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melinoelliones · 5 months

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Gloxinia - NSFW Alphabet

THIS IS FOR THE ANON THAT ASKED FOR A NSFW ALPHABET GLOXINIA! I'm sorry it's taken so long, I've been very very sick (and still am) so everything has been on hold. I hope you enjoy, we love Gloxinia in this house <3

Remember, what I think he would do may not align with what YOU think he would do! There are x Fem Reader and X GN Reader in here. Gloxinia has two sides, he can be quite sweet but also a fuckin sadist.... so keep that in mind when you read this.

Merlin is also coming next (to who asked for her, hi hi I see you), and to all the other anons I have, I will get to you I promise!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Gloxinia would definitely be quite cuddly after, making sure you are all okay (probably looks into your heart to make sure you are ACTUALLY okay and not just saying it). Maybe a little cocky depending who was being more dominant at the time;

“you look like you’ve been through the holy war a couple times, was it that good” he’d jest, pulling you closer to his chest, as your body slowly cooled off from your high.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like he would like his own ears, they are super sensitive so when you nibble on them he crumbles almost instantly.

On you, thighs thighs thighs. He wants to touch em, be between them, anything. You will find him resting his head in your lap a lot of the time and you have zero complaints. Also your hands, I feel like he appreciates a nice pair of hands, especially yours.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

FACE! His little cocky/cheeky side pops through when he does it on your face, cooing as you try not to let any drop off.

He also loves when it runs down his fingers from you, trailing along leaving them glistening. It’s almost hypnotic.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Loves to be submissive, don’t fall for his facade.

Has probably sent himself (his soul) into the past to rewatch sessions you guys have had OR times when you have gotten off just to get HIMSELF off.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Being the dominant one, yes he’s quite experienced.

Being the submissive one, a little newbie but he loves it.

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Anything where you are tied up by his vines (vines?), you have to be in the most exposed position, unable to squirm as he gets every part of you.

Reverse cowgirl, probably so you can’t see his bright pink face almost panting as you swallow him whole.

Sideways. In the morning he enjoys rolling over and just sliding the tip into you, your sweet tired moans like music to his ears.

Facefucking kinda..... I don't think he's too aggressive with it but he does enjoy it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not like “ha ha” goofy but like “aha, are you crying already, I’m not even finished with you yet”.

“F~Fuck baby, just there, feels s~so good” he chuckled, mimicking your whines

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nicely trimmed, you’d think he was a patch of grass on a rich person's yard the way he looks after ALL of his hair.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends which side he decides to show. He will always be a little sweet in between regardless of which one he’s in.

“I know your jaw is tired but cmon baby, j~just one more” he whined, looking down at your tear stained cheeks as you slid his cock back down your throat once more. You wondered how he managed to continue to get hard after cumming several times.

His hand slid down your face, a thumb caressing your sweet cheek as you turnt your eyes to look up at him, “I promise to make you feel so good afterwards, almost like a reward for doing s~so good for me, okay?”.

You get my gist?

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

This one was a hard one for me, on ONE hand I want to say he’s such a needy prev, jacks off to you whenever he can. So desperate, so incapable of controlling himself.

But then again, I want to say he barely does it, he can wait till he’s with you to let off steam. Just jacks off every once in a while.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Fearplay/BDSM/KnifeKinkKinda?. That little sadist feeds off of watching you in pain as long as it's inflicted by him and him alone. Has probably already carved a G into your upper thigh with his vines.

“Awww your bleeding” Gloxinia smirked, running his fingertips across the crimson rising from your skin, your whines as he did so only bringing him more joy. “Does that feel good? Having me leave future marks on you”.

Having you tied up, all exposed and vulnerable.

Overstimulation, for not only you but him too. On his call though.

Dacryphilia 100%, he would mock your pretty little face as you cry.

“Couldn’t even hold in your tears?” he cooed sarcastically, pulling your face towards him and swiping his tongue across one of them, “Good, because I love to see them”.

Choking but again with the vines, your sweet gasps ringing through, your half lidded eyes looking straight into his as your body tingles.

I don't know if this a kink but tentacle play? He has used his tenth form to fuck you from behind as you suck him dry.

L = Location (favourite places to do they do)

He can cover you both with the basquias 10th form (the green tentacle thing) so location is never an issue. But taking you back to the fairy king's forest is definitely top 3, if not 1.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You begging for him, your needy body moving on its own because you need him so badly, he could almost smell the desperation trickling from your skin.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

I feel like he would be open to TRY anything at least once, and I mean anything.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I feel like he would be a little bitch and only like to recieve, BUT in the end he always ends up having his face between your thighs acting like he doesn’t wanna be there when he does.

“You came so quickly, you begged for me to do this and you think we are done?”, he jested, pushing your twitching thighs back towards your chest, “I could do this all day, I don’t want to come up from here until you can’t even mumble out my name”.

Before you could even get a word out, you felt the guys harsh tongue delve back into your already sensitive core, your wetness helping it to slide in effortlessly, “F~Fuck” was all you managed to hiss out as your thighs almost swallowed his head allowing him to get deeper, his fingertips brushing over your already swollen bun as you twitch and turn. He had not even let your body refresh from your previous high, but he didn’t care.

Also

“Why the long face, is it because you haven’t got off yet” the guy pouted, mocking you as you crossed your arms. If anyone knew how to push your buttons, it was him, but he also knew your limits. You jumped slightly as he flew over to you in an instant, your faces a mere few inches from one another “Cmon then, I’ll give you what you want, but on one condition..... I will choose when you’re done”.

Gloxinia loves having you suck him off, anytime, anyday, he’ll take it. He is also not afraid to tell you when he needs you.

“Cmoooon, I know you wanna help me, come” he chuckled, your lustful eyes telling him everything he needed to know as you walked over to him, “good girl, you listen so well” he pressed a sweet kiss upon your head as you knelt down.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a tease. A horrible tease. But you give it back to him ten fold. Fast until you are at your max, then he stops or slows down until you are just starting your high, then picks up the speed dramatically.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not super often, maybe like once a week.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Risk as in try something new, yes. Risk as in, in public, out in the open, 50/50.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Can go like 2 or 3 rounds, with oral though, no limit.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I don’t think he uses toys on himself at all, why when he has you?

He occasionally uses them on you if you insist.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A silly amount.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When he’s fucking you he’s not super loud but he is very dirty.

When you are doing anything to him his cocky side melts away, he whimpers and whines like no one is around for miles. There has been a FEW times where you even had him a crying babbling mess while you overstimmed him. RARE but it has happened (he didn’t realise how much he likes it).

“It feels so f~fucking good baby, don’t stop, p~please” he clenched his jaw, his body unable to keep still as tears rolled down his cheeks. You had made him cum so many times he stopped counting, his hair a mess against the pillow as his thoughts slowly slipped away leaving only a blank mind that wanted nothing more but to release by your hand.

“P~Please keep going, fuuuuck just like that”

“Y~You look so pretty with m~my cock down your throat”, he hissed, head rolling back as you hummed, allowing him to slip down your throat.

“You’re swallowing me in, i~if you keep this up I don’t know how long I’ll last”

“So loud, it’s almost like you want the commandments to hear you, this cocoon isn’t soundproof and you know it” Gloxinia grinned, watch

“Louder baby, I can’t hear those sweet moans of yours”

W = Wild card (a random dirty headcanon for the character)

Not opposed to either watching you with another person.

Would be up for doing stuff while you sleep, for his own benefit of course (says him). Only with consent.

Gets unusually turned on by just kissing you, he loved doing it, especially when it's a messy, needy, desperate kiss where you both almost forget you need to breathe.

Not mad at the idea of you fucking him with a strap, if you guys already have then he wouldn't mind doing it more often. Like I said before, he likes to be submissive but acts like he doesn't so I know he wants it.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

More on the slender side and not large either. He makes up for it in bed though.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty average, but when he’s stressed it goes up.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Likes to snuggle up, then will sleep only after you do. He has a heart and needs to know you are comfortable after whatever you both did as sometimes he can be intense.

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whorediaries-09 · 3 months

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remember how I'd fly to you?💋 another one bc my mind RAN with ideas coquette-y!reader gives siri flowers and he's surprised because she remembered his favorite flower and reader doing lovey-dovey little things (taking care of him when he's drunk, washing his hair softly, giving him massages, making hot cocoa for him) while he stares at her in awe.

okay i kinda like how this one turned out 🎀

lavender haze;

pairing- sirius black x reader warning(s)- mutual pinning, tooth rotting fluff, alcohol. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- i just wanna stay...

the slut club

i feel the lavender haze creepin' up on me

'sirius did you get your helmet?' your startled shout echoes from your house. it's still carries its softness, the healing aura when it falls on sirius' eardrums. he hears your muffled pacing around in the hall. he wonders what you're searching for, sandals or his helmet. he doesn't think you'd like to get your soft bunny slippers dirty.

he bumps his black boot against the gravel of the road, twisting and turning around his motorbike keys. he hears your footsteps echo in your pretty garden as you approach him. his black helmet in your hands, a stark contrast against your pretty pastel colored dress you wore.

'how could forget your helmet sirius!' you scold. but there's no grimace in your tone, or anger. it's pure and raw, honey coated words from your vocal cords. he throws you a lopsided smile. one that makes your heart flutter and do somersaults against your ribcage.

'it ruins my hair,' he says. you knit your eyebrows together, standing on your tiptoes, sliding the helmet across his head. biting your lip, you clasp it under his jaw.

'well you'll have to shave it off if you...' you advise, shaking your head at the horrible thought. his smile softens, as he throws his arm around your neck, pulling you closer. you breathe in his warm scent of cedar and mahogany. his hot breathe fans over your face before he presses a soft peck on your forehead. you close your eyes as heat rushes under your skin.

'i'll be safe from now on, sweetie,' he whispers against your hot blazing skin. your hand crawls over his leather jacket, as you pat him, slowly moving away from his hold. because you're sure that if you don't you'll combust right then and there.

'promise?' you ask. he inserts his key into his bike, turning on the engine. patting his helmet he nods,

'promise.'

the 'just for you' remains silent.

******

you sink your knees into the mud, planting another healthy batch of gloxinias, heathers. daisies and yarrows. your garden isn't very huge, but it's not too small either. it's patched with pretty flower beds and well mowed fresh grass. the abyss of the soft hues of pinks, lavenders and whites melt to form a garden so very like you.

sirius thinks it's endearing how much you take care of flowers. he likes them too, especially the daisies. he wonders how it would feel if you braided them into his hair, but he doesn't want to pick your carefully cultivated flowers.

he doesn't want the flowers on his hair, he thinks. he just wants to feel your fingers running through the locks. and the flowers seem to be an excuse to keep something from you. something like a souvenir. something to keep near him, knowing how much love and effort you put in to grow them.

he sinks his hand into the packet of groceries, pulling out a tray of strawberries.

'hi sweetie,' he says, standing by you. you jump a little, seemingly startled by his sudden appearance. he doesn't blame you. he finds you adorable when you're surprised...well no he finds you adorable all the time. so maybe he'd done it on purpose.

his heart skips a beat as you stand up, wiping your dirty, muddy hands on your apron. your hair is tousled, messy. your eyes reflect the shimmer of the sun, but nothing beats the shine of your smile.

'i brought you strawberries,' he hands you the tray of strawberries. you smile at him, and his heart melts. he's so in love with you, he thinks. it's endearing, how much he wants to kiss your lips, comb your tousled hair, paint your nails with pretty pastel colors, pick out sundresses for you.

'thank you, pretty,' you say. he throws you a lopsided smile. his mind reels with the nickname you used for him...pretty. he's putty in your hands and you don't even know it. he's devoted to you and you don't even know it.

'i'm gonna make it into a jam, would you want some?' you ask.

'i'd love some,'

he doesn't really want you, he loves you.

*****

it was slow. it progressed eventually. when the looks in a crowded room began to wander about solely for him. when you laughed at the silliest jokes by him. when you wore his black leather jacket on a cold day, just to realize you'd like to submerge in his scent forever. when you held his hand for the first time and the sparks crawled under your skin. when the gray skies and beaches only seemed appealing when they were the shade of his eyes.

it took a lot of convincing from lily for you to realize. you didn't really have a crush on sirius. no, you didn't want him.

you loved him.

you'd broken a few flowers from your garden. heathers, yarrows and daisies. you'd tied them together, making a little bouquet. though you weren't sure he'd like it, considering the bouquet looked like a mess. a beautiful mess none the less.

taking in a breath you knocked on his door. you heard shuffling around in his hallway, before the door swung upon, revealing a shirtless sirius. his chest was clad in tattoos, which rather hid under the t-shirts he wore. his gray sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips, revealing his happy trail. fuck, you thought, gulping slowly. you felt the heat crawl under your skin to your neck and ears, your eyes drifting to your shoes.

the sight haunted you, in the best way possible. and even though you could stare at him all day, you were just his friend.

a friend who was hopelessly in love with him.

'hav-have i interrupted something?' you ask, even though no other shoes were visible other than his.

'god, no sweetie, i was hot,'

you are hot, you think wordlessly.

'you can look, i promise,' he says. his voice carries a teasing tone. you're sure you feel your heart burst out from your ribcage and your legs turn shaky when you look at him, leaned against his doorframe, his hand tucked away in his pocket. his smile burns through you, as you hand him the jam and the bouquet of flowers. he's visually speechless. his eyebrows knitted into an unreadable emotion. you wonder what he thinks.

'thanks, love,' he says, nudging his finger against his scrunched up nose. love...he says. he'd never used it before...

you want nothing but to sink into his arms and kiss him.

*****

he wraps his hands around your body. he's sure he smells like whiskey, beer and things you don't like. but you're soft, and he's drunk. he needs you, he needs the one he loves close by. he needs to feel your skin upon his. he needs to submerge himself into your scent.

'pretty, you're drunk,' your house smells so homely. he wants to sink in your cave and presence for an everlasting period. he wants to coat his eardrums into your honey weaved voice forever.

'i knowww,' he slurs. he hears you locking the door. you house smells of vanilla and sugar. he wonders whether he had interrupted your baking session. he wonders whether you're angry at him for drinking. but your beautiful eyes speak nothing. he knits his eyebrows, tucking your head under his jaw. he presses your head against his chest.

'did i interrupt something?'

'no,' you chuckle. he thinks it's the most beautiful melody he's heard.

'sirius, you should take a bath...i'll draw you one yeah?'

he blinks as you separate yourself from him. you guide him to your couch, telling him to sit down and open his shoes. he unbuckles the belt of his boots, before he hears the splashing of water against ceramic.

'sweetie, will you wash my hair?' he says, when he sees you waddle back into the hall. you play with your fingers clumsily, not quite meeting his gaze.

'you're sure?' you whisper.

'yeah,' he nods. his heart somersaults when you agree. so he walks into your washroom. the bubbles in the bathtub shimmer under the moonlight that enter through the window. your bath smells of watermelons and strawberries. he strips himself off his clothes, sinking under the hot water.

'love, you can come in,' he shouts. you slowly walk into your bathroom. he's thrilled, to say the least. to be soaked in your scent. to finally feel your fingers against his scalp. his heart flutters, when you kneel down beside him, grabbing the bottle of shampoo.

the silence is comforting, soaked in an effervescent of pure bliss and innocence. neither of you speak, afraid to jinx the moment. because it feels unreal, a haze. but it's real, your eyes boring into his, your fingers rubbing into his scalp. it's real, his hot breath fanning over your face. it's real, how he feels so close yet so far away. it's real, when he finally breaks the silence.

'i love you, sweetie,'

'you're drunk,'

'in love,'

*****

the smell of hot chocolate mixes with your spritz of cherries. you feel the hot gaze of sirius burn your back through you. he thinks there's nothing not to love about you. he's not drunk from alcohol anymore, but he remembers confessing. he remembers being drunk in love.

because he is, right now. and he wants to be all the time, if it's you he loves.

and he doesn't regret it, no. the poems he'd written about you would never compare to the ethereal love he feels for you. the paints melting on canvas could never capture your beauty. they could never capture how you made him feel. they could never capture the softness of your voice. they could never capture the feeling of your hair against his fingers. they could never capture the feeling of your body pressed against his. they could never capture the random scribbles of your fingers on his back. they could never capture the beauty of your eyes. they could never capture your sunny smile. they could never capture the taste of your jams or cookies. they could never capture the taste of your lips against his.

they could never capture you.

not when your lips melted with his, when you hand him the cup of hot cocoa.

287 notes · View notes

satoruin · 5 months

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➣ sunrise to sunset — 6:30am

pairing: dan heng x gn!reader

word count: 3.4K

summary: your annual summer visit to your grandparents results in meeting someone new, someone you find yourself falling for quickly.

notes from lee: got this idea from the very lovely vera's (@verxsyon) post that you can read here! but it's been rattling around in my brain for months and i have a pintrest board dedicated to it... this is just the first part since this only got through 3 of 13 bullet points...

It’s become somewhat of a tradition to fly out to see your grandparents and work at their local flower shop during your summers. This summer was no different, finishing your semester and exams and catching a red-eye flight.

As you exit the cab and walk to the shop front, you can feel just how tired you are: jetlagged with tired eyes and unsteady legs. It’s too early for the store to be open, but you know that the back door on the porch is almost always unlocked.

You start making your way around the shop, and once around the corner, the rising sun blinds you. You put up your hand to block out the sun, but something else blocks the light, making your hand useless. Well, it’s more like someone, and he’s ridiculously handsome. The sunrise gives him a picturesque backlight, something no one should look that good with.

“Um, is there something I can help you with?” The man asks, with a cocked head. He’s wearing an apron with your name embroidered on it, gardening gloves, and rubber boots. He’s holding the worn metal tub you’ve used for picking flowers before; it’s filled with begonias, gloxinias, hellebores, and monkshoods.

You’re shocked by many things, but mainly that he’s wearing your apron, so your response comes delayed and confused, “I live here?”

“Are you sure? That sounded more like a question.” He chuckles awkwardly, and it’s maybe the best laugh you’ve heard in your life

You wave your hands in the air as if you could clear out the embarrassment. “Sorry, I mean, my grandparents live here.”

“Oh! Then you must be,” he gestures to your name embroidered on the apron, “Let me grab your bag.”

“I’ve got it. Just finish your flower picking. Opening won’t wait for you.” You smile tiredly at him, your fatigue starting to catch up the longer you stand chatting with the cute guy.

He chuckles and steps out of the way to let you through towards the back porch with the unlocked door. You pull your suitcase up the stairs behind you as it makes an obnoxious thump. You can see your grandma and grandpa sitting at the table, sipping on their mugs. Their heads turn at the shut of the screen door, but don’t call out your name. “Dan Heng, we’ve made you coffee. Don’t worry, it’s black, no cream or sugar.”

“Dan Heng? Is that the young guy you have out there doing your chores?” The smiles on both their faces stretch wider, revealing their wrinkled faces that have smile lines and crow's feet, a true sign of their happiness.

“Oh, honey! It’s such a treat to see you here.” Your grandma stands up to pinch your cheeks, and you let her.

“I come every summer; if anything, I’m a nuisance.” She slaps your cheek lightly at your remark.

“Interest you in any coffee?” Your grandpa asks, already starting another pot. Though, it’s more likely for your grandma than you.

“I just want to sleep, so I’ll go to my room if you don’t mind.” You trudge up the stairs again, followed by the same thud of the suitcase. The room is just to the right of the stairway landing, but the door is ajar. You can see some clothes on the floor and the bed unmade. You shout to your grandparents, “Did you guys have a guest? There’s some stuff in here.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling, just get you some sleep.” You can tell there’s some undertone to her words, but you don’t care to decipher it.

You shrug and place your suitcase against the wall. You can’t be bothered to change right now, so just your shoes plop onto the floor as you do the same on the bed.

It smells like the laundry detergent your grandparents keep and something else you can’t quite place. Whatever it is, it’s comforting and lulls you to sleep nicely.

When you wake up, the clock blares in angry red numbers, telling you you’ve been asleep for around four hours. The blinds make the sunlight appear in stripes across the bedding. You take yourself downstairs to the kitchen area you had been in earlier.

Before you rummage through the fridge, you poke your head into the flower shop. Your grandma comes over as soon as she sees you. “Honey, you’ve got bedhead.” She has you bend so her hands can smooth over your hair to the best of her ability.

“Is that Dan Heng guy working the front?” You peek around the corner.

Your grandma follows suit. “Mmhm, his cute face brings in all the customers, so your grandpa and I make him. But he’s got a young body, so he moves stuff for us too.”

“So he runs the whole store? I hope you pay him well.” You laugh, joking with your grandma, but she looks at you and gives a nervous smile. “Oh my god, you don’t pay him.”

She plays with her fingers as she explains, “Well, it’s not that we don’t offer to pay him, he just doesn’t accept. He’s kinda like you, just lives with us and works.”

“That’s why my room is dirty? Gran, there’s a guest room for a reason.” You motion up to where the room is and try not to sound too irritated.

“Y’know that room has been filled for a long while, plus we didn’t know you were coming, hon! No letters, emails, or calls to the landline. So we let him borrow the room. He’s so nice and helpful. He’d be such a good husband,” she tries to explain but gives away her ulterior motive: matchmaking.

You give her a deadpan look at the revelation. “Do you know anything about him other than his name?”

“No, but…” She starts but trails off.

“Point proven! Yes, he’s very good-looking, and according to you, a hard worker, but beyond that, you and I don’t know anything. How can either of us consider him to be husband material off the three things we know about him?” You ask her seriously, not noticing that the man in question is peeking around the corner as you had done earlier.

“I heard my name?” His pink-tinged ears tell you he has heard at least some of your conversation.

She pats Dan Heng on the shoulder and tells him, “Oh, don’t worry, doll, I’m just telling ‘em how the two of you should get married.”

Both of you shout her name, but she doesn’t appear startled.

He opens his mouth to say something, hopefully, to dispute what your grandma had said, but the bell rings at the door front. “We’ll talk later, okay?” He looks straight at you, and waits for your confirmation, even with the urgency of a customer at the front desk. When you nod, he seems to relax a bit and nods back.

He disappears around the corner, and you look down at your grandma with hands on your hips. She only smiles and shrugs.

After inhaling what you can from the fridge, you decide it’d be best to start cleaning the spare room. It’s not like you could share a bed with Dan Heng.

When you get up there and open the door to the room, it’s packed full of boxes. The labeled boxes are ones you’ve seen in the attic, so you yell down to ask about it. “Gran, what’re the attic boxes doing in the guest room?”

Though you expect your Grandma to answer it's your Grandpa who replies, “There was a leak in the roof, so we had to move it all.” You hear as he climbs up the stairs and stands next to you. “I’m getting too old to go up the ladder with all that weight, so it’s just staying here.”

The room is practically overflowing with boxes, picture frames, and other odd-shaped items that didn’t fit in boxes. The mattress and disassembled bed frame are rested against the wall, trapped behind the stuff within the room. You certainly had your work cut out for yourself if you wanted Dan Heng out of your room by tonight.

You sigh just thinking about the work that needs to get done, and your Grandpa takes it as a sign. “Just wait until I ask Dan Heng to come up here. He'll be a big help. He moves all the stuff for the shop all the time.”

Before you can say anything, your Grandpa is down the stairs and poking his head into the flower shop, much like you had before with your Grandma. You can hear Dan Heng talking with your Grandpa, but you can’t make out the words.

You do, however, hear a new set of footsteps walking up the stairs, nothing quite like the heavy clomp of your grandfather’s or the light tread your grandmother has. Instead, his footsteps are almost silent, only the creaking of the floorboards gives him away.

You’re listening so intently to the footsteps that you don’t notice when he’s behind you until he puts a hand on your shoulder. You flinch dramatically at his touch, which makes him retract his hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes quickly.

You start to explain what you need help with when the AC clicks on. The incredibly loud sound of the fan is accompanied by the door slamming shut. You forgot that this door needed to be held open so that the AC didn’t glue it closed. It was a result of the house being old, as the AC tended to keep the door shut with the force of the airflow coming out of the fan. It was common for you to find yourself stuck when you were younger. So, for the time being, you were stuck with Dan Heng in the overcrowded room of boxes.

You sigh, sit atop one of the boxes, and pat the one next to you. “You wanted to talk, right? Let’s do it now while the AC runs through.”

He sits upon your request and sighs similarly. “I don’t think I’ve formally introduced myself, I’m Dan Heng.” He reaches his hand out for you to shake.

You take his hand and say your name, not that he doesn’t know it. “So about earlier…” you trail, trying to find the least embarrassing words to say, “My grandparents like playing matchmaker for me, but I can promise I didn’t put them up to it, so it'd be best if you forgot about it.”

“Consider it forgotten then.” He laughs but turns to you to ask, “But that’s not all you wanted to talk about, right?” His eyebrows raise as he looks at you with a pointed look. He’s already seen through you.

Though you feel shy under his gaze, you know you have to ask the questions your grandparents wouldn’t, “Why are you here in the first place?”

He answers right away, likely expecting the question. “It was raining hard, and I stepped into the first shop there was. They gave me dry clothes and a meal. Since the storm hadn’t subsided, they let me stay the night in your room, which I didn’t know belonged to you. I tried to pay your grandparents, but they refused, so I’ve been working to repay them.”

“Is that the only reason you’re here? Can you promise you’re not a serial killer or taking advantage of my grandparents?”

“Do I really look like that kind of person?” He sighs, looking slightly concerned at your accusation of him.

You don’t outright answer him with a yes or no, but instead prod further. “I mean, there was a serial killer who lured his victims in by being handsome. Who’s to say you’re not the same?” You ask, only realizing you’d outright called him handsome to his face after the words came out.

He’s unfazed by your unintentional flattery and puts his hand on his chest. “I promise I am not a serial killer, nor taking advantage of your grandparents' kindness and hospitality.”

“Pinky swear?” You hold out your pinky to him, a childish gesture, but it’d put your worries to rest if he indulged you.

He loops his pinky with yours and repeats you with a firm tone, “Pinky swear.”

You stifle a laugh at his sincerity and seriousness. “I think my grandparents are actually taking advantage of you, but I’m glad to know I won’t be murdered in my sleep.”

“Good, I was starting to get worried that I wouldn’t be able to convince you.” He tells you honestly, and you can’t help but laugh at his admittance. He looks at you and chuckles while shaking his head. Your cheeks begin to feel warm at the sound, and something’s definitely changed about the way you view him.

The whirring of the fan finally falls silent, and the door audibly unsticks from the doorframe, breaking you from your train of thought. You pop up from where you sat almost automatically and open the door, so you’re no longer trapped.

You pull on the string connected to the ceiling, and the folded ladder cascades down until it reaches the floor. You walk up only a few steps so you can pop your head in and assess what the situation is. There are definite signs of water damage and plywood amateurly nailed to the slanted ceiling. It smells just as nostalgic and musty as you remember with the slight scent of rainwater that’s permeated through the wood. It’s seemingly all dry now, so it should be fine to put the boxes and miscellaneous things in the guest room up in the attic now.

You waddle down the ladder, and Dan Heng reaches his hand up to place his hand on your lower back in support. His hand moves with you until he watches your feet touch on the floor before trailing his gaze back up to your eyes.

You hesitate because of the tingly feeling you have due to his actions, which he seems to not pick up on as you tell him, “If you stand on the ladder, I’ll pass you the boxes, and you can just shove them up into the attic.”

You pick up the closest box to the door, it’s filled with empty picture frames, ones that your grandparents had sworn they would fill with pictures and hang. After picking up the box, you move to the side of the ladder and balance the box on your head so it’ll be easier for him to grab the box from you.

His arms wrap around the box easily and his hands brush against yours briefly. After he takes the box, you look up to make sure he’s not struggling with it. As you check, his black tee rides up and gives you a peek of his stomach and the well defined muscles that lie underneath. You look away before he can catch you staring and grab another box from the room.

The two of you work in tandem until you’ve got a bulk of the boxes out of the room, at least enough for the mattress to be put down. With Dan Heng’s help, you drag the mattress to the middle of the room and push the rest of the boxes to the wall for now. Neither of you have the energy to put together the frame, so the bed stays on the floor.

You flop onto the bed and sigh, the room is a sad excuse for a living space and you’re starting to feel bad for condemning Dan Heng to it. The mattress creaks and dips as Dan takes a seat next to you. “Thanks for your help with the boxes. It’s not perfect but it’ll be sleepable for tonight. It’s better than sharing a bed with me, at least.” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh.

“It’s more than enough for me. In fact it’s probably more than I deserve.” He says quietly, playing with his fingers.

“Why would you say that? You deserve a place to sleep, a roof over your head, and payment for your work.” You bring up the issue that your grandmother had told you about earlier, if you were going to interrogate him, you’d find out about all of it.

He shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it.” You sit up and look at him with a pointed look trying to get him to tell you, but he's saved by your grandma calling for dinner. You watch as he scrambles out the uncomfortable atmosphere of the room.

Dan Heng’s words rattle around in your head as you do the dishes after dinner. After putting the leftovers in tupperware, you let it cool before you put on a lid and into the fridge. You put a swirl of soap in the bottom of the stock pot before letting it fill with hot water, soapy suds forming and rising with the water. You turn off the water right before it threatens to spill over, much like your thoughts.

You let the pots soak while you truly ponder over Dan Heng’s words. What made him feel like he wasn’t deserving of basic human rights? Was he some kind of runaway or criminal? You shake your head at the last thought, he told you he wasn’t a murderer and his reaction alone told you that he wouldn’t be capable enough to go through with something violent. What about a faraway prince that was exiled like in a Hallmark movie? You laugh to yourself at that, those kinds of scenarios didn’t happen in real life.

There is nothing you want more than to just flop into your bed and sleep, but you’re grimy with sweat from moving things around earlier. Walking into your room is just another reminder of things you have to do before you can rest.

Dan Heng is there, knelt on the floor and picking up his belongings. He gives an awkward smile and finishes zipping up his duffle and leaves.

You stare at the unmade bed and remember how well you slept in it this morning. You do need to wash the sheets though, you can’t let Dan Heng’s scent permeate into your brain more than it already has. It dawns on you that he’ll need bedding too so you walk to the linen closet.

When the creaky door opens you can see there’s only one set of bedding. Of course, you have to give Dan bedding, so it’s either you don’t wash your bedding or you wait up until it’s done.

You take the bundles of fabric and take it to his room. He’s not there but you don’t care and start to put the sheets on. It’s certainly a challenge as the bed is on the floor so it takes many trips around the bed and picking it up before you get the sheets on.

There’s no pillows on the bed, but there’s some vacuum sealed ones up in the closet so you step up on one of the boxes that’ll hold for a second and pull down the bag. You don’t know how you don’t hear Dan Heng, but when you turn around he’s there, wrapped in a towel and dripping all over the rug.

“Oh.” He makes a small noise of surprise and you can see a pink flush visibly spread from his cheeks up to the tips of his ears and down to his chest.

You’re quick to slap both hands over your eyes and drop the vacuum sealed bag to the floor. (Not quick enough that you don’t have the image ingrained to your eyelids though.) “I am so sorry. I was just putting sheets on the bed, I didn’t mean for…” You trail, not sure how to put this encounter into words.

With one hand still over your eyes, you reach the other one out to find the wall and stumble out of the room. Once you reach the door frame, you outstretch your arm behind you aimlessly to find the door handle and shut yourself out of the room with another few sorrys.

Once in your own room, you collapse into the bed despite your earlier reluctance to do so. It still smells like Dan Heng.

#[ lee's writing ]#dan heng x gender neutral reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader #dan heng #hsr x reader #hsr #imbibitor lunae #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n #honkai star rail #star rail #dan heng x gn reader #[ + ] hsr #! dan heng

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kseung · 1 year

Text

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Gloxinias

Requested

Warnings: None.

Words: 930~

It's much more loosely based on Jazz Bar than intended, but it's more of a personal note to me. I drew the gloxinia on the photo 🕺

You being such a nerd sometimes led you to know some very useful information. For example; you knew that the largest padlock in the world weighs 916 pounds, something that had particularly interested Wednesday; you knew pigs did not sweat, therefore creating the need for pigs to use mud to cool off; you also knew that Violacea Purple Gloxinia, scientifically Sinningia Speciosa, meant love at first sight, along with enchantment, respect, and admiration.

That was how you'd describe what you felt for Wednesday when you got to know her more. She liked to be mysterious, but there was only so much she can do with such a perceptive partner. You noticed she liked flowers. Well, one flower. The black dahlia.

You made sure to give two flowers every saturday. A black dahlia and another one you picked depending on what you wanted to tell her. Sometimes that you admired her, or cared for her or, maybe even, liked her.

She's not that different from you. You'd say that one of the differences was that she was, by far, more of an edgelord. But that is most of it. For being such a cynical girl, you found out that she's quite sweet.

It'd be your second official date tomorrow, a Saturday. You were happy about it. You knocked on her window, asking for permission to enter. Doors are overrated anyway.

The circle swiveled, opening up an entrance by which Thing waited. He motioned that Wednesday was there, on her typewriter. You nodded and entered behind the oh-so-sweet appendage.

—Buenas noches.

—Hello, mi amor.

You smiled at her nickname. "My love" sounds good, but it's the best when she says it. That way you know she means it. She's not that type of liar.

You had been given a response, so you didn't push it further. You laid down on her bed, thinking about the way youd give her the flowers. You knew you wanted it to be special, whatever special may mean.

—Wednesday.

—...

—Timeframe?

—20 minutes.

—Reasonable.

You wanted to cuddle her. Well, her version of it. It was just laying while holding pinkies. It was sweet. Very sweet of Wednesday.

20 minutes are short when you sleep. Still, you woke up to Wednesday laying down besides you. You turned on your side, looking at her. She returned the favor.

You always found it amazing how her eyes were so expressive, at least to you.

—I feel I love you.

—I like you.

You smiled. She was doing well, especially since she has such aversion to feelings. She held your pinky with hers, making your smile widen. She's such a sweetheart. Little nightmare of yours.

—Do you mind if I stay over tonight?

She just pointed to her closet.

•••••

—Amor, wake up.

Wednesday's voice sounded muffled. It took some minutes before you realized that you were almost smothering while asleep, all because you love holding her. You opened your arms, letting her have the choice. Flight or freeze, in this case.

Or both.

She moved, creating a little distance but still having your arm on her. It was a nice thing to wake up to. Your lovely, lovely, gothic girlfriend.

—Love, I'm up...

You chuckled, looking at her still sleepy. She's the best sight to wake up to. And she could say the same thing.

Usually, she'd already been up. But it was the weekend, she was sleepy, and you were with her. Sleeping late once wouldn't be that bad. She decided to let you sleep for a little longer while she caressed your cheek.

After some mintes, you opened your eyes again.

—I'm hungry. Let's get breakfast.

Finally.

She got up, sitting on her bed before staning up and walking to her closet. You grabbed yesterday's clothes, putting them back on as Wednesday picked her own garments, speedy as to not take long. Your stomach was already complaining.

She said nothing, just looked at you and motioned to the door. You said "yes", and walked up to her. Today was gonna be exciting.

•••••

Breakfast and morning finished, and you returned to her room. Thing made you a favor, having arranged some pillows and two flowers on the balcony. He made you a sign when you entered.

You grabbed her hand, silently dragging her out. The day was pretty cloudy and chilly, very, very beautiful. You sat on one of the pillows, urging Wednesday to follow your steps. She did.

—These are for you.

You gave her both flowers. She gave the littlest of smiles. You celebrated internally. She took them as she always did. She took the Dahlia first, looking at it. By this point, she has a collection of Dahlias you've given her. But the other flower was new.

—Tell me about it.

You did.

—It's a Gloxinia. Sinningia Speciosa, if you will. They mean "love at first sight". This purple one means admiration, among other things. I think it represents what I feel for you quite well, actually.

She looked at you. Feelings made people soft, and she didn't like it, but you always said the same thing to her. "It takes a stronger person to be vulnerable and still function than not to feel." It was admirable, even if she also thought it was stupid at times.

—I appreciate the gesture. Thank you.

You looked at her and smiled. Even if she didn't want to, you knew she loved you every single time she looked at you. She kept the flowers in her hand, carefully handling them so as not to damage them. She may like pain, but not to things you give her.

—Always.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday adams #wednesday #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagines #wednesday imagine #fanfic

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sunshinearc · 1 year

Text

Rules:

I have a busy life so do not come for me if I don't do your request fast.

This is a mlm/nblm blog only. Fem aligned dni

When requesting as state character, plot and gn or male reader along with whether or not you want fluff, angst, smut etc.

No scat piss or rape

I do cc x cc as well although this is mainly a x reader blog

I will do some ships as well as other posts besides reader such as character angst. Feel free to request no readers or ships, as well as angst.

Fandom list + characters I write for.

Twisted Wonderland

Leona Kingscholar

Ruggie Bucchi

Idia

Malleus Draconia

Lilia Vanrouge

Vil

Rook Hunt

Epel

Seven Deady Sins

Zeldis

Ban

Meliodas

King

Estarossa

Gloxinia

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

Kim Dokja

You joongyhuk

Genshin Impact

Aether

Scaramouche

Cyno

Tighnari

Al-haitham

Zhongli

Pantalone

Dottore

Childe

Xiao

Venti

Obey me

Literally everyone

Luke is sfw only

Dc Comics

Nightwing/Dick Grayson

Bruce Wayne/Batman

Jason Todd/Red Hood

Tim Drake/Red Robin

Damian Wayne/Robin (sfw only unless aged up)

Fairytail

Natsu

Gray

Sting

Rogue

Gajeel

Cobra

Laxus

Freed

Mest

Acnoglia

Zeref

Black Clover

Yami Sukehiro

Nozel Silva

Finral Roulacase

Zora Ideale

Asta

Yuno

Luck Voltia

Magna

Fuegolian Vermillion

William Vangeance

A Certain Scientific Accelerator

Accelerator

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime

Rimuru Tempest

Veldora

Diablo

Benimaru

Grucius

Youm

Blue Exorcist

Rin Okumura

Amaimon

Tokyo Revengers(this includes bonten,etc)

Hanagaki Takemichi

Mikey/Manjiro Sano

Draken

Mitsuya

Baji

Kazutora

Sanzu

Rindou

Ran

Taiju

Percy Jackson and the Olympians(includes Heroes of Olympus and Trials of Apollo)

Percy Jackson

Nico di angelo

Will Solace

Jason Grace

Leo Valdez

Avatar (James Cameron Movies)

Jake Sully

Lo'ak

Neteyam

Spider

Aonoung

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iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year

Text

Magical Blooms

Genre: romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: none I think?

Written for: @spnchristmasbingo

Square filled: Flower Shop AU

SPN Masterlist

My first ever Dean Winchester fic and I’m terrified. Please let me know what you think! Also, all the flowers used at each part of the story are used for a reason…

This wasn't a big deal. Nope. No. Not at all. Not in the slightest. Actually, it was the exact opposite of a big deal. An insignificant speck if you will. And one that certainly hadn’t even registered on your radar. After all, there was a flurry of customers walk through the doors to Magical Blooms each and every day, and quite a number of these were regulars. Just because one of those regulars was an undeniably gorgeous man that flirted shamelessly, owned more flannel than you thought possible for one person, had adorable bow legs, and the most captivating green eyes that you had ever seen was most certainly not a big deal. And just because he was inexplicably absent today after you’d seen him every Friday without fail for the last six months was also not a big deal. It's not like you had really noticed anyway, having spent the morning softly singing Christmas songs along to the radio whilst putting together a similarly themed bouquet with holly, pine, and red chrysanthemums. And okay, maybe you were secretly hoping he would love said bouquet, but that also wasn’t a big deal. You just liked to please your customers. And anyway, all of this had to be no big deal whether you liked it or not because he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend that he came and bought flowers for weekly without fail, coming into the store and carefully choosing something different and unique rather than having an easier standing order. You couldn’t decide if he was completely in love or just an incredibly attentive boyfriend. Either way, you couldn’t let it be a big deal.

He had first rushed in to your little shop at the end of May and purchased a beautiful and remarkably expensive bouquet of white roses. You couldn’t help but drink in the way he had looked in a dark Henley, red plaid button down and jeans, shaking yourself a little to ensure you weren’t just gaping as he paid with his card. The small smirk on his face before he hurried out told you that you might not have succeeded as well as you’d hoped.

The next week he was back much to your delight; his dirty blonde hair gorgeously disheveled and green eyes sparkling at you the second he walked in. After casually browsing the shop he made a beeline towards you.

"Which of these do you like better?" he had asked as he approached, one hand holding yellow carnations and the other deep pink gloxinia. You put the pen down on top of the order form you’d been failing to fill out for the last ten minutes and forced yourself to go into professional mode. You were used to helping guys pick flowers; just because this one looked like a damn Greek god didn’t stop you doing your job.

"They are both great choices. Are they for a special someone? Or maybe a special occasion?"

"Well sweetheart, I guess I would say they’re for a special someone." he smirked, wetting his lips with his tongue and you couldn't help the way your heart beat a little faster at his deep rumble.

"Okay, well what sort of flowers does she like? Or does she have a favourite colour maybe?"

"Uh…" he faltered.

"Or he." You quickly amended, hoping you hadn't offended him. His eyes bulged a little and you were sure the flowers weren't for a man. You couldn't help feeling a little pleased.

"No." he shook his head, looking a little flustered. He took a deep breath. “No. I…" But his answer was cut short by the sharp call of Rowena, your interfering but well meaning boss and the owner of Magical Blooms.

"Y/n!"

"Excuse me just one second," you told him before meeting Rowena at the door to the back room.

"I don't pay you to flirt with customers now do I dear. I don't care how attractive they are." You felt your cheeks heat up at the volume of the older lady’s Scottish brogue. There was no way he hadn't heard her.

"Rowena!" You whispered indignantly. "Don't be embarrassing. He is buying flowers for his girlfriend!"

"Well that is a damned shame" she whispered back with a mischievous smirk, her eyes darting over to the perfection still stood at the counter. “Because that man is delicious." You rolled your eyes. You had a strange but very close relationship with the older woman having worked in her shop since you were a kid. From the way you spoke to each other though people wouldn’t have known. Most of the time your conversations sounded more like arguments. You spun on your heel with Rowena calling with a smirk "Remember I won't hesitate to fire you!"

You heaved a sigh, biting your lip to stop the retort that was brewing. Instead you made your way back to the handsome customer, plastering on a smile to cover the fact you were positive he had heard every word.

"Sorry. My boss." You rolled your eyes again.

He laughed; a deep sound that struck you low in the stomach and sent your heart into overdrive once again. "I understand, Sweetheart."

You shot him a grateful smile, keeping eye contact longer than was necessary. The green captivating you completely.

"So…do you know what flowers your girlfriend likes?" You asked again, desperately clinging on to your professionalism.

He shook his head a smirk on his handsome face. "We have only just met."

"Hmmm…." You thought briefly, glancing between the flowers. "I would say most women would probably pick the carnations out the two. They are a pretty safe bet."

He nodded but looked at you thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes, like he was trying to read your expression. "I asked which you liked better though, and you prefer the pink ones, don’t you?"

You tried to hide your surprise that he had noticed your preference for the gloxinia. You frowned and his smirk grew, his eyebrow rising mischievously.

“Yes, I just think they’re beautiful." You said honestly with a shrug. With a satisfied nod and a breath-taking smile that lit up his whole face, he quickly returned the carnations to their place.

"Gloxinia it is then!" he said; his smile boyish and utterly adorable.

You grinned back helplessly as you reached for the flowers in his hand and firmly ignored the hum of electricity in your body as your fingers gently brushed.

"My name is Dean." He said as you rung up the bouquet.

"Y/n."

That visit was just the start and you very quickly found that you looked forward to your Friday shift more than any other. Each week Dean would walk around the shop in his flannel shirt, examining all the available arrangements and then ask for your input and opinion. There was always a smile and usually a wink or flirty comment too and you couldn’t help how quickly he became your favorite customer. As the weeks went on you eventually started talking about other topics. You learnt early on about Dean’s pride and joy; a sleek black Impala that he affectionately called Baby. It almost frightened you how soon the hum of the engine became familiar to you as you eagerly awaited his next visit.

In late July he told you that he would be gone for two weeks while he visited his younger brother in California, pride once again colouring his tone. You had been taken aback at how much you had actually ended up missed him in that fortnight and realised just how important his visits had become to you. Remembering his girlfriend however you mentally scolded yourself and forced your thoughts elsewhere. But then Friday had rolled back around and he was there, almost first thing, in relaxed jeans, his favourite red plaid button down and damn it if your heart didn’t do a flip just at the mere sight of him. There was an eagerness to his expression that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he had missed you too.

"Welcome back!" You smiled despite the promises you made to yourself to take a step back. To not let yourself fall for someone who was already taken.

"Thanks sweetheart! It's so good to be back," he said as he closed the space between you. "I, er, well I brought you something." He pulled a small wrapped box from his pocket. You looked at it quizzically. "A gift, for my favorite florist." he explained. "I saw this and, well, it made me think of you."

Your eyebrows shot up; you didn't know what to say. After hesitating a moment too long he shook the box slightly for you to take.

He waited patiently, rubbing his jaw with nerves, as you unwrapped it. It was a dainty gold necklace with a small primrose pressed in glass dangling from the middle. It was beautiful and so very thoughtful. "Dean… wow. Its wonderful. I absolutely love it." You smiled up at him shyly and you saw him visibly relax as he beamed back.

"I could er, help? Put it on I mean. If you wanted me to?”

You nodded, passing him the necklace before turning slowly and moving your hair out of the way for him. You steadied your breathing as best you could, feeling your heart pound in your ears. His warm fingers brushed softly against your neck as he fastened the clasp and you felt yourself shiver involuntary. You looked back over your shoulder to him, his hot breath tickling your neck from your proximity yet he didn’t step away and you found you couldn't move either. You were trapped in a space full of his smell, his body heat, and your own thudding heart.

"Y/n. I…" Dean began only to be interrupted by the thudding of the shop door as a frantic customer came barrelling through. The spell you were both under immediately broke and you stepped away, breathless and eager to get rid of the interruption. But after fifteen gruelling minutes of helping debate the merits of pink roses over red; Dean motioned that he had to go. It was only later that night that you realised he hadn't bought any flowers.

The beautiful gift and his lack of purchase had filled you with a strange hope. Had he perhaps broken up with his girlfriend? What would he have said before you got interrupted? Would he have asked you out? The questions plagued you all night and into your shift the next day. Your fingers toying with the trinket around your neck constantly as your thoughts wandered to Dean. You were still brooding over the possibilities as you helped your best friend Benny pick out flowers for his anniversary.

"These are perfect as usual! What would I do without you, Sugar?" Came his Southern drawl as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head affectionately. You rolled your eyes at his antics when you suddenly noticed Dean in the middle of the door way, your heart soaring at his unexpected appearance. You smiled brightly but he didn’t return it; a strange, sullen, look on his face. You stopped yourself from frowning and turned back to your friend; eager for him to go so you could speak to Dean alone, preferably before Benny realised who he was as the embarrassment opportunities would be just too great for him to pass up.

“So, I’ll see you this weekend?” You say, remembering Andrea had invited you and some other friends over for dinner.

“You will indeed,” he replies easily, pressing another kiss to your hairline before retreating out the shop, the door thudding behind him.

You turned, your eyes searching the shop for Dean. Benny is long forgotten as your mind turned towards finally finishing your interrupted conversation. He was studying a wall of flowers, half turned away from you.

"Hey!" You said a little breathlessly as you reached him. "I’ve been expecting you." He turned with raised eyebrows "I mean, you know, since you didn't, er, buy anything yesterday." You gave a small smile as your stomach erupted with butterflies. Your fingers latch onto the cool glass of your necklace, the necklace he had just given you the day before, for reassurance. "The…uh… hyacinths are fresh." You gestured awkwardly at the yellow flowers in front of him. “Or I have some marigolds you might like?” You were hoping this would be it, that he was going to turn around and tell you he wasn't here for flowers. That actually, he no longer had someone to buy flowers for. Instead he sighed and pouted. "Yeah, the hyacinths are fine."

You nodded, feeling your heart sink like a stone. Ever the professional though you gesture to an arrangement. "Is this one okay?"

"Sure." He grabbed it without even really looking and swiftly walked past you, heading to the register. Silence reigned as you rung him up. Instead of bright eyes and friendly banter there was a crease in his brow and a slight frown. It was the first time you remembered feeling uncomfortable around Dean and it felt so wrong. Your mind floundered for conversation topics. You paused before handing him his receipt.

"Dean. Is everything okay?"

He finally looked at you, and flashed half-hearted smile that looked more like a grimace at best. "I'm fine, Sweetheart. Just a lot on my mind."

"Oh, sure." You replied stiffly as you handed him his receipt. He took it and turned to go. You felt a weird constriction in your throat; the meeting had not gone as planned. You grabbed at your necklace and just as he placed his hand on the door you called out. "See you next week?"

You meant it as a goodbye but you could hear the question in your voice as clear as day. He paused, tossing you a look back, and his face broke into another small smile, though this one was much more genuine. "Of course, Sweetheart. Next week."

The next week came and he appeared and things went back to normal, as if nothing had ever happened. You talked and flirted and he bought his flowers. You never took the necklace off and felt sure he must have noticed, though he never once mentioned it. You tried not to be disappointed, you tried to be satisfied with your relationship, limited as it was, and enjoy the moments you shared. Mostly you succeeded. Sometimes you couldn't help yourself and tried to pry information about his mysterious girlfriend.

"So, you two must have an anniversary coming up soon?" You asked one day in early November as he contemplated some red carnations.

"Huh?" he turned in confusion.

"Well, when your first came in at the end of May you said you had just met someone. So your six month anniversary as a couple should be coming up." You rushed to explain yourself. You glanced shyly up when he didn't immediately respond. He had a wicked smirk plastered on his face.

"Why, Sweetheart. I didn’t realise you monitored my love life so closely."

"I don’t.” You quickly covered with a roll of your eyes. “It's just my job to remember this kind of stuff. That’s all.”

“Right,” he said disbelievingly, the mischief never leaving his eyes. “And how do you know that we would even celebrate such a minor anniversary? That’s very chick flick.”

You scoffed. "Please. Dean you are such a hopeless romantic. I’d put money on you celebrating any anniversary!"

"I take offense at the idea that I am hopeless or romantic!" He points his finger at you.

"Oh come on! You literally come here to buy flowers for her every week! How much more romantic can you get?"

"Yeah well, perhaps I only come to see you." he shot back, the teasing words sounding oddly serious with his tone. You meet his gaze and find yourself unable and to look away. The moment stretched on before you finally bit your lip and turned away with your heart thundering in your ears. It was only later that night while you pondered what he could have meant that you realised he had, once again, avoided telling you anything about his girlfriend.

You thought about his words often as you absently clutched your necklace. You wondered what he had meant and if you were crazy to think he had meant anything serious.

Benny had caught you in just such a moment of contemplation last week.

"Hello! Y/n! Anybody home?" He called snapping you back to reality.

"Sorry what?"

"What is up with you today, Sugar? It’s like your not even here." Benny asked.

"It's Friday." Rowena responded from her perch behind the register. You shot her a dirty look.

“What’s Friday got to do with anything?” Benny asked, still looking confused.

“Loverboy is coming today."

"Don't call him that." You groaned as Benny perked up at the same time and asked “Loverboy?”

"Well, what should we call him?" Rowena smirked wickedly.

"Nothing! Because he is just a customer. We aren’t dating. We aren’t lovers." Rowena just raised her eyebrows, smirk unwavering and you threw your hands up in exasperation.

“Hold up,” Benny interrupted. “Is this the mysterious Dean you mentioned a few weeks back?”

“Indeed,” Rowena supplied as you pinched your nose in frustration.

“Yes, but he’s just a friend and he has a girlfriend. There’s nothing there.”

“But you like him, Honey. I can tell,” Benny points at you.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel, he’s got a girlfriend Benny. I can’t forget that.”

Benny clucks his tongue sympathetically and pulls you in for a hug.

“Can I…”

“You’re never meeting him,” you interrupt quickly, knowing exactly what your friend is going to ask.

"Actually if you stick around you are guaranteed to meet him." Rowena pointed out unhelpfully.

You pull away from Benny annoyed. “Are you still here?” You grumble to your boss. She just smiles in response and makes her way to the back room.

"That settles it. I’m staying until he shows up." Benny declares and you know better than to argue with him.

"Fine. But if you embarrass me you can find someone else to help you with Andrea’s Christmas present!"

You didn't have to wait that long; fifteen minutes later Dean came sauntering through the door. He was dressed in his usual shirt and jacket combination and of course your traitor heart sped up at the sight of him. Benny had kept out of sight as you helped Dean choose a bunch of snowdrops. He then pounced before you could move to the register.

"Y/n, do you think Andrea will appreciate this bouquet?" He rounded the corner and then gave the biggest look of fake surprise as he pretended to see Dean for the first time.

"Oh, I’m sorry, Sugar! I didn't know you were with a customer." He said with mock surprise. You barely contained your eye roll at his ridiculous antics.

You forced your tone to be bright. "No problem. Dean this is my best friend Benny. Benny, yes I’m sure your wife will love those.”

"Best friend? Wife?" You heard him murmur before Benny began speaking again.

"Me and Y/n go way back. She always knows just what my Andrea will love."

You glanced at Dean and was pleased to see a wide, goofy, grin plastered to his face.

“She always picks out the best flowers,” he agreed.

There was a pleasant pause and then Deans phone rung. He apologised and quickly walked out of the shop to answer.

"I can see why you like him Honey, and he certainly has eyes for you." Benny smiled as soon as the door closed.

“Oh, stop it,” you attempt to brush it off although you hear Rowena’s voice drift out from the back saying “I told you so!”

Dean stuck his head back in. "Sorry. Sam emergency, I’m going to have to leave town. Can I pay for these when I get back?"

"Of course! No problem."

"Thanks. See ya next week?"

You had nodded, already looking forward to next Friday.

But next Friday had come and gone and Dean had not shown up. Which, of course, was no big deal.

"Did I miss Dean today?" Rowena asks offhandedly.

"No. He didn't come in." You try to match her tone.

"Really? Well that is good news."

You jerk your head up in confusion. "What? Why?"

"Well dear, if he isn't buying flowers maybe he’s broken up with that girlfriend of his. Which means the two of you can finally stop making eyes at each other and go out."

You feel a thrill in your heart but reply sarcastically. "Please. If Dean was interested in me I think he would have made a move long ago."

Rowena’s reply was only a knowing smile and a short "Mmm-hmm".

You try not to get your hopes up. You fail miserably.

An hour later, Rowena is gone and your closing up the shop for the night. The lights are off as you pick up your keys when you hear a tap on the door. You turn around expecting a desperate customer and gasp when you see Dean grinning back at you.

He looks just like he always did; hair disheveled, a flannel shirt layered over a black tee, and just enough scruff on his face to add to the whole rugged look he had going for him.

As you walk through the darkened shop with only the street light shining through the windows you feel a mix of nerves and excitement at his arrival after Rowena’s earlier words. You unlock the door and let him in. Cold air sweeps in and you convince yourself that is why you shiver and not because of his proximity.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not too late. I only just got back into town." he says.

You shake your head. "No, it’s fine. I was just leaving." There is a pause and you realise how much more intimate the shop seems in the low light. In the shadow you can't quite make out his eyes, but he’s staring at you. "I was beginning to think maybe something awful had happened to you."

"Like what?" he asks, his teeth flashing in the dark.

"The flu, a car crash, an alien invasion?"

He shook his head. "None of those things could keep me away." His cold hand reaches out and toys with a strand of your hair. You don’t understand how such a simple gesture could suck the breath from your lungs and send your head spinning.

"Rowena thought… well that maybe you might have broken up with your girlfriend." You bite your lip, afraid of his answer.

He chuckles. "Well it seems both you and Rowena were wrong." Your stomach drops and you step back, your hope shattering and walls around your heart flying up. You wish he hadn't shown up at all now. At least then you could have had one night of blissful fantasy.

"I see. I..uh… I need to get going." Your voice dull. "Maybe try the grocery store. I am sure…"

'"No. Y/n. You don't understand." he interrupts, his hand rubbing his jaw. "I don't have a girlfriend."

"What? Since when?" Of all the things you thought Dean might say this was not one of them.

He grins sheepishly, dips his head and rubs his neck. "I never even had a girlfriend. The first time I came in I was in a hurry, getting flowers for my friends wedding. I wanted to ask you out but I didn't have time. So I came back and I had it all planned. I was going to have you pick your favorite flowers and then give them to you and ask you out. But then Rowena threatened to fire you for flirting and I…"

"But she didn't mean that!" You interrupt, your mind reeling to make sense of his story.

"I know that now! But I didn’t then and I was worried. I didn't think you would want to date me if I got you fired. So I let you think I had a girlfriend and kept buying flowers just so I could spend time with you."

"That's…that's ridiculous."

Dean chuckles. "That's what my brother said when I explained everything to him in August. So I bought you the necklace and I was going to tell you everything. But then I saw you with Benny and I, well I thought he was your boyfriend."

"Benny is married!" You protest.

"Again, I know that now! But you two seemed awfully close and maybe I was a bit blinded by jealously." Dean ducks his head and shuffles his feet. "But I didn't want to stop seeing you. So I settled for spending a few minutes with you each week, even though I thought you loved someone else."

"That sounds familiar." You reply. You know exactly what he means because it is the echo of your own heart.

Dean steps closer his hand reaching for your cheek. "Really?"

You nod and lean closer, your heart threatening to leave your body. "Yes. Dean I…" But Dean doesn't let you finish. His cool lips find yours in a gentle caress. He pulls back his breath hot on your cheek.

"Sorry I just, I've wanted to do that for six months." You grin and grab his shirt. Pulling his lips back to yours, eager to taste and claim. You melt into each other, your heavy breathing and occasional moans filling the dark shop. You grip his hair and he caresses your neck. You slide a hand to his chest and he pulls at your hips. When you break, gasping for breath, you both smile.

Dean tucks a stray hair behind your ear. "Can I buy you dinner?" he asks, still a little breathless.

He comes into the shop the next afternoon.

"Are you coming in on Saturday now?" Rowena asks with narrowed eyes.

"Well actually…" Dean begins, scratching behind his ear.

"Dean, what can I help you with?" You appear a broad grin lighting your face. Rowena shrugs and leaves you alone; thinking that if the boy doesn't make a move soon she might have to ban him from the shop.

Dean shoots you a smirk. "I was hoping you might have some mistletoe. With Christmas being right around the corner and all."

"It's your lucky day. I think we have some in the back." You nod your head and Dean follows you to the back room, a bounce in his step.

Rowena doesn't bother to mention that there is no mistletoe in the back room nor does she comment on your disheveled state when you finally emerge empty handed twenty minutes later.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #SPN christmas bingo #flower shop au #au #female reader #mutual pining #spn fanfiction #reader insert #spn #flower shop #dean x you #dean x reader #dean Winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #iprobablyshipit91 writes #magical blooms

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

Text

A brief pause in Eddie to self-promo:

I had a fleeting moment of writing Bucky Barnes x Reader fics, and while they are not top tier by any stretch of the imagination, they don't suck either.

A Toast to Whisky

"You work in an old bar hidden away from the modern world. It's almost charming, but not quite. That's probably why Bucky likes it." Angsty and fluffy.

Blood

"Bloody Mary; a ghost who appears in a mirror when called by name three times." Horror genre. A bit of a ghost story. Angsty/healing Bucky.

It's Been a Long Long Time

"Bucky and Steve went to war. When they came back, you were gone. But, you know, maybe you're a lot like them, and will show up years later all not-dead and on-ice." Sad and fluffy.

Wax and Wane

"Bucky was sure he'd felt all the different types of bad a person could feel. He was wrong. You were pretty sure it was illegal to drive away with an Avenger in the back of your van, but what else could you do? A story about grief that is basically the 'flowers grow in the sidewalk cracks' metaphor fanfictionalised."

Gloxinia

"You’re a witch that helps The Avengers a couple of times. Bucky Barnes finds some sort of happiness and healing in you, and the flowers you surround yourself with. He’s a boy in lalalove." You know me... can't not write a witch!reader fic.

Foxhole

"You’ve been watching over Bucky Barnes for decades. From warzone trenches to modern shopping malls…" A bit spooky. A bit witchy. A bit guardian angel-y.

There are a couple more on my AO3 account, but they're either abandoned series or drabbles.

I hope you find something you like... if you're into traumatised brunettes with sad wet eyes and sassy attitudes... xo Rhi

#Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader

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kaeyankat · 1 year

Text

What I'll write for

Oneshots, headcanons (All x reader, no ocs or canon x canon)

Some au's or themes I'm good with: Yandere, poly, love triangle, celebrity, monster au, etc. Themes I WILL NOT WRITE FOR ANY CHARACTER: Angst (Death of character or reader included), cheating, r^pe, abuse, certain Kinks (Non-con, bathroom kinks, extreme pain, etc)

In mature posts, all underage characters are AGED UP past 18.

Seven Deadly Sins

Meliodas, Ban, King, Gowther, Howser, Gilthunder, Griamore, Slader, Arthur, Helbram, Gloxinia, Zeldris, Estarossa, Monspeet

One Piece

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp, Ace, Akainu, Smoker, Coby, Mihawk, Doflamingo, Shanks, Benn Beckman, Marco, Kid, Killer, Law, Buggy, Crocodile, Cracker, Katakuri, Bartolomeo

Fairy Tail

Natsu, Gray, Gajeel, Loke, Laxus, Bickslow, Freed, Elfman, Lyon, Hibiki, Ren, Eve, Bacchus, Sting, Rogue, Orga, Rufus, Jellal, Midnight/Macbeth, Erik/Cobra, Zancrow, Mard Geer, Jackal, Zeref, Acnologia, Larcade

Vampire Knight

Kaname, Zero, Ichiru, Akatsuki,Hanabusa, Senri, Takuma

My Hero Academia

All Might, Aizawa, Present Mic, Vlad King, Aoyama, Iida, Ojiro, Kaminari, Kirishima, Shoji, Sero, Tokoyami, Bakugo, Monoma, Mirio, Tamaki, Shinso, Enji, Keigo, Fat Gum, Shigaraki, Dabi, Twice, Kurogiri, Mr. Compress, Overhaul

Hunter x Hunter

Gon, Killua, Kurapika, Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, Pokkle, Silva, Chrollo, Nobunaga, Feitan, Phinks, Shalnark, Uvogin, Wing

Potentially Others, Ask. But these are the main characters. I do not do Females.

#anime and manga #writing #fanfiction #my rules

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krnzysh · 1 year

Note

hihihj so uh , I would like to be added to the Venti x reader taglist please!

(gloxinia wishes )

best of wishes:D

haii omg sorry for only replying now T-T!

yes ofc!! adding u asap!<3

#‹ 📮 › love notes ꜝ #‹ 🏷️ › gloxinia wishes : taglist ꜝ

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gwendollin · 2 years

Text

:: 𝑽𝒆𝒙𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 :: featuring 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

♡. w//c. 2.2k

♡. t//w. [ SMUT. ] Femdom. Fem!Reader. AFAB!Reader. Brat!Gloxinia. Brat taming. Mommy kink. Pegging. Begging. Edging. Milking. Dacryphilia. Use of 'baby' and 'puppy.'

♡. sy//ns. "You won't do anything, right? You'll just lemme do whatever and roll over like a lazy cat. Why's that, huh? You just won't?" Amber eyes slid to stare at you, half lidded in bemusement and framed by a curtain of long, pretty black lashes. "I think you can't."

♡. a//n. Today's the daaaay! Self indulgent fic. ♡

As much as you loved the fae, Gloxinia could be a real pain in the ass.

That quick wit he possessed coupled with a silver tipped tongue often led to mirthful provocation. The main goal? To push at your buttons until you'd feel yourself at your wits end. You'd prided yourself on your general patience with him, yet there was something about Gloxinia's devious little smile and batting of long lashes that would occasionally make your temper spark.

Normally, though, you'd always just let it slide.

Gloxinia was often fickle, his moods fluctuating throughout the day at the smallest events of change; but it wasn't in a bad way. He was demanded to be calm and reserved towards others - especially those within his clan and with his former position as king - so you saw the capricious changes as the fae being comfortable enough to show you his true emotions. But damn, did you sometimes at least want to understand why he resorted to childish means.

For the fairy, it was honesty really simple.

He wanted your attention, but asking for it was boring. Jovial and bright eyed, he wanted to play around with your feelings. Never enough to genuinely hurt, but enough to make you want to do something about it! That acknowledgement alone in the form of a light scolding or something would have been enough. It'd make his heart flutter and eyes go wide to hear you snap back at him just once! But you often never did, showing him nothing but kindness in the form of lips pressed to his forehead and arms pulling him into a cradle against your chest. It was too sweet, too nice.

It wasn't until one day, he pushed you a little too far. If there was one thing you disliked, it was your capabilities being undermined. Gloxinia had resorted to his usual chaffing that evening in your shared home within the forest, voice a melodic lilt as it rang in your ears; "You know, I was thinking; some domme you are if you're always getting bullied by me."

Your brows twitched into a near furrow as your eyes slid to stare at him. Here we go again, it seemed. "Care to continue that thought?"

"I mean, isn't it your job to bully me?" he chided back, chin resting in the palm of his hand while fingers curled against his lip. "Doms are the ones in charge, right? Yet you just lemme do whatee~eever I want, whenever I want. Seems a little lame."

Arms folded across your chest after you'd placed the basket of fruit down onto the table. You'd foraged it that morning, seeking the shiniest apples and ripest peaches for the fairy because you loved the way his eyes would light up at the sight of them. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," the redhead continued, fluttering to reach his free hand out for one of the fruits idly. "You won't do anything, right? You'll just lemme do whatever and roll over like a lazy cat. Why's that, huh? You just won't?" Amber eyes slid to stare at you, half lidded in bemusement and framed by a curtain of long, pretty black lashes. "I think you can't."

Your eyes narrowed. One of your own hands reached out suddenly, latching onto his wrist and stopping him in his tracks. Gloxinia blinked, staring at your hand along his skin inquisitively before looking back up at you with a frown. Soothing voice was a soft whine; "Huh? I wanna peach!"

"You think I can't?" you murmured, a brow raising. "And what makes you so sure?"

The fairy released a huff, cheeks puffing out in irritation. "Because I said so."

You wanted to scoff, but you held it in. Your grip along his wrist tightened. "Because you said so? That's not how this works, puppy."

Gloxinia's heart fluttered a little at the pet name, but he hid away the excitement and kept that pout of his strong along his pretty features. "Yes, it is! Now lemme go, I want a peach."

Instead, you tugged him forwards. The fairy floated close, his face mere inches from yours. Amber eyes stared into your own, a dusting of pink appearing over his cheeks at the rough handling. Suddenly it dawned on him and once again that sly smile appeared, eyes relaxing into their sultry hooded stare as he sized you up. "Mmm? Oooh, did I make you mad?"

Your lips compressed and teeth grit behind closed mouth. You kept your words even, but your tone had shifted, the sound a delight to his ears; "Everything I let you do is a privilege from me. If I punished you for every antic of yours, I'd never get anything that needs to get taken care of done."

Gloxinia rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue in distaste at the excuse. "Bo~oring!"

Head lifted and tilted in a way for you to stare down at him, eyes narrowing further. Instead of giving in like he expected you to, you instead grabbed the lightweight man and began to whisk him away. Gloxinia floundered for a second, squirming in your grasp along his waist and attempting to free his hand which you'd kept in an iron-like vice. Whines spilled from him, his free hand grabbing at your shoulder to try and push and pull away; "Hey! Lemme go! I want a peach, damn it! [Y/N]!"

Fairies, much to your convenience, weren't physically the strongest.

You'd carried the fae into your shared bedroom, where you tossed him down onto the bed with a thump. Gloxinia scrambled at the freedom, sitting himself up quickly but you grasped at his neck and firmly pinned him back down. Amber eyes widened and heart hastened.

"What are you doing?" he whined, a frown crossing his lips.

You didn't answer. Instead, free hand toyed with the waistline of his pants before the fabric was peeled away. Much to your amusement, your hand along his neck had an obvious effect on him that his body betrayed to you. Gloxinia's cheeks flushed pink as he peeked down to watch you.

You were skilled in the prep, wasting no time at all. Your blood bubbled beneath your skin, irritation setting in as his words replayed in your mind. You'd make him regret thinking your gracious generosity was an act of weakness.

"Wait," the redhead whined out, squirming a bit at your touches. "I didn't mean it-"

"You're going to lie now, too?" you hissed.

"'M not lying!"

Truthfully, you didn't care whether he was or wasn't. He'd said enough, done enough, pushed enough that now all you wanted was to watch him eat those words.

You started with a single finger before introducing another, the digits slowly moving themselves in and out in rhythmic strokes. Gloxinia uttered a soft hum, legs spreading further for you as you slowly worked him over. All the while blood flowed south, his cock hardening.

Fingers were replaced with the silicone of your strap, head positioned at his entrance and slowly you sunk yourself into his tight hole. Gloxinia whined, your hands all the while pinning the back of his knees up against his chest. As you stretched and filled him his heart hammered against his ribcage, pretty amber eyes peeking down to watch as you sank down until you'd stuffed him in entirety.

Hips rocked back slowly, lube sticky as it oozed around your cock and from his greedy hole. You paced gently at first, stretching him carefully and listening to the sweet little whimpers that dripped from his lips.

"A-ah, hah, fuck," the fae pitifully cooed out, eyes glossing over as you fucked up into him in just the right spot. His cock began to throb and leak, the milky white oozing along his length with every thrust from you.

You'd been with and known the fae long enough to tell just when he was getting close. He would tense, knuckles twisting into the sheets and mouth would part open. Repeatedly you would change your pace, quickening here and there until falling to a near stop as soon as he drew closer and closer. Every time his brow would furrow and he'd whine out your name in protest, those hooded eyes glassy with need and frustration. You didn't care. You watched him suffer, aching cock pulsing painfully with the need to cum but continuously being met with next to nothing the second the heat started to rise too much.

After a pause you'd taken his cock into your hand, lazily fondling him and spreading the cum that leaked until he was slicked entirely in himself. Hips would grind into his sweet spot, cock responding by dribbling down along your fingers and into your palm. Gloxinia's hands clawed at the sheets, hips squirming in an effort to get you to thrust into him but you refused.

It'd taken until the fourth or fifth denial before he seemed to snap, words spilling from him in pitiful frustration; "You're being mean!"

"Am I?" you purred, head tilting.

Gloxinia whimpered, offering a nod as response. You smiled deviously, mirroring his own every time he flaunted an attitude. The fairy shivered, skin erupting into gooseflesh as one of your hands came out to pluck at a pert nipple.

"Don't be such a baby," you cooed. "Don't you like warming my cock?"

There was no response. The redhead's frown deepened, cheeks now a bright pink as the heat and tension from his body continued to rise. Yet still you denied, moving only when he cooled off enough to regain his breath and happily milking his cock until the poor thing had puddles of his own cum dripping onto his stomach.

At some point, it'd started to hurt. His cock continued to ooze, the throbbing growing unbearable and an ache forming in his pelvis. Tears budded at the corners of his eyes before they were blinked away, left to slide down his cheeks as lip quivered.

"M-mommy, please," he'd whimpered out, the name piquing your attention. Your impish smile returned, a sense of triumph blossoming in your chest as you'd realized he'd fully begun to unravel. Like putty he was melted below you.

"Begging now?" you murmured. "That's not gonna save you."

Gloxinia swallowed, feeling small beneath your gaze. Still, with a quivering lip, he pleaded; "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did," you stated bluntly, idly stroking his cock. The fairy tensed, to which you stopped and simply ghosted the pads of your fingers along the tip of his cock. "You meant every word. Someone just doesn't like getting punished for once, huh?"

The tears continued to fall, the sight alone making your pussy throb. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a delicious cocktail that sent the fae's mind reeling. Words were babbled, the fact alone cute in it's own right; "I di'n't, I-I just wanted your attention, I'll be good! Can I cum? P-please? Wanna cum, Mommy, please, please? I-it hurts."

Sticky hand removed itself from his cock and in replacement hips rocked once more. Long deep strokes were given, the entirety of your strap repeatedly filling and leaving him painfully empty. Every single nudge against his sweet spot made him sob, the fucking alone not enough to get him off and you knew of this fact. You could sit here and fuck him for a few more hours if you really wanted, all the while there was nothing he could do. Any attempt to give his cock attention from his own hands was swiftly thwarted with a slap away from you. He'd given up at trying after the third attempt, hands coming to lay up and over his head against the sheets.

Still, he tried to beg, words choked on sobs. "Please, I'll be good, I won' do it again. I'll do anything, please, lemme cum, please lemme cum!"

It'd taken an hour or two, but eventually, you felt merciful. By the end of it he was a mess; body twitching and shaking, tear streaked face a pretty pink as glassy eyes adjured alongside his endless, incoherent drivel. You fucked into him lazily, hand finally placing itself back around his cock. Gloxinia's hips bucked, fucking upwards into your hand desperately. It took mere seconds before thick ropes of cum splattered across his chest and stomach, staining his ivory skin with milky threads.

He'd collapsed into the sheets, little hiccups stuttering his chest and erupting from his lips. Tears still dripped freely, sticking flyaway strands of crimson hair to his sodden face. Gently you'd leaned yourself down, lips pressing to the corners of his eyes to kiss away the salty droplets.

Your words were soft, breath warm against the shell of his ear; "Did my sweet baby learn his lesson?"

Gloxinia sniveled, arms shakily reaching up to wrap around your neck and shoulders. He clung to you, burying his face into your neck pitifully. "'M sorry. 'm really really sorry."

A little chuckle escaped you. "Good."

As much as you hated to admit it, he had been right in a way. You didn't punish his brat ass enough.

That would have to change.

#♡.pastries #♡.gloxinia #♡.sds #gloxinia smut #sds smut #gloxinia x y/n #gloxinia x reader #seven deadly sins x reader #sds x reader #tw dacryphilia #tw mommy kink

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