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#but one sip usually satisfies the craving
seawitchkaraoke · 4 months
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Sometimes your body just craves something it never usually craves and you can try to fight that or question it but like. You can also just indulge it it's fine
Like I'm currently drinking a coke despite the fact I usually never drink coke (or like. Any sodas or energy drinks) bc I don't particularly like it but I was at the store and my body said get the coke so I did.
It's good. Tastes like coke. Which is usually like. Fine but too sweet and not that good but currently perfect
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stellar-skyy · 1 month
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hello dear <3 i was thinking an iced hibiscus tea for arlecchino, perhaps? feel free to decide the specifics and details on this one hehe
“i have an order ready for arlecchino! an iced hibiscus tea, for arlecchino!”
☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!
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i. SUMMARY: Arlecchino's child is struggling, but she is there to reassure them. ii. CWS & NOTES: no warnings applicable. platonic arlecchino & gn!reader. house of the hearth!reader. angst & hurt/comfort. 1.5k words. iii. A/N: the way i ran to get this order done- THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME THE OPPORTUNITY TO WRITE THIS ILY /p
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It was a cold day in the House of the Hearth when Arlecchino called upon one of her children for nothing more than a simple chat.
One of the unspoken rules of the House was that the most leisurely of discussions were only a preface to something deeper; layers of ulterior motives hidden underneath an innocent invite for tea. Some children had never glimpsed the privilege of being summoned to her office, while others found themselves carving a dent into her seat cushions with the number of times they sat in them. But one thing remained unchanging with every visit: their Father would send for them with a purpose, and they would not leave until it was fulfilled.
When [Name] received word that they were to visit Arlecchino’s office at 7:00pm sharp, their first instinct was dread; for the dozens of possible reasons for them being the one to be called upon. Musing upon the ‘why’s shifted their mood from the dull thrum of anxiety to sweeping waves of confusion. As far as they were concerned, they had no due cause for such a meeting with the Director herself; no failed missions to be reprimanded over, no shady plots of subterfuge to be exposed. They weren’t any rowdier or more troublesome than any other of the children, so the list of matters that would merit a visit was short.
Still, they knew better than to avoid the call. 7:00pm, they stood outside the office, hand poised over the door. They closed their eyes, knocking on it sharply and wincing at the echo that reverberated off the walls.
Three short raps. A smooth, calm voice, from inside the room: “Come in.”
The doorhandle creaked loudly as it turned. The door was old, and rather heavy, so it took a gentle shove to push it fully open to reveal the neat, cozy office inside.
“Ah, [Name], you’ve arrived.” Arlecchino greeted them as they entered. She was seated behind her desk as she usually was, with a full tea-set in front of her. As they slowly approached, she motioned towards the plush chairs opposite her. “Please, take a seat. I have been waiting for you.”
They quickly settled into the closest chair, hands folded in their lap. The room was quiet and cold; enough to send an uncomfortable prickle down their spine. Arlecchino paid no mind to their uneasiness; her hands were busy deftly arranging the teacups on the tray. Once she was satisfied with their placement, she then moved to pick up the teapot.
“I have some new tea from Liyue,” she hummed, gently tipping the teapot to let the dark red drink fill one cup, then two. Steam rose from each, cutting through the chill of her office. “Hibiscus. It’s quite sour, but I have added a spoonful of honey and sugar to the brew to sweeten it.”
She held one of the teacups out, and they clasped both hands around it with a murmured thanks. As they moved to take it from her, the side of their palm brushed against her fingers—icy cold, enough to make them shiver with a single touch.
“Your night has been well, I am assuming?” Arlecchino asked, taking a sip from her cup.
“Yes,” they murmur, bringing the tea to their lips. It was hot, but just enough not to burn their tongue. The honey she had added did little to mask the sour taste of the hibiscus, but it created a lightly sweet aftertaste that was pleasant enough to warrant a second sip.
“And your days, how have they been?”
They frowned, scanning her expression for any hint of what she wanted. She was clearly speaking to them in search of something, even if she didn’t say it aloud. A mission report, perhaps? They had already submitted the paper copy to her desk, but if she had missed it, or it had gotten lost with the rest of the paperwork handed in that day, she could be waiting for them to recount the mission directly.
“I returned from the mission you sent me on,” they blurted out. “I… it was a success, mostly. No casualties. Minimal injuries. And I also—”
“No need for a summary, I’ve read your report.” Arlecchino cut them off smoothly. “I want to know how you are, not how your mission went.”
They almost choked on their tea. Arlecchino raised an eyebrow at their sudden lack of composure, and they hurriedly covered it up with a half-hearted cough. “S-Sorry… you want to know how I have been… feeling?”
“That is correct.”
The air was thick with silence and the bitter smell of hibiscus, until they blurted out a quick “Fine! I’ve been fine, thank you.”
“Fine?”
“Fine, yes.”
“Interesting. I have been hearing curious things,” Arlecchino said casually. “Some of your siblings seem to have noticed a change in your behaviour. You aren’t sleeping as well, your mood has been significantly worse, you haven’t been joining during social activities. There is clearly something wrong.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” they said weakly. Their feeble attempt at normalcy was nowhere near convincing enough to fool her, and they knew it. They were a passable liar in the best of circumstances, but she was the one person who would always be able to see right through them.
“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
They couldn’t look at her. One look into those sharp eyes, one wrong word and they would crumble right there in her office. They had to keep it together for as long as it took to convince Arlecchino they were alright and be dismissed from her office. They only needed to hold back the burning behind their eyes until they were far away from Arlecchino and her pressing words and bitter tea, and could quietly fall apart.
She was waiting for an answer, but they could hardly breathe through the lump in their throat, let alone formulate a response. If she stopped now, saw them for what they were—a lost cause—and gave up, it would be fine. But instead:
“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, and something inside them snapped.
Tears burst from their eyes, spilling over their cheeks and down their face. They gasped, choking back a cry, holding a fist to their mouth to stop the hiccupping and wheezing breaths.
“I’m sorry,” they sniffled, rather pathetically. They kept their head ducked down low, unable to bring themself to look up into her undeniable face of disapproval. If they were any stronger, they could grit their teeth and make up a spiel about how they would do better next time, but instead they had to cry.
Now, not only were they going to be reprimanded for letting their emotions affect their work, they would be scolded for crying as well.
“Now, there is no need for crying.” Arlecchino stood, scraping her chair against the floor. They flinched away from the jarring sound, shrinking inwards with their tear-streaked face hidden in their hands. As much as they tried to stop them, the tears kept flowing into their palms. The walls were shifting closer with each second, and the thick scent of the tea filled their lungs until it choked them with that cloyingly bittersweet scent—
They jumped, as something cold touched their fingers. Their hands were carefully pried away from their face, revealing Arlecchino kneeling in front of them, with an unusually concerned expression on her face.
“I’m not upset with you, dear.” She said gently. “If that is why you are apologising.”
“You’re not?” they asked slowly. It had to have been a lie, but with how softly she said it, a part of them couldn’t help but wish it was true.
“Of course I’m not. But do you know why I’m not upset with you?” she asked. Hesitantly, they shook their head. “I’m not upset in the slightest, because I know whatever is clouding you is something that you will work through. You will emerge the victor of this battle, no matter what it is.”
They made a strangled sound, and felt a new wave of tears form. Arlecchino sighed, pulling them to their feet and against her chest.
“You are strong,” she said softly, carding her fingers through their hair. “You are capable. You are able to overcome whatever hardships you are facing, no matter how much they wear on you.”
She kissed their temple, her cool lips feeling almost warm pressed to their skin. While she lingered there, she whispered to them, softer than a mother’s touch. “You are strong enough to face this on your own, but even if you aren’t you will always have me here behind you.”
Their hands stretched out to grab the back of her jacket, shuddering out a breath. If Arlecchino minded their teary face being pressed against the front of her clothing, she didn’t comment on it; she only murmured more reassurances as she held them close.
“Just breathe, dear.” She whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”
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reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡
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vivinens · 10 months
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a lover's game !
characters: neuvillette, wriothesley & navia.
summary: little things they notice about you.
warning, minor fontaine story spoilers. gender neutral reader. here's a few short drabbles, hello tumblr!
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Neuvillette, while famously intrigued by human behavior, often finds himself completely fascinated with you in particular.
For all his objective understanding of worldly matters, he is still confused as to why he specifically craves your attention. It's utterly strange, really, how his eyes seem to trail after your movements and expressions with more care than he would show to others.
You smile differently, when speaking to him. He's picked up on this after numerous conversations involving you two and a third party. When speaking to Monsieur Neuvillette (he often wonders about the soft way you say his name), your tone is easy and your smile is—for lack of a more appropriate word—entrancing. But, the moment your attention turns to the third party, that smile is dimmed.
At first, he simply chalks it up to you wanting to get in his good graces. After all, he's had no shortage of humans attempting to get close to him in order to satisfy their own desires. However, even with his lackluster social skills, he can see how your behavior is different from the people trying to appeal to them for their own merit. Your flustered sentences and bright eyes were not the same as others using flattery to gain status among the court staff.
...Perhaps he should ask Navia about it. Not for the first time, he curses his own lack of social understanding.
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Wriothesley is not usually the kind of man who finds himself hung up on trivial details. He spends too much time working and worrying as it is; so why should he make life more complicated for himself?
There were some things he can't help but notice when it comes to you, though. It's midday when he overhears you mumbling to yourself about a new treat from Café Lucerne you'd like to try—as well as something about you having already spent all your "fun mora" for the week. You had sighed to yourself at your own respective desk all afternoon, and the sheer longing he could sense made his eye twitch.
You arrived to your work desk the next morning to see a wrapped gift box atop it. You had gasped when you opened it to reveal the outrageously expensive cake you had been craving all week. Wriothesley couldn't stay to further see your reaction, as to not raise suspicion, but he was content nonetheless.
It was when he arrived at work the next day that he realized—after seeing a steaming hot cup of coffee set on his desk beside a signed thank you note—that you're more observant than you let on. After all, he had taken great care in not letting it be known he was the one who gifted you the cake.
He takes a sip of the coffee. It was the way he likes it. Yes, you were very observant, indeed.
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Navia has always had a soft spot for her underlings. She remembers their birthdays, their favorite songs, and those who they would prefer to work alongside. She claims it's her duty as their boss to know such things—although, in the opinion of many, she often goes above and beyond.
However, if you were to ask any of Navia's other subordinates, they would probably say she tries to understand you best of all. You have known one another for a long time, and this friendship was something she held very dearly—especially after the passing of her father. You were a beacon of light in those times, when the world seemed against her and her father's memory.
In some ways, she wondered if she was... taking advantage. You worked hard to support her and Spina di Rosula, and earned hardly nothing in return. Pay was rocky and sometimes even scarce. What if your talents could be better used elsewhere? What if you truly did want to leave? What if—
"You're overthinking again, Navia," you sigh, and before she can even think to respond, your hand is reaching to feel her forehead. You're sat beside one another on a bench, taking a small reprieve after a day spent out and about Vasari Passage. "Hm, I'm surprised you don't have a fever. You've been acting strange all day," you say, tilting your head. "You would tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?"
The genuine worry in your voice makes Navia's heart flutter. "No, no, nothing at all!" She exclaims with more confidence than she feels. She seems to be doing that a lot lately. "But... thank you, for worrying about me. You shouldn't have to."
You frown. "I care for you—perhaps more than you understand, Navia. You don't have to speak about it now, but if something is troubling you, I will always lend you an ear."
Sometimes, Navia finds you truly are too understanding of her emotions. Instead of responding, she nods wordlessly, lest the things she wants to say so desperately clog her throat, and reaches to rest her hand against yours. You don't pull away, and the loud hammering of Navia's heart continues in her chest. It does not stop for a long while.
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sapphosclosefriend · 6 months
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- Money, Power, Glory pt 3 -
Pairing: CEO! Silverfox! Natasha Romanoff x Escort! Fem! Reader
Genre: suggestive, maybe even a little fluffy
Summary: the way you both feel for each other seems to change a little and, after once again staying over at her place, she makes a way too appealing proposition. Part 1 Part 2 Part 4
Word count: 2.7k
Warnings: top! Natasha x bottom! R, Natasha has a penis, big age gap (N =56, R=24), making out, suggestive themes, extremely brief oral (R receiving).
A/N: this story contains mature themes so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. Chapter 4 is already in the works and it will be a bit deeper. Let's not talk about how the Christmas special is going because it's currently not going…anyway. Again, thanks to @supercorpdanbeau and @rt--link ♡ As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡
Masterlist
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Isn't it crazy how fast time passes? Well, it certainly was to you. You just couldn’t believe it had already been six whole months since your first encounter with Natasha and saying that your life went upside down thanks to her was an understatement.
On one hand it felt as if it hadn't been a day since the first time you'd stepped into her elegant home, but maybe that was only because of just how much time you'd been spending with her. Hours soon turned into evenings, which turned into nights, days and even whole weekends. She definitely seemed to like the thought of having you always ready for her to enjoy and, having the financial means to do so, asking you to spend prolonged periods of time with her, sometimes not even engaging in sexual acts for some parts of your encounters, slowly started becoming the norm. Of course she would've gladly booked you even just to watch you sip on a drink and read a book in a bikini by the pool at her beach house while she was stuck on a stupid work call, but she knew that even if her intentions were ever to be pure, they would've immediately taken a turn once she'd be in your presence. You wouldn't have been opposed to the idea either, after all Natasha's presence was slowly becoming something you simply didn't like being without and spending more and more time with her, even without doing anything at all, only kept sounding more appealing as time went on.
You soon realized that you'd just added a regular to your customers list, despite the older woman never clearly stating so. In fact, she seemed to be quite adamant in declaring that your meetings were strictly a means for her to destress only once she needed to. Maybe she was truthful and her life, which consisted pretty much only of her job, was, after all, more stressful than you thought. But something in you was telling you that it wasn't completely true. If that something was just a hopeful part of you talking, you didn't know.
What you did know pretty soon, though, was that she wasn't going to be any regular client, you just knew something different was going to happen with her, you could feel it in you, how different playfully flirting with her was, how real your nervous and timid stance was, how real your orgasms were, how real your eagerness at answering her calls was, how you found yourself thinking less and less about the money that came with her. She was as intoxicating as the most expensive top shelf liquor there was, of which she probably owned at least one bottle, and you didn't think you could've ever been more addicted to her. Of course, no matter what, her bottomless fortune was still incredibly appealing to you. How could it not be? After all, beautiful things require a lot of assets and you've always liked beautiful things, clothes, shoes, jewelry, trips, Natasha. Thankfully, your job and your clients' "generosity" had done wonders over the years at satisfying your cravings, not just through their payments, but with little gifts and rewards here and there. You weren't a sugar baby, not at all, but those kinds of people were power addicts and what better way to assert your dominance than to show off your American Express to a pretty girl and then fuck her brains out, or at least try.
It had happened again and you had spent yet another night over at Natasha's house and the more time that passed, the more you convinced yourself that she really didn't need you to placate her anger anymore. You knew by then what she was like when she needed to unload some stress and what you had been seeing recently just wasn't it. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, she was still perfectly able to leave you limp on the bed even without being rough at all, but it was interesting how she apparently didn't want to admit that maybe she just liked to have fun together simply because.
The ache you felt through your whole body as soon as you woke up in her unfortunately empty bed was clear proof of just how easy it was for the older woman to completely wreck you without even trying. You would've gladly spent the entire day under the warm, soft covers that smelled like her until she came back home late at night, but your rationality slowly pushed your body out of the small piece of heaven you had no interest in leaving. Getting out of her illegally comfortable bed and readying yourself after such a night ended up being way harder than you expected, but you were finally able to join her in the kitchen surprisingly early, even though you were still only wearing a button down shirt, making you not truly ready but still giving you some more time to spend together before she had to go to work and you had to go back home. Your usual bad morning mood was immediately lifted as you were greeted by the back of her tall, built frame wearing perfectly tailored pants and a shirt tucked in that hugged her arms in the most delicious way possible, giving you a perfect view of her upper body clad only by a thin layer of expensive cotton thanks to the suit jacket left over the back of a chair. Maybe you could've gotten used to such beautiful sights blessing your eyes first thing in the morning.
She inexplicably looked effortlessly hot even as she simply blowed a silver strand of hair out of her face, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, that she then laid over her shoulder, and rolled up her sleeves, showing off the watch that was probably worth at least two years of your apartment rent and her slender, veiny hands. She simply looked otherworldly and you couldn't hold yourself from silently pressing your front against her back and untucking her shirt to let your hands rest on her bare stomach, hearing her lowly chuckle at your usual morning clinginess. You stayed silent for a little while, simply soaking in her presence, when you suddenly realized what you'd just walked in on.
"You know how to turn on a stove?"
You would've expected an unimpressed look if she was facing you, but her fake laugh was basically the equivalent to that.
"Ha ha. You know, I haven't always had private chefs."
You knew, of course you did, you were just messing with her and she secretly loved it.
"Did you send them away?"
"No, they're still here, in case I mess this up."
"Is the Natasha Romanoff capable of messing up something like scrambled eggs?"
She didn’t answer your question, no quick remark, no teasing, which told you that yes, she was absolutely capable of messing them up. You didn't press her, though, you were technically still on duty, even though you had a tendency of forgetting it while you were with her, and the first thing you always wanted to do was make sure to avoid at all costs any possible chance of a negative outcome. It may have sounded stupid, but those people were paying you a whole lot of money to have a good time and if something so meaningless such as talking about not being able to cook scrambled eggs could've led them to be in a bad mood then it simply wasn't a topic worthy enough, not even for friendly banter.
"Well, you definitely didn't mess it up last night…my legs are so sore and I need to be at the gym in an hour!"
Your whining as you held onto her tighter amused her, as flashes from the night before, with your arms around her and your nails on her back, made her immediately turn off the stove to turn around and finally kiss you for the first time that day, savoring your content hum at the feeling of her plump lips languidly moving against your own. You had a strange effect on her, like no other woman before, and she could barely wrap her head around it. Any time she touched you in any way, any time she talked to you, any time she was in your presence, her heart seemed to do a leap in her chest, giving her a sense of euphoria she usually felt only after a successful day at work. You were younger than her, so much younger, 32 years younger to be exact, but you strangely felt like the only woman she'd ever been with who could really be at her level. She knew she had to have you for as long as she could and you didn't seem to be too much against the idea, as you started to make more and more time out of your schedule to be with her whenever she wanted, a privilege none of your other clients ever had. Of course your agent was very happy with the new change, but she, like everybody else, only thought of it as a way for you to make even more money, Natasha was the wealthiest of your clients after all. Deep down you knew, though, that it wasn't the only reason why you kept spending more and more time with her. You genuinely liked her and the endless hours you devoted to her were making you the happiest you'd been in a while.
"I'm going to Cuba for work for the weekend, there's a free seat on my plane."
You found yourself whining and chasing after her lips as she broke the kiss to speak, but soon grew intrigued by her proposition, knowing how little work her weekend work trips actually had, usually only one or two phone calls while you sucked her off while still in bed.
"You're asking for a bit too much on such a short notice now, Ms Romanoff."
You were teasing her, making her beg for you to go, even though you knew you would have agreed way before she had to resort to begging, but that didn't mean that there wasn't some truth in your words. Given the amount of time you were spending with Natasha you often had to occupy your weekends with your other clients, who now had to book their meetings with much more notice to guarantee themselves a spot with you. You'd even lost Wanda Maximoff, one of your first ever customers, because you "even dared suggest" to move your weekly meetups from Friday to Saturday, but, as much as it pained you after everything you'd done for her for literal years, you knew that Natasha's money would've still been way more than what you needed to survive.
"I'm offering you a weekend of relaxing, squandering and fucking in Cuba, doesn't sound too bad to me."
It did not sound bad at all, it sounded like the best time you could've ever had and it pained you knowing that you had to give it up to instead spend your weekend pretending to laugh and acting like you'd never cum harder in your life with some "limp dick", as Natasha liked to call your other customers.
"Well, I have clients eagerly waiting for me on those days."
Even as you spoke those words surely, there was still a little voice in the back of your head that kept chanting over and over for you to fuck it, leave everything behind and hop on her yacht to go wherever the hell the woman you l-liked wanted you to go. It didn't happen every single time, you eventually giving in, but way more than you'd like to admit and once again you could hear that voice getting closer and closer, making it impossibly hard for you to resist her temptation, even more so at the sight of her beautiful eyes slightly darkened by hidden jealousy.
"If you blow me on my way to work I'll give you more money than all of those limp dicks together will over the fucking weekend…and of course I'll pay you for Saturday and Sunday."
Why did she have to say something like that? Why did she have to speak to you in that way, with her lips almost touching yours and her hands possessively grabbing your waist and pressing you flush against her front, unknowingly making you feel her bulge so damn well. Of course your slight shiver didn't go unnoticed by her and seeing her pupils dilate as she eyed your lips and the top of your chest only made your breathing all the more shaky as your mind finally settled on the only important person to you. You were going with her, fuck everybody, no amount of money would've been worth more than her right now.
"Now I'd be dumb if I turned down such a tempting proposal."
Of course she didn't need to know just how eager you really were and how you would've screamed YES from the tallest building in the city, not only would it have inflated her ego even more but, more importantly, she would've known just how bad you really had it for her.
"Hmm and you're not dumb, right? No, you're the smartest whore in New York City."
If only she knew how hard you would've slapped anyone else for calling you that, but coming from her only made the name sound like the best compliment you could've ever received.
Her tense expression seemed to have relaxed in the slightest at the confirmation that she was your choice, that maybe at least a part of you genuinely liked her enough that you were willing to cancel on your other customers at the last minute only for her. And just like that, she was hit by it all again, that deep need to have you, carnally and platonically. She once again felt almost overcome by it and could no longer keep herself from taking you again, you were like her own drug and you couldn't keep her from kissing you with so much passion and need that you felt like you would've never been able to stay away from her. God, how blissful it felt, how much did she get off of the power she had over you. She could've easily spent the rest of her life savoring all and every little part of you. You consumed her too much and she always felt like she needed more and more of you.
The thin layer of cotton of your shirt suddenly felt like the thickest brick wall there was and, after taking way too much time undoing your top button only, she firmly grabbed each side of your shirt and ripped it open, making every single button pup and roll over the floor. Your shocked, but secretly pleased, expression went completely unnoticed by her as she ogled at your chest, looking even more delicious to her thanks to the deep red lingerie you wore over it.
"And the hottest"
"Natasha!"
She didn't even lift her gaze to speak or acknowledge you, simply looking at your assets once more before bending over to kiss and suck the skin not covered by expensive lace, taking your breath away and making you completely forget about your famous "no marks" rule you barely cared about anymore with her.
"I'll buy you a new one"
She barely stopped her assault on the tender skin to mumble what tried to be words of reassurance before she started to push you backwards until you were pressed against the kitchen island. You barely noticed her hands sneaking down your body and only realized what she wanted to do when she was already lifting you up to make you sit on the marble counter, pushing you to lie down on the cold surface and hurriedly kissing down your front while taking off your underwear.
"Hell, I'll buy you fucking Max Mara"
Her raspy voice slightly muffled by the skin of your inner thigh as she propped your legs over her shoulders made your center tighten around nothing for just a second, before she dove into your pussy like she needed it to survive.
How the hell could you ever have thought about not choosing her?
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Part 4
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Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100 @marvels--slut @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @mrsrushman @mrsromanoff @thalia-is-not-ok @alianovnasposts @clintsupremacy @taliiiaasteria @meowymari @lissaaaa145 @natashaswife4125 @olsenmyolsen @angrywhisperslove @aemilia19 @setsuna1415 @letsboandy
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biteofcherry · 1 year
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Grain of Truth  -  part eight
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*disclaimer: the picture used in the banner is no indication for how the Reader looks, it only serves the vibe of the story, it’s not a description
Soft!Dark Alpha Steve Rogers x Omega Reader
Summary: You’re content with your quiet, peaceful life, but it suddenly becomes dangrously intense when an alpha, Steve Rogers, forces himself into it. You never believed nor seeked out the old fairytales of true mates, but Steve will make you admit there’s a grain of truth in every fairytale.
Warnings for this chapter: heat (mating cycles); smut; unprotected sex; knotting; cum play; A/B/O dynamics; marking; bonding; dominance; Dom/sub undertones; soft!dark Steve;
word count: 4.1k
Main Masterlist
Grain of Truth previous parts:   
 | Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Nine |
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Heat pleasure always felt heightened. A sort of an euphoric high that you rode, until your body gave out and your brain shut off into sleeping mode. 
However, it was nothing compared to the intensity of going through it with Steve. 
The need for your alpha was skyrocketing, consuming you whole; mindless and animalistic. 
With any previous heat a few good orgasms from your fingers, or your toys, had you sated and smiling. The heat triggered by your alpha’s presence was like a fever that only grew each time he took you.
Wet and sticky, so full of him, so sore; and yet you mewled for him desperately when Steve forced you to take a break from his cock. 
You scrunched up your nose, glaring at him indignantly as he fed you pieces of chocolate bars and brought a water bottle to your lips. Nutrition wasn’t something you ever cared for in your heat, usually forgetting about anything beside little sips now and then. 
Maybe that’s what alphas were for during a heat - to satisfy your aching cunt and care for your wellbeing. 
You definitely preferred the first part. 
Which is why you tried to nibble on Steve’s fingers instead of the chocolate; why you rubbed yourself against his thigh like a needy bitch. 
He had to pin you down a few times, growling at you to behave and eat more. 
Honestly, Steve growling only made things worse. 
As did his hand wrapped around your throat and the heavy weight of his body trapping you in.
It made you keen and leak, a fresh rush of your potent scent provoking Steve's raw attack. 
Much later, when your determined to get wrecked brain switched off as your stomach grew taut with how much of his cum spilled past your cervix, Steve used your pliant body to sate his own never ceasing craving.
Still emitting faint heat hormones, just boneless and acquiescent, your body called to the alpha to claim you over and over. 
Even without you actively trying to climb him, too fucked out to even beg for his knot, Steve followed the mating instinct that drove him nearly mad with the need to take you again. Fill you again. Bite you again.
A few times he’d gratuitously allowed you reprieve; stroked himself as he watched your spread body and reminisced on the things he’s done to you. 
He came all over your belly and chest. A second time over your back and ass. Twice on your face, scooping splashes of thick, white cream and pushing them between your lips.
You suckled them clean so eagerly, your scent spiking again as the taste of his cum stirred the last flames of your heat from its lull; it made him painfully hard again. 
And so he fucked your boneless body without remorse. Hooked his arms beneath your bent knees as he drove deep.  
When his knot deflated and he slipped out of your fluttering pussy, Steve took a few deep, calming breaths. A short pause to let your body stop twitching from overstimulation. 
Then he kneeled up and cradled the back of your head in his hand, holding it in place as he nudged your lips with the tip of his cock. You opened eagerly, big glossy eyes staring up at him as he slowly rocked into your hot mouth to get himself hard again.
Hard enough to move your body into a new position and thrust inside you. The way you cried Alpha each time he stretched you anew, was the most intoxicating feeling.
The primal side of Steve swelled in triumph and delight as he finished for the final time and looked at you - your broken body quivering beneath him, belly slightly bulged, the imprint of his teeth on your mating gland.
A new day was brightening outside. The third one, Steve calculated. Or maybe fourth? 
What his frantic brain might’ve thought to be a few hours could in fact be close to twenty four. Not that he cared much. He could spend a week, or two, with you in the nest, if you asked him to. If you needed him.  
Though he suspected you won’t like staying much longer on the completely soiled fabrics. Much less remaining sticky all over. For now, however, you were unable to move an inch to leave the nest and Steve had no desire to separate from you. 
He dug between the layers of the nest and pulled out the least nasty blanket, draping it over you both as he settled on his side facing you. 
He placed a hand on your hip and your body rolled closer. It was an instinct to be as close to your alpha even in your drowsy state. 
Steve held you, arm loosely wrapped around you and his nose buried in your hair. He felt an indescribable, peaceful sensation spreading through him like a warm wave. A sense of joy and contentment. Of being in the right place.
Of belonging. 
You slept for a few hours and Steve dozed off along with you. The moment your consciousness began reconnecting with reality, he woke up as well. 
It wasn’t the bond, but the still heightened instinct to attend to your needs if the heat hasn’t fully subsided. 
But you only hummed and stretched alongside him. You rolled onto your back, eyes closed. You felt the heavy arm across your body, an intimate and possessive act that brought a faint smile to your lips.
You placed your hand atop Steve’s forearm, caressing his skin with delicate brushes of your fingers. When you moved your legs, muscles in your thighs spasmed and the burn in them returned. 
As if connected to the sensation, your core pulsed with soreness.
Oh! Your eyes fluttered open.   
So many sensations tingled in your body. An ache which you suspected would only spread once you tried walking. 
If you’d even be able to take a step, with the imprint of Steve’s cock and knot still fresh in your ruined pussy. 
But you never felt this satisfied, this… delirious bliss. 
You wanted to grin and laugh, and keep stretching even though each of your muscles would strain in reminder of the brutal tumble your body was subjected to for hours and hours. 
You wanted to curl into a ball and hide in your alpha’s strong arms; have his heavy weight on you and his breath on your neck. 
Your brain, still quite mushy from the post-orgasmic haze, suddenly pinged with alertness. 
The mark over your mating gland was throbbing pleasantly, in tune with the joyous pulsing in your whole body. 
With trembling fingertips, you touched the bitten spot, feeling the content warmth and pride swell in your heart. A heart that seemed to pound with strength unknown to it until now.
You turned your head to the side, staring at Steve bewildered. Then you forced your body to roll to your side, needing to face him fully. Needing him to hold you closer even as the itch to punch him grew.
“You bonded me,” you whispered, astonishment breaking into a betrayal. 
A part of you knew that bonding would be something Steve insists on, but you thought of it as something to happen much later in your relationship. 
Not only did it happen so soon, but he snapped it into place at your most vulnerable and submissive state. 
“Yes.” Steve replied softly, as if it was the most natural and obvious thing. 
He frowned, seeing your eyes well with tears. Your body was still pressed to his, your leg found its way over his thigh, but you tilted your head back from him. 
At first he didn’t understand your reaction, then he remembered how new all of this was to you. How foreign the concept of true mates was to you. 
For years you held onto your own presumptions, building lies on stereotypes to shield yourself from ever forming a relationship with any alpha. 
You skipped some important truths in your need to rebel.
You had to enroll back to some classes, or maybe at least talk to Amita about the basic truths you chose to never learn. Otherwise the hurdles along your future path may lead to catastrophic outcomes. 
“Hey,” Steve said your name in a soothing tone and moved one of his hands to cup the back of your head and make you look at him. “Can you take a deep breath for me and focus on what exactly you’re feeling on the bond spectrum?” 
Instinct told you to struggle, but your body was too spent to put any real resistance. You sneered at Steve, but he only held you in place and asked you to focus once again. 
So you did. With every intention of pouring your irritation into it so hard that Steve feels it like a punch over the mating bond. 
However, the deeper you sank into what you were sensing inside of you, the calmer you were. There was a tiny hint of worry, but overall it was a calm certainty of feelings, a bloom of love and serenity. 
And you knew they weren’t your emotions.
Yours were still a bit uncertain, chaotic, wonderfully in the whirlwind of slowly falling in love and considering running away.
You understood then that what you felt when you focused on the bond were Steve’s feelings. The heartbeat you thought was yours, only stronger, was Steve’s. 
“I feel you.” You whispered, eyes going wide. 
Steve traced a finger over your cheek and then down to your arm. He took your hand in his and put it over his sternum. 
“That’s what I did.” He explained. “A mating bite is a gift, not a demand. I bit you, because I was ready to open to you. To give you access to my feelings.” 
You frowned, not grasping the full meaning behind his words. Every scrap regarding a mating bond that ever reached your mind (though back then you didn’t even want to know it), described it as a brand an alpha puts on his omega to have her tied to him.
Steve’s explanation spoke of something completely opposite. Was he trying to veil the breach of trust and forcing you to bond with him with pretty fairy tales? 
Steve sighed, noticing your confusion. 
“You’re thinking of a mating bond as something that’s like a leash. Or a GPS tracker.” He rolled his eyes, suspecting where such ideas might come from. 
Surely not from true stories, or even academic research, since you avoided any true mating topic like a plague.
It had to be based on deranged, exaggerated romance novels, or shitty TV shows glorifying miscommunication and abuse. No wonder you were so against mating and creating a bond. 
“Some of the alpha romances really have it all wrong and the authors should be walloped for that.” Steve growled with irritation. 
“In truth, the bond allows one to sense the distress of the partner and react quicker, but most of all it’s a final act of showing your commitment.” Steve tapped the back of your hand that rested above his heart. “And it’s the biting partner that opens up, not the one getting the bite.” 
“That makes zero sense.” You blurted out.
“Oh, and the other way around makes more sense?” Steve chuckled. “Or are you just so used to seeing it your way that it’s hard to accept it’s the opposite?” 
Steve rolled his body over you, trapping you beneath his massive form once again. And like it happened every time he did it, your body tingled with anticipation. 
However, he didn’t part your legs, didn’t rut into you; didn’t even steer his touch to an intimate sphere. 
“A bite over a mating gland is like giving a wedding ring.” He leaned down, rubbing the tip of his nose along yours. “Me giving it to you as a sign of my commitment. Of me trusting you with my heart and mind.” 
You felt the truth behind his words inside you, felt it on that hook in your heart. 
“You feel me. But I don’t feel you.” 
There was an undertone of sadness in Steve’s voice, but it wasn’t a manipulation to force the right words out of you. And now you were certain of it, because you sensed it through the bond.
For the first time it seemed you were on even footing with Steve, being able to tell if he was honest or just wanted to trick you. 
In the uneven power dynamic between an alpha and omega that provided you a power of your own. 
“You don’t feel what I feel?” You asked, still hesitant. “You don’t know what I think?”
All the times he figured out there was something bothering you, or the way he so easily played your body as if he knew all the weak spots before discovering them. And he knew that without having the bond in place? 
If Steve gained even more insight into you, as the two way bond guaranteed, you’d be powerless against him.
“No, not until you bite me.” Steve brushed his lips over yours. “When you bite my mating gland, only then can I truly sense you. Only then the actual true bond snaps into place.” 
You opened your lips to accuse him of already having weird access to your thoughts, but Steve’s soft huff of laughter interrupted you.
“I’m good at reading people and you wear some of your emotions on your beautiful face.” He teased you. 
“And your body has tells too…” one of his hands slid along your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast.
Your nipple instantly hardened, your back arching upward so you could rub against Steve’s naked chest.
“You’re so very responsive.” Steve hummed appreciatively. 
“You- you’re distracting from the main topic.” You scolded, but it sounded too breathy and helpless to impress anyone. Plus, your treacherous body preferred to follow the newly ignited spark of arousal. 
“I’m distracting?” Steve’s hand traveled further south. “I’m not the one splayed so openly; so warm and wet, and smelling of me.” 
“That’s also your fault,” you groaned when he nudged your legs apart and settled his weight between them. “You covered me in your cum almost head to toe.” 
It was absolutely filthy, some of the things he did to you. Yet your body and the primitive hindbrain of yours shaked in ecstasy. 
“Mhm, there are still some unsoiled nooks.” Steve’s voice lowered as his fingers dipped between your soaked folds and further down. 
“Nu-uh,” you shook your head even as your body opened up to his ministrations, “I’m not taking it up the ass.” 
Steve’s eyes darkened, a single digit circling your puckered hole. 
“Not yet,” he whispered, moving his fingers back to your sopping entrance, “but not never.” 
Deep in your belly you felt a shot of lust - dark and heady, and so possessive it couldn’t be yours. It punched the air out of your lungs as you realized it was Steve’s arousal spiking, spurred by your awaiting body and whatever filthy thought he had. 
“Let’s stick to the Not part, for the moment.” You groaned at the gentle push of a single finger between your swollen walls.
There was already so much your body went through this heat - a summary of all your sexual encounters tripled wouldn’t match the number of times you came on Steve’s cock. Adding to it something far beyond your experience, surely would kill you. 
You slid your arms around Steve's back, your touch hungry to feel each ripple of his muscles. 
For all things you could complain about Steve, his body was a fucking wonder. 
And it's all mine to enjoy, your own possessive inner beast purred proudly. 
You squirmed, wincing slightly when Steve eased a second finger into you. He paused, digits buried deep, but unmoving.
 “Sore?” His eyes took in every detail of your face; from the microgrimaces to the way your pupils dilated and your irises shined. “Think you can take me one more time?”
“Ugh,” if you listened to the reasonable part of your brain, you’d put a stop to it. 
But it seemed Steve fucked out any reason from your brain, leaving only that raw, primal need to submit and subject to his demands.
“I want it.” Your hips rocked up into his hand; your nails needling the skin on his back. 
“I want you, too.” Steve licked over your bottom lip, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy. “I want you to feel all of me.”
Breath turning erratic, tiny whimpers cracked your voice as you snorted - “I’m pretty sure there’s an imprint of your cock inside me.” 
Steve’s soft chuckle tickled your chin. His blue eyes sparked, eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks. He looked down at you, holding your gaze as he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his shaft. 
“Sweet brat.” He crooned, pinning you in place as your body seized at the stretch. 
“I mean that I want you to sense what I’m feeling when I’m fucking you.” He inched agonizingly slow inside. 
Perhaps he thought it to be merciful, to do it slowly and gently. Or maybe the bastard thrived, knowing it was a maddening little suffering for you to feel him stretch wide your abused pussy. 
“You’re more coherent now, you can focus on the bond. Feel how I want you.” 
His hips pushed harder against you. Your legs fell wider apart, spread like a used ragdoll’s. With his weight and the force of his movement, Steve caused your hips to tilt upwards. 
It made his cock sink even deeper. 
The tip nestled against your cervix, yet he seemed to keep pushing and pushing, until all of him was sheathed within your stretched walls and his balls met your butt. 
“Feel how I love you.” Steve murmured and kissed you. 
Sensations burst inside you. Intense elation and overwhelming lust. Light and dark, an intoxicating combination of care and possessiveness. It rushed through your veins with rapture close in power to the peak of your heat. 
You never knew how love feels for others. To be honest, while you experienced falling in love before you never felt true love yourself, not a type different from how you loved your family. 
What you sensed through the bond was overpowering. Emotions that couldn’t be contained and which held determination to fight the world to keep their center protected - to keep you protected. 
It nearly brought tears to your eyes. 
You tightened your arms around Steve, clinging to him with all what was left of your strength. 
Your head fell back on the mattress, neck strained, offering him the gland he already marked as his. 
Your legs dangled limp, swaying with Steve’s each hard thrust. 
“Oh- ohh! Steve!” 
That you screamed his name when climaxing, not his designation, meant to him the world at that moment. 
While the primal side of Steve wanted you to call him your alpha when he fucked you in full heat, now that he showed you what his bonding meant and that it came from him - Steve - he hoped you accepted it. 
Accepted that he was offering you all of himself, not just hunting you down to be your alpha.
Steve shuddered above you as one of your hands slid up, your fingers weaving in his hair and you weakly pulled his head down to yours. 
“You’re everywhere.” You muttered deliriously, eyes clenched shut and streaks of tears trailing down your temples. “I’m all filled with you.” 
You undid him with those words, though you weren’t even aware of anything beside his hot cum spilling inside you and the wave of blinding tranquility pouring through the bond. 
“Fucking love you.” Steve whispered into your hair as he gathered you in his arms, rolling to the side and pulling you along with him. 
You came to your senses sooner this time, but instead of switching your attention to reality, you sank further into Steve’s embrace and the hues of deep, soft emotions pulsing through you with each beat of his heart. 
It was impossible to comprehend the complexity of feelings which Steve bore for you. Could it be love? It certainly felt stronger than what even the most dramatic romances described. 
You weren’t sure if you’ll be able to ever feel anything akin to it. 
It crushed you to think how broken Steve would be, if your feelings for him never reached such height. 
For now, you relished in his closeness. Maybe it was the subsiding heat and post-orgasmic tranquility, but for the first time you allowed yourself to fully submerge into this intimacy with Steve. And you realized how much you liked his proximity, how safe and at peace you felt with him. 
Surprisingly, you also became aware that when he pulled on your pigtails and provoked certain bratty reactions from you, despite the annoyance and the need to rebel, his presence always made you feel secure. 
You stirred when Steve’s hand, with which he was caressing your back, tugged on your hair. With a hum you craned your neck to peer up at him.
“Want to take a shower?” He asked, reminding you of the filthy state of your body.
Steve was pretty ruined too, but somehow it was you that surely painted a picture of disgusting debauchery. Though you left quite a few scratches all over his body, he wasn’t the one covered in bruises and cum. 
“I really do, but-” heat burned under the skin of your face and you hid it in his chest again.
“But what?” Steve asked curiously.
“But I fear that if I stand up, not only will I leak buckets, but my legs will give out.” You blurted on a single breath, not looking up. 
Steve laughed, his chest shaking with a purring rumble beneath your cheek. It only grew in resonance when you did lift your head to glare at him. 
“Yeah, you’ll be leaking for days.” He said it with a smug smirk. “But I can help with the other part.”
Before you knew it, Steve was out of the nest - fast and agile, as if he didn’t just have a few-days-long sex marathon. He picked you up easily, one arm behind your back the other under your knees. Your breath hitched in your lungs when he did that. 
As he carried you to the ensuite bathroom, you cast a glance at the mess of a nest on the huge bed. It didn’t look as perfect, or as comforting as it did when you built it. Worse, it bore crusted and fresh, shiny marks of intense coupling. 
The nests you built for your heats when you spent them alone at home were never ruined like that. There was rarely an item out of place once you were done. 
In the shower stall Steve had to keep your body up, since your legs really gave out when he put you down on your feet. You leaned against him, only slightly embarrassed as he cleaned your body. 
Steve was gentle in the way he touched you. Focused on caring for you, cherishing you, not once trying to use the situation to arouse you. Though some parts of your body responded to his touch anyway. 
You tried helping him wash, too, but your strained muscles made you less efficient. When Steve guided your soapy hand over the plains of his body, directing you in how to clean him, well… that worked you up more than his tender touching did. 
Afterwards, he sat you up on the bathroom counter and patted you dry before toweling himself off. Slipping on a pair of simple, gray sweatpants, he helped you into a fresh t-shirt of his. It was big enough to cover most of your butt. 
“Food or sleep?” Steve asked, lifting you up into his arms once again. 
“Both.” You yawned into his shoulder. 
“Feed you while you’re sleeping?” Steve snorted, carrying you out of the bathroom and out through the bedroom door. “That’s an interesting concept. How am I supposed to do that?”
“You’re the all knowing alpha. Figure something out.” 
A cheeky smile spread on your lips as you leaned your cheek against Steve’s shoulder. Seemed you found another positive side of having an alpha as your partner - you could be carried around and spoiled a bit.
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creedslove · 7 months
Text
THE MILLERS 💖 - HALLOWEEN EDITION🎃
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No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader
(This can be read as a Halloween 🎃 stand alone, or as a continuation of THE MILLERS 💖, that was also inspired by this post here)
Summary: Joel takes his son trick or treating on Halloween and you three spend a beautiful family moment together
Warnings: fluff, sweetness, Joel being the best dad in the world, sexual tension, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of breeding kink, allusions to smut
A/N: besties, I could go without boy dad!Joel, he's the perfect husband and dad to take our kid trick or treating, am I right? Enjoy it ❤️
2.4k words
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The moment Joel woke up that Halloween morning, Sammy was already all around him, so excited and wanting to play, but not only that, he couldn't wait until the evening came and it was time for his daddy to take him trick or treating. Joel on the other hand, had so many things to do at work, but he had already told Tommy and the other guys he would leave early, because there was no way he was going to run late for such special occasion with his life, as not showing up at all due to work wasn't even a possibility to begin with. 
You finished the scrambled eggs and served your husband a plate, Sammy played trucks on the living room carpet, he was never hungry in the morning, but he still ate a grape or two when you insisted on him too, but overall, all he wanted was to play and spend time with his daddy. Your heart was always swollen with pride to see how much your son loved his daddy and how similar they were. Joel was usually a tough man, but he was always so gentle and soft around his family, you knew you couldn't have chosen a better man to build a life with. 
Your husband sipped his coffee as he let out a satisfied moan at the taste of your breakfast and gently placed his big hand on yours, caressing it gently as he looked into your eyes 
"Is everything set for tonight? What about his costume?" 
"If by everything set you mean your son talking about it non-stop for the past week, then yeah, everything's set" you tilted your head and stared at him, Joel was such a handsome man, his features were both gorgeous and attractive and if you really could choose, you would like to drag him back to your room and and sit on his lap, kissing Joel for as long as you wanted and make sweet love to him. It was funny how it always alternated between the two of you; sometimes you wanted it hard and fast, you wanted him to be rough and sometimes all you wanted was to move your bodies in sync as you stared into each other's eyes. 
"I was hoping we could spend some alone time after trick or treating, you know…" you bit your lips and he picked the clue immediately, his hand left yours and went down the table, stroking your thigh very gently at first, even if his rough calloused hand didn't need much more than a ghostly touch to get you all worked up. 
"Am I neglecting you, baby girl?" He raised his eyebrow and made you blush softly, at the same time you shook your head, Joel Miller would never neglect his woman and her needs, but he had been busy for the past few days, and with a small toddler at home, it was pretty much a miracle when the two of you were actually full of energy enough to fool around a little bit. His hand now squeezed your thigh, running it up and down and appreciating the effect he had on you; Joel Miller was an addiction to you, no matter if you'd been married for a few years and if you had a baby together, he was still the one you craved and desired the most in your life. 
However, as life with toddlers wasn't easy at all, the moment you were ready to spice up a little bit, perhaps kissing his neck and nibbling his weak spot or casually resting your hand over his crotch, but tiny steps interrupted any flirting that was going on as your son's beautiful face lit up in a smile 
"Daddy! Morning!!!" He cheered excitedly and rushed to his papa Joel, climbing his lap and getting comfortable. He eyed his dad's plate and tiny fingers stole some of his scrambled eggs and you chuckled, it wasn't about breakfast, it was about his dad's breakfast. Sammy loved his daddy with all his little heart and cherished every single minute he could spend with him, to which Joel also appreciated and did his best to make sure it happened very often. 
Your husband chuckled and placed both hands on Sammy's tummy, holding him tight against his body and resting his chin on his head. His brown curls smelled so good, as you were always so careful with hygiene and you made sure to bathe your son every day. Sammy's hands rested over his dad's. The contrast between his tiny ones and his dad's big ones also made your heart clench. Your life was so good and a part of you feared it was just too good to be true. As Joel questioned Sammy about his costume, your son told him all about it. He was excited to go as an octopus, which surprised the both of you, you knew Sammy had taken an interest in sea animals after his uncle Tommy had let him watch 'Meg' in a very irresponsible move, your son seemed to be fascinated by such animals, so you assumed his chosen costume would be a shark, however, not long after he watched the movie, Sarah came home one weekend and made sure to take him to visit the aquarium and after that, your son seemed obsessed with sea animals. Apparently, octopuses were his favorite at the moment, judging by how frequently he drew them all over his sheets of paper. The fact that Sarah, Joel and uncle Tommy all bought him all sorts of illustrated magazines and books about sea animals, made him even happier. So when he told you about the costume, you had to drive around a little to find a good one, but when you did, your son was in love with what he was seeing. He was just so excited and happy, he wanted to wear it every single day and if you hadn't told him he should make his costume a surprise for his daddy Joel, you were sure he would've thrown a tantrum over not wearing the outfit every single day, but instead, he kept it a secret - and by secret he actually told his daddy every single detail of it - which very often made you and Joel laugh together. 
When your husband announced he was going to work, your son sighed disappointed and Joel felt as if something pierced through his heart. He really needed to take a vacation some time soon, he couldn't handle seeing how upset his baby boy was each time he had to leave and also how much you missed him on a daily basis. 
"Stay daddy, please…" he said with puppy eyes and you took his tiny hand 
"Daddy has to work my angel, you know he would stay if he could, right? But he will be back soon and we will go trick or treating tonight, remember the pumpkins we carved? We'll light them up and they'll look so nice…" you told him and played with his curls, so he nodded obediently as Joel painfully had to put him down and walk to his truck. 
You knew Joel would spend a lot more with you both if he could, but since it wasn't possible, you invited your son to run some errands with you in order to distract him until it was time to trick or treat. 
                            •••
Your son was running happily through the backyard as he loved playing with the plushie tentacles of his costume. He was so excited to be finally dressed up for Halloween and the fact the street was slowly getting more and more illuminated by the all the pumpkins and decorations his little heart was racing like crazy out of excitement and expectation, but nothing, even compared to the moment he saw his daddy's truck parking in the driveway. He squealed the word 'daddy' at the top of his little lungs and rushed as fast as his legs allowed him to, the butterflies in his tummy being so much he even slipped and fell, unharmed, simply getting up on his own and jumping on Joel the moment his daddy opened his arms to welcome him in a tight embrace. Joel chuckled and wrapped his arms tightly around his boy, his sweet Sammy could look like him, physically, but he was all his mommy, his intelligence, his wit and that tooth rotting sweetness he could have only inherited from you. 
"You look amazing, buddy!? You scared me for a while! I thought an octopus had invaded our garden" he tickled his son's tummy who giggled hysterically and wrapped his arms around his daddy's neck 
"You're silly daddy" he giggled and smiled big once you walked to them, you hadn't properly dressed up, but you did throw a nice black outfit, some boots, a darker makeup and a witch hat 
"You're so pretty mommy!" Sammy cheered and clapped his little hands and you pretended not to see your husband eying you up and down. You kissed your son's forehead and nodded 
"Are you boys ready to go? Uncle Tommy says he'll stay in and hand candies to the kids…" you frowned as you tilted your head "Sammy… we have a problem, we can't go trick or treating without daddy putting on a costume" you winked at Joel who shot an annoyed look at you, but the moment his son agreed and began blabbering about how important it was that he got dressed, you chuckled and handed him a hockey mask. 
"There you go, you already got the shirt and now the mask, now we can scare some little kids" 
"More like scare dickheads who dare staring at your ass, darling" he leaned towards you and whispered into your ear, giving your neck a quick peck while Sammy ran to the front porch to grab his pumpkin-shaped basket of candy. 
It wasn't the first time you three went trick or treating together, but the year before Sammy was still too little to understand it fully and enjoy everything that was happening, unlike that special evening you spent walking around the neighborhood with your family, it felt special, the kind of special you snapped a picture or two to keep it as a memory but not more than that, so you wouldn't be glued to your phone the entire time. Joel took your hand as Sammy walked a couple of meters ahead of you, his basket was full of candy and he cheered each time he found someone looking interesting or even scary, as he wasn't afraid at all. 
Joel looked at you with soft eyes, removing his stupid mask 
"You look gorgeous tonight, you know that?" He pulled you by the waist and smirked "once our little one falls asleep it's time for us to enjoy our Halloween and you're so damn teasing with this witch bitch costume I might just get you pregnant again" 
"What?!" You widened your eyes at his words and couldn't help but let out a nervous laughter "another baby?" 
Joel shrugged and kissed your lips 
"Imagine a year from now, Sammy will be trick or treating with his baby sister, would you like that?" You take a deep breath, taking a look at him as you lick your lips 
"Well… I don't know… would you like that?" You asked him, after hearing Joel call himself old over and over, complain about how he doesn't have energy to catch up with Sammy and how his back hurt, you assumed having a second baby was off the table. However, seeing his hopeful eyes, the way he looked at his and the way he looked at all the other kids, you could tell maybe he actually meant that. 
"Do you think I'd joke about that? If I didn't want it, I wouldn't have mentioned it but if you don't want then it's fine, I mean, you're still young an-" 
You interrupted him with a kiss, of course you wanted if he wanted, having a family with Joel Miller was the best decision you'd ever taken, there was no way you could pass that up. 
"Mommy, daddy!" Sammy called the two of you, he was dragging his basket since it got so full he couldn't lift it up, you chuckled helping him with the candy as Joel lifted him up. You knew your son well enough to see he was already tired, no matter how hard he tried to fight sleep, rubbing his eyes was the only thing he could do as he rested against his dad's chest. Still falling asleep in Joel's arms, you both got home, Tommy was just finishing with the candy leftovers and widened his eyes the moment he saw Sammy's 
"Really? Stealing candy from a two-year-old?" Joel raised his eyebrow annoyed at his brother, but you tugged his sleeve, showing him it was time to put Sammy in bed. He helped you take the costume off and it was alright if your son skipped showering for one night, he didn't even wait for dinner, but it was alright, because the next day he would eat a delicious big breakfast you made him and your husband. 
As you and Joel went downstairs, he pulled you by the waist, sitting on the couch and taking you with him.
"Have you talked to Sarah?" You ask nuzzling his neck as you know how much he missed his daughter 
"We video chatted during my lunchtime… she is very pretty and she was going to a party" he said with a hint of sadness in his voice, it was painful for him to see his little girl growing up so much, so you nodded and snuggled him. You placed your hand on his stomach, gently scratching down his belly as you pecked his cheek and then went for Joel's lips 
"So your desire for a new baby was just because Sarah has grown up too fast or you actually wanna do it?" You asked him gently, his arm pulling you even closer as he shrugged 
"I don't know… I want it but I'm also scared… it's a lot of trouble, it's a lot of money and Sammy is still so small, he needs us so much. But at the same time it's about having another little version of you, running around, playing and melting my old heart, I can't decide" 
"You don't have to decide anything right now, Joel, but we could get started, couldn't we?" You whispered against his ear, to which he kissed you.
Joel wasn't very sure if he wanted another baby or not, but he was so happy to have you and Sammy in his life. He loved his little family with all his heart and there was nothing he could ask for other than live a world of happiness with the two of you. 
____
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riizeblr · 4 months
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rating: 18+. mdni.
content: stalking, noncon, stalker!eunseok x reader
eunseok had been infatuated with you for months. it was all somewhat innocent at first, a little crush on another pretty girl he served daily. never coffee, never tea, but a simple cup of hot chocolate. eunseok thought it was strange for someone like you to get such a drink, but he made it happily. he remembered a satisfied grin overtaking his usually stoic features when you blew against the lid one time, scalding your tongue as you eagerly sipped. you repeated this routine, making eunseok more intrigued by the day with every cute quirk and sweet word.
he couldn’t get enough, leading him to watch you from the opposite side of campus, hood pulled over his head like he was doing something wrong. but he wasn’t. he wasn’t harassing you, he wasn’t invading your space, or disrupting your routines you seemed to adhere to. eunseok wouldn’t dare mess with that. he saw the way a single second off schedule worried your pretty little head.
eunseok had quickly began adamantly watching your social media after asking for your name and scribbling it down against the side of your cup, loving the way his fingers twirled around each letter like he was meant to spell it. he lurked on your frequent posts and nonsensical tweets. updates on your day, your every thought, your location, making it so easy for eunseok to learn everything about you. he watched you closely, thinking that he knew it all until he saw an unfamiliar username splayed across your phone screen beside the button labeled “edit profile”. it made eunseok furrow he’s brows in intrigue, making note of the pseudonym as he handed you your steaming cup of hot chocolate.
eunseok couldn’t have been more shocked by what he found. a hidden account displaying your most desired taboo kinks, and a pretty picture of your plush lips wrapped around a cherry-flavored lollipop. eunseok scrolled eagerly through your countless pleading twitter posts on your hidden account you swore no one would ever find.
so, eunseok didn’t understand why you were crying, struggling against his hands and kicking your feet as you babbled unintelligible strained words from your quivering lips. this is what you wanted. you wrote of how deeply you desired this very moment. a strange masked man forcing his way into your home after weeks of taunting, and scaring you and making you feel vulnerable and defenseless. the same man forcing himself onto you, taking what he pleases and nothing less while you were pinned down and made to take it.
eunseok was simply making it come true. it helped that he found himself enjoying the process more than he thought. he just loved to watch you, observe you. he began to crave every hitched breath and shifty glance behind you as you hurried home, nighttime coming early as the seasons changed. he liked the worried texts to your friends and the useless self defense moves you practiced in your living room.
you stopped using the account, the begs for someone to become so obsessed with you that they would go to great lengths to have you coming to an end with the snap of a finger. perhaps you thought eunseok was enough, too. you didn’t need anyone else.
eunseok was making it clear tonight, showing you that he would oblige to all your wants and needs. eunseok had broken in, knocking your cute knickknacks off your shelves to scare you, calling out your name and menacing phrases to taunt you, taking heavy, slow steps through the hallway towards your bedroom with a mask covering his face. even eunseok knew he looked a little crazed, but he couldn’t help it. he was finally taking you.
you played such a pretty victim, too. a perfect little thing that was so easy to catch. of course you would be, you were begging for it. eunseok found it so fun to rip off your clothes after he pounced, taking in the sight of your bare skin and the look of pure terror on your face. he hoped you were enjoying it as much as he was.
though, by the look of it, it didn’t seem like you were. or maybe you were just that good of an actress. but eunseok found he couldn’t care less when he felt your scorching heat against his cock, your slick folds and winking hole screaming for him to use you relentlessly. you begged and begged and it was music to his ears.
he only wished he could pull his mask from his face and plant his lips against yours. but he wouldn’t, because that isn’t what you wanted. you pleaded for an impersonal, and brutal encounter and that is what eunseok was going to give you.
and if you really didn’t want it, perhaps you should’ve been more careful on the internet.
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greycaelum · 1 year
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Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters { Blue }
—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
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𑁍 Synopsis: a date with Satoru and finally knowing your Sunshine's gender
𑁍 Genre: family theme, fluff, very mild angst if you squint, comfort
𑁍 CW/TW: (2.6k)—pregnancy, domesticity, suggestive content, kisses, mild profanity, mentions of pregnancy fear, overall fluff
𑁍 Grey ✒️☕: this chapter is dedicated for { @afortoru } thank you for being here pretty one, I'm delighted to meet you and know you even in such short time! So for now let this be your bookmark in this lil'corner and my good luck charm for you —XOXO
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Satoru diligently packed several tumblers of the chilled fresh orange juice in the bag along with some packed lunch and oranges. He knows how cute you look whenever your cravings are satisfied. After all, no one wants a grumpy pregnant wifey.
Now, he just has to wait for you to get ready, so both of you can go.
Having two children, naughty ones at that, and with an incoming one or more, people often wondered how the two of you are doing in your marriage. Hopeless as he is, Satoru knows he's often away and he has to make up for it.
"Love, helpppp!" You hollered from upstairs sending him to a mini heart attack, traversing the kitchen to the bedroom in one warp.
There you are standing in front of the mirror in a powder blue maternity jumper dress, holding a pair of socks with a pout on your lips. He could see the little beads of sweat forming on your temples, telling your struggle before you called out for him. Your 26 weeks bump, which he could say is a little bigger than usual, is making it harder for you to bend.
Pretty little thing. You're gonna make him crazy with your antics. 
"Really? We're inside the house and you go warping around?"
"Well, someone's trying to give me a scare with her bloody scream." Satoru chuckles and takes the sock in your hand, guiding you by the hip to the nearby chair while he kneels and holds your swollen foot.
He has seen you swollen with his child two times and still seeing you waddling around with your pretty baby bump gets his nerves giddy and his heart fluttering.
"What are you grinning about, Love?" You owlishly blinked at him.
"Mnnn, that you're really beautiful." Satoru smiled. And he meant it, so much that after all these years he thinks his crush on you never faded. The way you giggled at his compliment as he kisses the peak of your bump is so calming he wants to keep you in his arms all day long.
But that's for another time. He's got plans for you today.
"Could you now tell me where we are going?" You stare at Satoru and huff. He never told you anything about this date. Only telling you to dress comfortably and dragging you to walk somewhere you don't know.
"Later you'll see."
Your arm loosely hang around Satoru's waist, while the other held your orange juice occasionally sharing a sip with Satoru while waiting for the green lights at the crossroads. Satoru held your shoulders to keep you from bumping into anything, while his other arm carried your bag.
From time to time gazes fall on the two of you, walking past the neighborhood. It's not usual to see a couple walking around leisurely. Satoru paired your look with his loose white button-up shirt tucked in his blue chinos and a pair of white topsider going for a cutesy blue and white palette for your date.
"Oh, is that your first? Such beautiful parents for a little one." One of the grandmothers in the neighborhood greeted the two of you. Walking around, there are times pleasant people greet you for small talk, especially seeing you with a baby.
"Thank you, it's actually the third." Satoru grinned proudly, his hand that was on your shoulder slid down to rub your belly.
Show off. You snorted and thanked the lovely lady.
"Really 'Toru, where are you going?" It's not the usual district you go strolling around. It's been a while since you had a walk around the town. Being swollen and pregnant easily exhausts you, opting you to be a couch potato in the house after sending off the kids to school.
Satoru knows that that's why he arranged this little excursion for the two of you. Away from looking after the kids, and just simply as a couple.
"We're..." Satoru trailed off and halted in front of a tall building. "Here it is, ta-dah!"
"Palettes & Paint" you read the artistic signboard of a cozy-looking cafe with floor-to-ceiling window walls and inside is a vintage brown vibe space.
You let him pull you in, donning the apron over you, and sat on a corner with different kinds of paint and paper. While you're not particularly inclined to do this, watching Satoru focused on his canvas, mixing paint and all is a sight in itself. Besides you are snacks and some creamy drinks Satoru ordered.
"Why painting, Love?" Mindlessly you brush the stray hair over Satoru's forehead and propped your elbow to support your cheeks.
"Nothing, just thought it'd be nice for Sunshine to enjoy art." Satoru turned to you and grinned. "You're staring, Baby"
"Uh-huh, which baby do you mean?." You smiled and went back to your canvas.
"My first Baby."
Satoru inches closer and press a kiss on your cheeks, and went back to his work with a boyish grin. Satoru watch your lips pursed, hiding the smile blooming on your face.
"I'm going for a doctor's appointment, they said we can finally see the gender. Do you have time this Friday, Love?" Carefully you draw a cute snout on your painting.
Satoru has been looking forward to this moment. Kouki and Saika have been bantering about the little one's gender. For Satoru, he is fine in any way, he's just so happy right now that he can't think much of the gender. 
"Of course, I need to be there. What do you think of our Sunshine's gonna be?"
Your hand froze, and setting down your brush you look at the painting you made. It's a cute white wolf, with equally blue eyes as Satoru has.
"A boy... I guess." You chuckled lightly. Poor Saika if that ever happens, she'll have a riot every day with all the boys in the house.
A boy huh? Satoru brushed his chin.
Lately, he has been visioning a little girl looking so much like you. Crawling all around the house. Saika and Kouki would fawn at her so much, knowing those two were asking for a sibling that has your hair. And he too, wants to see a baby looking so much like you.
"Love? You're spacing out."
Satoru snaps out of it and laughs to himself. Thoughts of babies with you are his distraction.
"I think it's a girl."
"Really?" You laughed. "Kouki's gonna be overpowered by his sisters."
Looking at you right now. Glowing and happy like this, he thinks that maybe he should bring you out more often. There's that trend going on about a babymoon. Going to the ocean with you and the kids sounds nice. But he thinks that if he sees you in a bikini, Satoru would go batshit feral. Seeing his wife is all sexy and pregnant with his baby, even for him is too much.
You're the best mother for the kids and the best wife to him. Always making sure the house is ready when they get home. Arranges stuff that he can't handle in the Gojo Estate. Your patience must be that of a saint, knowing Satoru is often away and you have to deal with more than you can handle. Having obligations is already enough, but watching over two kids as well...
You're really strong and smart to handle it all and still love him without hating his lacking.
"We should go together in your Lamaze classes." Satoru brush away the stray hair on your cheeks. "I only got to do it thrice with you."
Once with Kouki, and twice with Saika. His schedule back then was such a mess that even on weekends he has work. Satoru's eyes landed on your baby bump.
But for this little one, time couldn't be more perfect with the relatively peaceful period.
"Oh, by the way, what are you drawing Love?"
"Hmmm?" Satoru showed you his canvas. "Hey! What's with your constipated face? This is art y'know!"
"No matter what you say it looks more horrible than a grade 3 student's doodle." Perhaps it's time Satoru accepts the only thing he's good at mixing colors is his curse techniques.
You promised the two munchkins that you'll pick them up from school after the doctor's appointment. Satoru has to slip in a little more bribing just to ease up the two cats who were ready to sulk after hearing they can't come with you to see their baby sibling.
"Hi Mrs. Gojo, are you ready to know your baby's gender?"
It was a split second but you certainly felt someone stiffened. You turned to see Satoru smiling at you, except that his forehead is a little sweaty even with the air conditioning.
Silly one...
The sonographer applied the gel and the transducer and let you relax. Satoru held your hand, while his eyes are so focused on the monitor. The sonographer is explaining the position of the baby.
"Is that the eyes?" Satoru's jaws fell open. "He just opened his eyes!" Satoru looks at you, shock written all over his face. You could swear he grew pale by several degrees. You have to hold his hand a little tighter because Satoru is too blown away that he doesn't notice his palms are sweating coldly.
"Ah yes, the baby's eyes are partially open by 26 weeks, but don't worry it's not yet the final shade of his eyes." The sonographer kindly explains this to your flabbergasted husband.
"Hey, Love. Are you okay? You're so pale." You chuckled as Satoru brought the back of your palms to his lips, kissing it over and over again. It's not like it's his first time, but damn does it makes him so nervous.
Seems like the sonographer can tell as she finally asks the question.
"Would you like me to write down the gender—" but the sonographer froze all of a sudden, all eyes glued to the screen.
"Uhm, is that another head am I seeing?" You blinked several times to confirm your vision.
"Uh, I think we need a second opinion here." The sonographer looks at you, nodding at your question.
There are cases of pregnancies where you're pregnant, and got pregnant again, maybe days or weeks apart, but certainly carrying two babies at the same time. There are very rare cases called superfetation. In most cases, it was made possible by artificial reproductive technology, but yours was simply a miracle.
"So I'm technically pregnant at the same time, but it's not twins?" You look at your ob-gyne. The fear starts to creep in with the sudden revelation.
"Yep, that is right. And judging from your ultrasound, they're growing one week apart. The little one here has successfully hidden behind the older one until now." Your doctor smiled at you.
Satoru has been listening, and he's blown away by this.
"What do we need to do to keep my wife and babies safe? Complications? Treatments? Does she need medicines? Listen the money doesn't matter. I just need my wife and kids, safe." He's adamant about this. Desperate is an understatement. There's no way he'll gamble about you or his kids.
"Love calm down." You reach for his hand. Even if your mind is reeling too.
"To be honest, the thing that we should look out for most is the babies' growth. The older one may be ready for birth while the younger one is still not. But seeing that they're only one week apart, that lessens our worries." You Ob-Gyne assured you with a bright smile. "I know this sounds very daunting, but despite this unseen situation, it's possible for both babies to be born fully developed and completely healthy."
Several thoughts are running through Satoru's head. This is fine, he has to support you. This is totally fine. There are cases of mothers pregnant with four kids at the same time. That's right, he should be more mindful so he can keep an eye on you and your delicate situation.
But damn, were his little swimmers that strong to get you pregnant twice? Guess, staying up all night romping on the bed really did a number on you.
Flick
"Owww!" Satoru rubs his forehead and looks at you, your brow raised at him.
"Seems like Mr. Gojo is too excited to even listen." Your OB chuckled and opened a small paper. "So, would you like to hear the gender?"
"Can you just write it Doc? We wanna open it with our kids." Feeling the way Satoru grips your palms. You couldn't agree more with him. Satoru discussed more with the doctor while you waited. He was meticulous about your vitamins and symptoms he should look out for. Seeing him going through almost everything somehow eases your nerves.
But really you're scared. Can you handle two children at the same time? What if you can do it? You'll end up neglecting one or the other, or your body can't take all at once that you'll—
"Shhh, I'm right here." Satoru brought your head to his chest, feeling the reality sinking in as the clinic doors close. "I'm right here, Baby."
You nodded, just listening to Satoru's heartbeat and cooing until your emotions and hormones calm down.
Leaving the hospital you're feeling clammy with the sudden news. You're never ready for this. Is this why you're more adept at your cravings? Or feeling more clingy with Satoru in the morning... 
The chauffer discreetly pulled up the partition to give his madame and sire privacy.
"Baby." Satoru brought you out of your trance. "The kids are in the house, do you want me to pick up a cake or something on our way?"
You nodded absentmindedly. Satoru could see your thoughts are still suspended in the air.
"I know this is scary for you, for us. But I couldn't wish for more, and just so y'know, I would do everything in my power to protect you, the mother of my kids, and these little ones here." Satoru protectively laid his palm over your belly, caressing the bump before pressing a soft kiss on your lips. "And you two in there, better not give okaa-chan a hard time or else otou-chan's not gonna share my strawberry daifuku with you anymore." Satoru huffs seriously.
It's gonna be alright...
Your lat your head on Satoru's shoulder, inhaling his scent. This time he really did took a bath with the soap you gave him, so he's not stinky.
"I want to eat chiffon cake 'Toru. I'm so hungry."
"Hai, hai, anything for you Honey."
"And we should make a bet, the loser will change the diapers."
"Yes Ma'am." Satoru shakes his head. Even if he wins he knows he'll be the one to change the diapers anyway.
The car didn't even pull up but the front door busted open with Kouki and Saika running to greet you both.
"Mama! Mama! How was it? Is it a sister?"
"It's a brother, right Mama?"
Satoru ushered you three inside the house while holding the chiffon cake.
Kouki immediately ran to the genkan and help you out on your slipper while Saika held your hand to keep your balance. Kouki did the same for his Papa.
"Mama are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?" Sai look at you with a worried look on her face as she climbs on the couch beside you.
"I have orange juice Mama," Kouki ran to the kitchen bringing you a tumbler of chilled fresh orange juice immediately lightening your mood.
"Mama's fine, sweetie. Thank you sweetheart. You see, Mama and Papa has a surprise for you!"
You glance at Satoru bringing out the cake with a lit candle on it. Totally unnecessary but who are you to question your husband's shenanigans? Even if you said no, he'll do it anyways.
You brought out the envelope from the ob-gyne and the kids are squealing in excitement. Kouki clung to your arm so tight and Saika was giggling as she waved at her Papa to sit down.
"Let's see." Satoru set the cake down on the table and joined the huddle, putting Saika on his lap while Kouki curled under your arm.
"It's a girl..." Saika gasp.
"It's a boy!" Kouki cheered.
They were jumping up and down, realization finally sinking in until they stopped and looked at you and their Papa smiling so wide.
"Why is it two?!" They chorused.
You hit Satoru's chest, keeping your laughter contained, while Satoru chuckled sweeping in to kiss you senseless.
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey
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suashii · 5 months
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— 𝓈𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉 ౨ৎ
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kaeya alberich x reader. 1.3k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ pining ノ alcohol ノ reader is tipsy
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when kaeya enters angel’s share tavern, he expects to be met with the usual sight—the six-fingered bar at the front door, the bartender wiping glasses clean, and knights that finished their patrols prior to him scattered about the establishment. and, for the most part, the scene is the same. it’s only when he’s on his way to snag a seat at the bar that he spots a familiar yet unlikely figure, alone, slumped over one of the many tables.
perhaps this night will be more interesting than he thought.
instead of sitting at the bar, he simply places his order there, having decided to join his unexpected friend. “a death after noon, charles.” kaeya points to the table where he’s headed. “and could you bring it to that table? i’ll be over there.”
with the bartender’s nod, the heels of kaeya’s boots click against the wooden floors as he approaches you. he chuckles under his breath upon getting a better look at you and the position you’ve found yourself in. your head is resting on one of your arms folded on the table, the other loosely hanging by your side. your eyes aren’t quite closed yet but they’re fluttering shut, eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks as you fend off the sandman.
kaeya is almost tempted to leave you be and let you sleep, but this isn’t the safest place to do so. besides, it’s been a while since he’s last seen you in mondstadt and he isn’t sure when you’ll be back after this.
“well, well, well,” kaeya starts, making himself comfortable on the chair across from you, “look what the wind blew in.”
startled, you sit up at the voice and blink, letting your eyes adjust to the character who wasn’t with you only a few minutes ago. you recognize the blue hair, the brown skin, the eyepatch—but your head is swimming with a delightful dizziness that keeps you from recalling his name.
“m-maeya?”
“close,” he draws out the vowel, a grin tugging at his lips, “it’s kaeya—with a K.”
“kaeya!” you exclaim, the exclamation punctuated by a tipsy hiccup that makes kaeya’s visible eye crinkle at the corner with his smile. “that’s right.” 
the fact that you’d forgotten his name sends a short pang to kaeya’s chest, though, the glee you exhibit upon remembering it makes his heart float uncomfortably high in his throat.
he holds a gloved fist to his mouth before clearing his throat, periwinkle eye flitting to the side when the bartender appears with his drink. it’s a welcome and needed distraction, kaeya thinks, taking a sip from his glass. the liquid acts as courage, urging him to continue with the conversation.
“what brings you back to mondstadt?” his voice is inquisitive but not interrogative—not that you would be able to tell the difference in your current state.
you grin as you think about the reasoning behind your impromptu visit. “paimon said she was craving the cuisine.”
he snickers at the reminder of your perpetually hungry winged companion. though, the next sip of his drink is overly bitter knowing that nothing else—no one else— contributed to your journey back here.
“where’s the little fairy now?” kaeya asks, gaze searching for your floating guide before it lands back on you. “too full for some apple juice?”
you snort and lazily nod, careful not to aggravate your swimming head. “she’s knocked out at the inn.”
kaeya hums in understanding after taking another sip of his drink. he doesn’t mind paimon, but he’ll admit that her absence at the moment is favorable; it’s rare that he ever gets to see you alone between her and your work with the knights. not that he’s sure what exactly he plans on saying or doing now that he’s found you wandering on your own.
he supposes that simply being in your presence is satisfying enough. no matter how often jean, lisa, or amber pestered him about it, he never outwardly confessed to missing you. though, now that you’re here and there’s no one around him to tease him for it, kaeya can acknowledge that your departure affected him more than he cared to admit.
he isn’t entirely sure just why that is but. if he had to guess, he’d put his mora on it having something to do with the way his heart has been fluttering in his chest ever since he sat down with you.
“so, how long do the two of you plan on sticking around?” kaeya asks, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. he thinks the question is innocent enough, that it doesn’t sound like he’s trying to figure out how long it’ll be until he has to part with you again.
“mm,” you hum and shrug, “until paimon loses her appetite, i guess.”
sounds like kaeya will have to introduce the little fairy to some more staple dishes of mondstadt if he wants to keep you here for a while longer.
“speaking of paimon,” you stretch your arms up in the air with something between a groan and a yawn, “i should probably go check on her.”
“let me walk you back,” kaeya suggests. it’s almost as if his mouth moves with the offer quicker than his brain has time to comprehend. the swiftness of his words seems to have even caught you by surprise. luckily, he’s just as quick to mask his eagerness. “i wouldn’t be much of a knight if i didn’t.”
you smile at the addition as you come to stand—kaeya joining you—and giggle to yourself. “all you’re missing is the shining armor.”
kaeya grins. he wonders if you really see him that way or if it’s just a drunken joke. he hopes it’s the former.
“shall we go?”
the cavalry captain covers his tab and yours before the two of you leave the tavern. a cool breeze blows through the air, tickling your nose and making kaeya’s hair dance with the wind. you find yourself instinctively leaning closer to him so that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. the scent wafting off of him is one of wood and musk and you wonder if it’s cologne or simply a result of his duties. either way, it’s familiar—something you’ve missed since moving on from mondstadt.
well, one thing, anyway.
the walk is slow and virtually silent, save for the few citizens still out for the night and the occasional call of an owl. you don’t mind the quiet and neither does kaeya, each of you independently attempting to draw out the short stretch to the inn. though, the building comes into sight sooner than you hope. 
“now that you’re here safe, i should be off,” kaeya breathes out, disappointment lacing his voice. he starts in the direction of his quarters, waving over his shoulder. “farewell.”
“wait, kaeya!”
the man turns around at the sound of your voice, periwinkle iris gleaming under the moonlight with curiosity. you stand with your hands joined behind your back, a sleepy smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “i’m really glad i got to see you.”
“oh?” kaeya isn’t sure what he was expecting you to say, but it wasn’t that. he can feel a warmth creeping up his neck as he sits on the words—lets them stick. he’s sure he looks foolish standing so still, so quiet, but it takes him a moment to speak up. “well, the feeling is mutual.”
he waves you goodbye—for real this time—before setting off.
you don’t tell him you went to the tavern hoping that you’d run into him. after all, some secrets are meant to be kept hidden.
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sua shamelessly loving on kaeya :3 if you enjoyed, consider reblogging and offering feedback pls!
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collapsedglasshouses · 8 months
Note
hello! 💕 i love your writing so much! i usually don’t make requests but i was wondering if you could do like a cute cozy night in with noah??? maybe wine drunk, handsy, cuddles, and some smut if you are comfy doing that? :) i can see him getting a lil handsy and affectionate but also saying sweet things. i just love the idea. thank you :)
Lips Like Wine [Noah Sebastian x Reader]
A/N: Such a cute request and exactly what I need right now. Thank you for requesting! ♡
PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x fem!Reader
SUMMARY: When Noah surprises Y/N with her favourite snacks and wine, she didn’t expect the night to evolve like it did.
WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, NSFW, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, ...
TAGLIST: @measuredingold (if you wanna become part of my taglist in general, pls let me know and i love @measuredingold , did I already say ily , @measuredingold ?)
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
The ring of your bell woke you up at around 11 PM. 
To your surprise, you found yourself on your couch with your favorite blanket wrapped around you. You must have slept in after dinner because your favorite show was still quietly playing on your TV. 
You mumbled tiredly while getting up and making your way to the door. After a quick look through your door viewer, a little smile grew on your face, and you opened the door excitedly. 
"What are you doing here, sir?" You asked your friend, who had a shy smile on his face, before revealing your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine he held behind your back. 
"Did I wake you?" He wanted to know and gave you an apologetic look when you nodded slightly. 
"Don't be sorry, work was catastrophic today." You let him in before he laid down his goodies and quickly wrapped his arms around you. You let out a satisfied hum while rubbing his back. "I missed you, Noah." - "Believe me, I missed you more." 
You first met Noah last summer while they toured with A Day To Remember. You had been hired as the tour co-manager, meaning you knew about everything and everyone. Likewise, you somehow ended up keeping a tradition after the show where you would meet after the official celebrations and eat a couple of snacks together while getting wine drunk. 
Something, however, had changed over the last few months. You and your ex-boyfriend, whom you had been dating for over four years, broke up right after said tour, causing you and Noah to become even closer. You weren't mad about it, the fact of the breakup was that you two had definitely fallen out of love. You noticed when you stopped seeking closeness with your ex-boyfriend. 
What worried you, though, was how easily you started to crave those touches from Noah. Every time you were together, you felt like you needed to be closer to him. Your favorite thing to do at the moment was watch silly little movies with him when you had rough days. Keeping this in mind, you were more than happy to see him standing there, surprising you with what you needed the most. 
"Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be on the other side of the country?" You asked him after getting two wine glasses and sitting down on your couch. Noah scratched his back lightly before he started to smile. 
"We had a couple of days off, and I was in desperate need of one of our wine nights." He confessed, making you blush a little. 
They were on tour at the moment, so you didn't expect to see him again until mid-October. There were a couple of moments of silence before you raised your voice again. "Do you wanna watch a Ghibli Studio Film?" - "I thought you'd never ask!" 
It took you less than ten minutes before the two of you laid under your blanket, sipping on your wine glasses while eating sour gummy worms and watching Howl's Moving Castle. 
In all honesty, the movie was entirely irrelevant to you. Your eyes were glued to Noah's lips while he told you about the concerts that had already happened. 
"How have your days been?" He then asked you while putting your glasses back on the table. "Actually, pretty boring. Except today, I couldn't finish anything at work." - "If you wanna sleep, I can go. It's really no prob-… " - "I'II drag your ass back to my couch if you try to leave." You interrupt your friend and grab his thigh over the blanket, causing him to look down at it for a moment. 
You immediately noticed it and tried to put your hand away, but he quickly held it in place. The temperature in the room instantly rose, and you felt this pleasant tingle in your stomach. 
You tried to defuse the rising tension by taking his hand in yours and looking at the tattoos on his hand, as if you hadn't done that hundreds of times before. Noah chuckled when he noticed you beginning to analyze the drawings on his hands again. 
Swiftly, he started drawing small circles on your hand. "Do you see something new?" His tone was teasing. He knew exactly what was going on, and it bugged you how he could handle everything so well, while you almost literally melted at everything he did. 
Honestly, you had already given up on Noah feeling anything at all for you beyond friendship. You just accepted your little get-togethers and enjoyed his company, even if it cost you your sanity. 
That's why it shocked you when Noah's hand gently brushed up your arm, giving you goosebumps. Your thoughts began to race as you froze. You were sure it was the wine speaking out of Noah's mouth when his hand landed under your chin. You felt yourself shiver slightly under his touch, and you started to crave it even more. 
Without even noticing, you slightly leaned into his touch. Your thoughts were having a race. You knew you needed to pull away, but this single touch made you feel like pudding next to him. 
You let him turn your head to face him. You looked him in the face. He had cut his hair shorter than usual. At first, you were a bit skeptical about it, but the longer you looked at him, the more you liked it. You wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. 
Then your eyes wandered. His eyes looked sleepy, while the dark brown of his irises nearly looked black. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his lips were slightly parted, while his gaze was fixated on your lips. 
You thought you were dreaming when his thumbs lightly brushed over your lips. 
"You think I didn't notice, am I right?" Noah almost whispered while his gaze was still fixated on your lips. You didn't know what to say. Even if you knew, you were sure your body would betray you. 
You needed all your strength not to crumble into pieces right in front of him. 
You knew you felt this weird attraction to him for way longer than you wanted to admit, but you didn't know how down bad you were for him. "This all has changed, am I right?" Noah then asked, and you swallowed hard while he stroked your cheek. You resisted the need to lean into his touch again. You couldn't let him win this easily. 
"Please tell me to stop, Y/N." He then almost cried out while leaning closer to you. Your heart started to race even faster. You knew you should have pulled away, but everything in you needed him closer. 
"Kiss me." You breathed out when your noses were almost touching. "You know I won't be able to stop." - "Than don't." 
With that, it was over for the both of you. 
His lips crashed into yours. You could taste the wine in his mouth while your hands landed on his chest and slowly made their way up to his neck. With a swift motion, he lifted you onto his lap. His hands instantly found their way under your shirt, while yours ran through his dark hair. Shortly after, your shirt found its way to your living room floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. 
His hands roamed your body while he started kissing your neck. You felt like you were burning. 
"We shouldn't do this." You almost moaned when his kisses reached your collarbone. He looked up at you through his eyelashes, almost making you crumble into small pieces. "Then tell me to stop." 
Your eyes locked while he placed small, soft kisses on your chest. "Tell me, Y/N, tell me to stop." Noah whispered and leaned closer to your face again. His hands found your hips and grabbed them harshly. You breathed out a small breath while he slowly started to move your hips. You felt how hard he was and couldn't believe it. It felt like the perfect fever dream. 
"Go on, tell me how you don't want me to fuck you." Noah almost groaned. "Tell me how you haven't thought about it every fucking time we met up in the last months." You swallowed hard. 
You were an open book to him. It felt like he read every single page of yours. You couldn't be silent any longer. "Fuck, you know I can't. You moaned out when his hand found your waistband, and before you knew it, he flipped the both of you over. 
With that, he kissed his way down your body and stopped at your waistband. "Let's get these off, love." He spoke in a low tone that made you shiver while his fingers tangled in the lace of your panties. You lifted your hips, and he quickly pulled them off, throwing them over the backrest of your couch. In a swift motion, he grabbed your hips again, pulling you closer to him and immediately connecting his mouth with your pussy. 
You whimpered as his tongue licked up your slit, swirling around your clit. It doesn't take him long to introduce his fingers, plunging two inside of you and moving them at a pace that made you squirm. 
"Look at you." Noah spoke against you, causing you to buck up your hips. "Fuck, I can't get enough of you." He almost moaned and let out a small laugh. 
You looked down at him between your legs, and your eyes met. His pupils were blown wide and sparkling in amusement. You didn't respond to him; you just watched him as his mouth worked against you and his fingers massaged your sweet spot inside, drawing all sorts of whimpers and moans from your lungs. 
The pleasure kept building and building, the tension becoming a hot blur inside of you, until Noah's mouth suddenly stopped completely. 
A frustrated cry escaped your mouth while you looked at him. You were this close to complaining to him when he suddenly stood up and reached to bring you to your feet. 
"This is only the beginning, Y/N" 
And with that, you found your way to your bedroom...
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹
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with3r3dflow3r · 2 years
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A glass of wine  - Leone Abbacchio x reader (NSFW)
Summary: What began as an innocent drinking session with your fellow gang member and crush, Leone Abbacchio, progressed into something much more heated.
Reader is female.
2982 words
CW: Alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, oral (giving & receiving), degradation, overstimulation, edging, facefucking, inappropriate use of stands 
( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
(A/N): For an optimal experience, read it while listening to RU Mine? by Arctic Monkeys; I was listening to that song while writing it.
🔞 NSFW, MINORS DNI! 🔞
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"What?" Abbacchio finally snapped, setting his glass on the table and glaring at you.
For the man to acknowledge your presence instead of ignoring you, like he usually did, it meant that you had been staring at him for quite some time.
"Abbacchio, give me some of your wine," you whined "it's the only one left in the house and I'm too tired to go outside to get more."
 "Fuck off, (y/n),” he took a long sip of his drink as if to aggravate you further.
 "How rude," you pouted, slumping on the table across from his seat and resting your face in your palms, settling on watching him instead.
 And if you were being honest, watching him wasn't all that bad; if anything, it was rather pleasant. You had been drawn to the silver-haired man ever since you joined the gang and now, more than a year later, your feelings were still strong and growing by the day. Therefore, the sight of him drinking, his Adam's apple bobbing with every swig and his eyes never leaving yours in an attempt to mock you, head hanging back ever so slightly, made you dizzy, even though you were completely sober.
 You couldn't take it any longer.
 With a swift motion, you had moved your chair and were sitting right next to Abbacchio, tugging on his arm in a gentle manner.
"Come onnn, just a glass.” You didn't drink often but when the craving came up it persisted until satisfied, not to mention you had to distract your racing mind from your long-term crush. His lips twitched and he narrowed his eyes down at you. You sighed; this could only mean one thing.
"Please, Leone. Let me have some too, pretty please?" you batted your eyelashes at him, embarrassed from how desperate you sounded.
 His mouth hangs open for a moment, making you even redder than you assumed you already were. Then he gave you a wide, pleased grin.
"Very well, cara. Grab a glass."
Bastard. But you couldn't possibly be mad at him- not when he called you that.
 You were soon having that long-sought red wine alongside him, relishing in both the way it run down your throat, warming your insides, and the proximity of the man- your shoulders were almost touching. The one who insists wins. Distant as he was, you didn't get many opportunities to spend time with Abbacchio, so naturally you cherished each and every one. Even though you could be great partners in crime- resulting in you getting paired up a lot- he wouldn't approach you outside of missions. It hurt, deeply so, but you couldn't stay away from him, so you found yourself doing the work. That being said, having drinking sessions together wasn't uncommon but it had never escalated to anything more, expect for him opening up to you from time to time, when he was drunk and, thus, his most vulnerable self.
 You were brought back to reality by him flicking your forehead, biting back a grin at the yelp you let out in surprise.
"What the hell, Le-"
 "Quit spacing out, we're moving to the couch," he grabbed his glass and the bottle. You followed silently behind him.
 As he set them on the coffee table, you took the chance to sit down on the couch first, saving yourself from the awkwardness of deciding how close you should sit to your crush. To your surprise, he sat right next to you, your bodies touching, which made the butterflies in your stomach go mad.
 "Ah, much comfier," he rested his head back on the couch with a grunt that went straight to your core, resting one hand on the furniture behind you and holding his drink on the other.
 "The television! I'll… turn on the television!" you went to get the remote in an attempt to escape the much-desired yet anxiety-inducing situation. You just switched it on a random channel, not caring in the slightest about the movie it apparently showed. Despite Abbacchio being emotionally vulnerable at times like this, it wasn't a habit of his to be so close to you physically.
 You bit your lower lip before opting to plop on your previous spot. Next to him- no, right next to him. You were nervous. Seeing him take a sip of wine you remembered you had forgotten your own.
"Ah! | forgot mine at the-" he grabbed your left shoulder to prevent you from getting up again.
 "Drink from mine, we have the whole bottle here,” he pushed the glass to your lips and you drank from it, some of the liquid trailing down your chin.
You wiped it with your ring finger, licking it off afterwards, all while you could sense Abbacchio boring holes into you. Was it your imagination or did he lick his lips? God, you wanted to die from shame. After a while of looking mindlessly at the TV, you swallowed your heart and decided it was just bold enough to drape your arm over the man's right shoulder, given he had done the same and still had his hand on you- now running circles on the exposed skin there?! Contrary to you, he never once bothered to pretend he was paying attention to whatever sappy rom-com was playing on the television; his eyes never left you.
 When it became unbearable, you turned around to face him and you swear your heart almost leapt out of your throat. He was staring at you with half-lidded eyes, getting close enough for your breaths to mingle once you looked at him. He smelled like wine, lavender and that characteristic smell that screamed ‘'Abbacchio’. If you didn't know better, you would think he wanted to devour you. You could barely keep yourself from trembling, which he apparently found amusing.
 Sadist.
 "Do I make you that nervous, tesoro?” he gave you a devilish grin, the pet name making you imperceptibly clench your thighs together. Just how drunk was he?
"Ah, it's- it's nothing, the alcohol does it to me sometimes. Man, is it just me or has it gotten very hot in here?" You started blabbering.
"And this movie is for the trash, when I say nowadays, they-" You froze in place, mouth hanging agape.
  "L-Leone?" You choked out.
Abbacchio had just... he had leaned in and placed a sensual kiss at the side of your neck. He then spoke into your skin, sending shivers throughout your body.
"Is it true what Mista told me? That you have feelings for me, mm?"
 At that moment, you felt all blood drain from your face.
"That bastard! I'm going to kill him!!" You yelled, betrayed and utterly embarrassed.
You thought your secret was safe with your best friend. You were wrong.
 That was all the confirmation Abbacchio needed. He slammed his lips on yours and kissed you with unparalleled hunger. When he slipped his tongue inside your mouth you lost your mind.
"Do you have. Any idea. What you've been doing to me. All this time? You brat,” He spoke against you between desperate kisses.
You moaned into his mouth, you couldn't believe this was really happening, after all the times you had fantasized about it. Pulling back, you panted against him.
"I had no idea, Leone," you grabbed both sides of his face with your palms, your thumbs stroking his cheekbones.
 "Of course, you didn't, you clueless bitch," He breathed into your ear, leaving a long lick on it.
You whined and involuntarily bucked against his clothed erection.
 With this, he pushed your back down on the couch, climbing on top of you and locking his hips around yours, making sure his groin was right above your sensitive area. He bit down at the tender flesh of your neck, eliciting a yelp from you, then proceeded to lick the whole area until your chest, shifting his gaze to you when leaving particularly long lips, all while his hands began exploring under your shirt, squeezing here and there.
"Ah!" You pulled at his long hair when he sucked on a rather delicate spot.
 "Fuck (y/n), do that again," He said breathlessly, looking at you with hazy eyes.
So, you pulled again, harder this time, and he grinded against you with a groan.
"You filthy puttana,” he licked the front your throat and grazed his teeth on it, making you arch your head back into the cushions in pleasure. "I'm going to fuck the living daylights out of you, okay? Tell me to go away and I will, right this moment, but if you say you want this there's no going back. I'll fucking destroy you."
You almost felt yourself come undone right then and there from his words alone.
"Please, Leone. I- I need you,” you pulled him impossibly closer to you from the back of his head.
"P-Please.”
 "Say no more."
 And fuck the living daylights out of you he did.
 He took his time undressing himself, visibly satisfied by you all but drooling at the sight of his chiselled body full on display, before returning his focus on you. He tore away everything with calculated motions, licking and biting at every inch of your exposed skin. At last, Abbacchio settled between your legs. You bit your lip in anticipation as he was so close to where you needed him most. He placed bites and kisses on the insides of your upper thighs, letting out a dark chuckle at how your legs were already trembling.
"Seriously bambina? We haven't even started yet."
 Not being able to handle the teasing any longer you tugged at his hair, guiding him upwards. He complied with a hum, finally placing his mouth on your clit. The way he licked and sucked it as if his life depended on it, worked your pussy with his long fingers and growled on you every time you pulled his hair, had you coming in what felt like seconds. If he had any strands of hair after this was over it would be a wonder.
"L-Leone!! That felt... amazing," you were left a panting, whining mess beneath him.
Completely at his mercy and you wouldn't have it any other way.
 You grabbed his hand and slid his fingers in your mouth. It only left him wanting to feel that pretty tongue of yours twirling around his throbbing member even more, if that was possible.
 Abbacchio hovered over you.
"Ready?" he spoke into your ear, his lilac lips brushing the shell.
 "I've never been more ready in my life" you laughed and he couldn't help but laugh as well.
You shut your eyes, both your breaths hitching in your throats as he entered you. You opened your eyes to see him breathing heavily on top of you and it was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. You were about to spur him on when he spoke up.
 "(Y/n)," You were taken aback by his serious tone and him staring deep into your eyes, genuine concern written on his face "Even with everything I said before, don't hesitate to tell me to slow down or stop if you feel uncomfortable, okay? The last thing | want is to hurt you."
 His words were an instant meltdown for your heart. Your lips quivered and you couldn't stop the tears from running down your eyes.
"T-Thank you. Don't worry, I will. No need to hold back."
 "Oh, Tesoro," he kissed your wet cheeks
"I'll make sure the next time you cry will be because of pleasure instead.”
 And with that, he thrust into you, ripping out a scream from your throat. You were glad you two were alone in the house with all the moans and grunts you each let out every time Abbacchio slammed into you, and in the living room no less.
 The man's bruising pace and the absolute filth he whispered in your ear- every time he called you a ‘puttana’ you felt like you ascended- had you unravelling beneath him, him following soon after. You swore you saw stars- no, the whole galaxy.
You laid there for a while, waiting to calm down. You were the first to move, pushing Abbacchio- who seemed to be in a daze- from you so you could kneel down on the floor before him. His eyes widened with lust at the implications of your actions, you not being far behind yourself. You almost salivated at the treat that was a breath away from your face. God, you wanted to eat him up. And eat him up you would.
 You looked up at him with an oh-so-innocent face and once he gave you an eager nod- not before gulping- you began your feast.
After you adjusted to his length in your mouth -he was a big man- he began manhandling the shit out of you; grabbing your hair hard, using your mouth and throat solely for his pleasure, bucking into you hard, not to mention you had your life squeezed out of you from his thighs. Tears were streaming down your face and you were turned on once again from feeling the man in all his glory, a moaning mess yet dominant as ever.
 As you felt his thrusts getting sloppier and his cock spasming around your lips, signalling he was close, you pulled away, thinking it would be fun to edge him. Wrong move.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing (y/n)?” He growled.
 "Hmmm dunno,” you placed your ring finger on your lips, pretending to be deep in thought. "Might've changed my- ah!" You were cut off mid-sentence as he yanked you close to his face by your hair, his hot puffs of air making you light-headed.
 "Whore," He snarled. Gritted teeth and dishevelled silver hair sticking on his forehead with sweat, Abbacchio was a sight to behold. You left a long lick at the front of his neck, sucking at where his Adam's apple was and he threw his head back with a grunt. He was shivering. The control you had over him now, even if it would be proved to be short-lived, was intoxicating.
"Tell me something | don't know," You mumbled against his skin, humming.
 "Don't fuck with me, (y/n). You're gonna pay for it later and you're not gonna like it one bit. I'll make you scream so hard your throat will be sore for days. If I'm generous enough you might even walk after weeks" he grabbed you again, spitting venom in your ears.
 "Mmm is that a threat or a promise, Leone?" you brushed his bottom lip with your thumb. "Besides, if you want it that much, why don't you show it to me, caro?” You gave a few lazy strokes to his dick, noticing the way his breath hitched in his throat.
 "Instead of talking shit, use that pretty mouth of yours to suck me off."
 You chuckled, realising that was the most you would get out of Leone Abbacchio. For now, at least. He was lucky you wanted him as much as he wanted you, if not more. You sank to your knees, taking him in. You weren't one to leave a job half-finished, anyway. As soon as he released in your mouth, some of his cum dripping down your chest, he grabbed you and threw you back on the couch, caging your sides with his arms, a smirk making its way on his face.
 "Playtime's over, principessa."
His mouth crushed on yours and he enveloped you in a heated kiss, devouring your lips and leaving you breathless. His boner was poking your thigh and you wondered how it was possible for a man to remain hard for so long, not that you were complaining. It must've been a result of all the pent-up frustration he had built up over the course of him crushing on you, a fact your mind had yet to process. He hooked your left ankle over his shoulder, gazing at your body up and down while licking his lips. The rest was history.
 You didn't know how long you were going at each other but one thing was certain: when you first approached him it was a little after midnight, now the sun was almost beginning to set.
 You had done anything your dirty minds managed to scheme. Him being on top of you, taking you from behind- he even let you ride him once, only once though, since he had taken an oath to thoroughly and utterly destroy you. Abbacchio was a man of his word, after all. You lost it when at one point he had gotten out Moody Blues, letting him fuck you while you tugged at the cushions, full on sobbing from the accumulated overstimulation. He joined his stand shortly after.
 You collapsed on the man laying down on the couch, exhausted.
"Oh my god Leone, that was... Fuck, you are amazing," you buried your face in his chest, steading your breathing.
"I've never felt better in my entire life.”
 He draped an arm around your shoulders, stoking your scalp with the other. Judging by the faint glint in his eyes, you knew he felt the same.
 After downing the rest of the alcohol, you laid back down, limbs entangled and chests pressed together, drifting off to a much-needed pressed together, enveloped by the warmth of a blanket you found nearby.
 You had to thank Mista in the morning.
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Narcissa in love - Narcissa x fem!reader
A couple of headcanons that guide me for my Narcissa fic. Am I gaslighting you to forget about the fact I have yet to post another chapter by posting this? Maybe. In the meantime, enjoy! 🤍
She's a cold person who's used to getting what she wants whenever she wants but that doesn't mean she is heartless. She creates a persona from all the rules she respected when growing up and none of them was about handling one's feelings
When she meets you the only things she notices are your imperfections and ways to improve them. It's not intentional, it's just her usual train of thought when meeting someone. But those intrigue her
 Usually she'd put them aside, she always does, but with you it's different. It's the way those brows were a little bit disheveled and how your lipstick smeared over the lip line after having a sip of the drink you held. How the clothes you wore had wrinkled from sitting down a long time and how your neck was stiff and affecting your posture
 She becomes captivated by all those things and starts to think for the first time about why. Why did your brows look like you've been sleeping recently, why didn't you notice the lipstick, why did you sit for so long and why are you hurting yourself with a bad posture?
She likes to start conversations and end conversations whenever she wants and that’s exactly the treatment you’ll get the first few times. But it seems she can’t quite get enough of your voice and begins to let you lead the conversation
Soon enough she starts to crave your presence. She’ll be right next to you to smell your perfume, paint her nails often for you to grab her hands and admire her manicure, whisper nonsense into your ear when you're in a crowded place just so she would make you smile and laugh
The mask of perfection slips and for the first time in her life she’s out in the open, with no protection against the world but you
She won’t admit it’s more than a very fond friendship, not even to herself, for a long time but when most tomorrows she makes plans for you two, she might start to see it. She fell in love with you
A confession would take even more time as she doesn’t want to scare you off. Every time she fantasizes about telling you about her feelings, her heart feels squeezed in an iron grip at the immediate thought of losing you.So she settles with the usual “I adore spending time with you”
She might begin to feel satisfied with just your presence and as the time goes by, she doesn’t feel the need to tell you anymore. She finds self sufficiency in the fact that you’re by her side and for the first time in a long while she is once again conforming to all the social norms of her world
Little does she know you’ve fallen for her too and seeing her going back to her cold hearted demeanor is the last and definitive reason to come clean in front of her
No matter how you decide to confess your feelings, Narcissa would be left speechless. She’d freeze then and overreact in the exact opposite way you would expect. She shuns you completely for the first time since she met you
But as time goes by and you’re not by her side, she’d start missing you. Everywhere she goes, everyone she sees, everything she hears somehow ends up being related to you. You’d be everywhere and nowhere at the same time
She’d look for ways to make up for rejecting you and even though you put her in a turmoil denying how the mere fact of Narcissa chasing you is making your heart leap to heaven, time brings you together once more
She loves to hold you until your breathing is even and deep and she can feel your muscles relax in her hold as your body succumbs to sleep
She loves to touch your skin with her hands and lips, to hear you sigh and moan and chant her name over and over as she pleasures you
She loves to make you smile and laugh and forget about the world outside of your little bubble
She loves you and as long as you do too, she won’t need anything else in order to live
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Apple Lover | Yandere Epel Felmier x Reader
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Epel knew people who loved apples. It is the Felmier’s life blood and family business, heck he liked apples but he’d never met someone like you. Someone who’d ask if anyone wanted any of the apple sauce he was giving you before chugging it like it wasn’t nearly an entire pint. He’d seen the other burlier men in his old town chug it like that after working all day without taking a break but you were just an average student at Night Raven, right? Other than the baffling circumstances in your arrival to said school he couldn’t find any reason as to why you so  aggressively consumed apple products. He knows you do. He’s checked many times:
“Hey my family sent some apple-cider so”
“Gim-sama doesn’t want such dis–”
“OMG THANKS EPEL!!! GOSH I LOVE THIS STUFF”
Or that other time he had a full crate.
“Hey can I have that crate back for–Whoa! WHERE ARE THE OTHER APPLES.”
“Oh sorry Epel I kind of went ham on them. Sorry!”
“There were over a hundred in there!?”
He was both prideful and really concerned you consumed so many of his family’s products. He was well aware of the cyanide properties in the seeds; that usually no one worries about because the number for eating enough of them to activate the poison is really high…like 100…like the amount he’d found nearly gone a week after giving it to you. 
“Oh no worries I avoid the seeds, plus I switch it up with different versions, y’know?”
Oh, he knew he’d been watching you chow down on apples or sipping on apple sauce everywhere. He’d seen you do it in your lonesome of the Ramshackle common room , during class, at lunch, in the library, really just everywhere. 
“You’re worried about the Prefect?” Vil spoke not looking away from his own image in the mirror touching up on makeup.
“I guess I just don’t know if they understand how addicted they are. I mean they seem to really enjoy it but I’m worried they let their obsession run their lives.”
“Well don’t you sound like you're obsessing over them a little? You’ve been yapping to everyone lately about this concern of yours, that's what all the potatoes have been saying.”
Epel snapped up from his previous position, bumping the bottom part of the dresser with his knees before giving an apologetic look to the glaring Vil. Turning to Rook who was happily working behind them Epel spoke.
“Is this true?”
The hunter laughed, squinting his eyes as he spoke. 
 “You have been talking a lot about Trickster…perhaps you do have deeper feelings past just concern?”
A blooming heat exploded onto Epel’s face and subsequently followed by the short-circuiting student. 
“W-what-?!! N-no w-ay!!! I’m not-!Am I? W-wot ‘re ya e-even saying?!”
The rest of their training session was filled with Epel being too flustered and overwhelmed with the possibility of actually being in love. 
___________________________________________________________
When he finally was able to escape Rook’s questioning and Vil’s training, he went to indulge in his favorite hobby. Epel lazed about watching from afar as you happily accepted a crate of apples from none other than Floyd and Azul. As he had overheard, you had discovered a variant of apple-like fruit from the Coral Sea and had come to the Octavinelle trio to be your guide. For someone who was so quick to tell your monster-tenant no more money to cans of tuna but perfectly prepared to buy a whole crate of sea-apples. You all too quickly walked into a shark’s den just to satisfy your apple-cravings and he was worried about you. 
“You know with how (Y/n) eats apples it’d just be so easy to…”
He stopped himself thinking about the words he spoke in the lonesome of his watching area at the edge of the wood. Realizing the implications of what he said he, at first, scolding himself before really thinking about it. 
You so blindly just ate and drank everything that was handed to you as long as it was from an apple or some variation of one. He tried to ignore the dark thoughts that were brewing from that little comment alone.
It just kept popping up with everyone else just knowing you wanted apples. So easily did you immediately trust anyone who so much as waved an apple product in front of your face. He’d seen it so many times Azul making you work for an apple-cider drink, or Ruggie who promises to get you more applesauce if you collect a bunch of dandelions for him. 
It would be far too easy to learn how to inject a love potion.
It was too easy to inject one. 
“Ah, (Y/n) I’ve been trying this new type of apple. Would you try it for me?”
“Sure.”
And like clockwork you took a heft bite of that apple and just as you should your (y/e/c) irises flashed pink. Now he found that when people talked it was you who had recently been speaking about him and when you wavered as if coming to some realization he didn’t mind offering you a cider or applesauce that would have your eyes flashing pink for as long as he pleased. 
339 notes · View notes
gingerteaonthetardis · 7 months
Note
Apple cider, and any variant of Tucker and Rose you’d like (I know you have a couple lol)
thinky! thank you so much for this prompt. i once again just sort of started another au with it, because i have no self control. i just love putting these two in Situations. or three, rather. wilf showed up in this one, for some reason. hope you enjoy (when you get your internet back, lol)!
read on ao3 here. or send me a prompt here!
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something for nothing
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"Hot," Rose asked, thrusting out her hands, "or cold?"
In each was a paper cup, the left one gently steaming while the older man glanced back and forth between them with his usual consideration.
"That depends. Is it chocolate?"
"Nope."
"Coffee, then?"
"No." She failed to stifle a grin. "Sylvia would have my head and you know it."
An extremely unnatural-looking scowl made its way across his face. "It's not one of those fancy 'steamer' things, is it? Those always end up tasting like plain old spoiled milk."
Rose shook her head in fond impatience. "Just pick one, will you? Or they'll both be cold."
His eyes narrowed beneath his bright yellow bobble hat. "Fine, then. Hot," Wilf finally declared. "But this had better not be like the time you put chewy stuff in my tea."
"Boba," she corrected. "And don't worry, only liquid in there. And some spices, of course."
At this, Wilf took a long inhale, his nose hovering just above the thread of steam. It was endlessly endearing, how dubious he was about the whole exercise.
Then again, she had just been a stranger who walked up and offered him eggnog, that first time.
It had been nearly a year ago, around the holidays, and she'd been leaving after another long, tedious shift at the café across the way. Her manager had given rare permission to close up early after Rose pulled a double, but she'd not taken advantage: instead, she'd satisfied an intense exhaustion-fueled craving for eggnog by whipping it up right there in the shop.
But she'd made a bit too much, and with no one to share it with, she'd spied the old man at his newspaper stall—such a merry figure, like Father Christmas himself in a heavy red-and-white striped scarf, packing up his stacks of paper like gifts bundled in twine. He'd looked so cheerful and so cold, with his red nose and fingerless gloves, that she went out and offered him a cup of still-warm eggnog. He'd kindly offered a copy of Radio Times in trade, and suddenly they were talking like old friends.
That had been the beginning of a ritual which she held to after nearly every shift she worked. She never emerged without two cups of something to share, and he always held aside a paper or magazine he thought she'd like. They didn't always chat, but they did undeniably enjoy one another's company.
Rose thought of him almost like an adopted grandfather.
She watched with amusement as he put his eye to the narrow hole in the lid like it was the lens of a telescope, trying to see the colour of the substance within. She bit down hard on her lip. "What can you see?"
"Not much," Wilf admitted.
"Drink it! I promise there's nothing odd in there—well, too odd, I mean."
He shook his head at her, but he was smiling as he went to take a sip. She waited, holding her breath—and was delighted when his eyes lit up.
"Oh, that's not bad," he proclaimed, "not bad at all!" As he took another sip, Rose finally lifted her own cup to her lips.
Ripe apple, cinnamon, nutmeg—a faint hint of smoke—even cold, it all burst over her tongue, evoking a sense memory disconnected from anything she'd ever personally experienced. It reminded her of campfire nights after crisp autumn days, falling leaves and waning grey skies. Days so perfect they could really only exist in films, or books, or daydreams.
"It's cider, but with a little—something! Very good, Rose," Wilf added warmly. "So, what's the secret?"
"An infusion of lapsang souchong while the cider's warming up." She was a little proud of that one. "And all the usual suspects—clove, cinnamon, a tiny bit of anise… I have more," she said, patting her thermos where it stuck out of her messenger bag. She'd planned to take it home and sip it with her feet up in front of the telly, but seeing how eagerly Wilf drank from his cup made her want to share more instead. "Want a refill?"
"Let me see to what I've got first," he said, after another savoring sip. "It's good stuff! Is it going on the menu?"
She scoffed. "Of course not. Nobody around here wants fussy cider. They just want tea, or else coffee, black, no sugar—god, if you only knew how many red eyes I make in a day…"
"Well, it is Westminster," Wilf reasoned, looking around at the street which, while presently quiet, was crowded with buildings still fully lit up at long past six. "There's always some crisis they're perverting."
Rose hesitated. "You mean averting?"
"I meant what I said," he replied with a chuckle. "Takes a lot of energy to play at running the world."
"Yes, well, I just wish they'd get a bit more creative with their drink orders while they do it. Civilisation won't end if one of them branches out and adds a shot of vanilla to their latte! And," she went on, voice hushing dramatically, "then there's the peacoats. They all wear the same bloody shapeless things. What is with that?"
"Speaking of peacoats…" Wilf coughed, clearly covering a laugh. "Evening, Mr. Tucker!"
Rose tripped over her own feet whirling around to see who he was talking to, and then nearly stumbled up again when she saw who it was.
Malcolm Tucker.
The Malcolm Tucker.
The scariest man in British politics, and possibly in Great Britain generally, stood about a foot away from her.
She recognised his face from Wilf's newspapers and the occasional clip on telly: fair eyes, humped nose, harsh lines bracketing a restless mouth, head crowned with tarnished silver hair. Under the flat, unforgiving light of the street lamps, he looked hyperreal. But even someone who didn't know his face would see evidence of his hand everywhere. He ruled the media with it. He puppeted the ministry with it.
And he was shaking Wilf's hand with it.
"Wilf, how the fuck's business?" he greeted, breezing right past her, smiling with the kind of familiarity that couldn't be faked. It even looked sincere. He brushed close enough that she could smell the wool of his coat, and she winced.
"Better, now that your mug's back out of the papers, sir!" Wilf laughed, and strangely, so did Tucker. "What'll it be today? We've got the New Statesman, fresh out this morning. There's an interview with your man, that baldy economist—"
But the other man brushed him off carelessly. "Oh, please, none of that, I'm off the clock."
"What brings you round, then?" For a second, Wilf's eyes darted sheepishly her way, and she could only goggle back in confusion. It was like he didn’t want to give something away, something secret. To Tucker, he said, voice low, "Celebrity Skin?"
Rose's jaw dropped. "Wilf!"
"Now, now, Rose, you can hardly fault the man! Just because he's in government doesn't mean he's made of metal."
"It's not him scandalizing me," she shot back with a laugh. "Wilfred Mott, I learn something new about you every day."
“Got to keep you interested, don't I?” Teasing though his tone was, there was also a glint of genuine pride as he added, “Or else I'll stop getting the best hot drinks in London hand-delivered to me!”
They were so busy sharing smiles that it took her a moment to remember they had audience. A rather intimidating audience. One of his iron-dark eyebrows was arched in something like humour. “That so?” Tucker said, eyeing her up and down.
“She’s more than just a pretty face, she is,” Wilf replied, and she felt herself flush. Whether it was from Wilf’s blunt, overenthusiastic praise or the assessing look she was receiving from the Prime Minister’s media enforcer, she couldn’t tell. “You should—oi, Rose, why don't you give him a little of that cider stuff? Mr. Tucker looks cold. Or maybe that’s just his personality.”
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, amused by the blatant ribbing. He’d accompanied it with a wink, and Tucker didn’t seem offended. In fact, his smile was back, spreading slowly, like it was foreign to his mouth.
“Not sure that's a good idea, actually,” she said.
“Why not?” asked Tucker, locking eyes with her for the first time. There was just something about his face; she knew she ought to be intimidated by him—and maybe she was, a little—but she was at least equally fascinated. He looked just like a man, ordinary.
Except not.
His gaze was too intense for that. Like it was used to cutting right through people. All day, people with glazed-over eyes muttered orders at her—barely seemed to even notice her. It was a startling change, to feel so… observed.
She blinked. “Do you usually risk drinks from strangers?”
“You're saying you wouldn't, if you were me?”
“If I were you—there’s an idea,” she dared with a breathless laugh. “If I were you, we probably wouldn't have quite so many bald, boring blokes in office. And things would probably get a bit more West Wing. But I wouldn't risk poisoning, no.”
“You're clever, then.” The smile that played around his mouth was a shade off the one he’d offered Wilf, but she liked it all the same. “Cleverer than me.” Her eyebrows jumped, and the corners of his lips only ticked higher. “I'd love a warm drink, if you can spare one. It's been a… very long day.”
And she didn’t know quite how, or why, or anything at all, but her hands just started moving on their own, sliding down the strap of her bag to the pouch with her thermos. She was actually going to share her drink with the Hitman of Downing Street, the thing that lurked under the beds of the ministers she saw on television.
You couldn’t make this stuff up.
“Easy, now,” Tucker drily warned. “No sudden moves. I might get clever.”
She chuffed a laugh. “Not likely.” But she slowed anyway, attention bouncing momentarily to Wilf—who was watching their exchange with a rapt and wildly amused expression—before she turned back to Tucker.
His eyes were more reflective of the colour of the sky than she’d ever imagined eyes could be. So blue and grey that it was like looking through the clearest water at the river stones beneath.
She couldn't quite shake off the observation—couldn't manage an appropriate amount of detachment as she withdrew the thermos and twisted it open. Concentrated steam burst free, smelling sweet and enticingly sharp, and she extended the mug out to him.
He took it. And when their fingers brushed over the warm metal, it hit her.
Attraction.
What she was feeling was attraction.
Her first thought was oh, Mum’s going to brick herself if I tell her. Which, of course, Rose wouldn’t. After Jimmy Stone and the complete fiasco he’d created in her life as a teenager, she knew better. But what would Jackie Tyler say about Malcolm bloody Tucker? He'd been working in politics for practically half Rose’s lifetime.
She could just imagine her mum's face, the repulsion and horror, and the picture was incongruous enough that it successfully pulled Rose out of her stupor. She withdrew her hand, feeling the cold snap of air instantly, more fiercely than she might have.
With a tense eye, she watched him lift the thermos to his lips. Watched him drink, slow and contemplative. He didn't seem particularly slow or contemplative by nature, so it must have been for her benefit. Her fingers made fists, which she wedged into her coat pockets.
He took another sip. Then proclaimed, “That's very good. Is that tea I taste?”
Her smile bloomed without thought or permission. “Secret recipe,” she said. “Now you owe me four pounds fifty.”
Those eyebrows leapt again before resettling even lower than before. He looked very intent. “You charge our mutual friend,” and here, he glanced at Wilf, “for cider, too, or is it just me who pays for the privilege?”
“Well, you know what your sort say—no such thing as a free lunch. Or cider,” she added, realising exactly what was about to come out of her mouth and doing nothing at all to stop it. “Wilf pays me back in magazines and good conversation. So what'll you give me, Malcolm Tucker?”
And god, she was actually doing it. She was flirting with him.
Beside her, Wilf was laughing into his fist. Part of her was embarrassed—or would be later—that she was making a fool of herself in front of the old man. He’d certainly rub her nose in it the next time she popped out with a drink. That was just what family did.
But there was another part of her, a much deeper and more untameable part, which insisted on saying, What the hell? Why not?
After all, this would probably be her only chance to tease one of the most powerful men in England. The prospect of pushing him, even a little, felt dangerous, rebellious. Deliciously improbable. And if there was a little extortion involved, well—he was hardly a man with clean hands.
One of those hands, she noted, slid into the pocket of that ridiculous peacoat—which was, she could admit, beginning to grow on her a little; it contrasted sharply against his skin and hair, so pale and severe—and he withdrew something small and white and rectangular. He extended it to her, but before she could take it, his hand snapped back. He seemed on the verge of smiling again.
Then, tipping back his head, he took another long drink from the thermos. A long, long drink.
She grinned, watching his throat bob. The bastard was draining the mug. Getting his money’s worth, she supposed.
She found she didn't mind. Her evening was shaping up to be substantially different than she’d expected.
Only when he'd finished with a faint hum of appreciation and returned the thermos did he give over the proffered card. It was simple, unremarkable white cardstock with crisp black text.
Malcolm Tucker
Director of Communications for the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom
10 Downing Street, Westminster, London
Below were two phone numbers. One was crossed out, the smudged ink suggesting he’d done so recently. The second number was indicated as his personal line, and her breath caught. Was he mad, handing out this information to a veritable stranger? Did he know the trouble she could make for him if she started, say, making copies and handing them out with every cup of coffee she sold to his more politically repellant enemies? Of which there were many?
“Don't get clever,” he warned her, and there was a trace of real threat there. She felt it. It made her spine straighten and something senselessly warm unfurl in her belly. Then he said, mildly, “Call it an IOU.”
She looked up at the man before her and wondered if he was mad—or perhaps just fearless—or possibly, she guessed with a tilt of her head, he was lonely.
But whatever he was—and however much she needed to get her head checked for being so intrigued by it—there was only one way to find out.
Rose slipped the card into the back pocket of her denims, meeting his unwavering eyes the whole time, smiling to herself. She bit down on the tip of her tongue to prevent it spreading.
“Well,” she said, trying to sound tough, “it’s not exactly four pounds fifty. But it’ll do.”
Tucker smirked. And—oh, yeah, she thought. Mum’s definitely gonna lose it.
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cuddlepilefics · 8 months
Text
Sweet tooth
Fandom: P1Harmony
Sickie: Intak
Caregiver: Taeyang
Prompts: 'Sweet tooth' & 'Wearing each other's clothes' @flufftober
No one’s POV.:
Keeho groaned, doubling over panting as they struck the ending pose. They had been in the practice room all afternoon, working on their dance moves. Though he had thought his stamina to be quite alright, he really struggled to catch his breath right now. This had been their last run-through and Jiung cheered breathlessly at the prospect of being done with their schedule for the day. As Keeho’s eyes wandered through the practice room, checking on all of his members, the leader was relieved that he wasn’t the only one who felt close to dying. Maybe his stamina wasn’t so bad after all. A tired chuckle pulled at his lips as he spotted the two maknaes sprawled out on the floor. They had gone all out during practice and looked like they wouldn’t be getting back up in days. Taeyang was leaning against the wall next to his back, trying to catch his breath as he sipped some water.
Intak plopped down next to Taeyang, resting his back against the wall was he sluggishly dug through his bag to retrieve his water bottle. As the boy greedily gulped down his water, Keeho fetched Shota and Jongseob their bottles too and brought them over to them, encouraging them to drink some as they had been sweating a lot. Jiung stuffed his empty water bottle back into his bag and breathed: “I’m starving! What do you guys wana eat for dinner?” None of them had really eaten much for lunch, afraid of making themselves sick by dancing on a full stomach. “How about McDonald’s?”, Keeho offered, drying his face, “We can stop at the drive-through on our way back. I don’t think anyone’s in the mood to cook.” His idea was met with tired cheers because he was right. They were all ready to drop and cooking sounded far to exhausting, while they felt too sweaty and disgusting to eat out.
Since all of them were starving after so much dancing and only having very little food that day, they ordered a lot. Sure, their meal choice wasn’t the healthiest but they were usually eating healthy and this felt like a great reward for their hard work that day. The member had a hard time waiting till they got home, already wanting to dig in while in the car. Still, they managed to control themselves their excitement overpowering their exhaustion as they hurried from the car to their dorm, rushing to kick off their shoes and get to the dinner table before their food grew completely cold.
Most of the members had similar orders, a burger, fries and some soda. Intak was the odd one out, his sweet tooth showing even more now that he had waited to the point of getting so incredibly hungry. Sure, there had to be a savory part to his meal, so he ordered chicken nuggets and fries but he was mainly focused on the pie and milkshake he had gotten as a dessert. “Don’t give yourself a tummy ache”, Keeho laughed, watching Intak sip his milkshake in between bites of chicken. The younger had originally planned to have separate sweet and savory but he just couldn’t he craved something sweet. To his own surprise, Intak still felt a little hungry after dinner, so while the first members took their turns showering, he contemplated what snack he could have to make sure he wouldn’t go to bed hungry. His sweet tooth was still carving something sugary, so he eventually got himself some cookies. Seeing how contently his dongsaeng dipped his cookies into milk, Jiung didn’t comment on the younger probably overdoing it, though he couldn’t help but wonder how the boy managed to stomach all that food.
Since Intak was still busy satisfying his cravings, he ended up being the last member to take a shower. He winced a bit when he noticed how stuffed his tummy looked as he stepped into the shower. Yeah, he wasn’t proud of his decisions today but everyone had those days, so it would be okay, he told himself. Intak could hear his stomach gurgle, trying to digest the overwhelming amount of food he had just consumed. There was some discomfort and bloating but that was to be expected. He let out a few breathy burps as he dried off and put on his sleep clothes. The other members were already in bed, drained from their intense practice session. Intak sighed when he realized his roommates had already fallen asleep, as he didn’t feel like he could fall asleep quite yet.
As he lay awake scrolling through his phone, Intak felt his stomach cramp up and while the initial cramp eventually faded, a dull ache remained. He ran his palm over his bloated middle and muffled a burp into his pillow. It brought back the taste of his dinner, which all of a sudden wasn’t appealing at all anymore. Hoping that one of the other members was still awake to maybe hang out and distract him from the pain till he could sleep Intak got out of bed. He had to move carefully, slightly bent over to not trigger another cramp. With one arm protectively wrapped around his middle, he made his way over to the other bedroom.
Walking only seemed to upset his stomach further, a sour burp burning his throat as he paused at the door to collect himself. Intak silently opened the door and noted that both of his dongsaengs were deeply asleep. It wasn’t surprising, seeing as they had been completely spent after dance practice. To Intak’s relief though, Taeyang propped himself up on his elbows when he noticed the door open. The oldest had slowly been drifting off but snapped out of it the second he felt someone’s presence. “What’s up?”, he yawned as his dongsaeng approached his bed. Shakily taking a seat on the edge of the mattress, Intak confessed: “My tummy really hurts.” – “Not really surprising”, Taeyang noted, sitting up to take a better look at the younger. “True”, the boy sighed, slipping his hand under his shirt to rub his stomach. The organ gave an angry gurgle, making him wince. Patting Intak’s shoulder, Taeyang whispered: “Do you want medicine? What can I do?” – “I-I don’t know”, the younger whimpered, burying his face in his hands.
“Alright, come on”, Taeyang breathed, getting out of bed, “Let’s go to the living room. Hyung will make you some tea, okay? See if we can get your stomach to settle.” Intak let the older pull him along though he was admittedly still really slow, every step threatening to unsettle his stomach further. While the oldest made his way to the kitchen to start the kettle, Intak collapsed onto the couch and pulled the blanket from the back to cover himself. Miserably curling in on himself, the boy palmed at his sore middle and took shaky breaths to quell the rising queasiness.
When Taeyang joined him, the oldest was carrying a steaming cup of tea and hummed: “How long has your stomach been hurting?” – “It started shortly after I went to bed”, Intak groaned, squeezing his eyes shut, “I know I brought this upon myself. I just didn’t want to be alone.” Sighing, the older took a seat next to him and whispered: “You really have a sweet tooth, don’t you? Here, careful. It’s still hot but it might help your stomach.” – “I-I”, Intak mumbled, muffling a queasy belch against his knuckles, “I don’t know if- if I should put anything in my stomach right now. It’s- it’s so full.” Calmly running his fingers through the younger’s hair, Taeyang sighed: “I bet it is. You can take your time and once you ready just sip it slowly, yeah?” Intak nodded, swallowing thickly as he palms started to sweat. Wiping his clammy hands on the blanket, he sat up and drew a shaky breath. “You okay?”, Taeyang frowned worriedly as he watched the color drain from his dongsaeng’s face.
Clamping both hands over his lips, Intak shot up from the couch and made a dash to the bathroom. He made it just in time for his stomach to violently reject everything he had eaten that evening. Wincing in sympathy, Taeyang knelt down behind the younger and comfortingly patted his back. Sweat trickled down Intak’s temple as he threw up two large waves back to back, weakly gasping for air afterwards. “You’re okay”, the older assured softly, “You’ll feel a lot better once you got that out.” Intak only managed a pained whimper before his throat contracted with another retch. His stomach really wasn’t happy at all, churning painfully under his palm. His eyes watered as he choked up another wave, barely noticing Keeho joining them. The leader had woken up from the commotion and went to check on them. “He’ll be fine”, Taeyang whispered, running his hand up and down Intak’s back, feeling his spine ripple as the boy got sick, “Just really overdid it earlier and gave himself a tummy ache.”
Over the ringing in his ears, Intak couldn’t understand what his hyungs were saying but relaxed when a cool towel was draped over the back of his neck. His body was shaking from the exertion, sweat running down his back. “Thanks”, Taeyang hummed when Keeho returned with Intak’s tea and a bottle of water, “You can really go back to bed. I got him. Two sleep-deprived members are enough.” The leader was hesitant to leave his sick dongsaeng but Taeyang did have a point. It was enough if two of them were exhausted and he did trust the oldest to take good care of their friend. Chewing on his lip as he mulled it over, Keeho eventually sighed: “Alright, you two wake me if you need anything. Feel better, puppy.”
Intak was panting when he finally caught a break. Tearing off some toilet paper, he dabbed at his forehead and wiped his lips. “Gosh, next time please stop me”, he rasped, looking up at Taeyang with red-rimmed eyes, “Now I feel awful and yeah, I learned my lesson.” – “Good thing you did”, the oldest chuckled sympathetically, “Do you think you’re done?” Intak shrugged. His stomach was still in knots but his throat was raw and his head pounded. He did accept his tea though, taking a tiny sip to test his stomach. Taeyang flushed the toilet for him and they just sat for a while, Intak resting his head on his hyung’s shoulder.
“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”, Taeyang asked quietly, still worried though the younger was slowly sipping his tea as the color returned to his face, “I could rub your tummy and would be close by, so you can wake me if you start feeling worse again.” Nodding tiredly, Intak gave a sad sniffle. He rubbed his eyes and breathed: “I’m sorry for all the trouble, hyung. I should’ve known better.” – “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. As long as you acknowledge it and learn, it’s alright”, Taeyang comforted, getting to his feet, “Your shirt is completely sweat through. Do you want to borrow one of mine? You wouldn’t risk waking Keeho and Jiung….” The younger nodded tiredly, struggling to peel the sticky fabric off his skin. His stomach growled when he lifted his arms over his head to have Taeyang help him take it off. Grabbing the damp towel, Intak quickly wiped his neck and chest, glad to feel a little less disgusting.
Like a lost puppy, he followed his hyung to his bedroom and accepted the shirt the older handed him. The soft material felt nice on his sensitive skin and he deeply inhaled the comforting scent of laundry detergent. Taeyang pulled the trashcan up to his bed and went to lay down, patting the space next to him. Shyly crawling under the blanket next to the oldest, Intak tensed up when the other’s hand slipped under his shirt. He released a shaky breath, slowly relaxing as his hyung lightly drew circles over his bloated middle. “Try to get some sleep”, Taeyang whispered as he continued to rub the younger’s tummy, “And don’t hesitate to wake me if you need something.”
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mxnsterbabe · 2 years
Text
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Male Orc/Female Reader NSFW Wordcount: 1,271 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist
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 The orc across the bar was tall and muscular, with broad shoulders that strained against his black shirt. Teal hair – dyed of course – spilled past those enormous shoulders in dense curls, framing his angular face in a way that accented those sharp cheekbones and sturdy, heavy jaw.
He hadn’t noticed you yet, perched on a nearby stool and sipping one of the menu’s most expensive cocktails. Tonight was all about fun, so why not enjoy something more than your usual drink?
He brushed bright hair from his face then, the curls tossed carelessly behind his back as he greeted the bartender. A smile lit up his face, a laid back sort of thing that looked oh so effortless.
Even such a simple thing – and not even directed at you! – had your hands clenching around your glass. It had your thighs squeezing too, fighting back a wave of arousal that hit you, red hot, in the stomach.
“One espresso martini please,” he said to the bartender, “and whatever this lovely lady would like.”
You squeaked, not realising that he had noticed you yet. Yet when he sent you a bright and beaming grin, it was impossible not to smile back.
“Leif,” he introduced, and his voice was a deep baritone that made you squirm.
He already knew your name, just as you knew that his was Leif; but this was all a part of the fun. All a part of the scenario you had suggested. 
You introduced yourself as Leif perched on the bar stool beside you. He was so tall and so damn big that he dwarfed both you and the stool, which vanished as Leif crossed his legs and leaned in close.
"I feel like I should tell you how ravishing you look in that little black dress. You're all dressed up, for this seedy old bar?"
The look he was giving you, eyes dark and hungry as his gaze roved across your body, sent another shiver of arousal shooting down your back. Thighs squeezing even harder, you tried to remain composed and downed the last of your drink.
Just in time for the one Leif ordered to arrive. The bartender, a heavyset dwarven man, cast you a wary look as he passed over a bright red cosmopolitan. "This guy bothering you?" he asked.
You could have laughed at how absurd it was, that Leif was bothering you. The bartender didn't know, of course, so you flashed him a smile and a nod.
The bartender didn't seem convinced; but then a flurry of customers starting shouting for him, so he left you alone.
Leif's laugh was warm and syrupy in a way that warmed you to the core. "He was probably wondering what a woman like you would want with a guy like me," he said, brow raised in a way just shy of suggestive.
It was still enough to make your heart flutter, and for that sickly-sweet warmth to settle between your legs. Your tight black dress was too short, riding up just enough to reveal a strip of silky inner thigh.
Leif's gaze darted down, and a satisfied smile settled across his lips. The lust in his eyes was almost enough to make you think screw the foreplay, and drag him back to the car right now; but he had been so eager to act this scene out with you, and you would see it through.
Although, if he kept looking at you like that then... there was no guarantee you would even make it to the car.
The thought made you blush scarlet hot, only made worse when Leif's big, heavy hand landed on your knee. His thumb began to trace gentle circles on your skin, and your face blazed from both the alcohol and his touch.
"I'm glad that I saw you here," Leif said in that honey-thick voice you loved so much, "a beautiful woman like you shouldn't spend a Saturday night alone. Maybe when you finish that drink, I could treat you to something a little... classier?"
The warmth of his skin, his closeness, was making your skin itch in the most fantastic way. You craved Leif's touch, unable to help from shuffling closer. Even on the edge of your stool, it wasn't enough.
Leif only grinned. "I'll take that as a yes?"
A breathless laugh left your lips; hardly as sultry as you had wanted, but it was taking most of your concentration just to hold yourself together now. 
You swore that you could feel the eyes of the other customers boring into you, their curiosity more important than politeness. Yet to the outside world, you and Leif were just two strangers who had met here by chance. Nothing more, nothing less; there was a certain kind of thrill in the deception.
"And where would you take me, if we left now?" you asked, and you propped your face in one hand to watch Leif from behind thick eyelashes. You gave them a flutter, sighing happily when Leif's smile turned devilish.
"Oh, I don't know. There's a great bar around the corner, cocktail restaurants all over... and there's also my place, if you feel like it."
Even though you knew where this was going, your toes curled with excitement. All of this, the anticipation, kept building and building until it was almost too much. 
"And your place," you asked, feigning naivety, "how far away is it?"
"Oh, not far. I've only had one drink, I can drive you."
There were definitely eyes on you now; two men at a table not far away, observing you with coy smiles and muffled laughter. They seemed to say I know what you're up to. Or at least, they were intrigued by the pretty lady about to be whisked away by a gigantic orc.
You offered them a curt smile, but your attention was saved solely for Leif. The hand not cupping your cheek reached for his shirt so that your fingers could delicately tug at his collar.
"Your place sounds good, big guy. Lead the way."
Leif downed his martini in one, which spurred you on to do the same. You were already pleasantly buzzed, the perfect mellow of tipsiness; the extra alcohol only made you even more eager for what was about to come.
You walked through the bar with an arm linked through Leif's, revelling in the feel of his taught muscles against your side. As you passed by the two men's table, you couldn't help but wink - and stifle a laugh as they ducked their heads in shame.
But you couldn't blame them, really, when they were faced with the sight of you in that little dress; and Leif's imposing figure beside you. 
Leif held the door for you, always the perfect gentleman; and as you passed, he swept down to press a kiss to the corner of your lips. He smelled of sharp coffee liquor and expensive vodka, your absolute favourite.
"My car is just over there," Leif said, as if you didn't already know. "You sure you don't mind getting in with a stranger?"
His question, so hesitant, was almost too convincing. It lit a fire in your stomach, one that had been flickering for a while but now erupted full force. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you yanked him down to your level to crush your lips to his in a heated, firey kiss.
"I think I'll be fine," you whispered in his ear, "now take me home already."
With a hand on your back, slowly drifting down to your ass, Leif lead you to the car.
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