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kpopnstarwars · 5 months

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A/N: guess who was going mad thinking how safe it must feel to be with coups and how i need soft aftercare cheol

tw: smutty but mostly aftercare because i'm weak for seungcheol, readers is afab and referred to as she/her and girl (not the young type), swearing, mention of choking and generally cheol and reader having a great fucking time fucking,

your thighs are still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. you're overcome with bliss, lying haphazardly across the crumpled bed sheets, your fingers fitting perfectly into the grooves of the muscles of cheol's back. gently, his hands glide up and down your sides, and you sigh happily at the feeling, head full of cotton candy.

'you alright, love?' he asks, propping himself up on his elbows as his lips connect with your forehead.

'you bet,' you yawn, eyelids drooping.

he kisses you on the lips, sweet and tender. 'i'm pulling out now.'

both of you groan as he does so, your ruined pussy almost sucking him back in when you clench at the feel of it. stretching, cheol rolls neatly off the side of the bed and onto his feet, and you enjoy the view as he pads over to the bathroom - you sure as hell love to watch him go.

he glances over his shoulder, catching the sultry look on your face. 'if you wanted a round four, i'd be happy to deliver.'

you roll your eyes. 'you're a menace, cheol. can't a girl enjoy staring at her butt naked boyfriend?'

cheol has disappeared into the bathroom now, although you can still see his side profile in the faint reflection of the shower glass. a smile tugs at his lips as he takes a flannel from the cabinet beneath the sink and dampens it with warm water.

'only if i'm allowed the same privaleges,' he chuckles as he steps back into the bedroom.

gently, he wraps his fingers around your ankles and unceremoniously drags you until you're lying at the edge of the bed. you're about to open your mouth and give him a bit of sass, something along the lines of handling the goods with a bit more care, but by then he's dipped the flannel between your folds to clean you up.

a squeak slips from you at the feel of it. you're sensitive, and a jolt shoots through your body, making the muscles in your thighs jump. he chuckles, one of his wide hands coming up to cup your hip so he can caress your skin with his thumb, and you scowl at him; his eyes are dancing and full of mischief, but beneath that is a sort of tooth rotting adoration. it's the kind of innocent sparkle in his gaze that makes a whole flutter of butterflies come to life in your stomach - as if he hadn't just fucked you into last week with a hand around your throat.

the butterflies become a whole menagerie when he has the audacity to dip his head and press soft kisses to each and every one of the bruises and love bites he left littered on your torso.

you swear, this man will be the death of you.

'cheol,' you mumble. 'c'mere.'

you hold your arms out, signalling your need for cuddles. immediately, his face lights up, eyes sparkling more than they were before, and he gets to his feet and scoops you up before launching himself, and therefore you, into the middle of the bed. a small oof leaves your chest upon landing, and he laughs sweetly and wraps his arms around you so you can't be mad for his sudden burst of energy.

sighing, you wriggle around in the blankets until you're comfortably pressed into the curve of his body. warm and sure, he holds you in his arms, his palm repeatedly smoothing up and down between your shoulder blades, ensuring that you melt into his side.

'need anything?' he asks softly. 'snacks? water?'

'just you,' you mumble into the solidness of his chest, your eyelids drooping. 'i love you.'

'me too,' he grins teasingly.

you frown, the fingers you'd previously had splayed across his stomach coming up to pinch his chest. slapping your hand away, he yelps, almost falling off the side of the bed in effort to get away from your sleepy but savage attack.

'okay, okay,' he surrenders. 'i love you too.'

'you're full of shit,' you mumble, but flop onto him again, enjoying the heat his body radiates as you press a kiss onto his shoulder.

'says the person clinging onto me like her life depends on it,' he chuckles.

you don't reply, instead just making an intelligible noise, eyes closing. he's doing that thing that never fails to send you to sleep, where he runs his fingers through your hair, almost massaging your scalp. cheol is warm and solid beneath you, safe. he cradles you in his strong arms as if you're the most precious thing in the universe.

if you weren't so tired, you'd probably open your eyes so you could see the stars in his.

instead, you settle for mumbling 'i love you' again into his chest. the small chuckle he lets out vibrates beneath your ear, and he drops a kiss on your hair.

'i love you more.'

imagine he also made her go and pee to avoid UTIs, guess who didnt know how to put it in but it's fanfic not irl what can i say

#seungcheol #ficlet #seungcheol aftercare #seungcheol smut #scoups #scoups aftercare #scoups smut #fluff #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seventeen #svt #choi seuncheol #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #aftercare #smut

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astayinwonderland · 6 months

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“So this makes us what?” | fwb lee minho

pairings: lee know x f.reader

genre: smut | fwb trope | +18 minors DNI

requested by @kyungpenguin33 ˜ sorry this took forever to write, darling. i hope you like it <3

summary: you and minho had been friends for a while, but it all changes one rainy afternoon. now someone is jealous and can't really stand just being friends with benefits (college!au)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: biting, marking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (big no-no), minho calls reader bunny, slight argument, jealousy... lmk if I forgot something

Enjoy (;

His number 2 pencil snapped in his hand.

Not that anyone would notice, especially not you. Your attention was somewhere else, better said, on someone else. Minho’s chest feels heavy as he watches how your deskmate puts his arm around you. Does he have a death wish? Minho shakes his head trying to calm down his thoughts. Of course, your deskmate didn’t have a death wish. He, like everyone else, is aloof about what goes on behind closed doors between you and Minho. The way you moan under his touch, how impatient you become when he teases you, oh, and the look on your face when he eats you out.

It’s celestial yet sinful.

Minho scoffs. What is so great about that dude anyway? You are way too much for him, you are the sunshine itself. You bring life into every situation no matter how difficult it is. It is hard for Minho to shake off these feelings, especially when you two are supposed to be just friends who fuck.

It all started one rainy afternoon. Water poured heavily as you tried to focus on the movie Minho insisted you watch. It was ‘the best thing ever’, but although you tried not to hate it, the movie was incredibly boring and you rather be napping. Your eyelids feel heavy, drowsiness overpowers your body, and the next thing you know your eyes open to a very sleepy Minho. He is an angel walking the Earth, tortured, joyful, and beautiful. His head rests on your shoulders, his purple hair slightly covering his eyes as the two of you now lay on the very soft and cozy couch. Little drops of rain hit the window and your index finger lands on his perfect nose, then his perfect lips which are slightly parted.

“What are you doing, bunny?” he asks. His eyes were still closed.

Your heart almost stops as your body jumps, scared.

Minho chuckles and tries to resume his nap, his head now getting cozy on the crook of your neck. You swallow hard, his breath tickles that very sensitive spot on your neck. No. You can’t think of him in that way. This is your friend, your friend. But when Minho plants a little kiss on the soft skin between your shoulder and neck, you are doomed.

A soft moan involuntarily escaped your lips.

Minho smiles, the corners of his lips going up. So he plants another kiss and another and another. His tongue ever-so-slightly tasting your skin, creating in you a euphoric feeling you hope never ends. His eyes land on yours, a silent petition to kiss you. There is no need to verbally answer him, you nod and your lips are on his. His lips gracing yours, feel like cotton candy, soft and sweet. You bring your face down to his and the moment his tongue touches your bottom lip the dynamic changes.

Minho’s hands are quick and skillful to reach your hips and pull you on top of him. You feel his erection pulsating through his sweatpants as you straddle him, still not breaking the kiss. It feels so easy to strip off your clothes in front of him. For Minho is the same, he loves the warmth of your skin and wants to worship every part of you, but your eagerness is palpable and to him, pleasing you is now a must.

Never in his life, Minho would have thought he would be inside you. Did he imagine it? Well, in all honestly he tried to stop himself any time his mind would go there. But fuck, he couldn’t, his will wasn’t that strong. However, now it is a whole different deal, you are here, riding him like a fucking goddess. The way your ass keeps bouncing up and down, your hips rocking back and forth. You drive him into madness, his brain can’t process how all this is happening. If he gets to have you, then let him be damned.

You, on the other hand, feel the heat radiating from Minho’s body, your sweat mixing with his as your tongue clashes with his fighting for dominance. It is not the first time you have had skin-to-skin contact with your friend. You’ve hugged and cuddled a little bit before. But the way his fingers dig deeper into your flesh, encouraging you to keep going makes your pussy wetter and your moans louder.

Skin-slapping sounds in crescendo, Minho positions his feet flat on the couch, changing your angle as he starts to fuck you, faster than the pace you originally set. Your broken moans are getting him hornier and making him groan, whispering your name as it’s the only word in his vocabulary.

“Minho… fuck– faster, please… harder…” you whisper.

And he obeys as he continues fucking you until your vision blurs. Minho feels the exquisite clenching of your entrance and he wants you to milk him whole, but that is not something he’s been allowed to do. So he focuses as hard as he can to make you cum first. Your eyes closed, muscles tensing as your nails claw his chest.

“Fuck yes– ah! “ you say as you reach your high, laughing at the blissful sensation.

Minho lifts you and you want him to cum so immediately your hand wraps around his beautiful, perfect thick cock and after a few pumps, he’s cumming for you.

No words. The only thing that can be heard is both of your heavy breathing trying to go back to normal. Minho smiles.

“I didn’t know you were such a menace in bed, bunny…”

That sentence opened the door for endless sessions of fucking and resuming your everyday activities. No questions asked. To be honest you were too scared to and Minho seemed not to care about talking about it. Minho didn’t want to lose you and would not take that risk by talking about the friends-with-benefits thing and ruining everything.

That was of course until he saw you with him—your deskmate.

The class was not over, but Minho was too upset to keep witnessing another man’s hands on you. So he storms out of the class, curious eyes all over him as he doesn’t bother to excuse himself. This behaviour is not completely uncommon from him, but you just knew something was off.

—-----------------------------------------------------

Snow falls lightly as the day comes to an end. Minho walks determined straight to his car, heart beating so fast he almost didn’t hear your voice from afar.

“Minho! Stop… shit! Minho!” you ran as fast as possible to catch up with him.

“What are you doing here?”

“What’s wrong Min?” you shiver at the cold wind hitting you.

“Nothing… go back to the lecture. Go back to your friend,” he rolls his eyes.

“Friend? Wh-what? Wait… do you mean–”

“Yes, him… whatever! Just go back in there, you’ll freeze your ass out here.”

Minho takes out his car keys and opens his car door but you are set on not moving. Your eyes can’t believe the fact that Lee Minho is jealous of a classmate. You don’t even like him like that, you only like Minho but he doesn’t know that.

Since you are not moving, Minho gets in his car and you do the same shortly after him.

“Shit… just go to class!”

“Are you seriously jealous of him? He is just a friend… I am not fucking him!” you try to look him in the eye but Minho just looks away.

“Yeah, I’m your friend too and we fuck nearly every night. Does he fuck you better than I do?”

Your heart sinks because his words are harsh and hurtful. You try to get out of his car but Minho pulls you back in.

“I’m sorry,” and his face is so close to yours that you finally see the Minho you love. So you delicately brush your fingertips on his cheek.

He doesn’t say a word. His eyes close and now his hand covers yours.

“I know it’s a lot to ask,” he pauses, meditating on what to say next. “But… I don’t want you to sleep with that guy– or anyone else.” Minho now looks at you, eyes anxious awaiting your answer.

“I don’t want to sleep with him or anyone else, Minho.”

“You’re fucking mine,” he cups your face and kisses you passionately.

Suddenly it all feels like that first time you two kissed. It was deep, lustful, yet loving. Your hands entangle in his now-fading purple hair as you savour every bit of that kiss. His tongue diving into your mouth, swallowing your moans, and his hands keeping you in place.

Your body moves and before your brain can process it, Minho has you on his lap. Driver’s seat pushed to the back so you can sit, your back against his chest. It doesn’t take long for him to undo his and your jeans when he is already entering you with his middle fingers tapping on your clit.

His lips on your shoulders and back, kissing and licking your skin making you throw your head back giving him access to your neck. He knows your sensitive spot. Minho’s mouth marks your neck so beautifully, licking, kissing, biting, sucking, as you slowly bounce up and down his cock. Every little touch drives you crazy.

“Mine,” he whispers, as he bites down on your shoulder now and adds more pressure to your clit, drawing circles on it.

“Mine, mine, you’re fucking mine. No one else's,” he speeds up, making you cry in response.

“Yours,” you reply. “Fucking yours.”

“I want you to fucking use me, cum for me, bunny. I’m no one else’s but yours.”

His words alone make you clench around him. Quickening your pace you chase your release as Minho’s free hand helps you up and down.

“Don’t fucking stop, bunny, just like th- that… ugh… you’re the fucking death of me.”

You feel how your climax triggers his, spilling his seed inside you and you collapse, head on the steering wheel. Once again silence, your heartbeat so fast you hear it in your ears. Minho holds you tenderly and kisses you softly. He carefully helps you up and to the passenger’s seat. You are about to open the door, but he stops you.

“So this makes us what?” he finally asks.

“Get out of the car,” you reply.

The snow had stopped now and you go around the car and hold Minho’s hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“This makes you mine and I am yours,” you smile.

“Let’s go back to class, I think I have a new deskmate.”

“Hmmm, I want to meet him already…” Minho smirks, the tips of his ears getting red.

-------------------------------------------

a/n: this is pure ✨fiction✨

I enjoyed so much writing this! This man be fucking with my brain BAD.

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated 💖

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goldsbitch · 1 month

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Our wedding

Y/N and Lando probably went a little too overboard when planning their wedding. She finally looses it when his friend suggests a product placement bucket hat.

A dream wedding.

Distant palazzo, with acres of private lands to roam around at night. Lavish dress, designed to fit perfectly and re-done three times. Coordinators, who made sure everyone who needed to be invited actually was. And also took care about almost anything one can imagine.

A perfect wedding, that's what they both wanted. Go big or go home. Combining romance, with generously giving everyone they loved, or deemed important, the time of their life. To say that this event was supposed to be extra would be an understatement.

Lando said yes to all of Y/N's wished regarding flower arrangements, menu items and rooming lists. She said yes to all of this ideas about the music, sound systems set up in each part of the venue (because heaven would turn upside down if there had been one quiet spot with no music, according to Lando) and drinks choices. They could not agree on the photographer - so Lando just booked his, and hers option as well. Saving money was not on the table. He knew that the amount of good PR and brand deals the Quadrant team managed to get together was going to pay out in the long run. Everyone loves a wedding.

That's where the first issues started - the amount of people invited grew into higher hundreds. She voiced her point few times, but Lando quickly shut those off with a promise to book a private charter for all friends and family who were coming from her homeland. She caved in and agreed to just few more CEO's she'd never met, as long as they did not share their table.

It was the final two months before the wedding and things could not be more hectic. They had to plan the wedding around Lando's race schedule, so summer break between races it was. Y/N had to juggle her job with all of this planning, so she attended less races than she usually would. Most of the calls she shared with Lando were wedding related and it seemed like his best friend Max took it upon himself to speak on behalf of Lando - so sometimes it felt like she was marrying Max rather than her fiancé. After a total break down she had few days ago, which resulted in her crying on the phone to Lando at 4 am his local time, they agreed she absolutely had to come over to the next race so that they could find some down time.

Having to endure a tiring overnight flight, she finally stepped into the hotel where Lando was staying at. Exhausted, jet-lagged and generally in a bad mood were the main ingredients in the perfect cocktail of "you should just avoid me" Y/N. She finally opened the door to his room and let out a groan. Traveling to see him used to be her favorite thing. A bombastic cherry on top was that she immediately recognized Max's voice coming from the living room. Was this guy staying in the same room as them now?

"Y/N, is that you?" she heard, desperately hoping he hadn't heard her enter in. She felt like a bitch for wishing that, but he was the last person she wanted to see at that point. Her hopes of jumping in the bed and cuddling Lando the first thing coming here dissolved like cotton candy, leaving tooth aches behind.

"Yes, Max, it's me," she said, not even bothering adjusting her tone to something more socially appropriate.

"Great, just on time. Can you come in here? We have some decisions that are becoming pressing matters," he said dryly and added his own frustrated comment quietly "...since someone does not feel like answering emails." She heard that, bit her lip and swallowed all her comments, otherwise she would explode.

"What's up?" she asked, entering the living space. There were dozens of baseball caps and buckets hats laid down on the coffee table with Max and some random young guy towering over them.

"We need you to pick out one of these which you'll be wearing after the reception. I have a great brand deal on the table which I need to close today. So, go ahead - pick one." She could not believe the words coming out of Max's mouth. Was he for real?

"May I ask when did I agree to wearing a baseball cap with my dress right after my wedding?"

Max glanced at her and then rolled his eyes. "Can you just pick one? Lando is on board with this, he'll be wearing this green one," he pointed to objectively very nice stylish item of clothing - but still, it was a bucket hat. Rage levels shot up in Y/N blood steam.

"Max, I'm suppose to be wearing my wedding dress until the evening, that's also in some deal you guys made," she proclaimed, hoping this would finally make him get some sense. "The dress is very classical, I don't think this would fit the vibe."

"Oh, come, we agreed to sticking to the Quadrant Athletes color palette and all of these check that. We want to break the classical vibe up with this."

"I'm sorry, who exactly is we in this scenario? And who the fuck are you?!" she pointed at the guy standing next to Max.

"I'm...I'm the product placement controller," he said in a shy voice.

Her eyes just went wide at that point.

"Y/N, no need to freak out again, you need to create a viral moment to make the brand grow," Max said, as if he was talking about a new merch launch.

And that was the final straw. "I'm getting sick of you guys making my wedding into a Quadrant PR stunt. You need to realize this is my wedding, not yours! The whole event is already dripping with brand deals and promotions, is there nothing out of line to you? Will my mom also have to wear one of these hats? Will force the officiant to wear sneakers? Where will you stop?"

Max stared at her, his own cup finally also full. But unlike her, he spoke calmly - again, giving strong business vibes. "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm sorry I am pulling heaven and Earth to make sure your wedding does not ruin your future husband! I apologize that I seem to be more stressed about this wedding than you are. Sorry for caring and trying to uphold some standard."

"Max, this is all too much! I feel like I'm suffocating," she tried to reason with him once more.

He just had enough at that point. So many little moments of mutual disagreement finally grew on him.

"Yeah, well maybe you're just not suited for this world."

Before she could even take a breath to respond, a familiar voice cut them both off.

"Guys, that's enough I'd say," Lando said as he slowly stepped out the same corridor Y/N had entered moments ago. Both Max and Y/N turned around, knowing they'd have spoken way differently had they known he was there as well.

Max gulped, knowing he stepped over a line and immediately started to apologize. "Mate, I'm sorry, we just sort of lost it. I'm sorry."

Lando glanced at him, his face suddenly hard to read for both his friend and his fiancée. He quickly flashed Y/N a look, seeing the obvious distress finally on his own, in a way the camera on a phone just does not capture. It pained him to see them two fighting, but it pained him more to see her on the verge of crying.

She couldn't find words to apologize to Max. In fact she could barely even see him, as Lando took all of her attention.

"Can you guys leave us for now? I think we need to talk alone," Lando said in a tone so serious that Max hardly remembered last time he'd heard it.

"Yeah, mate. Of course," he said shyly, gesturing to his companion to quickly exit with him.

Once the door finally clicked, Y/N felt like she could get out of her frozen state.

"My god. Lando, I knew it would be a challenge these few months, but I did not expect to grow so far away from you," she said, as the words flew out of her mouth without her being able to control it.

He was more careful with his words, but brave nevertheless. "It's true. I don't think we've even been so distant."

Him acknowledging it just made it real and hurt more.

"Right. At least we have that in common."

There was an awkward silence, something these two hadn't experienced in months.

"Why is Max involved so much?" she asked, hoping that she would not hear anything that would make her biggest fear come true - Lando's lack of desire to marry her.

He took a moment to get his point in the right order. "He's my best friend. This is our wedding. I can't stop focusing on racing, but I want it to be perfect. I'd say not giving him any credit sometimes."

Of course, he was defending him. She wondered if he defended her in front of Max sometimes.

All card on the table. She gulped before uttering the next sentence. "I'm scared that I don't want to go to my own wedding anymore. I feel like an unwanted guest."

They shared a look full of hidden pain. It was impossible to tell, but Lando was scared as never before. "What are you saying...Do you want to call it of??"

She looked back at him, praying that he would understand. "God no, that's the last thing I want to do," she sighed and put her head in her hands. How did it got to a place where he could even assume that? "Marrying you, the love of my life, is my dream. In fact, I'd just like to jump to the moment where I can finally say yes to you."

The air still felt really heavy. "Then let's do just that."

"What do you mean?"

Lando took few steps closer to her, missing her close proximity for the past few weeks. He desperately needed to fix them. "Let's book a wedding for next week in Monaco, just you me and any other people required by the law."

The idea of that seemed silly at first. But the more she thought about it, the more she craved that idea. "So, you want to call the actual wedding off?"

Lando chuckled at the image of them cancelling that at last minute and all the hustle that would bring. "No, silly, not unless you really want to. But who says we can't have a fake ceremony there, celebrate with everyone, while already being married at that point? We don't need to tell anyone, keep the magic for them. We can have two weddings."

It was her time to laugh now. "So because we find organizing one wedding hard, we're going to be doing two now?"

"We are anything but conventional. And if this is news for you then, well...That would mean I'm marrying the queen of delulu. Twice."

The weight of the past weeks was lifted.

"Does this mean I can say "No." at the big wedding?" she teased him, closing the distance between them and holding his hand.

"Not if I'll say "No." first," he winked and quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not wearing a bucket hat. Just stating that now."

"Oh come, at least one of our weddings," he said as he ruffled her hair. "Wow, I think you need a post airport shower, my love."

"Do not try and change the topic - no bucket hats!" she mumbles as she tried to fix her hair.

"Fine, I'll just get you drunk. You'll wear a bucket hat at one of our weddings one way or another."

It felt so good to just banter with him, like they always did before they got caught up in all the stress. A shot of guilt went through her system, as she flashed back at the whole process so far.

"I should probably apologize to Max," she uttered, avoiding his eye contact once again.

He finally hugged her. "Yeah probably. But...let him rot in his feelings for a moment. I hate when someone makes you upset. Apart from me, of course."

"What makes me upset right now is the alarming amount clothes you're wearing."

"That's my girl!"

They got legally married the following weekend, Lando bribing anyone he could in order for them to skip few spots that were unavailable. The first wedding was secret and full of inappropriate, but honest kisses. The second one was fake, but they slayed it together, as newly married couple. Without the stress of actually getting married, they really enjoyed their wedding. The little secret stayed with them - and Max of course, because he just had to get involved with everything.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #ln4 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #fluff #lando norris fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 one shot #f1 one shot

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lou-struck · 4 months

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Made with Love Part 1

Obey Me Brothers and Datables x reader

Part 2 HERE

MASTERLIST !

~After Luke uses a bowl from Solomon's Lab to make some Cookies for the Valentines Day party. Everyone starts acting a bit... Love Drunk.

a/n: I hope you guys like this little Valentine's Day series! If you want to be tagged in part 2 Comment Below!

Introduction:

As the Angel reaches up on his tiptoes to reach an upper kitchen cabinet, Luke's little white beret slips from his white blonde head. The sweet smell of angelic sugar cookies wafts through the air around him from the dozens of batches he has made today. From what he has 'sampled' earlier, he can tell that if he were to wrap them up right now, even Barbatos would have seconds. But he wants to frost and decorate the little heart-shaped cookies with a whipped-cloud icing you like before bringing them to Diavolo's castle for his Valentine's Day celebration.

The party may be small, but it was planned especially with you in mind.

Although he was up in the Celestial Realm running an errand for Michael, Luke heard all about the little prank that Solomon played on Simeon and the others about some evil, human-world monster called Cupid that was trying to steal you away.

You were never in any real danger, but he and everyone else agreed that the prank made the day less enjoyable for you. Which is the last thing anyone wanted.

Meetings were held, contracts were signed, and it was agreed that for this Valentine's Day, there would be no funny business.

Today has to be perfect for you, so his cookies need to be frosted.

Fueled by his good-natured desire to make you something sweet, Luke is able to reach just a bit higher, his fingertips grabbing the ceramic mixing bowl by its patterned edge.

This victory is short-lived, however, as it slips past his butter-coated fingers and thuds to the ground, the heavy bowl splitting in two.

The broken bowl in front of him causes the Angel to feel a bit distressed. Why couldn't he be bigger?

To clean up the fallen pieces.

But as his kitchen timer takes down slowly he realizes that he's running out of time. He has to get the frosting made soon.

"Where are all the other mixing bowls?" he wonders aloud as he looks through the other cabinets and dishwasher, finding none.

He knows that there are more than just the ones he has been using for the batter. But where are they?

He puffs out his little cherub cheeks with a pout as he tries to think where they could've gone.

And then, it hits him.

Solomon…

The Sorcerer has a habit of 'borrowing' things from the kitchen, bringing them into his Lab, hoarding them, and not bringing them back for weeks. The batch of cookies in the oven only has a few minutes left, so he wastes no time scampering up to the Lab to retrieve the stolen mixing bowls.

Thankfully, the dark wooden door to the Lab is unlocked, and he slips inside. Every step is anxious for the little Angel. You never know what is crawling about Solomon's Lab.

This time, the air is unusually sweet, like cotton candy and pomegranate seeds.

The mouthwatering smell has the angeling giggling to himself, although Solomon can't cook an edible meal to save his life, some of the spells and potions he cooks up can be classified as tasty.

From the corner of his eye, Luke sees a small stack of his mixing bowls on the countertop. But as he gets close, he sees that they are completely filthy, covered in remnants of some experiment.

Luke knows not to try to touch those ones; after all, the last time he tried to clean some of Solomon's dishes, he ended up cursed with webbed feet for a whole day.

As he shudders from the memory, he spots a light blue bowl on the edge of another table.

It's his favorite bowl; this one would be perfect for him to use to make the frosting.

The best part is it looks clean.

BUZZ...

The sharp ringing of the kitchen timer causes the little Angel to jump as he hastily grabs the bowl and runs downstairs so his cookies won't burn.

But in his rush to prevent what he thinks would be the day's biggest disaster, he fails to notice the small layer of shimmery glaze that has gathered at the bottom of the bowl.

There is Love in the dark, chilly air of the devildom as you make your way to the Demon Lord's castle. Your feet are not quite running, but they step with an embarrassed quickness,

The Valentine's Day outfit that Asmodeus picked out for you earlier had caused a few delays, so now you worry you are running late to the party.

How can one shirt have so many different types of buttons and zippers?

A part of you wonders if the Avatar of Lust had given you this particular outfit to distract you and prevent you from leaving for the party with the other brothers.

Your hands pat the back pockets of your jeans again as you feel the solid outline of your DDD through the fabric and sigh in relief. Barbatos wrote on the invitations that bringing the device was necessary for today's events since he had planned a few party games that required them.

It's then you notice a little figure dressed in white slowly making his way up the path just ahead of you.

Luke's steps are as small as he awkwardly carries a large container. You are about to ask him if he needs any help, but the look of determination on his face tells you not to try and take it from him, so instead, you raise a friendly hand and call after him.

When he sees you, he stands up a bit straighter.

"Mc, Happy Valentine's Day." he beams.

"Thank you, Luke." you look down at the box curiously. "Whatcha got there?"

The little Angel's cheeks turn a bit pink as he looks shyly away from you. "I made angelic sugar cookies for the party.

Your grin is elated at his words. "Those are so good. That was very thoughtful of you, Luke."

He perks up like a little dog at your compliment. "It was nothing, I made that frosting you like too, but I didn't have all the ingredients I needed, so only a few were frosted."

"I'm sure everyone will love them." you smile purposely, making your strides small so the little guy can keep up with you. "Did you remember to bring your DDD for the party games?"

His blue eyes widen in shock, and he looks at you with an expression of pure distress. "Oh no, I knew I was forgetting something."

"Since you have that big box of cookies, I can just run back to Purgatory Hall and grab it for you." you offer with a kind smile. "Where did you leave it."

He looks at you gratefully, and his shoulders relax as much as he can with that huge box of cookies in his hands. "You would really do that for me? Thank you, you're the best Mc; I think I left it on the kitchen counter."

Sounds good, I'll see you in a little bit." you smile. As you turn around, you remember one more thing. "Make sure to save a cookie for me."

"Don't worry," he calls back happily. "I will."

The enormous doors part for Luke in an almost haunting manner as he approaches the castle door. He fights the shudder as he steps inside, clutching his box of cookies with a death grip as his ears pick up the faint sound of conversation.

He follows it closer and closer to the banquet hall, where he was told the party would be held.

As the sounds grow louder, he can make out the excited rambling of Leviathan, the loud and merry laughter of Diavolo, and the animated squealing of Asmodeus.

Although they are demons, their happy chatter soothes his nerves as he pushes open the door with his shoulder.

The conversation in the room dies as the door creaks open. And when he steps out from behind the wood, he notes that everyone has been staring at him. When everyone sees it's just him, they quickly return to their usual conversations.

"I'm glad you could make it, Luke," Barbatos says with a polite smile, being the first one to recover from the momentary disappointment.

Simeon approaches the smaller Angel friendlily, placing a hand on top of Luke's head and ruffling his hair. "It seems everyone heard you approaching and assumed you were Mc."

"It could've been." he mumbles embarrassedly, "I had forgotten something back at home, and they offered to get it for me so I could bring over the cookies."

"Cookies?" Beel says, his head snapping towards Luke with gluttonous intent.

Luke's fondness for the Avatar of Gluttony's interest in his sweets causes him to smile and place the box on the table.

He removes the first layer of beautifully frosted cookies for all to see. "Yeah, I made these for the party. That's why I was running late today.

"Smells good," Beel mutters, taking a slow step toward the tray of cookies. Luke is so proud of the attention he garnered that he doesn't realize that everyone else is staring at the plate as well, enthralled by the sweet smell.

"Ohhh, they're soooo cute." Asmodeus gushes, holding up the heart-shaped cookie with his freshly manicured nails. The little red heart decals stand out on the glossy pink background.

Lucifer clears his throat. "May I try one?" he asks, "I do not have the biggest sweet tooth, but since it is a Holiday, I may as well."

"S-sure." the Angel replies, as everyone reaches for a cookie. There are only a few left on the plate, so he decides to wait to have one himself until you get here.

"Thank you, Luke, these look delicious," Barbatos says, removing his white glove before touching the gooey sweet.

Luke watches as everyone takes a bite of the cookies, his heart feeling full when he hears the sounds of approval as they chew.

"Wow," these are really good," Levi says, being the first to try to take another cookie.

"Wait," he says quickly, snatching the plate off the table. "These are Mc's favorite; let's wait until they get back to eat another one.

Lucifer giggles and stumbles back clumsily. "Yay, Mc's coming…" The dreamy lift in his tone makes Luke's eyes go wide in alarm.

Something is wrong.

Are they drunk???

"Mc…Cutie Pie." Satan hums; the usual sharp intelligence in his expression is gone and replaced with giddy lovesickness.

There is a haze to the Prince's eyes and a ruddiness to his cheeks as he nods thoughtfully. "I'll bring this plate up to my chambers. I want to feed them every bite myself.

"No way," Levi says way too confidently. "If anyone will be alone in a room with Mc. It will be me.

Barbaots stretches his arms out lethargically. "I'm… going to lay down in my room." he yawns. "Tell Mc to come to my room when they get here."

"You're tired, Barbatos?" Belphegor asks, the Avatar of Sloth looking wide awake."

"Yer not?" Mammon slurs, his pupils dilated. Luke turns and looks into the Avatar of Greed's eyes and sees that his pupils are now heart-shaped.

"How could I be?" the youngest of the seven answers. "Mc is coming soon, and I don't want to waste my time sleeping when I can be looking at them.

"Do you think Mc would give me a piggyback ride?" Beel hums absentmindedly.

"Course they would." Mammon gushes. "Mc is super strong and pretty and smart. And….~" his love-sick rambling is cut off by a dark chuckle from Simeon.

"No way," he coos. "You would crush them if you jumped on their back. You clearly don't know how to treat someone as special as Mc.

"And you do?" Levi laughs.

Simeon's smile is sinful. "Let's just say once I had my turn with them, Mc won't be thinking about any of you."

"That's so inappropriate." Asmodeus gasps with wide eyes. "I-i can't have you speaking about Mc like that." he covers his ears with his hands to block out the sound.

"Some Avatar of Lust you are," Simeon smirks, leaning in and using his writer's brain to get a bit descriptive with what he would like to do to you when you get to the party.

"What is wrong with you guys?" Luke stammers as he tries to block out Simeon's sinful words.

With everyone else thinking about nothing but you, Solomon shyly taps a rather distressed Luke on the shoulder. His cheeks are a soft shade of pink as he stares down at the floor, "I-i think I know what is happening…"

~Why was in those cookies??? Find out what happens next in part 2

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #Diavolo x reader #Barbatos x reader #Simeon x reader #Solomon x reader #Lucifer x reader #x reader

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its-rach-writes · 2 months

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Cotton Candy Kisses - Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After a revelation at dinner, you realise that Spencer isn't as innocent as he seems.

Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff!

A/N: This is part two to my artist!reader mini series, you can read part one here but its not neccessary to understand this one. Thank you for your love on the first part, I love you all! xxx

You were saying goodbye to everyone who had stopped by your art class as you cleared away the paint and wiped off the splatters. As they filed out of the café, a couple of people stopped to ask you if you needed a hand in clearing things away but you waved away all their sweet offers. As you wiped the counter, the door opened and you spoke without looking up.

“I’m sorry, we’re closing up.”

“I know; thought you might need some help.”

You could hear the smile in his voice without looking up, when you did look up, your heart jumped in your chest as you saw the handsome Doctor grin at you, “Spence! Hey!” you gave him a hug, giggling as he lifted you from the floor.

It was hard to believe that this was the same man from a couple of months ago who hated physical contact. He still had his limits of course, “when did you get back?”

“Last night,” he smiled as he set you on your feet.

“How was the case?” you asked and his smile dropped just a fraction but it was enough for you to notice, “it doesn’t matter,” you said quickly.

“Need a hand?”

“I’m nearly done but I’d like the company,” you smiled.

Spencer helped you clean the paint and scrape the paper-mache from the tables. He laughed as he looked at some of the paintings that were left behind. He carefully picked up a landscape painting, “these are way better than my stickmen.”

You laughed as you glanced up at him, “I don’t know, the one you did of Hotch funnily enough, was a striking resemblance.”

It didn’t take long for you to close up shop and Spencer offered to walk you home. It was a beautiful day and Spencer’s shoulder brushed up against yours every so often which did nothing to quell your developing crush on him.

“Oh,” he said as if he’d suddenly remembered something, “the team are going to Rossi’s tonight for dinner, he wanted to know if you would like to come.”

“That’s really nice of him.”

As soon as you started hanging out with both Spence and Emily, the team found ways to include you every time they got together outside of a case.

“I’d love to come.”

“Great,” he grinned.

You smiled, your cheeks flushing as you pulled your new lip balm out of your pocket, and applied it. The sickly sweet smell must have washed over Spencer because he glanced down at you.

“Is that cotton candy?”

“Uh huh, it’s new.”

“Can I get some?”

His request shocked you, you knew he had a thing with germs, he hardly shook hands with people and now he wanted to share a lip balm with you?

“You have a thing against germs and this has glitter in it. Are you sure that you want some?”

“No, that’s not what,” he sighed, “never mind.”

You narrowed your eyes at him but you didn’t say anything in reply, and he didn’t bring it up again.

“I’ll see you tonight then?”

Spencer nodded as he smiled down at you but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his eyes looked almost sad, “yeah, see you.”

You had gone shopping a few weeks ago and you’d bought a new dress that you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. The excitement of having dinner at Rossi’s pushed whatever was up with Spencer to the back of your mind. The hot day turned into a warm night so Rossi set dinner up outside. The wine was flowing and chilled – only the white wine, Rossi would execute you himself if you tried to chill red wine, when Derek spoke up.

“So, what’s up with Reid?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder and into the kitchen where Spencer was talking to Hotch.

When no one answered, you looked around the table to find everyone staring at you, “why are you asking me? How should I know?”

Garcia made an impatient noise, “every minute he’s not working or with his mom, he’s with you. And, even when we’re on a case he finds a way to tie you into the conversation.”

“He does?” you flushed as you turned to look at him, when Derek cleared his throat, you turned back to the group, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

After dinner, Spencer was forgotten, that was until Savannah, Derek’s girlfriend pulled out her lip gloss and started applying it.

“Can I get some of that mama?” he smirked, she rolled her eyes but leaned over to kiss him.

JJ groaned, “god, we get enough of that at the office, we don’t need it here too.”

Your mouth fell open as you put two and two together, your heart dropped like a rock and you suddenly got up and walked into the kitchen were Spencer was getting a drink. He glanced over his shoulder as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. He didn’t kiss you back and you second guessed yourself, maybe he’d meant what he said. You pulled away, his thumb brushed against your jaw, your red lipstick smudged against his lips.

“I still want to try the cotton candy flavour,” he grinned as he pulled you into another kiss.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #reid #spencer #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #reader insert #artist!reader #david rossi #derek morgan #jennifer jareau

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suashii · 10 months

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୨♡୧ SINFULLY SWEET — you might not be the best influence on him.

pairing. dan heng x reader.

warnings. f!reader. established relationship. college au. public sex. unprotected sex. finger sucking. creampies. all characters written 18+.

a hazy fog fills dan heng’s head as he breathes in your moans and the familiar taste of mint lingering on your tongue. your kiss is hypnotizing, so much so that the little focus he is able to muster up is on the way your finger twirls around the dark tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck rather than the precarious situation the two of you are in. because while dan heng can admit that the feel of your clothed pussy grinding into his thigh is heavenly, he knows that this isn’t an activity you should be getting up to in the library.

the spell you seem to have cast on him is strong though, his cock already half-hard, twitching and leaking precum thanks to your ministrations. regardless of his effort to keep quiet, a broken moan drifts through the otherwise silent air with a particularly strong tug of his hair. a string of spit connects the two of you even after your lips have parted and only breaks when you lustfully lick your lips.

“i have to get back to work,” dan heng pants, a hand coming up to push the hair back from his forehead. he hadn’t meant to get so sidetracked, especially on the clock, but he didn’t think you’d be so bold as to drag him away under the rouse of needing help finding a book for class. the logical part of his brain was urging him to turn you down when your pillowy soft lips pressed against his, although the taste of your tongue was too sweet, tempting, for him to even consider pulling away. he thinks this short moment of clearheadedness might be his best bet for regaining his resolve.

you poke your puffy lip out in a petulant pout, fingers dancing over the fabric covering his abdomen. despite the barrier, you can feel the muscles of his abdomen nervously jump at your contact. “aww, but i’m already so worked up.”

“we can’t—not now,” he chokes out, taking your wandering hands in his. they’re soft and even though the touch is meant to restrain, it’s more enticing than anything. still, dan heng knows that if he lets you go, you’ll be all over him again in a second. “baby, i really have to go.”

the words he utters send you one message, though his body relays another. his hold intended to deter is much more comforting than he realizes; thumbs brushing over the hills and valleys of your knuckles. a pink hue resembling cotton candy colors the tips of his ears and paints the apples of his cheeks. and, as much as he’s trying to overlook it, you just can’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants that’s practically begging for your attention. seeing him, feeling him, in such a state only fuels your arousal. “we’ll be quick… pretty please?”

your plea is sickeningly sweet, the desperate words dripping with honey that makes it impossible for dan heng to do anything but give in. he bends at your will, like putty in your hands, spinning so that your positions are switched. your back meets the bookshelf with a soft thud before dan heng sandwiches you between him and the surface. a surprised gasp escapes your lips as his arm hooks the back of your knees over his elbow, his other hand making work of bunching up your skirt and pulling your dampened panties to the side.

the cool rush of air over your cunt is enough to make you suck in a breath as dan heng swiftly pulls out his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. he can’t hide the shaky, satisfied sigh that stumbles past his lips while he spreads the beads of pre up and down his member. you let out another noise upon feeling the tip tapping against your clit.

“you’re insatiable, aren’t you?” dan heng asks, though desire is thick in his own voice.

“look who’s—” your retort is cut short when the length of his cock slips between your soaking folds, the head teasing your entrance. any imaginable words die in your throat as he inches into you. slowly, excruciatingly so, his hips rock back and forth, each rut sending him a little deeper into the warmth of your walls until his hips kiss yours.

every inch of dan heng’s skin burns with the lewd squelches that waft through the quiet air of the library. your position, him caging you against the bookcase and shielding you from the view of any lingering patrons, is nothing shy of indecent and the little noises bubbling up from your throat, pitchy whines and shattered breaths, are only making the man feel all the more wicked for indulging in such an obscene fantasy.

heat pools in your tummy as you stretch to accommodate the girth of him, and it spreads beneath your skin, setting your nerves on fire, with each of dan heng’s tender thrusts. he never fails to draw a reaction out of you, this one presenting itself in the form of a choked-out curse that rings through the air.

“shh,” dan heng hushes you, the demand unstable as though he’s having trouble holding back his own moans. “y-you have to be quiet.”

the vibrations of his voice only excite you more, make you arch your back and let out another noise of content, one that, although not entirely intentional, is even louder than the last. it’s rare for students to stay so late on this floor, much less the anthropology section, but the last thing dan heng wants is for either of you to be caught in such an inappropriate situation. there’s only one thing he can do to ensure that the two of you stay unnoticed.

the hand that’s been resting on your waist swiftly lifts from its position in favor of making its way to your mouth. lithe fingers slip between your lips, pressing down on the wet muscle in a hurried attempt to keep you quiet.

it works for the most part, your moans and whimpers muffled. though, for both you and dan heng, the new sensation acts as fuel for the fire that is your lust. because when you suck at his fingers, drool around the digits, dan heng’s waning patience fades into nothing and his easy pace is traded in for something more frenzied, desperate.

you’re a bad influence.

you’re the one thing in this world that dan heng can’t deny, the one person in the universe who’s capable of turning him into someone he barely recognizes. but the truth is, all it takes is a whisper from you, the temptress, to convert dan heng into a man who wants nothing more than to please. right now, all he wants is to bring you to that sweet release that you so fiercely desire.

skin meets skin when dan heng’s forehead bumps against yours, when his hips grind against yours in his effort to bring you pleasure. the change of pace comes without warning and you babble around his fingers as he continues with his merciless rhythm, the seeping head of his cock abusing the spongy spot that always makes you come undone.

cock throbbing and your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, dan heng snatches his fingers from your mouth to replace them with his lips, hungrily swallowing your wanton moans as he rolls his crotch into your clit that he’s been overlooking. your eyes gloss over at the contact and just one look into them is all it takes for dan heng to tell that your head is clouded with pleasure and that the only thing on your mind is how drunk you are on his cock.

it’s a delicious sight that draws a heavy groan from dan heng’s chest while he continues to rut up into you. the noisy slaps of skin on skin filling your ears has you tightening your hold on your lover, chasing his swollen lips to silence the cries threatening to spill from yours.

and he can feel your walls clench around him, feel your thighs uncontrollably tremble as pleasure overcomes you. the warmth of your breath tickles his mouth, dances over his tongue and lips as his thrusts lose their rhythm and turn sloppy. following your lead, he plunges into you entirely, ropes of his creamy white essence filling your messy cunt.

his seed oozes from you, drips down your plush thighs and the length of his cock. dan heng cringes at the scene before him but you don’t reflect his apprehension. with a carefree smile, you tuck your finger beneath his chin, tipping his head up so that glacier eyes meet yours. almost immediately, his expression softens.

“see? that wasn’t so bad.”

no, it wasn’t, dan heng wants to agree, but he keeps it to himself as he shakes his head and carefully returns you to a standing position. like the gentleman he is, he adjusts your underwear and skirt in a way that makes it seem like you never stopped for this naughty escapade. as he rights himself and ties the string of his sweatpants into a neat bow, dan heng comments, “we could have waited until the end of my shift.”

you breathe out a laugh, placing a surprisingly chaste kiss on his jaw. “where’s the fun in that?”

thanks for reading! consider commenting or reblogging if you enjoyed ❤︎

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: honkai star rail #dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #dan heng x you #hsr x you #hsr imagines #hsr drabbles #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail drabble

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milkteabinniechan · 2 months

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bath water | hwang hyunjin

part two

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY ☕| m.list

pairing: virgin! hyunjin x afab reader

warnings: oral (f. receiving), some angst, lots of smut, hyunjin is just learning hehe

a/n: this is a continuation of this story. This was a labor of love and I feel personally connected to this so please go easy on me, thank you for reading!

Your phone hadn't buzzed yet. Hadn't rung once. You cleaned your apartment. Twice. You reorganized your closet. You washed your hair. You played loud music. He still hadn't called.

Brrt Brrrrt. Your phone jumped on your desk. Not so gracefully, you leaped to grab it. "Buy one, get one on all hand soap! Now through Sunday." You squeezed your phone in your hand. A goddamn promotion. How evil.

You lay your head on your pillow, slaying arms out wide. Your eyes blur and unfocused, making shapes in the ceiling. You let your eyelids close. Suddenly you were back in that bathtub. Hyunjin's fingers appearing in and out of focus. You could hear the water, you could smell his cologne.

Brrt. Brrrrt. Now you were imagining things. Pretending your phone was ringing. You really were losing it. You glance down at your closed fist, phone inside. The light shone through your fingers. A cute picture of a ferret peeking through, Hyunjin’s contact photo. You shot up from your bed. This was real.

“Hey…” his voice was low.

“Hey, you…” Your voice was shaking, “what’s up?” attempting to sound casual, you hoped it was convincing enough.

“Not much, just bought some new watercolors, some brushes. They’ve got this great sale going on at…”

Hyunjin continued talking about his day. His voice was chipper, like nothing had happened. He sounded warm, so warm. You clutched your shirt.

“...what about you?” his voice back in your head.

“Oh! Not a lot. Just some spring cleaning, ya know.”

Hyunjin paused. “You hate cleaning.” He huffed. You could hear the smirk in his voice.

The conversation continued like that for a while. A few pleasantries, a few inside jokes. He made you giggle, so hard you would snort, making him laugh too. After a long fit of laughing and funny voices, there was a silence between you. You both sat in it for a moment.

“So…” Hyunjin cleared his throat, “I wanted to ask you something.”

You clutched your shirt again.

“Do you think I could… paint you again?”

Days later you found yourself at Hyunjin’s apartment again. New plastic sheets on the floor. Neither of you had discussed what happened last time. He just asked to paint. That is all he wanted. You stared down at the plastic. Then up at Hyunjin, taking a deep breath.

“Where do you want me?” you spoke in a clear, confident voice, hands on your hips. A power pose. However, you felt like feathers and cotton candy on the inside, so fragile.

Hyunjin pulled up some photos on his phone of women with painted stomachs. Beautiful works of art sprawled across skin. Your stomach flipped. Your mouth dried up.

“Is this okay?” Hyunjin lowered his phone and met his eyes with yours. He had an intensity that shot through you like a bullet. All your feathers and cotton candy would melt away if he stared at you like that for even one more second.

“Of course.” You clasped the hem of your shirt and began to pull up. You expected Hyunjin to turn away, like last time. But he didn’t. He stood right there in front of you and watched. He watched your shirt graze past your stomach, past your breasts, up over your head. Your eyes met his as your shirt fell to the floor. One of your bra straps slipped off your shoulder. Hyunjin reached out and grabbed it, pulling the strap back up.

“Let’s get started.” He turned toward his supplies, unwrapping fresh, unused brushes and paints. You nodded your head and lay flat on your back, plastic crinkling underneath you as you adjusted and moved.

The first brush stroke across your lower abdomen felt exactly as you remembered. The cool paint countered your hot skin. You try your best to steady your breathing, letting out small I’m sorry’s every so often. It was different then the first time, however. Now you could see his face. His eyebrows pressing together in concentration, slightly biting his bottom lip, tilting his head to get the best perspective. You felt heat building in your core as his paintbrush traced lower and lower down your stomach. Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. You willed your body to stop. To not give away the awful, dirty thoughts that were going on inside your mind. You heard Hyunjin clear his throat and set his brush down, maybe to grab a different one. You closed your eyes and tightened your mouth into a thin line. You braced yourself for the soft bristles again, only this time there were no soft bristles. There was skin, fingers dipped softly into watercolor. You would know those fingers anywhere. A thumb ran down your outer thigh, a long streak of paint followed along with it. Then an index finger drew another long, thick line down your thigh. You bit your lip hard, so hard you feared it may bleed. You squeezed your eyes together tightly.

Hold it together. He’s just using a different medium. Don’t get off to this.

Unfortunately, your body was not listening to your brain. Your body wasn’t listening to anything except the feeling of Hyunjin’s fingers against your skin. He ran another paint soaked finger from your knee up to your inner thigh, causing your legs to open in response. You bucked your hips slightly at the sensation of Hyunjin being so close to your core.

“Hyunjinnie…” you moaned softly. A wet spot already forming on your panties.

Hyunjin hooked his paint covered fingers around the hem of your panties, coloring them in purples and blues. He lowered them delicately, exposing just the top of your cunt. He lowered his head and kissed gently, but hungerly. Like that first kiss was going to save him, he bowed his head like praying for a holy light and he had finally found it.

“I want to taste it.” He spoke deep into your clothed cunt. He wanted to enter the gates of heaven, not just paint the Sistine Chapel.

You lifted your hips and helped pull your panties down the rest of the way, the plastic sheets still crinkling beneath you. Hyunjin grabbed both of your legs simultaneously, bringing them to his chest, so your open, wet cunt was exposed and displayed for him. You watched his eyes, and there it was. That concentrated and intense look that left you vulnerable and unable to move.

He kissed your wet core like the way he used a paint brush. His tongue was innocent at first, giving small licks, waiting for you to open up for him like a flower. The muscle moving like music, so very conscious of every reaction that your body gave him. Then you bloomed for him. You pushed your hips into his face sparingly, not wanting to overwhelm him. This was so new, so fresh. The first push of your hips jarred him slightly, his eyes met yours from between your legs. You could see his smirk again from under your thighs. He drove his face further into you, making you arch your back, the plastic sheet slipping from under your elbows.

Hyunjin let his eyes roll back as his tongue continued its holy work. Lapping and licking every inch of you. Your lips now swollen at the marvel of his mouth.Your hips were thrusting at a faster speed now, climbing toward your own release.

“Come inside my mouth.” Hyunjin muffled from inside of you. His breath was hot with each word.

Both of your bodies wet from sweat, you carded your fingers through Hyunjin’s hair and gripped tightly, giving yourself leverage and momentum to ride his tongue harder. The paint on your stomach still wet, dripping down onto the floor. Grinding, grinding, grinding into Hyunjin’s open mouth, you could feel the tense bundle of nerves reaching their climax, you were starting to see stars, you were no longer on this earth, in this solar system, you were something entirely new.

Your climax held there in the air for a moment. Like you were both floating, just inches off the ground. Paint had spilled everywhere. Hyunijn lifted his head back up, panting and out of breath. Saliva fell from his open mouth, dripping down his swollen lips and chin. He smiles wildly.

“So…” you huffed in between panting breaths, “anywhere else you want to paint me?”

#stray kids #skz smut #stary kids hyunjin #hyunjin stray kids #stray kids hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz requests #skz reader insert #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #writing

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pileofmush · 1 month

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In the dead of night, he crawls into your bed.

Your eyes flutter open, but you already know who it is, for you are intimately familiar with the pad of his feet against the carpet. With the dip of your mattress underneath his weight. With the sense of calm that washes over you whenever he graces you with his presence. And that’s the best way to describe whatever you and the sorcerer have going on. Intimate—and familiar.

You never know how to categorize it when your friends ask.

Not friend, nor foe. Maybe both. Or maybe something in between?

There’s a tug of war inside your brain that struggles between wanting to tangle your legs with his under the soft press of your duvet, and wanting to climb atop him, wrap your hands delicately around his neck, and squeeze.

Most nights with him, you do neither. Just lie flat and stare up at the peeling ceiling tile, just barely illuminated by the midnight glow of the moon streaming through your blinds.

Some nights, you do both. Yuuta never seems to mind, either way. Says he just wants to be near you, as he wraps his limbs around you and pulls you to him, snugly. You play dead; go limp in his arms and count the warm puffs of air against the back of your neck like sheep.

It’s not normal, you know.

But it works for the two of you.

It goes like this: Okkotsu Yuuta is a lonely, lonely man, with too much heart and not nearly enough sense.

It goes like this: You want to crawl into his skin, make home inside his chest.

And that’s really all there is to it.

Tonight, you sit up and turn on the lamp that sits on your nightstand, casting a muted yellow glow over your surroundings. You blink, rub your eyes, and lift your head in greeting.

“Hey,” he whispers, black eyes roving over you curiously. He seems alright—whole—though his shoulders sag with an inconceivable weight, and his eyebags speak of many sleepless nights. “What are you still doing up?” Gesturing to the clock on your nightstand that reads 3 am.

You hum. Press your tongue against your teeth. “Waiting for you,” you say, candidly. You understand he's a busy man. That he has responsibilities—'missions', he calls them. But it’s been two weeks since he last visited you. Far too long since the last time. Not long enough.

At your admission, Yuuta’s mouth melts into a cotton-candy smile. “I missed you, too.”

…

You hadn’t said all that, but you’ll allow it.

Yuuta’s hand slips under the covers, searching for yours, and gives a firm, quick squeeze. He pulls away, reaches behind him and pulls off his navy blue sweater—the soft, cashmere one that you said would look good on him one relaxed day at the mall. The ministrations expose the taut, pale sheen of his skin as the hem of his tee slides up, and you have to breathe deeply to ground yourself.

He folds the sweater in his lap while you push the covers back, then leans over you to set it on your nightstand. Something about him hovering over you flips a primal switch within you, and without thinking you flip it so that it’s him on his back and you leaning above him. Yuuta, to his credit, doesn’t bat an eye. Gets settled between your thighs and waits calmly for…

For you to inhale deeply; to breathe him in and try not to choke. His scent is a cloying, sickly sweetness. A poisonous flower, luring you to something sinister. Begging you to taste him and face the consequences.

It’s a sight to behold, his dark hair fanned out against your pillow, his darkening cheeks, and his dark, dark gaze that pins you in place.

His hands rest on the back of your thighs, flexing assuredly, and your hands rest on his rising and falling chest, then slowly trail up, up, up, to his cheek, his jaw, his neck. You pinch his skin gently between your thumb and forefinger. Feel his pulse jump in his throat.

He swallows, and you feel the lump of spit travel down his esophagus.

Intimate—and familiar. That’s what you are to Yuuta. Who else can say the same?

Not one.

Your hands smooth down to his shoulders as you slowly bend to his ear. Goosebumps prickle across his flesh as you whisper, softly, “Text me the next time you’re going to be away this long.”

Yuuta’s shudder is sinful.

“I won’t,” he croaks, then backtracks. “Take this long again. I promise.”

Your lips twist into a wry grin. “Good.”

ty for reading (๑´`๑)♡ for my lovely anon, rosie <3

#mushy writes .𖥔 ݁ ˖#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jjk x gn!reader #anyways don't mind me just tryna get out of my writing slump #always willing to wax poetic ab sleeping together #also why's reader kinda...#m.jjk #m.yuuta #off the cuff;#yuuta my beloved <3 #jjk

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months

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hi there, could I get poppy playtime (if that is to many characters then just catnap and dogday are fine) with a reader that has pica (if you don't know what that is it is where a person can tend to eat or bite on things not edible, like paper, erasers, eca)

I can do a few!

.....

Huggy (saved/rescued) + Poppy

While in his "idle mode" on the podium, he sees you munching on a piece of paper like lettuce and then plush stuffing like it's cotton candy.

And then you just snatch the key from him and move onto the next puzzle, and he goes "???????"

Why did you eat those things? Did they somehow sustain your hunger?

Huggy only gets to learn more after you save him from falling (and tame him with an actual edible snack you brought along), taking a breather after freeing Poppy from her box.

When he grabs one a random paper, you assume he wants to draw something as a way to communicate...until he starts chowing it down.

In his mind, humans DO eat paper and he's been starving and cannibalizing toys (and trying to eat you) for nothing...

But then he spits it out, picking shredded bits out of his teeth, before glaring at you as if you told him to eat that.

You're a little scared and confused until Poppy explains that he was only trying to mimic what you do, and she asks why you eat such random little things.

Eventually you explain to the pair of your condition called "pica".

You've had it most of your life, with an official diagnosis to boot, but it never really hurt your digestive tract.

Over the years you've cut the habit, although being stuck in this factory meant you had to find other sources of food...even those not even considered food at all.

Some of your coworkers knew about it, and their only complaint was the occasional eraser going missing thanks to you (which you deny stealing...most of the time).

"I always joke about having a cast-iron stomach," you tell the toys. "Food is the least of my......"

But you pause and look at Huggy, realizing he might be offended by you shrugging off food as negligible to your survival.

No matter what, though, it's not gonna stop him from trying different non-food items and seeing what tastes good.

He might've eaten pieces of clothing and plush fabric/stuffing over the years, albeit none of it was delicious by itself.

Dogday

"They want nothing more than to crawl beneath your skin and eat away at you bit by little bit--fill what feels empty inside themselves."

"Jesus, that sounds horrific." You say as you crunch on a piece of chalk (one of several that you got from the schoolhouse) nonchalantly.

Dogday takes immediate notice and is rather concerned. He knows the chalk and crayons here are made to be non-toxic, but insists they're not safe for human consumption.

He fears it's gonna kill you and begs you to stop, saying you needed to live.

Before you could fully explain your condition, the mini-critters are closing in, so you free him and haul ass out of the playhouse of horrors.

After making it somewhere safe where you could patch him up, he presses you on why you continue to eat all these foreign objects.

But he jumps to the conclusion that you got desperate after running out of food, going mad from hunger like the other toys did...

He recalls Picky Piggy going through something similar, and he gets a bad flashback to the Hour of Joy when he had to stop her from eating Crafty's paint....and the corpse of a Smiling Critter -

"Dogday? Hey stay with me..it's okay. I'm here, I'm here.." You console him, calming him down from his panic attack. "I'm not going crazy, alright? I just have this small condition called pica."

"...p-pica? Oh. I thought...kids grow outta that.." He mutters, finding familiarity with that term.

He's had his fair share of toddlers putting things in their mouth that could be choking hazards.

You shake your head, explaining that it stuck with you, but it doesn't cause your stomach any pain as long as you're careful about what you eat.

Dogday's relieved you're not losing it.

Even so, though, he's gonna feel nervous if he catches you eating another piece of chalk.

But it's just his instincts as a child caretaker, so you couldn't blame him.

Catnap

He hangs out in the shadows for the most part, watching your every move...and he does pick up on your strange habit of eating non-food objects.

It's something orphaned toddlers in the playhouse often did, and he'd see the other Smiling Critters hurry to take the items away from them before any emergencies happened.

But those memories mean nothing to him.

All he's doing is waiting for you to eat the wrong thing and keel over.

Unfortunately for him, you just keep trudging on, munching on a crayon like it's normal before throwing your gas mask back on.

He doesn't know how you manage to stomach so many things, and honestly is kinda envious.

Why can't he and the others sustain their hunger like you did?

It does make for some rather..amusing situations, though. Such as when you're in the smoke factory and use the elevator to escape him.

You just stand there as the doors close, eating some chalk and crunching it loudly without breaking eye contact with Catnap's horrific eldritch form.

Obviously, you're stress-eating at that point, but he doesn't have to know.

Miss Delight

The schoolhouse was like a cafeteria for someone with pica, aka you.

While looking for generators, you just pick up whatever you find: erasers, chalk, crayons, etc. and start biting them, or even chewing and swallowing them.

It only succeeds in angering Miss Delight right away, as she sees you doing all of this and snaps at how "childish" you are for eating things you shouldn't.

But you when shout back that you have pica, the PA system suddenly goes quiet.

Like Dogday and Catnap, that definitely triggered some memories for her, which she dwells on for a while before realizing you were still in the school..

And seeing you eating stuff makes her howling stomach grow louder.

"Barb" says you're mocking her own hunger, especially since she notices you gathering the notes she left around the place, and insists on killing you.

When you finally do encounter her, she is visibly disturbed by you crunching on a piece of chalk and throwing it to the ground to distract her, buying you time to break eye contact and flee.

She calls you "crazy", but you're not the one chasing her with a weapon made of a ruler and colored pencils.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #huggy wuggy #dogday #catnap #miss delight #platonic #headcanons #pica

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 7 months

Text

Hallow'seams

A Seams Halloween special oneshot

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: A spicy T

Summary: Joel proves to you that he can be adventurous if he wants to be.

Warnings: Joel wears a slutty Halloween costume, fluff, mentions of drinking, spicy thoughts but nothing explicit, no use of Y/N

Word count: 1.7k

Notes: I was so looking forward to writing this Seams Halloween special that I floated back in the summer. Unfortunately, life™ happened - I've had a very rough month and honestly I didn't think I had it in me to do any writing for the rest of this year, but then this happened! I woke up thinking about Joel wearing a Gladiator costume and couldn't put it down. It's not as long or intricate as my original idea, but I hope you enjoy this anyway. I've missed these two so much!

Thank you for sticking with me and giving me so much love, I really don't deserve you all 🧡 Happy Halloween!

Joel pushes open the door to the High Street Outfitters, one booted foot steps over the threshold -

And he stops and stares.

Pumpkins of all sizes, some more crudely carved than others, seem to occupy every conceivable surface. Black cat and broomstick decals adorn the worn wooden walls, while hand-pulled cotton cobweb the ceilings.

When his feet unstick and move into the empty shop, he nearly topples a huge cauldron of what looks like homemade candy. Steadying it with his hands, he mutters under his breath. 'What the f-'

He would never admit it, but he nearly jumps out of his skin when you emerge from the studio with a dramatic flutter of the curtain divider. 'Oh hey, you're here!'

Stepping towards you, he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a hello, and gestures. 'You really went all out, hmm?'

Your grin brims with pride, and he feels his lips stretch into an answering smile as you straighten up some of the costumes on a nearby rack.

'We found a Halloween shop nearby a few years back,' you explain. 'All their stock was still in boxes in the store room, so we took everything and ran with it. It's a lot of work every year, but the kids have so much fun with it, it's definitely worth it.'

Joel hums skeptically. 'Not just the kids have fun, from what I heard.'

You cross your arms and play coy. 'What have you heard?'

'That my brother hosts the rowdiest Halloween party in town for the adults every year, and tonight is their last hurrah before the baby comes.'

You chuckle. 'And I'm guessing you fought the costume and lost?'

'There’s no winnin’ when your sister-in-law plays the pregnancy card,' he grumbles with poorly concealed fondness.

You walk him towards the racks near the cashier. 'Here are the men's costumes. We run a pay what you want system for Halloween rentals, just pop your contribution into that pumpkin on the counter. You better hurry though, things start kicking off around seven tonight.'

Joel combs through the outfits half-heartedly, when a standalone clothes rack on the other side of the room, covered with a black sheet, catches his eye. 'And what's that?'

You hesitate, and stutter, 'Oh, um - you won’t like those.'

Arching an eyebrow, he stares down at you. 'Why is that, sweetheart?'

The endearing way you wring your hands and worry your bottom lip brings him right back to when he first met you. Your shyness has always provoked a reaction from him - an understanding at first, from the introvert in him. Then protectiveness, when he started spending time with you.

And now, knowing you the way he does, with you opening up to him over the past few months, he lets his mouth relax into a half-smirk, one hand curling around your waist to pull you into his side as he teases, 'Use your words, Pin.'

You huff, recognising the playfulness in his body language, but you still struggle to get the words out. 'They’re - um, damnit - they're adventurous.'

He sets his face in a mock stern expression. 'And what, I’m too borin' for them?'

Narrowing your eyes at him, which makes him grin, you deadpan, 'It's just - they're not your thing, ok? They're of the -' you pause, and gesture in air quotes. 'Occupational variety.'

Comprehension dawns on him, and he drawls, 'Ah, you mean slutty costumes.'

He can feel your skin heat at his words as you duck your head, and he teases, voice low and gruff by your ear. 'And will you be wearin' somethin' slutty for me tonight, sweetheart?'

Your breath hitches and your lips part, eyes glassy at the turn of the mood. 'Joel -'

He isn't a particularly spiritual man, but the longer he lives, the more he’s convinced that some people are put on earth for a reason.

And Lucy's raison d'etre is to cockblock him at every turn.

The door bursts open with a brash energy that is uniquely hers (with an uncanny resemblance to Ellie's), and your best friend doesn't skip a beat at the sight of the pair of you canoodling. 'Save the making out for later, Miller. We gotta go get ready Pin, c’mon!'

You hastily press a kiss to his whiskered cheek. 'Pick your costume and lock up behind you, ok? I'll see you in a bit.'

Lucy all buts hauls you out of the shop, throwing over her shoulder. 'See ya later, Miller! You better show up half naked!'

Curiosity getting the better of him, Joel pulls back the sheet from the clothes rack, and his eyebrows reach for his softly graying hairline. Leafing through the options, he pauses somewhere in the middle, and smiles to himself.

He’ll show you adventurous.

Maria and Tommy's Halloween party is easily the most anticipated event in the Jackson social calendar. Illicit incentives often swap hands for a RSVP, with those unfortunate enough to be assigned patrol duties on the night willing to pay handsomely for a swap in shifts.

While the kids are knocked out at home from eating their body weight in sugar, the Tipsy Bison is teeming with townsfolk. The normally dark interiors are decked out floor to ceiling in garish black and orange, as if people wouldn't get the memo.

Joel was apprehensive on his arrival, pausing for a moment outside the double doors of the establishment to steel himself. But as soon as he crosses the threshold into the warm and boisterous bar, so loud that his right ear rings, he realises that his worries are completely unwarranted.

No one even bats an eyelid as he wades through the throngs of partygoers, nodding politely at acquaintances who drunkenly shout his name and raise a pitcher in greeting.

It's pure madness - Halloween stopped existing for him twenty years ago. The last time he went to a Halloween party was their neighbour's barbeque. He still remembers the Gryffindor costume he bought Sarah, and how big she smiled swishing around in her robe, casting gibberish spells on her friends all night.

This, however, is a distinctly grownup affair.

When he put on his costume and stood in front of the mirror an hour ago, he could barely look at his own reflection. But now, compared to others in the room, turns out his choice is almost demure.

He only saw Gladiator once when it came out a couple of years before the outbreak, but he liked it, and when he saw the costume on the rack, he picked it out straight away.

The dark red cape sits on his shoulders and drapes across half of his torso - shirtless, of course - baring his right arm. He's a bit self-conscious about the skirt (he's sure there's a name for it but the packaging didn't shed light on this), which sits mid-thigh, fastened by a belt around his waist. He's even wearing the Roman sandals and leather bracelet, and a plastic sword hangs from his belt - the full monty.

The vain side in him thinks he can pull it off, but more importantly -

He wore it for you.

But you're nowhere to be seen, even after he grabs a beer from the counter, having circled the bar twice. Spotting a lone empty chair at a high table, he decides to perch (pulling down his skirt so his boxers don't show) while he has a drink and looks for you.

His keen eyes scan the room methodically. Sexy witches, slutty lumberjacks, misbehaving firemen, naughty nurses - together with the noise, everyone and everything seems to blur into one, and he almost gives up when something familiar crosses his line of sight.

Joel frowns.

Hold up. That toolbelt looks familiar. His eyes narrow as he squints at the worn faded leather.

It is his toolbelt. The toolbelt that disappeared from his garage workshop a couple of days ago that Ellie swears she knows nothing about. That little shit.

Then his gaze pulls back, like a camera zooming out, and he finds that the toolbelt is sitting on the soft swell of a pair of hips, over short denim cut-offs that he's sure he's seen before, and below a red flannel. His red flannel, knotted at the waist, that he knows you sleep in every night.

His chest rumbles with something primal, and he downs the rest of his beer in one big gulp before slamming the empty pint glass on the table and getting onto his feet.

You don’t see him coming, but you know without turning around the moment a pair of strong hands close over your hips in a possessive grip, pulling you towards the bathroom in the back of the bar.

He knocks a breathless laugh out of you when he pushes you up the closed door, the noise of the party muted by the thick timber as you grin up at him, preening at the way his dark gaze rakes over your costume.

A shiver runs down your spine as your own undoubtedly dilated eyes follow the solid outline of his right arm, which flexes as he rests his palm on the door behind you, then down his broad chest and the soft belly he’s so nonchalantly putting on display.

It’s absurd, you know - it’s just a tacky Halloween costume, but the seams of your eyes prickle as you muse how comfortable he is in his own skin.

'And what exactly are you dressed up as?' he asks, sliding his free hand under the toolbelt to squeeze your ass.

'A slutty contractor,' you answer boldly, dragging your index finger down his bare chest. 'Isn't it obvious?'

'And you thought stealin' my toolbelt for your little costume was a good idea?' he growls.

'Well, I didn't know you'd turn up as a gladiator of all things,' you tease, wrapping your fingers around the hilt of his plastic sword.

It should not make his pulse spike like this.

'Not only that, sweetheart. I'm a slutty gladiator, thank you very much,' he retorts, walking into you to slot his hips flush against yours.

You shoot him a loaded smirk that instantly has his boxers shrink by two sizes. Ripping his cape off his shoulders, you ask cheekily, ‘And what does my champion demand as punishment -'

Joel doesn't let you finish your sentence, swallowing the rest of it with a kiss so deep that it steals your voice and takes out your knees in one fell swoop.

Grinning at the way you're already bonelessly slumped against him, he winks, nose brushing yours. 'I can think of a few things, sweetheart.'

Note: Thank you for reading! I had so much fun dipping my toe back into the Seams universe, I hope you did too. This is me warming up with a view of returning to writing for the series proper, fingers crossed sometime soon! Comments/reblogs/asks are very much appreciated as always 🧡

Thank you @firefly-graphics for the adorably spooky dividers!

#fuckyeahseams #hallow'seams #seams halloween special #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff

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blueberryxbloom · 4 days

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♥︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐖𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 ♥︎

[𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢-𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚡𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

| smut warning | 18+content|

Candyland is a sugary and delightful world full of fantastical sweetness in the literal sense. The landscape is covered in treats, where colorful gumdrops and lollipops grow from the fertile chocolate nut mix soil, and sugar-coated clouds float through the bright blue sky. Despite the sweet and sugary environment, there are always dangers, especially for you, a human with zero self-preservation. In fact, just last week you were almost eaten after you jumped in the chocolate river by chocolaty crocodiles. There was also the time when you poked a cotton candy bush with a peppermint cane that contained a colony of sticky, web-spinning sugar spiders. Ah, there was also the time....blah blah.

Honestly, you should really count yourself lucky that Madam Gumball brought your candy-monster boyfriend into existence. Otherwise, you would have died a long time ago if it weren't for him coming to your rescue each time he hears your screams from miles away. He has even lost money by closing his bakery shop early each day to rush to your aid, but he doesn't care. Compared to the possibility of losing you, those chocolate gold coins are insignificant. You're far more important to him than any amount of profit he could possibly make. His desire to protect you so overwhelming that sometimes he wishes to just lock you away in his room to keep you safe, but knows your adventurous spirit wouldn't like such confinement. Perhaps you would even hate him. Oh, just the thought of you hating him and losing your affection is enough to crush his candy soul. Therefore, he will never do it or do anything that could risk you developing such negative feelings toward him.

Today, rather than running off to sugar wizard knows where you decide to hang out with him at his bakery shop. This brought a wide smile to his round jawbreaker candy face, that if he had eyes, they would have sparkled with pure joy. It's a truly happy day for him because he gets to spend time with you while making sure you're safe and sound.

He's beaming with a smile as he prepares the ingredients to make your favorite pastry. While you sit on top of the counter, watching him work, and play with his utensils. He pauses mid-task as the sound of you playing with his rolly rancher candy knives reaches him.

"Careful there, sweetheart. Put those down, I don't want you to get hurt.," he says, his voice laced with worry.

You reply, "Alright, alright, I'll put them down". After putting the knives down, you jump off the counter and wrap your arms on his waist

He looked down at you with a smile, displaying his triangular shaped teeth. His muscular arms surrounded you with tenderness that contradicted their strength. He is 7'6 feet tall, and his whole body is made with jawbreaker candy that's hard, smooth, and sweet to the tongue. Although his head is just a jawbreaker candy with a mouth, he has broad shoulders, muscular arms, a muscular torso, and muscular legs that are white and freckled with flecks of edible paint in various colors.

He could easily break every bone in your body and turn you into a human slushy. Yet, he cradles you so gently, like you were made of delicate glass candy.

"I love you, sweetheart," he said, his voice filled with affection.

"I love you too, honey," you said.

He gave you a bright smile, as a flush of pink washes over his white jawbreaker candy face.

He moves his things from his prepping station, pushing them to the side to make room for you. Then, he scoops you up in his strong arms, lifting you and gently settling you on top of the now-cleared surface.

He gently cupped your chin with his massive hand, bending down to meet you at eye level. His lips met your in a soft, sweet kiss, the taste of sugar and sweetness filling your mouth. He pulls slightly from the kiss and leans down to whisper in your ear.

"You are so delicious, I can't never get enough of you," he said, his voice soft with a hint of breathlessness.

You smile and shiver lightly as he begins to kiss your skin. Starting just below your ear, slowly making his way down your neck and leaving a trail of sugar and sweetness. He lifted your sugar spun shirt, revealing your chocolate molded bra. He then crumbled it before gently squeezing your breast while his rainbow-colored gummy snake-like tongue traced along your neck and collarbone. You couldn't help but moan, arching back into his touch, wanting more of his sweet caress.

He groaned in response, his fruit roll pants tightening at the sound of your voice. One of his hands fondled your sensitive bud while the other moved downwards, tracing along your stomach before reaching toward your cotton candy panties.

"How about you lay back and let me take care of you, sweetheart," he says, his voice filled with a mixture of sweetness and desire. While his fingers graze lightly over the fluffy fabric of your panties.

you responded with an "Okay" and laid back.

He loosens his airhead xtreme candy tie and takes off your cupcake liners skirt. Then, he spreads your legs wide open and presses his tongue against the fabric of your panties, which quickly dissolve, leaving nothing behind of your panties but a faint sugary taste on his tongue. He starts to dives in with his tongue, flicking it over your clit.

"Sweetheart.. your...so sweet and delicious..." He mumbled, his hand on your thigh gripping you firmly. You moan and squirm under his touch. Your reactions only fueled him, making him even more eager to please you.

He continued to lick and suck, shifting his focus from one sensitive spot to another. Sending shockwaves through your body, and you cried out in pleasure. He found the perfect spot and held on tight, refusing to let go until you came for him.

"Come for me, Sweetheart... come all over my face," his voice, raw with desire and breathless edge.

You pressed his head against your pussy, feeling his tongue delve deeper inside you. A rush of ecstasy ran through you, making your arch your back as far as you could, and your legs cross tightly around his neck. With a loud cry, you coated his face with your cum.

Your trembling legs finally let him go. He slowly retreated his tongue from your depths, trailing kisses along your inner thighs as you tried to catch your breath. Wearing a satisfied smile, he licked his face clean with his rainbow color gummy snake-like tongue. Then he kissed you, letting you taste the sweetness of your own cum on his lips.

"How was that, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice husky with desire, fully aware of how good he made you feel. He just wanted his ego stroke by you, his beloved. Your eyes slightly darted to the huge bulge that was being strained against his fruit roll pants. He wasn't done with you yet. Oh, no, far from it.

You shallow before speaking as your heart race with a mix of excitement and anticipation. "You're so...good", you managed to say.

He grins smugly, his confidence on full display as he begins to undo his fruit leather belt.

"I know," he responded, the words dripping with arrogance and sweetness. "But I'm just getting started, sweetheart," he said.

Suddenly, a loud ringing sound breaks the moment. It's the chiming of the toffee bell at the front of the bakery, signaling that a customer has entered. He registered the sound and reluctantly pulled himself away from you, his lips formed a tight line as he pursed them together with annoyance.

"Are we done?" You asked, hoping he would say no, knowing well that it wasn't likely, but a girl can wish, can't they?

He lets out a frustrated sigh and nods."I guess we have to pause this for now," he grumbles, disappointment clear in his voice.

Dammit.

He straightens up. "Sorry, sweetheart, we'll have to continue this when I close the bakery," he says apologetically.

"Okay.. that's fine, "you respond, trying not to sound too disappointed.

He plants a final kiss before heading out of the kitchen, fixing his tie and belt along the way.

[Author, Note/𝙍𝙖𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚]

I made this 10x time harder to write for myself and I spent so much time into this My monster doesn't have eyes yet my ass unconsciously keeped typing sentences with "looks" "glaze" "[emotion] in his eyes" 😭😭I deleted/retype so many things cuz it didn't make sense with him not having eyes to see but I love the concept of him not having eyes😭😭

I wanna kiss😚 a 💋candy monster💋 he would taste so sweet🍬 and since he would be made of sugar🍭... sugar-fueld... all night🌚, all day🌞 Never stopping until I pass out💤 Yo his cum would also be sweet💥😲 would totally lick the thing clean 👅Ya think his cum would be like icing, marshmallow goo or just milk🥛?...sorry I think its time to log off 🌱

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reginaldqueribundus · 2 years

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thinking about Luffy from the perspective of an everyday schmo in his world is hilarious. And I don’t mean “I heard he was 20 feet tall” etc., though that is still really funny. I mean think about what’s public knowledge on him.

this guy comes out of nowhere, declares war on the fucking government, blows up the centre of their justice system, punches one of the people who run your entire planet & are worshipped as gods and somehow gets away with it, breaks into the most secure prison in the world, breaks right back out again just to jump feet-first into the biggest war in recent memory during which you find out his dad's also trying to overthrow the government, his grandfather works for the government, the pirate king’s kid is his adopted brother. He is seen mouthing off to a freaking Emperor (aka one of the Four Most Scariest Pirates In The Entire World), and another Emperor casually gives him his hat back. A few weeks later he breaks into the headquarters of the world’s biggest military (which is actively hunting him btw) just so he can ring a bell, and the pirate king's right-hand man is there helping him.

And then he fucking disappears for two years.

Suddenly he's back, he teams up with a Government-Sanctioned Pirate™ to save some country you’ve never heard of by beating the shit out of Pablo Escobar and is publicly hailed as a hero?? then he works with Al Capone, a bunch of mermen and the villains from your comic books to assassinate an Emperor, wrecks her tea party and blows up her house instead, runs away and takes out a completely different Emperor while letting his buddies deal with the first one. Here’s his crew:

a guy who used to kill pirates for a living

a woman who studies ancient superweapons and blew up six ships at age 8

actual royalty

your favourite rock star

an 8ft-tall cyborg

a cat burglar in a bikini

some kind of fish monster

“God”

also he has a pet raccoon or something and apparently feeds it cotton candy

but in every photo, he's just some little fucker in jean shorts with a huge smile on his face. oh, and his other brother is Ché Guevara. absolutely buckwild. how do you cope

#monkey d. luffy #one piece #a post by me™#1k

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courtforshort15 · 1 year

Text

A Matter of Opinion

Pairing: Matt Murdock x femReader

Word Count: 2,800

Summary: A tale of disagreements, egging each other on, and a general disregard of the other’s opinion.

Trigger warning: So much fluff it might as well be cotton candy

Masterlist

“So what you’re saying is…you don’t want to be with me anymore.”

From across the room, Foggy snorts.

The gloating smirk falls from Matt’s face, quickly replaced by a look of confusion. “What? That’s not at all–”

“That’s what you literally just said to my face.”

Matt scoffs, waving his hand in dismissive action. “I definitely didn’t say anything of the sort.”

“You told me you don’t trust my opinion, Matt,” you say with narrowed eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. You stare him down, knowing that while he can’t see it, he can certainly feel it. With a mild look of alarm crossing his face, Matt leans back on his left foot as if the force of your stare actually unsettles his balance.

He clears his throat. “Well, not when it comes to–”

“Ah ah ah,” you cut him off before he finishes his sentence. He rolls his shoulders, standing up straight, files of case notes at his fingertips from where he stands next to the table. Matt tilts his head, still looking incredibly confused. It takes everything in you to not walk out of the room and leave him to sweat it out. “You either trust it or you don’t.”

“Come on, you know that’s not at all how I meant it.”

“How are we jumping from not trusting you to not wanting to be with you?” he asks as his face shifts to one that’s a mix of incredulity and slight anxiety, voice growing steadily louder. He takes a small step forward, frowning when you take a step backwards.

“And if you don’t trust my opinion, then how can you trust me?”

“So you admit that you don’t trust me.”

“I didn’t say-”

“And if you don’t trust me, then why would you want to be with me?”

Matt groans and tosses his head back in a gesture of God help me. “Sweetheart–”

“Foggy,” you call to the other man in the room, not bothering to shift your head in his direction, eyes still locked on Matt’s tense form in front of you as you ignore the pet name. “Did you or did you not just hear Matthew say he doesn’t trust my opinion?”

Foggy snorts again, the sound of rustling paper sliding throughout the office as he picks up his folder. He doesn’t bother looking up as he shakes his head in amusement. “Nope. Not getting in the middle of this.”

“Come on, Foggy,” Matt says, his tone bordering on exasperation. “You gonna let her tear me down this like this?”

“Not getting in the middle of it,” Foggy repeats with a wide grin that suggests he’s enjoying watching Matt be put on the spot. Foggy moves into your field of vision as he noisily slaps a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “I love you, but she scares me. I’m playing Switzerland on this one.”

“I’ll get in the middle of it,” Karen cheerfully chirps from the conference room table as she picks up her own laptop and begins gathering her stuff to take back to her office. “I’m siding with your girlfriend on this one, Matt. You threw yourself under your own damn bus when you told her that you had better taste than her.”

Matt groans loudly as you send a bright smile her way, catching her wink and flashing one of your own. “Thanks, Karen. Your tab is on me tonight.”

“I did not say that,” Matt says as he runs an agitated hand through his dark hair. You bite your bottom lip in amusement, always secretly pleased at the way you’re able to rile him up, well aware that he’ll get you back at some point this evening. “You all know that I–”

You interrupt him with a smirk. “You said, and I quote, “Why would we go to that awful pizza place she likes when I have a much better option for us? You know I have a better sense of taste.””

One masculine and one feminine set of laughter match each other from the other side of the table, further fueled by the pained look on Matt’s face as his words are shot back at him. Karen and Foggy are helpless to stop the giggles at their friend’s misfortune. He flounders for a second as he flushes, and you briefly consider taking it easy on him.

“I didn’t mean it to sound that way,” Matt tells you, his tongue sliding out as he ran it over his lips, the telltale sign of anxiety. “I just thought that we should go to the restaurant off of 37th. I’ve walked by it quite a bit since it opened and it smells amazing. So much better than–”

All sympathy for the devil leeches out of you with a snap. “I dare you to finish that statement.”

“I’ve been to where she’s talking about, Matt,” Karen pipes back in. She finishes picking her stuff up from the table, curled blond hair sliding over her shoulders as she flashes a smile your way. “It’s pretty good.”

“No offense, Karen,” Matt says with a shake of his head, red lenses glinting from the office light, “but you’re not from New York, so you don’t know what good pizza is.”

Karen raises a perfectly arched eyebrow and you can’t help the cackle of glee that escapes your lips as Matt digs himself further into a hole. “You really want to go there, Matt? I think you’re sadly lacking in allies right now.”

“You chose her side, Karen. We’re not allies right now anyway.”

“Maybe not,” she says with a happy shrug of her shoulders, lips splitting her pretty face open in laughter. Her blue eyes glint in a sense of amusement that barely hides her sharp ability to tear a man down a few pegs. It’s one of your favorite things about her. She crosses the room with her laptop tucked in one arm, folders in the other hand. “But it doesn’t mean we’re enemies. Just take back what you said about her opinion on pizza places sucking.”

“She’s from Chicago!” Matt growls in frustration. “Of course it does.”

You throw your head back with a loud laugh, enjoying the look of your flustered boyfriend, finding the conversation too funny to even be offended. “New York doesn’t own the market on good pizza, Matthew. Why can’t you just–”

“There’s just something about Chicago pizza that isn’t right,” he cuts you off with a look that suggests aggravation. He shakes his head emphatically, hands on his hips. “The ingredients are wrong, the spices and sauces just don’t match together all that well. It’s a travesty.”

“You act like you know all there is to know about food and what things go together and what don’t.”

“I do!” Matt cries out as he suddenly throws his hands in the air. “I literally do. And even without my senses I’d know that nothing beats New York pizza.”

“So arrogant,” Karen quips. “Can’t bring yourself to admit that others simply have different tastes than you.”

“Karen, you eat your pizza with ranch. You really have no room to talk.”

“Pizza with ranch isn’t bad,” you throw in, sending Karen a wink as you shrug your shoulders in a display of casual nonchalance. “I’ve been known to enjoy it a time or two.”

Matt turns to the other man in the room, one hand gesturing towards his friend in frustration of being all but ganged up on. You can’t help but snort at the motion that seems entirely too desperate for the situation. “Foggy, back me up here.”

Foggy laughs loudly. It’s the kind of laugh that offers no pity or effort to console, just a laugh that tells the room that Matt is on his own. “No can do, my dear friend. I am an equal opportunist when it comes to pizza. A pizza connoisseur, if you will.”

“You all are crazy.”

“Says the man who only eats ice cream if it’s plain vanilla,” you say as you raise your eyebrows, watching the man. His mouth drops in a sharp sense of betrayal, as if you were giving away a private secret that no one else in the room is privy to, though you know both Foggy and Karen are completely aware of his extremely picky eating.

“I eat sorbets, too,” he says defensively, hands back on his hips. From behind red lenses, you see his eyes narrow.

“Sorbet is not ice cream.”

Matt tilts his chin up. “It is a sweet and tasty treat that you put in a freezer and later eat with a spoon. It counts.”

“Ice cream is dairy based. Sorbet is fruit based. Big difference.”

“I’d hardly–”

“You’re so lucky you’re pretty, Matt,” you coo suddenly, taking a few steps in his direction and reaching up to touch his heated cheeks with the back of your fingers. “You had a late night last night, didn’t come to bed until three. I can tell you’re tired and not thinking straight. Maybe we should go home instead of going to dinner so my beautiful Matty can take a nap.”

“Isn’t this a form of gaslighting?” Foggy whispers to Karen in the background.

Matt gently pushes you away with a growl of annoyance even as his lips twist up in the beginning form of a smirk. “I’m fine. It’s not my fault your pizza sucks.”

“That’s super rude of you, Matthew. I hope you’re prepared to sleep on the couch tonight.”

The smirk falls. “Sweetheart–”

“You two fight like an old married couple,” Foggy interjects from the other side of the room, finally on his way out of the conference space, mouth tilted in a grin that doesn’t bother hiding her extreme amusement. “Just propose already.”

You flush, eyes wide as you give Foggy and Karen a look that’s both panicked and pointed. “We haven’t even talked about marriage yet–”

“Shut up, Foggy,” Matt hisses as you’re talking, a severe frown aimed at his friend. “You know the ring is still being sized, so I’m not–”

Your mouth clamps shut as his words hit you, effectively cutting off the rest of your response to Foggy and Karen, and Matt immediately freezes when he realizes what he’s said. The energy in the room abruptly shifts, silence sharply cutting through the laughter and teasing argument. You don’t turn to him just yet, instead letting your round eyes take in the hand that Karen had slapped over her mouth and the pale face of Foggy who clearly hadn’t expected Matt to respond the way he did. Between Karen’s shocked face and Foggy’s look of guilt, it’s enough to cause you to swallow sharply, goosebumps lighting up and down your skin.

Matt clears his throat softly, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice how tense his form has gone, his white dress shirt straining slightly at his shoulders as he holds himself stiffly. “Can you—can you give us some privacy?”

Foggy and Karen leave with jerky nods of their heads and exit the conference room without a word, though they both take multiple glances back. When they’re gone, you finally manage to turn your face back towards Matt’s, taking in the flushed skin and eyes that have suddenly lost their glasses. He doesn’t speak, though he opens his mouth and closes it a few times as if he has something to say but doesn’t know how to say it.

The silence is almost nerve-wracking, so you put an end to it.

“So…” you trail off, raising your eyebrows as you study him fondly, eyeing the way his hand twitches at his side, glasses held in a tight grip. “There’s a ring?”

Matt nods his head slowly, tongue poking out to run slighty over his bottom lip. His eyes flutter closed for a quick moment before he takes a deep breath and snaps them back open. “Yes. There’s a ring.”

A wide smile blooms across your face, and you’re unable to reign in the joy that pulses through you. “Is there…a specific question that’ll go with that ring?” you ask as your hand reaches out to finger one of the buttons on his collared shirt, your tone teasing. The action is instinctive, one you often use to catch Matt’s attention and encourage to step forward closer, and it receives the same response as always. Matt’s lips shift into a soft smile, the one he so often gives you in these quieter, more intimate moments, and all at once, the nerves fall away.

“Of course there’s a question,” he responds with a brief nod of his head, the apprehension in his eyes shifting to something warm in his blank gaze. “Is there an answer that you might have?”

You tilt your head in consideration and pretend to ponder the question. Matt’s eyes blindly trail over your face, a barely noticeable hitch in his breath betraying a mind that, despite the small grin lighting up his face, is on edge in anticipation. “Yes.”

Matt raises an eyebrow at your one-word answer. “Yes, as in there’s an answer? Or yes, as in…you’re saying yes?”

“What do you think it is?”

He tosses his head back with a groan. “Sweetheart, don’t play with me. What are you–”

“Y–”

“If I might interrupt for just a moment,” Foggy’s voice calls out from his office, completely oblivious to the fact that he had just cut off your answer to Matt’s question, leaving the two of you standing close to each other with Matt growling in annoyance under his breath even as your lips curve into an amused smile. “As best man, I’d like to offer the suggestion that pizza not be served at your wedding. And–”

The conference room door is quickly slammed shut in a brief flash of long blond hair as Karen opens her mouth to yell at the other man. “Shut the hell up, Foggy, before I cut your tongue off and make you mime your opening argument to the jury.”

Foggy makes a startled choking noise of horror before he manages to squeak out, “yes, ma’am.”

When Matt’s satisfied there will be no more interruptions, his head turns back towards yours from where he had been glaring daggers in Foggy’s general direction. A small smile tilts the corner of his mouth up as his body relaxes, no doubt having heard your mouth open with a yes before Foggy rudely had cut off the full word.

“You were saying?” he asks as he steps further into you and presses the heat of his body into yours until all you can feel is warmth.

You send him a teasing grin before it changes abruptly into a false frown. “You know, I actually just lost my train of thought,” you say in mock sadness. “What were we–”

“Holy mother of God,” he mutters under his breath. “Why do you have to make everything so difficult?”

“If you’re referring to our pizza argument, you’ll recall that I never dissed New York pizza the way you dissed Chicago pizza. You’re the one who—”

“Shut up,” he huffs in barely restrained amusement, reaching out to settle his hands on your shoulders in a failed attempt to change the tone of the conversation. Eventually he just gives in, eyes lighting up as he shakes his head. “I’m trying to ask you to marry me.”

“Technically, you haven’t actually asked any–”

“Marry me.”

“Honey, that’s still not a question. That’s a demand.”

Matt’s hands pull your face to his, angling your head up so that he can press his lips to yours as swiftly as possible before pulling away just as quickly. “Will.” Another kiss. “You.” A nip to your bottom lip. “Marry.” An open mouthed kiss as you giggle against his lips. “Me?”

You can’t help the laughter that bubbles out, Matt’s matching grin the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as he pulls away. It’s a question you don’t even have to consider the answer to, but that doesn’t mean you won’t tease him for it. “Of course I will, but–”

Dark eyes widen drastically. “There’s a but?”

“Hush, Matthew. You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

Matt gives you a frown that is far too exaggerated to be actually offended. “I can’t believe your answer to my marriage proposal was yes, but.”

You roll your eyes fondly as you reach out to tap his cheek in soothing matter that feels more like a teasing gesture. “Yes, I will marry you, but on one condition.”

He openly gapes for a second before he narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Name it.”

“We ditch these losers and have our own naked pizza party at home.”

“I am NOT a loser!”

“Yes you are, Foggy.”

The smile on Matt’s face is nothing short of blinding, even as the other two object in the background. “I happily agree to these terms, but from the place I suggested.”

“You’re prepared to die on that hill, aren’t you?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his forehead on yours. “You gave your condition, I gave mine.”

“You drive a steep bargain, Counselor, but I accept.”

#daredevil #matt murdock #human disaster matt murdock #marvel #foggy nelson #karen page #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x you #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #reader fanfiction #matt murdock x fem reader #daredevil x fem reader

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