#renovating magazine

[buildandrenovate]

Find the NZ's Leading Home Renovations Magazines | Build & Renovate

Find out where to get the best inspiration for New Zealand home renovations. Build & Renovate Magazine is your go-to source for expert advice, stunning design ideas, and astute information to help you makeover your space. Let us assist you at every stage, whether your plans involve a minor remodel or a major house makeover. Check out our latest issue right now!

Discover the epitome of home transformation with New Zealand's premier home renovations magazines – Build & Renovate. Unveiling the artistry of master builders in Christchurch and Auckland, these publications are your gateway to the latest trends and innovations in the Kiwi home building scene. Dive into the world of expert craftsmanship and visionary design as you explore captivating features on beachside homes, Auckland builders' masterpieces, and Christchurch builders' exceptional projects.

Build & Renovate isn't just a magazine; it's a comprehensive guide for anyone embarking on the journey of creating their dream home. Whether you're considering a new home build in NZ or contemplating renovations to elevate your existing space, these magazines offer invaluable insights. Immerse yourself in the allure of renovation with dedicated sections on renovating magazines and building magazines in NZ.

From stunning architectural marvels to practical tips on renovations in NZ, Build & Renovate is your trusted companion. Elevate your understanding of homes in NZ, from concept to completion. Stay ahead in the world of home design and construction, fueled by the expertise of master builders in Christchurch and Auckland. Build & Renovate – where inspiration meets transformation in every issue.

[fatweb625]

Build and Renovate Today Magazine: Your Source for Architectural Designs and Contemporary Renovating Trends in NZ Homes

Explore the latest trends in architectural designs and contemporary renovations with Build and Renovate, the leading contractor magazine in NZ. Discover innovative ideas for homes NZ, curated in every issue of this renowned renovating magazine. Embrace the essence of Contemporary Design with expert insights and inspiration for your next project. Stay ahead in the world of construction with Build and Renovate, your trusted source for all things building and renovating

[seofatweb9]

Build & Renovate - NZ Leading Magazine For Home Renovations

Find out where to get the best ideas for home renovations in New Zealand. Your go-to resource for knowledgeable guidance, gorgeous design inspiration, and perceptive information to help you transform your space is Build & Renovate Magazine. Let us help you every step of the way whether you're planning a small update or a complete home renovation. Visit our most recent issue now!

[serviceerw]

Construction Publications Magazines Christchurch | Renovations Magazine | Build & Renovate

Construction publications magazines christchurch - Renovate Magazine is the go-to source for home renovation and building business magazine in New Zealand. With a wide range of topics and articles, Renovate Magazine covers everything from building news to design trends, construction tips, product reviews and more. Whether you’re looking to build or renovate your home, Renovate Magazine has the information you need to get the job done right. Get inspired by reading stories from experts in the field, find out what’s new in construction products and learn about the latest trends in building and renovation with Renovate Magazine.

[etherealarte]

[horowbath]

Ready to refresh your bedroom with a touch of modern magic? Check out the HR-J32R smart bathroom mirror!

With 32 inches of double-brightness LED lighting, it makes makeup touch-ups a breeze. Plus, the automatic anti-fog feature means you never have to wait for a clear reflection. Perfect for adding some style and convenience to your vanity setup.

[aroaceawesomeness]

hate it when parts of old buildings are renovated to look modern. And it's always just the lobbies! I'll see a building with a cool facade and I'll walk in and boom, white and cyan hexagons. Then I'll go a little further in and it's like oh! there's what this building should look like! not sure why they felt the need to make the lobby look like it's from a completely different building, but go off I guess.

[decorationinside]

Cork Flooring: An Eco-Friendly and Affordable Choice for Interior Design

[lokischocolatefountain]

Warning || Men Like Me

Masterlist

Fandom: The Last of Us Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: girth age gap, virgin!reader, eventual loss of virginity (not in this chapter), gratuitous descriptions of Joel Miller's body, somewhat creepy!Joel, fetishization of youth, dom!Joel, breaking and entering, playboy magazine, objectification, fingering, sexual discoveries. Word count: 6.2k Summary: Joel's warnings about what men like him would do to girls like you only makes you want him more. A/N: Back in the depths of hell again, you guys. Now this isn't the most depraved thing I've written by any means but it's up there. Come say hi in my chat or inbox, I'd love to talk. Keep a look out for follow up parts and pleeeeease give me comments. I am very very desperate.

Joel Miller was a bad man. That much he knew. 

Even as he fixed taps and renovated houses that were falling apart, he could see the blood on his hands. The very hands that packed lunches for Ellie snapped necks, pistol whipped men, stole from a starving child so he could feed his grown brother. But there were lows even he didn’t stoop down to. 

Not that he didn’t have the opportunity. Men always did. And in this world, opportunities had only tripled. Even the Boston QZ, as strict as it was, had an underground brothel. He knew Tess to frequent it and never asked questions. Sometimes she needed to bury her face between a good pair of thighs and wrap her lips around a pretty pussy, and this wasn’t something he could give her. There was a lot he couldn’t give her.

Being in Jackson should’ve civilized him. It did in many ways. He’d reverted to the southern gentleman with table manners. ‘Yes, Ma’am’ spilled out of his lips effortlessly when he spoke to women. He held the door for anyone walking in after him. He even went to Church– sorry, the multifaith house of worship–to help renovate. 

That was where his troubles began. 

There was no point in him going where people prayed. Being back in civilization did not erase his decades of disbelief in a cruel God who would take his baby and keep him on this accursed Earth. But he did because he was back to being a contractor and Tommy asked him to go fix up the pews instead of him. He didn’t have much time, being a new dad and all.

He was on his knees checking out the rotting wood and evaluating how much wood he’d need for building new ones when he was confronted by a pair of legs and a sweet voice. Yours. 

“Lemonade, Mister Miller?” 

He looked up, his eyes traveling up your legs, bare until he got to your knees where the hem of your flowery skirt sat. Pure, unblemished knees, never taken a fall, didn’t fucking creak, and never knelt before anyone but God. You looked down sweetly, eyes wide and innocent like a newborn cow. Everyone had a kind of darkness about them in this world. Everyone except the kids who didn’t know a world outside the insular walls of Jackson. And you, it turned out, even though you weren’t a kid.

He wiped his sweat off with the greasy rag he carried and looked up at you once again. You had a pitcher and an empty glass in your hands. A sweet smile on your lips and hair falling down your shoulders and reaching your breasts. A yellow ribbon sat in a bow where your neckline dipped between your breasts, adding to the innocence of your look.

“Yes please, Ma’am. Thank you,” he said, giving you a nod. Your pretty plush lips curled up, a giggle escaping them as you poured him a glass of lemonade. 

His hand brushed against yours as he accepted the glass, his hand too large to curl around it without making contact with you. You giggled again before retracting your hand and occupying it with adjusting your hair. 

“I’m younger than you, you know? Don’t have to call me Ma’am.” 

“Just being polite. Ma’am.” He took the glass to his lips, mindful to take only a small sip instead of downing it in desperation. Another adjustment to make when food was no longer a scarcity. Sweet, sour, and salty danced on his tongue before it glided down his throat. Just a sip refreshed him. And the sight of a nice girl didn’t hurt the cause either. 

It’d been so long since he had a nice refreshing glass of lemonade. Summers meant worse infestations of infected, not the barbecues, lemonades, and swimming of past. When surviving each hour was under threat, small luxuries like this became out of reach of even one’s dreams.

“Well, guess I should call you Sir then,” you said, leaning against the wall. You held the pitcher up to your chest and the tails of the ribbon on your chest dipped into it, the soft shiny yellow turning dark, tainted.

His mouth watered and fucking hell, it wasn’t the lemonade you just gave him. He took a sip of the drink and licked his lips, imagining how you’d taste if he wrapped his large hand around your neck and pressed his chapped lips to your plush ones. Better yet, if he held your legs apart and devoured you other pair of lips until you were leaking down his mouth. Would you call him Sir then? His cock twitched in his jeans as he pictured you bent over one of these pews, your skirt pushed up and his hand in your hair as he slid his cock in your hole. 

Jesus fucking Christ! What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Made the lemonade yourself?” He asked,  groaning as he managed to get himself back up on his feet. His knees creaked like the floorboards of the houses he renovated, but ultimately supported him as he stood. He towered over you, making you appear smaller, more fragile. 

“Depends. Do you like it?” 

“It’s wonderful, of course. Hot summer day like this…I really needed it,” he said, raising the glass up a little before taking another sip. 

“Well then yes, I did make it.”

He chuckled, feeling himself pulled in by your easy charisma. It was nice to have normal conversations like this once again. No agenda, no need for establishing himself as someone who wouldn’t hesitate to beat someone up if even mildly threatened. It was just…normal. 

“It’s very sweet, Ma’am. Like you I assume,” he added, mentally dusting off the part of his brain where he stored skills for conversing with pretty girls.

You laughed, holding your free hand up to your mouth to cover your lips that widened and revealed your teeth. 

“Is that the southern charm that I hear our townspeople talk about?” 

“They talk about my charm? I didn’t hear.” 

“Oh yes, they do… Joel Miller, charming pants off of everyone in town.”

“Pants? Well that’s disappointing. I was hoping I’d charmed some pretty skirts off.” 

“Lots of experience with that, Mister Miller?” you asked, sliding your hand over the soft fabric of the skirt of your dress. Such delicate fabric. He could fist the hem and give it one tug and it’d rip right off.

“More ‘n what you got for sure,” he said, loath to hint at how infrequent his encounters had become in the recent past. Tess died, he did a cross country hike with an annoying kid, he needed to maintain a good reputation in his new town. One buried after the other. Enough to leave a man with nothing but his fist and his imagination. He would kill for a fucking Playboy magazine. Literally. He’d killed for less.

“What do you know about how experienced I am?” 

“Been experiencing longer than you’ve been alive, Ma’am.” 

“Oh well. Nothing I can’t learn.” 

He laughed nervously and stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. Surely you couldn’t be flirting… Why would a young thing like this flirt with him? He was in his late fifties looking like mid sixties and you were… He didn’t know. Young.

“If you could teach me, Mister Miller. Give a girl some experience?”

“I’m sure you can find someone else.” 

“Oh. Not your type, am I?” you asked, and he deluded himself thinking you sounded disappointed. No chance. 

He didn’t have a type. Long time since he thought of frivolous shit like that. But you shouldn’t be his type. 

“There’s much more eligible men in town is what I’m saying,” he said, suddenly hesitant to lie. Lying had never been an issue for him. The right thing was to lie, say you weren’t his type so he wouldn’t cross lines. It’d been a long time since he did the right thing.

“I’ll be the decider of that,” you said with a shrug of your shoulder before taking the empty glass from him. “Have a good rest of the work day, Mister Miller.”

Later that night, he wrapped his fist around his cock in the privacy of his room. His mind flooded with images of you spread out for him, sweet lips and a sweeter pussy milking him. He couldn’t even recall the last time he was with a woman. It was Tess, of course. Sometime before she got thrown in FEDRA jail for the last time. Too fucking long ago.

Surely it was only because it’d been a long time since he got his dick wet. He’d never, in his entire life, pictured a woman so much younger spreading her legs for him. Sucking his cock. Crying out his name. How old was she even? Not past mid twenties for sure.

It was wrong, he knew, as white hot spend spurted out of his cock and covered his hand. A sour tang took over his mouth as the fog of unadulterated lust cleared up to reveal the ugliness in his head. He shuddered, feeling like something had crawled under his flesh. He hadn’t felt guilt like this in so long. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong. 

You weren’t even as old as his kid would be had she been alive. 

He’d known men like that back in the day. Grays in their hair and skin like old leather, but pretty young things old enough to be their daughter hanging off their arm. It was obvious that none of them kept these girls around for love or for their personality. It was always sex and the feeling of self-importance when a sweet young thing paid attention to balding heads, beer bellies and limp dicks that needed a blue pill to get up. 

Fucking disgusting. 

He began avoiding you whenever you happened to be in the same space. At the house of worship, the town clinic where you interned, trading days when people exchanged what they had for what they wanted. His eyes never met yours and he always quickly looked away when they stared too long at your uh…feminine features– pretty legs, cute ass, round tits. Where the fuck did you get sundresses anyway? Who kept that shit around in this world? 

He didn’t know that when he avoided you, you took note of him. When he took glances of your features, you memorized his for later in the night when you buried your head in your pillow and pushed your fingers inside your pussy to simulate what it must be like to be with a man. 

He was older. That much you knew from his grey hair, sun-damaged skin, and gait that exuded bone-deep weariness. You knew Tommy had just turned fifty. Hard to miss occasions that meant a free slice of cake from the canteen. Joel had to be in his mid-fifties at the very least. At first glance, he wasn’t what you’d consider handsome. There were younger men in town. Fit and muscular. Didn’t groan and scrunch up their faces when they got up. Didn’t have lines on their foreheads. No bags under their eyes. 

Yet there was something about Joel that was more entrancing. 

After your first meeting when you offered him lemonade, you made sure to visit under the guise of worship. You didn’t know much about religion and were conflicted about embracing a god. The only faith you had rested in your medical instruments and the medicines the town’s chemist concocted. But it was a nice place to meet people, to check on healing patients.

The visits were worth it for a glimpse of Joel’s large hands wrapped around his carpentry tools. When the sun was the hottest, he sometimes stripped down to his tank top, giving you a show better than any film played in the community theater. His broad back looked masculine enough in his flannel shirts. But you didn’t know desire like the first time you saw him in a white tank, showing off his muscular arms as sweat dripped down his tan skin.

When you pleasured yourself in your room, it took time, imagination, your fingers, and a lot of effort to make slick pool in your pussy. That day, all it took was the sight of Joel Miller working. You sat with your thighs pressed together, rubbing them against each other in the most inconspicuous little movements. 

Could it be blasphemy if the God who was supposedly orchestrating everything made this man take his shirt off in front of you?

It made no fucking sense. Joel was old. He looked like he woke up on the wrong side of the bed every goddamn day. He had been chewed up and spat out by whatever the fuck was outside Jackson these days. Hardened expressions, graying patchy beard, hands calloused from carpentry and decades of using weaponry. Features that only indicated a long life lived, not attractiveness.

You were supposed to be attracted to the soft, sweet ones like the guys in the worn out copies of romance stories that the previous inhabitant of your house stashed in the basement. Even his little brother would be a more reasonable target for your lust. Younger, taller, softer, head full of dark, silky hair with few grays. But you wanted Joel Miller with his rough graying beard that would prick your skin were you to cup his cheek like the women on the novel covers. 

Something about him just screamed Man. Something that none of the other guys in town had. There was nothing wrong with any of the other Jackson men, but none of them made you want to take the plunge and lose your virginity. It wasn’t the lack of offers, per se. You’d gotten looks from many eligible Jackson bachelors. You had drinks with a few of them. Dinner with fewer and shared a kiss with more than one. Alright, two. But anything beyond that had you trembling in anxiety. 

It wasn’t anything precious to you, virginity. But you’d waited so long. Focused so long only on survival and then helping to build this town and now training to become a doctor. Whatever passed for doctor these days. With all your life dedicated to everything but your love life, you simply had no experience. What if you messed up and they laughed? You knew anatomy, but that didn’t translate to practical stuff. What if you couldn’t make them feel good? You’d have to see the guy all the damn time in the small town. There would be no escaping the awkwardness.

Sure it was counterintuitive to keep pushing away sexual encounters because you had no experience. But you didn’t know what else to do. You were too old already to not have done anything. But each day that passed with you rejecting perfectly nice men meant you were getting even older for your first time. 

You didn’t know where Joel fit into your need for exploring your sexuality, but it didn’t hurt to stare. God knew everyone else in Jackson did. 

So you stared. Work with his carpentry tools. Riding on horseback into Jackson after patrol. Helping with the fucking sheep. Walking around with Tommy. Carrying his nephew around town. It should be inappropriate to be fantasizing about a man when he was doing something as innocent as carrying a baby. But seeing his large hand cradling the baby’s little head made you want to scream into your pillow and kick your legs. 

“You alright, sweetheart?” 

Your heart fluttered and you let out a nervous laugh at being caught. You smoothed out the wrinkles on your clothes just to make it look like you were alright. Unfortunately you were wearing a pair of fucking jeans. You didn’t even want to know how awkward you looked. 

“‘m alright, Mister Miller.” 

“Joel’s fine,” he said, rocking his nephew in his arms.

Oh fuck, his fucking arms!

“Oh I don’t know,” you said, fidgeting with a belt loop on your jeans. “Wouldn’t want to be impolite addressing you by your first name like that.”

He smiled, recalling your conversation from the house of worship when you called him Sir and had him fucking himself in the shower to the memory. “Ah. ‘cause I’m an old man,” he said, more as a reminder to himself to fucking behave. 

“You’re not that old…” you trailed, looking him over in a way that set fire to every inch of skin that you laid eyes on.

Behave, Miller. You’re out with your nephew. 

“That so?” he asked, eyebrow raised. 

“Mhmm. You don’t look a day over seventy.” 

He snorted, making Miles stir in his arms just a little. That stung a little. It shouldn’t. Your estimation of his age, whether you were serious or not, was reminder enough that he was too old to be lusting after you.

“Thanks. I’m actually eighty-two.” 

You giggled your pretty little giggle, lowering your gaze to the ground and looking back up only when it had turned into a wide grin. “How old are you actually?”

“Old. Fifty six.” 

“Fifty-six isn’t that old…” you trailed as you brought a hand up to his bicep. Joel gulped, praying to the non-existent God that you would stop before praying to the same God that you would keep your hand right there. God answered his second prayer. You squeezed, licked your lips and looked up at him with your doe eyes.

“Checking if the hardware is still working, Doctor?” 

“I’m not a doctor yet.” 

“When do you become one then? Ain’t no Harvard handing out medical degrees in this town.”

“Howard?” you asked, squinting at him. Ah, of course you didn’t know. Harvard didn’t mean the same thing to you. Now it was just like every other building in Boston. Run over by infected. These ones were just the nerdy kind with glasses on.

“That was a thing, too. But I said Harvard. They were big universities back then.”

“Ah. Did you go there?” You asked, with no malice or bite. Oh, bless your heart. No one expected a dummy like him to have gone to university at all, much less Harvard. No one in his family had gone. Sarah was meant to be the first.

“Yeah. Traded some oxy and threw molotovs at clickers in the campus.” 

You rewarded him with a giggle and that was incentive enough for him to keep going. “Guys like me didn’t get into Harvard. Or Howard. Didn’t even go to community college. I finished high school and got a job in construction.” 

“You didn’t go to uh…construction college?” You asked, cocking your head and raising an eyebrow as though testing out the term.

“No such thing. Well, there were civil engineering programs, but I just learned on the job.” 

“Like me.” 

“Guess so. I see you reading from all those fat medical books. But there’s no need to study any books in construction. ‘cept if you wanna be an engineer or architect or something, which I’m not.” 

“Maybe you should write one. We could all do with some knowledge from before. It’s important to document it, pass it on to Ellie and little Miles over there.” 

“I ain’t writing books, sweetheart. Don’t think I even remember how to write much. I’ll just keep to fixing things up in this town. So, if you need some help with your place…I’m happy to help.” It was the least he could do. Maybe as some kind of penance for having impure thoughts about you. Or as a fucked up trade for starring in the mental images he conjured to jack off in the shower.

“There is something, actually. But I don’t have anything to trade for, so I’ll wait until I do,” you said, clasping your hands behind your back and swaying in place in an endearing manner.

“Nonsense. You patched me up just last week. You’ve done enough for the town’s health to not have to trade for anything ever again.” 

“Well, no. That’s not how it should be… It’s people’s health. Can’t put a price on that.”

“Believe it or not, health had a steep price back in the day. Cost four thousand something just to give birth. Double that if they had to cut you open.” And that was just how much it cost when Sarah was born. He was sure it had only gone up by 2003. If he hadn’t worked his ass off, there was no way he could’ve escaped debt. It helped that his Ma and his then wife’s parents helped with childcare. Would’ve been even more expensive without that.

“Damn. I don’t know how much that is, since…y’know we don’t have money now. But that sounds like a big number. It shouldn’t cost anything just to be born.” 

“Tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head. “But listen. Anything you want fixed, I’ll help out. You can give me something later if you’re worried. I know Ellie’s always on the look for new books to read and you seem to have a lot of them.” 

“Nothing Ellie would like. Not like the special limited edition of Savage Starlight or anything. Just medical textbooks and romance novels.” 

“We could trade for the lemonade from that afternoon,” he insisted, desperate to do something for you. Take care of you as you took care of everyone who walked into the clinic be it papercuts or a fucking knife in their abdomen. 

“Alright. Trade for the lemonade it is then,” you said, giving in to his pressure.

“Now tell me. What d’ya need fixed?” 

⌘⌘⌘

It had been a few days since Joel promised to fix your shower for you. Each time he came by and rang your doorbell, you hid somewhere away from your windows. When he caught sight of you in public, you quickly walked away or engaged in conversation with someone else. You didn’t need shit fixed. Everything in your house was perfectly alright. Tommy and his guys had given the place a complete makeover just a couple months before Joel and Ellie arrived. 

You were no paragon of honesty, but you didn’t make lying a habit. There were a few white lies here and there and this was meant to be one of them. It just didn’t fucking hit you that if you lied to a contractor that your shower was broken, he would eventually come over to fucking fix it. All your desperate sex starved brain wanted that day was for Joel Miller to come use his tools in your room and flex those muscles while at it.

So invested were you in that particular fantasy that as you unwound after a long shift at the clinic, it was with Joel’s beefy arms in mind. You stood in front of your mirror, taking in your reflection. One of the magazines you’d found in a box under your bed laid open on the dressing table. Playboy. Entertainment for Men. Each had a scantily clad woman on the cover. And many more inside. 

You made comparisons to yourself and the woman in the center page of the issue.

She stood in front of a dressing table too, but much different from how you stood. Her legs were on either side of her dressing table chair and her hands on the top of it. Between her arms were breasts, big and round and with smooth skin. They didn’t have any marks on them like yours. No moles, no stretch marks. Just plain. And she just stood there, soft brown hair down, tickling the top of her breasts and her lips parted as she gazed at you. No, at the men she was meant to entertain in this men’s entertainment magazine. All she had on was panties that went high up to her flat belly that connected to high transparent socks.

You reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, wishing that you had something nicer like the woman on the cover of another one of the magazines. Bright red and showing off her breasts wonderfully, but pulled down to reveal almost everything. What was the point of a bra then if it didn’t cover or support anything? Entertainment, you decided. Men seemed to be very entertained by breasts. 

Many a man had stared at yours even though you had them behind layers of fabric unlike the naked women of the magazines. Many had conversations with them instead of your face. Some brushed up against them ‘accidentally’. Joel thought he was being covert, but you felt his brown eyes rove all over them. You thought maybe that he too would brush up against it sometime, but he never did. Maybe entertainment stopped at just looking, as in the magazines. 

You wondered if Joel sought out men’s entertainment magazines like this. He was from before everything went to shit, so it was very possible that he did. Did he like the women in these pages, sticking their asses out and looking through the pages at him? Would he be entertained if he saw you like this? 

You didn’t know that if you turned your head to your bedroom door, you would have your answer. Joel’s cock strained against his already tight jeans as he stood awestruck by your figure. He swallowed as you held on to the top of the chair and lifted your knees, one after the other and placed them on the plush seat. You arched your back, a little too much at first before reducing the curve. Your ass stuck out enticingly and he didn’t know whether to grab, squeeze, slap, or spread your cheeks apart and fuck your ass. 

He should leave. 

It was stupid of him to walk into your house with a box of plumbing tools to fix your shower when you hadn’t yet given him a date or time for it. Plus you were avoiding him. Running away with your little friends and picking up stuff to hide your face from his view. He was plenty sure that when he’d rung your doorbell, you weren’t always away from home. 

He should leave. 

Fixing the shower could wait. He could confront you some other day. 

But you were putting on such a pretty little show in nothing but your panties and he was only a man. A bad one. 

His boots stayed put on your hardwood floors as you enjoyed yourself in front of the mirror. You spread your knees and let your fingers between your thighs, eyes closed, lips parted and low whines escaping your lips in just a few minutes. He palmed his growing erection over his jeans, consequences of being caught be damned. He was a foul beast already. What bad was another sin on the list? Besides, you were the one who’d left the fucking door open. 

Your soft whimpers grew into moans as you brought yourself closer and he forced his feet to stay put despite their urge to walk up to you and give you something to really moan about. 

“Fuu– mmm Joel, pleeease.”

He let out a gasp, all his restraint flying out the window as soon as he heard his name from your lips. You couldn’t actually be doing this… There had to be another Joel in town. Younger, better looking, smarter.

Your voice grew needy and the pitch higher as you kept at it. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Gimme it, Sir.” 

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. 

Joel toed his boots off and took quiet steps towards you, emboldened by the filth that spilled from your lips. If this old man was what you wanted, he wouldn’t stop himself from reaping the benefits. He wasn’t a goddamn saint. Never was. 

He stopped in front of you, surprised you still hadn’t sensed his presence. As though the universe heard his thoughts, it had you open your eyes. You gasped as soon as you saw him and buckled off the chair, but Joel caught you. You shuddered, unable to cope with the sudden touch. 

“J-Joel?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, touching your cheek with the back of his hand. You whined, your body molding itself against his chest. You brought a hand to his arm, feeling the rock hard muscles underneath his sleeves and your other hand worked between your legs.  

Your fingers no longer felt adequate as you felt his large fingers on your cheek. “Want you, please,” you whined, desperate to return to the edge where you had been right before you saw him. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me…” he spoke dangerously, soft brown eyes clouded with a kind of desire you had longed to see in him for weeks. 

“Want you…want you to be with me,” you repeated stupidly, your desperation clouding your senses too much for you to say anything else. While in the past you only wanted to get rid of your virginity, your goals had become more specific with his arrival. You wanted him. You wanted his big hands and broad shoulders, to hold on to them as you rode him. To watch his grumpy expressions turn to ecstasy under you. 

“Tell me not to touch you,” he said, his tone low and almost threatening. Any other threat from him, you would’ve heeded. But not this one. 

“Touch me!” 

It was as though something in him snapped at your words. While darkness only loomed over him before, it now completely took over.The hand that previously only caressed your cheek now wrapped itself around your neck. Before you could completely process the move, his other hand slapped yours away. He replaced two of your puny fingers with his middle finger, eliciting a strained moan from you. 

“Touching yourself to a Playboy magazine, huh?” 

You only nodded, unable to form words now that a fantasy of yours had finally come to life.

“Dirty little thing…Thought you were a nice girl and all. Helpin’ out at the clinic, head buried in books all the time. Turns out you actually got your head in dirty magazines.” 

You whined, your pussy clenching and gushing around his finger at the way he was speaking to you. The same man who insisted on calling you Ma’am despite your protests was calling you a dirty girl now. The veil of respectability seemed to have floated away at the sight of you naked and pleasuring yourself. Had you known that this was all you needed to get Joel Miller to touch you, you would’ve done it much sooner.

He added another finger, the girth of him enough to stretch you more than you had done for yourself. You brought a hand up to his shoulder and fisted his shirt, needing something to anchor yourself to. 

“You ever been taken by a man, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone too cool and casual for what he was doing to you. You shuddered, partly from his phrasing– taken, he said. Taken. Like you were a thing. Like the women in the magazines positioned so uncomfortably just so their breasts could look a certain way for the picture. Printed on the cover page with the words Entertainment for Men written on top. You shook your head, feeling small as you confessed it for the first time. 

“Any man?” 

“N-no,” you managed to breathe out, whimpering at the way the bulge beneath his jeans twitched at your simple answer. He took a step to position himself behind you, letting you lean your back against his chest. The angle at which he touched your pussy changed, opening your world up to a wonderful new kind of pleasure. 

“A virgin. Pretty young things like you ain’t for men like me,” he whispered in your neck, making you shiver. His thumb roamed between your legs as far as they could reach, caressed you gently, his softness with you contradicting his warning about men like him. The hand around your neck slithered down your torso, cold air forcing you to face your new desire of having your breath kept hostage. 

He took your left breast in hand, squeezing the flesh like someone starved would hold on to a piece of bread. It felt more like a punctuation to the warning he issued than a part of sex. Just then, his thumb between your legs stopped its search, stopping a little above the fingers inside you.

A moan you didn’t recognize as yours at first filled the room and you buckled forward. Blunt nails sunk into the flesh of your breast as he saved you before you could fall. He hauled you back up, making you collide against his chest. 

You gasped and quickly grabbed the hand between your legs, the sensation too intense for you to know what to do with. His thumb kept on, rolling over something there that set your person on fire. 

“Fuuuck! Joel– I– I– hnnng–”

“I know, sweetheart,” he crooned, keeping at whatever the hell he was doing to make you feel this way. 

“Please… I don’t– what was that?” 

You felt his chest rumble before you heard his laughter. Heat rose to your face and your throat felt strained though there was no hand around it anymore. 

“Never touched your clit? Do you even know what that is?” He mocked, the cruelty somehow not repelling you from him. He forced you to look up at him. Your heart lurched at how close you were to his face. You could see every gray hair, every minute blemish and line.

“Don’t know your own fucking body but you want a man? You don’t know what you’re handing me on a silver platter. I ain’t like the other guys in town. I walked across the fucking country and lemme tell ya, there’s no pretty things like you out there. I’m starved.” 

“Take me, then,” you begged, using his own words from earlier. “Please. Whatever you– a-aaah!” 

He ramped up the pressure on that spot– your clit– and with it, took your ability to speak coherently. It was as though he’d done it on purpose. You hated it. To be so bereft of control. To be a puppet in someone’s hand. For someone to acquaint themselves with parts of you that you didn’t know of. But it was too much to fight, so you let go. Let him play with you. Take you. Like a thing.

You renounced control of your lips too, his name slipping out effortlessly like it did when he caught you. Then you renounced what was left of your dignity and began begging relentlessly. For what, you didn’t know. In his hand, you’d gone from woman to pupper, your strings pulled by a man, your voice now his. Sounds that would be indiscernible from that of a wounded animal emanated from somewhere deep within you. 

Perhaps none of this was real. Why else did your own voice grow so distant from you? Why did your vision become blurry? Your thighs shook uncontrollably and your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest. Your eyes clenched shut, depriving you of your blurred vision. Your toes curled. You wanted to shrink into yourself, shrink away from all this goodness. You went higher and higher, soaring like a bird. Every nerve ending in your body felt electrified, awoken like one switch turned on every light on last winter’s Christmas tree. 

You let out a loud cry, the soaring bird in you reaching its peak before beginning its fall to the ground. You could hear your breaths again, labored but doing everything to stabilize itself. Your thighs still shook. Your chest rose and fell. A hand caressed your hand. Behind you, something strong supported your back. Kept you from falling backward. 

“Joel…” 

“I know, I know…” he whispered into your head. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, surprised to see a softer visage. He picked you up off the chair like you’d seen him lift giant logs before. With ease. You didn’t protest as he carried you. Didn’t protest when he laid you out on your bed. 

He bent down and picked something up. No questions, no instructions. He simply spread your leg away from the other. Cold air touched the gushing mess dripping out of you and you shivered, feeling a sudden need to cover yourself but unable to defy him. His hand was on your pussy again. His hardened, calloused fingers behind a soft fabric this time. He wiped upwards, collecting the mess he made out of you. When he lifted the fabric up, you realized it was your panties. 

He tucked it into the pocket of his jeans and then looked back at your face, the intensity of his gaze making you want to run. Problem was your weak legs wouldn’t take you anywhere. You didn’t screw your eyes shut. You didn’t pull your blanket to conceal yourself. You looked back at him, defiant. Like you were trying to prove something. I can handle a man like you. 

“Be a good girl from now.” 

That and a condescending pat on your pussy and he was gone.

⌘

Part 2

[buildandrenovate]

Find the Leading Home Renovation Magazine In New Zealand | Build & Renovate

Find out New Zealand's final source for home renovation inspiration. Build & Renovate Magazine is your go-to source for expert advice, stunning design ideas, and insightful information to help you transform your space. Whether you're planning a small update or a complete home makeover, let us guide you every step of the way. Explore our latest issue now!

In today’s New Zealand, the demand for and appreciation of architectural excellence continues to gather steam.

Be it a showcase estate, standard family home, batch, or mini-build in a dense urban setting, architectural and building excellence not only soothes the senses, but in our diverse climate, impacts our quality of life. But with so many things to consider and options to choose from – where do you begin when building, restoring, or renovating your largest investment? That place is here and it’s called Build & Renovate TODAY.

This is where to learn about products, techniques and tactics that can add to any property, be it a classic restoration, an extension or renovation, or new home build. It’s a place to glean insights into modern home design, building techniques and the vast array of products and materials now available. From how architects bring ideas to life and blend function and form to create contemporary living spaces, all the way through to the finishing touches that make a new home or renovation unique and ideally suited to today’s lifestyle. Old or new, classic or contemporary, this is where to discover what works for you and your family, to create a haven befitting people living in a nation looking forward to a bright future.

[fatweb625]

Unlocking the Secrets of Build and Renovate Magazine: Your Ultimate Guide to Renovations and Building in NZ

Introduction:

Welcome to Build and Renovate, your go-to source for everything related to renovations and building in New Zealand. In this blog, we'll delve into the world of renovation and construction, uncovering the invaluable insights and resources offered by Build and Renovate magazine. Whether you're in Christchurch or Auckland, this magazine is tailored to meet your specific needs and preferences. Let's embark on this journey together!

Discover Build and Renovate Magazine:

Build and Renovate magazine stands as a beacon in the realm of renovation and building in New Zealand. Catering to both professionals and enthusiasts, this magazine is a treasure trove of knowledge, featuring articles, tips, and expert advice on all things related to construction and renovations.

Keywords: Renovation Magazine NZ, Building Magazine NZ, Renovations NZ, Christchurch Builder, Auckland Builders

The Renovation Revolution:

Renovations in New Zealand have witnessed a significant surge in recent years, driven by a desire for modernization and improved functionality. Build and Renovate magazine is at the forefront of this revolution, offering a wealth of information on the latest trends, innovative techniques, and sustainable practices in the renovation industry.

Auckland Builders and Christchurch Builders: Spotlight on Expertise:

For those in Auckland and Christchurch, finding the right builder can be a crucial step in any construction or renovation project. Build and Renovate magazine spotlights some of the finest builders in these regions, providing comprehensive profiles, project showcases, and customer testimonials. This invaluable resource streamlines the process of finding the perfect partner for your project.

Renovations NZ: Tailored Solutions for Kiwi Homes:

Every home is unique, and Build and Renovate magazine recognizes this fact. With a focus on Renovations in NZ, the magazine offers tailored solutions and ideas that resonate with the local context. From traditional bungalows to contemporary apartments, the magazine covers a diverse range of renovation projects, ensuring there's something for everyone.

In-Depth Features on Christchurch Builders:

Christchurch, with its unique architectural landscape, requires builders with specialized expertise. Build and Renovate magazine offers in-depth features on Christchurch builder, showcasing their exceptional skills and highlighting their contributions to the city's vibrant construction scene.

Auckland Builders: Pioneering Excellence:

Auckland, as New Zealand's largest city, is a hub of innovation and architectural diversity. Build and Renovate magazine celebrates the achievements of Auckland builders, who are instrumental in shaping the city's skyline. From residential developments to commercial projects, the magazine provides a comprehensive look at the builders driving progress in Auckland.

Conclusion:

Build and Renovate magazine stands as a cornerstone in the construction and renovation industry in New Zealand. Whether you're embarking on a renovation project or seeking expert guidance on building in Christchurch or Auckland, this magazine is your ultimate companion. With a wealth of information tailored to the unique needs of Kiwi homeowners and professionals, Build and Renovate is your passport to success in the world of construction and renovation.

[crystallilytarot]

Choose an item! Your future home

Pile 1

I feel it's in the suburbs area, but if not, than still there's some green, a park maybe, lots of trees near to your home. Not a little town, but you still have some privacy. Feels like it's a place which is good to have a family. Probably there's schools near to you, shops, pharmacy, but also your or your partner's workplace can be nearby too. You can have some fun or unique tapestry or pictures in the wall. Some flowers or plants. The sky is blue, you have a beautiful scene when you look out of the window. There's some more expensive items too, or some memories. But you want to use the home, so it's not a museum, it's practical too. But also cozy. There's a good, comfortable couch, and probably some place to work or to do your hobby.

Pile 2

I feel it's more likely in a city, maybe a high building, but you can have a balcony, I think there's some outdoor place too, and there's some plants, you can relax there, probably a nice lounge. Can be here a pool or jacuzzi too, but definitely a beautiful bathroom, almost like a spa. It's a luxurious home. You can see something like that in a home decor magazine maybe, or in pinterest. The kitchen is big, quality items there, maybe some marble things, and probably a big living room or a dining room, where you can talk with your friends too, or have some family gathering. Feels a little minimalistic, probably some neutral colors, black, white, grey. But the bedroom can be a little more romantic, some family pictures or pictures of you and your partner.

Pile 3

You can move here with your partner, and maybe it's not just a different city but a different country too. Feels like you need to renovate a few things here, but that way it will be just like you two imagined. Probably some DIY projects too. I feel a rural area or a small town, for someone it can be near some water or in the beach. Feels a little rustic, cottagecore or farmhouse style. Not neccesseraly a farm, but it's the style. Quiet, you will have plenty of places, probably a big garden too. Maybe you will move here after your wedding or before your first child. It feels very cozy, safe, a warm home. Some vintage stuff, but also a few new decor. Lots of rooms and probably the kitchen is the center of the house. Maybe an outdoor cooking place in the garden too.

[bvidzsoo]

࿐ྂ The Games ࿐ྂ

࿐ྂ Synopsis: A dystopian future that is full of pain and anguish. A ruler who is merciless and rids of those who threaten his reign. A spark is all you need. A spark that will bring hope and salvage what's left of humanity.

° May the odds be ever in your favor. °

࿐ྂ Author: bvidzsoo

࿐ྂ Pairing: Ateez members x female reader

࿐ྂ Rating: mature, nc-17

࿐ྂ Genre: Hunger Games!au, violence, gore, angst with fluff

࿐ྂ Status: on-going ࿐ྂ

｡˚ ° ↷ 1. Song Mingi x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Haunted me, haunting you

╰┈➤ Summary: After the 72nd Hunger Games, Song Mingi wasn't the same. The spark in his eyes was gone, his once bright smile disappeared and his face became ashen, cheeks hollow, he was merely a shell of the man he once used to be. It hurt seeing him lose himself to the trauma he was forced to endure in the Arena, still haunted by memories...memories of killing someone you both cared about, someone who meant the world to you. Will you be able to help Mingi before it's too late? But most importantly, will Mingi be able to let you in when you bear the very same face he was forced to murder in the Arena in order to become a victor?

｡˚ ° ↷ 2. Choi San x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Your worst mistake...

╰┈➤ Summary: Your innocence was stripped the day you were reaped for the 73rd Hunger Games. The life you had known, and the joy of living well were all just forgotten aspirations. The Games were cruel and terrifying, and they changed anyone who emerged as a victor, who took the crown and returned to the living. And was all that pain, terror, and haunting memories worth it? Was it worth living a life as a monster? Perhaps, yes, it was, if a man was determined enough to show you what tenderness and love meant, that to him you had never changed. But that man was Choi San, a stylist from the Capitol, another gem adored by the masses, so, could he really love you?

｡˚ ° ↷ 3. Jeong Yunho x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Thousand Miles, just to get you back

╰┈➤ Summary: You didn't want this, but then again, you were sure nobody wanted to face the repercussions of being a victor. You hated your life and you hated everyone around you, never trusting a soul again. Whatever President Snow has put you through after your Games was unforgivable and your only solace lay in Finnick Odair, who understood you and your pain. But it didn't end there, no, it never would with Jeong Yunho, another victor, always breathing down your neck and hogging you as if his life depended on it. You didn't like him and you didn't trust him after what he'd done to you despite being your mentor in your Games. And when the 75th Hunger Games come around and President Snow announces that the tributes this year will be the reaped victors, your world comes crashing down, forcing you to do things you never thought you'd do again. But if it meant Panem would be free, you'd do it again.

｡˚ ° ↷ 4. Kim Hongjoong x female reader ↶ °｡˚

Cravin', I'm cravin', I crave you

╰┈➤ Summary: Being in love with your childhood best friend was hard, especially when your feelings weren't reciprocated. Kim Hongjoong, barely a few years older than you, certainly lived a better life. He was a well-known, sought-after, and praised stylist in the Capitol, his creations renovative after the Civil War the Districts unleashed on Panem, against the Capitol . And you, well, you were still studying at the Academy, trying to figure life out and become someone on your own and not due to your parents' wealth and importance. You figured Hongjoong would pay more attention to you when you had finally decided to become a fashion magazine editor, but, no, it only seemed like that drew him closer to Tigris, the person you hated the most. Will you allow her to steal the love of your life? No, never, only over your dead body.

A/N: I was never supposed to turn this into a mini-series of sorts, but alas, here we are! Since four of our boys are getting their own oneshot's, I decided to make a collective masterlist for them, and who knows, maybe I'll add more members to it if a good enough idea comes across my mind. Tbh, I don't exactly want to start a taglist for this mini-series, but I suppose if there's a high demand then I might just. I might change the summaries for San, Yunho, and Hongjoong since their stories aren't written yet and I was going off based on their plots, but I'll see. All of these titles were inspired by songs, and maybe you should listen to Tove Lo's Thousand Miles if you haven't before because that shit was my jam in high school and I nearly collapsed while listening to it again lmao. I have nothing else much to say, except that I might post San's part around Sunday, and if not, then at the start of next week, hopefully. If you're as big of a Hunger Games fan as I am, I hope you enjoy these stories and ignore some inaccuracies, thank uu! See u around <3 divider1 divider2

↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa

@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid

@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia

@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo

@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg

@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98

@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02

@unholywriters @autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty

@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie @jycas @fandom-freak-geek @intaksfav

@itswaffleberry @e3ellie @skz1-4-3 @hoe4yunho @kyeomooniee

@winklehwa @eyesonlyformingi @khjssss @torieisawesome99 @amrose8

@faeriehwa @hongjoongsprincess @iceteainsummer @lac3ybow @aurorajoye

❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[cmncisspnandmore]

All Hands On Deck- Part 4

Pairings: Poly!141 X Pregnant!Wife!Reader

Warnings: Smut

Word Count: 2852 (I suck)

Previous: Part 3

A/N: I wish i could say im back but im not sure if i really am. Life had been really fucking shitty and honestly writing has been the last thing i wanted to do, so heres what i had written before life kicked me when i was already down. Its short and i apologize. When i do get back on my feet i promise i will make them longer.

“What do you think of this one?” Kyle slides his laptop towards you, showing you another house listing. 

This one was 5 bedrooms, with an unfinished basement, 2 large living rooms. You scroll the listing and shake your head. The kitchen was so outdated you were afraid the pipes were insulated in asbestos.

“It needs a lot of renovation, and I'm worried about asbestos. That kitchen looks like it hasn't been touched since the 30’s,” you slide the laptop back to him.

“What about this one Mo Chridhe?” Johnny slides a real estate magazine towards you. The page flipped to a tudor style build, and you shake your head, scrunching up your nose.

“No,” You rest your head on your hand, you glance at John and Simon who are talking quietly amongst themselves. 

“What about you two?” You ask, and they both look at you. Simon and John share a look, communicating without words. You hated when they did that, silently talking with their eyes. All your husbands did it, it was something they developed after working together for years. Johnny and Kyle look over at them and share a look too.

“Oh no you four don't, tell me what you're thinking,” you frown, and they laugh. 

“We’ve been looking for a month, Lovie, maybe we won't find anything that fits all of us.” Simon explains coming over and standing behind you. He wraps his large arms around you, putting his large scarred hand on your stomach.

“So what are you suggesting?” You look up at him, your head tipped back against his chest. He looks down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“How about we build?” He suggests.

“Like from the ground up?” You ask brows furrowed. 

“No from the top down,” Johnny retorts, “Ouch!” He whines rubbing the back of his head as Kyle glares at him.

“Boys,” John warns.

“We found a few large plots of land we can build on, that already have water and electricity hook ups for them,” Simon explains, reaching over you and grabbing the laptop on the counter. He pulls it closer to him, his fingers moving over the keys as he pulls up the listing for the land. Pulls up the picture of a plot of land, 5 acres in the countryside. 

“Hmm..” you hum as you look at it, trying to imagine what kind of house you would build there. 

“We can have whatever you want. If you want 20 bathrooms you can have it,"John crosses his arms across his chest. His shirt flexing over his forearms, your eyes drifting to the light green fabric. Your eyes trail up his arms to his chest, his neck and finally to his face. His beard was a little longer, his bright blue eyes looking at you. As you stare he raises an eyebrow at you. The rumbling at your back sending goosebumps over your skin. 

“Baby?” Kyle says his warm hand landing on your arm. You jerk your head to the right where he stands, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Did you hear Simon?” He asks, his full lips twitching at the edges as he fights back a smile. A blush flushes your cheeks, making them grow warm.

“No…” you mumble, your face tipping down to stare at the counter. 

“You get lost in that pretty head of yours?” Johnny smiles, “something catch your eye Mo Chridhe?” 

“Think she was staring at our captain,” Simons voice is laced with a smile.

“I-I” you stumble over the words, your eyes darting around the room.

“Have we been neglecting you Darling?” John comes closer standing on the left of Simon. 

“No…”

“You sure?” He whispers as he leans in his lips brushing yours. There's a sharp intake of breath behind you, Simon's fingers flexing over your small baby bump. 

“I think we haven't been paying her enough attention…” Kyle murmurs, his lips finding your neck and shoulder. Trailing over the smooth skin there, his tongue darting out to taste you. A shudder runs through you as John's hand comes to hold the side of your face, his rough fingers brushing along your jaw. 

“Steaming Jesus,” Johnny groans.

“Thank fuck it’s almost midnight,” Kyle adds.

“Think we should spread her out over the counter,” Simon mumbles, a series of affirmative noises follow. As John pulls back from your lips he smiles, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.

“Is that what you want Darling?”John breathes his minty breath fanning across your flushed face. “Want us to lay you out on the kitchen counter and have our way with you?” 

Your voice fails you and all you can do is nod. Desire coursing through your veins lighting your nerve endings on fire. Each movement from them sends new ripples of electricity over your body. 

Johnny smirks, his smile smug as he watches you squirm. He loved how turned on you got when you were pregnant. Your hormones racing, no matter how exhausted you were you couldn’t ever turn them down. It had been awhile since they all had taken you together, finding it hard to find a moment when they were all free, the children all taken care of so they could all dote on you without interruptions. The last time had been the second night after they got back and found out about the new babe. The tiny life growing inside you.

John glances at Simon, the two having a conversation with their eyes again, and suddenly you’re lifted off the stool. Placed on the white counter to like you’re the most precious thing in the world, you shudder as the counter comes in contact with your bare thighs. John moves the things behind you, and places a sweatshirt on the counter, his hands going to your shoulders to lean you back against it as Simon nudges your legs apart with his hips.

You stare up at the ceiling, the recessed lighting you hated staring back at you. You gasp as two sets of lips touch your thighs. Both warm but so distinct.

Simon and Kyle.

Kyle’s stubble is softer against your skin than Simon’s. His lips fuller. Simon’s lips are followed by tiny bites that sting slightly. Leaving marks in their wake as he trails his lips to the hem of your shorts.

“Oh,” you gasp, as a warm hand slips under the hem of your shorts and teases the edge of your panties.

“Wanna play a game?” Johnny asks, leaning his arms on the counter as he peers down at you.

“What kind of game?” You mumble eyes half lidded as he and John trail their fingers along your skin. 

“We blindfold you and see if you know who’s touching you,” Johnny smiles down at you.

“Okay. What happens if I win?” You ask, raising an eyebrow in defiance.

“You can get those chickens you’ve been asking for when we move,” John replies, and you smile.

You had been bugging them about getting chickens. With the amount of eggs your family went though it would be more practical to have them then buy 6 dozen eggs every week. At least if you had some chickens you could get fresh eggs every day.

“Deal.”

A few moments later Simon comes back with a tie from the upstairs closet and gently wraps the soft fabric around your eyes. He ties it securely behind your head making sure not to snag any of your hair in the knot.

“Ready?” Johnny's thick accent asks from your left. 

“Yes…” You mumble, your hands clenched at your sides in excitement. 

Suddenly there's a hand on your thigh that trails down to your knee, the skin is smooth and soft, but the cool metal wedding band gives away who it is. Kyle's band was significantly thinner than the others, he had used his grandfather's wedding band but due to years of resizing it had grown thin and worn. 

“Kyle…” you breathe, and you're rewarded by his lips touching yours briefly. 

“You’re right baby.”

The next set of hands are much more aggressive with their touch, they land on your sides, roughly trailing up, pushing your shirt up with them. Exposing your full breasts to the cool air. Your nipples pebble from the sudden temperature change, and suddenly a warm set of lips catches one of your nipples. 

“Johnny!” You gasp, back arching off the counter.

“Fucking hell Mactavish did you have to get us all worked up like that so fast?” Simon's deep voice grumbles, the sounds of clinking belts and fabric hitting the floor with soft thumps follow. 

“Sorry LT, cant resist these anymore,” Johnny chuckles, his tongue flicking out to lap at your nipple, earning a small moan from you. 

Your breath stutters in your chest as someone else starts to pay the same attention to your other breast as Johnny does. The lips are warm but the tell tale brush of a beard on your skin gives them away. 

“John,” you pant, your chest heaving with each breath. Between the blindfold, the anticipation and the attention they were showering your breasts with you weren't sure how long you were going to be able to pay attention and figure out who was who. Pleasure was already starting to fog your brain. A pair of large hands grabs your sleep shorts and panties and discards them. Before the same pair of hands push your knees up towards your chest and your heels land on the counter top. 

A thick finger glides along your entrance and you choke on a moan. 

“S-Simon,” you stutter out as he swirls his finger through your folds.

“Good girl,” he praises, as he regards you by pushing his finger into your aching cunt. You let out a lewd moan, as John and Johnny pull away from their assaults on your nipples to look down at what Simon was doing. 

“Fuck,” Kyle moans and you can hear his hand working his cock. 

“Want to keep playing? Maybe we should make you guess who’s cock is buried deep inside your tight little body,” John whispers in your ear, making you shiver. Goosebumps erupting on your skin. 

“Oh god, please,” you moan as Simon adds another finger, stretching you open. 

There's a moment of pause and you know they’re all looking at each other trying to figure out who gets to go first. After a brief moment Simon pulls his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. 

The soft sound of a cap opening, and suddenly you can feel someone standing by your feet, two sets of hands help pull you to the end of the counter, your ass almost falling off but the person between your legs makes sure you don't fall. Your body trembles from anticipation and when you're sure you're going to combust if someone didn't touch you right that moment. With one hard thrust the person between your thighs slides into you. Your breath stutters in your chest as they grab your hips and slam into you. 

“Fuck!” you gasp, as they pound into you.

“Who’s between your legs Darling?” John asks, as you struggle to make sense of who's between your legs through the waves of pleasure that are rolling through you. You take a few breaths and really concentrate. The hands holding your thighs were calloused but not enough to be Simon or John.

“Tick Tock love, who is it?” Simon's voice is right by your ear. 

You groan as the person pulls almost all the way out before they ease back in, they were long but not nearly as thick as Johnny or Simon. 

“Kyle!” You gasp as Kyle slams his hips into you, his thrusts faltering as he falls over the edge, your own orgasm sweeping through you.

You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out and Kyle’s soft lips fall onto yours before he places a soft kiss to your baby bump. 

“You’re right,” Kyle murmurs, as he trailed his hand up to your cheek where he brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.

“Ready for the next person?” He asks softly, and you nod. It takes a few seconds but eventually someone else settles into between your legs, they spread your legs wider and their hands grip your waist. They weren’t gentle, as they thrust into you with one harsh thrust, before setting a brutal pace that had you a moaning mess.

“Oh fuck! Oh god,” you moan loudly. They didn’t stop their brutal pace, their fingers digging into your skin, nails biting into the soft flesh.

“Simon!” You scream as your next orgasm quickly overtakes you, the mixture of the brutal pace and the lingering pleasure still coursing through your body from Kyle sending you tumbling over the edge far faster than normal.

“Fuck you’re so tight, so wet for me.” Simon grunts as he slams into you. It only takes him a few moments to find his own release, Simon leans over you and kisses you, his arms on either side of your head, His lips brush yours and you sigh softly. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Simon mumbles against your lips before he pulls away and slips out of you. Your entire body trembles as you lay on the counter, your skin slick with a thin veil of sweat as you wait for the next person. 

“Can you handle anymore” John's rough voice is in your ear. His breath tickles the side of your face as he talks.

“I-I don't know,” you mumble, your entire body felt like jello.

“Did we become too much for you Darling? I thought you could handle all of us?” John presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I don't think she can, such a shame,” Kyle chimes in. his hands brushing across your thigh.

“You can handle it Lovie,” Simon coos, his large hand trailing down your chest as he tweaks one of your nipples. Your back arches off the counter and you moan loudly. 

Without warning there's someone gripping your thighs and pulling them apart, their rough hands digging into the soft flesh, and you wouldn't be surprised if you had bruises after. A moment later they bottom out inside of you. Your thighs shake as they move, their thrusts are softer than Simons but there's a controlled restraint in them. Almost as if they are afraid it really is too much for you. “Johnny, don't hold back,” you moan. 

“Ah fuck,” Johnny groans as he thrusts back into you harder. His hands digging into your thighs to hold you in place. “Fuck youre so tight for me, so wet.”

As Johnny continues his brutal pace someone undoes the tie around your eyes and you blink as your eyes adjust. Simon leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. One of his hands on your cheek as his tongue invades your mouth. Your head spins from the sensations, the feeling of Johnny's rough thrusting, Simon's attention to your lips. Johnny’s movements stutter and a moment later he stills completely. His hands let go of your thighs. His palms smack the counter on either side of your hips. 

Your moan is swallowed by Simon as Johnny pulls out of you. He dips his head and kisses the red fingerprints on your thighs for a moment. His breath tickles the sensitive flesh there, before he pulls away. 

“I guess I'm the only one left,” John smiles as he takes Johnny's place. You tear your mouth away from Simons. 

“I guess you are,” you breathe your eyes meeting his. His lip ticks up in a small smirk as he leans over you, one large hand wrapping around your throat for a moment before he squeezes lightly. His blue eyes remain locked on yours as he slowly slides into you. From the corner of your eye you can see Kyle and Johnny slip from the kitchen and a moment later the sound of the shower turning on echoes through the house. 

Simon watches as John fucks you on the counter, his eyes never straying from your reactions. The way your back arches off the counter, the way your breathing stutters when he hits that one spot inside of you. As John picks up his pace he lets go of your throat and moves his hands to your hips. He holds you in place as he slams into you with a steady yet brutal pace. As your orgasm rips through you a hand covers your mouth to silence your scream. Simon's dark brown eyes staring down at you. His pupils lost in the color of his irises. John pulls out of you and catches his breath and Simon slowly lifts his hand from your mouth and your heels slip off the edge of the counter. Your entire body went limp, your hair stuck to your forehead.

“You okay?” Simon asks softly.

“Better than okay…” you give him a lazy smile.

“Oh?” Simon tilts his head towards you, as John pulls on his boxers. 

“Yeah, I was just ravaged by my 4 husbands and I get chickens.” 

Next:

Taglist: @sushiumex @asialovesyou09 @readinggeeklmao