#branded cologne gift sets

[branded-cologne]

Buy Perfumeries Gift set online at best price

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

(UN)FINISHED BUSINESS

PART 2: (UN)FINISHED CHEMISTRY

• jude bellingham x exgf!reader

• warnings: maybe a little bit toxic? nothing alarming. But English is still not my first language.

• summary: When forced to do an Adidas campaign together, Jude and his ex-girlfriend clash over unresolved tension and venomous words, igniting old wounds. However, their chemistry is undeniable beneath that professional facade.

The bright lights of the studio beat down with a harsh, sterile intensity. It was the kind of artificial brightness that made every flaw visible, every tense glance impossible to miss. The photographer called for adjustments to the set, the stylists hovered nearby, and the air conditioner hummed in the background―a soothing contrast to the palpable tension that dominated the room.

Jude Bellingham stood tall at one side, his body language exuding ease and confidence, though his eyes burned with an intensity that had nothing to do with the camera. He was dressed in head-to-toe Adidas gear, a sleeck black tracksuit that clung to his athletic frame, his hands casually in his pockets. His dark eyes, however, were fixed on the woman standing a few feet away―her.

His ex.

She´d tried so hard to appear unaffected when she walked in, her expression carefully schooled into professionalism. Dressed in a matching Adidas apparel, her perfectly combed hair that framed her lightly made up face minutes before, she looked the picture of calm. But the way her fingers tightened around the water bottle in her hand betrayed her. Jude had always known how to read her.

He forced himself to stop looking at her. Her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, the Adidas outfit hugging her in all the right places, accentuating her figure in ways that Jude was painfully aware of. His jaw clenched.

It had been months since they last saw each other. Months since the vicious breakup that left them both battered emotionally. The fallout had been public and brutal―spilled out into the tabloids, whispered about in interviews. Yet, here they were, forced to endure each other´s presence for the sake of their contract with Adidas. The irony wasn´t lost on any of them. They had signed for the brand long before their messy split. Neither of them had been smart enough to consider the long-term consequences. Now, they were stuck together, fake smiles plastered across their faces for the cameras and a product niether of them gave a damn about.

They used to be a power couple, that´s why they were hired in the first place. Now they were just exes with unfinished business and buried resentment that resurfaced when they looked at each other for more than three seconds.

"Perfect, now, Jude can you step a little closer to her? We need chemistry to really come through in these shots," the photographer called out, adjusting his lens.

Chemistry. The word lingered in the air like smoke. Jude´s lips twitched into something that could´ve been a smirk if it wasn´t so bitter. Chemistry. Right. There was plenty of that, but not the kind Adidas was hoping for.

He stepped closer, catching a whiff of her perfume―the same one she used to wear when they were together. The same one he had gifted her once. It was ridiculous how something so small could throw him off balance. She glanced up, her eyes catching his for a split second before she looked away. But it was enough. Tension crackled between them, so sharp and undeniable that they both wondered how everyone in the room wasn't as overwhelmed as they were.

"Closer please," the photographer asked again.

This time, she swallowed hard and obeyed moving toward him. Jude stood there, hands in his pockets, still, his gaze intense, his presence infuriatingly cool. It took everything in her not to react to him.

Not to flinch when his scent, familiar and exasperatingly intoxicating, hit her. That same cologne that she used to love.

Professionalism. That was the only thing keeping her from walking out of this room.

"Close enough for you?" Jude asked, with his voice low, just for her to hear, laced with a mocking smile. She avoided rolling her eyes. That was his way of dealing with things, she knew it well. Acting as if nothing had happened, even upsetting her, when in reality, his anger was eating away at him.

"Perfect," the photographer chimed in, unaware of the undercurrent swirling between the two. "Now, you should put your arm around her, and you should lean into him a bit. Make it look natural, like you´re both having a good time."

She almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Good time? There was no such thing between them anymore. She tensed as Jude´s arm snaked around her waist, his fingers grazing her side. For a moment, they felt natural, as if his hand belonged there. The touch sent sparks flying across her skin―both the kind that burned an the kind that made her stomach twist in an old, familiar way.

He leaned closer when the photographer looked at the pictures, lips brushing her ear. "This used to be easy."

She didn’t even deign to look at him, a faint smile playing on her lips as the camera clicked. “Don’t talk to me,” she said, her voice dripping with impatience. “I just want this to be over as soon as possible. I have things to do.”

"Hmm." Jude gave a nonchalant shrug, his voice dripping with false understanding. "Got it. Wouldn’t want to keep that benchwarmer of a boyfriend of yours waiting too long, right?" He turned his gaze back to the camera, clearly unfazed by her possible reaction. "I thought it would take you a little bit more to move on..."

Her pulse quickened, heat rising to her cheeks. She knew exactly what he was referring to. The rumors. The whispers about her and another footballer of the Premier League. She hadn´t confirmed any of those rumors—not because they were true, which weren´t, but because she didn´t owe anyone an explanation. Least of all him.

She changed her posture slowly, and finally met his eyes. "You´re one to talk about moving on, Jude," she said, her voice icy as she could manage. "How many instagram models have you cycled through in the last six months?"

A flicker of something dark passed through Jude´s eyes, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by that infuriating smirk. "Oh, we´re going there?."

"You started it," she said calmly, barely maintaining her pose as the photographer circled them, blissfully unaware of their venomous exchange. "You just can´t stand the thought of me moving on, can you? But the again, you never could handle competition."

He chuckled, a laugh that felt forced but also genuine. "It´s not competition if the guy is not even good enough to get on the pitch, love." The nickname sent shivers down both of them, and Jude felt his heart pounding. He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "But honestly? It’s just sad to watch you settle for less."

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and for a moment, Jude thought she might slap him. But instead, she took a slow, deliberate breath and stepped back, breaking the proximity between them.

“Screw you,” she snapped, her voice laced with frustration. “You´ve spent the last months parading around every influencer who bats her eyelashes at you. Don´t talk about my personal life," she let slip, even though her initial intention was to shut her mouth.

His jaw tightened, while his grip on her waist firmed. It wasn’t painful, but his hands made their presence known. She saw the flash of anger in his eyes. Good. Let him feel it.

The camera clicked again, capturing the tension that was almost palpable between them. The photographer murmured something about "great intensity" in their poses, but they barely heard him. He went to clean the lenses or something like that, again, they didn´t care.

The moment he left, they remained frozen in their poses, face to face, almost touching. The height difference between them became increasingly evident, adding a subtle weight to the tension in the air. He could almost smell the fresh mint on her breath, a crisp, invigorating scent that awakened his senses and made him acutely aware of their closeness.

"You think I moved on just to spite you? Grow up, Jude."

Their faces were inches apart, the fire in her eyes reflecting his own. "Then why him?" He didn’t even care who the guy was; he would have felt the same way whether it was some athlete or just a random man.

She didn´t flinch, her gaze holding his with a steely resolve. "Because he is not you."

The word hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded. Jude´s heart pounded in his chest, and for a split second, all the anger, all the bitterness, melted away, leaving only the raw, painful truth of it all.

He still wanted her. He still missed her. And he hated himself for it.

"Alright, everyone, sorry for the interruption—looks like the lens was a bit dirty! Let’s get back to it and capture some more friendly shots. Jude, why don’t you hug her from behind like you’re playing?"

They both appreciated the photographer's interruption and took a moment to reposition themselves with a bit of caution. As she closed her eyes, she felt the warmth of his arms resting on her shoulders and the closeness of their waists. Holy mother of God.

Jude´s breath was hot against her skin, and it took everything in her not to react, not to crumble under the weight of it. Because as much as she hated to admit it, he wasn´t wrong. She did miss him. The way he made her feel alive and on fire, even if it was chaotic and messy and sometimes unberable. She hadn´t felt anything close to that since him. And it scared her.

"You still flinch when I touch you," he smirked, now his thumb brushing over her hip just slightly. “And you miss me…”

"I don´t flinch, Jude. I recoil," she lied, smiling a little bit genuine. “And you wish.”

Jude leaned in, his perfect grin prepared for the camera but meant only for her eyes. With a playful glint, he whispered, "Liar." The word hung between them, teasing and electric, making her heart race.

She bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was right. But the way her heart pounded, the way her body still reacted to his touch—she hated it.

The final shots were even more intimate—his arm around her waist, her hand on his chest, their faces inches apart. Every touch felt like it was setting her on fire, but she wouldn’t let him win. She wouldn’t let him see how much he still affected her.

As they wrapped up, the photographer thanked them both, oblivious to the war that had been raging between them. The moment the cameras stopped, she stepped away from him, desperate for space, for air.

But Jude wasn’t done.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around then,” he said, his voice casual, but there was an undercurrent of something more—something unresolved.

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to hold herself together and half-joked. “God I hope not.”

Jude hesitated, his usual cocky demeanor slipping for just a moment. “For what it’s worth… I didn’t mean for things to end like they did.”

She glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. But before she could respond, the mask was back—the teasing smirk, the cocky swagger.

“And for the record,” he added, his voice low as he passed by her, “you do miss me.”

She rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny the truth that lingered between them. Despite everything—the anger, the bitterness, the pain—she did miss him.

He did too.

As she watched him walk away, a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, despite herself. They might have been a mess, but somewhere beneath all the fire and fury, there was still something there.

Something neither of them could quite let go.

[kaiserthread]

shopping spree

clothes/accessories the bllk boys buy you! characters: sae, kaiser, reo content: pro players, established relationship, f!reader, fluff lowkey my first time writing anything romantic so this might be ooc, was giggling soooooo hard while writing this part 2 here!

ITOSHI SAE - wool coat

took one look at you shivering and thought NO

buys you a nice wool coat for the winter months

he’s always giving you his when you guys are out together, might as well have your own for when he’s away 

he sprays a bit of his cologne on it when he knows he’s going to be away from you for a while

sae worries about you, he hates when you're upset, hates when you get hurt, and most of all he hates seeing you in the cold and shivering because you refuse to wear a jacket that isn’t his. this brings him to his current predicament, he’ll have to leave you to go to training camp in the winter. “just don’t go, sae. who’s jacket am i going to wear?” you whine dramatically, draping yourself over the pile of clothes he's currently placing into his travel bag. “get off, I need those.” sae scolds. “and you have your own jackets.” “but they’re so much better when they're yours.” you pout at him. he sighs, knowing he’s already lost this battle. the morning he leaves is gloomy. he leaves early, waking you to kiss you goodbye and shushing you back to sleep. as you’re leaving you find a note on the hall closet, sae’s handwriting reminding you to grab a jacket. you open the closet to find a brand new wool coat, almost identical to his. you pull it on and catch the familiar scent of his cologne. reaching into the pocket you find a handwritten note that reads: for whenever you miss me, i love you darling

MICHAEL KAISER - jewelry

the possessive type honestly, takes note of your preferred metal and buys you a thin chain with a delicate ‘M’ on it 

a charm bracelet with a blue rose charm

a dainty sapphire anklet to show off during the warm summer months

takes every excuse to buy you some new bling

michael comes home after practice with a familiar looking gift bag. he sets it down on the coffee table and kisses your cheek in greeting, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sits down next to you on the couch. “is that for me?” you gesture to the bag in front of you, “what’s the occasion?” you ask as michael leans against you, “practice wasn’t as long as usual so I got to come home to you earlier.” he reaches for the bag and takes out a slim box. you open it and find a sleek new bracelet, perfectly complimenting the others stacked on your wrist. “thank you mihya, it’s beautiful!” you exclaim, turning to press a kiss to his cheek. “but seriously, did i forget something? you can tell me.” he pushes himself up to kiss you, his breath warm on your lips as he whispers, “no my love, let me spoil you, it’s the least you deserve.”

MIKAGE REO - louboutin red bottoms

okayyyyy go rich boy!

but seriously he wants to give you the best of everything including something as simple as a pair of heels

so he buys you a pair of 100mm pumps in both the beige and black colorway

watched you struggle walking in them for .5 seconds before putting in an order for a pair with a lower heel

“are you sure you’re comfortable in those? let me order a pair with a lower heel.” reo is seriously worried that you’re going to trip and break your face trying on the gift he bought you. “babe seriously, it’s fine. i’ll break them in, put your phone down, are you seriously ordering another pair?!” you exclaim, moving over towards him to try to grab the phone out of his hand. reo is having none of it, taking advantage of the fact that your new heels are throwing you off balance to run off into the ensuite bathroom to place the order. he walks back into the room to find you sitting on the edge of your shared bed, arms crossed and pouting. he moves in front of you to kiss the pout off your lips, “angel don’t worry about it, that money is nothing to me. i want you to be comfortable.”

[littlemissmiller]

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐘𝐨𝐮

Pairing: drug dealer!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: (au) Graduation is here and Coriolanus is ready to just get the day over with. After the ceremony, The Plinth’s hold a lunch party at their house and you being there has Coriolanus’s mind in knots. All he can think about is what’s underneath your dress…

Warning: 21+ (smoking, drug uses/ mentions of drug use) eventually smut, mentions of masturbation (m receiving), semi-public, bathroom foreplay, slight dom!reader jealously, slight obsession, possession, toxic relationship, slight stalking

Word count: 5k

A/N: hi! sorry this second ch took so long. i promise the next one will be here quicker tho. this new ch tho really turns up the heat like 🥵 god coriolanus is such a horny little boy in this one and wants it sooooo bad….so enjoy ❣︎

Series Masterlist | Playlist

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Coriolanus dresses himself for graduation. He buttons his crisp, white dress shirt. It had been neatly and freshly ironed that morning by his grandmother. The smell of eggs and bacon waft into his room and Tigris pops in with a plate.

“Hey cus, oh Coryo…” She starts then notices him now fully dressed in his white button up and slacks. She's holding a plate of breakfast and a cup of coffee, but sets it on his desk and rushes to him. She has the overwhelming urge to hug him, but doesn’t want to mess up his attire. Tigris dusts off the tops of his shoulders and grips him lightly.

“Oh look at you. Does it fit right?”

“Of course. Thanks again, now the sleeves fit perfectly.” He remarks, stretching out his arms to show off her own seamstress work to her.

Having Tigris away in New York these days at fashion school came with its own set of challenges. Which is why when she left for college in his sophomore year, he started dealing drugs. Coriolanus had always been pegged as mature and “wiser beyond his years'” by adults and teachers so aside from Sejanus, he really only had Tigris and her friends as company. And they were always around, until they weren’t and Coriolanus realized how empty he felt with no one to tag along with. Her room would sit empty until the summers, and when she returned she was like Persephone. It makes their grandma happier, more lively too, a trait Coriolanus wishes he could emulate. He wishes to have that effect on people, but it seems to fall flat. Usually people seem cautious and wary about him, like a powder keg ready to explode.

Coriolanus smiles back at his cousin, then looking over his shoulder and into his closet mirror. He admires himself, smiling for a moment then looking back at Tigris

“Thanks Ty,” he sighs , hugging her

“Oh! I have something for you. Consider it a pre-graduation gift” she pulls back, rushing into her room.

She scurry’s back and is carrying a small black box, tied together with a single black satin bow. He unties it, letting the ribbon fall to the floor. He opens the box and inside is a bottle of cologne. It was a square black bottle, a luxury brand that he had seen countless times in department stores at the mall.

He picks it up and immediately takes in the scent. It was musky, but fresh and slightly intoxicating. It was masculine, but still had a tinge of something sweet. He looks up at her in awe. The Snows hadn’t been able to afford much since both Coriolanus’ and Tigris' parents had been out of the picture.

Money was tight, and they had shared two cars between the three of them. Coriolanus would usually drive his late grandfather’s old white F250, which only he seems to be able to navigate, so his grandma and Tigris drove a navy 2008 Corellia. On top of that, Tigris always had a job from the moment she was sixteen and Coriolanus made sure to find ways to make money for his family. He would usually do house work for people in the neighborhood and landscaping in the summer. So to have an item of such luxury in his hands, from his cousin, means the world to him at this moment.

“Thank you. This is…you must have worked so hard for this…”

“It really didn’t put me out too much, especially with my intern this July. I have some connections now.” She smiles

“You’re truly a wonder.” Coriolanus admires

“As are you. I know you’ll continue to make this family proud.”

She hugs him one last time before leaving him alone with her gift in his hands. He smells it again, taking it out of the bottle and spraying his neck, and the inside of his wrists. Maybe you’ll come up to him and notice. Notice how good he smells, and want to talk to him. Touch him. He wonders how you’ll look today. What perfume you’ll choose since, he was aware you had many scents you liked to wear. He loved when you would spray yourself with your mini travel size bottle. It had a musky, vanilla scent, like a caramel. It would spin in his nostrils and make him hard. It made him want to taste you.

He shook himself from his thoughts, palming himself through his pants to relieve some tension. He takes the plate of breakfast from his desk and chews on a piece of bacon. He sits on his bed. He sits his plate down and bends down to pull out a small thick mesh bag. Inside was his lighter, grinder, a glass chillum pipe, a wooden dugout with a one hitter, a few pre rolls, and about an ounce of indica. He takes out some of the weed and the grinder. He places it in the teeth of the grinder, pushes down and turns. The smell of the flower wafts in the air and Coriolanus takes his lighter and leans over to light his bedside candle, an item he frequently restocks for this reason.

Tigris was aware that Coriolanus smoked, but unaware that he sold and his grandmother didn’t know either. Not that he dared smoke in his room without at least opening a window and blowing it out, but he didn’t want to have the scent waft and linger for his grandmother’s sake. He didn’t smoke in the house often, and usually sat outside on the back patio. When all the weed is ground up, he unscrews the bottom on the grinder and shakes it into his dugout. He clears out the one hitter and fills it up for a hit. Once it’s all packed, he puts it away, closing the top and sliding the dugout into his pocket for later. He knew that having to be at a school function for so long would mentally take it out of him, plus what would they do if he gets caught, he’ll already be graduated. Additionally, Sejanus was having a post-graduation lunch for the grade at his house and Coriolanus knew he wouldn’t be able to survive both consecutively with being high.

The nice thing about being friends with Sejanus was he lived in your neighborhood. You and him came from wealthy families, and those were the nicest houses in town, so whenever he would head over to Sejanus’s house he got to pass by your own. Sometimes he’d notice your bedroom light was on, and wondered if you were in your room. Your white Audi Q5 was usually parked outside, but if not, he knew where it and you were. Devon’s house. Which he suspected you would both be at the Plinth’s house after graduation. Even though you didn’t explicitly mention it last night, Coriolanus had a feeling you’d be there since your boyfriend was always cozying up to Mr. Plinth to get a job with his energy company, which the Plinths supply half of the county with. It was pathetic really, given how Sejanus was going to inherit the company when his father retires or dies, and then what. God Devon was such an annoying prick he couldn’t stand it.

Coriolanus finishes the rest of his breakfast. He checks himself one last time in the mirror, then grabs his phone, keys, a lighter, and wallet. He grabs his cap and gown and heads downstairs. He heads into the kitchen, placing his empty breakfast plate in the dishwasher and bidding his grandma and Tigris a goodbye until the ceremony. He had promised Sejanus last week to give him a ride to the ceremony to avoid “a headache from his parents.” Which Coriolanus gleefully accepted. Any excuse to pass by your house.

On his way there he turns up some music, enjoying the morning and glad to be done with high school. Lana del Ray’s song Diet Mountain Dew starts to play as he rolls into the nice, polished neighborhood of Governor’s Way. He draws closer to your house and sees your car still parked outside. He smiles to himself and keeps driving. He makes a left turn at the end of the street and Sejanus’s house sits at the end of a cul-de-sac, slightly off center to the right. He pulls up and sits in his car waiting for Sejanus. From his rear view mirror he can see your house and watches. Maybe you’ll come out. Maybe he’ll catch a glimpse of you. He watches and he sees something he detests. Your boyfriend pulls up, his country music roaring. He turns away and texts:

Here

Coming sorry!

Ma wanted pictures

Of course she did. Coriolanus sighs to himself and checks the time. The ceremony isn’t until 10 am, but seniors were expected to arrive at 9 am to ensure they were accounted for and not late. Sejanus comes out the front door, already in his cap and gown walking into Coriolanus’s truck and smiling.

“Are you nervous?” He asks, as they back out

“No” Coriolanus smirks

“I feel weird. I can’t believe it’s all over. And now we are off to college…”

“Hey man, let's enjoy our break, yeah?”

“I will. Oh Ma wants to take us out shopping for bedding and decor for our dorm. She thinks we should shop together so we can try to make our room look like it all flows…”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes. Of course his mother wants matching bedsheets and decorations for them. Of course she’s thinking about it before her son has even received his diploma. It’s so infuriating, but at least he’ll get a free set of bed sheets. The Plinths were always generous with the Snow family. As he starts to pull by your house he sees you come out and greet your boyfriend. You’re in a white dress, your hair down and slightly curled. Even from here you’re stunning. Like a sweet dollop of whipped cream that Coriolanus wants to lick up.

You see his car go by and smile at him as you hug Devon. Coriolanus smiles and your boyfriend notices your attention has been drawn away from him. He looks behind and Coriolanus speeds up. He scowls at the white truck as it rides by and starts to shuffle you inside. Coriolanus turns up the music in frustration and Sejanus looks at him sympathetically. An old Billie Eilish song, my boy, plays and Coriolanus smirks at how fitting it is for the situation. Concerned, Sejanus turns it down to talk to him.

“Maybe they’ll break up before the summer is over…”

“Yeah and then what? She’s still going to Cali in August. I’m staying here. It’s whatever dude…”

“I’m just saying. I know how much you like her.”

“Ok well she doesn’t like me so it doesn’t matter.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure.” Sejanus suggests

“Why?” Coriolanus asks

“Just something she asked me in Art History…”

“What did she say?”

“Just we were talking and she kinda subtly asked if you and I were staying close to home because of anybody. I said no and she asked about you. Wanted to know if there was some girl she didn’t know about…”

Coriolanus’s heart races. You’re asking his best friend about him. If he’s staying near home for a girl and wanting to know if he’s single or not. Why? Are you interested in him? Are you about to leave your boyfriend for him? He could hardly believe it and almost missed the turn.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…” Sejanus remarks

“No. Thanks for telling me it’s just…fuck dude don’t get my fucking hopes up…”

“I’m not, just yeah, I thought you’d at least wanna know that…”

The two boys pull into the school, parking in the back. They walk inside, check in, and are instructed to head into the auditorium, where they would wait. The graduation would be taking place in the gymnasium, the only space big enough to host all the guests and 150 seniors. They walk to the auditorium Meanwhile, Coriolanus puts his gown on, but not fully zipped and he holds his cap to the side. They find a seat and Coriolanus pulls out his phone. He pulls up Snapchat and sees you’ve posted on your story. He taps on it. There you are. A cute mirror selfie, showcasing your makeup with a white cursive caption that said:

graduation look

He loved getting to see little glimpses of you like this. Over the last few years he’d gotten accustomed to these types of photos and to an extend the layout of your room. Sometimes it would fuel his imagination of you. He thought about just how precious you’d look spread out on your plush, pink sheets and comforter. About you laying against your fluffy white pillows, holding them in-between your legs as you playfully roll around your bed, showing off for him.

He closes out your story quickly and taps to show the next one and it’s Devon’s. It’s a picture of you and him. His arm around you in front of your house. His caption reads:

Grad time

Coriolanus swipes away and rolls his eyes. He scoffs and Sejanus looks at him, frowning. He wants to say something, but can’t think of anything to tell Coriolanus to make him feel better. Sejanus then looks around nervously and catches you walking in with Devon. He decides not to say anything and whips around quickly, which only draws Coriolanus’s attention in. He turns around and sees you walk towards the front, cap in hand, gown on. Now that you’re closer to him, he can see your tan heels to go with your dress. He likes how they look and desperately wants to tell you. You give him a small wave as you walk in, and before he can return it, your boyfriend comes into the auditorium. Boisterous and obnoxious, he chats it up with some buddies for a moment, then notices your attention toward Coriolanus. He strides toward you, taking your hand and walking you away from him. Coriolanus is left fuming and feeling embarrassed. Fuck Devon. He fucking hates that prick.

As the last of the students file in, the administrators instruct the seniors to line up in alphabetical order, which took less time than expected given it was a common ask for these types of school events. Coriolanus was in the back of the line, with Sejanus a few people ahead. He turns back, giving Coriolanus a nervous smile, eyes beginning to swell with tears. Coriolanus simply nods and the line moves into the gymnasium. Coriolanus doesn’t think of much as entering the gym, he’s just ready to get this over with. As he walks in, pomp and circumstance plays, and he looks around for his grandma and Tigris, spotting them on the left side of the bleachers in the middle. He waves and they wave back. Tigris holds a bouquet of white roses and their grandma is clearly struggling to take pictures on Tigris’s iPhone. He smiles and shakes his head. He turns back to look in front of him, following the line of students to his seat.

The ceremony goes as he expects. Long, cheesy, too many speeches, and most of all, boring. The only thing that captures his attention is you. Being valedictorian, you were asked to give a speech on the importance of academics and the hope for the future. Coriolanus is sure that the school gave you strict guidance on what to say since he knows that if you had spoken from the heart, it would have upstaged these sad high school admin clowns.

After the ceremony, Coriolanus finds his family. Tigris hands him a bouquet of white roses and the three of them take pictures together. Sejanus’s mom also insists on taking pictures of him and Coriolanus together. Coriolanus smiles and poses for as long as he can take it and thankfully the Plinth’s leave to get ready for the post-graduation lunch at their house. Coriolanus tells his grandma and cousin he’ll meet them at lunch and at the last minute Sejanus decides to ride with him back to his house.

“Sorr, just dad was starting to get annoyed with mom so I figured I’d let them work it out”

“It’s cool man.” Coriolanus nods, taking off his cap and gown. Sejanus follows his actions before getting in the truck.

“I’m glad the weather is nice. Ma spent all of yesterday morning on the phone with the catering company. I guess more people are coming last minute than expected.”

“Like who?” Coriolanus inquires

Sejanus rattles off a few names of classmates including you and Devon. Coriolanus hitches his breath and glances at his friend.

“Oh yeah?”

Sejanus nods

“Devon wants to suck up to your dad you know. Trying to get a nice cozy salary job doing nothing all day.”

“Yeah, dad doesn’t like him much anyways…”

Coriolanus scoffs in amusement and rolls his eyes. As they pull into the driveway, they realize they are the first to arrive, beating his parents home. They exit the car and head into the backyard. The Plinths had a pool, in addition to plenty of yard space. The space was currently occupied with tall cocktail tables, white tents, seats and tables for dining and plenty of waiters and waitresses running around looking busy, sweaty and stressed. Coriolanus nods around the side of the house, indicating he wants to smoke. Sejanus didn’t smoke often. He claims he didn’t like feeling “out of control and fuzzy.”

He still would hang around Coriolanus when he did, usually nervously looking over his shoulder. Coriolanus takes out his dugout as they head around the side of the house out of sight. He opens it, fills up his one-hitter and takes out a lighter. He holds the lighter and one-hitter to his lips, lighting and inhaling. Coriolanus was never one to make a full of himself when he wasn’t sober. Sometimes too much weed would make him tired or head feel foggy, but mainly he enjoyed the slightly disorienting feeling, the subtle euphoria that ran through his body, and the weightlessness.

He blows the smoke out, fanning Sejanus’s face and he turns away. Coriolanus lets out a few harsh coughs. He offers Sejanus a hit but he refuses. A few more hits and Coriolanus can feel the euphoria rush through his body. His head feels like it’s floating, mind clear. He cleans out his one-hitter, putting it back in the dugout, and into his pocket. Now he's got a good high, he can finally enjoy this day. The two boys walk back to the pool area, trying to stay out of the staff's way as they continue to scramble around. Soon enough, Senjanus’s parents pull up and Coriolanus asks to make sure he doesn’t smell like weed.

“You’re good” Sejanus reassures

As the lunch starts, more and more people pour in. Coriolanus’s family arrives, greets him and goes to find the Plinths. Coriolanus sticks close to Sejanus as the pair head over to get something to snack on. The main course wasn’t ready, but off to a side table was an extravagant charcuterie board, with a variety of different cheeses, meats, fruits and dips. Sejanus grabs a small plate and loads it with a bit of everything.

“Oh this tzatziki is good!” He remarks, dipping a pita chip into the serving on his plate. Coriolanus takes a few pieces of fruit and cheese, snacking on them. They find a cocktail table and stand around it. One of the waiters comes up and offers them water and they both take one.

“Is this like a substitute for your graduation party?”

“I wish, but she insists on having one. Oh that reminds me, she wanted to know if you wanted to do it with me. Like a double celebration?”

“We can’t afford that.” Coriolanus remarks dryly

“You wouldn’t have to pay for any of it.”

“I’ll think about it.” He murmurs

Then, Coriolanus spots you and Devon arrive and heart skips a beat. You flow in gracefully, so pure and perfect. Coriolanus tries to ignore the fact that you are clutching Devon’s arm and looks away. He turns back to Sejanus, who can’t get enough of the mozzarella wrapped in prosciutto.

“This is good with the pesto!”

Coriolanus excuses himself, taking his water with him. He wants to smoke again, the sight of you sobering him up, but makes him hate the way you look on Devon’s arm. He goes inside, sneaking past people and out through the front door. He looks out on the lineup of cars surrounding the driveway. He glances around to make sure no one is coming, then retrieves his dugout from his pocket. He packs and lights his one hitter again, taking a drink of water so he doesn’t cough so much. He takes one more hit before packing it tightly once again. As he blows the smoke out, he thinks about just how much not being able to see you at school is going to pain him. Maybe he can visit you over breaks and holidays? But how would he even pull that off? He curses himself. Why can’t he just be this emotionless asshole whose attention was captivated by more than just one woman. But it wasn’t. He loves you. He needs you more than anything in this life.

He takes one last hit, then packs his one-hitter away and returns back to lunch. He gets to the kitchen and pauses and stands in the doorway leading outside. He watches the crowd, looking for you. He spots you and Devon talking to the Plinths, Devon of course cozying up to Mr. Plinth as usual. Coriolanus simply rolls his eyes. He watches you from across the lawn, Devon’s arm firmly around your waist. As he leans up against the doorway, he sips his water and watches you as you turn your head in his direction. You notice his eyes on you and wave. He clumsily waves back, nearly choking on his water. Devon also notices and draws your attention back to the conversation with him and the Plinths.

God, Coriolanus wants you. So incredibly bad. And you look so beautiful in that white summer dress. He wishes he could take you around the front of Sejanus’s house, out of sight. He would push you up against the white wood, pull down the front of your dress and reveal your perfect tits to him. He bet they were soft, and could tell by your apparent lack of a bra that they would mold to his hand like you were made for him.

Then suddenly, you excuse yourself and begin to stride over to him. Coriolanus tries to casually straighten up, trying not to be so obvious about his excitement as you approach him.

“Hey!” You smile sweetly

“Well I guess you officially don’t ever need my help in an AP class ever again.”

“You said you’d still be available? Change your mind?”

“Not at all. Just feels nice to be done.” He smiles

“It does. I had to get away from all the talk. Devon is ambitious about trying to work for Mr. Plinth.”

“Plinth’s company would look great on any resumé” he remarks “But Sejanus will eventually own it no matter what”

“Yeah, Devon is…” you sigh, turning to look at him “a bit silly sometimes…so you want to keep taking science classes next year? “

“A few, but I really want to get more into politics and government when I get to college. Major in political science maybe…”

“Really? You find that all interesting?”

“I do. Don’t you?” He asks

“I find it all confusing really. And I guess those big ideas like that are a lot to understand sometimes, especially when people just yell their opinions at each other thinking they are the right one and are stubborn about their beliefs. “

“That’s the fun.” He smirks

From this distance he can finally see how well your body fills out the dress. Coriolanus tries to keep his eyes on his own. He can’t help that your breasts are so perky and round, that the material of your dress hugs your stomach just enough to barely show him the outline of your belly button.

“Did you check out the charcuterie board? It has some good things to snack on.”

“I got some fruit, yeah.” He remarks

“That’s all?” You chuckle

“And some cheese.” He smiles back

“Well if it's as good as what they are serving then I’m excited. It kinda makes me want to have a board for me and Devon’s graduation party. But if people are only interested in the fruit and cheese then I’m not sure” you tease

“You should. People like that stuff.”

“I guess so.” Then you pause and look at him curiously. “Umm…you smell nice by the way…”

“Thanks. My cousin got me a new fancy cologne for graduation.”

“She knows her stuff.”

“I guess that’s what being a big time New Yorker does to a person. She’s in fashion school.”

Fuck, you noticed his new cologne, just as he hoped for. He wonders if it makes you turn on. Does it make you wet? The new smell of him, so masculine and bold. He wonders.

Before you can remark on how cool and interesting Tigris is, your boyfriend comes marching over, a stern, stone cold expression on his face.

“Hey, they are starting to serve food. Let’s get in line before it’s too long.” He states, grabbing your wrist and pulling you away. You give Coriolanus a somber look before turning away with Devon. He whispers something in your ear and you look as if you’re trying to plea with him to not make a scene. Coriolanus rolls his eyes and walks over to Sejanus.

“Wanna get in line?” Sejanus asks

The lunch turns out to be exceptionally delicious. The buffet was full of summer foods too. A watermelon, feta salad, and an arugula based salad as starters. Then the main course includes a choice between “off-the-stick” chicken or steak kabob, with onions and peppers. For the sides, grilled corn, grilled zucchini with goat cheese and honey, with cut and seasoned cherry tomatoes. Coriolanus tried not to look greedy when filling up his plate, but he was hungry and didn’t get a chance to have such nice food. He put his pride aside and filled his plate up. Him and Sejanus find a seat with Coriolanus’s family and soon the Plinths join them.

The whole rest of the afternoon Coriolanus is enchanted by your compliment. It practically haunts him. It’s the only sound in his head at the moment, the sound of your sweet voice. He imagines other things you could say to him in that same pleasant voice.

“Mhmm you smell so good Coriolanus. So sexy. Why don’t we take this inside” he imagines you whispering to him, taking his hand and leading him away, inside the Plinth’s house. He thinks about you taking him into their guest bathroom, pushing him up against the white marble sink and unbuckling his belt. He was desperate to feel your soft touch, your small hands pushing on his hips, forcing him to take what you give him. Coriolanus would feel overwhelmed, as if the wind and life had been knocked out of him as you slowly touched his chest and pelvis. He would love it if you ripped his pants down, along with his boxers, exposing yourself to him while gently caressing his face.

“You’re such a smart boy Coriolanus Snow…so smart…” you’d whisper, kissing his neck slowly. “So handsome…”

He’d whimper and whine, softly as to not draw attention to any other guests. You’d take him in your small hands, taking his large length and stroking him. You’d stare directly into his pupils the entire time, whisper how big he was, how bad you want to taste it and have it inside you. You’d jerk him off until he came, quickly getting down on your knees to swallow as to leave no mess on the polished, porcelain tiles…

“Man Ma chose a good catering company this time. Much better than the one we used for New Years!” Sejanus speaks up, breaking Coriolanus’s vision of you.

He looks up and nods and he takes another bite of chicken. He tries to hide his discontent, not only at his friend for interrupting his thoughts, but also the way Sejanus talks about his lifestyle. As if it was normal to hire catering and throw a party for every holiday or important life event. It was something the Plints became known for in addition to their electrical empire. Especially Mrs. Plinth, who usually threw an end of the year pool party but felt as if a lunch was more fitting to “watch our children start the journey as adults.” Frankly, Coriolanus missed the pool party. Not only because it would give him an opportunity to look at you in a bikini, but he hated formal events.

He glances up and watches you take a seat next to Devon. He sighs and eats some more chicken, trying to savor the peppers and onions. Thankfully he was able to hide his slow growing erection under the table and as he finished his food, it died down. Still, he couldn’t help but feel slightly shameful. You had no idea though. No idea what the thought of you does to him. He knows there’s only one way to truly conquer his emotions, but knows that as long as Devon was around, it was a hopeless pursuit.

꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[blindmagdalena]

Say It (chapter three)

18+ 6.3k homelander x f!reader. comeplay, lite blood, mirror sex, penetrative sex, fingering, lite dacryphilia, praise kink, instances of sublander, overstim, dirty talk, angst. chapter index. AO3.

There is an undeniable primal violence to love. It can bring out the very best in us as easily as it can bring out the very worst. In the wake of Homelander's constant oppressive brand of love, you have uncovered aspects of yourself that might have been better left buried.

You’re not sure how to describe the relationship you have with Homelander. In the beginning, you felt like an object to him. Something to squeeze and use when he needed relief. Ever since that incident in the not-so-empty hall, however, the dynamic between you has been markedly different. You practically live with him now, spending most of your days sequestered in his penthouse like Rapunzel in her tower.

Now, you’re closer to his… partner? Girlfriend? None of the words feel right for what happens between the two of you. He showers you with gifts, with love and attention. Anything you ask, he provides. In turn, he confesses things to you that would turn America upside down. He has burdened you so heavily with his sins that you feel the weight of them upon your shoulders as if they’re yours. Sometimes, when he tells you what his hands have done, you can feel the blood warm and wet on your own hands.

Tonight, you’re at his side at a private Vought evening affair. Your first public appearance. He introduces you to people as his date, but doesn’t elaborate any further, deflecting effortlessly when people ask for details. It makes you two the talk of the evening. Homelander is America’s most eligible bachelor, and you’re no one at all by comparison. So, naturally, the second Homelander leaves you alone to get some air on the large patio balcony, you’re approached.

“Hey, this seat taken?” The man asks, smiling down at you. He has his hand perched on the back of both the bar stool next to you as well as the back of your chair, his arm close enough that you can smell the spice of his cologne. It sets off alarm bells in your mind, but you know that the people here are important people. You haven’t met this man. For all you know, he’s significant to Vought in some way. You’re not just here as yourself; you’re here as Homelander’s date. What you say and do will reflect on him. You must take too long to respond, because the man clicks his tongue. “If it is–” “No, it isn’t,” you say, glancing towards the balcony doors. They’re closed. No sign of him. The evening is chilly, and only the two of you seem foolish enough to lounge outside. You look back at the man. “Go ahead,” you say, turning back to the counter overlooking the city, where you have both hands cupped around the drink you finished a few minutes ago. There’s a beat of dense silence before the man offers, “Can I treat you to a refill?” You blink, looking over at him. “It’s an open bar.”

That causes him to bark out a laugh. “Okay, touché. Can I go order you another, then?” “Is there something about me that screams ‘help, I’ve finished my drink and I’m too stupid to order another’?” You ask, frowning. Is he trying to flirt with you? He must have seen you with Homelander. The man has been showing you off on his arm for the majority of the night. He’s either oblivious, or an idiot. Regardless, you know how this could end. He needs to leave you alone. Unperturbed, the man laughs again, more surprised this time. He gives a soft whistle, pulling you from your thoughts. “Damn, you’re sharp. Most women would have just taken the drink by now,” he says, obviously trying to be playful. He throws in a wink for good measure. “C’mon, lemme order you a drink.”

It takes everything in you not to roll your eyes, remembering that you’re trying to be civil while you dissuade him from a potentially gruesome death. “They were probably afraid of saying no to you. Do you always badger women into accepting drinks from you?” The man turns in his seat, his knees nearly brushing the side of your thigh. He leans forward slightly. “Are you always this mean, or am I special?” He asks. The only thing sharper than his expensive looking suit is the line of his predatory smile. There was a time when a man like this would intimidate you, but you know something he doesn’t. There’s a much bigger shark in the water. You wonder if that shark is watching. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me what could make you special in a room full of superheroes?” You ask, rapidly losing the thin veneer of politeness you intended to uphold. The man watches you in a way that’s all too familiar to you. You’re not a person to him, he hasn’t even asked your name. You’re just a conquest to be won, an opposing force to be subjugated. Looks like you’ve hit a nerve. You can see it in the way his smile frays at the edges. Men like him are so predictable.

“Is that why you’re here with mister America himself?” Ah. There it is. “Does it make you feel real special? Real above the rest of us mere mortals?” The man asks with a slow building derision dripping from each word. He never loses that smile, but it’s beginning to look more like the gesture you know it is: he’s bearing his teeth at you. It’s funny how easy it is to reduce men to this now that you’ve seen what the worst of it can look like. This man doesn’t scare you. He can’t touch you. You are above him. You lean in. “Which answer will ensure you stop talking to me?” “You can leave any time,” he says, as if you’re the one who invaded his space in the first place. “Unless you’re looking for something.” You startle when he puts his hand on your knee, sliding up to your thigh. “That boy scout not fuck you right?” The motherfucker looks so pleased with himself. How long has he been waiting to say that? You feel your skin itch, your blood turning hot beneath it. His hand feels a scalding, noxious thing on your leg, even through the fabric of your dress. You feel sick, paralyzed with the magnitude of your own anger welling up in the back of your throat like bile. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, the drums of war to come.

Like something wild, with fangs and claws, you very nearly pounce him. The only thing that stops you is a sudden weight on the back of your neck, a Titanous grip that keeps you firmly in place. Homelander’s shadow falls over you both, and by the time the man realizes it, he snatches his hand away from your leg too little too late. You have no idea how long Homelander's been watching. “Hey, babe,” he greets you, his tone falsely jovial. You’re not sure if he’s jumping to conclusions, or if he heard the exchange. He’s wearing a broad, manic kind of smile, his hand sliding from your neck to your shoulder, the weight of it a strange comfort. You reach up instinctively to cover it with your own, sinking in against his side.

Better the devil you know.

“Hey, I know you,” Homelander continues, pointing to the man sitting next to you, his eyes narrowing in recognition. “You’re Jeff, aren’t you? Yeahh, yeah, Jeffery Brimham. You’re the new CFO over at Superplastic, huh?” Jeff, whose skin has broken into a fine sheen of sweat in the time that Homelander has been speaking, stands up with a smile that is no longer predatory, but placating. Although he is taller than Homelander, his body language makes him seem so… small. The immediate change in his mannerisms grates on you like nails clawing down a chalkboard. His spine is so rigid, you’re overwhelmed by the visceral urge to snap it.

”Yes, yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Jeff says. He has the nerve to shoot you a glance, begging you with his eyes. Please, his expression screams, his smile tense and polite while your teeth gnash behind your lips. I was only messing around. He gestures to you. “I was just getting acquainted with your lovely date here.” “You don’t say!” Homelander goes on, that smile only growing more disconcerting. Without missing a beat, he asks, “What’s her name?” Jeff’s smile falters. “Ah, I… I hadn’t had the chance to–” “Weeell, I just think if you’re acquainting yourself, you oughta ask someone’s name first, right, Jeffery?” He prompts, grin never lessening, though you think Jeff is beginning to see it for what it is. A threat. “But hey, maybe that’s just my inner boy scout talking.”

The color drains from Jeff’s face in an impressive sweep. It satisfies something in your churning gut. Instead of the dread you normally feel when Homelander begins menacing someone in your presence, you feel the white hot stab of conviction lance through you. He’s a fucking liar, and he expected to get away with it. It’s not surprising: how many women has he pulled this little power trip on? A dozen? A hundred? What would he have done to your drink if you had let him get you one? Homelander would never let that happen, but no one else has Homelander.

Only you do. Only you have his protection… and his violence.

It’s satisfying to watch Jeff be so thoroughly emasculated by Homelander’s mere presence, but ultimately, you know it’s a hollow victory. You may walk away from this encounter vindicated, but what happens to the woman after you? Jeff doesn’t seem the kind of man to have his ego gutted, and come out of it a better, more humble man. No, he’ll find someone like you, but even more vulnerable. He’ll order them a drink, he’ll frighten them, and he’ll hurt them the way you know he was imagining hurting you.

All because he wanted to take Homelander’s squeeze down a peg. Prove himself a social equal.

This man is dangerous. He doesn’t deserve an ounce of what he has.

Standing from your chair, you lean in towards Homelander, and whisper at a volume you know only he will hear, “I want you to kill him.”

The shift in Homelander’s posture is immediate, drawn tight as a bow. He looks sharply at you, both brows lifted, but it is not a look of surprise. It’s one of intrigue. He’s calling your bluff with nothing more than a stare, waiting for what he thinks to be an inevitable surge of doubt and regret in the wake of your statement.

You stare back, meeting him with nothing but clean, numb resolution. After a beat, his expression shifts from intrigue to that familiar good natured showmanship, putting his attention back on Jeff. 

“Here’s the thing, Jeffery,” Homelander says suddenly, cutting off the nonsensical mixture of excuse and apology Jeff had been sputtering. He claps a firm hand on the man’s shoulder. “Cockroaches. The city’s full of ‘em, you know? And I, well, I don’t give a fuck. I don’t have time in the day to squash every little roach I see.  But my girl?” He gestures to you without taking his eyes off the man. “She hates ‘em. Caaan’t fuckin stand them scuttling around. So you know what I do when my girl sees a cockroach, Jeffery?” Jeff, sweating profusely, offers a strained guess: “You squash them?” “Yeah,” Homelander says, voice warm and low in his throat. “I squash them. Goodbye, Jeffery,” he says. Before Jeff can so much as suck in a breath, Homelander closes his hand over the man’s mouth, snaps his neck, and tosses him over the edge of the balcony. By the time the body hits the ground, a broken neck will be the least of the mortician's concerns.

You throw your hands up over your mouth, stifling your gasp. Though it all happened in an instant, you witnessed every microsecond of it. The fear in his eyes, Homelander’s gloves sinking into the skin of his face, and the resounding crack of his bones. His death was instantaneous, and you saw it in his eyes.

You caused it.

Nausea sweeps through you in a wave. You gag behind your palm, turning away from the balcony.

“Sshhhhh,” Homelander hushes, catching you in his arms. “Heyy, it’s alright. Deep breaths. Hahah, look at you,” he purrs, nestling you against his chest. He rubs your back in slow, soothing sweeps. “Wow! Did not see that one coming. You must have–”

You kiss him. It’s clumsy, your teeth knock against his, but you just need him to stop talking. Your heart is racing a thousand miles a minute, and half of you wants to throw up while the other half of you is enraptured in warped exhilaration.

For the first time in your relationship, Homelander’s power truly feels like yours.

“Take me home,” you say against his lips, giving his collar an urgent tug. Your heart hammers painfully in your chest. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

Homelander lifts you into his arms with surprisingly swift obedience, and stranger than that, without comment. Instead, he’s watching you with an intensity you can’t put a name to. He’s fixated on you, and even as he lifts up into the air with you, you cannot bring yourself to look away from him, either.

He flies you up, up, up, well beyond the horror of what was just committed. The wind roars in your ears and prickles your eyes, but you know it’s not the reason they water. Tears stream down your cheeks, an awful sickly feeling settling in your gut. When Homelander lands on his balcony, you catch your reflection in his glass doors.

Murderer, you think. Your tears run black with mascara, staining your face, as if to mock your grief.

What right do you have to grief?

Homelander steps inside, the glass door falling shut behind him. The wave of heat from the penthouse gives you goosebumps, a sharp contrast to the frigid night air. He sets you down, but doesn’t let you get far. He pulls you in with two gloved hands on either side of your face, pulling you in for an oddly chaste kiss. “God, that was–that was fucking incredible,” he exhales, followed by a giddy little laugh. He swipes at your tears with his thumbs. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, babe. Not for that fucking bottomfeeder. He was garbage, alright? I heard the bullshit he was feeding you, and I heard you throw it right back in his face,” he purrs, kissing you again, each press of his lips a little firmer, a little hungrier.

“He didn’t deserve to die,” you reply dully, hands pressed to his chest. You’re worried you’ll collapse without the support.

Homelander scoffs at that. “Please. Of course he did. These guys are all the same: sick little slime puppies stuffed into suits, oozing noxious snail trails everywhere they go. Trust me, that guy had it coming,” he says, kissing your forehead, your cheek. His lips brush the shell of your ear when he says, “His pocket was full of roofies.”

His words hit your system like a shock of ice.

“What?” You had a gut feeling about it, but to hear it confirmed… “He did?”

“Ohh yeah. Definitely not his first rodeo,” he says, drawing back to look at you. He’s smiling broadly, and as you take in his expression, you finally pinpoint that look in his eyes: it’s pride. Since the beginning, you have always assumed Homelander has a fascination with horrifying you, that he enjoys getting a rise out of you. You don’t expect comfort when you cry. You expect him to fuck you.

Instead, he’s openly admiring you. Brushing away your tears with gentle, persistent swipes of his gloved fingers. He kisses your forehead again. When he pulls back, you can’t help but ask him, “Why are you so happy about this?”

His brows pinch briefly, and his lips part on a slightly baffled little smile, like you’re asking him something you should already know the answer to. “Because, you silly goose,” he begins, kissing you again. “It turns out that you’re just… like… me,” he says, punctuating each word with a kiss. “And it means you’re never, ever gonna leave me.”

With that, he draws you into a tight embrace, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You can feel his contented smile against your skin. Your mind is alight with a static-like buzz so intense, you swear it’s vibrating your teeth.

He’s right. With one simple sentence, you’ve finally given yourself over to his mania. The phantom blood you have felt on your hands is now a real thing. Wielding Homelander like a weapon, you killed a man, and somehow… you’ve never been more relieved. The knot in your chest slowly begins to unravel itself, and for the first time in months, you take a breath that actually fills your lungs.

There is a weight gone from your shoulders that you hadn’t even realized you’d been carrying. As if you have been holding a bow drawn tight for months on end, you have released it, and your muscles can finally relax.

You don’t have to hold onto it anymore. That heavy, aching thing inside your chest that tangled around your heart and made each beat of it painful. You have feared succumbing for so long, and yet now that you have, you can relinquish the white knuckle grip you’d had on your own morality. The bubble has popped, and the blood is real.

The blood is real.

Homelander pulls back to look at you, still stroking you, soothing you as he might a frightened beast. Your breathing is sharp and irregular, and he doesn’t have to tell you that your heart is racing. It thunders in your ears. He cups your face in his hands, and you tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His own eyes are half-lidded, his lips parted. He’s watching you, palpable anticipation in his gaze, though for what you cannot say. Part of you wonders if, now that you’ve surprised him, he’s just waiting to see what you’ll do next.

You brace your hands on his chest. “Take off your clothes.” Your voice is quiet but firm.

His pupils dilate. With a twitch at the corner of his mouth, he takes his hands from your face, and slips off both of his gloves, dropping them to the ground. Your throat feels dry. You swallow, watching him peel open the flap of his suit top, revealing the fitted undershirt beneath. He shrugs out of it, and the padded bulk of it falls to the ground with a thump. One by one, he toes out of his boots, maintaining eye contact with you all the while.

His pants are next, heralded by the familiar metallic snap of his belt coming undone, followed by the hiss of his zipper. He pushes his pants and underwear down in one fell swoop, his cock bouncing free, already full and heavy. You take a step back, causing him to tilt his head curiously. You continue backwards, towards the bed, beckoning him with a finger. With that same fixated obedience, he follows you, taking his undershirt off on the way.

You’ve always thought him beautiful in the same way a forming hurricane or an encroaching thunderstorm is. You feel compelled to watch, to witness the creation of something incredible, even knowing full well it could destroy you. Perhaps the only thing more intoxicating is the notion of leashing such a disaster, and feeling it hum at your fingertips.

The back of your legs hit the edge of the bed, and you sit slowly. Your whole body is thrumming, your heartbeat pulsing between your thighs. You want him, and you have all the proof in the world that he wants you. Terrifyingly so. You think he might devour you, tear you apart to your barest threads, if not for the fact he would lose you in the process. 

Homelander stops barely a foot away from you. In his eyes, you see that same prickling anticipation. Your gaze drifts down over the scape of his chest, where swirls of thick dark hair betray his natural coloring. He’s broad, but nowhere near as bulky as the suit would lead folks to believe. He’s lean, his musculature cut as cleanly as polished marble. His hips curve into the perfect V, which guides the eye directly to the heavy swell of his cock.

You’ve never taken this much time to simply look at him. Every so often, you see the muscles in his stomach flex. His hands curl in and out of fists. He’s either growing impatient, or insecure. There was a time you never would have thought a man like the Homelander could be insecure, but you know better now. You know the way his eyes turn glassy when he fucks you, and how desperate he is to hear you say that you want him. That you love him.

Glancing up at him, you see that his breaths have deepened. He licks his lips when you look at him. His brows furrow slightly with his unspoken uncertainty. He cannot read your expression. When you look beyond him, to the mirror above your heads, you’re not certain you recognize yourself at all anymore. Tears have streaked mascara down your cheeks in sharp black lines, and darkened the circles beneath your eyes. There is a sharpness to you now that you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before. It’s like looking into the eyes of a strange animal wearing your face.

“Get down on your knees,” you tell him. His nostrils flare. You see the bob of his throat as he swallows, and then slowly, he sinks down onto his knees in front of you. Less than ten minutes ago, you watched him snap a man’s neck with the flick of his wrist because you told him to. Now, he continues to move how and when you tell him to.

Have you always had this power over him, or is this new? You wonder if, like so much else in your life, you were just too afraid to even realize it, let alone seize it.

You slide forward, perched on the edge of the bed, and lift your dress slowly up over your thighs. Homelander watches, transfixed by your every movement. His breath catches watching you slip your hand into your underwear, the way your knuckles press out against the thin cotton as you curl them, teasing yourself with the tips of your fingers. You massage a slow circle through your own slick, watching the tension build in his body.

With a breathy little noise, you push your fingers inside. Homelander’s eyes flicker up briefly to meet yours, swallowed by the black of his pupils, feral and hungry. His attention quickly drops back to your hand. He tilts his head very slightly, subconsciously angling to listen to the symphony of your fingers rocking in and out of your wet pussy. His nostrils flare on a slow inhale. His eyelids flutter briefly, as if the smell of you is intoxicating him.

“What does it smell like?” You ask, emboldened by his subservience.

“Heaven,” comes his answer, the word a rasp that falls readily from his tongue. He sounds parched.

“Do you want to taste it?” You press a third finger in, rocking your hips against your hand.

“Yes,” he answers just as quickly, just as needy.

Pulling your hand out, you push off your underwear. It falls to the ground, and you bring your fingers to his lips. He looks at you just before opening his mouth, tongue curling slightly, an invitation. You press all three into his mouth, barely getting the first knuckles past his lips before he’s closing down on them, sucking them deeper into his mouth with an obscene noise. He works his tongue between them, greedily licking every bit of wetness from your fingers.

Simultaneously, you slip down off of the bed, and into his lap, straddling him on your knees. His hands move instantly to your thighs, pushing your dress back up when it threatens to cover them again. His hands are impossibly warm, fingertips sinking into the beginning swell of your ass.

Reaching between your bodies, you curl your fingers around his shaft, and hold him steady. He lets out an answering moan around your fingers, blinking his eyes open. He’s flushed, eyes glazed over with the depth of his arousal. Holding his gaze, you lower yourself until the head of his cock presses to your cunt with a wet noise. You feel his teeth graze your fingers precariously, another moan muffled by them rocking in and out of his mouth. He pants fervently through his nose, brows tightly pinched.

You sink down just enough to feel the head of his cock begin to breach you before you lift back up, and then drop back to precisely the same level. You do this again and again, tormenting him with the soaking wet kiss of your pussy, each press louder than the last. He gives a pitchy noise wrung from the back of his throat, dull fingernails biting crescent dents into your soft skin. 

And then, all at once, you drop your weight down and envelop him fully, gasping at the shocking, abrupt fullness of him inside you. Homelander makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a growl, and a sudden sharp pain has you yanking your fingers out of his mouth, leaving a trail of blood dripping from his lips. “Ah, f-fuck, fuck, m’sorry,” he rasps, licking his lips of the crimson spill. “Sorry.”

You stare at the blood dripping down your fingers. Numbly, you wipe them on your dress. Homelander, through the haze of pleasure and desire, looks distantly confused by your response–or rather lack thereof–but he does not protest when you kiss him, licking the taste of your own blood and slick from his mouth.

Heedless of the blood you smear, you cup the sides of his face and begin to grind against him, adjusting to the aching fullness. He’s so wholly at your mercy that you can’t be bothered by the too-full hurt of your cunt or the sting of your bitten fingers. You focus instead on the way he huffs, expression knotted up like you’re the one who has wounded him.

“Fuck me,” you tell him breathlessly. Instantly, he snaps his hips up, shocking a fractured moan from you. He takes hold of your thighs and yanks you up, lifting off of his knees into the air. Your stomach flips with the feeling of weightlessness that hits before he lands back on his feet, hitching your legs around his waist. He sinks even deeper into you in this position. Homelander’s breaths are ragged, his strength barely contained while he bounces you on his cock. He doesn’t so much as break a sweat. You weigh nothing to him: the entirety of his exertion comes from trying not to break you.

“B-bed,” you tell him, unable to help but stutter with the way his cock is pounding into your cervix. He listens regardless, though he barely even stops fucking you to lay you on the bed. Beyond him, you lock eyes with yourself in the mirror above the bed. You watch yourself push your hands into his hair, staining his golden locks with your blood. You watch the muscles in his back ripple with every thrust. He’s holding you with fervency, one hand locked on your thigh while the other cradles the back of your neck.

The way he fucks you is animalistic, deep thrusts with little rhythm to them. You give his hair a sharp yank, and he lifts to meet your gaze, his own eyes bleary, clouded with lust.

“You love me?” You ask, your grip in his hair tight. You cannot hurt him, but you never wanted to. You’ve realized something much more important. You can control him.

“Yes,” he hisses through his teeth, voice thin. His thrusts grow more erratic, the thrum of his body like an engine against yours, practically vibrating with the tension of restraint trembling in his inhuman muscles. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Say it,” you moan, arching your back.

“I love you,” he whines, the threads of control he has over himself snapping one by one. “Hhh, ah, I love you, I fffucking love you,” he chokes out, fucking you with a force you know will leave you bruised. You don’t care. You need it. You deserve it.

“I love you, too,” you keen, screwing your eyes tightly shut.

With that, Homelander loses it completely, slamming in one, two, three more times before he stills, burying himself as deeply as he can into you, holding you against him in a vice grip while he spills load after load of come into you. The sheer heat of it never fails to shock you, the flood of it so hot that it scorches.

Panting against your neck, Homelander gives a handful more gentle thrusts, shuddering through the aftermath of his release. He kisses your skin, nosing his way to your ear, your jaw, peppering kisses all the way to your lips. You kiss him back, albeit weakly, before the shock of his fingers pressing on your clit wrings a gasp out of you.

“You didn’t finish,” he murmurs, rubbing slow circles, firm enough to make your breath tremble. Your cunt quivers around his spent cock, and you both moan. He knows you so thoroughly, knows precisely how to move his fingers to take you apart piece by piece. You feel overly sensitive, already tender from the force of his thrusts, and despite how good it is, you whimper. The noise is just the beginning of the sob building in your throat, tears prickling hotly at your eyes.

Homelander pulls back at the sound of it, his brows furrowing. “Hey, hey, sshhhh,” he soothes, bringing his hand up to touch your face instead. His acknowledgement does nothing but bring your mind fully to the surge of emotion, and you begin to cry in earnest. “Sshhh. Don’t cry,” he whispers, kissing your cheeks, brushing away the salty streaks of your tears with his lips.

“I killed him,” you sob, taking in a ragged breath. “Oh my god, I killed him. I killed a person,” you keen, trying to twist away from the warmth of Homelander’s lips, the mint of his breath, but he holds you firmly in place.

“He would’a done worse to you,” Homelander reasons. You know he means this as a comfort. “You, and a whole lotta girls like you,” he says, continuing to kiss away your tears. He licks his lips. “You didn’t kill a person. You put down a sick dog.” You can feel his smile when he presses his lips to your jaw, your cheek, your forehead, like he simply can’t help himself. His pleasure is palpable. “You saved people.”

He kisses your mouth, and you don’t fight him. You close your eyes against the flow of your tears, and slip both hands into his hair, grabbing a tight hold of it. You kiss him hard, craving the same relentlessness he had fucked you with, but his lips remain infuriatingly soft against yours. You buck your hips just to feel the dull ache of your bruising, but he stops you short with a hand on your hip, pins you to the bed.

“Stop punishing yourself,” he says against your lips, tenderly kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ll give you what you deserve.”

Your breath catches at the slip of his fingers back at your clit, coaxing a reluctant, trembling moan from you. He trails kisses down your neck, down to the neckline of your dress. As he descends, his cock gently falls from inside you. You feel the absence like an ice cold wound, a painful loss that drips from you. He doesn’t leave you longing, however. Pushing your dress up over your waist, he nestles himself between your legs, and slips his fingers into your leaking pussy, pushing them in with a wet squelch.

In the mirror above, you focus intently on the back of his head between your thighs. You’re not ready to look back into the eyes of your alien reflection. Instead, you let yourself focus on the slide of his fingers, and the sparks he ignites inside you when he crooks them just so. You exhale a shaky, pleased sigh.

“That’s it,” he coos, stroking your thigh with his other hand. “Let it go, pretty girl. Gonna make you feel so fucking good, you’re not even gonna remember who you are.” You wonder if he realizes the gravity of the appeal in what he’s saying, or if it’s simply his bravado speaking. Is this arrogance, or does he recognize the look of someone who hates what they see in the mirror well enough to know exactly what to say?

All logical thought falls away at the first hot, breathy swipe of his tongue. Your hips jerk, but yet again, he keeps you pinned. His fingers rock leisurely in and out of the creamy wet mess he’s made of your cunt, scissoring slowly on every outward pull. He swirls his tongue in figure-eights on your clit before eventually sucking it between his lips. You make a noise halfway between a moan and a sob, throat tight. 

You focus on the noise his fingers make fucking in and out of you, on the subtle way he hums while he devours not only you, but the dripping mess of his own come. His tongue occasionally dips down when his fingers pull back, and you can feel him licking at your cunt, lapping up his and your juices from between his fingers, insatiable for your combined taste.

“Ffffffuck,” he sighs, nuzzling at your clit, slurping and even gently nipping at you. “Taste like an angel. Like heaven.”

The devil was an angel once, you suppose. Was this corruption just as inevitable?

Homelander pushes three fingers in deep, and you reward him with a full, throaty moan.

“Good girl,” he purrs, pumping his fingers slowly and deliberately. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t’cha, sweetheart? When you do, I want you to scream my name, alright? Scream it like it’s the only one you know,” he says, his voice frayed at the edges. He sounds far too riled up for a man who only just came inside you.

He only stops speaking to drag his tongue over your clit, or suck on it. He murmurs an endless litany of praise and filth into the space between your thighs, holding you steady as you tremble. There’s a pressure building within you so intense, the muscles in your stomach contract uncontrollably. It’s too much, the slow drag of his fingers sweet as sugar against the tender, convulsing walls of your cunt. You slip your hands into his hair, and though you can feel yourself babbling, you’re completely unaware of what you’re saying. You might be begging, or for all you know, reciting the pledge of allegiance. You don’t know, you don’t care. You’re wholly consumed by the warm, wet slide of his tongue, the rumble of his words against your skin, and the sinuous pull of his fingers.

Climax hits you like an earthquake, an immeasurable force that rips up through the very core of you, and when it does, you do as you were told, and you scream Homelander’s name.

The waves of pleasure that follow are indescribable. You’re battered relentlessly by pulse after pulse of tingling sensation, goosebumps prickling over every inch of your body. Your body jumps in time with each throb, and the only thing that keeps you from curling in on yourself is Homelander’s hand pressed to your stomach, holding you down while he continues to lick leisurely at your throbbing clit.

You’re crying again, fat tears rolling down from your eyes into your hairline. It isn’t grief, at least not exclusively. You feel like you’ve been untethered from reality, and every single sensation is simply spilling out of you in every way possible. Your breaths are quivering, gasped beasts all their own. “Stop,” you manage to plead, voice hoarse. “Please, Homel-lander, please–” Homelander hushes you gently, lifting from between your legs. His eyes are dark, his mouth shiny with your slick. He strokes soothing lines up and down your inner thigh while, with his other hand, he furiously jerks his cock. “S’alright, sweetheart. Look at me. That’s it, so fuckin’ pretty. Nngh, fuck. There’s my sweet girl. So… fucking… good… for me…” With one last grunt, he comes again, painting your used up pussy with the mess of it, earning a tired little jolt out of you before you settle back down.

Sucking in a deep breath, he blows it out slowly, sinking down onto the bed next to you, slipping his arm underneath you. You feel like a ragdoll as he pulls your body against his, loose-limbed and exhausted beyond measure. His chest is warm against your cheek, the circle of his arms more of a comfort than ever before. You sniffle, eyes bleary and tired, and curl both of your arms around his middle, embracing him as tightly as your feeble strength allows.

You aren’t sure there are words enough to describe the leaden weight of your bones. Your entire body is tingling like you’ve been electrified, buzzing with static from head to toe. Your mind, however, is blissfully empty. You easily lose yourself to the cadence of Homelander’s breaths, and the gentle way he strokes your hair.

“I love you,” you whisper. It’s a far cry from the power play of earlier. Now, you seek only validation. Assurance.

Homelander hums a warm chuckle, toying with your hair. “And I love you. I always knew, you know.” “Knew what?” You ask, blinking slow and heavy, your grasp on consciousness already leaving you. “I always knew you were perfect for me.”

What happened tonight, what you did, will have to be confronted eventually, but it won’t be tonight. Instead, you close your eyes, and as you have a dozen times before, you simply nod in response, and let Homelander soothe you into a deep, deep sleep.

[musickool]

Headcanon: Holiday Gifts for Keanu's characters.

𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁 ス ˚ ₊ ‧꒰ ꒱ ‧ ₊˚

ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑓𝑡𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑘𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠:

𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑎𝑛

the *stoner accent* murst happy cheery boy on xmas!

he loves, LOVES gifts

christmas is one of his most favourite holidays, or in fact, IS his favourite holiday; halloween just being a close second

not just cause of the food

or the snow

the bodacious music or jolly vibes

or the free school holidays so he won't need to do stupid bogus history homework

but because of the presents!

ted would absolutely love if you gifted him something for christmas

it doesn't have to be elaborate or big, but something that a neurodivergent (/j) rock-enthusiast weird kid like him would like

custom guitar picks, comic books, a bucket of tutti-fruity bubblegum & cheese puffs, cute little stickers, fruit-flavoured candy (not too much though as they hurt his teefies), a nintendo gameboy, drawing books....

he'd also like makeup, like black eyeliner & eyeshadow and a couple of nail polish so him and bill can use for their wyld stallyns performances

gift him some eddie van halen posters, cds, keyrings, trinkets, or any of that paranphelia and he'll worship you for life

oh yeah, he don't play around with his eddie van halen

less you forget that

he'll also love tapes and cds and merch of other rock bands he adores

RUBIX CUBE! he'll love a mean rubix cube as his personal fidget toy 🥺

ted's very easy to please, just don't buy him an air supply or beatles vinyl album

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒

antithesis of ted

this man is the grunge adaptation of scrooge, but with less hate and more indifference

doesn't really care about xmas

mostly thinks it's for kids

giving gifts to this guy will be a little bit hard because this man is such a depressed little nihilist sometimes

he'll scoff and bluff, but deep down his emotions speaks otherwise

he never really states what he like or anything personal about him - he's a very private man with only one thing on his mind (lyke idk saving the world from satan and the apocalypse ???)

but what you do know about him is that this man is a chronic smoker

john would definitely fw a silver plated lighter

like the vivienne westwood ones

or a custom black one with his initials on it

he also drinks a lot of whiskey

jack daniel's? jim beam bourbon? jameson?

pair that up with a leather hip flask and he's good to go

silver jewellery type of guy? mhm!

he'd love a cross chain necklace

like deep-silver cross/crucifix pendant ones

would look so fucking cool on him

silver accessories always look so hot on daddy constantine

other than that, nothing much

he's not invested in xmas but he doesn't hate it

his mind will be more occupied on demon hunting and existential brainrots than that

yet he still has a soft spot (secretly) so xmas with him won't be so bleeping bad

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑐𝑘

pretty normal about xmas

celebrating with him would be so freaking wholesome though

you're so used to seeing john as his stoic dilf self that him being all lovely with you during this jolly season would be a fever dream

giving him gifts would be, again, pretty normal

he's a simple guy, and already rich enough to buy himself whatever, after all, so your xmas shopping spend will be looking pretty alright

john is a traditional manly man so his gifts would be of that orient

he's also a bit old so keep that in mind...

brown leather-strapped watch, woody oak cologne, men's grooming set, a brand new dog that won't randomly disappear after a few months

john is a bookworm, he'd love some good ol' classic fiction novels and philosophical/critical/mindfuck books to open up and out his mind

he's a handy man so a brand-new toolbox would be nice

he's also a lover of whiskey and wine, so again, some jack daniel's or bourbon and malboc or pinot noir

this would be the funniest shit ever but please gift this man a pencil as a joke

i swear he'll be so oblivious at first but when he clocks, this mf will death stare you like hell whilst you try so hard to not burst into laughter

but on a wholesome note, a ring will put a smile right back onto that man's face

like cute couple rings you and him can wear, like he'll smile so hard

a heart locket necklace with a picture of you and him inside

oh he'll absolutely die inside

john's such a sucker for classic romance, you don't understand

he'll love vinyl records of 70s and 80s vintage classics, taking him back to his younger days

john will cherish these well... 💌

𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛𝑛𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑟ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑

the very antithesis of ted

this man is scrooge

does not not care about xmas and probably never will

"mindless fucking consumerism"

he definitely thinks that shit is for kids

gifts for this guy will be as hard as an harvard acceptance letter

90% of the time this man is never really happy

he's either miserable or annoying or insulting or all at the same time

he would, however, accept it, if it's from you

but johnny never tells personal information

he's a very egotistical individual so the most personal you'll get from him is the edge of how big his c*ck is (*facepalms.png*)

𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑎

another happy cheery boy on xmas

and another favourite himbo of mine 💘

he obviously loves xmas

it's the only time he won't have to be digging under trash heaps for diamonds

he's a very weird and random kid so you know he'll like anything

finding a xmas present for him would be easy cause as long as the shit's entertaining, he's pretty much on board

and it's the 80s, so what really can a broke teenage runaway enjoy back then?

but anyways, that's whatever

rupert would definitely like these as gifts: comic books, candy, shakespeare novels, an eight ball, rubix cube, wristbands, money, a crown (???)-

SLIME! give the boy some green slime to play with! (helps with his stims)

*murmuring* why can i imagine him in a skir- yeah give this boy a skirt

and a skateboard

gnarly combination

𝑠ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑐𝑜/𝑗𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟

basic as fuck

these dudes are like the hallmarks of xmas

both are different genres of white men in hallmark-esque movies

standard white guy, 30-something year old millennial who's into sports and having a beer with the boys vs twink stock image standard white man who's a doctor and every old karen white woman's dream come true

one, however, is more generic and conventionally attractive hallmark white male than the other (julian)

shane's a manly man so he'd probably like some fishing equipment or men's grooming kit or some kind of sports team merch

he'd also like those beer keg stands or mini fridges where he can put his infinite supply of heineken or guiness inside

a handy man also so a nice new toolbox too

julian...... yeah julian i don't actually know about

he's probably just bisexual or something, idk-

that's about it.

[myonedream]

⋆‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ♡ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊⋆

“With Love, Jun”

⋆‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ♡ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊⋆

✦ ⋆DNI Minors & Ageless Blogs⋆ ✦

A/N ~ Firstly, I just wanna say I love this man so much it’s insane. Secondly, god this was stressful, I worked on it for, a collective of probably 12 hours or more, idk. Which, is kinda embarrassing ngl. Anyway regardless, I put my whole pussy into this from yesterday into today to get it out in time for you guys (luckily had three paragraphs and the picture already done) so I really hope you all like it! There are some lines that truly make my head spin on god as I’m honestly really proud of this! Also I deeply believe y/n is gonna get a noise complaint someday if they haven’t already. Furthermore, it’s around 6k words if anyone’s wondering!

CW ~ Fluff & Smut! Idol Bf!Yeonjun x afab!reader (they/them pronouns are used & they’re not specified to be a girl but are feminine), Soft Dom!Yeonjun (man is so gentle & sweet), creampie (reader is on the pill but use protection or else!), praise, light dirty talk (gotta have it), use of names such as Baby, Love, Naughty Little Thing was used once along with Good Little Slut, corruption, fingering, squirting, bondage of the hands & feet, use of a collar & leash, y/n cries tears of pleasure, cum eating & spit. If I missed something, let me know!

~⋆ ✦ ⋆~Smut Under Cut!~⋆ ✦ ⋆~

You’ve been with your bf, Yeonjun, for almost a year now, you genuinely can’t express how happy you are with him. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a boyfriend: sweet, caring, romantic, fun, funny and of course, hot as hell. Just the way he looks at you makes your heart beat out of it’s chest. His soft, plump lips making your head spin whenever they meet yours. His toned arms making you feel safe whenever he wraps them around you. You love him more than anything and he’s absolutely obsessed with you in the cutest way. So of course you have many things planned for your first Valentine’s Day together. You think he only plans to cook dinner at your place as it’s just easier to do it there than at the dorm but later find out that’s not entirely the case.

And here you are, sitting in your apartment on the living room floor, the night before the day of love, getting together your big basket of goodies for your boyfriend. Writing out gushes of love on a handmade card and putting on his favorite lipstick to kiss it all over, only to then spray your perfume on it as well. It may be a cliché but it’s something you’ve always wanted to do and as he is your first real boyfriend, obviously you have to do it for him. You finish it and put it into the basket along with his favorite candy, a brand new bottle of cologne, a photo album of all the polaroids you’ve taken since you’ve been together, a heart shaped picture frame you decorated with a photo of the two of you inside it and a fox plush you dressed up like him.

You know you don’t have to do all this, he tells you all the time you don’t have to give him any gifts as being yours is plenty enough for him, but you can’t just not. You’ve always loved giving gifts, especially meaningful ones, so you always go all out for him anyway which he loves regardless. With the final pink ribbon wrapped atop the handle, you pick up the basket, walking over to the kitchen to set it down on the counter. Briefly you look over at the clock on the stove to see Valentine’s Day is already here. You’ve been so focused on making his gift that night you didn’t even realize how late it was. “Shit, I better get some sleep if I want tomorrow to be as good as I’ve hyped it up to be” you express to yourself. With that you collect your things scattered around the living room to place them back where they all belong. Having rushed around the house for the past 20 minutes you finally have it all cleaned up and so you turn off all the lights, heading to your room in the pajamas you already put on hours ago. You come in and get situated in bed, setting an alarm on your phone before putting it on your nightstand and cuddling into your covers, falling asleep.

The loud sound of your favorite punk song rattles through your apartment, jolting you out of bed instantly as you reach to turn it off. The sun peaks through your bedroom curtains coating your room in golden light. It’s currently 9am and Jun plans to come over at around 4, after dance practice, to start cooking so you know you have adequate time to add the decorations around the place and make yourself extra beautiful for him. Regardless you waste no time, getting up sleepily and shuffling into the kitchen to pour yourself some coffee to help kickstart your day. You drink it quickly as you open the cupboards for all the decorations, large rolls of dark pink and red silk ribbon, cherry red lace bows, fresh pink and red rose petals, heart shaped confetti, pink and red light bulbs, multiple containers of biodegradable glitter, etc. Pulling them all out and laying them out in front of you on the counter.

Putting on your love song playlist, you bring out the step ladder. You have a lot of work ahead of you so you begin with the silk ribbon, wrapping it around the doorways and across the ceiling from one corner of the room to the next, lining every room in your 1 bedroom apartment at the top in dark pink and red. In the middle of the front doorway you place one of your biggest bows, sewing on matching red petals onto it to add a special touch. Using the rest of the bows across the house throughout the ribbons and on the bedposts. Then you go around replacing the light bulbs in your apartment, making some pink and some red. You do this everywhere besides in your bathroom so you have good lighting to get ready in and besides a few lights in the kitchen so he has proper lighting to cook in. You’re then sprinkling the confetti, glitter and rose petals into pathways going from one room to the next. Swiftly you bring out two heart light projectors and place one in the living room and the other in your bedroom. Whilst in there you change your sheets to your new silk red ones and place pink heart pillows on top along with a fluffy pink blanket draped across the bottom on the bed. Whilst in there you take white roses and place them around the pillows on the bed. For the rest of the pillows you have, you stick them on your couch. Now you’re placing vases of white, red and pink roses all around the house. Finally you get to the finishing touch of putting up your lace pink and white curtains in your bedroom and living room you dyed specially for this occasion, placing the old ones into the hallway closet.

After all this running around, it’s 2pm already and you sit down on your couch for a second, taking a moment to check your phone to see messages from Yeonjun you didn’t hear the ringtone for over the music. Opening the messages you read:

“Sorry baby, I’m gonna be a little later than expected. Probably will be around your place at 6 instead. I’m so sorry, don’t worry I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you 💕”

Just seeing that message made your heart sink since you know you won’t have as much time as you wished to have with him. Though seeing him type ‘I love you’ made your heart flutter every time as if it was the first. With a melancholy feeling you respond with:

“Don’t worry about it Junie, I know you can’t help it. I’ll still be here regardless. I love you too ❤️”

With that you close your phone, placing it face down on the couch and turn off the music. You can sense you’ll need the extra time so you head to the bathroom to begin getting ready.

You heat up the shower as you remove your clothes before getting in and scrubbing off all the sweat and glitter of the earlier antics. Exiting after 45 minutes of cleaning and shaving every inch of your body, just in case, since you’re not entirely sure what the night might have in store for the two of you. The whole bathroom steamed up extremely so you open up the door to defog, walking out in your robe and into your room. You then enter your closet to pick up a beautiful, shiny white, square neckline dress that flares out in layers of soft ruffles at your waist. The straps just thick enough to look proper with the structured bodice, dress resting a few inches above your knee. Simple but cute. With that in hand, you head over to your shoes and pick up a pair of white suede, chunky, square tipped heels with a ribbon strap. Additionally you pull your accessories out that consist of a white ribbon choker, a pair of silver dangling heart earrings and four pieces of white ribbon for your hair. Before leaving the closet you grab a white lace pair of panties from your dresser drawer. Hurriedly you rush into your room and rest most of all of it on the bed. The only thing not being the ribbons for your hair, still held in your hand.

You go over to your vanity, resting the ribbons atop it and turning on the lights that surround the mirror. Sitting down, you begin working on your hair, which you dyed cherry red specifically for this occasion, curling it in the perfect tightness to wrap into two buns on either side of your head, using one ribbon wrapped around the bottom of each. Both tied with a neat bow. You take the remaining two ribbons and braid one into each thin braid resting off the side of your face, after your tendrils, tying them off with smaller bows. Now styling your soft bangs into an upside down heart shape delicately onto your forehead. You look into the mirror and almost laugh, you think to yourself: “Wow I look like cupid threw up on me.” But still continue in suppressed giggles.

After getting up temporarily to do your skincare routine and brush your teeth you head back into your room to sit down at the vanity once more to start your makeup. Applying your foundation and concealer softly, setting it with powder, bronzing around your face, and making your eyebrows fluffy, full and red to match your new hair. You then blush your cheeks, under your eyes and onto the tip of your nose. Now shifting focus to work on your eyeshadow, brushing on a soft, sheer pinkish red shade all over your lid, into your crease and under your eyes. Taking a pink, heart shaped glitter with your fingers, you press it into the center of your lid and apply eyegloss on top of the glitter and shadow. You also tightline your upper waterline with a matte hot pink eye pencil, putting the same into your lower waterline, dragging it out onto your outer corners slightly. With a shimmering light pink, almost white, highlighter you sweep over your brow bone, high points of your cheeks, down your nose bridge, on the tip of your nose and onto your cupid’s bow. Taking your mascara you apply it on your top and bottom lashes, adding half false lashes onto the outer corners to flare them out. Eventually you get to your lipstick, applying a sheer pink balm on first and then a pretty red in the center in a near heart shape, blending it out softly to give an ombré effect. With one final step, you spray your face with a dewy setting spray with a fine glitter sheen to make yourself shiny.

With your makeup done you clean up your vanity and go into the bathroom once again to wash the makeup off your hands and freshly done white nails. You take off your robe as you re-enter your room, then applying deodorant and spraying a fine glitter mist all over your body. Putting on your underwear and zipping yourself into your dress to then sit down on the bed so you can put on and tie the ribbon of your shoes into a bow around the back of your ankle. Getting up you lean over your vanity, tying your choker on and putting in your earrings. Then picking up your favorite, light floral and amber scented perfume and spraying it on your neck, behind your ears and onto your wrists, rubbing them together. Resting it back onto the vanity where it belongs and turning off the vanity lights.

Finally you’re done as you walk into your living room and pick up your phone you left on the couch. Turning it on you reveal the time is 5:45 and you have another missed message from Yeonjun. You open it up to read:

“On my way, love 💗”

Which he sent only a few minutes ago and you respond with:

“Okay, baby 🫶🏻”

Now heading into the kitchen, you place your phone atop the counter to then pull out two wine glasses and rosé. Filling up both and sitting down at your island, scrolling through social media and patiently waiting for your boyfriend to arrive.

With what felt like an eternity, you finally hear a knock at your door, making your face light up and blush instantly with nerves. You put down your phone and adjust yourself slightly before walking over to the door to open it to your smiling boyfriend holding a giant bouquet of your favorite flowers, a pink gift box wrapped neatly in a bow and a giant bag of ingredients. Almost instantly his face blushes at the sight of you and he goes “Holy shit y/n, you look incredible. You dyed your hair red?!” You giggle and answer with “Yeah, I did it specially for tonight, y’know to fit the theme” as you let him in. “Well I love it, it looks great” he expresses as he walks in and you close the door behind him, taking the heavy bag of ingredients from him and setting them on the counter. The man is turned away from you, looking at all the decorations, in a soft voice you hear him ask “You did all this for me?” “Well yeah, I love you” you chuckle. Instantly he turns around to look at you, walking over to put down the flowers and present box. He then approaches you, his eyes full of love as he cups your face in his hands and leans in so close you can smell his cologne, to kiss you softly with his plush lips. “I love you too, baby” he says in a whisper after removing his lips from yours, leaving a soft pink tint on them from your lipstick. You feel your heart flutter and trying to keep your composure you stare into his eyes and tease “Nice lipstick, Jun.” He lets out a soft laugh and is quick to say “Hey, boys gotta look pretty too!” before wiping it off.

“But I will never look as good as you,” he claims, “I really didn’t have enough time to get ready so pardon my appearance.” You look at him, once again, understating how beautiful he is in a pink silk dress shirt, fitted black dress pants, black platform shoes and his black hair parted just perfectly. “Pardon what? You look great!” you reply with a slight smack to his arm to which you then squeeze slightly to get a feel of. He laughs and goes “Thank you, baby. But not as good as you.” He takes his hands and places them on your hips, lifting them under your dress and up to your ass, giving it a slight squeeze. You let out a slight whine and he says to you “Also, you don’t have to get secret feels of me, just ask.” Leaning in after to place a kiss on your neck, still caressing your ass gently. With a soft moan you add “Junie… dinner.” “Oh yeah, almost forgot” he says as he removes his hands and turns to the ingredient bag he brought. He definitely didn’t forget.

“I’m gonna get a vase for these,” you say picking up the flowers and reaching into the cupboards for your last vase, “by the way, thank you for these.” “You’re welcome” he replies with a smile so big you can hear it in his voice along with the rustling of the ingredients he’s pulling out of the bag as your back is turned to him, filling the vase with water. Whilst you’re not looking he places the ingredient bag, no longer full of ingredients but rather with some special items he hoped to use tonight, in the lower cupboard. You turn around, unaware, and place the flowers in the now filled vase and stick them on the table in the living room, looking over to your loving boyfriend preparing to cook. Finally it seems he notices your basket on the counter, that your forgot to move earlier, looking at it he asks “Is this for me?” You rush over instantly, grabbing it before he can look at it closer, “Yes, but for after dinner” you announce, putting it into the hallway closet next to your old curtains. “Okay, okay, guess you’ll want to wait for your gift too?” he asks. “Yes, in fact let me move it into the closet with your gift” you add, grabbing it off the counter and sticking it in the closet as well. He giggles “Alright but no peeking.” You stare at him as he begins cooking, fake upset and go “I would never peek! How dare you assume I would!” With that little smirk of his he responds “Says a chronic peeker.” “I only peeked once!” Whilst chopping herbs he rebuttals with “It was your birthday gift though.” With a tone of a child in trouble you say barely audibly “But it was really big… how could I not?” He starts laughing at the top of his lungs and asks “What are you? In trouble or something?” “Well some punishments are fun so I wouldn’t necessarily mind being in trouble” you tease, knowing damn well you couldn’t handle a punishment. “Relax yourself, you’ll get some after presents” he says in a deep voice, looking at you intensely, almost eye fucking you the way he always does. You gulp harshly feeling your cheeks light up like a fire and stutter out a “O-o-okay…” “Now come be good and help me” he declares, motioning you over.

After about 45 minutes, you are all done with dinner, well, Yeonjun is done with dinner as you’ve never been a great cook but you’re one hell of an assistant! He made cute, little pizza roses and heart shaped garlic knots from scratch. Fortunately he prepared most of the ingredients earlier today, like the dough and the sauce, to make it easier. “Wait wait,” you go, sprinkling the herbs on top of everything “boom, now I made them too.” He laughs, leaning over the counter, slightly sweaty from the heat of the oven. “Okay, you made them” you confess. “It’s okay,” he says as he grabs your hand and kisses it, “I wouldn’t have been able to do this without my beautiful assistant.” “Thanks, Junie” you blush. “Alright lets get these plated up” he exclaims as he’s grabbing plates from the cupboard. You move the untouched rosé and take the plates from him, setting up your counter as you can’t fit a dining table in your small apartment. Then Jun puts three roses and two hearts on each plate, grabbing a fork and knife for each of you from the drawer in case you need them. Which makes you quickly realize you forgot to take out the pink cloth napkins you bought.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaim, “forgot the goddamn napkins.” You can hear him chuckling as you run to the hallway closet once again, pulling them out. “Alright I got em’” you say putting one by each of your plates. “Now sit your ass down and drink some of the rosé, you bitch” you declare loudly, patting the seat next to you. “Okay, okay” he answers, putting his hands up and moving to sit down next to you. Before he can say anything you’re already shoving a pizza rose in your mouth, sauce dripping down your chin. “Baby, chill” he says whilst laughing and wiping your face for you as you stare at him eyes wide, embarrassedly. “Sorry, haven’t eaten yet today” you apologize. “And why not?” he asks mid garlic knot bite. You sink in your chair a little before replying quietly “Been busy getting everything ready for you.” With a smile he says “You know you didn’t need to do all this for me.” “I know, I just wanted to,” you exclaim, “and you also didn’t need to make these from scratch either but it is delicious, Junie.” “I know, I just wanted to” he replies with a smirk, “thank you, y/nie.”

Once dinner is done you excitedly put the dishes in the sink, hurrying into the bathroom to use some mouthwash, bringing some out for him. “Here, to erase the garlic” you say as you hand it to him, which he gladly accepts. As he’s swishing away those knots, you rush over to the closet to bring out your gifts. Putting the basket back onto the counter, you exclaim “Open mine first.” After spitting out the mouthwash into the sink, he wipes his hands off and walks over to it, saying “Alright then.” “Well there’s nothing to really open but y’know.” He laughs and begins pulling out the candy and cologne, “Oooooh,” he expresses as he looks at the candy, already opening it and eating some “my favorite.” “Stop eating and keep going” you rush him. “Alright I’m going,” he responds, pulling the cologne out of the box and spraying it on his wrist to sniff it, “oh that smells nice, thank you, baby.” “Oh, what’s this?” he asks pulling out the heart picture frame, “aw, you make this?” “Yeah and it’s not the only thing I made” you answer proudly. “Well it’s beautiful and definitely going on my nightstand” he gushes pulling out the photo album and plush. Laughing he asks whilst holding the fox, “This supposed to be me?!” You begin laughing yourself, “Yeah, you’re a fox!” “Is this what I look like to you?” he teases whilst holding it up to his face. “Honestly, yes” you admit. Furrowing his brow he shoots a glare at you, “Okay, I’ll take it as a compliment as it’s really cute and will be going on my bed.” “But this outfit,” he says pointing to it, “is proof that my fashion is truly better than Beomgyu’s.” “Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” “It is!” he yells in defense. “Just keep going and look in the photo album” you respond.

He begins looking through the album and you can see his eyes welling up. “You okay, Jun?” you ask worriedly. “Yeah,” he says softly, “it’s just sweet.” You walk over to him and rub his back, “I’m glad you like it,” you reply in a comforting tone, “but don’t cry yet, there’s still a card.” “Oh god,” he exclaims, “I’m not gonna make it.” With that he pulls out the card and opens it, reading it quietly to himself. After awhile you can see his eyes tearing up again before a tear begins to fall down his face and onto the cardstock. He reaches out his hand and grabs yours as he finishes reading. Eventually he let’s go of your hand to close the card and put it back into the basket quietly, wiping tears away as he does. After he does he turns to you and puts his hands on your waist, pulling you up onto the counter so you’re both at eye level. “Jun?” you ask worriedly. Leaning in closely to you, tears still in his eyes, he conveys “God, I love you so much” before smashing his lips into yours. Butterflies begin swirling in your stomach as you wrap your arms around his neck, briefly he breaks the kiss to say “Thank you, baby, I don’t deserve you.” Before smashing his lips into yours again, getting rougher by the moment, leaning in so close, you can feel his growing erection against you. “Jun, your present for me” you say pulling away in a near moan, leaving a string of saliva between both your lips. “Right, hold on, don’t move” he responds.

Quickly he grabs the gift box for you, handing it to you. You can see the horniness growing in his eyes so you waste no time to open it up, pulling out a silver heart shaped locket. You open it to see a picture of both of you inside, making you blush intensely. “Turn it around” he says to you. With so you do and on the back it says:

“To My Home

With Love, Jun”

With that you begin crying yourself, so much so you can’t even make out any words. Quickly he comes over to you, wiping the red eyeshadow tears away with his thumbs, leaning close to you as he holds your face to say “I know it’s a cliché but I’ve always wanted to do it.” “Funny, I said the same thing to myself about your card and basket” you laugh. Grabbing the locket, he puts it on for you, adjusting it to dangle perfectly. “Guess we’re just a bunch of lovedrunk fools” he replies with a giggle. “No, we’re happy fools,” you joke as he looks at you with a pained look, “sorry I had to.” In a burst of laughter he exclaims “It’s okay, just read my note so I can fuck you already” as he hands it to you. Your cheeks fill with heat as so does another part of you whilst you take the note from him. Your mind clouded with lust as you try desperately to read the note clearly, shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts. “Having trouble reading it?” he teases whilst moving his hand up your leg and to your core, stopping before he reaches it. “Yeah…” you say breathless. To then he pulls the note from your hands, “That’s okay, you can read it after.” He sets it down on the counter as he lifts you up again, wrapping your legs around him and you wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you into your bedroom.

Gently he lays you down in the red silk of your sheets. “Wow, you decorated this place up a lot” he says with a chuckle before getting up and leaving the room. “Jun, what the hell?!” you express irritatedly. Not listening to your protests, he gets out his ingredient bag from under the cupboard and brings it into the room. “Sorry, baby,” he apologizes, opening up the bag to pull out a pair of pink leather handcuffs, “I was just hoping to try some new things tonight so I brought em’ with me.” Your eyes grow wide as you stare at them, scared of what else is in that bag. “Don’t worry,” he says gently, “I’ll go slowly with everything.” “You can trust me” he declares. Though you both have been together for almost a year, you’ve never done anything non-vanilla. You’d be lying if you weren’t excited however, so nervously you respond with “Okay, Jun, I trust you. Go ahead.”

Quickly your boyfriend leans over you and reaches under you to unzip your dress, pulling it off swiftly revealing your bare breasts and white lace panties. Tugging at them lightly he teases “Aw, put these on just for me, baby?” “Y-yes” you mutter. “Not much of a reason to,” he says as he pulls them down and off you, “they were just gonna come off anyway.” You nod in agreement as he lifts your arms up over your head, threading the cuffs through the slat of your headboard, tightening them on each of your wrists gently. “Too tight?” he asks. You shake your head, feeling your pussy beginning to glisten with arousal. “Good” he says leaning down to kiss you gently but passionately. He removes his lips from yours to say “Let me get the ankle cuffs.” “Ankle cuffs?” you ask, you didn’t even know those existed. He nods, grabbing them from the bag, “They’re meant to keep your pretty legs nice and open for me.” You blush heavily as your boyfriend sets them on the bed, they’re just like the handcuffs, even in a matching pink color, but have a rod attached in between the chains.

Leaning down, Yeonjun removes your shoes slowly, setting them on the floor in front of your bed. Softly he adjusts one of the cuffs around your right ankle and then the other around your left ankle as they naturally force your legs apart. He bends your legs at the knees as the fire begins to burn inside you, him noticing instantly as your breathing becomes heavier. “Getting impatient, baby?” he asks in a low whisper. “Mhmm” you whimper, everything was so new, it made you nervous but excited. Your eyes made their way to the bulge in his pants as he continued digging into the bag again, making your pussy clench around the air. “There’s just one more thing but you need to close your eyes.” “Okay, Junie” you say nervously, closing your eyes shut tight. Soon after you feel the ribbon of your choker being untied and another choker being placed around your neck, this one with a long chain dangling down and in between your breasts.

“Alright open your eyes” he says eagerly. So of course you oblige and see exactly what you felt resting in your cleavage. “Junie?” you ask, “is this a collar and leash?” Holding onto the handle of the leash, in the same color pink, he answers “Yes it is.” “Why would I need this?” you ask embarrassed that you weren’t more knowledgeable with these type of things. “To do this” he says as he pulls onto the handle and you feel the collar tighten around your neck. You let out a gasp and exclaim “Oh! That’s new.” It was hard to speak with it choking you but you found yourself enjoying the squeezing feeling. “New but good?” he asks, making sure you were okay. “Yeah, I like it,” you nodded, “but can you just fuck me already?” He lets out a giggle, responding with “Since you’ve been so patient and brave, of course.”

With that he sticks his head in between your legs, letting them rest atop him as he moves up your body to be face to face with you, leaning in to kiss you. Hurriedly he pushes his tongue through your lips, swirling it around yours, mixing the two of yours saliva together. While he sucks onto the length of your tongue he lifts his left hand up to your right breast, playing with your hard nipple between his index finger and thumb. With his right hand he grabs onto the handle of your leash and pulls it, making you moan into his mouth and your back arch. At this point his tongue is halfway down your throat, bulge pushed against your soaking, unclothed core, leaving a wet spot on his dress pants. Slowly, without breaking the kiss, he begins rutting himself against your clit as you arch your back again. Doing that until you whimper out.

Eventually he removes his lips on yours to suck onto your left nipple harshly, making you moan out in pleasure. As well as bringing his hand down to slip his middle and ring finger deep into your sopping cunt. “Oh fuck, Jun…” you whimper out onto his fingers thrusting in and out of you quickly. “That feel good, baby?” he asks lifting his mouth off your wet nipple, feeling you clench around his fingers. “God,” you say in between your moans, “yes.” “That’s what I like to hear” he expresses, holding your face to look at him. At this point your brain is clouded and your moans filling the empty space of your room, the petals of the roses you placed there earlier tickling your bare skin. Nothing to feel but pure pleasure as you lay there, naked and vulnerable to your boyfriend. Just as you thought you couldn’t feel better, Yeonjun starts rubbing circles around your clit with his thumb. “Mmm… god, fuck, Junie” you moan out. As he feels you clench around him, he softly conveys to you “Let it out, baby. Go ahead, cum for me.” As if a dam broke inside you, you feel yourself come undone as you squirt around his fingers that he continues to thrust into you. “Oh Junie!” you yell out as you soak the clean sheets underneath you. “That’s my baby, god, you’re so sexy” he coos at you as he leans in to kiss you desperately with desire. “Fuck,” he moans out in between kisses, “I need to be inside you.”

Without another thought, he removes the roses from the bed and onto the floor so the thorns don’t hurt you. Then he kicks off his shoes and unbuckles his pants, pulling them off with his boxers, revealing his hard, leaking member. Lining himself up with your soaked hole, you exclaim before he enters you “Please Junie, take your shirt off.” “You want me to remove my shirt, baby?” he asks. “Mhmm.” With that he unbuttons the silk of his shirt and removes it quickly, revealing his toned abs. Now realigning himself up with you, he gently inserts the tip of his cock into your pussy with a squelch. He lets out a slight moan as he works the rest of his length into you, making sure to be slow enough for you to get used to his size. You can feel yourself becoming fucked out already as he stretches you open for him, holding your hips for leverage. “Oh god” you moan out as he fills you up slowly.

Soon enough he’s all the way inside you, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. “Fuck, there you go,” he coos as he starts gently thrusting in and out,“god, you’re so tight.” “And you feel so good” you respond as he speeds up his thrusts, reaching down to pull on your leash, choking you lightly. Beginning to fuck you dumb, he pushes his, previously on your clit, thumb in your mouth, “Suck.” With that you do, cleaning the taste of you off him, swirling your tongue around it. Removing his thumb, still fucking you deep, he brushes it against your right nipple, dampening it. You moan out instantly, too fucked dumb to make out anything other than whines of pleasure. “Yeah, you like that, you naughty little thing?” he asks, adjusting himself to fuck you even deeper, making you yell out his name. You bite your lip and respond with “Mhmmmm” as you suppress tears of pleasure from falling down your cheeks. “Good, I like it too” he says in a grunt as he leans in to kiss your forehead.

He picks up the pace, making those red eyeshadow tears finally fall down your cheeks, wiping them away for you instantly. “That’s my good little slut,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?” “Yes, Junie” you moan out. Soon you begin to feel that familiar knot in your stomach as you clench around him. “Aw, fuck baby,” he exclaims, “you’re gonna make me cum if you squeeze me in any harder.” “Can’t… help it… feels so good” you whimper. Tugging on your leash some more, his pace doesn’t slow down as before you know it, that knot unties and you cum harshly on his cock. “Juuunie!” you yell as you quiver around him. “Oh fuck, gonna cum too” he says. Barely able to make it out through your moans you exclaim “Don’t pull out, on the pill.” Which is all he needs hear as he fills your hole with his cum and ears with his moans. “God, I love you so much” he says still pumping you full. “I love you too, Junie.”

Pulling himself out, he stares down at your ruined cunt, dripping his cum out. Suddenly he has his head in between your legs, cleaning up the mess he created, tongue digging out his cum from inside you. You moan out instantly at the sensation as he eats out most of his cum from your hole before leaving the rest in his mouth. Slowly he makes his way up to your face, resting his thumb on your chin before muttering out “Open.” To which you do, making him spit the rest of his cum into your mouth and kiss you harshly. Shoving his tongue in, he mixes his cum and your arousal with both of yours spit, before pulling away. You swallowing instantly after. “What was that for?” you ask. “I had to clean you up” he responds with a smirk. “Think it’s time I read your note?” you ask with a chuckle. “Read it whenever you like,” he says, “I gotta release my baby from their shackles right now.”

⋆‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ♡ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊ ‧̍̊ ·̊ ~⋆ ✦ ⋆~ ·̊ ‧̍̊⋆

[jpriest85-blog]

Recently played @pdrrook VN Perfumare and fell in love with the setting and characters. I'm so looking forward to reading more of this story when Perfumare: Avulsion is fully released.

I'm now compelled to share some art and basic info about my MC.

Name: Violeta Reyes Liz Morren

Pronouns: she/her

Preferences: Bisexual

Birthday: February 23rd

Height: 5ft7”/170.18cms

Appearance: A curvy Latina woman in her mid-20s of average height, with a Bronze complexion and black medium length straight hair. She has an oval shaped face with freckles, hooded eyes, and a full mouth. Normally, dresses in classy feminine vintage style fashion in public with makeup and hairstyles inspired by starlets from the Golden Age of Hollywood.

Notable features: Violet eyes that she normally hides with color contact lenses, and noticeable dimples when she smiles or laughs

Personality: At first glance, Liz comes across as a very charming and attentive person. Which has helped her in her job (both at the perfume shop and her illegal side gig) and staying under the radar. Being observant of people and how they behave is useful for making a sale or determining if they're a potential threat and acting accordingly to try and get the best outcome. Especially if it's a situation where she doesn't always need to rely on her affliction. Liz is well aware she's an attractive woman, and she's not above using it to her advantage. After all, she doesn't always need to use Allure to get someone to do what she wants when a coquetteish smile, asking sweetly for a favor, combined strategic use of cleavage can get the same results. Although she does enforce a strict professional relationship boundary with her clients and suppliers.

While Liz usually comes across as friendly and accommodating, she still keeps others at arm's length due to her past. She used to have a pretty good childhood growing up and was raised in a large and loving family with her parents, grandparents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and a seemingly endless number of cousins. Until she developed her gift and was shipped off to the academy suddenly alone because of something she couldn't control. At first, young Liz thought that if she worked hard and could control her Allure ability, maybe she could come home one day. Sadly, no matter how hard she worked or how well she did all the letters she wrote home, they never responded. Eventually, Liz got tired of the heartbreaking silence and just stopped trying to reach out to anyone. Until Reed started attending the Academy and wouldn't leave her alone.

Now, Liz can count the number of people she trusts and depends on with one hand and still have fingers left over. Although with those few people, she tends to be more open and relaxed around them. Sure, she'll still smile politely with other people. She works in retail, it's expected. However, when Liz trusts someone, she is more expressive, genuine, and affectionate as opposed to the more carefully affable persona. She'll argue with you, cry, make dirty jokes, and ramble about whatever new thing she's passionate about.

Additional info & Headcanons

Both her alias and real names are references to brands of cologne/perfume. Her alias given name Liz in reference to actress Elizabeth Taylor who had her own line of perfumes, one of which is called Violet Eyes, and her real name Violeta Reyes came from Agustin Reyes’ Royal Violets cologne. 

When it comes to Liz's personal scent preferences, she likes using solid perfumes that have a fresh and light scent like in linen perfumes. Solid perfumes travel better and last longer than liquid perfumes and tend to have more subtle scents so they're less likely to overwhelm her sensitive sense of smell. 

Liz’s native tongue is Spanish and she became fluent in Italian due to growing up with Reed. Sometimes she'll rapidly switch between English, Spanish and Italian (complete with hand gestures) during conversation if she's very excited or angry. Normally Liz tries to avoid getting too animated in public because it'll draw unwanted attention, although there are exceptions like when an obnoxious customer crosses a line and she tells them off, or when she's around someone she trusts.

She'll also use Spanish terms of endearment with loved ones. Which makes things interesting for the various LI saves. Jewel and Laurent seem to be the types who'll become flustered, which would make Liz coo over how cute they are. Meanwhile, Reed, who's constantly addressing her with “bella” and “tesoro” is mentally agonizing himself on his save whenever Liz calls him “guapo” or “cariño” in return.

Since Liz was left to fend for herself so young, she had to learn how to take care of herself quickly. A particular skill set she developed was mending clothes and diy repairs. It helped save her money on clothes and repairs around the house over the years, excluding major issues with plumbing or wiring, as she doesn't have the training for those kinds of problems. 

Back at their Academy days Liz once saved Reed from an embarrassing situation when he ripped the seat of his pants by helping him discreetly sneak back to his dorm to change and even mending the ripped pants for him. Ever since Reed always asks Liz for help whenever he needs something mended or altered. Over the years, Liz started getting annoyed when she started feeling less like she was helping out a friend and more like Reed was using her as his personal seamstress. They even argued about it a few times until finally settling on a compromise. Whenever Reed needs some clothes fixed or altered, he has to be willing to do some chores or cook for Liz in exchange. It even worked for a while …until Reed learned Liz also be used to mend or take in Flavio's clothes too. Although, to be fair, Flavio rarely asked for Liz's help in the first place. 

Since Jewel and Reed don't get along, Liz often times finds herself having to play mediator between the two. Except whenever card games are involved. One day, when work at both the Perfume shop and bar was slow, the three of them found some playing cards and wound up playing poker to pass the time. Considering Reed is so competitive and the fact Liz knows him so well, he'd consistently wound up losing against her. The game quickly devolved into a childish argument between Reed and Liz, and in a bizarre reversal, Jewel had to play mediator between them.

Since Laurent is a fan of classic noir films, he was very caught off guard when he first started visiting the perfume shop and saw Liz wearing her vintage attire. Especially on his route, Laurent wasn't quite sure if Liz was real or a dream since she looked like one of those beautiful actresses from classic black and white films but in living color. 

[branded-cologne]

Buy Online Dunhill Moroccan Amber by Alfred Dunhill 3.4 oz EDP for men

Shop online Branded fragrance Dunhill Signature Collection Moroccan Amber by Alfred Dunhill 3.4 oz / 100 ml Eau De Parfum spray for men. We are Branded Fragrance store in new york, USA.

[crescent-nyx]

Jisoo as your GF headcanons (SFW- kinda) - Dropped half of the letters or else it’s too long.

A- Affection: How affectionate is she with you?

Kind of. She does nice things for you, but she’s not really a cuddler. She shows her love for you in different ways. She always tends to your needs. You had a bad day at work and are all sweaty and exhausted? She’ll draw you a nice warm bath with your favourite scented candles and oils. You’re feeling under the weather? She’ll prepare your favourite soup. Jisoo often has trouble with expressing her emotions through words so she does it through actions.

C- Cheeky: How cheeky is she?

Very. Jisoo is a goofball. You’ll never get tired with her around. She’s so funny. Anything you do or say, she turns into a joke. Sometimes it comes off as insensitive, but she doesn’t mean it that way.

“God, my back hurts…’

‘Oh… Been getting your back blown out, huh?”

E- Emotion: How comfortable is she expressing her emotions?

Not is the slightest. Jisoo has a hard time opening up about anything. Don’t take it too personally, she doesn’t talk about it to anyone. It’s not because you did something to make her close up. That’s just how she has always been. However, there are times where you can see slight cracks in her “happy go lucky facade”. There have been times where she tells you about bad things that have happened and where she has allowed herself to cry in from of you, but those moments are rare. Though, they do happen more and more the longer you both are together.

G- Gifts: Receiver or giver? What kind of gifts does she like?

Jisoo is a giver, 100%. Of course, she likes receiving gifts - everyone does… However, she definitely prefers giving them. She’s a bit of a mommy in that way. She’ll always make sure everyone has had their share before allowing herself to get anything. She always knows what to get you. She knows what you like, and she will stop at nothing to get you what you want. For her, any gifts that are actually useful is the way to go. Jisoo wouldn’t want you to buy her something stupid that she’s just gonna throw out in a week like foreign snacks or face masks - especially if they’re expensive. She’d much rather get something she can use for a long time like jewellery or a bag, maybe a new gaming set-up.

I- I love you: Who said it first? When? How?

Not surprisingly, you did. The both of you had been dating for a few months, and she had recently met your family. Seeing her with your family just brought so much joy to your heart. Just her sitting there, helping your mom doing the dishes, helping your grandfather hang his coat on the coatrack, rocking your baby cousin back and forth when she was crying to soothe her… It made you see a new side of her. On your way home, the both of you drove in silence, thinking about your day together. It was out before you know it.

“I love you.”

“Huh?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

K- Kiss: What was the first kiss like?

You were just chilling, eating dinner together. It was that Italian food and wine that made her so brave I suppose. She wanted to try something new, push herself out of her comfort zone for you. The both of you had been dating for about a year. You had never pushed her into anything, never made her feel like she had to. She was comfortable enough to do something she never was comfortable with before you.

M- Memory: What’s her memory like? Does she remember things like birthdays or anniversaries?

Jisoo’s memory sucks. She doesn’t remember shit… Unless when it comes to you. Then suddenly she remembers anything. From the way you like to do your hair, your favourite perfumes/cologne brands, your favourite color, your birthdays, anniversaries etc. Heck, she even remembers your parents’ anniversaries. She just cares so much about you and your life.

O- On cloud nine: What is she like when she’s in love?

For people that don’t know her very well, it’d be hard to notice since she tends to hide stuff. But, when you really pay attention, it’s there… The way her pupils dilate whenever she makes eye contact with you, the way she texts you every time you drive somewhere or get on a flight to make sure you’re okay…

Q- Queen: Does she like to be pampered? The princess/queen treatment?

No. I mean, sure, she likes feeling loved and taken care of, but she doesn’t want you to baby her. She’s very independent, and doesn’t like it when you come home every single day with flowers. They’re fine every once in a while, but not every week. She also doesn’t want you to do everything… Cooking, cleaning… It makes her feel like she can’t do anything on her own. So if she’s cleaning, don’t tell her to sit down and that you’ll take care of it. She is used to doing things on her own, and constantly stepping in makes her feel like you’re not allowing her to be independent.

S- Security: How protective is she? Who’s the protector?

Jisoo can get very protective over you when she feels she has to be. The media can be cruel, and she will NEVER allow you to be disrespected by her fans, haters or even just random people on the street. She has a shit ton of respect for you, and wouldn’t allow anyone to disrespect you. Even if she senses you might be in danger, even if it’s just a slight gut feeling, you bet she’ll be there doing her all to keep you safe. She wears the pants when it comes to security. You mean the world to her, and if it really came down to her, she would kill to keep you safe.

U- Unity: What kind of wedding does she want? Does she even want a wedding to begin with?

She definitely wants to get married, but something low-key. She doesn’t want a grande, royal wedding. Just something sweet and pure, surrounded by friends and family. Nothing more, nothing less. I don’t even think the media would know until months after when people start noticing she’s constantly wearing a wedding ring.

W- Wildcard: Random headcanon.

Jisoo has a secret folder of cute pictures of you, but she’d never tell you. Just photos of you sleeping or from you as a baby or you being goofy while dressing up for Halloween. Just something she can coo at when she’s had a rough day.

Y- Yearn: What are her cravings when she’s having a bad day? What makes her feel better?

Chicken… Any kind of chicken… Fried chicken, chicken nuggets, you dressed up as a chicken… Just chickens.

[writingamongther0ses]

Five Years

Summary: Sherlock Holmes receives a gift for the five-year anniversary of meeting their archenemy.

This is for @flashfictionfridayofficial's prompt! Starring my genderfluid detective and the weird relationship they've developed over the years.

-_-

There was a box on their doorstep.

Holmes blinked at it, sitting innocently on top of the welcome mat that Mrs. Hudson had bought only six months ago. They looked around. It was an instinct and couldn't be helped even though, logically, the gifter was long gone.

"Everything alright, dear?" Hudson's voice made them jolt. "You've been standing out there for ages!"

"It's only been five minutes," Still, they leaned down and grabbed the small box. With one last look out onto the sleepy street, they closed the door.

When they entered the kitchen, breakfast was already nicely spread out. Mrs. Hudson hummed as she set the tea kettle on the table. She glanced up and her eyes landed on the box. "What have you got there?"

"A gift for me," Holmes gave it a quick glance over. Small velvet box, suggesting a piece of jewelry, bare of any decor except for a dark green ribbon on top. Tied to it was a tag. Holmes studied it.

Oh, how the time flies, dearest. Look how far we've come.

If the dearest didn't tip them off, the absolutely perfect penmanship would've. "It's from Moriarty."

Hudson looked up with alarm tinging her eyes. "Oh dear," she said. "Are you sure?" Holmes couldn't blame her for the fear. Moriarty was a master criminal who had, twice now, broken into 221B Baker Street. "Maybe you shouldn't open it."

Holmes gave the box a shake. Something jingled inside- too small to be any kind of bomb but bigger than a necklace. They sniffed it next. Nothing that reeked of poison shot out at them- instead, Moriarty's favorite cologne clung to the box. "I don't think it's anything dangerous, ma'am, but I can open it outside if that makes you feel safe?"

Hudson nodded. "Thank you, Holmes."

And with that Holmes found themselves back on the front step.

The green ribbon- soft and expensive- was easy to tug off. The box silently opened, suggesting it was brand new. And then Holmes saw the thing inside and came to a stop.

It was a pocket watch. A fine thing that gleamed gold and had a sage flower, their namesake, engraved on the front. Holmes picked it up, noting how perfectly it seemed to fit in their hand, and clicked it open. The time was pointed to with elegant hands but, more importantly, there was something on the back.

For My Immortal Darling

Holmes blinked. This felt like an extremely odd gift, even for Moriarty, who had made it immensely clear he wished to woo and wed them. His gifts tended to be more clues and hints to other cases, other criminals that needed dealing with. Why would he send them this?

Time flies...

Mentally they calculated the date and came to a pause. Ah.

Five years, it had been.

An anniversary gift.

Still, it was unwanted. Even as Holmes tucked the pocketwatch into their pocket and toyed with the gold chain, they fought back the spiky thing in their chest. Five years, hmph. They should send a note back, telling him such things were wasted. Especially with the immortal part, that was just ridiculous...

"Hudson, do we have a nail?"

My darling.

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Hay Merry Christmas and because of Christmas, Christmas ask: Kent brothers gift giving: Conner, Jon and Chris all try to find a gift for each other and when they do they do the whole wrap up and put under the tree bit. When it's Christmas time in the whole family is together all 3 boys are excited to see the looks on their respective siblings faces and see what they got from said siblings:

1: how early or later in the month do the boys look for presents for each other and the family?

2: what do the boys get each other?

3: who's more excited to give their gift?

4: how excited are they to get a gift from their sibling?

5: after the whole gift giving and gift opening is done do they all thank each other and give each other a big warm hug and do more stuff and if so what?

Well a very Merry Christmas to you as well my friend @we-cross-universe-king-relate

1) Oh just about the very moment it becomes December 1st, it’s an immediate rush for the boys to find out or guess what they each need or would want and once they get a good idea of it, it’s off to the nearest mall or super store they can find and a mad dash for whatever they search for before it runs out fairly quickly

2) Chris got Conner a brand new leather jacket and Jon a safe experiment chemical set. Jon in turn got Conner some brand new state of the art sunglasses straight from the best store in Metropolis while for Chris a new Burnt Orange and Dark Blue cape that can easily attach to his Nightwing outfit. Then there’s Conner as he gets for Jon a mini jacket of his own based on the classic while Chris can be given some string smelling yet expensive cologne.

Chris might’ve been a bit confused about the cologne as Conner’s little tag on it reads “Trust me, you’re nearing high school and sooner or later you need to let the ladies know you’re cool soon enough” but he still takes it cause it’s better than nothing

3) Chris most certainly loves the feeling of giving his brothers what he has as they’ve been so close and well loving to him through the years. It’s just a matter of how much love he truly has for them in all that time which he feels he cannot give enough of.

4) In Turn, Jon is burning from the inside on how much he’d like to have his presents when the day comes. He can be patient but it’s only so much. The fact the gift wrapping they all agree to has lead so Jon can’t see right through only builds up that feeling further

5) Oh me oh yes very much a solid Yes they do that and Martha later has the boys pose for some photos with said gifts in their hands and the biggest brightest smiles on their faces imaginable, for frankly very darn good reasons

[puff-mmd]

👁️👁️

Kaisei - phone has a hot pink silicone case to protect it and screen protector that's definitely cracked in a couple places. he keeps his phone pretty up to date because of how he uses it sometimes for streaming and of course for work. his lockscreen is always a photo of him and ciro, and his wallpaper he sets with fanart that people make for him (both get rotated with new pictures, but he likes to keep the theme of couple photo and fanart) - he actually has a desktop computer (again for streaming). not sure if he actually has a laptop or anything. his desktop however is pretty nice, he needs it to be able to handle streaming and running video games. - he does not have a car of his own!! he has a license (per his mom wanting him to have it in case of emergencies), but he prefers to walk or take public transportation to get around (which is viable in his urban setting). after meeting ciro, he takes up both keeping his car neat and also adding little decorations here and there (with ciro's permission of course) - backpack is entirely a statement piece combined with functionality. hot pink with blue trim and lots of little trinkets, patches, and baubles all over it. inside is usually a change of clothes, snacks, and back up hygiene products (cologne/body spray, deodorant, spare tooth brush and toothpaste, facial wipes). he keeps these to freshen up during or after photo shoots. he is always prepared for Anything to happen.

Ciro - black and neon green trimmed phone case, also silicone and practical. his phone is probably not as up to date because he uses it for work first and foremost, and it doesn't need to be that fancy. his lock screen is also likely a photo of him and kaisei, or sometimes just a picture of kaisei, but his home screen is probably some default minimal design - he doesn't bother with customizing it much beyond wanting to see his bf's cute face. - he definitely has a macbook or some kind of laptop, as he brings it between home and the office often. he also has two pen tablets, one with a display at work and a regular pen tablet at home to save space. they aren't super high end, just enough to get the job done (are you understanding that ciro is a functionality over appearances kind of person when it comes to anything but his designs, which must prioritize looks and function equally) ((this is why his clothing is popular, it looks gorgeous and also works)) - idk much about cars, but he has something practical and sleek. you must know though that before meeting kaisei, he would keep the most random assortments of things in his car. sketchbooks that he's half worked in. bolts of fabric samples laying in the backseat. a spare sewing kit that somehow got opened and spilled thread all over the floor in the back. the mysterious mannequin in the trunk that ciro will take home with him when yoai kicks him out of the office but he needs to finish this mock up before the end of the week. after he meets kaisei, he has someone to keep him in check about all the random debris in the car. he also acquires several decorative stickers and mirror air fresheners. thank you, kaisei. - ciro has a plain black backpack, but similar to kaisei's, he's decked it out. there's patches from brands he's collabed with, metal decorations like safety pins and keychains, and inside he keeps a spare journal with a section for sketches and a section for design notes. there's several stray markers, pencils and pens in the pockets, and it's where he keeps a miniature digital tablet that connects to his phone that kaisei bought for him as a gift, but guiltily never really uses (he prefers pen and paper when it comes to sketching out spontaneous ideas)

i think we as a society need to use cell phones/laptops/cars/backpacks to flesh out characters

[nunez1020]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Jordan Cologne Gift Set.

[fragrance-rack-shop]

Luxury Men's Fragrances on Sale at Fragrance Rack Shop

Choosing the right fragrance is an essential part of personal style. A signature scent can leave a lasting impression, elevate your mood, and even boost your confidence. At Fragrance Rack Shop, we understand the importance of finding the perfect men’s fragrance, which is why we offer an extensive selection of men's fragrances on sale to suit every taste and occasion. Whether you're a fan of classic, fresh, or modern scents, our collection has something for everyone at unbeatable prices.

Why Choose the Right Fragrance?

A well-chosen fragrance has the power to transform how you feel throughout the day. Just like the clothes you wear, your scent says a lot about you. A sophisticated cologne can make you feel more confident, while a refreshing, lighter scent can be perfect for casual settings or warm weather. The right fragrance can also create a strong emotional response, both for you and those around you. With so many different options available, it's easier than ever to find a scent that resonates with your personality.

At Fragrance Rack Shop, we make it simple to find premium scents that align with your style preferences, all at a fraction of their original cost. If you're looking to buy men’s perfume for yourself or as a gift, our selection is curated to provide both value and quality.

Luxury Perfumes for Him: Elevate Your Everyday

When it comes to fragrances, there’s no better feeling than finding one that truly matches your vibe. Our collection of luxury perfumes for him is carefully chosen to offer men the very best in premium scents, without having to break the bank. Luxury doesn’t have to come with an enormous price tag, especially when you can enjoy fantastic discounts on some of the top designer brands.

Whether you’re drawn to deep, woody tones, vibrant citrus notes, or something a little more exotic, our range of high-end fragrances will elevate your personal scent game. Investing in a luxury fragrance doesn’t just mean purchasing a scent—it means investing in an experience that transforms your daily routine into a moment of indulgence. It's about that feeling you get when you put on your favorite suit, or step out for the night knowing you smell just as good as you look.

High-End Men's Cologne: A Touch of Sophistication

If you're someone who enjoys the finer things in life, then our collection of high-end men’s cologne is sure to impress. High-end colognes are crafted with rare ingredients, allowing for more nuanced and layered scents. These premium fragrances often develop over time, giving off different notes as you wear them throughout the day.

For those special moments when you want to make an impression, nothing quite beats the allure of a luxurious scent. Whether it’s for a formal event, a date night, or even a business meeting, wearing a high-end cologne can give you that extra boost of sophistication and confidence. At Fragrance Rack Shop, we’ve brought together some of the most renowned colognes in the world, ensuring that you find the perfect scent to fit your lifestyle.

Explore Our Collection Today!

Our easy-to-navigate online store allows you to browse a wide variety of men’s fragrances, all in one convenient place. From bold, masculine colognes to light, refreshing perfumes, we cater to every preference. If you’ve been meaning to switch up your scent or simply want to add a new fragrance to your collection, now is the perfect time to explore.

At Fragrance Rack Shop, we're proud to offer some of the best prices on the market for top-tier men's fragrances. And with so many options on sale, it’s never been easier to treat yourself or find the perfect gift for the man in your life.

Why Shop at Fragrance Rack Shop?

We believe that everyone deserves to enjoy high-quality fragrances, no matter their budget. That’s why we’ve worked hard to bring you a wide variety of premium scents at discounted prices. When you shop with us, you get:

Authenticity: All of our fragrances are 100% authentic, so you can shop with confidence.

Affordability: Enjoy designer fragrances without paying full price. Our men’s fragrances on sale offer great value.

Variety: Whether you’re looking for something classic or contemporary, you’ll find it here.

Convenience: Shop from the comfort of your home and have your favorite scents delivered right to your door.

Explore our full range of fragrances today by visiting our men's fragrances collection. There's no better time to refresh your scent or find the perfect gift for someone special.

In conclusion, a good fragrance is more than just a finishing touch—it’s a part of your identity. Whether you’re looking to buy men’s perfume, upgrade your scent game with luxury perfumes for him, or make a statement with high-end men’s cologne, Fragrance Rack Shop is here to help you find that perfect scent at a price that fits your budget. Happy shopping!

[branded-cologne]

https://brandedcolognes.com/city-lust-instyle-women-p-3804.html

Shop Online Sex In The City Lust By InStyle 3.3 Oz EDP Perfume For Women