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#sticky candy man
skrollan · 2 years
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~ Hello big boy ~ Have this sticky candy-man to sweeten your day!
(i was too lazy to draw his other hand so it became mochi-goop instead)
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januaryembrs · 28 days
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BLACK CAT GIRLFRIEND | Spencer Reid x reader
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request: Hey Congratulations on the 2K! Do you think you could write something with Spencer Reid and a Reader who has lots of tattoos and/or piercings? Like she's the whole "bad girl" stereotype but Spencer and her complement each other so well and have a very sweet and mature relationship. I would love something like that.
description: the team meet Spencer's new girlfriend and she doesn't look quite like they'd imagined
word count: 1.1k
main masterlist
authors note: I officially hit 2k followers this morning!! see my post here for requesting but lets start this milestone off with a bang!! thankyou so much :))))))
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Morgan had to admit, you weren’t exactly what he’d envisioned when Pretty Boy had been talking his ear off for months about the girl in his apartment building that had slipped him your number. He wasn’t judgemental, not by a longshot, but Spencer had always seemed like the type to date the preppy, library geek, or even the cutesy geneticist if Maeve had been anything to go off of. 
It’s not like you weren’t hot, he could see that you were a mile away, but you looked like you’d sooner break someone’s wrist for so much as talking to you than fall for their resident genius. 
You smiled tightly, shaking Derek’s hand with a crushing grip, as Spencer introduced you to his team, the obnoxiously loud bass almost drowning out his words as the six of you stood in the bar. 
“Nice to meet you, Spencer talks about you all the time,” You said politely, and no sooner had you let go of the man’s warm hand, two arms were thrown over your shoulders and you were tugged into a hug. 
“I’m Penelope- oh you’re so pretty, Morgan isn’t she so pretty? You should marry Spencer then you can be boyfriend girlfriend for, like, life-” The perky voice was all a jumble as the blonde pulled away, cupping your face, rubbing down your arms kindly, sweetly, like you were swallowing a warm spoon of honey. 
“Penelope, newbie rules, remember,” Emily chimed in, seeing your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion of personal space. She could see this ending with the pretty pink bows Garcia had plaited her hair in torn to shreds on the sticky floor, right next to her long barbie locks if your intimidating figure was anything to go off, “Not everyone likes hugs,”
“No, no,” You replied, smiling gently at the woman who was softer than cotton candy, “Hugs are nice,” 
“We’re going to be very best friends, I can feel it, which is funny because my tarot actually said I’d meet a strong Taurus woman- or are you a Scorpio-” Penny’s smile was dazzling, but she was soon ushered to let go of the bear like grip she had on your shoulders by a chuckling Morgan.
“Let the other kids play with her, babygirl,” He said, and you were pulled in another direction towards Emily who gave a polite handshake. 
“Nice ink,” She said with raised brows as she saw the intricate sketches that covered the back of your hands, trailing up your arm and under the band tee you wore. She knew who they were, though they only dragged up memories of her own days of thick eyeliner and rebelling against her mother. “They must have hurt like a bitch, I got one on my hip and could barely sit for one hour,” 
You snickered, nodding, seeing her eyes trailing over the ones on your ankles and knees where your ripped jeans flashed them all. 
“Bones hurt the most, though the one on my ass is up there for the worst ones,” You replied, and Penny’s brows shot into her hairline, though she giggled like a schoolgirl being told a secret.
“I think we’re gonna need to see the proof on that one,” Morgan teased flirtily, the way he always did, the way he did even with JJ who had a whole child and partner, because it was his natural state of being. 
Spencer smiled as his team warmed to you, though he was quick to pull you to him with a gentle arm around the waist. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Derek, that man was practically his brother, he’d taken bullets for the guy, but he liked having you close, even if to just remind himself that you were all his, including said tattoo on your buttcheek that he’d seen plenty of times. 
The team didn’t need to know that, but you could tell your words had reminded him of it as he pressed a shy kiss behind your ear.
He was careful to avoid the studs and links that glittered from your ear lobe, wrapping over the cartilage on your helix, though he loved to stare at them on nights where you tied your hair up and he could count every one of them. To him you were a work of art, complex and detailed with every glance he stole. You were an illustration in one of his many books, everything he imagined for himself times a million. 
“I’m going to go get a drink, do you want one?” You said, looking up at him with puppy eyes, like a lovestruck teenager, fat adoration in your gaze. It oozed out of every inch of you, and JJ thought for a moment that you looked nothing like the scary doberman woman that Spence had originally brought over to meet them. You looked in love, the saccharine, soft and dazed kind of in love. 
“Let me get it for you,” Spencer rooted around his pocket for his wallet, turning to see Morgan’s beer bottle running low, “You having another one?”
“I’m good, my man, you just sort yourself and your lady out,” Derek flashed him a thousand watt smile and clapped him on the shoulder as you entwined your fingers with his, pulling him through the cluster of people and towards the bar, “What a stud,” 
Penelope giggled again, leaning towards her adonis best friend with honeyglow cheeks, watching their genius get led like a dog on a leash. 
“Oh lover boy had got it bad,” She drawled, watching Reid, their Reid, develop an uncharacteristically protective stance as a few men at the bar shot looks up and down your body. She couldn’t blame them either, you were a sight for sore eyes. “Okay, so do I have to be the first one to point out how hot she is or have I maybe had one too many margaritas?” 
“She seems nice,” JJ chose her words carefully, still not entirely sure she would have ever put the two of you together but she saw the way Spence’s eyes got round and longing when he looked over you. He’d clearly said something to make you laugh, and an inked hand raised up to brush his chocolate curls out of his face lovingly, “She seems good for him,”
A murmur of agreement ran through the four of them, Emily taking one more sip of her martini as her eyes roved over your figure returning with something fruity and colourful, “Anyone else dying to know what’s on her ass?” 
-
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satoruwiki · 2 months
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♡⃕ SO SWEET ! ₊⁺
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MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DNI!!
content: nsfw; smut; porn w no plot; afab!reader; fem!reader; cunilingus; inappropriate use of strawberry syrup and a lollipop…
w.c: 1.2k
n/a: i know it’s not good for you but PLEASE don’t ruin my fantasy 😞. this is fiction guys don’t try it at home. english isn’t my first language and im still a rookie at writing so bear with me please! any feedback/request/interaction supporting this post is very much appreciated <3 repost bc there’s no way im letting this go.
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...
Satoru loves sweets. Whether they are mochis, dangos, candies, you name it. Do you know how they taste better, though?
When they're coated in your juices.
Oh, that has Satoru sent to another orbit. Satoru's sweet and pervy tooth relishes in the mixed taste of something sweet with your arousal. Just thinking about it has his slacks becoming too tight for him and his mouth watering for a taste of your sweet cunt.
Satoru likes to hear the shy noises and soft moans you let out when the cold and sticky texture of the strawberry syrup he squeezes out from the bottle falls onto your nipples or your puffy lips. It makes the experience even more delightful for him.
Or the look on your flushed and dazed face when his tongue laps a long stroke on your slit, your hips jerking up when he gives a mean suck to your swollen clit. But the taste. Oh, the taste.
"Fuck, you taste so fucking good," Satoru groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he eats you out—absolutely pussy drunk, the taste of strawberry and your cum lingering on his tongue. Your back arches off the bed, your legs have him locked as your hands yank his hair to have him pressed to your pussy, feeling your second orgasm coming by leaps and bounds.
"You're gonna cum again, baby? Gonna have this pretty pussy gushing f'me?" he asks, rutting his hips on the mattress to have some relief on his aching cock, parting your folds with his tongue; his tight grip on your thighs leaving red handprints.
"Yes, yes, yes, yes," you sobbed lightheaded, grinding your hips against him until you cried out his name, seeing stars as your hips stuttered, gushing all over him and soaking the sheets underneath you in your squirt.
Satoru kissed your trembling thighs and your soaked cunt lovingly, patiently waiting for you to come down for your high. "You okay?" he asked softly, his mouth glistening in drool and remains of strawberry syrup and your cum.
You nodded, managing a soft 'mhm' out of your mouth between gasps and soft pants, a weak but satisfied smile drawn on your lips.
"Good, 'cause I'm not done with you yet," he says, pulling away from between your thighs to get something out of his pocket. A small lollipop came out of his pocket.
Satoru unwrapped the candy carefully, popping it into his mouth. Through your half-lidded eyes, you saw him staring at you lusciously, his tongue swirling around the sweet and sucking the lollipop lewdly, pulling it out of his mouth and making a 'pop' sound. Ugh, this man, always doing something extra to look sexy.
Satoru sat back on the bed, a gentle tap on your thighs. "Lift your legs and press them together, baby," he instructed. You listened, holding your legs together in the air, though a little puzzled by his request. Satoru bit his lip in anticipation, suppressing a groan as he glided the wet candy across your slit, coating it in your slick. You sighed at the coolness of the lollipop rubbing across your folds, still sensitive from your previous orgasms and sending shivers throughout your body. "God, look at that," he grunted in awe, so much of your arousal creaming the candy.
He tapped the lollipop lightly against your abused clit, rubbing it and pulling moans out of you. "'Toru, what're you doing?" you panted in a daze, getting frustrated as to why he hadn't plunged his cock into your cunt yet. "Shh, lemme just..." Satoru murmured, sliding the candy down to your heat, pushing it in with ease and pumping it in and out of you.
You gasped, your toes curled, the lollipop massaging your walls and abusing that sweet spot that made you see stars, already feeling the coiling tension of your orgasm forming.
"'Toru! Stop! I'm so close," you whimpered, your pussy clenching around the hard candy. "wanna cum on your cock, please, let me cum on your cock..." you sobbed, your pleading words making Satoru halt his movements, pulling the lollipop out of you.
Satoru sighed. He would've liked making you squirt with the candy, but how could he deny you when you sounded so cute, pleading to cum on his dick? "Fine, whatever my girl wants," he says, positioning himself between your legs. "Hold this for me, love," he pushes the lollipop past your lips, the taste of your essence blended with the strawberry and cream-flavoured lollipop setting on your tongue. You moan at the taste, your cunt pulsing and aching to be stuffed by Satoru's girthy cock.
Satoru aligns his shaft to your needy cunt, grazing your folds with his tip before sinking down inside with ease. Satoru moans as he pushes in, your wet walls already clenching around him tightly—as if afraid to lose him.
"F-fuck," you sputter, your insides feeling so full of him and throbbing around his cock. Satoru places each of your legs on his shoulder, your feet dangling in the air and takes the candy out of your mouth. "I'm taking this out. Don't want you to choke on it, doll," he says, putting it in his mouth instead before starting to thrust into you.
The smell of sex and strawberry syrup lingered in the air, and the squelching sounds of your pussy were louder than Satoru's huffs and pants. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, damping his snow-like hair and sticking his bangs to his forehead. Fuck, you were squeezing him so tight, your tight walls sucking him so good as he pounded in you. 
"Shit, baby, you feel so good," he groaned, one thumb circling your clit to get you closer to the edge. "This pretty pussy is so good f'me. So fucking amazing, taking me in like a champ," he hissed, rutting deep into you.
Satoru angled your hips, his cock reaching deeper inside your cunt, his head fucking straight on your sweet spot, drawing loud moans out of you--your hands clenching onto fists and gripping the sheets underneath you tightly. "F-fuck!" You cried out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as your walls spasmed around his cock, gushing his abdomen and thighs as the waves of pleasure overtook you.
"That's it, baby, good girl," he huffed, his thrusts sloppier as he got closer to his peak. "Where do you want it? Where do you want my cum?" he said, his balls tightening and slapping against your ass.
"Inside, I want it inside," you purred, drool running down the side of your mouth, too fucked out to care where he'd shoot his load honestly.
Satoru bit his lip, suppressing the small whimpers coming out, announcing his soon orgasm. "Want me to stuff your cunt full of my cum, love?" he panted, his tongue lolling out—letting the lollipop drop on the side of the bed. "Yeah, I want it, I want it so bad. Please, fill me up with your load—I needed it," you babbled cockdrunk between breathy moans.
"Fuuuck, take it, take it," He groaned, emptying himself with his warm load inside you in shattered breaths. He pulled out, thick white translucent ropes of his cum seeping out of your cunt, soiling the bedsheets.
His chest heaving, Satoru peppered you with kisses, whispering sweet nothing to you. "Let me catch my breath and we'll take a nice bath together, okay? You must be all sticky from the syrup and the candy on you."
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doomsdaybby · 1 month
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“You good down there, pretty girl?” Steve coos sweetly, a buttery candied tone that disputes the brutal snap of his hips, large hands enveloping your wrists crossed over your chest. His weight is heavy on your ribs, skin squeezing red raw and the threat of future bruising already blooming under his crushing fingers.
Your head is tipped back at the edge of his bed, and Steve’s throbbing cock is stuffed so far down your throat that any answer you could possibly give is just another pathetic wet whimper, spluttering around his length to choke out obscene reams of sticky saliva. He knows that, revels in the fact, threatening to burst his bottom lip that is latched between his top row of pearly whites.
“Fuucckk” he drawls crudely, a feral sort of sound that has your neglected clit throbbing in perfect torturous synchronism with his unforgiving thrusts.
“You love taking me like this, don’t you?” he laughs, one sinister and somewhat cruel, and you’re squeezing your thighs together and rutting where you need him the most against nothing. It’s almost too much to bear, glassy eyes rolling to the back of your head as your brain swims with that familiar staticky warmth.
“Look at that pretty little throat” Steve cups your wrists with one hand now, ensuring to keep you planted exactly where he needs you. The other encircles your spent neck, right over the lewd bulge that his girth stretches and stretches and stretches some more. You don’t get to breathe until his say so, not when he’s wallowing in such intoxicating euphoria.
“Stretched so fucking wide for me. So fucking good” you can hear the grit of his teeth, picturing the protruding veins in his neck throbbing with hot blood, and the blissful strain painting his beautiful features.
Poor Steve had been wound so tight these past couple days. Working overtime and double shifts, both passing ships in the night with barely any opportunity to give the other a kiss on the forehead, let alone be intimate.
“Missed you. Missed this” he groans with a ragged breath, a particular sharp roll of his hips has your stomach retracting in a dramatic gag. Hair stuck to the beads of sweat stippling his forehead, mouth taking form of a sweet little ‘o’ when you attempted to swallow around him, a completely involuntary action that has you thrashing your legs.
“Hang on, honey. I’m so fucking close, gonna cum. You ready? Take it all f’me, angel. Show me how good you are”.
You couldn’t even register the flood of Steve’s release, bleary eyes streaming white hot tears that coated Steve’s bedroom carpet beneath you. Your hair was mussed, the majority tangled in spit strings as if you had been caught in a thunderstorm.
“Atta girl, atta fucking. girl.” Another brutal slam of him hips, heavy balls cutting off any chance of air supply through your nose as Steve buries himself into you, vision sparkling with black spots and the blood rushing ruthlessly to your head.
Steve released your hands then and you had to push the man away from you by the thighs before you passed out, his cock still connected to your puffy lips with frothy buntings of drool.
Steve’s hand is pushing back your hair once you’re on all fours, coughing hoarsely and throat ripped to complete shreds. Though you lent into the touch, the gentle scrape of his nails at your scalp, down your reddened cheeks to cup your chin, titling your watery gaze up to his own.
“Such a good job, my angel. Now let me take care of you”.
————
just a little something bc i’m feral feral feral for my steve rn 😩🤭
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donatellawritings · 27 days
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you should totally do boxer!rafe with shy!reader.
love you stinka 😘
love you more <3
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you were as shy as they came, your palms hummed with nerves as they glazed over with clammy sweat, eye contact made your tummy swirl with anxious butterflies, and your chewed on your bottom lip or the smooth gummy inside of your cheeks, more often than not. so, it was pretty routine for people’s eyes to widen in obnoxious shock when you decided to take up being a ring girl — it was fast money that paid your bills and would get you through finishing college. although, you weren’t all too familiar with the sport of boxing, you figured that at least the cute outfits, no matter how skimpy they were, and the caked on makeup and bombshell hair could help you get out of your introverted shell.
you couldn’t help but blush, each time you strutted your tight little ass into the ring, your perked up ears not missing the inappropriate hoots and whistles that came your way. your plump lips swelled into a beaming smile as made your way around the ring, you tiny hot pants wedged between your soft ass cheeks and swollen tits pushed up in your skintight crop top, your pedicured feet slightly aching in your elongating shiny black pumps. before returning back to your ringside seat, your doe eyes flickered over to rafe cameron, the up and coming boxer from kildare island who seemed to have each and every girl wrapped around his bruised fingers.
you licked over your swollen lips as he sent you a wink, the blood that dripped from his gashed eye rolling down his structured cheekbone as he smirked at you. you couldn’t ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your oiled and shiny thighs as he flexed his broad shoulders, before sinking his sharp teeth down into his dark red mouth guard.
“damn girl, y’look good!” a spectator whistled, breaking you from your trance as you exited the ring, prancing over to your cushioned folding chair, flipping your shiny tousled hair over your shoulder.
boxing had never been your thing, but you had to admit that there was payoff when it came to the eye candy you were subjected to watch, day in and day out. however, there was an unspoken rule that came with your job: do not date any of the fighters — it would make things muddy and far too complicated. i mean, what good could come from adrenaline-filled men who fucked as many girls as they won championships?
so, you took rafe’s lustful gaze with a grain of salt — you wouldn’t subject yourself from having to deal with the inevitable heartbreak that would come from having intimate dealings with a man, like rafe cameron.
pulling up the hem of your uncomfortably clingy top, you let out a small huff and you mushed your sticky, gloss-coated lips together. you loved your job, it gave you an escape, an in to be the girl who wasn’t pathetically timid and shy, to the point where you were flustered when holding even the most basic of conversations. yet, you still found yourself a bit secluded from your coworkers, and it wasn’t because you didn’t want to make friends — your coy nature and sheltered upbringing just made it that much harder for you.
taking a small breath, your swollen tits expanded against the fabric of your top as you took in the sound of rafe’s gloved fists cracking into the face of his pathetic opponent. you quickly got lost in the roaring crowd as rafe sent a blood-curdling punch across his weakened counterpart’s jaw, sending the ill-fated man to the floor as rafe cockily flexed his muscles, sticking out his blood-coated tongue as his bright pink lips stretched into a cocky grin.
𝜗ৎ
rafe loved the spotlight, he craved it — to hear people scream and clamor for him was such an aphrodisiac for him. you see, he was no stranger to being fawned over, he’d developed quite the reputation for being a hit-it-and-quit-it type of guy, a one-time lover that you could never seem to forget, or want to forget. but, he too, had his demons. rafe was hopelessly tethered to violence — it was the only fix that truly allowed him to express himself, in a way that thoroughly satisfied him and curbed his anger. i mean, shit, the young man fought so much, he figured he’d might as well get paid for it, not that he needed it, being the heir to his father’s hefty trust fund.
now dressed in light fresh sweats that loosely hung off of his hips, rafe watched with hooded eyes as the ring girls made their way through the dimmed halls — he’d fucked majority, if not, all of the girls, but you, you were new and fresh as a daisy— this was only your second fight. he could smell how nervous you were, a little shaky thing, but oh so fuckin’ pretty.
you just needed a little … conditioning. but, that was okay, rafe could help with that, no problem.
“hiii, rafe,” the cluster of girls sang, each of their enhanced lips spreading into ditzy smiles as rafe entered their line of vision. licking over his lips, rafe nodded in return, before flicking his fingers towards one of the girls.
leaning his head down, rafe sighs with feigned interest in the bottle blonde who stood cheerily before him, “y’wanna help me out, doll?” rafe smiled, watching as the blonde furiously nodded, before he could finish his sentence, “y’so sweet — uh, tell me, where’s that pretty spanish girl who works with you, huh? the real quiet one?” he questions softly, his eyes low as the blonde swallows down her jealousy, before taking a quick breath. rafe could smell the envy that loomed over the blonde — she was a quick fuck from about three months ago, who just couldn’t seem to take the hint.
“um, sh-she shouldn’t be that far behind — is there anything else i can do for you?” the girl answers swiftly, her bright eyes wide with hope as rafe’s eyes fall on you.
softly nudging the blonde’s chin, rafe maintains his million-dollar smile, “nah, thank you though, sweetheart,” rafe declines, his bruised and sprained knuckles stretching against his skin as he makes his way over to you.
a pretty little thing, like you, should never walk with her head down.
breathing out a sharp whistle, rafe can’t help but breathe out a laugh as you flinch, your doe eyes wide as you finally make direct eye contact with the tall man. you were way shorter than him, and he couldn’t help but steal a shameless glance at your deliciously pushed-up tits. rafe’s strained blue eyes didn’t miss the way your wiped the palms of your hands against the skimpy fabric of your tiny black shorts.
“y’don’t need to be scared of me, princess — just wanna properly introduce myself, yeah?” rafe coos, cocking his head to the side with parted lips as your throat bobs with a light swallow, before your dolled-up hair bounces with a subtle nod. “ah, gonna have to break you out of that little shell of yours, yeah?” he comments, gently nudging your chin as your swollen lips part with blushed cheeks.
with a low and mousey tone, you allow your name to roll off of the tongue, your eager bambi eyes set on rafe’s bloodshot blues, “i just, i am not used to putting myself out there,” you force out a laugh, your skin-hugging attire suddenly becoming too tight for your comfort as you find yourself fiddling with the hem of your ridiculously cropped top.
with a tilted head, rafe drinks in every part of you. from your introverted nature and nervous quirks, to the slight sing of an accent that coats your every word.
he couldn’t ignore the way his blood rushed to his cock as you crumbled under his unwavering eye contact, you were new territory for him and he needed to experience you in your entirety.
leaning in a bit closer to you, rafe allows his soft lips to ghost over yours, “want you to stick with me, princess — gonna have to show you how the world works,” he decides, lightly nudging your jaw, before pulling away from you and making his way back to his locker room.
you were left a blushing and slightly embarrassed mess as you found yourself mindlessly following rafe’s path — each and every one of your inhibitions dissipating with each step you pump-clad feet took.
little did you know just how underprepared you were for rafe cameron’s world.
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chrissshub · 5 months
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HE LICK ME LIKE A LOLLIPOP!
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who knew a piece of candy and date night at home could get you so…
pairings: wife!fem!reader x toji fushiguro
cw: sex mention, teasing, cunn!lingus, pet names, dubcon(?)
wc: 1.79k
words from chris: my first fic in forever! hope you enjoy and while you do, I'm gonna make baked oats :P
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Guilty…oh it’s so guilty but you can’t help it.
It’s your favorite movie on the living room television but you really can’t help it.
There, in the corner of your eye is a scene so innocent but a sight so sinful of Toji eating a lollipop. He’s so mindless with it, it’s almost so cute. But what wrings that adorable sense of joy into a dry, thirsty reality is the way his lips lock around the pink bulb, focusing all his attention down to a point.
Or maybe it’s the way your ear tunes into the delightful hums he sings whenever his mouth fills with the sweet confections, all to be washed away by a single ‘gulp’.
Your thighs have never been folded so tightly and your hands have never braced the black decorative pillow until tonight—a movie night at home, per Toji’s suggestion.
How could he sit there, a man such as he be—
“Um…Toji, I thought you didn’t like sugary candy?”
Before paying you a glance, he pried the pink lollipop from his jaw, leaving nothing but the glimmering wisps of spit to drip from his lips.
“I grabbed it from the bank today and forgot it was in my pocket. Used to love them when I was younger. Why…you want some?”
“No, I don’t think sharing lollipops are—”
“Aww, why not? You can just pretend it’s my d—”
“Okay! T-Thank you, Toji. I’ll have a taste then,” you sigh, leaning towards his beckoning side.
His chiseled arm laced around your shoulder, his hand bracing along its curve. The tips of his fingers softly traced along your pried jaw. His own sights bounced between the unfolding scene of your big, fluttering doe eyes calling out to meet his gaze and the sinking of the sweetened orb finally resting along the flat of your tongue.
A wicked grin cracked along Toji’s lips, hiding his pleased whims against the curve of your ear.
“That’s my good girl. You look so pretty using your tongue fr’ me.”
“Toji!” The squealing shout bringing his grin to a full-hearted smile. Toji could simply react, his arms encircling you in an embrace and his cheek smothered against your own.
“Oh I’m sorry Princess, just got a flashback in my head. I’ll behave like I promised.”
Shamefully, you nodded to his words as you gave into his warmth.
“Mm…my turn!” Toji chimed as he pinched the lollipop stick between two fingers.
Your eyes watched as he tugged the candy from your lips and back into his own, the tip of his tongue swirling about the polished sweet.
Seconds turned into minutes and those very minutes turned into the passing scenes of the movie on the screen. Toji earned your attention far quicker than the film, a fact that he could no longer ignore.
“Alright, you’ve been watching me more than the movie—and it’s your favorite…what’s up, Dollface?” Toji finally interjected. Toji’s full attention was placed onto you, that damned lollipop standing within his thick digits.
“I…don’t know…what to say…I just…want some,” you mumbled dumbly as you stared at the glimmering lollipop in the dimmed light.
“If you wanted some more, you could’ve asked. Here—”
You caught Toji’s wrist as he drove the lollipop to your lips, the sticky bulb pecking your lips.
“Oh, I don’t want that right now. I just…since when did you eat candy like that?”
The arch in his brow spoke more for Toji than what his fumbling words could. He returned the lollipop back into the wrapper sitting on the glass coffee table, folding what’s left between the colorful wax paper. With his attention clear, Toji brought his full visage to you with a newly placed smirk. 
“Huh? I’m just…I see what’s goin’ on here.”
“Hm? What’s going on—”
Before you could even finish your words, Toji was already ways ahead of you. With just a blink of an eye, he had your back pressed and arching against the arm of his couch and your chest smothered along the thick hull of his own.
It was one thing to be beneath Toji at his own whim, but bearing the heft of the accompanying stare was nothing short of stupefying. It comes without a call for regard, yet you can’t help but forfeit your attention to him and him alone.
 All his fascinations about you—the wants and desires crowd about the darkening blue hues of his eyes and consume his whole being. He’s even eager enough to close the distance that much more, pitting the very thumps of his heart to fade along your enveloped chest. 
All that stains the thick air is the staggering breaths plugging the lungs of you and Toji alike, growing until his confidence reaches its peak to finally speak. 
“You don’t have a problem with me eating this candy—hell, you don’t even care about any of that. You’ve got that look in your eye that I love.”
“And what look might that be?”
And of course, you didn’t need Toji to tell you—you already knew. It’s that look when stubbornness and determination form the thinnest of silver lines, careful not to cross each other’s boundaries. When your eyes peer up to meet his own, your pupils grow to encapsulate to contain all that tension down to a single point. 
The look of desire. 
And of course Toji knows that look all too well—he fell for it the very night you met and put a ring on your finger under a year later. It’s because the second you pass those eyes his way, he can’t help but give in to you. 
“The look of you wanting something. Y’know what I like to say—Whatever my pretty girl wants, she gets. So…what do you want, Y/N?”
The weathered palm of his hands brace at your waist, the pads rubbing at the supple skin as he makes a path to slot himself between your thighs. 
Toji’s glare flickered, the tips of his fingers drifting along the rim of your white t-shirt.
“Hm? You know I hate mumbling, Sweetheart. But I think I heard you want some attention, right"
“That’s not what I said.”
Toji shot a stifling glare back towards you, “So then what did you say?”
A silence fell over you as you searched for the unnecessary words. Nothing more had to be said at this point, except for the couch’s springs aching out as it bared the shifting weight of your lifted hips for Toji’s subtle tug at your intertwined pair of black shorts and blush pink panties. Your eyes followed his movements, the slow pull of clothing down your legs and to being tossed out into the dark oblivion of the living room. 
Toji’s cheek sank along your thigh as he waited for a response, his hands taking hold of the plush to trap you in his hold.
“Exactly, you don’t need to say or think of anything, Princess. Just let me take care of you, ‘kay?”
With a languid nod, you bit at your bottom lip as your body melted at Toji's touch.
The soft curve of Toji’s pout is the gentlest of sensations to pool at your navel and pull the mellowest of gasps from your lips. Just a kiss, a luscious one that’s carefully met by the timid bud of your clit. 
But he’s only this kind with you for a single minute. And in that single minute, he’s peppering those sweet kisses everywhere as nothing as a courtesy—an introduction, really.
However, the moment sixty seconds pass, his courteous nature sheds away. 
Why, once Toji makes the mistake of absorbing  the poor, pink bulb between his lips…he’s a man lost to lust. He can’t help but to induce a suckling tug along your clit, relishing the swelling throbs to strum within his mouth. Just to spite you, Toji lets the bundle of nerves greet the frigid air for a second as he takes a moment to observe the mess he’s made of you.
The tips of his fingers wander from the crease of your thigh to graze at the sopping slit of your pussy, begging for attention.
“Mm, n-no hands, Toji. Just keep doin' that, please?” You broke out carefully with a hitching breath. 
He shot you a glare, a particular one at that—a leering gaze, one riddle with spite. 
“I gotcha, no hands tonight.”
His words didn’t settle the worry brewing at your core. He’s agreed but knowing Toji, your terms would work out in his favor. 
Yet, your thoughts ran dry the moment Toji pressed his cheek back along your inner thigh. Just by the swirl of his tongue, he’s pulled you back down into ecstasy with a breathy moan. 
His tongue’s been waiting all the same to taste you, making no haste to delve between your folds at last. As eager as Toji is, he’s sure to catch every drop of your essence, allowing your honeyed pussy to meld into his senses.
When he’s ready to start all over, he lets his jaw come to a slow close as he drags the flat of his tongue from your hole back up to the puffy hood. He’s even keeping his eyes glued above, ensuring that you’re watching just how lazily he reels your twitching clit back into his care.
“Fuck…I wanna touch you s’ bad,” Toji whimpers out as he pulls away for a breath. The pads of his thumb drag along the puffy lips of your pussy, his touching lingering just beside the glossy bulb. “But if my lady says no hands…”
“N-No, you can use your hands now, Toji…please,” you whine, flashing a weak yet coaxing smile towards him. 
Yet, your pleas fall on deaf ears as Toji returns to his ministrations. He really had no intention of touching you—just like you instructed. It didn’t help that his eyes remained pinned with yours, those blue hues mocking your growing misery. But you truly couldn’t take it, that knot in your belly reaching desperate heights.
In the corner of his eye, Toji’s catching the rarest of phenomenons: your legs trembling in his care. It’s something he knows you try to control out of some temperance, but tonight must be his lucky night.
“If you keep moving like that, I can’t focus on you, Pretty,” he hums, pulling away from your folds with a lewd ‘pop’. 
“Then I guess you’ll have to touch me, right?” 
“But it’s more fun if I don’t. I mean, this is what you wanted. Got all jealous ‘nd needy over a piece of candy and now you can’t take it…tsk-tsk-tsk, that’s not like you, Baby,” his words marked with a greedy grin. 
All that could chime from your blubbering lips were whimpers, the ones that made Toji smile the most. Your hands came to brace the fabric of the couch’s armrest as Toji drove back between your legs, his grip on your thighs stilling your restlessness. 
And that’s all Toji did, just lick you like a lollipop. 
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violetrainbow412-blog · 4 months
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hii, I wish to request a Willy Wonka x reader 😭🙏 where reader doesn’t like chocolate at all because it’s too cloying, so Wonka tries to make the right candy (or chocolate) to give it to the reader at Christmas Eve (he wanted to gave reader a small gift before Christmas day, like a form of confessing his feelings to the reader). And reader also prepares a small gift to Wonka bc they also want to confess their feelings to him
Reader can be gender neutral, or however you want
English isn’t my first language so sorry any grammar mistakes, also sorry if I didn’t explain myself well
have a good day and thanks for reading 😭🫶💐
The Bittersweet Gift of Love [W. W]
Willy Wonka x gn!reader
word count: 1.8k
note: don't worry! English is not my first language either. I have to admit that writing with neutral readers is always a challenge for me because I translate my texts directly, but I think this time it's a decent thing. I hope you like it!!
taglist: @dyieying @reallysparklychaos [Timothée masterlist]
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What could a chocolatier give to a person who didn't like chocolate? That was the question Willy had been asking himself for the past few weeks.
You hadn't specifically said that you didn't like chocolate, rather it was a matter of not liking the excessively sweet or sticky taste that some had. That is, most of the chocolates he made.
“Maybe it's just that you haven't found the right flavor,” he had told you once, while the two of you were talking.
And he was quite convinced of that, even thinking that if he managed to make something special for you maybe he would earn some affection from you. It would be as if he gave you a certain part of himself, so that you could make it yours.
So it was that Wonka, after reflecting a lot, decided to try all kinds of combinations until he found one good enough to satisfy you. Christmas was approaching and he believed that the occasion would be perfect not only to give you the present, but also to take an important step for which he had not yet had the courage: he wanted to confess his feelings for you.
The man didn't know much about love, however, he knew that he liked you a lot and he wanted you to know it. It was just that he was pretty nervous about it and he hoped everything would turn out as perfect as possible, after all, you deserved it.
Christmas Eve came when he was least expecting it and then it was time to dress in shades of green and red to attend the party that the Smith family would throw, as a thank-you to everyone after Dorothy had heard what the entire group did for help Noodle when she needed it most.
Willy put a lot of effort into buying, with some of the few coins he had left, a cute outfit appropriate to the occasion that he combined with his characteristic coat. When he was in front of the library door he felt the little purple box in his hands extremely heavy and he thought it would be a better idea to put it in his pocket, or else you would realize ahead of time the surprise he had for you.
“Mr. Wonka,” Dorothy greeted, as she opened the door “Come in, come in. It's freezing outside”
“Good night, Mrs. Smith,” he murmured cordially, removing his hat and placing it on a rack in the entryway. Apparently he was the last to arrive, since everyone else was already talking happily in the room.
Of course his eyes went directly to you, who was wearing a green sweater that highlighted your beautiful skin tone and you already had a huge smile on your pink lips from the cold.
“It's good to see you, Mr. Wonka,” said Abacus, being the first to speak “Sit over here.”
He smiled internally at the good fortune that the place the man had left him was right next to you and when you gave him a look, he felt himself blush.
“Hi,” he murmured shyly.
"Hello! I'm so glad you could come."
“I would never miss it,” he responded smilingly. His knees collided with yours and suddenly your warmth seemed to invade him as well, perhaps because of the closeness, but also because of the overflowing love he felt for you “How are you?”
With this question you began a pleasant and private conversation, which developed between close whispers and giggles that made him increasingly nervous. The others didn't mind too much that you didn't participate in the general talks, as they knew that certain unresolved matters probably needed time.
You ate the delicious dinner that the family had prepared, you drank punch, you sang some Christmas carols and when the night had advanced enough you returned to your previous place, although now with fewer people around.
“This is so nice, I love Christmas. The atmosphere is always so homely and warm” you said, with your eyes resting on the simple tree that adorned the room.
It was almost midnight and the others were in the kitchen sorting through some of the cookies that Noodle had put there an hour ago, which only left you and the chocolatier in the living room.
“I guess I believe you, your eyes are literally shining now,” he said happily. He felt like sliding his hand into yours and this time, steeling himself, he didn't hold back. You flinched slightly when you felt that.
“What are you doing?”
“I have something for you,” he breathed, feeling strangely excited by what he was about to do “It's a gift.”
“Oh, Willy,” you responded, a bit incredulously, as you bent down to grab something from your bag on the floor. “I have something for you, too.”
He chuckled when he saw the box lined with bright red and a purple bow decorating it, since it was a pleasant coincidence that you had also prepared something for him.
“But don't tell anyone, because he didn't bring gifts for the others,” you added, quietly, and then he helped you up, still holding onto your hand.
"Come with me"
He led you to an empty room and he closed the door behind you, hoping he only needed enough minutes to not raise suspicions among the rest of the guests. You were nervously holding the gift, with both hands now that he had let go of you.
“Okay, listen. I wanted to do something special for you today,” he began to explain, as he pulled the box out of his pocket. “And I also added, uh… a note. You don't have to read it now or anything, but it says something in it that I want you to know."
“You're starting to scare me,” you stammered, obviously nervous. Willy was going to ask what you meant until he saw you take a small envelope out of your pocket, which you placed on the red paper. “Because I have the same thing for you.”
He stumbled a little at the second coincidence of the night and he wondered what your note could be about. He knew that he had written a little poem confessing how he felt about you, but... what if you were just wishing him a Merry Christmas? He was going to look like a complete fool.
“You can read mine in a more… private place if you feel comfortable. Maybe alone,” he suggested, though he knew it was more for his comfort than yours.
“Huh, how about we just open the gifts and leave the notes for later? I wouldn't want you to read mine now either” you murmured, just as shy as him.
Willy agreed and you extended your gift in his direction, hinting that he would be the first to open. He undid the bow, carefully, and then opened the box, revealing a beautiful scarf.
“Wow, I…”
"Do you like it? I made it myself”
“I don't believe you,” he said immediately, looking even more surprised. “It's beautiful, I really love it. Thank you so much"
He wasted no time and placed the garment around his neck. Curiously, it matched the rest of his outfit.
"It looks pretty"
“Mine is also a gift made by me. Feel free to tell me if you don’t like it, I… I’ll understand, okay?” you looked a little confused at that and then he took out the piece of chocolate, carefully placed inside the box “I know you don't like chocolate, but I don't think anyone should live without consuming such a great delicacy. So I made you this, because it doesn't have those things that you don't like. It's... different, but I hope you like it”
With some shyness he offered you the sweet and you put it in your mouth, under his watchful eye during the process. You tasted what he had offered you: it was a little bitter, but not in that way that makes your head hurt or leaves a bad taste on your palate, but with just the right touch. It was firm and didn't melt in your mouth, but decent enough to chew on. And finally, it had a touch of something indecipherable to you, but that gave it a certain exotic flavor that was pleasant to your senses.
He, without knowing everything you were experiencing, kept looking at you because he wanted to analyze your reaction to know what you really thought, and luckily your reaction showed agreement with what your chocolate lips said:
“It is the best chocolate I have ever tasted”
Willy felt that like the greatest compliment in the world and he couldn't help a smile crossing his face, satisfied with himself for having achieved his goal, but above all for seeing the happy expression on your face.
“You will never have to eat chocolates you don't like again, I have a jar full of these just for you. They will even bear your name."
It was inevitable not to take a step towards him to hug him and the boy, although at first he seemed surprised, soon responded to you.
“No one had ever done anything like this for me. I appreciate it a lot"
“Well, it's my Christmas gift. I wanted it to be something special,” he confessed, feeling his heart beating in time with yours “Merry Christmas, Y/N”
“Merry Christmas, Willy,” you said. The note in his hand felt extremely heavy and he was eager to read it, but he knew he would have to wait a while.
Suddenly you heard Noodle calling your names and you got out of there before anyone else noticed your absence, which worked because the girl was walking around the hallway when you were closing the door.
“It's going to be midnight, come here,” she said and you obeyed.
Dorothy revealed that she had a small present for each person and you began to look under the tree, eager to find out what would be in those little boxes. It wasn't something very ostentatious, but you were grateful anyway.
So, when no one was looking, you ran to the bathroom to finally read whatever he had written to you, hoping it wasn't as embarrassing as the confession you had made. You were stunned to learn the content and for a moment you feared you were dreaming, but you weren't.
When you left you knew well what your intentions were and your heart stopped for a moment when you noticed that Willy was nowhere to be seen, until Lottie told you that she had seen him heading to the kitchen. You rushed over and when you opened the door you noticed that he was about to do the same, with a bright expression on his face.
A second later he had already pulled you inside and without saying another word, he kissed you.
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tired-biscuit · 3 months
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oh gosh, thinking about going on an awkward first date with yuuji!
you go to the fair and he’s trying so hard to win you a prize but the game is complex and definitely rigged, so he ends up losing four times in a row. he gets embarrassed and pissed about it; with his cheeks a vibrant red, he literally almost gets in a small argument with the dude that’s working the stand because if he can’t win it, he’ll at least try to buy the teddy he’s been eyeing to get for you!
watching how defeated he looks when the man tells him his final no, you rub your hand over his broad back as you tell him that it’s okay, that you’re positive he’ll win the next game he plays at a different stand. resting your palm right between his shoulder blades and fiddling slightly with his colourful hoodie, your fingers are eager to touch him even with the barrier of thick cotton in-between.
it makes him perk up in an instant and all of a sudden the tips of his ears turn bright red as well. he nods but he stumbles a bit on his own two feet as he follows after you, obedient like a small puppy on a leash.
he looks like he’ll pass out from how much blood is suddenly rushing into his head by the time you offer to share your cotton candy with him and press a rather sticky — and sugary — kiss to his too-warm cheek.
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darkmajesty-xo · 1 year
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18+ | MDNI TW! monsterfucking, male masturbation , vampire!shoto
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it’s definitely starting now—the aches and pains.
he tosses and turns in his bed. gasping for air and rutting against his pillow.
it’s all because of you.
so sweet.
his brain won’t stop. no matter how thick, the walls of his mind always end shattered at the simplest thought of you.
so sweet.
clawed hands clutch the base of his cock. he can’t help himself. it’s a debauched action and he’s grossly ashamed. having always considered himself a pious man but who could resist the temptation of the divine nectar coursing through your veins and the sticky essence that would spill from your thighs.
sweet.
he groans into his pillow. balls clutched in one fist and pumping his shaft with the other. his thumb swipes and spreads the pre spilling from his slit and he shudders. would you do that ? would you lap at his cock like a cute kitten begging for a tasty treat ? or would you be insatiable? ravishing him. milking him dry to the verge of overstimulation.
his ministrations grow desperate and sloppy. he’d sacrifice his soul again to rest his head between your thighs. to sink his teeth into the supple flesh while his fingers spell his name on your clit. ohh— to taste you, to mark you, to claim you.
it was close now. he could feel his orgasm bubbling below. your tantalizing scent filled his nostrils drawing choked breathes and moans from the panting man.
so sweet.
a roar of pleasure rumbles from his chest. the memory of your saccharine aroma tipping the scales of lust, leading to his climax. the keen sound of fabric ripping clashes with the lewd squelch of his fist.
he looks down at the ruined pile of fluff, freshly iced with a sticky layer of cum. he feels no regret. he may be immortal but he’s still a man. the only negative feeling that bullies through his cloud of ecstasy is thirst.
he yearns for you—his beautiful, foolish, new servant. who offered herself to him as repayment for defending her life and virtue. if only you knew what he truly was, what he was capable of and how desperate he was to consume you.
you probably taste sweet like candy.
@chaichaiiskai i was in a monster fucking mood and for some reason i think you would be too.
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cherieiu · 14 days
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; SAY YES TO ME,
sypn. whether he likes it or not, insecurity chased him — you're too much for him, too loving, too caring — he doesn't (does) deserve you. pairing. aventurine x gn!reader notepad. super super short omg i tried my best D:, its vv icky and kinda ooc, for @toorurs (EWW THE BIGGEST ICK OUT THERE VIOLENTLY THROWS UP MAJOR ICKKK) this is so icky ick i'll write more aven as an apology!! reblogs are super duper appreciated!!!
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they say, 'to be loved is to be changed', yet the mellow bitterness rests still in his heart, immotile and repulsive. the warm feeling you induce in him nauseates him. your honeyed voice sings him sweet nothings, your fingertips lovingly worship his skin — he doesn't deserve this heaven, he doesn't deserve you. he only taints with every fleeting touch, his opalescent gaze alone filthies you. aventurine sickens himself, you're forced to carry the burden of him (undeserving and of little worth) on your shoulders.
"isn't it tiring?" his voice is hushed, vulnerability seeping through every word. the hem of his shirt is tightly crumpled between the crevices of his hand, the sweet taste of insecurity melted onto his tongue. his shoulder tense with tangible anxiety— a dangerous gamble he's willing to lay his heart vulnerable for.
"aren't i tiring?"
the dim iridescent moonlight blankets your frame and his - you look ethereal, he swallows the words down.
"no! of course not," how the words slip past your candied lips with such ease. the scent of lilac gloss lays heavily in the air and on his lips — the sticky kisses that smear onto his skin, the constant reminder of you.
"you're not lying, are you?" uncertainty laces his voice, "do you promise?"
you nod, pressing candy-like kisses on his pillowy lips with a determination to convince him. "you'd be able to tell if i was," you breathe out, blonde strands tickling your nose.
"it's hard to tell when it's you," his voice painfully aches of longing, for your comfort — the cup he held never overflowed — , satiates his thirst for repeated words with lost meanings. "it's like i can't see through you- just makes it hard to tell," (as if you're a clouded mirror, only with his warmth can he see past the fog) the confession slips past his lips, silently hanging in the air.
you glance up at him with curiousity, "is it? then, can you tell if i love you?"
his breath tenses - do you truly love him? the line between truth and lie blurs, he can't discern the two; if he were a shameless man with nothing left to give, he allows the words to swallow him. with so little left, it wouldn't hurt, would it? — regardless of truth or lie, he's a starved man who'll indulge in this.
"yes, you do," serenity's a sea, it never stills yet he only wishes for this moment to last — may it be a memory he'll run back to in his dreams.
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cherieiu 2024 © plagiarism, use of ai, reposting and translation is not permitted.
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libraryofloveletters · 2 months
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Helping Hands
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Ruben Dias x Fem!Reader
Warnings: ruben and reader have a kid! (he's 5), boy dad!ruben, most of the man city squad is in this (kalvin too even tho he's not here anymore lol), mr pep makes an appearance, birthday surprises (yes I know ruben's birthday isn't until may lol), sweetness all around, reader and the guys have a good relationship, one big family vibes.
Word Count: 1.9k
Author's Note: is it really a big shock that this one is for @themandaloriansdiaries - I only ever write ruben when she asks lmaooo.
--
"Mama! Come on!" Chris, your son, tugged on your hand as you carried the bags.
Ruben's birthday was today and the two of you had gotten up to wish him happy birthday before he left, even making sure to make birthday pancakes - Chris's request, despite it being his father's birthday.
Your husband had gone in for training today and he wasn't aware that the two of you were coming with a special surprise for him. Once you're checked in at the front, Chris makes a beeline for the stairs, running up and straight to the office of none other than Pep.
You didn't get a chance to stop him before he opened the door, not bothering to knock as he knew he had Mr. Pep - his nickname for the man- wrapped around his finger.
"Chris!" The man smiled when he saw the little brown-haired boy running into his office. He picks him up, giving him a good squeeze before putting him down.
"Hi Mr. Pep! Do you have any candy?" The boy looks around, peeking into a bowl on the desk. "Check the drawer, kid." He retells him, walking over to hug you hello.
Chris had made himself comfortable in Pep's chair, munching on a Kit Kat while spinning around.
Pep's hand rests on your arm, smiling at you. "What brings you two in today?"
"Just setting up a few things for Ruben's birthday. Chris wanted to celebrate with him and the guys."
"Oh," Pep nods. "Do you need help? Do you want me to get some of the stuff to help you?"
"No no, that's okay. Don't disturb them, it's just hanging up a few balloons and a banner Chris made, we got it. Right buddy?"
Chris nods, giving you a thumbs up with sticky, chocolate covered fingers.
Pep laughs, walking over to wipe Chris's hands with a tissue. "Okay, let me know if you need anything."
You and Chris were off to the cafeteria, taking the long way around as you knew Ruben would be in the gym right now. Chris sits himself down by the window, looking out in the pitch as you unpack the stuff from the bags, passing the balloons to him to start blowing them up; it would keep him occupied for long enough that you could set up whatever else you needed too.
As you tried to unravel the banner Chris was making at home, you heard footsteps behind you and Chris got up, running over to whoever was over there. You turn to see John, balancing the cake in one hand and rubbing Chris's brown hair with the other hand.
"Hi uncle Johnny!" Chris smiled at the man, John smiled back at him. "Hi buddy, how are you?"
"Good! It's daddy's birthday today!"
John nods, "I know, I got the cake, see?" He bends down to show Chris the cake before taking it into the kitchen to put it in the fridge so it doesn't melt.
"Thank you for picking it up," you tell him when he comes back, Chris holding his hand and bringing him over to the table where he was sitting.
"Anytime."
"Help me blow up balloons, uncle Johnny!" Chris passes him a handful of balloons, sitting on his chair as he starts on his own.
Despite having to get to the gym, John sat with Chris and blew up all of the balloons. For every 6 balloons John blew up, Chris blew one. The boy passed the slobbered covered balloon to his uncle who happily tied it; even if he had to wipe his fingers off on his pants after each one.
Once they're done, John gets up. "I have to get to training, buddy. I'll be back at lunch time and I'll bring your dad with me, okay?"
"Okay!" Chris gave John a five high before turning his attention back to the balloons. You wave John off as you start to attempt to bundle the balloons together.
"Baby, why don't you finish up on your banner for daddy? The crayons are in the green bag over there." You nod towards the bag on the chair, Chris nods and walks over to get the crayons before sitting where you had spread out the banner.
You managed to get a few balloons bundled together before you started on the arch, your back was turned to the doorway and you hadn't heard anyone come in.
Kyle had seen Chris about to get up and signalled for him to stay sitting and to be quiet, pointing to you and motioning surprise with his hands. Chris got the just of it and nodded, his little hand covering his mouth to stop him from giggling.
The cold fingers pinch your shoulders, causing you to jump. "What the f- fudge!" You stopped mid swear, shouting before turning to see who it was. Both Kyle and Chris were giggling now, you smacked Kyle on the head with a balloon.
"You're so annoying, Kyle." Groaning, you turn your attention back to the balloon arch you were assembling. The man ignores your comment, making his way over to Chris at the table.
His arms on either side of Chris's chair as he stands behind him, his chin on the boy's head. "Whatcha working on, bud?"
"A banner for daddy! Look how cool my football is," he points towards the football he had drawn in the corner.
"That's really good, I couldn't even draw a circle." He laughed. "Who are these guys?" Kyle asks him, pointing out the few guys Chris had drawn around the ball.
"Well this one is Eddie," he points to the man by the net, wearing bright green. "This one is daddy, uncle Jack, uncle Johnny and this one is you, uncle walks." He points to the one on the left.
Kyle stifles a laugh. "Chris, why is my head so big?"
"Because mama said you have a big head." Chris shrugs, going back to working on his drawings.
The man looks over at you with a raised eyebrow, and you shrug just as Chris did. "It's true, now come be useful and hold this." You stuck the end of the arch out to Kyle, the man coming over to hold it as you filled in the extra balloons that needed to fit in.
He helps you get it up and over the window, along with the streamers before you thank him and climb down from the chair. When you turned around, you found more of the guys had come in as it was pretty close to lunch time.
Jack was sitting with Chris, the two of them chatting about some cartoon they both watch when Jack comes over while Kalvin helped to colour in the letters that Chris had traced.
Everything was coming together, all that needed to be done was put the banner up and get the cake out from the fridge. Erling had come in with Kevin and Kevin offered himself to get the cake as he knew Erling and Jack would probably start bickering about something as soon as he saw the taller man make a bee line for his friend.
Ederson and Stefan were the next two that came in. Erling and Stefan hung the banner up, Jack handing pieces of tape to Chris to stick on the banner. Ederson had Chris up on his shoulders so he could reach it and Rodri gave them thumbs up of approval, letting them know that the banner was hung straight.
Kevin sets the cake on the table, taking it out of the box while you search for the candles in the bag. "Oh crap, I forgot the candles at home."
"I think we have some from John and Kyle's birthday last week," Nathan tells you, walking over to the cabinet to search for them. He returns a moment later with a half pack of candles and a lighter.
Chris helps Nathan stick the candles into the cake; all 27 which is how old he was turning this year.
Everything was set, the rest of the players had come in and even pep had made his way down for the little celebration. All of you were by the window, waiting until you heard someone coming to light the candles.
The big banner above you read happy birthday daddy! in several different coloured crayons, all coloured in and out of the lines - depended on who coloured it.
You look at Chris, fixing his shirt as Ederson held him and you made sure he looked okay. You brushed away the cookie crumbs from earlier before looking around to make sure everyone was there. Jack, who was beside you, also had the same cookie crumbs on his shirt and you brushed those off too.
The sound of John's laughter came from the hallway, followed by the clicking of Bernardo's slides as he never wore them properly. That meant Ruben would be right behind them.
"What are you recording for?" You hear your husband's voice, one of his friend's had their phone out as they were coming in.
Bernardo and John push the double doors open, John stepping into the room to catch Ruben's reaction.
"Surprise!" Everyone shouts, the boys cheering, clapping and whistling for their friend.
Ruben stood there shocked, taking it all in. The handmade banner, streamers, balloons, the cake, all his teammates and most importantly, his wife and his son.
Ederson put Chris down, the little boy running to his dad who picks him up. "Do you like it?!" Chris practically shouts in his dad's ear. Ruben chuckles, nodding. "I love it, Chris. Thank you."
He gives him a hug, putting him down. "Do you like the banner? And the colours I picked?"
"You used all my favourites." He ruffles Chris's fluffy brown hair, identical to his own. Chris clapped, grinning at his father as he ran over to Jack. "Told you!" You hear Chris tell Jack, the two of them laughing.
You walk over to your husband, hugging him. "Surprise, baby."
Ruben kisses your head, "thank you, babe. You didn't have to do all this, you know."
"I know," you say. "I had some help." You nodded towards his teammates behind you.
Ruben leans down to kiss you, his hand on your jaw as he does. "Okay okay, break it up." Kevin calls for you two, "the candles are gonna melt."
You hold Ruben's hand, bringing him over to the table with the cake, Chris standing on the chair on the left to his dad and you're tucked under Ruben's arm on the right. All of his teammates on the other side of the table, John was still recording as Jack started the horribly off key rendition of happy birthday, which was being sung in at least 5 different languages at the moment.
Ruben pulls you and Chris with him, blowing out all 27 candles on the cake. "Happy birthday, babe." You kisses his cheek, Chris swiping some frosting and rubbing it on the other side of his dad's face.
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callsignvenomcod · 4 months
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a soft life
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Prompt: Retired! Simon Riley. A slow life in a Manchester farm.
warning: mentions of PTSD, mentions of cartel related violence, mentions of violence, MDNI.
PS: Opening line is from the book "Jarhead" (2001) by Anthony Swofford.
______________________________________________________________
A story.
A man fires a rifle for many years, and he goes to war. And afterwards he returns the rifle in at the armory, and he believes he's finished with the rifle. But no matter what else he might do with his hands, love a woman, build a house, change his son's diaper; his hands remember the rifle.
Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.
For a long time, it was hard to convince himself he deserved to grow old. It might have been a given fact to some other people but not for those in the military, not for Ghost, at least; not after Tommy and Beth, or Las Almas or Johnny. It took him a lot of time to be grateful to be almost 40. For several reasons, he never saw himself living past 20.
And now he was opening up the crates of the chickens he kept in his very own farm, a piece of land he actually owned, without a mask on, very far away from the bullet sounds and a barrack, from the mud and the camo, away from everything and everyone, not sound in the horizon but the chickens and Riley, the border collie dog he got, barking at a three somewhere in the distance.
He retired the summer he turned 40, there was a ceremony and everything, with Laswell and Price and he got more chest candy that would eventually end up in a wooden chest, never to be seen again, under the bed. There wasn't a reason, he just had to. He was in his prime, physically, but his mind was made of glass lately, everything rubbed him the wrong way, couldn't even train recruits without snapping too hard at them, making them quit, yell at them too much, scare them too much, beat them up to a pulp too much.
Every man in the military had a story. A life before, a life after. And in the middle, sand, or mud, or just camo. A war that last years, a mission that lasts hours. Silence and nosie.
He, like other recruits, like other Sergeants, Lieutenants, Colonels, had shadows over them. It took months for him to stop looking over his shoulder while doing the big shop on a sunday, started going to those overnight groceries store to shop alone instead. The butcher's reminded him both of his adolescence and the carnage he had caused, flinched whenever he saw a mohawk kid walking down the street, looked twice sometimes only to find a stranger.
Sometimes he could still hear the bullets, aye.
He turned in his paperwork and retired silently with lots of medals under his name, lots of dead men and probably women under his knife, missing friends, missing nerves and too scarred to be a model now. Ha.
Oh, and Y/N's wanted to get away at some point anyway.
Y/N. The last drink he never should have had, the cut that made him hide his face, and the party that made him feel his age. Pulp's words, not his. All it took was a few nights shopping at the Tesco she was working in as a cashier, late night shift, for them to become acquainted.
A year of mutual pinning, a single night in which Y/N placed the bourbon bottle and the batteries inside of the paper bag and looked up at Simon, change in hand (because he paid in cash always, no traces behind) and smiled at him. COVID had made it easier to transition from the skull balaclava to a medical mask and then to a bare face, so Simon looked at her behind the black medical mask and stared at her while she opened her mouth.
-Why do bees have sticky hair?
Simon blinked, looking down at her. -Pardon?
No line behind him. It was the first time the cashier talked to him other than "Goodnight" and "Drive safe", or "It will be 5.66, please". There was a faraway sound of some sort of 80's American pop music, something to pass time by. Simon had noticed her since the first time he came into this very same Tesco a few months ago, had noticed how she sang along whatever music was on, how her Tesco blue uniform looked too big on her, making her look insanely small and slinky. He noticed how she was always almost without a medical mask and whenever she used it, it was laced around her chin; he noticed short, clean nails, and a heart necklace over her chest, a pair of dazzling dove eyes, full hips, a belly.
He really noticed the full hips.
The girl fucking giggled and repeated. She must had a bit of Irish in her judging by the sound of her accent. Simon felt as awkward as a teenage boy in front of any girl ever -Why do bees have sticky hair?
The man shook his head, still confused, a quid in his hand.
-Because they use a honeycomb.
Ah, a woman after his own heart. Such a lame joke.
He snorted out a laugh.
It simply slipped and he memorized the name tag before grabbing his shopping bag and shaking his head, hearing her giggle behind him as he exited the store, and he came back two days later after convincing himself he needed two jars of red bean jam instead of the usual one.
Sometimes he could still hear the bullets.
And now she sleeps here; and Simon had stared at her sleeping form wondering how much time it would take for her to start hating his way of loving, of being, how many times he would go silent on the phone, a bad texter, a worst caller, how he hated crowded places and loud noises and most of their dates happened in her flat, when her roommate was out, staring silently at a film on TV, her friends thinking she's getting her brains fucked out by an experienced, older, lust thirst Vet when in reality, Ghost was gathering up the courage to wrap his arm around her shoulders.
And now she sleeps here.
In the crook of his neck, his thigh over his hip, wild hair all over the bed, sometimes inside his mouth because he stopped using a mask a while ago.
In the mornings, tangled in their bed, warm sheets, the soft breeze of Riley sleeping under the bed, her sweet sweat and vanilla scented skin under his, it took Simon a few seconds to realize he was sleeping in the company of someone; in the arms of a woman and in his own bed, a king size bed with soft white sheets that were washed and changed every 5 days, not a twin bed in a barrack, that his years of active service were over, not forgotten, as if, but that he could allow himself to become whatever he might end up becoming if the 141 didn't happened.
-Come here, boy. Come here, Riley. Yeah, yeah...- said Simon scrunching down to caress right behind Riley's ear, the dog sticking out his long tongue and barking of joy mixed with the hyper sense of his breed, the soldier being careful not to break the eggs he held in a small basket. Simon had found him a puppy a few months ago, seemed like years really, in a litter box with 6 of his brothers and sisters, a beat-up cardboard sign reading "For adoption." And Simon picked up the only one with a lazy ear. He knew deep down that Y/N would appreciate that and simply put him in the passenger seat of the black Bronco truck he owned and drove all the way back home. -You're up early, eh? You having breakkie with us?
He had fallen into a comfortable routine now. He would wake up, crawl over Y/N's sleeping figure, careful not to wake her with the crack of dawn, 5AM with the BBC on his headphones, a 6'2 shadow jogging through the hills of the outskirts of Manchester, for an hour only the dark of the road, the eventual baby blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun. Sometimes Riley was up for it, sometimes he stood behind cuddled up in their room. And upon his return he would work out in their driveway for another hour, noticing the growing presence of what the media now called a "Dad Bod" (Y/N's words, not him) and eventually hearing soft barefoot steps coming from the room.
There was tea for two before he had to head out, get some tasks done, and a soft kiss hanging from Y/NS plush lips, and he would always try to push it, try his luck. He would smile against it, whispering "Good morning..." with a lazy voice, hands on Y/N's full hips, kneading them, in need of them, and Simon would press up with hard on against her stomach, while deepening the kiss.
It never failed to make her wet. It never failed to make her forget the kettle on the fire for a minute and simply give into his kiss, his embrace; him, overall. Simon would pick her up, easily, laid her on the counter, and her robe would open for him, with or without his help, and she was always so wet for him, so ready to do it.
-Simon...- she will say. - Breakfast...
And he wasted no time into twisting her words, dropping to his knees as if he was in the presence of a saint, of a virgin, of the end of the world, staring at her glistening cunt first thing in the morning, looking up with the adoration she deserved; she would gulp and argue it was not what she meant but she would recoil and whimper when Simon stuck his tongue inside his cunt anyway, overlapping her folds, blissfully eating her out before the sun was completely out.
The dog kept barking all the way down to the house, past the barn and the driveway, the small stable with the one horse they had, the pen he was building to eventually own sheep, and Simon felt the cold breeze of the early morning seeping through his black knit sweater and his jean jacket, as he walked all the way across the grass fields and into his porch, the swinging chair Y/N liked to read in, in a need of a reparation.
-Right...- he whispered to himself seeing the hammer he left outside to remind himself to fix the damn chair, bloody hell. Riley's nose peeked through the front door, opening it with ease and technique allowing themselves in, and the cold of the outside world was quickly gone.
Simon stepped into a cozy home, with a color palette he would have never picked, all warm yellows and oranges, pinks and whites, and soft cushions, warm blankets, a picknick turntable in the coffee table; and music, soft music he didn't recognize coming from it, a spinning record on it with yellow and pink lyrics, a girl signing about a loved one, and another voice, a present one, horribly trying to sing along.
He snorted out a laugh when Riley started barking and the voice was interrupted abruptly.
-Simon?...- Radio silence. -Babe?
Oh, the sound of his name in her mouth.
He crossed his living room, stepping into the kitchen, holding four eggs in a small bowl, one from each hen they owned, and he stood in the door frame, just a tad taller than him, admiring the view. He had endured white missions in the Russian winter, literal months of the gruesome torture and gory tasks and they all suddenly made sense because there was a girl.
Ah, there was a girl, alright.
Today was English breakfast. No peas for him, no sausages for her. It was stereotypical but easy to make and no one was around to judge them anyway. Next house was a few miles down the road, and even the road was far away, the town was a 30-minute ride. It was their little bit of heaven. The man stepped in, handing her the basket like every other day and kissed her temple, as she grilled some tomatoes slice ups leaning back against him. His hands would find her hips again and she would yawn with intimacy, hair still a mess, thighs still sticky. -Teas on the table, love. It's gone get cold.
-Ah, it's alright...- he said, hugging her tightly, as she kept leaning on him. -Slow morning today, eh...
She had been there and stuck around whenever the PTSD started acting up. She was the one that loved him when he started going fucking mental; and stuck around when she found her burning up SAS gear, a lost look in his eyes as he did so. He would throw in a Ghost mask and watch it burn for a moment, before murmuring a shocked sob and reaching out into the flames to retrieve it. She stuck around while he drank too much bourbon sitting on the porch, skull mask on, his dogs' tags held so tightly his knuckles will go white with force. Y/N even stuck around when the nightmares came, and she would wake up to Ghost whimpering on his side of the bed, breaking a cold sweat, his jaw tight and her brows furrowed, screaming out "Johnny! Johnny!" before waking up in tears, in raged hot tears down his cheeks, short of breath, his head a full of bullet noises and sirens wailings, pictures of his team and the blood and the grease paint. A mess. A shaking shadow.
Every October 11, she will make sure to hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little softer, love him, if it was possible, a little louder.
And she was here now, cooking breakfast, no peas for him; now he was living a soft life, with tea every morning, and a dog named Riley, with soft hands that wondered around his chest whenever he thought about Soap too much, about Gaz and that helo. But she was here now, and she had no sausages today, as they sat down on their small chair in their small kitchen in their small farm. He was living a soft life, and he didn't think of himself as worthy of it, but he must have been done something good to have her cooking breakfast and sleeping in their bed and caressing their dog under the table.
Tomorrow, Ghost would ask her to come out to the porch to find her reading swing fixed and a wedding ring.
She's going to say yes.
He didn't heard the bullets anymore.
_____________________________________________________________
Hello! Venom here.
Thank you so much to anyone that's been liking my story.
Happy 2024!
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lilmissnatcat24 · 18 days
Text
for no other reason than i worked at an ice cream shop for eight years, here's what ice cream the mass effect characters would eat
shepard: neapolitan, strawberry for their paragon side, chocolate for their renegade, vanilla to balance
garrus: moose tracks, but will pick it apart just for the peanut butter cups and give shepard the leftovers
tali: literally any booze flavored ice cream
liara: mint chocolate chip because she secretly kind've fucks with the taste of toothpaste but will never admit it out loud
kaidan: butter pecan. it's not everyone's favorite, but it's his, and he's totally cool with it
ashley: whatever the 2183 equivalent to the tonight dough. cookie dough chunks, brownie chunks, butterscotch, chocolate chips, malt chunks, everything
wrex: this man is old as balls!!!!!! rum raisin!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
joker: lemon sherbet. you cannot tell me that man is not lactose intolerant
miranda: cherries garcia, little bit sweet, little bit tart
jack: the most sickening sweet shit you can think of. cotton candy with marshmallow superman with a side of sugar
jacob: some sort of dark chocolate peanut butter ice cream that sounds good in theory but in reality you can only take like 3 bites of before you get a tummy ache
zaeed: banana splits that he likes to mash together with a spoon and eat like some deconstructed milkshake
kasumi: the weird avant gard shit you see in hipster vegan shops, like some bacon sweet potato rosebud ice cream
mordin: coffee ice cream, because he likes the taste of coffee but if he were to actually drink it he would spontaneously combust
grunt: those froyo shops that were everywhere in 2014 where you could make a bowl with like 5% froyo and 95% other toppings and it cost 14 dollars
thane: doesn't like ice cream because it reminds him of how he abandoned his child and how his wife is dead and he could never go back to the life he left behind, the life of stability, because his body is engineered for a deadly purpose and he can never atone for his sins rocky road
samara: this woman is old as balls!!!!!!!!!!!!! pistachio!!!!!!!!!!!
legion: tried vanilla ice cream. too sticky, got stuck in his wiring.
james: one of those brownie sundaes that weighs approximately 5 pounds and is majority whipped cream
steve: chocolate chip. classy, just like him ;)
traynor: something smooth and rich and velvety and inexplicably sexy, like raspberry chocolate chunk
edi: takes the idea of ice cream a little too literally and just has a bowl of heavy cream with ice cubes. is confused why everyone is disgusted.
javik: ice cream is for primitives (peaches and cream)
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kteezy997 · 3 months
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Can y/n and wonka maybe have more babies before the candy man series is over? I want them to have a big happy family I think he’d be so proud of them 🥺🥺🥺
Candy Man-Part Nine//W.W.
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Warnings: SMUT, soft Dom Willy,tying reader up during sex, use of sex toy, spanking with a paddle, hand spanking, light hair pulling, baby making session, creampie, some cursing, aftercare
You had to celebrate your engagement, of course, and what better place to celebrate than the secret office?
Willy peeled your clothes off, leaving you completely naked. He told you, "Go on, get on the bed, my love."
You smirked, following his instructions, turning and sitting on the bed.
He walked over to wall of coiled up licorice ropes. He pulled on the thick, red rope to the length of his liking, and ripped it off. he brought the long strand of candy over to you, "Your hands." he said simply, holding the length out toward you.
You put your wrists together, and Willy started to tie them together. You were so excited, you had to press your thighs together. You were getting wet already and he hadn't done anything yet.
"You trust me, don't you?" he asked, looking in your eyes.
"Of course." you answered wholeheartedly.
"Good." he responded, tightening the knot holding your wrists together.
It was different, having Willy being a man of few words, and so dominant. You were thrilled.
He took his clothes off. His cock was hard as the stones walls of the room. He shoved you onto your side.
You felt his hands on your ass cheeks and he spread them to lap at your pussy. You writhed and whimpered at the contact of his wet, eager tongue. You ached for him. The point of his tongue flicked over your clit, softly, then suddenly at rapid pace, making you cry out in ecstasy.
He pushed his fingers inside of you, pumping, circling, curling. It was too much. You cried out his name.
"Say 'chocolate' if you ever need me to stop what I'm doing in this room." Willy said.
You took the mental note, and bucked your hips against his fingers, just needing the stimulation.
"Say 'okay' so I know you understand, y/n." he demanded, stopping his playing fingers.
"Okay," you panted, "okay."
"Good girl." Willy said, standing up and touching your hair. "Now darling, if you move, I'll have to spank you. Understand?”
“Yes.” You remained perfectly still as you watched him walk over to the big candy canes. He picked one, and brought it over to you. You had no way of knowing what would happen next.
“This is not like a regular candy cane, my love.” he explained, holding it in both hands, “It is made of silicone, so you don’t have to be concerned about sugar being inside you.”
That’s supposed to go in me? It wasn’t huge by any means, but it was long.
“With your permission, I’ll try it out, would you like that, y/n?” asked your sweet Willy.
“You’re going to put it inside of me?” you whimpered, not knowing if you should be as anxious as you were.
“Only if you say yes.”
“Okay, yes, let’s do it.” you were so horny, you’d let your man try just about anything on you right now.
You could practically hear the grin on Willy’s face. “Alright,” his hand went to your hip as you lay in your side, “just relax.”
You felt pressure on your clit, then rubbing, the object was warm, to your delight, and softer than you imagined.
Willy circled your clit with his candy cane, then with a slight move, he slipped it inside you. It glided easily, filling your walls.
“Mm, fuck.” you moaned, your back arching.
Willy took your response as the go ahead to fuck into you with the pretend candy.
It wasn’t as good as having your darling Willy’s cock in your pussy, but it was damn close. It was amazing. It did reach deeper inside you. Willy hit your cervix with it several times. He used his other hand to toy with your clit as he pumped the candy cane in and out.
Sticky sounds filled your ears and you moaned like a madwoman. You could barely take another second, you needed to touch him. With your hands still tied, you put your hand on his which was fondling your clit.
“Ah-ah.” he swatted your hands away.
Now you remembered what you weren’t supposed to do.
“I didn’t give you permission to move.”
"I'm sorry. It won't happen again, Willy." you tried, weakly.
"No, sorry won't help you, y/n." he countered. You saw him approaching the lollipops on the opposite wall. He picked one of them up, and as he came back over to the bed, you could see that it was a wooden paddle. The colorful, swirly design was deceiving of its real purpose. "You know what I have to do now, don't you, my darling?"
"Yes, I do." you whimpered.
"Okay, good. Now, since you wanted to move so badly, why don't your turn over for me." he demanded. This deviant Willy was so far removed from your doting lover. You didn't know if you were nervous or more turned on by him.
You did as he instructed, getting on your knees as best as you could with your hands still tied. You stilled yourself on the bed with your ass up, bared to him.
Willy touched the head of the paddle to your skin. You noticed how hard it was, and it seemed that there was rubber on it as well. This was going to sting. You gulped, having no real way to prepare yourself for this.
The first smack came down hard on your ass, it was a sharp, stinging pain. You cried out a whimper. Willy gave you another. "Mm." you grunted, biting your lip. Did that one...feel good? You wanted more.
The third hit came and you let out a little high pitched chirp, wiggling your ass a bit in anticipation for the next one. You only wished you could see how Willy was getting off as he swatted your ass with his lollipop.
"You like this, don't you?" he asked, chuckling lowly.
"Yeah," you said with a weak sigh, "I like it."
You couldn't see him, but you knew he was shaking his head and smirking at you. "Alright then, I think you..." you felt his weight on the bed, "need to be filled." The lolly was dropped on the floor and you felt the warmth from Willy's body on your skin. He grabbed your hair, pulling you up and he held you to his chest.
It felt incredibly soothing to be in his embrace, to feel the soft skin of the man you loved. His curls tickled your face.
With his mouth to your ear, he whispered, "You need to be put in your place."
"Oh yeah?" you teased, grinning.
"And I think you'd like it." He had reached in front of you, untying the licorice rope that bound your hands.
Finally, you could touch him. You cupped his face that was right next to yours.
He gave you a kiss on your cheek, saying, “I want to ask you something first."
"Okay." you breathed out. Having no idea where this could go.
"Would it be alright if we had another baby?"
"Yes," you said in an instant, "I'll have as many of your babies as you want, Mr. Wonka."
"Good, I want to give you all of my baby-making cream, y/n." With that, he shoved you down, and your chest met the softness of the bed.
You felt the tip of his cock nudging your wetness, and with a push, he was inside you.
You let out a sigh of relief, you were worn down, but you were happy to feel him inside of you.
Over the course of the two of you being together, Willy had built up an impressive amount of stamina. He fucked you steadily for a while. The friction when he first started was enough to send you over the edge and you trembled as you came.
He continued on, bucking away, destroying you. He would shift in his position to hit you deeper and at different angles. At one point, he plunged his entire length inside you, and rotated his hips, letting his tip graze your cervix.
He'd alternate here and there, smacking your already sore, burning ass cheeks, and squeezing them.
It was all you could do to take what he was giving you, and whimper and whine like a whore.
"I'm gonna come, my love." he called out to you. He had returned to your tender, sweet Willy.
"Give me your cream, Willy. Fill me, my darling boy!"
You felt it gush into you with a steady stream, plentiful for making a baby. He stayed inside you for a few minutes afterwards, “I don’t want to lose a drop.” he said, insistently.
Later, he soaked some tea towels in cold milk from his little fridge and put them on your bottom, to help the burns from the paddle. It was soothing to your skin. Willy had a remedy for everything.
He smoothed your hair back, and let you lay comfortably on your stomach. He even gave you a gentle massage over your whole body. He gave you little kisses as he rubbed your sore muscles.
“Oh, Willy” you cooed, so softly, you were so tired you could barely speak, “I love you.”
“I love you, my dear fiancé, and soon to be mommy of three.” he hummed happily.
..........
Nine months later, your third child was born. You weren't totally certain he was conceived that first night in the secret chocolate chamber, but you and Willy liked to think that was when it happened.
@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt
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weird-an · 24 days
Text
tw: homophobia
Jim drives Max home. She had been to the country fair with El. They are sitting on the backseat, high from the bunch of sweets they bought. The whole car smells like sticky caramel and cotton candy. Like childhood and good memories.
Max hugs El goodbye. El smiles at her and Jim is so fucking relieved. That she's got friends, that she can do what kids her ages do, that she can act normal like she can't kill a man just by thinking about it.
It only lasts a second. El freezes, grabs Max' hand before she can get out of the car.
"Jim," she says, voice wavering. "What's a... faggot?"
Jim frowns. When and why did she learn that word?
"A queer," he says, feeling uneasy. He isn't really prepared to talk about stuff like that in his car on a Saturday evening. "A person who… loves someone of the same gender. Don't use these words... It's not nice."
"Queer," El echoes. Shit. Max stares at her with wide eyes. More... guilty than surprised. "Is that bad?"
"No." Hopper shuffles in his seat. "Just... different."
Why are they talking about this?
El stares at Max' house. A line between her eyes.
"Billy is hurt. He thinks it's okay, because Neil is right about him," she says finally, like she's reciting a text she memorized.
"What?" Jim's mouth turns dry. "What happened?"
"What happens to faggots," El repeats, voice monotone and eyes distant. "Neil just wants to help."
Jim doesn't know shit about gay people. Jim didn't ever really think about them. But he knows about fathers whose help is nothing but wounds and scars and nightmares.
He's out of the car and bangs at the door.
"What's going on, Sheriff?" A stern looking man with a mustache is opening, a frown on his face. There's blood on his wedding ring, his hand on the door.
"You're not laying a hand on the kid," Jim yells and he can feel El's presence in the back of his mind, her fear and maybe that's what makes him pull Neil Hargrove by his collar. "Do you understand?"
"Sir, there has to be a misunderstanding-" Neil starts, but is shut up.
Jim has always been a hothead and he doesn't even remember raising his fist. He lets go of the other man.
Neil holds his nose.
"Oh, I understand fuckers like you," Jim spits. "I was raised by one."
He tries to peek into the dark of the house.
"Billy," he shouts.
Billy looks small next to his dad. His lip is split, eyes wide and he stares at Jim like he's a monster, Santa Claus or something similar unbelievable.
"Chief," he says. He's scared, Jim can see that. His hands are shaking.
"Your dad doesn't know shit. If he ever touches you again, call me. Do you understand?"
"O-okay." Billy nods, voice shaky.
Jim turns to the boy's father. "Not in my town," he spits. "Not Max, not Billy, no one."
He knows he can't save everyone, but he can at least try to protect some kids.
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 year
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I need to talk about ADA! Dazai and Beast! Dazai because Beast ruined me beyond repair.
ADA! Dazai is like a beautiful red rose which caught your eye - you wish to have it, to pluck it, but it's so easy to forget that roses have very, very sharp thorns. Dazai has many people around him but a tiny few he can confidently say he trusts.
Which is why he might just be a bit prickly at the start.
Don't get me wrong, he is still the same old Dazai you first met. Confident, flirty, intelligent, a giant tease! Life is a breeze with him, there isn't anything in the world which Dazai can't do or crack wide open. It's so easy to spill all of your deepest, darkest secrets to him, so easy to open up and become dependent on him.
But just when you think you have him figured out, you're right back to square one.
ADA! Dazai, who does not know what to do with himself or you for that matter. How fun and cute you are, your crush is so obvious. He can't help it, he just has to tease you, you always give him the best reactions. He chooses to be careful with you in the beginning, think of dipping your toes in cold water for the first time.
Time passes and Dazai opens himself up to you. You are finally allowed to caress his scarlet red petals albeit with his thorns still in the way. They prickle and hurt, they may even leave a scar or two in their way but you don't care. Loving Dazai is like a drug, once you get a taste you can never get enough. The constant need for his attention and validation is just too intoxicating and Dazai is none the wiser.
Beast! Dazai though... Where do I even start?
This man and his love, to me at least, kind of feels like the lyric "Here comes the sun, she's the brightest star of them all." from the song Sonne by Rammstein.
There is absolutely nothing this man won't do for you and I mean it.
Beast! Dazai is terrifying and he knows it. He regularly uses and manipulates his authority and throws threats around like candy, particularly if his subordinates decide to question why on Earth would he settle for someone like you. You, his sweet, precious, darling, addicting little you, the reason why his heart beats and why he decides to take a breath and live the life he wants to live... As much as he can, that is...
Beast! Dazai uses your fear as a leverage and toys with you in a similar fashion to ADA! Dazai but there is a grim feeling to it, kind of like sticky black tar, it never leaves your person. He never allows you to breathe because he simply must be with you all day, every day. The sheer intensity of his stare alone is something worthy of the history books as even some of the most seasoned and battle hardened mafiosos can't help but to be off put by their boss. Everything is crystal clear right from the get go, anyone who messes with you messes with him, the Port Mafia boss himself and they will answer for their crimes no matter how miniscule they may be.
Beast! Dazai, who is desperate for you and your love but never manages to tell you. Instead he chooses to isolate you, to make you dependent on him so that you can have no one to turn to other than him. ADA! Dazai is at least sensible enough to understand that yes, personal choice actually does matter even if he will have it play out how he wants to in the end but Beast! Dazai does not have the time for that shenaniganary! He hides his despair and need for you like a true master of all lies and trickery. He tells you he could kill you immediately, put a bullet in your head and find someone else to screw with and you believe him.
How can you not?
Never in a million years could you predict that this man was ready to destroy the world for you and create it anew, that no one else in this world, this universe could ever replace you.
You, his sun, moon, star, his heart. His everything. And you will never know. But that's okay because Dazai knows. And he will always keep you close, forever and always.
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