and took a bite. The silent house only heard were the munches of your teeth eating the cookie.

That's when you saw a note from your parents on the fridge.

Hi, we went to dinner with a couple of friends. Sorry we couldn't be with you.

Your eyes narrowed, "But couldn't call." You didn't mean to sound so damn bitter, but how much it hurt to call in. You grabbed a beer and cracked the can open. You steal more cookies from the tray, and your eyes found the thermostat and made it comfortable heat. You grabbed your beer and sat on the couch of the living room.

You attempted to find the remote, but nope. This was getting more and more annoying. You put the beer on the coffee table and put the cookies on top of the fizzy beer. Your hands patted down the couch over and over, your fingers were shoved inside the edges of the couch. You found pocket change and put in your pocket without thinking twice.

But the small lived silence stopped when you heard a knock. Your head snapped to turn to see who it could be. Was it those Christmas singers? No. There's was silence, and those people were loud. You carefully grabbed a cookie and ate a bit of it before walking towards the door.

You checked the peep hole and found a sandy blond guy in the other side. His cheeks were flushed from the cold. "Hi?" He began, "Um, I'm Leon. The babysitter." He knocked again.

Maybe it was a dumb action but you opened the door immediately. "Sorry, wrong house. I'm twenty." It wouldn't make sense why your parents would send a babysitter.

Leon shook his head, "Impossible." He took off his glove and pulled out a piece of paper that read your address. You ate another piece of your cookie before looking at the paper, "You got the wrong house." You knew so. You stepped a bit out of the comfort of your home, "Over there." Leon turned to see, "My neighbors have a daughter. You are probably her babysitter."

Leon shook his head, "I don't mess up my addresses." He exhaled deeply. His eyes almost intimidated you, he looked so damn determined, and with that you felt a bit of second hand embarrassment. You took another bite of your cookie, "Can I see some ID?" You asked him with small levels of impatience. Leon automatically gave you his ID.

What a handsome guy. "Leon Scott Kennedy." You read out his information, "Happy early birthday." You smiled politely at him as you continued to look at it.

You knew your parents were careful around you, but not to give you a babysitter at your age. "Listen," You began, "You seem a nice guy, but I don't need a babysitter. I just got out of college to enjoy the winter break."

Leon sighed softly, the exhale was that looked like that fog, "Listen, I don't break my promises," His blue eyes were focused, "If your parents put me as a twenty year olds babysitter. I'll do it."

"Fuck it. Fine." You pulled away to let him enter. You were being stupid and ignore all the possible red flags of this situation. Once Leon entered, he took off his snow boots and his coat. He turned to see the living room, hoping at least there was children to actually take care of, but it was only you and him.

"Wanna a beer?" You asked him with a tiny awkward smile.

Leon didn't drink beer in his babysitting job. But what is he gonna protect you from? "Yeah, that would be nice." He sat down on the couch and looked around. It was nice and toasty. You looked at him for a second before going to the kitchen and grabbing a beer. "Here ya go." She walked back and handed it to him.

He gladly accepted it. "Appreciate it."

You sat on the other side of the couch. You needed to see why this guy was going to be your babysitter. It was dumb. You are still convinced Leon got the wrong address, but for now, you will just stayed quiet and took a drink.

Your babysitter took a drink of his own beer.

Your head leaned on the couch to see Leon properly. It was unacceptable that this guy was hot. He looked cute and lovely, and unfortunately, it wasn't enough to flirt with him. Leon turned around to see you. He had a small smile, "I'm sorry. I know I seem like a red flag." He whispered.

Without a second, you nodded your head, "Yeah, it hard to think you are... y'know... normal?"

Leon chuckled softly, "I'm going to be a cop." You snorted a laugh, "That doesn't prove anything." A gentle tease.

Leon laughed a bit louder, "I guess you are right." He took a small drink of his beer. "But I wanted to become a cop to protect people. I grew up poor with my grandma after my parents died so..." Leon brushed his hair behind his ear. "I want to be good."

"It's a noble wish." You whispered softly.

"Yeah, well, I'm trying to be chosen to work for Raccoon City." Leon leaned on the couch as he looked at your eyes. He swallowed, "It's... it's a nice place to start." You nodded your head as you listened to him speak; he had a lovely voice.

You two took a drink. You leaned closer to him, "It's nice." You confirmed.

Leon sighed softly, his cheeks redden from the warm place, "Listen," Leon rubbed gently his wrist, "Maybe I was... too stubborn." He couldn't even look at your eyes from the simple idea of him being wrong. Thinking his stuff more clearly, Leon sighed again, "I was wrong. Maybe you are right."

A small laugh appeared from your lips, "No way? Really?" You finished your beer and placed it between your thighs. Leon scowled, "I, I know." But he didn't seem offended by it. Immediately, he laughed softly, "I'm sorry." A small pause between you two, Leon looked down your thighs.

"Sorry." He whispered again.

Yeah, your own thoughts were infected at the idea so quickly. It was amusing that you first thought this dork wasn't worth it until his eyes traveled down at your thighs.

"It's, um," You cleared your throat, "Fine." Your hands grabbed the can of beer and put it on the coffee table. Leon's cheeks were redder before leaning completely forward. His lips were still a bit cold, but your warm lips didn't mind it. Gently, Leon got on top of you. His knees were side to side of your thighs, his lips tasted awful with the beer and the coldness. Yet it didn't stop you. Your lips moved with his, your lips gently sucked on his, and slowly, your tongue was inside of his mouth.

Leon's hands grabbed your hips against his, pulling them ever so gently. Leon's hips gently began to hump against you. You dropped the kiss, "L-leon..." You mumbled weakly, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he continued to hump you.

His humps were desperately slowly in attempts to get his erection, and certainly, you began to feel the bulge. Leon looked at you shyly.

God, who is this guy looking shy after grinding against you? "Are you wet?" He asked you.

Your cheeks burned up, "Um, a bit," You admitted softly, "But, I'm..." Your eyes were finally full-on focused into Leon. His cheeks were red, his bulge continued to grind against you. What kind of one night stand is this?

"Need more?" Leon whispered softly.

You nodded. Leon nodded his head and slowly got between your legs. "May I?" Leon asked. You nodded your head, "Yeah." Leon pressed his nose against your crotch, gently licking you. You gasped very weakly. His hands grabbed your hips so gently, holding you tightly. Even though you had pants on, you could feel how his hot breath felt.

"I'm ready." You whispered softly. Leon looked up at you, "You sure?" You knew it was too fast, but it was definitely worth it already. Another nod.

Leon sat up and undid your jean's button and slid them down. His eyes were focused on your thighs and your face, darting them up and down, "I, okay." He took off his own jeans. Your cheeks burned even more when you saw his dick. Your hands covered your face, "Um, I-" You laughed nervously.

"Don't laugh at it." Leon faked a pout.

His hand gently rubbed his dick and pumped it gently, "It has feelings." Slowly, the tip brushed your clit, you chewed on your lip as it slowly went inside. "Oh, fuck..." You muttered so ever weakly. Leon groaned weakly, his hips gently pushed more and more until he was completely in. His blue eyes met yours for a second and laughed, "I, I-" His dick twitched happily, he leaned close and began to kiss you. So gently and kindly. You followed behind him. Small pecks of kisses that slowly, little by little grew.

You held him tightly, his hands caressed your cheeks, "Mm, I, I could ask you on a date..." Leon mumbled against your lips. His hips slowly began to move, small little thrusts, "I don't, I don't usually do this..." Leon groaned weakly, "In the first date-" Leon rested his head on your neck and his hips went faster.

His tongue licked your neck and bite on your skin. Trying to be quiet. You gasped weakly as you felt him enter you in and out. His hands gently grabbed your breasts through your shirt, squeezing them gently.

Another weak whine, "L-Leon..." Leon lifted your shirt and shoved his face between your breasts as he thrusted deeper and deeper. He kissed your breasts gently and sucked your nipples.

Was this really all the attempts to keep quiet? To make you feel that you'll be loud. He gently nibbled on them, he growled weakly as he thrusts went faster and faster. "I, I need to..." Leon mumbled softly.

He groaned weakly, trying to hold in his release. You pulled him away from your breasts, his lips were covered with drool- his eyes were empty. He looked so pretty. You leaned weakly towards him and kissed him. He whined weakly, "Fu-Fuck, fuck..." Leon's hands travel down your lines, holding your thighs.

You were making this harder and harder for Leon.

Leon kissed your jaw as he continued to groan. His thrusts went into a bit harsher pounding, "C'mon, c'mon..."

He needed your release more than ever.

You felt how his cock just twitched over and over. His length moved in and out, the desperation in the two of you grew. His fingers found your clit and rubbed it. He whined. He finally whined with those grunts, it was just a mix of him rubbing it over and over.

You cried weakly, "Leon!"

His thrusts turned a bit sloppier, Leon groaned louder as he focused only, only in your pleasure. Soon enough, his cum exploded inside of you. Leon cursed softly as he felt your cunt hold him, your warmth was so nice. Inviting. Leon held your face. Giving you more and more kisses around your cheeks and lips. You gasped softly, trying to catch your breath, "Leon..." You mumbled weakly.

Leon pulled out of you and his cum slide down. His heart fluttered. He should have worn a condom, but all he could do is look at your face.

Leon laughed softly again and kissed you over and over, "I'm- I'm sorry." He was even more lovable. You laughed weakly, "Stop, stop it." Leon's eyes were so bright, and it made your heart melt even more.

Your hand gently held his, sharing a small moment until you heard your parents open the door. You two attempted to fix each other up, it was fast, but the smell of sex ruined the lovely winter joy. You fixed Leon's hair, his cheeks were still red, and he was met with another kiss. "I owe you the date." Leon whispered softly. He caressed your cheek before kissing you again.

"Oh, hi," It was your dad, "Um, who is the guy?" You gently pulled away, "He's.. he's my boyfriend." Leon blushed heavily. Babysitting isn't as tough, but Leon did have to remember he accidentally forgot his job. "Um, well," Leon forced a smile, "Hi."

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re2 leon

[awesumsaus]

cave

wc: 6.5k

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

part two of pretty when I cry

summary: Ever the man of his word, your boyfriend Joel finally fulfills your need to have him claim that secret little part of you.

a/n: welcome back besties. thank you so much to everyone that checked out part one, I seriously can’t believe the response it’s gotten. again please heed the warnings and skip of you don’t think this is for you. otherwise hope y’all enjoy my absolutely depraved writing 

warnings/tags: explicit 18+ (minors dni), no outbreak au, softdom!joel, very needy/emotional reader, joel can pick reader up (I’m convinced this man could lift anyone), smut smut smut literal porn (ok a TINY bit of plot), established relationship, age gap (not really mentioned in this one), so much daddy kink, dd/lg dynamics, tiny bit of degradation kink, whole lot of praise kink, joel tummy™️, spanking, unprotected pinv, oral (m receiving), plug use, ass eating (brief), anal sex, subspace, joel is still a consent king, fluffy aftercare (these bitches are in love)

It wasn’t until two weeks later that either of you brought it up. You’d been thinking about it, that morning, admittedly far too often. The way his fingers and tongue explored the very hidden spots of your body, pushed the limit of what you can and can’t handle. But you couldn’t ask him, couldn’t be the first one to bring it up. It was the game the two of you played, you being far too shy to voice this filthy little need, and Joel far too teasing to give it up without you asking.

But it was becoming unbearable, thoughts of him arising at the most inopportune times, whether that be when you were laying in bed at home, alone while Joel was working a double shift, or at work when there were millions of other tasks you should be focusing on, but all you could think about was your boyfriend finally claiming that secret little part of you. 

And so tonight you’d decided to put an end to your suffering, devising your own little plan to set things in motion, one that you were comfortable with, and that you knew Joel wouldn’t object to. 

The two of you were getting ready, having made plans to meet Joel’s brother for dinner at 7. It was already 6:30 by the time you finished your hair, still dressed in nothing but one of Joel’s t-shirts and a lacy thong. Usually, your lateness was just a result of you losing track of time, trying to tame flyaways, or pausing to belt out one of the songs that came up on your playlist. Little did Joel know that this time around you were stalling, working up the courage to present him with your latest purchase. 

You glance over to the open vanity drawer, and a tinge of excitement spreads up your spine when you see it. A small thing, silver all except for the red heart-shaped jewel at the end of it. You reach for it, the metal cold against your fingertips, a contrast to the heat that spreads up your neck at the thought of what comes next. 

Running your hands through your hair one last time, you exit the bathroom to see Joel, fully dressed and rummaging through one of his dresser drawers. The way the fabric of his dark green sweater stretches around his broad shoulders makes your stomach flip. 

You pad over to him, hands held behind your back, clearing your throat and he turns. He immediately registers the hesitance in your movements. “I um- I got you something.” You look up at him through your lashes, putting on your most innocent guise. 

“S’ that right?” He quirks an eyebrow, already holding back a smirk. His focus turns to his wrist, snapping in place the silver band of the watch you’d gifted him this past Christmas. It was a simple thing, nothing too fancy. You would’ve gotten him something nicer, something more high-end, but the year-end bonus you’d been hoping for never came. Still, Joel insisted that it was the greatest gift he’d ever been given, bullshit, but it still put a smile on your face whenever he wore it. 

“You promise you won’t laugh?” His smirk widens. 

“Why would I laugh?”

“Just promise!” You frown at him before giving his chest a little shove, but he’s quick to respond, grabbing your wrist and pulling, closing the space between you.

“Promise.” You say it softer this time, looking up at him, ignoring the way your thighs instinctively clench from how far you have to bend your neck just to meet his gaze. 

“I promise.” He plants a kiss on your forehead, his expression softening. “I won’t laugh.”

And he doesn’t. In fact, his smirk falls completely when you reveal what’s in your free hand, extending your palm to him. He takes it from you, turning it over in his fingers, something darkens in his eyes. 

“Dirty little girl,” he says under his breath, his attention still focused on the small metal plug in his hand. He turns away from you for only a moment to grab his phone from the dresser. 

“What are you doing?”

“Textin’ Tommy that we’re gonna be late,” he says it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“No wait, I’ll be quick. I’m almost ready-“

“Uh-uh, baby.” He takes exacting steps towards you, forcing you to retreat backward, nearly falling over when your calves meet the edge of his bed. “Not goin’ anywhere yet.” He swiftly turns you, manhandling you against his chest, and dips his mouth to your ear. “Bend over.”

A shiver runs down your spine, yet you can’t ignore the heat continuing to spread across your face. “R-right now? Joel, are you serious?”

“You bet I am.” His hand comes down with a firm slap to your ass and you gasp, the arm he’s looped around your midsection keeping you from falling forward onto the bed. Wet drips from your core when he does the same to the other side. “Thought you were gonna get away with this, baby? F’ you’re gonna act like a fucking whore, I’m gonna treat you like one. Bend over.”

You shudder slightly at his words, but do as he says, slowly lowering your upper half, whining when he pushes you the last few inches, your brain already gone fuzzy from the roughness of his movements. A part of you expected this, knew that Joel wouldn’t accept your gift and just move on with the rest of the night. So it’s no surprise that when he pulls your thong to the side, your pussy is already glistening with slick. 

“Jesus, baby,” he lets out a breath behind you, running his knuckles along your seam making you shiver. “Always so fucking wet, so ready f’ me.”

“Just for you, Daddy,” you sigh against the mattress, rocking your lower half back, seeking friction. 

Joel lets out a strangled grunt from behind you, one hand squeezing your ass cheek. It’s taking everything in him not to ruin you right then and there, but he restrains himself, knowing that the two of you wouldn’t make it out the front door if he gave in. 

You suck in a breath when the cold metal presses against your cunt, slipping through your folds with ease, gathering slick. “Gonna be able to behave yourself at dinner, baby? Don’t want Tommy gettin’ suspicious.”

You whimper slightly as the tip presses into the cleft of your ass, squirming at the action and the almost belittling tone of his voice. “Don’t want him to know how much of a goddamn slut you are for me, huh?” He delivers another stinging slap just as the plug breaches your tight hole. “Answer me.”

“I-I’ll behave!” The words tumble from your mouth. “I’ll be good, daddy- p-promise.”

“I know, baby. Always such a good girl f’ me.” His words are so dizzying you don’t even realize that he’s fitted the plug completely inside of you until his knuckles graze your ass. It’s not what you had expected, not painful or uncomfortable in any way. It feels good, being this full, the slight stretch making your lower half shake with anticipation. 

“That feel okay, pretty girl?” His voice softens the same way it always does when he’s checking in with you. 

“Mhm,” you nod against the mattress, a content smile spread across your face. 

“Good. Now go get dressed ‘fore Tommy starts askin’ questions.”

He plants one last slap on your bottom, softer than the others, but the way it reverberates across your skin and through the toy now deep inside you makes you gasp, your senses now on high alert. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought.

You make it through the better part of dinner without any slip-ups, just a regular evening with your boyfriend and his brother who you’ve come to befriend over your time knowing him.

You’re barely paying attention, focused on the story Tommy is telling when Joel curves a finger through the back loop of your jeans and pulls. You choke on your water at the sudden feeling, the seam of your jeans digging into you, pressing tightly against the toy you’d nearly forgotten about at this point. Something white-hot shoots up your spine and settles in your lower belly. Tommy pauses and shoots you a worried look as you cough unexpectedly, obviously unaware of Joel’s actions. You notice Joel holding back a smirk from the corner of your eye. 

“Woah- hey, ya alright darlin’?” Tommy asks, looking to Joel who’s started patting your back softly, a forced expression of concern written across his features. It takes everything in you not to slap the look right off his face then and there. 

“I’m fine, yeah- sorry.” You try to ignore the obvious blush spreading across your cheeks, still attempting to catch your breath while also fighting against the growing heat pulsing through your core. 

“You sure, honey? You’re all flushed,” Joel says. 

“Said I’m fine,” you almost snap at Joel, immediately regretting your tone when he shoots you a warning look, a brow raised as if daring you to continue.

“Sorry, Tommy.” You turn to the younger Miller, disregarding the way Joel’s palm has started kneading the flesh of your lower back, only making your head spin more. “Please go on. I’m alright.” He looks between the two of you a bit hesitantly for only a moment before continuing his story. 

And suddenly it’s all you can think about, the feeling of the plug pressing into your most sensitive spots, the fullness of it all, only made worse by Joel’s continuous teasing, his seemingly harmless touching. 

When you finally make it to Joel’s truck after bidding Tommy goodnight, you’re an absolute mess. Practically soaked through your panties, squirming against the leather of your seat. And Joel knows, revels in it, confirmed by the shit-eating grin he exhibits the entire ride home, while his hand softly grips the plushness of your thigh, only deepening your need. 

You’re on him as soon as you pass the threshold of his front door, clawing at his chest, a rabid little thing. He appeases you almost instinctively, pushing you against the opposite wall and pinning your wrists by your head as he roughly presses his mouth to yours. You writhe against his grip, whimpering when he takes his free hand to angle your jaw upward, giving his tongue access to plunge deep into your mouth. You hook a leg around his waist, grinding against his thigh, and finally, a tiny ounce of your ache dissipates. 

But just as quickly as it started, Joel removes himself from you, turning away and walking into the living room. He plops down on the couch, kicking his shoes off and leaning back against the cushions. The look on his face is maddening, cocky son of a bitch.

“C’mere,” he says from his seat on the couch, his legs spread wide. If you weren’t so painfully desperate you’d refuse him for being so smug, but luckily for Joel, you need him about as much as you need air to breathe in this moment. 

You can’t help but eye the growing tightness in his jeans as you approach him, the sight making you a little dizzy in your movements. He stops you when you attempt to straddle him, placing a hand firmly on your lower belly, and looking up at you with a devilish smile. He toys with the hem of your shirt between his fingers. Off. It’s all the command you need before crossing your arms over your body and lifting the fabric from your torso. 

Your shirt’s not even pulled over your head before his deft fingers are unbuttoning your pants and tugging them along with your panties down to your ankles. He leans forward, gripping your calf, and helps you step out of them, popping your shoes off in the process, and quickly tosses your clothes aside. His hand travels up your leg, sending goosebumps across your bare skin. A small yelp escapes your lips when he pulls you onto his lap by the back of your thigh, but you quickly melt into him as your knees sink into the couch on either side of him. 

He runs his hands up and down your sides and you shiver. “So sensitive, baby,” he tsks. You can’t help the blush that spreads across your cheeks from your desperation. It was pathetic really, how much you need him in this moment, how much your body craved even his lightest touch. It was pathetic really, how much of your need now dripped onto his still-clothed crotch, soaking through the material. 

His hands move to cup your tits, thumbing your already peaked nipples through the thin fabric before expertly unclasping your bra, letting it fall to the floor with the rest of your clothing. You’re suddenly all too aware of how clothed Joel is, a stark contrast to your naked form, yet the image sends another wave of slick weeping from your core. You allow your head to fall forward onto his shoulder, mouthing at his sweater to muffle your cries, when he tweaks one of your nipples between his fingers. 

“Sh, I know. I’ve got you, little one.” He continues his slow torment, smoothing his hands along your bare skin, his smirk growing with each of your whines and whimpers. You’re like putty in his hands, completely at his mercy, a plaything for him to do with what he pleases. Your breath hitches when his hands travel to your ass, two of his fingers pressing lightly against the now exposed plug, sending a jolt through your whole body. 

He brings his mouth to your ear, nips at it, before whispering “You want me to fuck you here, baby?“ He says it like a secret, only for the two of you to ever hear. That’s when everything starts to ache, the feeling in your lower belly so warm and unfurling, that you fear you may start sobbing if he doesn’t end his teasing soon. 

“Please, daddy.” You sniffle into the spot connecting his neck and shoulder. “Want it so bad, please.”

“Such good manners, baby.” One of his hands slides up your back to the nape of your neck where he grips you, pulling you back to meet his gaze. “M’ gonna give you what you want, sweet girl.” Your heart rate quickens, excitement bubbling in your chest.

“But not tonight.”

And just like that your heart sinks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes at his sudden declination. You’d feel foolish for it, overly emotional if it wasn’t Joel’s lap you were sitting on. He knows how you get, how reactive you can be, especially when you have your heart set on something. You shake your head and lean away from him, your eyes casting down to your lap, shame beginning to bubble in your chest. You have the sudden urge to cover yourself, wrapping your arms around your chest, a little voice in the back of your head telling you that it’s your fault, that you’d done something wrong to make him deny you, deny himself, of this. 

“Hey,” he says it so so softly. His hands run up and down your biceps, as if he’s attempting to pull your focus from the insecurities he knows are settling in your brain “I’m not doing this to punish you, understand?” You sniffle again, a tear threatens to fall from your lower lashes. 

“Look at me,” he says sternly. You reluctantly meet his gaze. “Tell me you understand.”

You want to shake your head no, want to beg him to change his mind, whine and pout until he gives you what you want, but as much as you know Joel’s a man of his word, you also know he’s nearly impossible to sway once his mind is made up. 

“I understand.”

“Good.” 

He gives you a moment to collect yourself, thumbing your tears away and pulling you back against his chest. You unwrap your arms from yourself, instead latching them around Joel’s neck. “I’m gonna give you what you want, baby. Just gotta have some patience. Want this to be good for you.” He rubs your back soothingly, kissing your temple. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You can’t help the huff that escapes your lips at his words, because you like the hurt. Like being subject to his each and every desire, surrendered entirely to his control. Joel knows this, knew this from the first time you’d slipped and called him daddy while he fucked you into his kitchen counter, knew this when the next morning he caught you in his bathroom mirror, smiling at the finger-shaped bruises burgeoning across the flesh of your hips. 

Joel knows you like the hurt, and part of him can’t deny how utterly irresistible he finds you when you beg him to push just a little further, to be a little rougher. But he also knows where to draw the line, never inflicting enough pain to outweigh the pleasure he brings you. He’s had experience with establishing this limit, but never in past relationships had he found anyone to be as persistent as you, as stubborn, as needy. And though it isn’t always obvious, he needs you just the same. It’s what frustrates him the most, not your neediness, but the way in which it clouds his judgement, makes him forget how fragile you can be. So he wouldn’t, not tonight, not until he’s certain you won’t break. 

“Poor baby,” he coos when you grind down on his bulge, the rough fabric against your soft folds making you gasp. “I know you’re not used to being told no, huh?”

You let out a squeaking whine when you feel the rough skin of his hand cup the entirety of your sex. You instinctively buck into his touch. 

“You want daddy to take care ‘a this for you?”

“Mhm, please,” nodding your head against his chest. You almost cry when the pad of his finger finds your clit, swiping two delicate circles before pulling away. 

“Sh sh, I’ve got you, honey.” He lifts you slightly off his lap, a strangled sound erupting from your throat at the loss of contact, but he makes quick work with his zipper, pulling his pants and boxers down just enough to free his fully hardened cock, red and pulsing in his grip. 

“Come sit on daddy’s cock, baby.” His eyes glass over as he pumps his length once, twice before urging you forward. He taps the wide tip against your clit a few times and you swear you could come just from that before he’s lining up with your entrance, coating himself with your slick. 

He lets you go at your own pace, loosening his grip on your waist as you begin to sink down on him, inch by inch. He’d usually stretch you first, make you come around his fingers once or twice before letting you take him in his entirety. But not tonight, not with the steady flow of slick that’s been gushing from your heat all night. 

You shudder once he’s fully sheathed inside you, your clit twitching against his pelvis. He lets you adjust, squirm a bit in his lap, before he’s bucking up into you, a bit of his own impatience beginning to show. 

As much as you’ve needed Joel all night, you know his teasing has had its own effect on him. He’s been itching to be inside you since the moment you presented him with your little gift, it was all he could think about the entire evening, so it comes as no surprise that his movements quickly grow hurried. He fucks up into you at a frantic pace, meeting your little bounces with increasing force.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The combination of his cock pumping deep inside you and the toy sitting snug inside your asshole. It’s overwhelming, nerve endings you didn’t even know existed now buzzing within you. It’s only mere minutes before you’re clenching around him, right on the edge of release.

“Little cunt’s huggin’ me so tight, baby,” Joel pants, his movements stuttering. 

“Daddy-“ you gasp, “m’ ngh m’ gonna cum.”

“Fuck- that’s it baby,” he babbles, his fingers move to messily rub your clit. “That’s it pretty girl. Want you to cum on my cock then I’ll fill you up, yeah? So fucking full, baby. C’mon, cum for daddy.”

Your entire body convulses against him as you reach your peak, strings of curses and incoherent sounds slipping between your lips. Everything turns white behind your eyes, every inch of your skin on fire. He only fucks you harder, rubs his fingers against your clit faster. You don’t even realize you’re on the cusp of a second orgasm until he’s pressing his free hand against the heart-shaped jewel still sticking out of your ass, hitting something deep inside of you. Then you’re crashing down once more, sobbing as your grip tightens around his neck, completely enraptured in the feeling as he fucks up into you. 

“Good fuckin’ girl-“ a groan sounds from deep within his chest, a few more bucks of his hips before he cums, spilling into you with a slew of grunts and unintelligible praises. He only lets up once you’ve milked him dry, a combination of both your releases coating his length and further soaking his jeans. 

Joel comes back to earth first after he’s caught his breath and carefully pulled out of you. He stands and rids himself of his damp clothes, now just as bare you are, before wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you from the couch. 

Later, after you’re both showered and Joel makes you a cup of your favorite tea, the two of you lay in bed, your head resting against his chest, tracing a finger along the broad expanse of him. You’ve committed just about every mark and freckle to memory by now from this exact spot. His hand lazily runs up and down your spine, as you mull over where things will go from here. 

A week. You talked him into a week. A week of doing exactly as he says, with no attempting to convince him otherwise. You’ll wear the plug when he tells you to, for as long as he tells you to. A week and then he’ll divulge that secret little part of you that he’s yet to claim. 

Joel lasts till Thursday. 

He’s done for the moment he arrives home from work to you sprawled across his bed, book in hand, with nothing on but a tight-fitting t-shirt and a barely-there thong. You knew what you were doing, knew it was exactly what Joel told you not to do, tempting him to go back on his word and cave. You notice his eyes darken the moment he enters the bedroom, his gaze falling to the red heart poking through the fabric of your panties. The same one he stuffed inside you before sending you off to work this morning, the one you were sorely reminded of every time you shifted too quickly in your desk chair. 

“Hey baby,” you smile sweetly at him. You swear you hear him grumble as he makes his way to the closet, pulling his sweaty work shirt off and tossing it into the hamper. You mark your page and set your book aside before stretching out across the comforter like a cat in the sun. The muscles in Joel’s shoulders tense when a soft sigh slips from your lips. 

You nearly skip over to him, wrapping your arms around his midsection before he has the chance to pull on a clean shirt. He lets out a heavy breath at the feeling of your small fingers splaying across his bare stomach. 

“How was your day?” you ask, pressing against him more firmly, your head resting below his shoulder blades. 

“Fine,” he responds, his tone suspecting. You feel his breath catch as you press small kisses to his spine. 

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today,” your voice goes softer, a hidden plea behind your words. 

“S’ that right?” His severity wanes, an opening.

“Mhm,” you hum against him, dragging your blunt nails across his skin. “Need you so bad, Daddy.”

“‘M right here, baby.” He pretends to not know what you’re talking about, unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops, acting like your fingers aren’t dangerously close to the waistband of his jeans. You know he can see right through you, has always seen right through you, his refusal to admit it in this moment only makes your need deepen. 

“Please, Joel,” you whine softly, errant fingertips dipping just below the waistband of his boxers. “I almost started touching myself in the bathroom today.” Your cheeks flush red at the confession, a low groan escapes Joel’s throat. “Every time I felt it, I couldn't stop thinking about how much I wish it was your co-“

You let out a small gasp when he snatches your wrist. He pauses, so still you begin to worry you’ve upset him, that you’ve pushed him too far. But then something shifts. 

Fuck it. His mouth is on you in seconds, his tongue immediately gaining access as you melt into him. It’s dizzying, one of his hands grabbing you just below your jaw, the other squeezing your ass cheek roughly. Your knees buckle just as he’s turning you around and practically throwing you onto the bed. You don’t even have time to lift your head off the mattress before he’s yanking your panties over your ass and easing the plug out of your hole. He’s quick with it, your body shivering as the cool metal slides through you, leaving an empty feeling in its wake, but it doesn’t last for long as Joel licks a broad strip through your seam to your asshole. He presses his tongue there, gauging your reaction before he’s licking into you, spreading you with his hands. At first, you squirm away, the feeling of him eating at you like this entirely foreign. But then you're rocking back into him, completely lost in the rush of his mouth against your asshole. Sounds you never knew yourself capable of filling the room as his tongue repeatedly dives into the ring of muscle.

A strangled moan leaves your lips when he pauses, you crane your neck just in time to see a string of saliva drip from his mouth directly between your ass cheeks. He rubs it into you, pushing his thumb through the ring of muscle making you whimper. 

“What d’you want?” His voice is low. His thumb starts pumping in and out of you, fast and unrelenting. 

“Daddy,” you whine, burying your burning-hot cheeks into his pillow. 

“Gonna need better than that,” he tsks, rutting his bulge into your heat. “Or else I’ll have t’ take care a’ this myself. Tie you up and make you watch.”

“Ngh, Daddy,” you moan, face burning impossibly warmer. His thumb slows, giving you a moment of reprieve to gather your thoughts. 

“Want you t’ fuck my ass- wanna feel you.”

“Jesus-“ With his hand coming down to grip your neck, he suddenly pins you to the mattress, muttering a short stay before you feel his weight lift from the bed. You hear the sound of his zipper undoing and catch him fisting himself in the corner of your eye. Your thighs tremble with anticipation as he moves to the side of the bed, planting a knee by your shoulder. Then he’s towering over you, his weeping cock right at your eye line, your cheek still pushed against the mattress, ass in the air. He looks so powerful like this, so broad and so commanding, so when he tells you to open your mouth, you don’t even have to think twice. 

“Gonna get daddy’s dick nice n’ wet, baby.” Saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to drip onto the bed when you stick your tongue out. “Then ‘m gonna wedge my cock in this tight little hole. How’s that sound?” You jolt forward when the pad of his index finger pushes into you.

“Please Daddy,” you whine. He removes his hand, immediately wrapping it around the back of your skull, his fingers tangled in your hair. His other hand grips the base of his length, tapping the red-flushed tip on your tongue a few times before pushing all the way into your mouth in one swift motion, your nose scratching against the coarse hairs at his pelvis. It had taken you months to work up to it, taking him in his entirety. The first time you blew him you’d barely been able to make it halfway down his cock before you were gagging, but not now. Now you take everything he gives you, like he’s molded your throat to the shape of him. 

“This mouth-“ he’s cut off by his own moans, erupting from deep within his chest. “Fuckin’ heaven, baby.”

Tears quickly prick in the corners of your eyes as he continues his assault on your throat. A breathy moan slips from his mouth when you gag around his length after an especially forceful thrust of his hips.

His pace slows as he thumbs away your tears. “Daddy’s been so mean, huh little one? Makin’ you wait all this time.”

You whine around his dick, the vibrations making Joel’s breath catch in the back of his throat. 

“You like when I’m mean though, don’t you? Like when daddy treats you like the little slut you are?” He delivers a harsh smack to your ass just as he pulls away from your mouth, leaving you sputtering and gasping for air. He moves to open the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a bottle of lube before rounding the corner of the bed, towering over you from behind. 

“Don’t need it,” you whine, head still foggy from the lack of oxygen.

“Quiet little girl.” He softly swats your ass before you hear the disappointing sound of the bottle opening, followed by the cool sensation of the liquid hitting your exposed hole. He rubs it into you, letting out a satisfied hum when he presses his thumb into your asshole with ease. And then his cock is lining up with you, it��s so fucking big, so much bigger than the plug, a small part of you starts to worry it may not fit, may be too painful. 

Like always, Joel senses your apprehension, running his large palm soothingly down your spine as he leans over you. You feel his warm breath hit your ear. 

“You tell me if it’s too much, yeah baby?” He says it only slightly above a whisper. “M’ only gonna enjoy this if you do too.”

You nod against the sheets, immediately recognizing that the action won’t be enough for Joel. “Yes, Daddy.” You crane your neck to look at him, eyes hooded and dazed. Something flashes in his expression, beyond simple desire, a need suddenly so evident in his eyes that you’d sit up and kiss him until your lips were raw if he wasn’t pushing the tip of his thick cock inside you. 

It’s so much. Even just the first inch is blinding, your vision going blurred and your senses entirely rapt with the feeling. The hurt is overwhelming, the stretch all-consuming, but it’s so good, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

He pushes in another inch and the pain dissipates, in its place a euphoric haze, where all you can feel is him, his weight driving you into the mattress, his hips rocking against your ass. You see stars once he’s fitted inside you, never having felt this full. 

The noises Joel is making are almost pained, his cock throbbing from the tightness of your hole, all the restraint left in him keeping him from setting a brutal pace. No, instead he moves slow, focused intently on not blowing his load every time you squeeze around him, listening to your little moans and whimpers for any signs of unease. 

“It’s a lot baby, I know,” he pants. “But you’re doin’ so good.” His praises have you reeling, furthering your dazed state. “Look so goddamn perfect takin’ all a’ me like this.”

You don’t even know what to say, all you know is that you need more, entirely lost in the feeling. You’re always insatiable, greedy, whenever it comes to Joel, and he knows, revels in the fact that he’s the one that gets to have you like this, makes you feel like this. 

You’re not even sure what you’re saying at this point, what sounds are falling from your mouth, just that Joel takes it as a sign to pick up his pace. It brings you back to earth a bit, your lower belly going taught at the force of his body against your own. 

You’re crying out against the mattress, small fingers twisting in the sheets, tears forming a wet spot beneath your chin. 

“Fuck, baby c’mere.” He suddenly pulls out of you with a heady groan and wastes no time flipping you over. He’s pushing back inside you in seconds, resuming his vigorous pace. 

“Wanna see you when I come in this perfect fuckin’ ass.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his words, your entire body going limp against the mattress as he uses you. When his thumb finds your clit you’re done for. The messy circles he makes send you hurtling right to the edge. With a near-scream, every part of your body goes taut for a moment before your release is shattering through every inch of your body, bursting from your core like shock waves. 

“Fuck, fuck-“ he’s repeating over and over as his own climax hits him, but you can’t even hear him, can only feel him, his body thrusting into you, pushing you impossibly further into the mattress, his hands gripping the hinge of your hips, his warm release shooting deep inside you. It’s the only thing keeping you here, prevailing against the potent haze. 

With one final grunt, he stills, his breathing ragged and sweat dripping from his forehead. You can barely move, still dazed as he pulls out of you slowly, the emptiness in its wake further graying your awareness of reality. 

You lift a shaking hand, attempting to grab at whatever part of him you can reach. “Daddy-“

He leans forward, carefully caging you in his arms. “I’m here baby, you’re okay.”

“‘M okay,” you mumble sweetly. He brings one of his hands to your hair, gently running his fingers along your scalp in a way that makes your thoughts even more fuzzy. But the heaviness of his chest against your own keeps you there, keeps you present. 

“You did so good f’ me, I’m so proud a’ you.” A tired smile spreads across your face at his words. He knows the effect they have on you, which is probably why he says it. But the sincerity in his voice makes your heart swell. 

“My pretty baby,” he kisses you softly, and you further melt into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent, musky and woody with something distinctly Joel. The two of you stay like this for a moment, your arms and legs wrapped around his large form, what little remains of your strength focused on keeping him in place, chest to chest, a comforting pressure. 

“How do you feel, baby? You hurtin’ anywhere?” He says it against your neck, placing soft kisses to the skin there. 

“Mm”, you hum, denying, still detached from your own body, not fully registering the slight tinges of hurt spreading throughout your lower half, completely consumed with the man in front of you, the smell of his sweat still glistening across his chest, the weight of his softened cock still pulsing and twitching against your thigh. He’s everywhere, everything in this moment. 

He pulls away just enough to kiss the tip of your nose. “How ‘bout a bath yeah?” You hum in agreement, let him unwrap himself from your hold, and stand at the edge of the bed before he’s snaking an arm under your knees and back and lifting you. You instinctively curl your face into his neck, still wet with sweat but you don’t mind, nearly your whole body already covered in him. 

He sets you down on the toilet seat before moving to turn the water on, making sure it’s warm enough before plugging the drain. You sway a bit in place, thankful when Joel wraps an arm around your back to steady you. Usually by now the haze will have lifted a bit, no longer in this headspace, yet still your brain is a bit fuzzy, your thoughts and senses dulled. 

You look up at Joel when you feel his thick fingers card through your hair, unsure of when he’d gone to grab one of your hair elastics. As he gathers the strands together, you lean into him, your head resting just below his belly button, on the plush flesh of his tummy, smattered with course hairs trailing down to the base of his cock. You nuzzle into the spot, breathing him in, fully content in this moment. You feel the muscle tighten when you start to press small kisses to it. He firmly grips your now fully formed ponytail when your mouth wanders south, interrupting your descent, and you whine. 

“Settle.” You let out a short huff of breath and bring your gaze to his, resting your chin on his stomach as he loosens his grip on your hair. He shakes his head at you, holding back a smile as he finishes tying your hair back. 

He helps you step into the tub first, guiding you to sit, before he slots himself behind you with a grunt. He pulls you against him, arms wrapped around your tummy and chin resting on your shoulder. You giggle softly when the hairs of his mustache tickle behind your ear. 

He lets you sit against him for a moment before he insists on cleaning you up, lathering his soap between his hands and smoothing it along your soft skin. You start to doze off from the feeling, Joel keeping you upright against his chest. Only after the water begins to cool and your fingertips have turned pruney, Joel helps you step out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel before you start to shiver. He kisses you then, soft and slow like he could stay like this with you forever. And you would, if he wasn’t ushering you back into the bedroom, telling you to get in bed and that he’d be right back. 

He makes you drink a glass of water before taking his place behind you on the bed, his back to the headboard and the small bowl of your skull cradled against his chest. You slowly drift off to the steady beat of his heart. 

I have so many ideas for these two so lmk if we want to see more ;]

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #pedro pascal characters #joel miller au #tlou au #joel miller fanfiction #part two

[luveline]

Hi babe! Not sure how you feel about writing ab parents so feel free to ignore, but had an idea for kbd au if Steve’s parents tried to contact him/get into their lives and he’s all like stay away from my kids

kisses before dinner —steve has a tense relationship with his parents. mom!reader, 1.5k

The girls haven't seen their grandparents for… a while. 

Steve's dad always has something to say about his life. How he's thrown everything away being a stay at home dad, or how idiotic it was to stay with you. The latter was enough for Steve to want to cut contact initially, but you convinced him not to do it on your behalf. 

Steve, pretty much everyone we knew thought I was baby trapping you, you'd said. 

Well, he'd said, attempting to lighten the mood, little do they know I baby trapped you. 

Damn. Wanna do it again?

So it was funny. His parents didn't like you but they hardly liked him, he didn't mind —he was so fucking angry because who the fuck did they think they were, how could they look at you and not love you, you, in what world was it possible?— and he put up with their passive aggressive Christmas cards and their sparing visits, but then his mom took it too far. 

He can remember it word for word. “Beth, honey,” his mom had said, her nose stuck in its permanent wrinkle, “why are you eating it like that? What do your friends at school think?” 

“Mom, don't,” Steve had butt in. Beth didn't even go to school at that point. 

“She's such a weird kid,” she said, shaking her head. 

Some could argue it was fond or that she didn't mean anything by it, Bethie is very unique sometimes, but Beth turned her face to her dad with crestfallen eyes, as heartbroken as Steve had ever seen her before, and asked, “I'm weird?” 

Steve doesn't remember the last time he spoke to his mom. A year ago at least. 

He does miss her. But he doesn't really know her, never has, and he'd choose Beth over her without a thought. It would take a hundredth of a millisecond to decide. 

That's why seeing her is a shock. He's going to see her, they live in the same town —you bumped into her a few weeks ago and had to give her the rundown. Everyone's okay. Yeah, we had another baby, she's doing great. 

Steve had blown up at her. The girls had never seen him that angry in their lives and they haven't seen it since, and the gap is impassable. 

Or so he thinks. 

“Steve!” He tenses up. “Steve, honey!” 

He can't decide what to do. He can't exactly run away; Bethie and Dove sit knee to knee in the shopping cart, Avery has her hand in his pocket, and Wren is strapped to his chest. Running would leave at least one girl behind, and where would he go? The frozen food aisle?

“Oh, it's grandma,” Avery says. “She looks… old.” 

“She is old,” he says, turning reluctantly on the spot to watch his mother rush past a stack of cans of carrots. “She's ancient.” 

“Steve, baby.” His mom stops in front of him, more flustered than he knew she could get back, struggling to maintain a sense of casualness. “How are you? Girls? It's been so long.” 

Steve doesn't have an inkling of an idea of what to say. He's not mad anymore, but he knows she'll never change, and he knows that your family is a hundred times happier without worrying what grandma and grandpa think of you. “We're perfect,” he says. 

“And this is baby Wren?” 

Steve grimaces. “Yeah, this is Wren.” 

She's only three months old but she has a good weight to her, and she's brilliantly healthy. She blinks at the woman in front of her without recognition, her dark lashes a thick hedging. She's a beautiful baby. 

“She looks like you again, Steve.” 

“Yeah, my girl's good at having babies, but she hasn't mastered the mixing process,” he jokes without thinking. Love for you falls off the tongue. 

His mother has the sense to make herself laugh. “Where is Y/N?” she asks. 

“Mom went back to get milk!” Avery says. 

“Yeah? And how are you, sweetie?” 

Steve clears his throat. He understands what she's trying to do, but he remembers Beth's crushed face and he can't abide this shit again. I let you let me believe I wasn't good enough, he'd said, he'd shouted, his voice hoarse with it as you pulled him back by the arm, but I will not let you do it to them. It's not happening, mom, I won't let it. 

“Steven…” 

“Mom, we have to get going.” 

“I said I was sorry,” she says. 

“But you weren't.”

“Steve–” She doesn't look a thing like her son beside the similar way they begin to cry, that frown, “Please, I know I'm not perfect, we don't have to pretend I've– I'll hold my tongue. I just want to see my grandkids. I've never even held her.” 

Steve covers the back of Wren's head with his hand, her baby hair soft as down. The girls are being remarkably quiet, beside Dove, who's whispering, “Who is that?” to Bethie in her clumsy toddler drawl. 

“That's gran'ma,” she whispers back. 

Steve's mom is, at the end of the day, their grandma. And she sucks and she doesn't deserve anymore chances, and the girls are better off without her for the majority, but… 

Steve screws his eyes shut. Don't make me regret this, he thinks. 

“I just want to speak to them,” she says. 

“Alright,” he says quietly, covering Wren's ear. “Alright, mom, fine, but this is it. This is your chance. If you ever upset or insult one of my kids again, we're done. We will never, ever speak again. You won't see them, and you won't see me. I'm serious.” 

“I'm sorry,” she says again. 

“Fine.” He pulls the strap off of Wren's harness and shushes her gently as she protests, lifting her out of his arms into his mom's. She doesn't have time to decide if she's ready. This is how it's going to be. “Her head.” 

“I know how to hold a baby,” she says. 

You come around the aisle slowly, a little wince to your step, some residual tightness in your hips as you recover postpartum, but the frown you wear slips into surprise. “Terri?” 

You save Steve and take the reins, suffering a conversation on your pregnancy, birth, and Wren's first weeks of life as Steve takes a breath. His heart races, adrenaline and a sticky, icky feeling in his chest as he watches his mom. He doesn't know if he's doing the right thing. His arms ache to steal Wren back. 

It ends in an invitation for dinner. Whenever you're free, whatever you want, Steve's mom offers. 

He's glad to see the back of her. 

You put the milk carton in the cart and touch his elbow. “You okay?” He hums. Your hand moves up to his face, cupping his cheek. “She makes you so mad, sweetheart. Do you need a moment?” 

“I think I'm pissed because…” He glances down at Wren, who's happier now she's in familiar hands. “I didn't realise she was a shitty mom. I knew we didn't get along, the same with my dad, but I didn't know…” He sighs. 

“It's okay,” you say, giving him a gentle squeeze before Dove demands you pick her up. You do it unthinkingly, and that's why he's mad. 

“I know what a good mother looks like,” he says. “I know how hard it is. And I know she didn't even try.” 

You're all sympathy, looking like you wanna wrap him up in a cuddle in the middle of the grocery store. “You deserved better. It makes me angry too.” 

“Are we going to dinner?” Beth asks. 

“What, with grandma?” Avery asks. 

“Not right now,” Steve says. 

“Good,” Dove says decidedly, wrapping her arms around your neck to hug you, squishing your cheeks together. “Cocoa?” 

“Cocoa? You want hot cocoa?” you ask, pleased. 

It breaks his heart thinking about himself as a kid. He knows there weren't any moments like this, no soft touches or sweet treats that weren't begged for. You don't even think about saying no. 

“And marshmallows,” you croon, rubbing the little space between her shoulders. “And we'll have to get a cinnamon roll too, for your sister. How does that sound, Beth?” 

Beth doesn't like hot cocoa but she loves cinnamon rolls, and she nods her head exuberantly. As quick as that, the girls forget their grandma's interruption, and Steve tries his best to put it out of his mind. Family is messy, and it's harder now he has to make decisions for all of them, but he has you. His support beam, his sweetheart, you put Dove on your hip and sew your arm loosely through his. Tonight he'll talk your ear off about things you know already. You'll listen without complaint, stroking his hair back from his forehead if you have a free hand. His family growing up wasn't worth calling a family half the time, just three people connected by blood and a shared house, but the family he has today takes the cake. There's no competition. 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[barcalover86]

Fluff Pablito 3

Fluff Pablito Masterlist

Summary: He missed you a lot, and he gets really kissable.

You absolutely adored when he was clingy with you because your love language was physically touch, and you were all the time craving for him.

When he would get all needy, he would always touch you somehow, and you loved that.

Now, that you just arrived in Sevilla after spending Christmas and New Year Eve with your family, you two both missed eachother a lot.

You were so happy that you two shared the same language, making it easier to express your love to one another.

Ever since you entered his house, he would be all over you.

He wasn't ashamed that his family would see his big affection towards you, like other times. Right now, he was craving for your touch.. but in a sweet and gentle way. Just like you loved.

"I missed you so much." he said in your left ear, making your body shiver while you were helping his mom make dinner.

You then turned around to face him.

"After we eat, can we please cuddle?" he, as well asked, with a soft expression on his face.

You nodded.

After dinner, he would be all over you, kissing your face and lips.

He didn't forget to tickle you, which he loved, because he could hear you beautiful laugh.

"Pleass, stop!" you begged.

You started to laugh harder until he stopped.

"You know that people can die because of laughter, right?"

His face got all serious, and you started to chuckle at his facial expression.

"Then I'll stop, because I can't imagine my life without you." he said, being really serious. It was so sweet of him.

"I love you, my boy."

While kissing him, you felt his lips turn into a big smile.

"Why are you smiling?"

He wanted to reply but started to smile even more.

"What?? Tell mee."

"I'm just happy." he started. "You make me happy."

"Ohh, stop that, you are going to make me blush." you said it in a childish tone.

He then started again to kiss you all over your face, before putting his head on your chest.

Now it was already dark outside, and you were waiting for some football game to start.

Until then, you quickly headed down into the kitchen to bring some snacks and when you came back, Gavi opened his arms for you.

Without any doubt, you hugged him back, laying on top of him, waiting to comment on how bad the footballers were playing.

He kissed your forehead, whispering sweet things in your ear.

"I love you, mi chica."

#fc barca #fc barcelona #football #pablo gavi #pablo gavira #pablo martín páez gavira #gavi #gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi x yn #gavi x you #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x you

[jo-harrington]

You don't have time for Christmas.

Work and home and this friend in a crisis.

Work and home and, let's be honest, probably work again.

And before you know it, it's December 20th and you don't even have any decorations up. Barely anyone does. The neighborhoods that are usually lit up with lights and figurines enough to rival the Griswolds are noticably dark this year.

What holiday? What festivity? It's wake up and hustle and lay in bed in a dreamless sleep. Then wake up to do it all again.

You are a cog in a machine.

You don't know how to voice these things, your displeasure, the secret yearning for the pomp and circumstance and childhood whimsy for the holiday season that's tucked somewhere deep inside your weary body. You can't bring yourself to indulge in it.

You're tired.

You glance down the card aisle at the grocery store but don't stop to grab any for friends. You pick up a bag of peanut butter bells for your candy jar at work but then second guess it at the checkout. Gifts are bought with as much care as you could, but you can't even bother to wrap them as prettily as you usually would.

You can try again for Valentine's. Chocolate hearts with the crispy rice inside and roses for your coworkers. Something.

But this year, you don't have time for Christmas.

And he notices.

It starts with cookies.

He likes to bake--started with boxed cake mix and then you bought him a handheld torch one year so he could try his hand at creme brûlée after he watched a little too much Jacques Pepin on PBS--so it's not anything suspicious. No ulterior motives detected.

Only he's dug up the little handwritten notebook full of your grandma's favorite recipes. Grandpa's handwriting because he wrote it while she dictated. Cookies he's never tasted before himself but seemed to have nailed exactly the way she made them. The love he poured into the treats matched hers exactly.

He brings you a plate and a cup of cocoa when you come home and collapse on the couch.

You cry when you eat them. And he lets you.

Then he digs out the tree from the garage.

The one-car garage that you pay extra for doesn't fit either of your vehicles but fits all your crap. You both vow to clean up at some point and never do. He slogs through the boxes of old band tees that don't fit him and kitchen crap that you don't miss or really need, to get to the plastic 6 ft tree that used to have stickers to note which bough went in what slot but those are long gone.

He spends hours figuring it out and decorating it, and imagine your surprise when you come home to an otherwise-dark apartment illuminated by the fat, colorful incandescent bulbs that you're sure he spent a significant amount of time untangling. You'd both given up last year and went without lights. But there they are.

"What?" you drop your bag by the door. "What is this?"

"I dunno," he grins proudly. "Thought it would be nice. Get in the Christmas spirit. Saved the star for you to put on top if you want."

And you did. You wanted it so bad. Ever since you were a kid, you were the one to put the star on top of the tree.

After it's up, you marvel at the special care he's taken with the important ornaments. Fragile little wooden ones from your grandma, popsicle stick frames with baby pictures of both of you, a macaroni snowman that he gave his mom once-upon-a-time that his uncle had stashed away, and then a fancy hallmark one you got the year you moved in together.

They all have special places on the tree and tell a story of your lives, separate and then together.

You both lay under the tree that night, staring up at the glittering lights as you hold hands.

Finally it's Christmas Eve. Which to him really meant nothing, but to you meant the world. Christmas Days were spent with individual families but Christmas Eves of old meant a big dinner and time spent with your cousins and It's a Wonderful Life on the TV.

It's a tradition that got put to the wayside as everyone got too old and too tired. As you started getting scheduled to work, like this year. And it's almost worse this year, as you've done a stretch of you-can't-remember-how-many days, that you even turned down an invitation for the two of you from your mom for a small dinner with her.

You're exhausted by the time you get home and, more than anything, you're looking forward to the day off tomorrow.

Not the holiday. The day off.

Still, you remember to bring in the handful of gifts from their hiding place in your trunk. You don't really do gifts between the two of you anymore. Nothing big at least. Just a cheesy little thing. Something fun, not something serious. But you did a little more this year than you usually would--all of the OT you'd clocked for one, and too many things you saw that you knew would make him smile for another.

You try to tip toe into the house as quietly as possible so you can throw the boxes under the tree and shower but he's vigilant. He's been at the stove cooking for a while, and he greets you at the door as you shut it behind you.

"I thought we said no big gifts," he admonishes you and snatches the boxes from your hands. The wrapping paper isn't festive--just brown craft paper you stole borrowed from work since you wrapped on your lunch--but you managed to slap on some red and green bows from the drugstore that you grabbed the other day.

"They're not big," you explained. "I promise."

"Well neither are mine," he winked.

You slap a hand against his chest and then give him a kiss in greeting and thanks.

"One better be the RC racer I wanted when I was nine," he mutters against your lips.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to wait," you tell him. "And no shaking the boxes.

You're almost a little ticked off'; one of them is the RC racer.

You kick off your shoes as the smell finally hits you.

Dinner.

Thick and savory and fragrant.

Some kind of fish and roasted potatoes and the starchiness of a pasta and the tang of its sauce.

Recipes, again, taken from your grandma's little notebook. They stir something deep inside of you. That yearning you never voiced.

The weariness that's been slowly building within you finally comes to a head when you make it to the kitchen and see the pots and pans and two plates already portioned out.

An ice cold beer for him, and a Shirley temple, extra cherries, for you.

"Remember when you told me," he comes up behind you and his arms snake around your midsection, "that you and your cousins would sneak extra maraschino cherries from the fridge when your gram wasn't looking. And then she went to go get them for the pistachio salad and they were gone."

Your knees shake and you practically collapse against him.

"Speaking of which, there is a pistachio salad in the fridge for dessert."

"Why?" you sniff.

"Because that's actually my favorite, so sorry to your grandma's tiramisu." He pecks a kiss to the side of your head and rocks you back and forth. "But if you want to make that for New Year's Eve, I won't say no."

"No," you let out a watery laugh. "Why are you so good to me, why did you do all of this?"

"Because I know it's been a hard few weeks. Few months." You can feel him shrug. "Fuck, it's been hard for me too but...I know this is one of your favorite parts of the year and you just...haven't been in the spirit for it. So whatever I could do to make it happen for you..."

You turn in his arms and bury your face in his shoulder, in his neck, so he doesn't see your tears. Again. Worse this time as you begin to shake from your sobs. He shushes you, runs a hand over your back, and leaves kiss after kiss against your head.

"Baby, I'll do anything for you," he tells you, voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you whine against his skin. "I'm so...so happy."

"Good."

"Thank you," you repeat it over and over again until it feels like you're empty of all the void and indifference that have filled you for the past few months are gone. In their place just...love and gratitude for him.

"Merry Christmas baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Merry Christmas."

#Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #it honestly could be anyone but it's him #christmas fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic

[jaehunnyy]

Seonghwa headcanons - He needs a partner for the family dinner

Genre: fake dating, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

Word count: 1k

Pairing: Seonghwa x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of a forced relationship, kissing, time skip, a shitty ex, possible grammar mistakes

a/n: happy belated birthday to my love @starrysvn! i hope you will accept this gift from your secret santa; im sorry it took quite a lot and ik it might be a bit rusty, but i made it with love so i hope you will enjoy it 🤍❄️

☆ To say Seonghwa was stressed was an understatement—the boy was devastated the moment his lover (better said, ex) broke up with him, right before the Christmas dinner they planned with his family. 

☆ There he found himself, trapped in the dirty abyss of overthinking as he tried to find a way to make it through—though it seemed quite impossible. 

☆ All the people who could have possibly helped him have already left to the comfort of their homes, leaving him alone in the campus; or so he thought, before an idea snapped through his pretty head.

☆ He knew from a friend that Y/n was never leaving for Christmas due to how far they lived, so that meant that maybe they were still around the campus; and as bad as he felt for having to ask you this as you didn’t really know lots about each other (you were simple acquaintances due to some common friends you two shared), he decided that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

☆ He had always admired your beautiful soul and your bright eyes, but his ex didn’t really let him approach you due to the unnecessary possessiveness they felt over Seonghwa (and still, they had the heart to leave him). 

☆ You were throwing a little concert in your room, dancing and singing quite loudly to try and make your holidays a bit more interesting; little did you know they were about to be the most interesting ones in a while. 

☆ You heard a knock on your door, wondering who the person who dared to bother you from your daily routine was—and as soon as you saw a halo of blonde, ravished hair in front of you, you started to get more curious. 

“Seonghwa? Shouldn’t you be home since like—a day ago?” 

☆ The boy shrugged, an innocent, playful smile stretching the corners of his lips, stars beaming at his beautiful, dark eyes. 

“Change of plans? Kind of spontaneous? Are you in for a challenge?” 

☆ His giggles filled the hallway with so much joy, that despite knowing there weren’t people around, you pushed him inside your room like you were scared to get caught in the middle of a dirty act. 

“Did you drink?” 

“Just a shot—for courage, you know.” 

☆ His warm smile flashed before your eyes again, and you were kind of invested in hearing the challenge. 

☆ You had a tiiiiiny, silly crush on him, mayhaps—cause his beautiful smile and warm persona absolutely didn’t go unnoticed by you; though you were still in your denial phase. 

☆ You gesture that he could start telling you his dramatic story, so he began to tell you about the partner who left him brokenhearted right before the holidays, and how he needed someone to go home with, as promised to his parents. 

“Can’t you just tell them the truth? Things would get pretty nasty if they found out you lied to them.”  

☆ Truth is, Seonghwa just wanted to prove himself capable in front of his family for once; he had two months to bring someone home and present them to his family, otherwise they would just throw him in the claws of a person he didn’t know—for business proposals. 

“Please, just consider it. I need you, please. You are my last escape.” 

☆ Maybe considering it didn’t sound too bad, regarding your current situation—you wanted to spice up your own holiday, so would you prefer drinking and staying on your campus, eating ice cream alone for the New Year, or pretending to love a very handsome guy and have a bit of fun? 

☆ The latter surely sounded like the best option. 

☆ As for the acting? You weren’t scared; you were quite sure someone who can’t read through their son’s own needs and preferences won’t be able to see behind your fake heart eyes (maybe they weren’t even that fake, to start with). 

“So, when are we leaving?” 

The tall guy jumped in happiness, giving you a discreet hug before giving you more information as an impulse for you to pack faster. 

☆ His house was as cozy as it could be, the beautiful, warm Christmas lights making you feel all fuzzy inside—you missed your own home. 

☆ His parents seemed like good people (despite trying to set him off with a random someone, claiming it was for his good), and you could see where their son got his genes from; they were absolutely gorgeous. 

☆ You couldn’t help but cringe a bit when his dad took your hand into his and kissed it, happy to finally meet his son’s (fake) partner; yet it all went away when Seonghwa held your other hand comfortingly, giving you the boost of confidence that you needed. 

☆ His mom was looking as if she knew that something was going on, a pretty smile plastered on her face while looking at the two of you. 

☆ The rest of the night went smooth, full of little chatters and chortles as you found them effortlessly funny; but also full of little timid glances shared between you and your fake boyfriend.

“How much time do you think they need until they fall in love completely?” 

☆ His mom asked his father, laughing while watching the two of you sip your hot choccies in front of the fireplace. 

“They will surely realize how real their fake situationship is quickly.”  

☆ His family adored you so much that Seonghwa started to believe his real partner would have messed everything up—so he took having you by his side as a sign. 

“3, 2, 1, Happy New Year!” 

☆ The loud, happy cheers of everyone around you resonated through your ears as the fireworks bloomed into the beautiful night sky. 

☆ You looked in Seonghwa’s direction, just to see him already looking back at you—plump lips slightly parted and eyes focused on your own. 

“Is this the moment where we kiss?” 

☆ He giggled, cupping your face and nodding at your bold words. 

☆ He pressed his soft lips on yours, and you felt like they were made just for you—like Cupid’s final touch to the red string attached to your souls.  

“Is it too soon to say I don’t want this to be fake anymore?” 

“Kiss me one more time and you will find out.” 

☆ Seems like you found your second home, in the arms of the not-so-fake partner of yours.

#cromernet #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez headcanons #seonghwa headcanons #ateez fluff #seonghwa fluff #park seonghwa x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #seonghwa imagines #park seonghwa ateez #kpop fluff #kpop ff #kpop headcanons

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

can i request a conrad fisher fic with ‘santa doesn’t know you like i do’ by sabrina carpenter? thank u smsm i love ur writing

I've been loving Sabrina Carpenter at the moment, thank you for the idea anon <3 It fits right with an idea I had in my list!

Warnings: mention of losing a parent (Susannah)

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Dressed in a red sweater and sparkly skirt, you were about to head to your aunt’s house for Christmas dinner. But just as you were reaching for your coat, you saw Jeremiah’s name on your phone screen. A frown formed between your eyebrows as you answered. 

‘’Hello?’’

‘’Are you with Conrad?’’ 

He sounded worried through the phone. You could feel the prayer for a positive answer in his voice, which made your frown deepen. 

‘’No. Why?’’ 

‘’He didn’t come home. He said he would. He promised Dad— He’s not answering my texts or picking up my calls.’’  

‘’Maybe he got held back at college because of the snow?’’

Jeremiah denied that supposition. ‘’I don’t think so. I called his roommate at Brown and he said he left last night.’’

‘’Maybe he went to Laurel’s? He’s talked about going to Pennsylvania this winter break.’’ 

‘’I already called her. We don’t know where he is. He hasn’t talked to anyone in the last few weeks. You’re the only one he talks to. That’s why I thought he might have been with you.’’ 

A heavy pause hung in the air as you recalled your and Conrad’s last conversations, trying to find a clue of where he was. He talked about finals and living off coffee and cup-o-noodles and how excited he was to eat a home-cooked meal, even if it was mashed potatoes or chicken that wasn’t in a nugget form. The sweater he got Jeremiah for Christmas. His roommate. His mom and the bike he got her last Christmas. It’s still in the garage, at the exact place she left it. 

‘’I think I might know where he is,’’ you said. 

It was a wild guess, but it was Conrad’s comfort place. 

‘’Where?’’ Jeremiah's urgency echoed through the phone.

You shook your head although he couldn’t see. ‘’I’m sorry Jeremiah, but I think it’s best if I go by myself. I’ll call you when I get there.’’ 

⁂

Armed with your double espresso, you braved through the snowy roads and drove to Cousins. It was a wild guess, but you were confident enough that he was there. It was the place he went to every time he wanted to be with his mom again. That house was Susannah all over. She had handpicked everything that was inside, painted all the paintings on the walls, and placed every little trinket just the way she wanted. 

Your family was disappointed that you had to cancel dinner at the last minute, but if Conrad was at the beach house, you couldn’t leave him alone. No one should spend Christmas alone. Especially not after losing a parent. 

Propped and clipped to your car’s air vents, your phone screen showed several texts from Jeremiah, all trying to get more information about Conrad. You ignored them all and focussed on the road and taking the right directions. 

After three hours, you finally arrived to Cousins. The small town was dark. Most small shops were closed — it was almost 11pm —, barely any houses were decorated for Christmas as most residents only came for the summer. 

You pulled in the familiar driveway and parked your car. A light layer of snow coated the grounds, allowing the grass to peek through. The air was crisp, and you could see your breath as you walked up to the porch. 

Using the spare key that was hidden under the doormat, you unlocked the door and let yourself in. It was dark and cold as the power was not turned on outside the summer months. The air was a bit stale too from being inhabited. 

As you ventured further into the entryway, you could see light coming from the living room — the fireplace. Using that light to guide you, you called Conrad’s name. He had to be there. If he wasn’t, someone else was in the Fishers’ beach house.

The tension in your shoulders dropped when you saw him asleep on the couch, a thick plaid over his curled up body. He looked so small like this. You got closer and gently said his name, not wanting to startle him. Conrad was a light sleeper. He stirred, slowly waking, a mixture of surprise and sadness in his eyes when he saw you.

‘’What are you doing here?’’ Conrad asked, noticing your skirt and sheer tights. He knew it was Christmas eve. You should be with your family, not in Cousins.

‘’Jeremiah called me, he was worried,’’ you explained briefly.

‘’How did you know I was here? I didn’t tell anyone...’’

No one knew Conrad like you did. You were there through the good and the bad — and there was a lot of this bad this past year. You were the one who had brushed his tears at his mother’s funerals. You knew all of his favorite songs and picked up every time he called regardless of the time. You always knew just how to make him laugh. 

You sat on the edge of the couch, giving your best friend a soft look. ‘’No one knows you like I do.’’ 

The smallest smile curled on his lips. ‘’I’m glad you’re here,’’ he admitted, a veil of tears in his eyes. ‘’I thought I wanted to be alone, but it makes me miss her more.’’

Your heart broke and you pulled him in your arms.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1  @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802  @CZARINERA @katherinejess  @cookielovesbooks-akie

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

[stsgluver]

synopsis. mcdonald's date with gojo after work [part of the dynasty series]

wc. 870

tags. gojo x reader, rich boy!au, fluff, self indulgent, not proofread x

a/n. I wish I had a gojo to fund my maccies addiction

"dinner is served, m'lady," gojo dropped his head elegantly in a small bow as he held out a mcdonald's bag to you and you can't help the grin that graced your features. your snow white-haired boyfriend dared to take a glance up, his expression mirroring yours as he felt the spread of the warmth that came with making you happy. his cheeks and the tips of his flushed a light shade of pink at the idea he was the reason behind your smile.

"you shouldn't have," you responded dramatically, leaning forward to grab the bag of food with one hand and the collar of his hoodie in the other. tugging him forward lightly, he followed through, not hesitating to dip his head down to meet your lips for a well-deserved kiss. your teeth clashed and he huffed a quiet laugh, pulling back, lips drifting to peck the corner of your lips, the flush of your cheeks and then one final kiss to the tip of your nose.

you scrunched your nose up in response, and gojo grinned. "eat, before it goes cold."

silence settled between the two of you as you flicked through the bag and organised what burger belonged to who. the car park gojo had parked in was almost empty, the sun having long set and most people having gone home. you, on the other hand, had just finished an eight hour shift at your local cafe and your boyfriend insisted he treat you to the finest of dinners.

christmas was only a couple weeks away now and the temperatures were significantly dropping, so every minute of your day had been just one gingerbread latte and hot chocolate after another. several spillages, a kid vomiting, and two muffin drops later, you were more than grateful for drive thru mcdonalds.

gojo’s thumb brushed lightly against your thigh as he held you whilst you both ate. yes, he would risk knocking the dips over as he haphazardly held all of his food on his lap and dipped his chicken in. "the stars are so pretty tonight."

shifting in your seat, you peered out at the night sky. he was in fact right – thousands of stars and satellites alike flickered above. "oh my god you can see them so clearly." you pulled out your phone to take several pictures that you’d almost definitely be posting on your next dump on your spam account. 

your boyfriend, on the other hand, was clearly not impressed with your response, delivering a harsh pinch to your thigh that had you jumping in your seat.

"ahem," he coughed, dark glasses dropped to the edge of his nose as he peered over the lenses at you.

"what?"

gojo could come across as intimidating to some, with his towering height, black glasses, and overall cocky nature. however, he looked anything but as he pouted and crossed his arms over his chest, twisting his body away from you in his seat. "you were supposed to be like 'yeah they are' as you gaze at me."

you laughed at the notion, leaning across to steal some of his cold chips from his lap. "i'm sorry but what level of delusion are you living in?"

gojo gasped, swatting your hand away, "i'm never buying you dinner ever ever again."

"oh no, how ever will i be able to afford my…” you glanced at the receipt on the bag you’d left on the dashboard. “£7.95 meal again. £7.95!"

when he spared you a glance this time, he couldn’t help but smile despite his best efforts not to. how could he not? not many that he’d met could put up with his eccentric personality, and even fewer would play along with his dramatics. and yet here he had the prettiest girl he’d ever met entertaining him without judgement.  

"you won't. you'll starve,” he said matter-of-factly. “i'll still go to your funeral."

"i'll let you tell everyone we were best friends so you'll get sympathy points."

if gojo had jumped any higher in his seat, he would’ve had a concussion from hitting the ceiling of his car. "best friends?! you mean boyfriend and girlfriend? husband and wife? soulmates for life?"

"sure those work too i guess," you waved your hand dismissively, reaching for more of his fries.

this time, gojo doesn’t hinder your effort. sinking further into his seat as he gripped his top over his chest. "you're breaking my heart here baby."

you kissed his cheek gently, a small print of your lipgloss left behind on his pale skin. “you’ll live.” 

gojo puckered up his lips, “one more and maybe i will.” you rolled your eyes but complied nonetheless, tasting the salt from your dinner on his lips as you leant over the console. if it wasn’t for oxygen, he didn’t think he’d ever let you go. 

“wanna take me to subway so i can get some cookies?” you mumbled against his lips. gojo hummed when he felt your hands lightly caress his undercut and that was all it took for your earlier offences to be forgiven. he was putty in your hands after all, had been since the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

“anything for my girl.”

taglist. @jar-03 @animeflower26 @hyori2

#gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo drabbles #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader - Christmas Present (WARNINGS:SMUT)

Warnings: Creampie, taboo, stepdad x reader, secret s*x, Daddy kink, Christmas Dinner, Secret touching, Fingering, Behind your mom's back, Praise kink, dd/lg, Dark William Afton/William Afton is not a nice man, Mutual agreeance & consensual intercourse.

AN: I don't know what I did, but this just came out. Not beta read but I am going to sleep now and I wanted to share this with you all. For quick links and more, see notes below.

The soft glow of Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm, inviting atmosphere. You sat at the table with your mom, stepdad William, stepsister Vanessa, and her new boyfriend Mike. The scent of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, while laughter and cheerful conversation echoed around you.

Vanessa and Mike animatedly chatted about their budding relationship, beaming as they recounted their favorite dates and shared aspirations. Their love was palpable, and they seemed eager to impress your mom and William with their connection. It seemed to work, your mom seemed smitten with Mike and William hadn’t said a nasty thing to him all evening – which you considered a win.

"Hey," Vanessa said, turning her attention to you, "when are you going to get a boyfriend?" Your heart clenched, and words failed to form in your throat. She didn't know what had been going on behind closed doors.

"Yes, good question," William chimed in. “Your mom has been dying to get a grandkid or two,” he said, feigning concern.

You nearly spat your drink out and tried to look away. Especially as beneath the tablecloth, you felt his hand snake onto your upper leg, fingers brushing against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, the ghost of his touch haunting you.

“Dad!” Vanessa cried out.

“Well, it’s true,” William said matter-of-factly, and you could tell from the corner of your eyes that your mother blushed. “I just want to see all my girls happy and settled. So, when will you bring home a nice boy for me to meet?” His voice dripped with insincerity. Bringing home a date was the last thing he was waiting for. He didn’t want to see you date, or risk losing you to anyone else.

The fingers on your legs dug possessively into your skin, a silent warning that you were already claimed.

His.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact. "I've just been busy with work, you know?"

"Sure, but there's always time for love," Mike added, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. He didn’t know what was going on – none of them did. He couldn’t see how your stepdad’s fingers traced up your Christmas over-the-knee stockings until they met bare skin.

"Maybe one day," you murmured, forcing a smile. As the conversation moved on, William's hand remained on your leg, a sinister reminder of the secrets you shared.

It became hard to focus on dinner like that. With his palm hotly upon your flesh. Memories of your stepdad’s mouth on your skin, his possessive grip on your hips, and his whispered promises to keep your liaisons secret washed over you.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the colorful decorations and warm atmosphere as everyone continued eating, trying to ignore the sick knot forming in your stomach.

God, how could you want a man like him so badly? When you knew it was so wrong?

"Delicious turkey, Mom," you said, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. Your mother beamed with pride, but all the while, you felt William's hand inching further up your leg, like a spider crawling toward its prey.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied, oblivious to the tension that was slowly strangling the air around you.

"Great job with the table setting too," Vanessa chimed in, squeezing Mike's hand as they exchanged loving glances.

Yes, great. Excellent, you sardonically thought as your stepdad’s fingertip brushed past the crotch of your panties. A wet spot formed where his fingers brushed past your nub, the now damp material seemingly spurring him on, for his fingers became more insistent. Even going as far as to hook underneath the elastics of your panties at one point to dip a fingertip between your soaked folds. You flinched, knee banging against the underside of the table, and whispered a flustered apology while William dipped his finger a little deeper inside your cunt – as far as he could go from where he was seated really.

You met his heated blue gaze as you looked to your side, saw the way he watched you intently from behind his aviator glasses. He pumped inside of you a few times, just to the second knuckle, and then his finger slid out again.

The now wet digit remained on your naked thigh for the remainder of the meal, only leaving when William had to pass food around. You watched with fascination as the criminal digit stroked past one of the bowls, how his fingertip glistened with your juices and accidentally tapped against some of the lettuce inside.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you picked at your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. Your core was like a fuzzy ball full of wires that all got tangled. Expecting your stepdad to touch you - and hating the fact that you wished he would.

When dinner finally ended, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from work. You escaped to your room, away from your stepsister and her happy relationship, away from your mother and her bright smiles. And most importantly, away from him.

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could protect you from the reality lurking just beyond your bedroom door. Sleep was elusive, your thoughts racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The creak of the door opening sliced through the darkness like a knife, and your breath caught in your throat as you heard your stepdad’s familiar footsteps approaching. He stood beside your bed, his presence looming over you like a shadowy figure.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to deliver your present."

He wouldn’t even flick on the light, but you could see him illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps through the window. He was already naked, a bow wrapped around the base of his already erect cock. He held it in his right hand, stroking himself and brushing his thumb past the head, the slit already weeping pre-cum that glistened like white pearls in the dark. "I've been waiting for you all through dinner." He stepped closer until you felt the bed dip with his weight, resting a knee next to you on the mattress. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and tantalizing.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, but your body betrayed you, nodding in submission. The tension in the room was palpable, both of you knowing what was about to happen. You wore a nightgown with nothing underneath. As always. Easy access for Dad. Like Daddy’s good girl.

His hands found yours, gently guiding them to the ribbon around his shaft. Your fingers trembled, but followed his lead, slipping beneath the fabric to pull it off. Your fingertips gently stroked past his fevered skin, feeling the ridges and the veins and how his member throbbed at the slightest touch.

"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your flushed form before he pushed you down on the bed again.

He wasted no time, reaching out to touch you, fingers tracing delicate patterns across your sensitive flesh. You gasped, hips arching involuntarily as pleasure bloomed within you. The suddenness of it all was overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of guilt and desire. Your nipples peeked underneath your nightgown, his blue eyes drawn toward them. He lifted your gown to reveal your stomach and breasts, wasting no time in tasting your skin with his lips and his tongue.

You writhed underneath him in pleasure while his erection bobbed against your hip. The wish to just put it in there grew stronger and stronger with each flick of the tongue and each nibble of teeth.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as he kept your arms pinned down, hovering over you like a predator eating its prey. His lips moved lower, just when it became too much, and then his tongue flicked past your stomach to your core.

A yelp escaped you, and wetness gushed forth between your folds, making your core glisten in the light of the lamps from outdoors.

"Quiet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to your inner thigh. "Your mother might be waiting for me in our room right now. You don’t want her to find us like this, do you?"

It took effort to shake your head and mutter a faint no, because he was driving you wild. Your core pulsed with slick, too empty and aching to be filled. You were drowning in sensation, sinking deeper into the abyss of forbidden lust.

"Please," you whimpered, no longer able to distinguish between want and need.

"Shh, you want to be Daddy’s sweet girl, right?" He cooed, pressing his lips to your trembling ones. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

And so he did. His hands roamed, his mouth tasted, and your body responded with an urgency you had never known. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the symphony of your ragged breaths and whispered moans.

"William," you gasped, as he finally positioned his hard cock at your entrance. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his sweaty skin. “Daddy, please,” you begged him. “I wanna be your good girl. Fill me up, please, Daddy. I wanna be good for you.”

And with a grin that made his teeth glisten in the dark, he entered you, filling you completely. His thick cock spread your pulsing walls wide, pussy fluttering helplessly around his size as he bottomed out. His balls slapped against your skin as he moved out and then in again, nudging his cockhead deep inside your core and making you see stars.

It was such a delight. How you had missed feeling him inside of you like this. To be filled so completely by this man that your mother called her lover.

If only she knew.

William filled you completely, satisfying a primal need you wished you had never known as it became an addiction. It was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated you.

"Say my name again," he demanded, eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear it."

"Daddy," you repeated, more firmly this time, feeling a surge of power as he shuddered above you.

The love you made was sweet and tender, yet laced with a darkness that could not be denied. Whispers of ‘my sweet girl’ and ‘Daddy’s good girl’ were accompanied by a pull of your hair or a thrust so rough it made your teeth chatter. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. And when you finally tumbled over, it was as if the world had shattered around you, leaving only fragments of pleasure and pain. Your walls fluttered around his cock, forcing him over the brink with you. A loud groan filled your ear and revibrated through your entire body.

As you lay there, panting and spent, your stepdad slowly moved up on his elbows and reached for something on your nightstand. The light blinked on and you had to close your eyes because of the brightness, bringing an arm up to your head.

His warm body withdrew from yours with a slick squelch. And then you felt his strong large hands as he pushed your legs open wide. You slowly recognized he reached for his phone, capturing the aftermath of your union. The sight of white globs of sperm leaking from between your legs seemed to bring him immense satisfaction, and he held the camera up close to capture it. The way your pussy pulsed in the aftermath, the way his seed was slowly pushed out and then sucked back in again by your body - a wicked smile graced his features as he recorded it all.

Then, once he was satisfied, he put the phone aside.

"Best Christmas present ever," he declared, his voice heavy with pride and possession.

You smiled up at him, cheeks flustered and eyes tired. You slowly pulled your nightgown back down, covering the fresh hickeys, love bites and bruises your stepdad just gave you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, heart swelling with satisfaction when William’s blue eyes twinkled at your words.

“Good girl,” he said again.

You watched as he slowly raised himself from the bed and bent forward to seek for the Christmas ribbon. Once he found it, he pumped his cock in his fist a few times until it started to become erect again.

“Help me with this, will you?” he asked, holding out the ribbon for you to take. You sat up on the bed on your knees to help him, feeling how even more of his sperm seemed to leave your soaking-wet core. You bit your lip as you tied the ribbon around the base of his cock once more, creating a lovely bow, then carefully glanced up at him.

William caught your look and groaned. “Oh, honey, don’t look at me with puppy eyes like that. Makes me just want to ravish you again.”

He bent over to capture your lips in his own, cock still in his hand, pumping himself a few more times. When he broke the kiss and leaned back you could see how his cock was now back on the way to be fully erect again, and you bit your lip in desire.

“Much as I want to fill you up a second time, I got to tend to your mom first. Promised her a Christmas present as well.”

He must have seen the way your face fell – no one wanted to be reminded of their lover having sex with someone else, especially when they were family. But you had known something like this would happen. He was your mom’s husband after all. Not yours.

A gentle brush of his thumb past your lip and your gaze softened.

“What will you tell her about the wetness?” you asked, shyly gesturing at his cock which was still coated in your mixed juices.

William’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “I’ll just tell her I lubed up,” and then his hand ruffled through your hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your still Daddy’s favorite girl.”

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. The gesture should have been comforting, but it only served to remind you of the twisted reality you now found yourself in. You watched as your stepdad left the room and then cuddled underneath the blankets again. A smile slid on your lips and you closed your eyes.

Your stepdad knew how to give the best presents for Christmas ever. ~ AN: Merry Whatever you Celebrate.🥳 If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi  (: I'll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I'll keep you up to date :) Quick links: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#william afton #william afton x reader #stepdad x stepdaughter #stepdad au #merry christmas filth #william afton x you #william afton x female reader #steve raglan x you #steve raglan x reader #matthew lillard x reader #fnaf smut #older man x younger woman #This is smut

[dazedazaii]

hi haein bb 🌷 can i join your christmas event with the ‘let’s host together’ prompt with beastzai? angst if possible but if you want i don’t mind fluff!!! tysm and happy december to chuu<3

please come home for christmas — o. dazai (beast)

in which the house is empty, and yokohamas streets are silent.

cw: angst !! hurt no comfort. not edited.

it was considered normal for dazai to come home late. it was a routine perfectly performed everyday; dazai would come home (if he ever does come home,) microwave the dinner that is on the stove and pan, covered by a lid originally belonging to the pots, and shower. he slips into bed ever so quietly, ever so gently that you don’t even realize he had come home.

and yet despite all of that routine, he promised. promised to come home early, even if it was just for today. so then why, why were you sitting in idle, hearing the sound of the ticking clock etching into your brain. the dinner by then had probably already gone cold, the steam of the food had given up and the aroma of various dishes that both you and the maids have made filled the room.

it was silent.

you glanced out the window.

“ah, it’s snowing.” one of the maids whispered to themself in surprise. everyone was so sidetracked with creating the dishes and waiting for dazai that they had failed to see the snow quietly falling down.

“p- perhaps the lord is on his way … the snow may be causing traffic.” the maids shifted uncomfortably as they tried to reassure you, giving comforting, yet somewhat forced, smiles. you sighed. it can’t be helped.

“if he’s late, he’s late.” you pushed the table gently as stood up from your chair, dusting yourself off of nothing and pushing your chair in, looking down at your feet before excusing yourself.

“please, enjoy what you have set on the table. if osamu even comes home, tell him i have given you full permission to eat.” with that, you left the large kitchen and made your way to the shared bedroom.

perhaps it was just you, but the house felt cold. even after a hot bath, you felt awfully chilly. the bed, one where you found the most warmth was found, felt as if there was no coverage on your shivering body. the mattress felt solid and before, you used to sink into it, eyes shut and a gentle smile on your face.

and there was that stomach twisting feeling. you took your phone from the light stand, to check if osamu had called you at all, hell, maybe a quick text, and yet, to no avail. you took a quick sigh of frustration and called his number, hugging his pillow as his scent wafted into your nose.

“hello ?” he sounded bored and unamused, paper rustled in the background as you cracked open your dry lips.

“have you forgotten ? you promised to come home early today.”

“ah, i was gonna call you ‘bout that …” osamu sighed from the other line, the sound of flipping paper being placed away made your blood boil.

“sorry, angel. chuuya’s holding me captive ..” he whined, sighing. there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“have you not told chuuya you were gonna help me with decorating the house ? or … at least have dinner ..?” your voice faded down into sadness, the room dark and your face starting to get hot and nose stuffy.

“hahh ? i …” he paused to think. scratch that, pretend to think, as if he was a child being asked a question of if he either liked his mother or father better.

“dont think .. soo ~? listen, angel, things have just gotten really busy and i —”

you ended the call. a migraine was going to grow if you heard any excuse from him.

christmas was underwhelming. your lover broke the promise he made, and dazai isn’t one to break promises, let alone make ones he cannot keep.

you set your phone away, ignoring the buzzing vibrations of phone calls as you tucked yourself into bed. perhaps you’ll talk to him if he comes home.

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd angst #bsd dazai #bungo stray dogs dazai #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #beast dazai x reader #beast dazai x you #혜인 🖋️ #haein’s christmas event >ᴗ<

[shoukiko]

Merry Christmas, Simon

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Fluff....just fluff lol

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've been working on this for a bit, just waiting to post it today, I'm all antsy, I really hope you guys like it.

You’ve worked with TF141 for the past three years. Price spoke to Laswell, saying that he thought the team deserved some type of break, so he and Laswell came up with an “amazing holiday getaway” to “a hidden oasis where the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves and the soothing melody of birdsong.”. It was a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, for safety reasons, but you were all grateful for it. It was 2 weeks away, a day would’ve been fine, but she insisted.

It was a week and two days into the trip, snowing outside, your turn for chores. Soap and Gaz sat on the couch in front of an old television watching some soap opera. Price is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, asleep with his arms crossed as his head dangles. You’re tidying up the kitchen after a late dinner, you turn to look at the clock hung on the wall which reads, 12:05. You realize what this entails as you turn to the three men.

“Merry Christmas, guys!” You say cheerfully in their direction. 

“Merry Christmas, Lass.” Soap says from his seat, he nudges Gaz to respond. “Ah- Yea Merry Christmas…” He seems to be too focused on the TV show, who can blame him, those telenovelas are addicting. You decide against waking Price up, the man needs his sleep. As you turn back to the sink you feel a tap on your left shoulder, you turn to see Ghost’s tall dark figure hovering over you, sporting his casual skull balaclava.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” You tilt your head as you ask, genuinely curious as to what he could need that requires a tap on the shoulder instead of him outright asking.

“You got a minute? Wanted to see if we could have a quick chat.” His tone is somewhat nervous? He isn’t as husky or gritty as usual. “Sure, let me finish up and-” He cuts you off before you can finish. “It’s important. I’ll help you out after.” 

Must really be important if the Ghost tells you it is. “Alright.” You wipe your hands on your apron, untying it from your back and hanging it up on a nearby chair. “Grab your coat.” He dons his own coat, all in one fell swoop. You grab yours, putting it on. 

You both head outside to the porch, each taking a seat on the swinging bench that hangs from the veranda. “Ah wait here-” He says, standing once more, he heads inside and comes back hiding something in his coat. “Whatcha got there, Mister?” You ask him as he sits back down, the bench shifts slightly from his weight.

He pulls out a plastic bag that contains multiple little things, he hands it to you. Taking notice of the slight blush at the end of his fingertips you slowly take the bag. “Merry Christmas… Sorry, didn’t get to wrap it.” A bashful tone in his voice.

“You.. got me something? Man, I feel a little bad, if I would’ve known I would’ve done the same..” You say, hesitating to open it. “Don’t fret over it… Are you gonna open it or just stare at it?”

“Ah right- Sorry” You carefully reach into the bag and pull out one of the small items. It’s… 

“Socks! You got me socks?!” A smile appears on your face, beaming in the night. Despite the mask, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “There’s more if you look.” 

You open the bag more and find more small items, a small tube of vanilla scented lotion, a notepad, and some cinnamon wax melts. You’re happy, but oh so confused by the difference of each item.

“This is… Thank you. I really love it, but what’s with the theme?” You ask with a laugh.

“Well…” He pauses to think for a minute. “It’s all things you wanted.” “Huh..?”

“A couple days ago you said you couldn’t find your winter socks, then you said you forgot your hand cream back at home, then you said while eating dinner two nights ago that you love the smell of cinnamon during Christmas because it reminds you of good memories from your childhood.” You’re taken aback, you don’t remember saying any of these things until he brings it up, such small things and yet he remembers. 

“You… you actually remember?” A faint blush appears on your face as you scan over your new gifts, suddenly feeling warm despite the subzero temperatures. “Uhm.. Thank you.. Really. Was this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, actually.” His expression becomes somber as he closes his eyes and takes a breath, he turns his body slightly and rests his arm on the back of the bench. “Look, I don’t know how else to bring this up.”

“What’s wrong?”

Ghost grips the back of the bench before meeting your eyes.

"Listen, I've been thinkin' a lot lately, and I reckon I need to be straight with you. You mean a proper lot to me, more than I can put into words. I'm mad about you, every single goddamn I hear your voice or that stupid laugh.. It’s like something shifts in me. I care about you, more than  I have about anyone in a long time, but…”

Your heart beating out of your chest, uncertain on how to respond. All you can let out is a

“But..?”

He looks down, almost like he’s ashamed before responding.

“I’m.. scared, terrified. Of hurting you.. Or you getting into an accident during a mission. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” His tone is serious, but you can hear a sense of fear.

You look at him with genuine eyes, you almost can’t believe what’s happening in front of you, the Ghost confessing his feelings for you. “But…” He continues. “If you’ll have me, I’m willing to take that leap into uncertainty with you. If… you want.”

You look at him as if you’re a deer caught in headlights. You begin to lose your breath, blinking,  unable to process what was said to you. You take a moment before replying…

“I- I….” You struggle to find the words, you want to scream, but you also want to take it slow and really talk about it. You can see him become antsy, your silence bringing tension to the cold air around you. “Ghost I..”

“It’s fine.” He interrupts.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I know it’s sudden. I’m sorry.” He says, there's a slight hurt in his voice, he goes to stand. Just then you grab his arm, stopping him.

“I want.” “...What..?” “You said if I want…. Well.. I want, I don’t know how else to say it. I do want to be with you. I want to jump into that uncertainty with you. Please.” There’s a tinge of desperation in your voice, you feel as if you say nothing now, you will never have this opportunity again.

Ghost looks as if a wave of relief has washed over him. 

“I thought you were gonna make me think I said all that for nothin’.” His eyes crinkle slightly as he adjusts himself once more.

“I’m sorry, I got nervous, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.” You begin to fidget with your hands in your lap, a faint blush appearing on your faces as you turn away. 

You feel him inching closer to you, the heat from his body radiating, bringing warmth for both of you to share.

He softly grabs your face with his right hand, turning you towards him. You take glances at his mask and eyes, unable to lock on a single thing. He pulls up his mask just above his nose and leans in, pressing his lips against yours. Only a few seconds before you lean into him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat. He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. You pull away for just a second to catch your breath. The both of you share a look, complete silence, then..

He chuckles, “Well then..” You place a hand on your mouth as you stare at him, stifling a small laugh. “That was something.” You manage to say through your giggles. You place your hand on his, a loving smile forms on your lips. He begins to caress the back of your hand, his touch gentle, yet warm. “Thank you…. Merry Christmas, Doll.” He looks up at you with gentle eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Simon.”

#cod x reader #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley x y/n #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #shoukiko #cod #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #mw2

[luveline]

Hi Jade, congratulations on 40k! Absolutely amazing!!!

For the celebration, may I request '𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐨𝐤' — with Eddie & the phrase"I don't feel good", either Eddie or Reader didn't eat much throughout the day?

Thanks so much!! 💜

luveline's 40k party ☆ thank you! —eddie feels suddenly unwell after a long day with little to eat. you step in when he almost faints to take diligent care of him. fem!reader, 1.8k

"Hello, gorgeous." 

Eddie flinches at your appearance but quickly softens, pushing his book aside to open his arms to you. "I should be saying that to you!" he says, standing and squeezing you tight enough to force the breath from your chest in a rough laugh. 

"Wayne let me in, I swear." 

"I forgot you were coming," he says. Apologetic, he stops hugging you so tight and ends the embrace with your face in his hands. "Lucky me. It's like going to sleep December first and waking up on Christmas Eve, babe." 

He puts a piece of scrap paper between the pages of his book and hides it away on the nightstand. "Help me make this bed," he says. 

You're smiling just looking at him, rounding the bed to stand at the end while he moves near the top. You help him shake out the unmade comforter, straightening his blanket with a flourish. He beats the pillows into submission. When he's leaning forward you creep back behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your face to his spine. You can feel the notches. 

Eddie smells different. Like himself, you're not sure what it is, probably a mixture of skin and detergent and nothing special, but today there's a trace of cigarette smoke.

"You've been smoking in bed?" you ask, surprised. 

"How do you do that?" he asks, covering your arms with his and bending further forward under your weight. 

"Are you okay?" you ask instead of answering. 

"I'm fine. I've been dreadfully, woefully lazy today, babe. Like, totally sedentary, that book is kind of amazing." 

You curl around his waist to look at the cover. "The Shining," you read, trading the faces of the family stacked on the front. "By the guy who wrote Carrie? You love that one." 

"It's amazing." Eddie puts his arm behind your shoulders to usher you forward, holding you under his arm instead. Half-hugging, he kisses your cheek. 

You kiss him properly.

He receives gladly, though he steals the lead and leaves you reeling for a split-second. Funny how he can kiss you stupid in sloppy pyjamas, chipped nails digging into your hips. You don't care that he forgot you were coming over when he's this happy to see you.

"I think we should get takeout to celebrate you being so cute," you say, to his delight. "You can shower while I go find out what Wayne wants, and you can read your book after dinner." 

Eddie smiles, hides it, says, "No, I wanna see you, that's why you're here." 

"I'll still be here." You shrug. "I'll borrow your copy of Carrie and we can read together. I don't mind, I just wanted to be in the same room as you." 

He grabs you for stupid kisses smushed up into your neck until you're warm from being held. Fierce, you usher him away to the bathroom and make your way to the kitchen. You and Wayne are good at talking now and things are blissfully comfortable, a yellow menu for the Three Dragons spread out over the table as you make a list. Wayne orders, and upon seeing the mess of takeout menus they keep in one of the drawers under the cutlery drawer, you make it your mission to help him recover some space until Eddie's out of the shower. 

Eddie's quick. He appears dressed and dark-haired, scrubbing a towel over his face. Wet, his hair twists but doesn't coil. 

"That's better, dracula," Wayne says, dragging a lighter off of the edge of the window sill. "You look human. I'm going out back to smoke." 

Eddie sits on the couch and you slink from the kitchenette to be closer to him, sitting on the arm next to him. You can't deny the temptation of his curls, separating them with your fingers and brushing down. They're cold and long, kissing the space between his shoulder blades. 

Eddie doesn't say much. You're unnerved quickly; it's not like him to brood, especially after such a good hug before his shower.

"You okay?" you ask gently, fingertips trailing through his hair lazily. 

He curls inward. Not away from your touch but into a ball, of sorts, his back curved. "I don't feel good," he confesses, his voice brittle as sugar paper.

You lean forward with him as you had earlier, following him into his defensive position. "Baby?" 

"I feel sick," he says. 

Eddie loves complaining and you love to hear it, but not when his voice wobbles. Concerned but keeping your cool, you slide off of the arm to kneel in front of him, carding the damp sheet of his hair where it hands like ivy behind his ear. 

"You look pale." You stroke his hair, though there's nothing left to tuck. "How sick do you feel, Eddie? Like you could throw up?" 

"It's not like that." 

"Have you eaten anything today?" you ask. 

You know the answer before he shakes his head. 

Telling him off is instinctive, but it won't help, and you realise you're not interested in scolding him. You turn his face to yours. "Sitting forward will make you feel sicker. Sit back, and I'll get you something. Don't look so worried, baby, I'm sure it's just low blood sugar. Cool?" 

He smiles weakly. "You're right." 

Eddie sits back into the couch cushions and pulls one over his stomach, holding it there. The heat of his shower wouldn't have helped, and if he hasn't eaten it's possible he could faint. Luckily he'd seemed alert if miserable, so you step over his feet to try and fix him before he feels worse. It's weird rooting through their cabinets, but it's for Eddie's sake. You'll be forgiven.

You return with a sleeve of saltines, a couple of dark chocolate chip cookies, and a glass of apple juice. It's the concentrated kind from the grocery store full of bad bad things, but he needs sugar, and it's chock full of it. 

"Here you go," you say, sitting on the couch next to him. He's grey like dirty snow, eyes a touch glassy. "Do I need to call Wayne in?"

"No," he says, sitting up to accept your offered juice. "I'm okay, just felt real shitty real sudden." He skulls the juice to the sounds of your protesting and accepts a cookie, crumbs trickling down his lap as he snaps it in half. 

You wipe them away. 

"We got your usual from the Three Dragons, it'll be here soon, but I can make you something else? Or, you had eggs in the fridge, I bet Wayne would make you one of his nice omelettes." 

Eddie swallows his mouthful, head shaking. "I'm okay." 

You're not sure if you should believe him, your hand on his thigh rubbing up and down and up again, waiting for his skin to flush. He hadn't looked so sallow when you first arrived. 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you to shower on an empty stomach."

Eddie rubs at his head. There's agitation in the action, but none of which is directed at you, proven by the soft cadence of his voice when he says, "What are you sorry for, dummy? You didn't know. I'm sorry for being dramatic." He again leans back against the couch, his face parallel to the ceiling but his eyes watching your face. He's handsome even when he's poorly, the subtle bob of his Adam's apple accompanying a rough confession, "I didn't mean to scare you, I just don't think I've felt like that before." 

You reach up to draw a line along the cliff of his jaw, straight across and then down his neck. "Did you eat much yesterday? Maybe you're running low." He closes his eyes. You're still worried about him, clearing your throat. "You don't feel faint, do you? Does your head hurt?" 

"A little bit." 

You rush back to the kitchen for a glass of water. Wayne wars with the back door as you're filling it up, and his eyebrows hike when he sees the look on your face. "Everything okay, kid?" he asks. 

"Eddie's feeling freaky." 

"D'you eat?" Wayne calls. 

Eddie groans. You give Wayne a grim frown. 

"I'll make him a sandwich," Wayne decides, heading for the fridge. 

"Don't!" Eddie whines. "The food's coming any minute, I'm good! I was having a moment, just want attention." 

You laugh and loop back to him, tucking your legs under you as you sit and press the glass of cold water into his hand. 

"There are much better ways to get some attention," you tease. 

"But this way was so much fun," he drawls, monotone. 

You pet his hair as he drinks the water, appreciation mixed with a reverent, aching love in the way he tilts his head to your touch. 

"I feel better already," he says, holding the glass to his neck. 

You lift up to kiss the skin adjacent to his eye. "Good. Take it easy, Eds. You can't finish your book if you pass out." 

Wayne makes Eddie a sandwich and insists Eddie eat it, though your boyfriend argues that it'll ruin his takeout. "Should've thought about that when you skipped breakfast and lunch, then, idiot," Wayne says, putting an end to it swiftly. 

Eddie perks up halfway through his sandwich, and when the takeout comes, Wayne doesn't make him suffer through the second half. You eat, watch TV, and everyone survives the night. After cleaning up some, you and Eddie curl up in pyjamas together while he reads and you pretend, staring at the side of his face. 

His cheeks turn rosy the longer your gaze lingers. "I'm fine," he says quietly. "Just stupid." 

You squeeze his arm. "As long as you're okay. Tell me if you feel sick again, okay?" 

He closes his book around his fingers. 

"I'll tell you," he says, still quiet. Then, with a breezier tone, he reaches back with his hand to tangle your fingers and says, "I gotta thank you for being you. I didn't freak out 'cos I knew you were there, and, like, I know how lucky I am that I felt that way." 

You drop your jaw. "Woah, that is so sincere!" 

Eddie rolls his eyes and pushes your hand away. "Dork." 

You crawl into his lap and hug him. He deserves a hug, for being sick and for being honest. If you're heavy he doesn't say a word, hugging you for a handful of minutes that stretch long and slow. "I'll get off you," you say, making little efforts to move. Eddie doesn't bother either. 

"I need you there, you stop me from getting sick," he says. 

You don't believe it for a second, but it's nice. Eddie reads around you, his arms looped through yours, his book perched on your shoulder as you nestle into the curve of his neck. 

#luveline's 40k party #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[sashi-ya]

𝑵𝑶𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑴𝑨𝑺 𝑫𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹 𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐱 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞! 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤹˚ synopsis. a noble woman like you have been invited to the anual christmas dinner, this time organized by the Kuchiki clan... But you aren't new to those lands, and Byakuya is a little bit weak when it comes to you ~

tw: mndi. smut. penetration. masturbation. semi public. cream pie. wc: 1,5k

Noble, refined, rich. Status. All of the things you didn’t need. Because you already have them. As equally as Mr. Kuchiki.

Your red dress, sexier than any of the rest, but still elegant caught the attention of everyone in the room. But you could only care for one just pair of dark blue eyes; Kuchiki Byakuya’s eyes.

Soft hand placed on his, sliding in glamourous style and still so full of lust.

“Welcome Miss (Name)” Byakuya salutes you, taking the back of your hand to his lips. Such action, causes little gasps around. Byakuya Kuchiki kissing a woman’s hand? What is this?

But not even him, a self-control freak, could resist the enchantment of you.

“Thank you, Kuchiki-san. I am glad this year it was you who were in charge of organizing the Christmas Noble Night” you whisper, coming closer to his face… oh so dangerously close, with bold bloody lips tinted in carmine hues.

Byakuya swallows. His motions seem to become slow, slower. Nothing but your seductiveness occupies his mind, fogging his judgement, making him extremely sensitive.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here” “The pleasure is mine…”

You walk past him, letting your hair play like a hypnotizing pendulum barely covering your exposed back. Byakuya’s eyes fix on the small of it, already imagining a thousand ways of kissing your skin.

After you have successfully asserted dominance over every little noble, it’s time to sit down at a fine, and full of food, table.

You sit in your spot, especially chosen to be right in front of the host and wait for Byakuya to arrive at the dining room.

Every low-grade noble woman awaits for his presence with great enthusiasm, even if they know he is a man of a single woman. However, every rule has always a certain exception…

As he enters everybody shuts up. His formal attire, a dark green kimono with gold details, flashes before the eyes of hungry singles. His hair, as always so silky and beautiful, flows with every step he takes, properly fixed into his Kenseikan. And his eyes, as always looking like a dark spring night, scan quickly the room before falling upon your imagery.

“Thank you all for coming tonight, I hope you enjoy” he announces, as always short and to the point. Byakuya will never rumble, Byakuya will never speak a single word more than what it should be pronounced.

He sits down and as he does, you cross your legs in such way that the high cut of your dress slides enough to let him see everything he was hoping for you to show.

Byakuya’s gaze changes from a severe to a troubled one; his gloved hands slide down his lap… there is probably something he needs to make sure it isn’t showing.

However, the seductive dance of courtship isn’t over. In fact, it is barely starting.

The first plate is served, on extremely fine tableware on top of silver plates. A assorted pieces of Sashimi await to be devoured. Like you wait to devour him, soon. Quick… faster.

You notice the noble man constantly -and rather notoriously- peaking at you, trying to know of every single thing you do. And as the long tradition in Japanese cuisine marks, you use your own hands to eat the pieces of Sushi. The juiciest one, sexily kisses your lips with salty taste. A little drop of sauce pulling on the middle of your lower lip, inviting a voyeuristic Byakuya to fix his gaze in them.

Ginrei-sama, Byakuya’s grand father and ex head clan, notices how lost in lust his grandson looks and decides it’s time to wake him up.

“Byakuya, pay a visit to the rest room. You are making a bad impression. You are visibly flustered, kid” Ginrei whispers, breaking Byakuya’s fantasy.

He immediately widens his eyes; now the embarrassment is too high for him. He debates himself whether to deny the allegations; to assert his dominance by mentioning he is the head of the clan now… but he choses to stay silent; his grandfather is right.

You notice, smirking ever so softly. There is something so beautiful about a needy man unable to control his own desires…

He excuses himself and stands up. Visibly annoyed, but still acting to supress any type of emotions he turns around and disappears into an endless hall of the Kuchiki manor.

Of course, it wouldn’t be proper to stand up and go behind him immediately… even if you would love to show the rest who has more rights over him than anyone else in there.

By the time the dessert is served and finished, Byakuya hasn’t came back. And that could only mean two things; either he is not willing to get tempted in public again, or he is waiting for you. In any case, both only lead to one single solution…

When everybody is a little bit dizzy from alcohol and good food, you quickly escape the place. You don’t need nobody telling you how to find him, you know the place very well.

And right where you knew he would be, you find him. Byakuya’s nose points to a snowy moon, with his body bent over the railing of his room’s balcony. You can’t see him, as he is facing the vast gardens of now wintery dried cherry blossoms and endless pristine snow.

You walk slowly towards him, taking your heels out before stepping into the deck of his balcony. You can subtly hear soft pants coming from his beautiful lips.

“Just as I thought, you can’t resist yourself no more… right, Bya-kun?” you ask, whispering and surrounding his body from behind towards his waist.

In between his delicate hands, his hard sex. Dripping precum, desperate to be touched, to be relieved. Warm skin you reach that contrasts with the cold breeze of a silent night.

He can’t speak. In his eyes, aside from lust is relief… you have arrived, his helper, the woman that brought back his masculinity is there for him.

You kiss his shoulder, surrounding his shaft with delicacy and yet very firmly.

“Were you waiting for me, Bya-kun?” you ask, sliding your free hand up his cold belly. “For how long have you been this hard?”

“Si-since you arrived… no, even before” he stutters; how strange it is to see this facet of such a serious man. So needy…

You begin to pump his dick, jacking off to drain every drop of seed out of his impassioned body. His legs quiver just a little, one of his hands grab the one you have on his lower belly, and his lips separate enough to let low grunts escape.

“You are so hard already, how would you like to cum… Bya-kun?” you ask, biting the lobe of his ear.

He shivers, letting his body succumb to blinding passion for just a little bit before ripping the kenseikan holding his hair up… Byakuya has lost control, and he is allowed now to do so.

The metallic piece falls into the deck, with such strength that reverberates and creates echoes on the now -hopefully- empty garden underneath.

He turns around, dominantly stopping your masturbating hands.

“Inside. Of. You.” He assures, lifting you by your legs and sitting you over the railing of his balcony.

You let a soft gasp out; even now, when you think you have control… you were so absolutely wrong.

His lips crash against yours, kissing you so concupiscently. Giving you the right to shut up and get violated by a tongue desperate to taste yours.

Byakuya rips the red fabrics of your dress; the sound of the sewing stretching gets covered by panting and whining. Long slender fingers, as soft as silk, discover with great surprise there are no panties covering your wet sex.

“Always so slutty, aren’t you? Always ready for me to fuck you” he murmurs, muzzled by your desirable trembling lips.

“Always, Bya-kun… ngh…” you whine, as he doesn’t wait much time and you immediately get impaled by his hardness.

Pulling from his lower lip, you let him destroy you with heavy thrusts and unmatched technique.

An exquisite increasing rhythm, and your legs snaked around his waist. Pants, whines, and grunts devoured by each other’s mouths. Curled toes, hair flowing on the edge of glory, mounting such a spectacle that can be seen by anyone who decides to pay a visit to the Kuchiki gardens…

The icy cold of Christmas does nothing to your body, the warm embrace of the captain of the sixth division keeps you hot enough. His teeth that sometimes travel to your hard nipples, biting on them, sucking on them.

Your head thrown back, your hands caressing and sometimes pulling form his beautiful onyx hair. To see his eyes fixing in yours while he pounds you, while he pull from your nipples… what a Christmas miracle, what a good present to receive on such a holly night.

Byakuya’s hand reach for the small of your back, once and for all. Pressing against his crotch, he has you trapped. With your back a little bent towards the abbys, and his mouth on your neck, you can feel against your walls the throbbing sensation of his sex. Your spasming walls, milking it harder, reaching climax, aching to be bathed by the Kuchiki descendance.

“Here, now… here is where I wanna cum… Inside you… now, and fo-forever” Byakuya growls. “Forever, you say? Please, do… Bya-kun. Merry Christmas, sweetheart~”

#byakuya kuchiki x reader #kuchiki byakuya x reader #byakuya x reader #byakuya kuchiki imagine #byakuya x you #kuchiki byakuya #byakuya kuchiki x you #kuchiki byakuya x you #byakuya #kuchiki byakuya imagine #byakuya kuchiki #bleach #bleach headcanons #bleach imagines #bleach byakuya #bleach x reader #bleach anime #bleach fanart

[stayteezdreams]

Cozy

Plot: You and Yeosang spend a cozy winter evening together.

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Gn!Reader

Request: I used a left over Halloween prompt ''Cozy evening watching movies" and made it Christmas (Requested by @tumbleboof)

Warnings: Nothing!

Words: ~0.8k

You hummed absentmindedly as you placed the cookies on the tray along with the other snacks you had prepared. As you debated what else to add, you felt arms slip around your waist.

You smiled as Yeosang pressed his face into your neck, gently kissing your skin. Then as he rested his chin on your shoulder he reached out to grab a cookie.

You tsked at him as you slapped his hand away, "These are for after dinner."

You didn't have to look at him to see his pout as he squeezed you tighter. "Then let's eat, I'm hungry."

"Is it all set up?"

He nodded and straightened up, before taking the snack filled tray from you and leading the way into the living room.

As you followed him, the lights faded from the bright kitchen lights to the dark warm glow of the Christmas lights and candles.

You and Yeosang had decorated the living room and covered the couch with various blankets and pillows. Now you planned to spend a cozy evening together in the living room, cuddled on the couch together watching Christmas movies.

A list of Christmas movies were queued up for you to watch as you covered your table with your favorite food, snacks and drinks. It was dark, cold and snowy outside, the perfect atmosphere for the evening.

You eyed the food that you and Yeosang had ordered. Giggling, Yeosang looked over at you and hummed quizzically.

"We ordered too much."

He grinned, "It's okay, we can save them for left overs."

You nodded in agreement as you settled beside him, your first movie playing as Yeosang laid out a blanket over to two of you.

Two movies later, you were now on the couch, your body stretched out on top across Yeosang, his arms wrapped around you. The current movie played with no audience as you and Yeosang talked in between light kisses and soft laughter.

You had eaten your fill of food and desserts as the night grew later and later. You and Yeosang were so lost in each other's company you failed to notice the pitch black night outside.

Yeosang gently ran his fingers up and down your arm as you rested your chin on his chest. He looked down at you with a fond gaze as you talked about various activities to do before Christmas.

"We should go ice skating."

"Can you even ice skate?" He chuckled.

You smiled up at him "I haven't gone for a long time, but I used to be pretty good."

He hummed "I'd like to see it."

"Then we'll go?"

He nodded, "Whatever you want."

Scooting yourself up to meet his eyes you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "I want to do what you want also."

He stared into you eyes for a moment as he brought his hand up and caressed your cheek. "I want-"

You rose your brow as you waited patiently for him to decide. He smiled softly and you tilted your head and smiled.

"What? What do you want?"

"I just want you."

"But you already have me."

"Perfect, then I'm happy."

You rolled your eyes with a groan, but couldn't resist the grin that pulled at your lips.

"Come on, there's gotta be something! Anything!"

He chuckled and you felt his chest rumble beneath you.

"Okay, okay." He thought for a moment before his eyes lit up a bit. "What about the lantern festival?"

Your eyes lit up, "We can do that!"

He nodded, "We can do that, and then do some shopping and get some food."

You nodded along with him, "Sounds great."

He grinned before leaning up and kissing you. Resting his head back down he gently patted your head, "I really just want to spend as much time together as we can."

You grinned and kissed him softly, "Me too."

Laying your head back down on his chest, you hummed in contentment just as the credits began rolling of the third movie.

"Oh! It's over!"

Yeosang smiled knowing it had been the one movie you really wanted to watch this evening, "Do you want me to re-start it?"

You chuckled before shaking your head, "No, we can watch it again another time. I'm getting sleepy anyways."

As Yeosang continued to caress your head, you felt yourself being lulled to sleep. "Then sleep."

You mumbled softly, knowing you were fighting a loosing battle. "But what about spending as much time together as we can?"

Yeosang grinned to himself. "We have tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. So we have plenty of time. So if you are tired, sleep. Besides, I like when you fall asleep on me."

You smiled as you gently gripped his shirt, unable to speak again, as you lost yourself to sleep. Trying to grasp onto the last of your conscious mind, you spoke what you had hoped were intelligible words.

Yeosang chuckled as you attempted to grumble out a goodnight, but only managed some soft mumbles.

Wrapping his arms around you, he squeezed you softly. "Goodnight. I love you."

xx End xx

Simple and sweet, hope you liked it!

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @dlmlufics, @hongjoongsprincess, @tunaasan, @thedistractedwriter, @dear-dreamie

Taglist Form

#yeosang x reader #yeosang/reader #kang yeosang x reader #kang yeosang/reader #yeosang imagine #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #ateez imagine #kang yeosang imagine #kang yeosang fic #yeosang fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #12 days of christmas #yeosang oneshot #yeosang drabble #ateez drabble #ateez oneshot #yeosang fluff #yeosang x gn!reader

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ MORNING SICKNESS: SHANKS

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Being pregnant with Luffy, your first child with your husband Shanks, is a dream come true... But that doesn't make it any easier to deal with the recurring nausea."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TRANS MASC! Reader, TRANS MALE! reader, FTM reader, pregnant men, he/his pronouns, gay relationship, gay marriage, two daddies being happy, Shanks is an over-the-top father and husband, Luffy is your son's name, Shanks calls himself Daddy and calls you Papa (revenge against fan fiction with the reader being called Mama) Nausea due to pregnancy, Shanks is a very worried father and husband

꒰ WC ꒱ : 676

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : I've been on a roller coaster these last few weeks and I had decided to post on Saturday thanks to Bibi, but I almost changed my mind, I decided to be strong and post even though I was feeling like shit. I'm kind of excited but also extremely unsure about entering the world of imagines male, well we'll see how it goes

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And just like the last few nights you were abruptly woken from your not-so-peaceful sleep by the incredible need to throw up all your dinner. Your body was sweaty and hot even though you were sleeping wearing just a huge shirt from Shanks — one that he bought the wrong size and it was big even on him so it was huge on you — and your kitten print underwear that you got from a joke of Shanks in a Christmas prank.

The bedroom window was open, now with a mosquito screen since your husband was paranoid about you being bitten by an insect and dying since your pregnancy announcement, and you took advantage of the light breeze to sit on the bed and calm down a little to see if the nausea went away. There was a humidifier running, the curtains swayed slightly, and there was a child's light in the room that Shanks had bought in fear of you tripping when you got up in the dark and hurting yourself.

Sometimes you questioned whether Shanks knew that you weren't that fragile just because you were pregnant, after all you were proud of all your strength and masculine muscles... But you wouldn't deny that his extra care calmed your heart a lot. The bed was also huge, the redhead wanted to buy a bigger one after reading news about parents crushing their children for sleeping together in small beds, of course there was no point in explaining to him that this was sensational news since before you could argue he had already ordered it and paid for the new furniture.

A kick in the stomach and your dinner turning around as it climbed up your throat made you stop remembering how careful your sleeping husband was, you quickly got out of the soft covers and ran to the bedroom's bathroom. You quickly knelt on the rug in front of the toilet and it wasn't long before you were vomiting again, you loved your baby and you loved being pregnant, but you would also love to stop vomiting everything you tried to swallow.

“huh, he woke up early today” Shanks yawned as he awkwardly entered the bathroom, luckily the room was big enough for both of you.

“I shouldn’t have had dinner” you mumbled nauseously as you rested your head on the cold part of the white ceramic.

“You always say that but you always have dinner… Honestly you haven't stopped eating since you got pregnant” Shanks laughed and sat next to you, taking a towel from the cupboard and slowly wiping your face.

“It’s not me… It’s Luffy… He’s hungry like you” you teased Shanks.

“Of course… Hungry like his daddy and hyperactive like his papa” Shanks responded to the provocation and you knew he was right. If your unborn child was hungry because of the redhead, then he was also hyperactive because of you. Since, as everyone always said, you had extreme difficulty sitting around doing nothing, always looking for something to do and have fun.

“The perfect combination” you laughed tiredly as you felt the nausea slowly going away.

“Completely perfect… But look, this kid will find himself with me when he's born, making my husband vomit everything I cook for him” Shanks snorted, pretending to be irritated “He's thinking that money falls on trees so I can spend it on food and he can make you put it out?!”

You laughed but soon felt some light kicks in your stomach that made you both gasp.

“I think that was Lu telling you to go all out and he’s going to kick your old ass” you laughed, rubbing your stomach affectionately.

“Brat… Stubborn like his papa” the redhead laughed and gave you a wink “Okay, let's get you off the ground and put you in front of the window… And get you a glass of water too” the man smiled as he stood up ready to help you.

Maybe pregnancy wouldn't be so terrible if you had a husband who was so worried about you…

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