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digitalvision05 · 3 months
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Gift Guide: Wooden Beer Mugs for the Beer Lover in Your Life
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Forget the cold, impersonal feel of glass or concrete. Wooden beer mugs offer a unique and sensory-rich alternative. But with so many styles and options available, choosing the perfect one can feel daunting. Fear not, fellow gift-giver! This guide will walk you through the world of wooden beer mugs, helping you find the ideal vessel to match your recipient's personality and preferences.
A Touch of Nature: Why Choose Wood?
Wooden mugs go beyond mere function; they're a statement piece. The natural beauty of wood adds a touch of rustic charm to any setting, while the material itself insulates your beer, keeping it cooler for longer. Plus, the unique grain and texture of each mug make it a one-of-a-kind treasure.
Navigating the Forest: Different Woods, Different Feels
The type of wood used plays a big role in the mug's aesthetics and performance. Popular choices include:
Oak:- Known for its durability and rich, golden tones, oak mugs offer a classic, timeless look.
Walnut:- This darker wood boasts a beautiful grain and imparts a subtle nutty aroma to your beer.
Cedar:- Lighter in color and weight, cedar mugs offer a natural, earthy feel and a hint of cedar fragrance.
Finding the Perfect Fit: Styles and Features
There's a wooden mug to suit every taste. Consider your recipient's preferences:
The Traditionalist:- Opt for a hefty tankard with a handle for a truly medieval vibe.
The Craft Beer Aficionado:- Choose a mug with a narrower mouth to concentrate the aromas of complex brews.
The Casual Enjoyer:- Select a lighter-weight mug for everyday use.
Personalization Power:- Making it Special
Engraving the recipient's name, initials, or a special message on their mug adds a sentimental touch that elevates it to a cherished heirloom.
Still Stumped? We Can Help!
Feeling overwhelmed by the choices? Don't fret! At The Brand Barrel, we specialize in helping you find the perfect wooden beer mug for any occasion. With our curation of high-quality, handcrafted mugs, you're sure to discover the ideal gift that will have them raising a toast in appreciation.
So, ditch the ordinary and embrace the rustic charm of wood. With the right mug, you're gifting more than just a vessel; you're gifting an experience, a conversation starter, and a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. What are you waiting for? Start crafting the perfect beer-soaked memory today!
P.S. What type of beer would your recipient pair with their new wooden mug? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
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digitalvision · 4 months
Text
Gift Guide: Wooden Beer Mugs for the Beer Lover in Your Life
Tumblr media
Forget the cold, impersonal feel of glass or concrete. Wooden beer mugs offer a unique and sensory-rich alternative. But with so many styles and options available, choosing the perfect one can feel daunting. Fear not, fellow gift-giver! This guide will walk you through the world of wooden beer mugs, helping you find the ideal vessel to match your recipient's personality and preferences.
A Touch of Nature: Why Choose Wood?
Wooden mugs go beyond mere function; they're a statement piece. The natural beauty of wood adds a touch of rustic charm to any setting, while the material itself insulates your beer, keeping it cooler for longer. Plus, the unique grain and texture of each mug make it a one-of-a-kind treasure.
Navigating the Forest: Different Woods, Different Feels
The type of wood used plays a big role in the mug's aesthetics and performance. Popular choices include:
Oak:- Known for its durability and rich, golden tones, oak mugs offer a classic, timeless look.
Walnut:- This darker wood boasts a beautiful grain and imparts a subtle nutty aroma to your beer.
Cedar:- Lighter in color and weight, cedar mugs offer a natural, earthy feel and a hint of cedar fragrance.
Finding the Perfect Fit: Styles and Features
There's a wooden mug to suit every taste. Consider your recipient's preferences:
The Traditionalist:- Opt for a hefty tankard with a handle for a truly medieval vibe.
The Craft Beer Aficionado:- Choose a mug with a narrower mouth to concentrate the aromas of complex brews.
The Casual Enjoyer:- Select a lighter-weight mug for everyday use.
Personalization Power:- Making it Special
Engraving the recipient's name, initials, or a special message on their mug adds a sentimental touch that elevates it to a cherished heirloom.
Still Stumped? We Can Help!
Feeling overwhelmed by the choices? Don't fret! At The Brand Barrel, we specialize in helping you find the perfect wooden beer mug for any occasion. With our curation of high-quality, handcrafted mugs, you're sure to discover the ideal gift that will have them raising a toast in appreciation.
So, ditch the ordinary and embrace the rustic charm of wood. With the right mug, you're gifting more than just a vessel; you're gifting an experience, a conversation starter, and a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. What are you waiting for? Start crafting the perfect beer-soaked memory today!
P.S. What type of beer would your recipient pair with their new wooden mug? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
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digitalcombination · 2 years
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Personalized Kitchenware and Cooking Utensils
Personalized Kitchenware and Cooking Utensils
Personalizing something like Personalized Cooking Utensils by LoTech makes it feel more special. It allows the recipient to have a connection with the gift. Personalized kitchenware and cooking utensils are a great way to make a gift more special. Customized gifts can be tailored to fit the person’s needs and preferences. Wooden Spoons Personalized wooden spoons for cooking are a unique gift that…
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Imagine calling Sanji “Love Cook”…
Walking onto the deck you found Luffy laying on the wooden planks. Usopp was sitting beside him, Nami had her eyes through a set of binoculars with Zoro close by, head against the railing as he rest his eyes.
“What have I missed?” You asked.
Usopp looked at you and sighed. “Sanji said dinner would take longer than usual today.”
Zoro huffed. “Damn waiter probably burned the first batch.”
Usopp doubted the comment. Luffy jumped up and grabbed your shoulders as a realisation dawned. “Sanji doesn’t say no to you.”
And so, you were on the mission to uncover the great secret. You heard noises from behind the kitchen door and knocked while pushing the wooden panel open.
“You know, Luffy says that you’re being awfully tight-lipped about tonight’s dinner.” You walked in and saw pots and pans strewn across every surface possible. At the heart of the mess was the blonde-haired chef with a bowl and whisk in hand, mixing a blue-coloured cream.
“Wow. It’s like Mihawk tore his way through this place.” Your comment had Sanji turn, his concentrated frown flipping almost immediately.
He chuckled and approached the counter as you did the same on the other side. “Mihawk could only dream.”
He slowed the whisking and lowered the bowl. Grabbing a small spoon, Sanji scooped a small amount into his mouth and hummed in delight.
“Any chance I could get a taste?” You asked, voice rising in pitch ever so slightly while you took a seat.
Putting the spoon and bowl aside, Sanji wiped his hands of the excess flour with a white cloth. “Not today, I’m afraid.” While he didn’t normally decline your requests, today was a necessary evil so he offered a bit of insight as a peace offering.
“It’s a celebratory meal. Something special for entering the Grand Line.” He explained, pride in his voice as he threw the towel over his shoulders. “So, today's menu is a secret that I won’t be sharing with anyone.”
“Not even me, Love Cook?”
Sanji’s eyes closed as he gave bashful smile at the nickname. You were pressing his buttons and it was taking all his willpower to resist. He hummed knowingly and then looked at you.
“You know I can see what you’re trying to do, right?”
You leaned forward, eyes staring into his blue ones before briefly - and not discretely - dipping to his lips. “Is it working?”
Sanji also leaned across the counter until his nose bumped lightly against yours.
“How about I make you a deal? Let me keep this one secret for a little longer and I’ll make it up to you. Cakes, kisses - whatever you want.”
You smiled back at him. “And what if both those options sound good?”
Sanji inched a little closer and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “Whatever you want.”
~ More imagines here ~
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okaylikesmomo · 5 months
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Birthday Part 3: Dinner
~5k words, Nayeon smut, male reader
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The gentle chime of a notification stole your attention as you tapped away on your phone, looking for inspiration. Allegedly, Sana had your gift waiting back at her apartment. It was a bit reassuring to know she didn’t actually forget your existence, but you still had one stop to make first before addressing your irrational worries.
As soon as you entered Nayeon and Momo's apartment, your nose was pleasantly surprised by those delectable fumes that you knew all too well. The smell intensified as you moved further inside the flat, forcing your mouth to water.
“This smells absolutely divine,” you announced as you finally walked up to the kitchen where you found Momo juggling multiple pans. She dropped the little wooden utensil she was stirring with into a pot and turned on her heels.
“You made it,” she cheered while launching her arms to the roof. “Happy birthday!”
Without hesitation you stepped up to her, hugging her tightly and lifting her off her feet.
“Of course I made it,” you spun her around playfully, relishing in the joyful squeals escaping her mouth. “Is there anything I can help you with?” you mumbled into her shoulder, just now taking in the sweet perfume she wore as your nose pressed into her, swaying back and forth with her in your arms.
“You could start by letting me down,” she answered pragmatically.
“I don’t want to,” you whined as you put her down carefully. “Really though, need help?”
“Nope!” she replied cheerily while turning back to the pot and resuming her stirring. “Actually, go ahead and set the table, it’s almost ready.”
Ignoring her suggestion, you stepped up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder.
“What if I’d rather just hold you?”
“That’s fine,” she giggled. “It’s your birthday after all, but I do need you to pass me that spoon then.”
After giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, you let go of her and handed her the spoon before leaning against the countertop.
“Where’s Nayeon? Wasn’t she supposed to be back by now?” you asked, watching as Momo worked.
“She said to eat without her, she’s running late,” Momo replied, her cheery demeanor disappearing for a brief moment before returning as she held a spoonful of broth up for you to taste. “Poor girl is working late every night it feels like.”
“I know, I kinda felt bad taking the day off, but she insisted,” you leaned forward and opened your mouth. “Mmm,” you gasped as the hot broth entered your mouth, nearly burning your tongue. “That’s delicious, way spicier than I expected.”
“You like spicy,” Momo smiled proudly to herself, turning back to the pot. “Don’t feel bad, you’ve been with her every single day, she’ll survive one without you.”
“Of course she’ll survive, I just want to make sure she has support.”
“She has a lot of support, stop worrying,” Momo said as she turned off the burner. “What about you and Sana? How does she feel about you spending almost all your time with Nayeon?”
“She understands.”
“Does she understand even when you’re too tired to go back home and end up spending the night here?” Momo continued, pulling dishes out of the cabinet as she spoke.
“She… did she say something to you?” you asked while accepting the two bowls Momo handed you. “Where’s this coming from?”
“It’s nothing like that,” Momo clarified, leaning over and pecking you on the cheek. “I’m just asking. In case you forgot, Sana is one of my best friends”
“I believe her,” you walked the bowls over to the table. “Plus, she knows I’m the one who ends up sleeping alone in a bed while you two share, we usually end up video calling.”
“Ew, I’m washing my sheets,” Momo scrunched her face. “I don’t wanna hear about that, not about my own bed.”
“We don’t do anything like that,” you laughed, taking the next dish from her hands. “Also, seriously, as if your bed is a sacred place,” you added with a roll of your eyes.
“It’s different when it’s with me,” Momo scoffed while scooping rice into two smaller bowls.
“Right, because we’ve totally never also had other girls in your bed with us,” you chuckled, picking up a dish of kimchi.
“Is that what you want tonight? I’m sure it can be arranged,” she asked in her sultry, teasing voice.
“Slow down there tiger,” you sat down at the table. “How about we start with dinner?”
“I can be your dinner,” Momo whispered as she took a seat across from you, flashing her seductive eyes in your direction.
“In that case why don’t we head straight to your bedroom?”
“No wait, I’m joking,” Momo quickly dropped the act to focus on the real priority at hand. “I put way too much effort into this meal to waste it.”
“It looks amazing,” you took a whiff of the stew. “Thanks for all this, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble, you know I would have been perfectly happy with something simple or takeout.”
“I wanted to!” Momo smiled as she started pouring broth into her bowl. “I tried some new things this time, so I hope you still like it.”
“In my experience, I’m usually a huge fan of when you try new things,” you smirked while filling your own bowl.
“Good, because lately I’ve been practicing.”
“Practicing?” you repeated, holding your spoon up to your mouth. “With whom?”
The conversation was interrupted by the clicking of the front door.
“I’m home!” Nayeon announced, walking up and basically falling onto you. “Happy birthday cutie,” she sighed as she hugged you from the side before she gave you a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, how was today? Did they fix the-”
“Not now,” she shushed you, bringing a finger to your lips.  “We’ll talk about work stuff later,” she added before leaning forward and planting another kiss on your cheek. “And I hope you saved some for me,” Nayeon added while turning over to Momo.
“Of course,” Momo smiled up at Nayeon, her eyes twinkling.
What happened next was unexpected to say the least. Nayeon bent over, tilted her head slightly, and pressed her lips against Momo’s mouth. The two of them began kissing; it wasn’t a little playful peck, it was full-blown making out. You watched in awe as Nayeon grabbed Momo’s face with her hands while Momo reached up and grabbed Nayeon’s waist.
They kept on kissing, ignoring the fact that you were right there. You had never seen them do this before, and you frankly didn’t know how to react. As shocking as it was, it was also incredibly sexy, but your mind was too confused to truly appreciate the scene. It felt like an eternity before they finally stopped and Nayeon stood back up.
“I’m going to take a quick shower,” Nayeon said casually as she walked away. “Can you send birthday boy into my room after you’re done eating? I have a present for him.”
“Sure,” Momo answered indifferently as she returned her attention to the food. “Are you not joining us?”
“I’ll eat later, I’m not particularly hungry,” Nayeon replied.
After Nayeon’s door slammed shut, you sat there staring at Momo.
“What’s up?” she asked after noticing your staring.
“What’s up? Are we not going to talk about what just happened?”
“Huh, what do you mean?” Momo asked before scooping a spoonful of rice into her mouth.
“You just… you and Nayeon… hello?”
“Chaeyoung’s also in that one,” Momo commented nonchalantly while sipping on the broth.
“What?”
“Hello we up run this city yo-”
“Momo really, what just happened?”
“What, the kiss? That’s nothing, just a bit of friendliness.”
“Friendliness?!” your eyebrows shot up. “That wasn’t friendliness, that was more like ‘what are we naming our kids’ territory.”
“Are you jealous or something? Come here, we can kiss as well,” she pouted her lips playfully.
“Momo…” you chuckled. “Is there something I should know about going on?”
“It’s not that serious,” she began laughing. “I’ve just been doing some extra stuff for her to help her relax after all these long days.”
“Wow.”
“Even if it was serious, how come you’re fine with Mina and Chae, but when it’s me and Nayeon it’s an issue all of a sudden.”
“First of all, it’s not an issue at all,” you clarified. “Secondly, Mina and Chae don’t kiss like that.”
Momo raised an eyebrow at you.
“Do they?”
“Really?” Momo giggled. “If Chae didn’t like living with those two so badly, Mina would have moved in with her by now.”
“Is it really that serious?”
“No, I’m kidding,” Momo giggled again. “Since there’s only one of you to go around, sometimes we just pretend to be extra romantic with each other, it’s all just for fun.”
“Extra romantic for fun…” you repeated while contemplating. “That could be an interesting premise for a TTT.”
“Are you thinking about work right now?” Momo scolded you, giving your shins a light kick.
“Sorry, you’re right, I should be focused on this phenomenal meal.”
“That’s right,” Momo smiled to herself.
You reached across the table and grabbed her hand, leaving her with a shocked face reminiscent of a deer in headlights as she looked up at you.
“Seriously, it’s delicious. Thank you again for the thousandth time,” you said sincerely.
“It’s… it’s the least I could do,” Momo stammered as the rosiness crept up into her cheeks.
Her slender fingers gave your hand a little squeeze before letting go, leaving her staring at the food spread in front of her. The two of you finished the meal in mostly silence, conversing over mundane topics of little interest to you; all you truly cared about was spending time with Momo.
Every time you got the opportunity to sit down and have a one on one with her, you were reminded of just how much you enjoy her company. With the hectic nature of your careers and the juggling of all the members, sometimes you found yourself trying to make excuses to spend more time with Momo alone.
Whether it was those late nights watching Netflix when Nayeon would pass out, or giving her company at the offices when she would come to visit. Momo always managed to make your heart beat just a little bit quicker. Nayeon would record her songs while you would spend time watching Momo dance, single handedly being her entire audience.
“I know I’ve already said it, but that was delightful,” you commented as you scraped the final bit of rice out of your bowl.
“Any time,” Momo smiled peacefully.
“Maybe I should spend the evening here more often.”
“Hey, don’t forget that you have a girl who waits for you every night.”
“That’s true,” you agreed, silently feeling less upset about Sana not being there this morning. “She’s a special girl.”
Momo suddenly stood up and began stacking the empty dishes.
“Nayeon’s probably done showering, I can clean up.”
“I’ll help.”
“No, you don’t have to,” Momo said curtly before carrying the dishes to the kitchen.
Once again, you ignored her instructions, and picked up the remaining plates and cups.
“I said you didn’t have to do that,” Momo said without looking back as she began dropping the dishes in the sink.
“I know” you said as you placed the dishes in the sink before turning off the tap.
“It’s going to be difficult to wash these if you do that.”
“You’re not washing dishes right now,” you whispered into her ear from behind as you slid your hands around her waist.
As your hands moved toward her chest, you quickly discovered that she wasn't wearing a bra. You began to gently squeeze Momo's plush mounds as you admired her flawless form.
“Then what am I doing right now?” Momo asked.
“Not dishes.”
Your palm grazed against Momo's firm core as it moved down her body.
“Not tonight,” Momo whispered quietly.
“What’s wrong?” you asked while standing up straight and immediately pulling your arms away. Before you could let go of her completely, she grabbed your hands and kept them placed on her waist. “Momo?”
“Hold me.”
There was a tension to her voice, one you couldn’t quite comprehend, but you satisfied her request and wrapped your arms around her stomach once again. While squeezing her gently enough to where you could feel each and every breath she took, you leaned your face into the back of her neck.
That sweet scent she wore was addicting; your mind stood no chance. It wasn’t entirely clear what she wanted, yet the way her hands softly wrapped around yours was enough to make you want to hold on forever. Holding Momo forever didn’t sound that bad in your head - the logistics of how that would work hardly mattered.
“Everything alright?” you asked quietly, giving her a quick squeeze.
“Yeah,” she mumbled back. “You should go to Nayeon, I’m probably going to bed.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“If something was wrong, you’d tell me, right?”
Momo turned around in your arms and faced you with a smile - one that you could see right through.
“Absolutely.”
“Is that offer still up for grabs?” you inquired.
“Offer?” she asked with a confused tilt of her head.
You pouted your lips playfully which earned a heavy exhale from Momo alongside a genuine smile. She leaned forward and pecked you on the lips before beginning to walk away.
“Goodnight.”
“Momo,” you grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
She spun around, tripping just enough for her to fall into your embrace in the most drama-esque ridiculousness. Her hands landed on your chest, catching her fall, while you wrapped one arm around her body to support her. That direct eye contact sent epinephrine coursing through your veins. Your heart rate elevated, and a warmth flooded into your core, proliferating throughout your limbs.
Without saying a word, you leaned into her until your noses gently brushed. For just a second, you held yourself right in front of her before she angled her face enough to press her lips against yours. Her soft lips squished against yours as she kissed you, her breath entering your mouth.
It was intoxicating. Addicting to the point where you didn’t even notice your hand subconsciously sliding down and resting on her lower back. You were too immersed in the kiss - a proper kiss. The emotion could be felt all the way to your fingertips and toes, that warmth in your core burning throughout every segment of your body.
After the kiss finally ended, the two of you stood there in silence with your foreheads gently touching. You became acutely aware of where your hand traveled and subtly moved it back up to her waist, but she was unbothered by it. Her deep breaths were steady, telling a story in their own way, a plot you followed closely.
“Goodnight,” you whispered, leaning back and using your free hand to push her hair out of her face.
Momo nodded silently before turning around and slowly walking to her room. She paused in her door frame for a second as if she was considering options, showing you her side profile before making her decision, disappearing behind the shut door, leaving you alone in the kitchen with your thoughts.
“No way this is for me.”
“It is!”
“Seriously?”
“Alright, no it’s not,” Nayeon laughed before pausing the song. “It just turned out to be a cute coincidence.”
“I knew you weren’t that sweet,” you teased, giving her ribs a playful little poke.
“Hey now, I wouldn’t be too quick to say that,” Nayeon replied while batting your hand away. “This one actually was inspired by you.”
“I’m not sure I can trust you.”
“Are you calling Sana a liar?” Nayeon smirked before switching the song.
My eyes, your eyes, let’s go.
Your confusion was quickly erased after hearing the next line as you recalled Sana’s reference back in Oakland. The melody was amazing, it sounded so comforting to your ears - and the lyrics were painfully catchy.
“Baby I just wanna be your lover,” you quietly sang along while Nayeon proudly watched your reaction. “Nayeon, this is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” she sighed, unable to hide her nerves. “I’m not worried about the other tracks though, it’s the choreo that’s still stressing me out.”
“Pop pop pop,” you muttered while flipping your hands around.
Nayeon gave you an odd look as you butchered the choreography before the two of you burst out laughing. She lowered the volume a little and extended her hand for you to join her on the bed. As soon as you took her hand, she tugged you onto her while she lay on her back. Her bathrobe slipped open to reveal her chest, but she didn't appear to mind at all.
“You’re going to be fine,” you whispered while resting your cheek on her chest, her right breast directly in front of you.
“I’m glad at least one of us is confident,” she sighed while stroking the back of your head absentmindedly.
“I’ve seen you practicing,” you said while reaching your hand up to her breast and cupping it, letting the bathrobe fall completely. “You’ve nailed every part other than the gang signs.”
“Gang signs?” Nayeon laughed while you began squeezing her tit. “Is that what they are?”
“How else would you describe them?” you chuckled, playing with her nipple between your fingers. “I already know that part’s going to be all over TikTok.”
“Oh great,” she said sarcastically.
“I know filming a hundred dance challenges is exhausting,” you responded while rubbing your hand in circles. “Thanks for being a good sport about it.”
“They’re not too bad, honestly,” she yawned loudly. “Exhausting, yes, but at least it’s an excuse to spend some time with idol friends.”
“Tired?” you asked as your hand left her breast and slid down her body to her thigh, giving it a light massage.
“Very,” she yawned again. “What did the others end up doing? I didn’t get a chance to read the whole group chat, all I know about is Dahyun’s and Momo’s plans.”
“We had a bit of fun together,” you answered while untying the half-removed bathrobe and fully tossing it open.
You began to rub your hand between Nayeon’s thighs, sliding upwards until your fingers grazed her intimate bits.
“Wait,” Nayeon grabbed your wrist. “It’s your birthday, let me-”
“Oh shush,” you turned your face into her and took her left tit into your mouth.
At the same time, you slowly slipped your fingers up and down her slit, pausing each time to press down against her clit. You sucked on her left nipple until it was fully erect before releasing it from your lips with a wet pop.
The hand you had between her legs kept moving up and down, teasing her entrance as you moved your face over to her right tit. Your other hand replaced your mouth on her left tit, squeezing it softly, flicking at her taut nipple.
Just as you took her breast into your mouth, you slowly eased your middle finger into her pussy at the same time. She moaned gently, completely relaxed to your touch. Nayeon’s natural lubricant made slipping in easy, and you wasted no time before slipping your ring finger in as well.
“Birthday or not, I’m still in charge of taking care of you,” you said while admiring the shine of your saliva on Nayeon’s tits. “Fast? Slow? What kind of mood are we in tonight?”
“Slow,” Nayeon moaned, eyes closed, head pressing into the mattress.
“Slow it is,” you smiled at her before following her request, gently moving your fingers back and forth in her pussy, going all the way down to the knuckle.
Even with Nayeon’s exceptional wetness, tonight she was tighter than usual. It was almost like you could feel the stress and tension she was under through her pussy. You put full effort in your movements, trying your absolute best to make it feel good for her.
“Nayeon sweetie, relax,” you whispered, leaning closer to her face and giving her a quick kiss on the lips.
Her breathing began to calm down, the muscles in her pussy throbbing gently with your touch. Her pussy didn’t loosen up much, but her contorted facial expression converted into one displaying more satisfaction.
“That’s better,” you gently encouraged her, curling your fingers inside her slightly.
“Mmmmmhh,” she moaned out. “That’s nice, keep… that…”
Your fingers kept moving while you made your way down her body, pausing briefly to kiss her tummy. Her lower body began to squirm, and you could see her back start to arch towards the roof.
As your mouth approached her pussy, you gave your lips a quick lick before pressing them against her crotch. You loved her taste. The freshness of her just-showered skin, the subtle scent of her products, the lust emanating from her pussy. Eating Nayeon out was the best gift.
Her pussy made your mind go numb. The slight tang of her fluids had your tastebuds overwhelmed, you even removed your fingers so that you could focus entirely on licking her thoroughly. It went on for a while, longer than it usually took for Nayeon to cum, when you decided you wanted more.
With your hands on the back of her thighs, you pushed her legs up, knees to her chest. You ran your tongue down her slit one last time before going lower, kissing her on the way down. Once you were face to face with her tight little asshole, you gently pressed your mouth against the entrance.
“Oh,” Nayeon moaned softly while reaching one hand down between her legs, rubbing her pussy.
It wasn’t until you pushed your tongue past the tightness of her little asshole when you felt her hand grab your hair. She began guiding you, treating your hair like reins, making you pleasure her in exactly the way she desired. It was working, you could feel her body begin trembling.
At some point you noticed you had lowered your own pants and began gently stroking yourself. Truthfully, you don’t even remember when it happened, you were too distracted with Nayeon’s body. She was riding the edge of her orgasm - you knew she was close.
Finally, you removed your mouth from her body and straightened your body. She looked up at you, eyes begging for what you were about to give her. She needed to get fucked by you in this moment, there was nothing else she could think about. You positioned yourself between her legs, pressing down the insides of her thighs to spread them wider.
First you went deep into her pussy, making her exhale softly. The soft warmth of her pussy felt amazing, and this was just the warm up. You fucked her gently for a bit, but you could see the gears turning in her head, you could see she was getting desperate for you to take her in another way.
As you withdrew your cock from her warm pussy, her wetness making your shaft glisten, Nayeon pulled her knees together slightly. You pushed her legs up this time, lifting her butt off the bed slightly, giving you the perfect angle into her ass. Carefully, you pushed your tip into her tight little asshole. Once it was in, you threw away any considerations of tenderness and shoved your cock balls deep into her ass.
Nayeon inhaled sharply, squinting her eyes for a moment before relaxing and slowly exhaling through her mouth. You could see her pussy leaking before you, even without any thrusting. Once you were satisfied that she was alright, you began moving your hips back and forth. It was slow, but not gentle. Each time you pushed your cock into her, you made sure she took the entire length.
“Fuck,” Nayeon moaned after one excessively rough slam. “Faster…” she added in a whisper.
You leaned forward, pressing the back of her knees to press her femur against her chest, squishy her soft thigh gently. The new position let you go just a bit deeper, perfect for what you were about to do.
Then you began fucking Nayeon relentlessly. Her mouth shot open, silently screaming as her hands gripped the bed sheets until her knuckles went white. That orgasm she had been on the edge of for so long as approaching rapidly now - you could feel it coming.
Her asshole was squeezing your cock unbearably hard now, and her pussy was flowing freely. It was magnificent, you could see her physically losing control the harder you went. After just a few finals thrusts, her pussy shot up like a fountain. She couldn’t stay silent, she let out a loud shriek before panting heavily, pulse after pulse of pleasure running through her body.
Normally you’d slow down, let her ride out the orgasm gently, but you were nearing your own. You kept fucking her, roughly, and it was blatantly obvious that she was enjoying it. Her cries of pleasure continued, her orgasm continued, her pleasure continued.
Then it finally hit you. You could feel your own orgasm rapidly approaching, but you suddenly went over the edge without warning. The warm cum erupting from your cock began filling Nayeon’s tight asshole, the numbing pleasure finally becoming too much for you to handle.
The thrusting had to stop, the sensory overload was too much. Your body couldn’t handle any more stimulation as you lay there, balls deep in Nayeon’s asshole, pumping her gently until you had no more cum to give. You fell forward, falling between her legs as she quickly spread them, making room for you.
Your mouths connected and your cock slipped out of her asshole. The two of you kissed passionately, Nayeon telling you how much she enjoyed what just happened without speaking a single word. She had a way of expressing herself in times like this, a way that you could understand so well.
The last thing you could remember was the feeling of Nayeon’s soft lips against yours before you passed out.
“Good morning.”
“Morning,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes before launching your body up. “Morning? Oh shit, Sana…”
“Under normal circumstances a girl would be pissed if her man woke up after sleeping with her and said another girl’s name,” Nayeon chuckled.
“I need to go,” you panicked, looking around the room for your pants.
“Calm down, you only slept for an hour,” Nayeon grabbed your wrist as you tried standing up. 
“Holy shit, don’t scare me like that,” you scolded her before sitting on the edge of the bed with your face in your hands.
“I’m sowwy’,” Nayeon cooed into your ear from behind as she wrapped her arms around your chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s really not your fault,” you replied, turning slightly to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I just know she’s waiting for me, I didn’t want to disappoint her.”
“If she knew the first words out of your mouth when you woke up included her name, I’m sure she’d be far from disappointed,” Nayeon giggled. “You really care for her, everyone can see that no matter how hard you try to hide your relationship.”
“We’re not hiding it-”
“But you’re intentionally not flaunting it,” Nayeon interjected. “The girls won’t say it, but some of them definitely appreciate it.”
“I…” you began. “Sometimes I feel like this isn’t right.”
“Which part?” Nayeon asked, joining you on the edge of the bed and handing you your pants.
“I don’t really know how to explain it, but it just feels a bit wrong committing to one girl knowing…”
“That some of us also have feelings for you?” Nayeon finished your thought.
“Yeah…” you confirmed. “I know it’s an open relationship and all, but still…”
“I think you should ask yourself if you’re happy,” Nayeon said gently, resting a hand on your thigh. “If you’re happy with this arrangement, then it’s your right.”
“Of course I’m happy, I really do love Sana, but…”
“You think you might have feelings for someone else?”
“How do you-”
“I’m not stupid,” Nayeon smiled. “This might come as a shocker to you, but I do talk to the girls from time to time.”
“So what should I do?”
“You’re going to have to figure that out yourself, and until you know what you truly want, I don’t see any reason for you to make any drastic changes,” Nayeon suggested calmly. “You clearly still have feelings for Sana, as long as the two of you are on the same page I don’t see why you need to change anything.”
“Is it fair to the others, though?” you asked hesitantly.
“It’ll never be easy,” Nayeon responded cautiously. “The nature of your job… complicates… things. It makes sense that you have feelings for some of the girls, and it makes sense that they develop feelings for you.”
“God, I must sound so stupid right now,” you chuckled meekly. “I should just be grateful for what I have, shouldn’t I?"
“You’re not stupid,” Nayeon reassured you. “Your job basically made this inevitable, but as long as you’re honest about what you do, I think the ten of us will be able to get through whatever happens.”
“It must be so difficult for the members who have started to develop feelings, knowing that I’m still sleeping with their friends.”
“You’re right.”
“Nayeon…” you turned to stare into her eyes, noticing now they weren’t dry.
“Don’t apologize,” Nayeon whispered, wiping her eyes clean. “I did for a moment, but not anymore.”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“I said don’t apologize,” Nayeon cut you off before standing up. “But you should really go see Sana, like you said, she’s waiting for you.”
You stood up as well, standing right in front of her.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m perfect,” she smiled at you. “Really, those feelings are gone, this is just a mutually beneficial, if not somewhat unorthodox, agreement between two adults.”
Hearing that would have probably hurt if you believed a word she just said.
“Have a good night, Nayeon.”
---
A/N:
Huh, how long has it been since I updated this story? I hope I have the time to keep working on it because I have SO MANY PLANS. I've also become a bit more sappy, so I think I might be releasing some more emotional chapters with less smut? We'll see!
Once again I must admit, I am putting a bit less effort in the sense that I am just writing with how I feel instead of overthinking and planning every little detail. Maybe less effort isn't the proper phrasing, but basically I'm just going more with the flow.
Hopefully you guys enjoy, I actually planned on including Sana's part in this chapter, but I made a few changes and decided it should be a separate chapter. Cliffhanger and all that I guess.
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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months
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Simmer #3
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CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.
Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 
The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 
Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 
Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”
It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 
It was easy. It was simple. 
That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 
“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”
You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—
“Jesus, watch it!”
You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 
“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 
You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”
You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 
“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”
Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”
You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 
“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”
He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”
You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”
Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 
“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 
 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 
“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”
You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 
You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 
“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”
“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”
Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”
Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”
Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 
“Well?”
“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 
“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”
Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 
The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 
He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 
“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”
—————
By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 
“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”
So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 
Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”
You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 
“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”
“Think he was lookin’ for you.”
You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 
Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 
“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 
“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 
Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”
So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 
Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 
“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”
Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 
The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 
“Sorry.”
—————
Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  
He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 
There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 
“Thank you.”
Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 
“You got a crush, my friend?” 
Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 
“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 
He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 
—————
The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 
It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 
She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—
The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 
So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 
But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 
The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 
You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”
Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 
You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”
Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”
Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 
“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”
Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 
Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 
You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”
The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 
“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 
“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”
When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 
“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”
You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”
Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 
And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 
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sucker4colby · 11 months
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Just a favor
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Warning : cussing, gets steamy 🤭
Word count :1636
Summary: you asked your friend Colby for a favor in which he does it very well.
Pairing: Colby Brock x female reader
“Colby” you called out your friends name running down the stairs almost tripping over the last step in a rush. He called out from the kitchen where he was sitting on the counter a spoon of cereal in one hand and his phone in the other. Running in you slid across the wooden floors due to your socks you came up behind him throwing your arms around his shoulders from behind causing his spoon to hit his bowl of cereal loudly. “ you know I love you so much right? And you’re my absolute favorite person ever.” You gushed at him leaving slobbery kisses on his cheek. Scrunching his nose he put his hand on your face to prevent you from attacking his cheek pushing you away.
“ what do you want ?” He asked grumpily wiping off your kisses causing you to pout at him.
“ I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” You told him going straight to the point. You were supposed to be filming a scene with your ex boyfriend today for the show you were cast in, you broke things off with him because he was controlling and he continued to message you thinking he still had a chance. During your whole relationship he hated Colby because he knew Colby had a crush on you but you weren’t the type to cheat and reassured him but it wasn’t enough so what better way to show up than with the guy he was jealous of. Plus Colby owed you for covering for him when he was in prank wars.
“Why?” He asked turning to look at you on his stool. “ josh is supposed to be a guest in this episode we’re filming and I want him to lay off.” You whined hoping that Colby would say yes because he liked you that much. “ no , why pretend, when it can be real.” He smiled his beautiful smile at you cheeks bones lifted while he grabbed your hand to pull you in. You yelped stumbling into his parted legs hands resting on his shoulder to keep yourself from falling into him. You were nose to nose with him your wide eyes staring into his blue ones. “ oh my god Colby yes or no.” You asked pushing off his shoulders. “ do I get to kiss you.” He asked quirking an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes at his childish behavior. “ yeah whatever.” You mumbled walking away to get ready. “ love you” he called at your retreating figure getting a middle finger in return.
****************
You had to rush Colby to get ready so you could Make it to hair and makeup but he had taken his sweet time getting ready almost making you late. You were running through the studio building the set was set up in, Colby’s fingers interlaced with yours so he wouldn’t get lost. He tried to keep up with your scurrying feet trying to dodge people as easily as you did but it was hard when he was a lot more taller than you. He couldn’t even enjoy the feeling of your hands interlocked with each other because it felt like you were going to dislocate his shoulder every time you did a sudden turn as you tugged him along.
To his relief you had made it into the hair and makeup trailer following you in as you barged in but in a calmer pace. You wanted to groan out loud seeing your ex sitting in one of the chairs getting his hair done looking up from his phone to look at you his eyes lighting up. The joy didn’t last once he caught sight of the blue eyed boy trailing behind him. Smirking to yourself you turn around to face your friend reaching for his hand. “ baby you can sit over there.” You smiled at Colby pointing over to the couch against the wall. He nodded about to walk away but you surprised him by tugging on his shirt catching his attention once more. You leaned up on your tippy toes and placed a kiss on his lips causing his breathe to hitch before pulling away and smiling up at him and skipping away to your chair. He stared at you dumbstruck that you actually went through with kissing him, something he had been wanting to do since he met you. His attention was token away from you at the sound of your ex slamming the trailer door on his way out angrily.
************
You had finished getting ready and change so you led Colby to sit on your chair while you filmed so he could watch you in action. He still couldn’t shake off the kiss you had given him early and he found himself wanting to feel your lips again, now that he had gotten a taste he wanted more. But His flirty demeanor was suddenly gone making him act all shy around you otherwise he would’ve stolen a couple kisses from you using the excuse that he was your “boyfriend”. You kissed his cheek goodbye running off a couple feet away to speak to the director about your scene. Now that you were somewhere else his attention was able to wonder off, he looked around in amazement at the production sight. It was like a colony of ants, everyone scurrying around talking loudly trying to get work done, it was an incredible sight. As he finished looking at the set his eyes met those of your ex causing his eyebrows to raise in amusement at the glare that was being sent his way. Feeling confident all over again he smiled smugly at him raising his hand and wiggling his fingers in a hello motion to antagonize him. He laughed at the visible scowl your ex portrayed moving his eyes back to your figure where you were walking towards set your ex heading that way for the scene.
**********
You hadn’t mentioned that your ex would be your love interest for this episode so Colby sat there angrily as your ex kept messing up the scene on purpose. You were getting impatient and irritated that he kept kissing you wrong on purpose even though the director had gotten onto him, he kept moving his head weird so he could block the cameras angle. Finally having enough you asked for a time out running off set and towards Colby. Your ex called your name but you ignored him angrily grabbing Colby’s hand and yanking him towards the back. “ woah hey slow down.” He pulled on your hand trying to calm you down. You sighed running your fingers through your hair in frustration. “ he’s doing that on purpose Colby! It’s fucking annoying and he’s going to slow production down.” You rambled angrily glaring over at your ex who was staring at you guys.
Colby frowned at your frustration state knowing how serious you took your job, it upset him knowing that jackass was making it hard on you just to be petty. Letting out a sigh he grabbed your Chin making you look him in the eyes. “ I know mama but you just have to do your part. Let him get in trouble. He’s taking advantage of the situation but at the end of the day you’re not going back to him and he knows that.” He reassured you trying to lift your spirits up which seemed to lift your spirits up just a tiny bit by the nod of your head. “ here I’ll get him off your ass.” He told you feeling confident in his next move. Before you could ask what he meant he pulled you in by your cheeks placing his lips on yours. It was just as good as the first one and he was going to make the most of it not getting enough of your plump lips against him.
Your head was spinning the smell of his cologne overwhelming you in the best way, you wanted to moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping your cheek and the other one that rest on your hip. You wanted nothing more than to go back to your trailer and letting him have his way with you with the way he was kissing you. The sound of your whimper traveled straight to his dick when he pulled back gently tucking on your button lip with his teeth, he let out a moan when you chased his lips wanting more. “ we’ll finish this later.” He promised knowing you were seeing him in a new light. He knew you no longer saw him as your friend and he was excited for you to wrap up so you could continue, he couldn’t get enough of you.
You looked so pretty to him, droopy eyes, swollen lips and breathless as you looked at him like he put the stars in the sky.
You honestly don’t know why you kept rejecting his advances towards you but after that kiss you felt like an idiot for doing so. You could’ve been getting kissed silly but you were so foolish and kept rejecting the gorgeous man in front you.
Nodding in agreement still in a daze from him you received one more kiss before being pushed by Colby towards set. Your ex had completely left your mind but he was furious and after that display he made sure to get it right not wanting to think of Colby’s lips on yours. Luckily for you he wanted to get as far away from you as possible allowing you to wrap up so you could go back to the awaiting boy. You guys laughed at your exs behavior happy that the message was loud and clear and he wouldn’t be bothering you anymore. In a happy mood you guys went home where you could continue your business in private.
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whore4abby · 7 months
Text
cookies; dbf!abby anderson
part one part two
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warnings; almost smut?? - older!abby (refers to herself as mama once), ass + tit grabbing, tiny mention of nipple play, mdni
wc; 1.2k
a soft knock at the front door startles you out of you thoughts. you glances at the time on your phone, realising it was a little too early for your dad to be home. you set down the bowl you were mixing cookie dough in and walk towards the front door, your curiosity piqued. you instantly recognise the tall figure on the opposite side of the frosted glass and your eyes widen slightly, you freeze for a second before gaining the confidence to actually open the door.
you open the door and abby stands there leaning against the doorway, her broad shoulders almost touching each side of the frame. “hey kid….your dad home…?” she asks, looking past you into the rest of the house, as if looking for movement in the house.
“not yet….” you shake your head, feeling a little awkward as you fidget with your hands, pressing your glossy lips together. you stare at her in awe and after what feels like an eternity, you regain your composure and find the courage to speak. “oh…uhm, you wanna come in…?” you step aside a little and swing the door open further to invite her in.
abby steps over the threshold and into the house, wiping her boots off on the doormat. you practically gawk at her, her huge biceps straining against her t-shirt and making your mouth water and you quickly look away once she makes eye contact. abby smirks to herself, following you into the kitchen.
“you’re making cookies….?” she laughs softly as she notices the mess of a kitchen, utensils strews across the counters and dirty dishes filling the sink. you laugh awkwardly and nod as you pick up the wooden spoon again and finish mixing the cookie dough up. “mhm….baking calms me down i guess….”
she smiles and reaches over to take the spoon from your hand, her calloused fingertips brushing against yours. she maintains eye contact as she lifts it up to your mouth. struggling to keep a straight face as she watches your eyes widen, finding your nervousness a little endearing. “cmon….open up sweetheart~“
abby’s playful teasing seems to have an effect on you as you become hyper-aware of every little movement you make, slowly parting your lips and eating the sweet cookie dough from the spoon, trying hard to stay focused as you watch her gaze drop to your lips.
abby looks down at you in amusement, enjoying this little moment of intimacy that you both seem to be sharing. she lets the spoon fall out of her hand and back onto the countertop, landing with a subtle thud. “you just gonna stand there? those cookies won’t bake themselves…” she looks at you seductively as she speaks in a tone that is both sweet but suggestive. it’s clear that she has something else on her mind.
you snap out of your your momentary trance, your eyes refocus on the glass bowl placed before you, filled with the golden, saccharine mixture. having trouble focusing on the task of shaping the dough, abby notices the look of cluelessness on your face and chuckles lightly before leaning closer to you. “here… let mama do it~”
abby takes the bowl of cookie dough from you. she starts to roll up balls of the cookie dough and places them onto the tray. the contrast between her rough hands and the delicate dough is almost mesmerising. as her wrists flex, you find yourself distracted by the thick, pronounced veins that run up the back of her hands all the way to her elbows. they’re thick and bulging, a sight that almost has you drooling. you can’t help but be in awe of her as your eyes are glued onto her the entire time - it makes you curious as to what else she may be able to do with those hands…
once the whole tray is filled up with the even shaped cookies, abby passes you the baking sheet and stands behind you, placing her hands on your elbows and guiding you to slide the sheet of cookies into the awaiting oven, knowing that soon the sweet smell of homemade goodness will fill the kitchen. “atta girl…~”
once its been placed inside, she shuts the door and reaches over to set the timer for you. abby decides to stop teasing you and she walks over to the table and takes a seat in one of the white wooden chairs, keeping her eye on you the whole time as you start to clean the dirty dishes. her eyes begin to wander down to the curve of your ass as you stretch across the sink to grab the dish soap. the clinking sound of dishes being washed echoes in the room, with the occasional splash of soapy water.
you finish up cleaning the dishes and dry off your hands, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you see the sparkling dishes sat on the drying rack. turning away, you jump slightly as abby had somehow snuck up on you without you realising. “oh…! abs, you scared me….” you giggle breathlessly.
abby chuckles playfully as she spins you around and brings you closer to her by placing her arms around your waist. her strong muscular arms completely encircle you, providing you with a sense of complete infatuation as you look up at her dreamily.
“m’sorry sweet girl…~” abby mutters as she gently brushes your hair back from your face, caressing your soft cheek with her thumb. you freeze as you suddenly realize what's about happen and before you can even react, her hands move to cup your face tenderly as she gives you deep and long kisses, your tongues mixing and exploring each others mouths hungrily. her teeth sink into your bottom lip faintly, causing an involuntary whimper to bubble up from your throat.
abby softly and passionately continues to kiss your lips, her rough hands roaming down to your ass and gripping it firmly. she hoists you up effortlessly and places you on the counter, you shiver as your shorts ride up and the backs of your bare thighs make contact with the cold marble.
“abby….mmm fuck….~” you voice comes out as an airy whisper, tilting your head back as she begins to plant wet kisses across your delicate neck. her muscles flexing as she roughly squeezes at your bra-less tits through your shirt. her thumbs expertly caressing your nipples, the friction from the thin cotton causing them to harden even more as you arch your back and whimper in desperation.
abby softly runs her tongue across your neck. her strong tongue continues to explore every part of your neck and her warm breath against your skin causes you to shiver. “good girl….” abby purrs in your ear, her rough voice making you gasp. her hands slowly start to slide down to your ass and start to rub against the juicy flesh.
just then, the oven timer goes off. abby pulls away, a wicked grin on her face. she straightens back up and moves towards the oven, but not before giving you a rough kiss on the lips, her fingers squishing into your cheeks almost painfully.
and so she leaves you there on the counter, your hair dishevelled and your lips still wet from her passionate kisses. you take a moment to gather yourself, panting and feeling a mixture of confusion, desire, and disbelief….and wondering what the fuck just happened.
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justbreakonme · 6 months
Text
Signs of Change
Whumpee didn’t like it, when the seasons started to change. It still made him uneasy, knowing just how cold the nights could get and just how precarious his position could be. He was only safe as long as he was good, and the outdoors had no mercy.
But Caretaker did.
“Hey, Whumpee, why don’t you come in here? It’s warmer, since the stove’s going.” Caretaker’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he obeyed.
When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, the warmth enveloped him immediately. There was a large, silver soup pot boiling away on the stove, and the smell of onion and garlic and herbs and all sorts of things instantly made his mouth water.
“It needs to simmer for a bit longer, I think. Do you want to come sit with me?”
Whumpee nodded, and took a seat where he always did, across from Caretaker at the old wooden table.
“Not a talking day, huh?”
He shook his head, rubbing a fist in a circle over his chest.
Sorry.
“It’s fine, you’re good. I just like to check-in so I know.”
Whumpee couldn’t ever explain why sometimes words just, failed him. But, after his old owner, after being silent for so long, he sometimes felt…stuck.
“Do you feel like playing cards? I think we have enough time for a round of war…”
Whumpee nodded, dutifully turning to grab the cards from the little shelf in the corner. He liked cards. War was the first game they had played together, back when he’d first been bought rescued.
Caretaker had made it very clear that he wasn’t owned, anymore.
But he hoped maybe, maybe if he was really, really good, he could be. He had tried, once, to ask what he could do, if anything, to earn being owned again, but, the words had died in his mouth and he’d gone silent for days.
He understood why they didn’t want to own him, he wasn’t really worth very much. But, sometimes, he let himself believe that between him trying his very hardest and Caretakers inexplicable mercy, there might be a chance. Someday.
Caretaker handed him a stack of cards, and he brought the tips of his fingers to his chin, hand open and palm towards himself, then moved his hand out in front of him, almost in a swinging motion.
Thank you.
“You’re welcome.” Caretaker smiles as they play their first card, and he follows suit.
The game goes by quickly, and soon, the oven timer went off, making them both jump.
“Here, we’ll just scoot these over a bit and we can play while we eat. Would you grab the spoons?”
He nodded, carefully moving his pile of cards to the side and heading for the silverware drawer.
As Caretaker ladled out the soup, he placed a spoon at each of their spots, then, unsure if he should sit or wait for the next task, he hovered between the drawer and the table, wringing his hands.
As they turned to grab the bowls, they noticed his hesitation. “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring the bowls over.”
Another tap-then-outward gesture of thanks, and he sat back down, watching as they carefully ladled out two bowls of steaming soup.
Carefully, they carried one bowl at a time to the table, oven mitts on.
“Ooh- don’t try to hold it, it’s super hot.” Caretaker dodged where Whumpee had tried to help set the bowl down, instead opting to set it down on the edge and scoot it over so it didn’t spill.
He rubbed his fist over his chest in a circle again, more frantic this time.
Sorry, sorry!
“You’re good, I just didn’t want you to burn yourself,” they returned to the table with their own bowl, tossing the oven mitts onto the spare chair after settling in, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
He tried to mimic Caretaker, who was blowing gently on their soup, but the lump in his throat got in the way.
He wished, as he often did, that he could speak without speaking, in more ways than literally. He wished he could make them know things.
If he was patient and waited for his voice to return, or if he went to get one of the whiteboards Caretaker kept laying around for him, he could tell him that he would do anything for them. That they had his loyalty and devotion, his mind, body, and soul.
But he couldn’t make them know it the way he did. It snuck up on him, in moments like these, then hit like a tsunami.
His stillness must have caught their attention because they looked up. “You okay?”
He nodded, swallowing hard and smiling, then gave a timid thumbs up.
You don’t own me, but, I belong to you.
They grinned, giving him a thumbs up back, and another tsunami took his breath away.
But, that was fine. He’d let the soup cool on its own, and they would play cards, and for the first time in a very long while, he was able to forget the changing seasons and the morning frost.
It couldn’t touch him here.
Caretaker wouldn’t let it.
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seancekitsch · 22 days
Note
Hello!!! Good (Time of reading :p), could i request a lucifer x reader fic/headcanons (whatever fits) where the reader is new to hell and is way too nice for a place like this? They are in the hotel trying to get redeemed and to be safe.
If you need more ideas: reader cooking dinner for a tired lucifer
its a shortie but its cute!
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“Charlie, can you set me up with the new sinner? Lucifer had asked, “like on a date?”
He genuinely didn’t know what he was signing up for, certainly not a fully planned excursion through every sector of the ring. 
But you had politely bodied every challenge, not only endearing him to you, but also the rest of hell. 
You’d politely watched and cheered and clapped at the sex shows, you’d graciously accepted meals in cannibal town, avoided angering any turf wars on picnics and walks. It was like you were trying to score most popular in the Pride Ring. But Lucifer knew that wasn’t the case, he knew this was just you. Sweet you, polite you, undeserving of Hell you. 
“Do you like onions?” you call from the kitchen, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Onions are fine!” He calls, getting up to join you. The smells from the hotel kitchen are divine, your third meal together today being a midnight snack. Lucifer leans over the counter, looking at where you mix diced onion and tomato in a bowl with ease, humming a light tune. 
You turn towards him, a coy smile on your face as you wink at him, then jostle the bowl you’re stirring.
“What are you doing here?” Lucifer asks, his mouth moving faster than his mind. That’s a rude question to ask. Some Sinners are secretive, some are sensitive. The ones at his daughter’s hotel aren’t… but they’re also a little different. 
“Making salsa from scratch,” you answer nonchalant, reaching past him to grab a spice off the rack, “Tastes better that way. I figured you could magic us up some chips?”
You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he can’t help the way he feels his cheeks heat up. 
He chuckles, his hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before a bowl of chips appears on the other side of the counter. 
“No I uh- I mean here, as in, you know,” he coughs, “Hell.”
You stir in chili flakes with a wooden spoon, but then stop when his words sink in. 
Shit, he thinks, I’ve fucked this up. 
“Well,” you clear your throat, “Thats a secret, Your Majesty.”
You’re toying with him.
“All I’ll say is that I have a good reason for being here.”
You usher him to try the salsa, and he gladly dips one of his chips into the bowl, scooping out a hefty portion. Lucifer lifts it to his lips, and the moment it reaches his tongue he’s reminded of Heaven. Not actual Heaven, not the feelings of hopelessness or frustration. The nostalgia of the joy he had when he was inventing, thousands of years ago. The experience of a product made with love. Maybe instead of an apple he should have tempted humanity with your salsa instead.
He’s a goner. 
You don’t ask him why he’s here, not in Hell, not in the hotel, not still making this date last almost twelve whole hours later. 
“Are you planning on a short stay?” He asks, silently praying for the first time in centuries to not get his hopes up.
“I’m trying to stay safe, at least until I decide,” there’s a secretive smile on your face, alluring and inviting. Lucifer wants to kiss you, wants to drop the first date gentleman act, wants to make a mess on the counter. But he won’t, and only because he doesn’t want to ruin your handiwork, and because he’s hungry. 
“It’s a good thing I can guarantee that while you’re making up your mind!” he reassures you, inching closer until his chest bumps your shoulder. 
You surprise him by leaning over, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. 
“I guess now if as good a time as any to tell you I’m notoriously indecisive then, hmm?”
Lucifer hopes you never make up your mind.
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preciouslandmermaid · 1 month
Text
nothing’s gonna hurt you baby (carmy x f!reader) - bonus post-epilogue chapter
Note:  I randomly wanted to write a wedding, but I don't actually include the ceremony, so this is more like a "pre-wedding/post-wedding" story if we're being honest ! Also it takes place about 2 years after the epilogue :)
Warnings/Tags: 18+ Content! (Explicit Language/Sexual Content).
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(Read on Ao3) /// (Masterpost)    
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Sydney held the wooden spoon toward you and the scent of the honey and ginger glaze tickled your nostrils. Earlier in the afternoon, she rolled the sleeves of her dark green sweater to her elbows and the beaded bracelet (a gift from Richie’s daughter, Eva) slid partway down her wrist.
“Alright, it’s your entree. You get to try it first.”
“I thought that was the chef’s honor?”
“Yeah, well, you’re the bride so…” she trailed off, shrugging. “I think that superimposes chef’s honor.”
You smiled and raised both eyebrows at Syd. She didn’t have to help, especially considering how busy The Bear is nowadays, but she offered and you gratefully accepted. Wedding planning – as it turned out – was a stressful affair. You and Carmy had your location set, but the guest list, wedding registry, and menu were woefully incomplete. You tangled yourselves into knots over the planning, but the goal remained firm in your mind; a celebration with Carmy and your friends mixed with the legality of marriage. You would overcome any hurdles you needed to cross because all of it would be worth it in the end.
Wordlessly, you closed your mouth over the spoon. Your lips puckered and your tongue recoiled to the safety of your back molars.
“Oh, oh shit,” Sydney said emphatically, “you hate it.”
“N-no!” You coughed, swallowing, and grabbing your glass of water. “The acidity is just a little...strong. It needs to be adjusted, that’s all.”
“Fuck,” she said, slapping her palm on the wooden countertop. “Okay – uh – that’s okay. We can – I can totally fix this. No biggie.” When she tasted the glaze, her expression pinched before she stuck out her tongue and gagged. “Yeah, nope.” She released a forced, short laugh. “There’s no saving that one.”
You loved Syd’s earnest, anxious awkwardness. Her blunt nature had been the first foundational stone of your friendship. You liked that she didn’t let Carmy off the hook, regardless of his experience and talent, and their partnership was an integral component to the Bear’s continued success.
“Back to the drawing board,” you said, drumming your fingers on the countertop. “Maybe ginger is too sharp? Do we lean more savory?”
“Interesting idea coming from the baker,” she teased.
“Hey!” You pretended to be offended and infused your tone with as much indignation as you could. “Just because I run a bakery doesn’t mean I have a sweet tooth.”
Syd laughed. “There is literally a bowl of candy by the entryway.”
“It’s for Halloween.” You crossed your arms and said, “There are a ton of families in this building.” In truth, your lack of nicotine intake after quitting smoking had manifested into a ravenous sweet tooth and, the lollipops – although bad for your teeth – were monumentally healthier than cigarettes.
“Dude, Halloween is seven months away.”
“We’re prepared.”
“What for like kids who don’t know how to like tell time and show up a few months early?”
“Obviously.”
She finished scraping the glaze into the trash. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” Her bright smile faded and the light entered her dark eyes. You recognized it as her ‘I have an idea face’ and your mood lifted—the overly sour glaze quickly forgotten. When Carmy said he wanted The Bear to cater your wedding, you had been shocked, and concerned about the additional stress it would add to your lives. However, with Syd in your kitchen, the pan gripped in her hand and her expression rapt with wonder, you realized that you had nothing to worry about. The wedding’s menu and food preparation were in the best hands.
“Do you have any soy sauce?” she asked, “Worcestershire sauce will work too, or liquid aminos if we’re desperate.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Carmy watched as your fingers held aloft over the keyboard and the spreadsheet glared menacingly in a harsh blue-white glow. The guest list had been easy to start. The obvious ones were Syd, Natalie, Peter, Richie and Eva, and your best friend, Taylor. The harder choices were family and how to arrange the tables. Your eyebrows angled in confusion and you drew your hands away.
“I’m not inviting my dad,” you said after a moment’s pause.
Carmy nodded. “Okay.”
His neck prickled uncomfortably. It wasn’t the flushed heat that arrived when he felt embarrassed. No. This discomfort traveled from his neck to his fingers. It raked across his skin like a thousand needles, pricking every nerve, and drawing blood. He thought about going to his coat pocket and withdrawing a crumpled pack of cigarettes. The quick, cold rush of nicotine would ease his headache and calm his nerves. But, if he smoked, then he’d need to walk downstairs and into the blustery sharp gray wind of March. And he didn’t want to bail on you. The puzzle of who to invite and who to sit with whom was a project for the both of you to untangle.
“I dunno if I should…” He cleared his throat and looked away when your eyes met his over the laptop screen. “I dunno.”
“Your mom?” you correctly guessed.
Carmy sniffed, scratched the side of his nose, and nodded. His heart thumped into his ribs. Maybe he should take a walk. Maybe the March air would clear this dreadful feeling from his skull. His stomach hardened into a pit at the idea of his mom coming to his wedding. But, at the same time, his dread and fear congealed into a sharp guilt that curdled his stomach acid. His mom was a force to be reckoned with. A hurricane of a woman. He loved her. He didn’t know if he wanted her at the wedding. He knew she’d be upset if she weren’t invited. But, both of you decided to keep the guest list small. The careful cuts were necessary, and not just due to the frugality aspect, but in terms of everyone’s enjoyment.
“She’d make it about her,” he said, “remember Sophia’s second birthday?”
You placed your hand on the middle of Carmy’s back, right between his tense shoulder blades, and he forced a harsh exhale through his teeth. They almost called the police, Carmy thought with a frown. His mom showed up and seemed fine, and then shortly before cake and presents, she buckled little Sophia into her car and claimed that Natalie hated her and didn’t want Sophia to have a relationship with her grandmother. His niece, at the age when separation anxiety often occurred, cried so much that she threw up on her special birthday dress.
“I do,” you said and your eyes softened.
“I’m a terrible son,” Carmy said, “I’m a fucking asshole. We have to invite her, don’t we? She deserves to be there.”
“Carmy, you’re not.” You rubbed his back. “Do you think I’m an asshole for not inviting my dad?”
He quickly said, “No.” The pit in his stomach gnawed at his smoke-deprived lungs. “It’s different.”
“How so?”
“He has another family.” Carmy stood, raking his hand through his hair. “My mom only has Nat and me.”
“So you have to sacrifice your happiness and comfort for hers?”
“Yes!” he said immediately followed by a quick, “No. I don’t know.” He reached into his coat pocket hanging by the door and fished out the squashed packet of cigarettes.
You trailed after him and wound your arms around him, pressing your face into his back, your hands coming to rest over his heart. Carmy froze. The pressure of your hands on his chest made him realize how fast his heart was beating. He squeezed the cigarette packet and it crinkled beneath his clammy fingers.
“Remind me,” you said, voice faintly muffled by his t-shirt, “what was the possible diagnosis your therapist gave her?”
“Borderline personality disorder.” His therapist also said his mom could have narcissistic personality disorder, but BPD was more likely, based on his descriptions of childhood. It helped to have a name for it. It gave him a better understanding of everything he went through.
“Which defines her behavior but doesn’t excuse it,” you said as you circled around him to face him. “Carmy, I love you.” You cupped his face in your hands. “I will support you if you want to invite Donna and I’ll weather any storms she brings with her. Who knows...maybe it’ll be a good day for her.” Your tone toward the end of your sentence became dubious.
Carmy sighed. “I don’t think I want to invite her, but I feel like I should.” He frowned. “That doesn’t make sense, does it?”
“No, it does. You feel an obligation as her son to share this big moment with her. I get it.”
“Do you feel guilty about not inviting your dad?”
“A little.” Your lips pursed. “But, if I visualize our wedding, the thought of my dad standing beside me doesn’t make me happy. I don’t feel excited about it. I just feel…”
“Dread?” he guessed.
You smiled faintly. “It’s more annoyance and anger for me.”
“Mm, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned his forehead and touched it to yours. How did he get so lucky? He imagined the wedding. He imagined seeing you across from him, sliding the ring on your finger, and stuttering through his vows. The usual nervousness bubbled up inside his chest, but it was smothered by the overwhelming warmth and affection he felt for you that bled across his skin like thick honey.
“I don’t think I can invite her,” he whispered.
“That’s okay, Carm.” You kissed him softly. “That’s okay.” You repeated against his mouth. A sensation of cool and blissful relief extinguished the last lingering remnants of his dread.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Something is weird,” you said, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “Why are there two florist vans? Did we accidentally get two?” You didn’t recognize the name on the second van either. Must be a local shop, you thought, although that doesn’t explain why they’re here.
“I don’t think so,” Carmy said.
As everyone poured out of their cars, their garment bags slung over their arms or over their shoulders, a sharply dressed black woman emerged from the entrance and strode purposefully toward you and Carmy.
“You must be the Berzattos,” she said breathlessly as she shook your hands. “It’s good to meet you. My name is Vivienne and I’m afraid I have bad news.”
“What sort of bad news?” Richie said, “The kind that gets us a discount?” He grinned at Carmy and your husband-to-be rolled his eyes.
“Perhaps.”
Richie whispered, “Oh shit.”
“We’ve had some technical issues with our new scheduling program.” She wrung her hands together. “The venue has been double-booked.”
“Okay,” you said slowly, noticing all the additional staff buzzing to and fro across the manicured lawn.
Vivienne said, “I’m so sorry for the mistake. If you’d like, we can reschedule you.”
Your stomach dropped into your shoes.
“Absolutely not,” you said, “people flew out to be here. We can’t reimburse flights and accommodations, and nor should we have to considering this is your error.” You sighed, feeling a headache press into your temples. “Why didn’t you notify us?”
“How about a discount and you can split the venue?” she offered, “we only realized the mistake when the two catering companies showed up.”
“Well, that’s convenient,” said Richie.
“Fuck,” Syd said.
Natalie crossed her arms. “I’m sorry did they say double-booked?”
“Mommy!” Sophia pulled at Natalie’s pant leg. “Mommy, look! Sunflowers!” She pointed at the floral van carrying out their arrangements.
You shared a glance with Carmy. “Can we have a minute?”
“Of course. Again, we’re so sorry.”
You and Carmy broke away from the group of your closest friends and family. You rubbed your hands down the length of your face.
“We can’t reschedule,” you said, “but how the hell are we going to share the venue? They have one kitchen and we paid for our guests to stay the night.”
“Maybe the timing works out,” Carmy said, taking your hand in his. “You want to stay here?”
“Yes.”
“Then fuck it. We stay.”
“Okay, fuck it.” You smiled. “Let’s negotiate a good discount.”
“Say the word and I’ll send Pete in,” Carmy joked.
You laughed. “God, we might need him.”
The organization was a cluster-fuck. The venue manager, Vivienne, assured and promised that the space was large enough and that the other party – the Carmichael's – were having a noon wedding with a 2 PM reception and everything would be cleaned up for your 4 PM wedding and 5 PM reception. But, you noticed the proverbial cracks in the foundation. The necessary kitchen prep work, the clashing decorations, the intermingling guests, and the underlying stress and confusion permeated every interaction. You practiced intentional breathing and hoped you’d make it through the day without bursting into stress-induced tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The zipper was halfway up when it broke. You felt the snag, then the tug and pull, and the abrupt separation. You pressed your hand to your mouth and muffled the noise of discontent and frustration that threatened to break free.
Taylor pushed her long, thick dark braid over her shoulder and pursed her red lips at you. “We can work with this,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “We can fix it.”
You released a strangled, “can we?” You blinked back your burning tears—you didn’t want to ruin your makeup.
“Yeah, most of these places have emergency sewing kits,” your best friend said while digging through the drawers, “also, this might be a bad time, but is the chef single?”
Despite everything, you laughed. “Which chef?”
“The tall blonde one with the accent.”
“Luca?”
Taylor’s eyes brightened. “Yes!”
“I’ll find out for you,” you said while reaching for your phone. You smiled at the sight of your phone background, a black and white photo of you and Carmy, and Taylor snickered.
“I remember when you told me about him,” she said.
“You do?”
“Yeah, you were all tied into knots about it...and now look at you! Tying the knot.” She winked. “I’m glad you guys figured it out.”
Your chest warmed with pleasure. “Me too.”
“Aha!” She held the little sewing kit aloft. It had the venue's name printed on the front of the bag. “Do you think they write this so nobody steals it?” She asked while tapping the swooping decal.
Before you could answer, your mom bustled into the room, her billowing lilac sleeves trailing after her arms.
“Oh! Look at you!” She grabbed your chin and kissed your cheek. “I’ve got something for you. A little tradition.”
“Mom, I don’t know if I can stomach any more surprises.” Taylor began to fix your zipper and the cold metal teeth periodically kissed your skin.
“You’ll like this surprise.”
Your mom removed a potted plant from her purse. The dark soil clung to her fingertips, the plant likely got knocked around more than once, as she set it down on the vanity. You recognized the wide, verdant leaves.
“A basil plant?”
“Normally, we give a flower of some type, but I chose a basil plant instead.” She smiled, pleased. “Nurture the plant as you nurture your future and it’ll thrive.”
Your throat tightened. “Thanks, Mom.” Your shoulders jerked as Taylor finished zipping and she whooped in triumphant delight.
“There we go, crisis averted,” said Taylor, “now we don’t have to worry about walking down the aisle naked.”
You rubbed your fingertips along the basil leaf and smiled at them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“God,” Richie said, fixing his tie, “I can’t believe you’re getting fucking married, cousin.”
“Yeah, me either.” Carmy scratched the side of his nose.
“I always thought Mikey’d get married before you,” he said, “he was just more charmin’, you know? He had a way with people, women especially, God…” Richie shook his head. “He couldn’t walk down the street without getting some chick’s phone number.”
Carmy stared sullenly at his reflection. “Yeah, well, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t? ‘Cause then he’d have an ex-wife, or a widow, or a kid or somethin, I dunno.”
Carmy wondered if he’d forever be in rooms with Mikey’s shadow stuck to the corners. It didn’t suffocate him as much anymore. Mikey’s memory lurked within every conversation – like slivers of light through the paneled window shades. Today of all days though, Carmy suspected those slivers would blind him. Mikey should’ve been here, could’ve been, and he wasn’t.
“Yeah, good point.” Richie turned the side and smoothed his lapels. “Still, it should be him.”
Carmy’s neck flushed with indignation. Did Richie seriously have to be such an asshole? His brow furrowed. It was his fucking wedding day for fuck’s sake!
“Cousin—” Carmy began.
“Standing here, I mean, as your best man,” said Richie. “Look, there’s no takebacks and this would be a hell of a time to change your mind but it should’ve been Mikey. Not me. I get that, okay? That’s all I’m trying to say…” He fixed his tie again. “And I’m gonna do everything to make sure that this day doesn’t go to shit. I can promise you that, alright?”
Carmy blinked, at a loss for words at Richie’s admission. It had been six years and counting since Mikey’s death and Richie had been with him for every one. If he was being honest with himself and not caught up on nostalgia, if Mikey was here, then Carmy wasn’t sure he would have trusted him with all the responsibility. Hell, Richie organized a pizza-making bachelor party for him. He offered to trash the other couple’s wedding.
“Who else would it be?” he asked softly, “you’re family, Richie.”
Richie sniffed, nodded, and clapped his hand on Carmy’s shoulder, jostling him. When Carmy met his eyes, they were glassy and bright.
“I know.” His lips twitched up into a grin. “Let’s get you fucking married!” He pulled Carmy in a one-armed, half-hug and shook him. “Put a fucking smile on that face, Carm. Come on! Come on!”
He affectionately pinched Carmy’s face in one hand, squishing his mouth, and Carmy shoved Richie away, annoyed, but laughing—in the same way he’d get annoyed and laugh whenever Mikey goofed around with him.
“Fuck off,” said Carmy, without any heat.
“Hey,” Syd poked her head into the doorway, “you ready? The photographer wants to see all of the groomsmen.”
“Shouldn’t you say grooms-people? To be like politically correct or whatever,” Richie asked, “or groomsmen and women considering you’re among us.”
Syd made a face. “Richie shut up and come pose with us.”
“Hey, I’m just trying to be inclusive,” he said loudly.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If someone asked you to recount all the details of your wedding—you didn’t think you could. It was the busiest and most stressful day of your life. You’d always remember the finer details like Carmy’s thoughtful, flustered vows, Richie starting a limbo competition, or Syd’s dad dancing with Taylor—at least for a while until she disappeared with Luca in tow. Good for you, you remembered thinking as you watched her form retreat down the hall.
But the rest of the day was an exuberant blur. It had been long and you were grateful to relax into the lush pillowcases with your short silk gown kissing your skin.
Carmy climbed into bed after showering and peppered kisses along your nose and jaw, his hands finding your hips beneath the covers and holding them.
“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you said with soft laughter before chasing his lips with yours.
“And you’re my wife,” he said, lifting your wrists and placing them over your head, “keep those there.”
You said, “We’ve been married less than twelve hours and you’re already bossing me around?”
Carmy chuckled and his breath puffed over your peaked nipples. His tongue laved over the silk, and moistened it before he drew your nipple between his lips. The soft silk and warmth of Carmy’s tongue was a heady, back-arching mixture.
“Oh, fuck,” you whispered, plunging your hands into his damp curls and scraping your nails over his scalp.
“Yeah?” His calloused palm felt its way down your thigh, “Are you wet for me already?”
“A little,” you admitted as you parted your legs for him.
“God,” he muttered before mouthing along your breasts and wetting the silk with his tongue and lips. He held one of your breasts in his hand and squeezed, pushing the mound into his mouth again and sucking your hard nipple. The sensation turned to liquid, sticky heat between your legs. You moaned, pushing upward into his grasp and gyrating your hips in askance. His hand was frustratingly close to your cunt, but not close enough. He rubbed up and down your inner thigh from knee to apex, letting his knuckles occasionally brush your pussy, before drawing away without adding any pressure. The fucking nerve of him!
“My wife is so fucking hot,” Carmy said, and hearing the words sent a hot, fresh thrill trembling through you.
“And my husband is a fucking tease,” you said, digging your fingertips into his hard, sculpted shoulders.
Carmy pulled his mouth away from your wet breasts. The silk had darkened where his mouth had been and you could faintly see your nipples through the semi-translucent fabric.
“Am I?” He drew his hands away from you and grabbed your wrists again, pinning them above your head, “I thought I said to keep these here.”
You snorted. “When have I ever listened?”
“You’re a great listener,” he said honestly.
“I want to touch you, Carmy,” you said, matching his honesty with your own, even as his praise sang through your ears and warmed your skin.
He softened. “Okay.” He pulled your wedding ring-adorned hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. The moment he released your hand, you slid your fingers down his chest, smiling at the way his eyelashes fluttered and his cheeks darkened. You wiggled your fingers beneath the tight waistband of his boxer shorts and found him hard and pulsing within your grasp.
“Fuck.” He shuddered. “I feel like I could come just by looking at you.”
He jerked his hips into your touch as your fingers encircled him. You craned your neck upward and kissed him, finding the familiar rhythm of tongue and teeth, and moaning wantonly into his mouth when his hand cupped your wet folds. He hissed when his index finger pledged into you and your mind went white-hot and blank.
“Do you think the stress of the day has manifested into being super horny for each other?” You asked, your other hand cupping the back of Carmy’s neck, pinning his face close to yours so you could kiss him. His pretty blue eyes blinked at you.
“Maybe. But, I think I just want to fuck my wife.” His cock twitched in your hand and you grinned.
“It turns you on to call me your wife, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
His admission made your walls clench around his index finger. Maybe you liked it too. Maybe. You felt Carmy smile against your lips. “Can’t wait to be inside you,” he muttered, “filling you, listening to you moan.”
You gasped and your eyes rolled back into your skull. It wasn’t often that Carmy engaged in dirty talk, so when he did, it was a rare and special treat that never failed to drench your core. Carmy ran his tongue along your neck, tasting your sweat before a second finger speared between your folds and coaxed that inner fire.
“Keep this on,” he said, dragging his teeth across the strap of your gown, “when I fuck you.”
“Mm – fuck. Okay,” you groaned.
“Actually, I—” his words were suddenly lost to a moan as you adjusted your grip on his cock, your fingers slicked with pre-cum. “Fuck, baby. I need you on top of me.”
“Gladly.”
Carmy rolled onto his back, yanking his shorts down, and you smiled at the sight of him – as desperate as you were with his chest heaving and his wet curls falling onto his forehead. Your walls clenched in anticipation as you hiked the hem of the dress over your hips. Carmy’s hands settled on your thighs and he watched hungrily as you held the base of his cock and slowly lowered yourself onto him. Your spine convulsed and the sensation of him stretching you and filling you wiped out every lingering thought in your mind.
“God,” his voice was strangled, “you feel so fucking amazing.”
You cupped his face, resting your forehead on his as you rode him, and said, “so do you.”
“I love you so much,” Carmy said reverently, “so goddamn much.”
Your heart threatened to break and regrow the from sheer tenderness of his words. Carmy, you learned over the years, expressed his love with acts of service and he said ‘I love you’ most often while having sex. However, something about this ‘I love you’ was different. It was more intense on your post-wedding night. You buried your face into his sweaty neck, your bodies and hearts joined, your futures intrinsically linked.
“I love you too.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You tilted the watering can over the thriving basil plant and smiled.
“Auntie.” Sophia, freshly eight years old, held something in her hands. “I found a worm.”
You blinked at her. “Put it back?”
“Okay!” She replied cheerily and dropped the worm back into the potted rosemary. She spun when the balcony door slid open. “Hi Uncle Carmy! Do you want to see the worm?” She pointed.
Carmy smiled, first at his niece, and then at you. “Let me see,” he said, crouching. He balanced his wrists on his knees and the sunlight gleamed off his wedding band. Your heart skipped. My husband. You wondered what your grandfather would say if you could tell him that his death led you to your soulmate, a second family, and a range of new friends. Knowing him he’d tell me that he would’ve died sooner if he knew how happy it’d make me. Your grandfather had had a wry sense of humor.
Carmy stood and put his arm around you. “We’re going to need to re-pot the basil if it keeps growing like this,” he said absentmindedly.
You leaned into him and kissed his cheek.
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digitalvision · 4 months
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Wooden Tableware to Elevate Your Meals
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Today, where almost every kitchen product is made from stainless steel and other materials, there's an undeniably special quality in the touch of nature. We are introducing our stunning and handmade premium quality wooden tableware collections tha bringing a unique warmth and charm to your everyday meals. Our wooden products are ready to transform your simple acts of eating and drinking into sensory experiences. If you want to explore finest collection of wooden, concrete, and woolen products, you can check out our website.
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As you pour hot water over your favorite leaves, the wood gently infuses the aroma, creating a sensory symphony. Each sip reveals the natural sweetness of the wood, complementing the delicate flavors of your tea. This isn't just a cup, it's an invitation to slow down and savor the moment.
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Our wooden water glass transforms even the most basic act of hydration into a mindful experience. The cool water against the natural grain creates a gentle sensation, reminding you to savor each sip. It's a celebration of nature's bounty, a reminder to appreciate the beauty in the everyday.
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Our wooden tableware is more than just beautiful objects; it's an invitation to reconnect with nature, to slow down and savor the everyday moments. Each piece is handcrafted with care, infused with the unique character of the wood, and ready to bring a touch of warmth and charm to your table. So go ahead, embrace the natural beauty, and let our wooden tableware transform your meals into moments of mindful joy.
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shankschewtoy · 1 year
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Hello there 👋. If it's ok with you, may I request for ASL brothers + katakuri ? How would they react upon witnessing their fem s/o who just fall from a flight of stairs just casually get up, not saying anything, dust herself off and walk away as if she didn't just fall from a really high place and injuring her head ? Blood obviously dripping down from her forehead like she just got smashed to the head with a bear bottle but her expression stays nonchalant. Idk why when this scene first play in my head I find it funny 💀 you can ignore this if you want to btw ☺️. No pressure 👌
a/n - pls this idea is so funny 😭 I love it- tysm for this anon!!
Warnings ⚠️ - crack, g/n reader, modern au, Katakuri needs therapy
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- The way he literally just stood there, a handful of potato chips in his mouth, mismatching socks, and only having his boxers on as you fell down the stairs
- he stopped chewing, watching you immediately get up as if nothing happened, blood clearly starting to drip down your nose and forehead from impact
- He kept looking back and forth at you who was now watching tv on the couch as if you didn’t just fall down a long flight of WOODEN stairs…?
- He giggled, running up the stairs and fucking jumping off them like a dumbass
- he took your actions as a “skills of falling down the stairs” challenge which he gladly took
- “WHEEEEEE- OOF-“
- ran straight into the wall, putting a dent, making the lamp above him fall on top of him
- “I’m- fine-! Shishi~” *dies*
- he tried to be like you, didn’t work out very well
- lots of ice packs and kisses followed afterwards tho 💜💜
- also yes he’s still only in his underwear and mismatching socks
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- Bold of you to assume you could even fall down the stairs without him being right there to catch you before you fall 🙃
- ok let’s just say he wasn’t payin attention
- You took one wrong step down the stairs, skipping a step as you slid down, flipping forward and slamming your face into the ground rather- harshly
- You could hear boots thudding from the hall, scrambling feet, and in the blink of an eye, Katakuri slid on the wooden floors to find you collapsed on the ground in front of the stairs
- *panic attack starts*
- Literally FREAKING OUT
- You just stood up, wiping your bloody nose and going to the kitchen to grab a bowl of cereal for breakfast
- He stood there, blinking however many times before he walked over to you silently
- “…are you ok?”
- you had the absolute audacity to look at him with the most confused expression as if nothing happened at all
- “What do you mean? Yeah I’m fine why?”
- watch him walk out that door right now
- He put those guard rails on the stairs, and non-slip pads on the wooden steps 😭
- he’s doing everything in his power to make sure you don’t fall down again 🥺
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- I just know this man has an issue with stairs, going up and going down them
- You were wearing socks! It was pretty much setting up for your demise against the stairway
- You slipped, sliding down on your ass before flipping forward, skidding to a stop on your face, your legs comically flying above your head before you stopped
- Ace was standing there in disbelief with a mouthful of cereal, the spoon still in his mouth
- Everything was silent as you got up, brushing your clothes off before grabbing a cup of water as if blood wasn’t clearly dripping down your face
- Ace rushed over to you, dropping the whole bowl of cereal before grabbing your head with his hands worriedly
- “Are you ok?! Y/n YOU JUST FELL DOWN THE STAIRS!”
- “Do I have to get Marco? Probably- right?! Oh shit.”
- his hands lit on fire from worry, lighting your- hair on fire…
- Started screaming, and you were absolutely clueless as to what was happening
- He grabbed the milk carton and started dunking your head in it, slapping the fire on your head before it could burn any of your hair.
- it ended with ace cleaning up at least a gallon of milk, and a trip to Marco’s 👍
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- he’d just be minding his own business, doing some reading as he sipped his cup of tea peacefully
- That was interrupted by you flying down the stairs, hitting your head against the table leg underneath him with a thud
- he swore you’d almost broken the leg in half 💀
- You got up, continuing to hum a tune as you grabbed some breakfast, sitting right next to him as you started scrolling on your phone, blood dripping down your face
- He was scared? Of you? No- for your safety and well-being? How tf did you fall down a whole ass flight of stairs and not start wincing in pain? Was it true? Were you actually a demon?
- you looked over at him to see him staring at you with the most concerned look you had ever seen
- “Morning Sabo!”
- You kissed his cheek, wiping the blood off your bruised face with a paper towel before going back to your phone nonchalantly
- Was he hallucinating? No- you fell down the stairs just now! He wasn’t dreaming or anything!
- He put his hand on your shoulder and took a deep breath, “Y/n… I think we need to see a doctor.”
- man got so serious about it help 💀
- started looking up, “fell down stairs, did not react disease?”
- “high pain tolerance?”
- “can’t feel pain disease”
- “SHOULD I CALL AN EXORCIST?”
- “exorcistdemon.org”
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a/n - pls sabo would think you’re possessed 💀
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pupkashi · 6 months
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pizza time!
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or the one time satoru tries to make pizza from scratch and is effectively banned from trying ever again
a/n: hi friends !! enjoy this little one shot inspired by somewhat of a true story, sort of meshed two things that happened to me together LOL hope u guys enjoy !! :3
wordcount: 1,470
masterlist
“‘toru? you home?” you ask, placing your keys on the keyholder and slipping your shoes off, sighing in relief as you walk further into your shared home. you can hear soft music coming from the kitchen as you step closer, smiling when it finally comes into view.
“well hello handsome,” you whisper, making him smile and turn around, flour on the tip of his nose. you wipe it off gently, kissing his nose right after you do.
“hey pretty,” he grins, catching your lips in his, dimples on full display from the second he saw you, “how was your day?” he asks, listening intently to your every word.
“what are you trying to make by the way?” you ask, brows furrowed as you see the packs of yeast and flour on the kitchen counter.
“pizza dough! i was thinking we can make it from scratch, have a little pizza date tonight?” the excitement in his voice is enough to make you perk up, grinning at the idea.
“that sounds amazing angel boy,” you smile, “let me change out of this and we can start, yeah?” satoru nods excitedly, continuing to set out the ingredients you two would need.
when you come back to the kitchen there’s three bowls full of cloudy water and no pizza dough in sight. instead there’s a defeated white haired man sitting on the floor, hunched over replaying a YouTube video.
“‘toru?” you ask, stifling your laughter as you walk into the kitchen. he looks up at you, blue eyes sparkling at you, a pout evident on his lips.
“it won’t bubble! i added in warm water and sugar and it’s not working,” he huffs, standing up and handing you the packet, “look they don’t even give directions!” he groans.
you inspect the packet closely, biting your lip to hold back a smile. “satoru this is active yeast, you know that right?”
“those words mean nothing to me, sweetheart.”
“you don’t have to add water to this, you just add this into whatever you’re making,” you state, watching as his frustration faded into one of astonishment and soon into a blushing mess.
“they should really put that on the packets,” he mumbles, throwing out the bowls of ruined yeast and changing the video on his phone to a different one.
“okay let me see how much flour we have to add” he mumbles, looking at the back of the bag before grabbing the scale. he’s cautious at first, adding bit by bit before losing patience. the scale goes from 30g of flour to 300g in a couple seconds.
“satoru!” you gasp, laughing as you attempt to put some of the flour back into the bag, satoru giggling as he adds the water into the flour.
“watch and learn angel boy,” you grin, grabbing the bag and pouring the flour in, stopping after a couple seconds, the scale reading an even 250g. there’s a smug grin on your face and satour wants nothing than to kiss it off your face.
he rolls his eyes, “yeah, yeah whatever,” he mumbles, adding the rest of the things he needed into the mixture before mixing with with a wooden spoon, following the exact movements on the lady in the video he was watching.
the soft music filled the comfortable silence between the two of you, only occasional comments or jokes being the conversation between the two of you as you covered the dough, setting an timer for two hours to let it rise.
the two of you plop on the couch, giggling when satoru pulls you into his lap with ease, kissing your shoulder before resting his chin.
“god i missed you,” he mumbles, voice a bit muffled by your shirt.
“i was only gone for a couple hours,” you smile, wiggling so you could face your boyfriend without hurting your neck too much. there’s a pout on his lips and you can faintly see his dimples.
“still too long,” he frowns, “wanna spend every moment of my life with you.” there’s no point in hiding the huge smile on your face as you raise your brows at him.
“do you now?” you giggle, he only smiles widely back, dimples on full display now, peppering kisses over your face as he hums in agreement.
“can’t imagine a life without you baby,” his tone is soft and comforting, you can’t help but melt at his words, kissing him softly.
you both smile into the kiss, giggles filling the room as he tells you of his day.
the two hours seem to fly by, your timer going off before the two of you knew it, heading to the the kitchen and rolling out the dough. you both mold the dough into hearts satoru arranging his pepperonis into a smiley face, grinning proudly as he showed off his creation.
you can’t suppress the yawn that escapes your lips, blinking away tears as you try and wake yourself up, willing yourself to at least finish off the toppings before you take a nap.
“go take a nap sweets, i can handle two measly pizzas” satoru smiles, “the ovens already preheated too!” you’re hesitant, satoru is quick to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, already heading towards the bedroom and paying you down.
“you do know which trays to use right?” you ask, worry etched on your face as he rolls his eyes. “yes sweetheart i know the ones.”
you’re about to open your mouth again when he’s placing a kiss to your lips, pulling the blanket over you and walking out, “have a good nap pretty!”
it takes a mere three minutes for you to knock out, deep in your sleep when you swear you smell something burning.
you try to ignore it, chalking it up to your paranoia. but the smell seems to get more intense as you stir awake.
you’re eyes are still a bit hazy when you sit up, rubbing the sleep out of them as you open the bedroom door, the smell hitting you full force.
“oh my god what happened?” you shriek, walking quickly to the windows and opening them full, trying your best to clear the living room out of the smoke.
“i may or may not have forgotten about the pizzas” satoru smiled at you nervously, the two burnt pizzas sitting sadly on the kitchen counter. no tray in sight.
“where’s the tray?” you asked, satoru’s eyes widened, face flushed as he chuckled.
“you look so beautiful today, did i tell you that?” he smiles. you only cross your arms over your chest, making him frown a bit as he points at the oven.
the tray he grabbed was not the metal one he thought it was.
the plastic was melted, the only parts not completely destroyed was the two areas where the pizzas had been. you couldn’t help but laugh a bit, your hand flying over your mouth in shock.
“i leave you alone in the kitchen for not even 30 minutes!” you laugh, shocked at the amount of tragedy that had taken place in your absence.
satoru can only smile sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck, his black t shirt practically white with the amount of flour on it. you’re nodding your head, laughing as you rest your head on his chest.
“what am i gonna do with you, angel boy,” you smile, the two of you walking over the couch, sitting down in silence.
“we could always order in?” satoru suggests, grinning when you burst out laughing again.
twenty minutes later there’s a knock on your door, two boxes with perfectly cooked pizzas in them.
“next time ill definitely check them more often,” satoru mumbles, the words make you turn and face him slowly. you state state at each other, blinking slowly before you speak up.
“you’re banned from pizza making in this home,” you state, satoru’s mouth falls open, gasping at your words.
“it wasn’t even that bad!” he defends, watching you got up from your seat, grabbed one of the pizzas and knocked it against the counter.
“this pizza is harder than fucking diamond im pretty sure!” you laugh incredulously, “i genuinely think the pepperonis disintegrated in the oven.”
satoru pouts, “everyone makes mistakes, some worse than others.” he can’t help but smile, knowing there was no way he’d ever even try to make pizza again, not on his own at least.
“no yeah those are fucking terrible” he laughs, getting up and grabbing what was supposed to be his pizza. “oh my god you’re right!” his eyes wide as he realizes he can’t find any of his pepperonis.
satoru only tried to make pizza once after that, only to realize he liked Pizza Hut so much better, effectively giving up on his pizza making endeavors for good.
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cegantheayugipi · 1 year
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The Last Padisarah Pudding, Part 3
An Alhaitham Enemies to Lovers Smut Oneshot
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Summary: You never realized an innocent date with your best friend would set off your rival like this... He never seemed like the jealous type -- until he cornered you in the kitchen, demanding to know the nature of your friendship...
Word Count: 9.4k
Part 1
Part 2 (smut)
MINORS DNI!!! BIG SMUT BELOW THE CUT!!
Tags include: Hate sex, competitive sex, aggressive sex, hair pulling, choking, biting, orgasm denial, power dynamics, spanking, I'm so sorry I'm forgetting more but the list is just too long
You dipped your spoon into the bowl of unusually colored Padisarah Pudding in front of you, taking a bite of your favorite desert and smiling from the familiar flavors.
“Your cooking is delicious as always, Nilou!” You spoke to the redhead seated across the table. The two of you were sitting at one of the small wooden picnic tables inside the Grand Bazaar, not far from the Zubayr Theater where Nilou worked.
The dancer merely laughed, “I’m just glad we have time to enjoy it together. It’s been a while since we’ve last met.”
“That’s true, it really has been a while.” You nodded, realizing you had been incredibly busy since you graduated… At least, until the chemical “incident” that had led to your house being deemed temporarily uninhabitable by Amurta Scholars. Now that your schedule was relatively clear, you had time to hang out with your friend – your best friend, in fact. You and Nilou had known each other since you were little. Once upon a time, you wanted to be a dancer like her too… but your thirst for knowledge eventually outweighed your love for dance, and you ended up choosing the other side of Sumerian society – the one that sadly disapproved of your favorite hobby.
Despite the cultural rift that separated your young adult years from Nilou’s, you still made a consistent effort to spend time with her. During your years at the Akademiya, you enjoyed coming down to the Bazaar and dancing at the theater with your best friend. It was a wonderful way to de-stress.
“Hmm…” you trailed off as you reminisced.
“Are you lost in thought again, Y/N?” Nilou asked, resting her chin on both hands as she smiled at you.
“Ah, yeah, I was just thinking about the times we used to dance together.” You responded, your tone carrying a hint of nostalgia.
“Well, the stage is available for the next couple of hours, and I have a spare outfit you can use. Why not try a dance after we’re done with the pudding?”
“That actually sounds like a wonderful idea…” You grinned. “But speaking of pudding, do you have any extras I can take with me? After all, you invented the red Padisarah Pudding, and it doesn’t quite taste the same when I try to recreate it at home.”
“Of course! Whenever we meet, I always make sure to bring extras of your favorite dessert.” Nilou nodded.
When the two of you were finished with your desserts, you stood up from the table and dusted off your clothes.
“Actually, some dancing is exactly what I need. I should really make an effort to exercise if I keep eating so much pudding, otherwise it’ll just go to my waistline.” You joked, laughing.
“Oh, shut it! You’ve always had a beautiful figure. Don’t worry about things like that.” Nilou shook her head as she stood up with you, reaching out to give you a hug. “You’re beautiful, Y/N.”
You blushed at Nilou’s overt compliment. “You’re too sweet, Nilou.”
The redhead withdrew from the hug, reaching up one hand to caress your cheek.
“It’s only true.” She smiled, “Now, let’s get going.”
The redhead outstretched a hand to you, and you took it as a smile broke across your face. The two of you began to walk towards Zubayr Theater together.
Meanwhile, standing beside a vendor selling textiles, a blonde head of hair tracked the two of you as you walked away holding hands.
“Sir, did you still want the broadcloth?” The vendor asked, wondering why the blonde seemed so distracted.
“Uhm, yes.” Kaveh responded, shaking his head. “I’ll take swatches in all the colors you have.”
He was still very distracted, having been thoroughly confused by what he just witnessed. Nilou and you had just hugged, then she touched your face, then the two of you walked away holding hands… Kaveh’s eyes widened as he had a brutal realization.
‘Is she… in a relationship?’
~~~
Kaveh slammed the front door to Alhaitham’s house shut behind himself, kicking off his shoes in the entryway before stalking over to the living room table and tossing down the fabric swatches he had just bought. He ran a hand through his hair, brushing back his messy blonde bangs.
“Always making a grand entrance whenever you come home.” Alhaitham sighed, flipping to the next page of the book he was reading.
“Wh-” Kaveh spun around as he realized Alhaitham had been sitting on one of the couches this entire time, his nose buried in yet another book. “And you’re always secluding yourself away like a lone wolf, preferring to spend your time reading rather than talking to anyone.”
“Is there a problem with that?” Alhaitham responded, his eyes still locked onto the page as his gaze scanned across the lines of small letters.
“Maybe if you got up and talked to people for once, you’d find out more about Y/N too.” Kaveh sighed.
“What about her?” Alhaitham shrugged. “I spoke to her just this morning. Still stubborn and indignant, as she has been for the past week she has stayed here.”
“Did you ever stop to think it could be because we fucked her while she’s in a relationship?” Kaveh spat bluntly, his voice wavering from the intense anger and panic he felt about this situation.
Alhaitham looked up from his book. This surprised Kaveh – he had never seen Alhaitham so readily stop reading like that. The scribe gave him a perplexing look… confusion, mixed with… panic?
“What?” Alhaitham muttered.
“I saw her on a date. With that dancer at the Zubayr theater. On a date, Alhaitham!” Kaveh exclaimed.
“With who? Nilou?”
“The redhead who’s always famous for her dancing, Alhaitham.” Kaveh’s description confirmed Alhaitham’s suspicion.
“There’s no way. She never gave me any hint that she was-” Alhaitham cut himself off, his eyes moving from side to side as he thought. “Where did you see them?”
“The Grand Bazaar.” Kaveh responded flatly.
Alhaitham closed his book with one hand, the cover snapping shut with force. He abruptly stood up from the couch, tossing the book onto the living room table before walking directly towards the front door.
“Who’s being dramatic now?” Kaveh scoffed, but Alhaitham was too busy running through all of his memories looking for any hint of an answer to the question.
Were you already in a relationship?
~~~
“Wow, Nilou, this outfit is gorgeous! It looks just like yours, except the color is different.” You smiled, twirling in the mirror.
“I thought it’d suit you! That’s why I kept it around even though it doesn’t quite fit right anymore.” Nilou responded, fixing the headdress and her bangs in a vanity on the other side of the dressing room. She looked up for a second, only to see something peculiar on the back of your neck.
“Y/N, are you bruised?” Nilou questioned, getting up from her seat at the vanity and walking towards you.
“A-ah,” You blushed, your hand immediately going up to the dark purple mark that stood out now that your hair was out of the way. “Well, about that…”
Nilou let out a gasp.
“Did my dearest innocent Y/N finally get intimate with someone?”
“U-uhm, yeah…”
“And you didn’t tell me about it earlier?” Nilou questioned, far more excited than offended you had withheld this information from her. She hugged you from behind, snaking her arms around your waist. “Who was it with? Is it someone I know?”
You suddenly felt extremely shy.
“It was two people…” Your voice fell to a soft murmur.
Nilou let out another gasp, her eyes going wide.
“And one of them was Alhaitham.”
“The CLASSMATE YOU HATED?!” Nilou practically screamed. “I remember when all you would do when we hung out was rant about how much you hated him! Oh, to think how the tides have turned! I’m so happy for you!” Nilou swayed on her feet. 
“I still hate him.” You grumbled. “Smug bastard.”
“Huh? You still hate him, even though you…” Nilou trailed off, tilting her head to the side with confusion.
“Forget about it, let’s just dance!” You changed the subject, twirling on your feet and watching the fabric flare around your body.
“Alright, alright, let’s go!” Nilou nodded, understanding it was something you’d rather not talk about.
~~~
Alhaitham pushed his way through the crowds at the Grand Bazaar. He hated the busy underground market, and never came here unless he absolutely had to.
And after hearing what Kaveh had said, he really had to.
The crowd of people grew thicker and thicker as he made his way towards the center of the Bazaar, where Zubayr Theater stood. Alhaitham wondered why there would be so many people standing in place, but that was until he looked at the main stage and promptly froze in shock.
There you twirled elegantly, almost professionally, stepping in time alongside Nilou. Alhaitham couldn’t even get started on what you were wearing. He had never seen you in clothing like this, something that hugged your figure and suited you so perfectly. The fabric swayed with the tantalizing way you moved. 
Alhaitham found himself enthralled by your dance. He normally never enjoyed things like this, preferring something far more interesting like a new book. Perhaps it was because it was incredibly rare to see you so at peace, so truly happy out on the stage.
For a moment, Alhaitham doubted everything he had ever known about you. If he hadn’t spent six years at the Akademiya and his early professional career butting heads with you, he would have assumed you had only ever been a dancer.
And the way you moved in sync with Nilou…
A hand trailed over your bare stomach, Nilou’s arms moving gracefully and delicately over your body as the two of you danced. After another spin, you did the same to Nilou, and Alhaitham seethed inwardly as he saw a smile grow across the redhead’s face.
Alhaitham realized Kaveh was exactly right to say what he said. The way you moved in perfect sync with the Nilou, your bodies coming within inches of each other during certain moves, it made the dance seem almost intimate.
You and Nilou finished the dance with a twirl, coming to a rest side-by-side, one arm wrapped around each other’s waist while the other waved at the huge crowd that had gathered around the stage.
The sea of people roared, cheering and clapping for the two dancers. Alhaitham saw you let out a laugh that he couldn’t hear since the crowd was far too loud. You turned to Nilou with a flushed face and spoke something, and she nodded in response. The two of you began to walk to different parts of the stage; it seemed like you were beginning another dance.
Suddenly, Alhaitham couldn’t bear to watch anymore – he turned around and stormed away, his head now filled with far too many thoughts that he didn’t want to think.
~~~
You hummed to yourself as you walked into Alhaitham’s kitchen, carefully putting away the Padisarah Pudding that Nilou had sent home with you. It was hard not to eat it all immediately – Nilou’s specialty was your favorite food, and you truly believed you’d never get sick of eating it.
First, however, you really wanted a bath. It had been a long day for you, and you were looking forward to a luxurious soak in the guest bedroom’s ensuite bath. After all, you only had two days left before Amurta scholars would perform their inspection of your old apartment to deem it habitable once again, so you felt the need to make the most of Alhaitham’s luxurious house.
You turned around to leave the kitchen when a hand came out of nowhere, landing on the cabinet beside your head with a loud bang.
You nearly jumped at the noise – looking up, you realized it came from a glowering Alhaitham.
“What are you wearing?” Alhaitham stared down at you.
“It’s a dancing outfit, why are you even asking?” You grumbled. “Have you never seen one before?”
‘Not one on you.’
Alhaitham held back his words, despite wanting so badly to say that you shouldn’t be allowed to wear something so… provocative in public. So, instead, Alhaitham decided to cut to the chase.
“What are you and Nilou to each other?” Alhaitham questioned, narrowing his eyes.
You blinked.
Well, Alhaitham was certainly getting straight to the point.
“Excuse me…?” You muttered, baffled. What on earth was he talking about?
“It’s a simple question.” Alhaitham leaned closer to you, his eyes scrutinizing the look on your face. “I saw the two of you dancing at the Grand Bazaar. What is Nilou to you?”
You scoffed as you realized what he was concerned about.
“What are you, jealous?” You smirked. ”I thought you hated the Grand Bazaar. Why were you even there?”
“Just answer my question.” Alhaitham narrowed his eyes at you, his expression growing more and more frustrated.
“Hah.” Alhaitham’s insistence confirmed it. “I’m not surprised you’re jealous of Nilou, you’re just a feeble scholar after all.”
Alhaitham seethed inwardly as he leaned in closer to your face, his eyes narrowing.
“It’s a simple question.” He spoke. All he wanted was an answer from you, so he would have to ignore your childish teasing until he got one.
“She’s my best friend, you ASSHAT!” Your voice rose into a shout.
“Then why have I never seen you two together before?” Alhaitham questioned.
“You would have if you ever bothered to visit the Bazaar.” You scoffed. “But you’re too busy acting like Academics are superior to anything else in Sumeru, with your stupid superiority complex that makes you feel like you have to run laps around your own professors to have any sense of achievement.”
“As if you aren’t the same.”
“That’s because I’m NOT!” You spat, your lips forming a bitter frown. “I used to be a dancer before I joined the Akademiya… but you’d never understand that side of Sumerian Culture.”
“Dancing is a pointless waste of time. You were far better off in the Akademiya.” Alhaitham spoke sharply.
Your eyes went wide.
“Fuck you, Alhaitham.”
The scribe didn’t realize how hurtful his words truly were to you… he was simply glad you chose to become a scholar because otherwise, he would have never met you in the first place.
“So you and Nilou really are nothing more than friends?” Alhaitham pressed further, only deepening your wound.
“Is that all you fucking care about? Asshole.” You averted your gaze from the scribe that towered over you, slipping out from where he had nearly sandwiched you against the wall.
You were done with the conversation. You were going back to the guest bedroom to take a bath like you had been planning to do after a long day in the city. 
“Wait,” Alhaitham followed after you, completely disregarding the way you made it very obvious that you no longer wanted to speak to him.
“You really never know when to stop.” You scoffed, spinning around and stalking towards him until you were face-to-face again. “Why do you feel the need to hear that Nilou and I were only ever friends? Are you really that jealous?”
“I want to make sure I didn’t force you to cheat.” Alhaitham spoke flatly, his tone unusually bland as he was finally forced to voice the worry that had been plaguing him for the whole day.
“Oooooh you SELFISH BASTARD!” You roared. “Do you really think you made me do all of that with you and Kaveh? I can make choices too! I’m not some child or some idiot you can just manipulate to feed your selfish desires, no matter how much you wish that was the case!”
As you shouted, you placed a palm flat on Alhaitham’s chest, pushing him backwards until his back collided with the wall beside a doorway.
Alhaitham was speechless at your sudden shove, having never seen you act in such a way. This time, he had his back against the wall, and you were leaning far too close to him. He could see the rage in your eyes, the indignation his questioning had caused you…
Your hands suddenly reached up, raking through his hair before pulling his head down to crash your lips into his. Alhaitham’s arms moved on impulse, slipping around your waist and pulling your body closer to his.
The kiss was aggressive, hungry, your teeth tearing at his lips. Alhaitham’s hands began to travel down your waist, his hands roaming over your body and savoring its supple curves. 
Your hands dropped from his head and pushed against his shoulders as you broke from the kiss, leaning away from him. There was still a fire in your eyes despite your swollen cheeks and flushed face.
Alhaitham was stunned as one of your hands flew up to strike him across his face.
“Fuck you.” You spat, and despite the harsh hit he had just received, Alhaitham immediately began to smirk.
“Only if you insist.”
You let out a guttural moan that could be described as something close to a growl… Your hand reached up to grab the collar of Alhaitham’s shirt, pulling him forwards so your lips could collide again.
This time, your hand snaked down the front of his torso, going for the growing bulge in his pants. You smirked as you palmed it, eliciting a groan from the Scholar.
“Only a little kissing, and you’re already this hard?” You sneered.
With something halfway between a scoff and a laugh, Alhaitham’s hands slid under the curve of your ass to grip your upper thighs.
“Jump.” He ordered, his voice cold.
You were about to argue back at him, but Alhaitham didn’t seem to care whether you jumped or not – with strength alone he lifted you off your feet, bringing your legs up to hook around his torso and give himself better access to you.
The scribe spun around to put your back against the wall this time, rolling his hips and pressing his stiff length against the clothing that hid your drooling pussy. A breathy gasp escaped your lips, and Alhaitham broke the kiss to lean back and stare into your half-lidded eyes.
“Who’s the one getting turned on now?” He smirked.
“Bastard-” You grumbled, but Alhaitham quickly cut you off by smothering your mouth with his. It felt like you were fighting against his lips, the way they seemed to devour you. His hips continued to roll, spreading pleasure like a wildfire through your body as his erection pressed near-painfully into you. You wrapped your legs around his torso tighter, your thighs squeezing his waist as he held you against the wall.
“Mmmh!” You moaned into the kiss, your eyes squeezing shut as Alhaitham ground into you again. Alhaitham used your temporary weakness to rudely invade your mouth with his tongue.
You tried your best to withhold the moan that threatened to escape as Alhaitham’s tongue swirled around yours. It felt so good – but that fact alone made you angry.
You groaned, deciding to bite down on Alhaitham’s tongue. However, he seemed to sense this coming as he withdrew from the kiss, a string of saliva hanging between the two of you.
“Hah.” You scoffed. “Are you getting off to the fact that Kaveh is home and could walk in at any moment?”
“You’re assuming that I care.” Alhaitham responded with a smirk, dipping his head down to latch his lips onto the tender skin of your neck.
“Disgusting bas- haaah-” You groaned as he bit down and sucked at your sensitive skin, the pain only adding to the growing pool of wetness in your pants. Alhaitham moved to a different spot, continuing to litter your skin with marks. As he attacked your neck with his mouth, the pain became sharper and sharper. You realized he was breaking your skin with his teeth as you let out an airy moan.
Your hands went up to the back of his head, grabbing onto his hair in order to stop him from ruining your skin any more. It took a lot of strength, but you managed to pull him away from you. Alhaitham seemed to let out a low growl as you interrupted him. 
“Stop it! Do you even care that you’re gonna leave marks?” You shouted, pulling on his hair even harder – to the point where you were beginning to pull out his hair.
“Stop pulling on me.” Alhaitham grumbled.
“No, fuck you!” You squirmed, grinding your crotch down on Alhaitham, making him grunt from the sudden stimulation.
“Let go.” Alhaitham ordered, his eyes squinting from the pain you were causing him by pulling at his hair. One of his hands shifted from under your thighs to wrap around your neck, giving the slender column of your airway a warning squeeze as he rolled his hips into you again.
With a groan, you finally let go of Alhaitham’s hair… leaving strands of gray in your hands.
You didn’t care as you tipped your head forward to mash your lips into his. You grunted, turning your head to attack at a different angle. You bit at Alhaitham’s lips, growing more and more aggressive after everything Alhaitham had done to you.
The scribe stepped away from the wall, both hands planted firmly on your ass as he began to carry you. He walked through the doorway beside the two of you, neither of you breaking the passionate kiss as you moved. As Alhaitham walked into the room, he threw his cloak onto the floor – he wouldn’t be needing it, anyway.
Alhaitham came to a stop. He suddenly pulled his head back, throwing you down. You let out a yelp as you fell backward. For a split-second you truly believed you were being thrown onto the floor. However, as extremely soft blankets stopped your fall, you realized Alhaitham had thrown you down on a bed – his bed.
“Fuck you, Alhaitham!” You reached up to smooth your hair back. Only then did you realize your hands were covered with silver strands of Alhaitham’s hair, and the scribe stared at this with ire.
“Were you trying to make me go bald?” Alhaitham questioned angrily, reaching one hand up to feel the back of his head.
“Yeah, your hair is ugly.” You joked.
Alhaitham narrowed his eyes.
“Well, you’d look far better without those clothes.” Alhaitham immediately responded.
“Hah. Did you just compliment me?”
Alhaitham replied by hooking his slender fingers around the waistband of your skirt. He gave a harsh tug, reducing the beautiful fabric of Nilou’s skirt to shreds.
“HEY!” Your voice rose into a shout. “These clothes are borrowed!”
“You ripped out my hair, so it’s only fair that I get to return the favor.” Alhaitham sneered. He reached one hand down to your underwear, pausing as he felt your soaked underwear. Pressing two fingers into the wet fabric, he forced a moan from your lips.
“Ngh, asshole!”
“Hah.” Alhaitham smirked. “You’re so wet it’s almost pitiful. Do these kinds of discussions turn you on this much?”
“I wouldn’t call them discussions. And you’re one to talk when your dick is trying to escape your pants.”
You reached down and gripped Alhaitham’s shaft tightly, your fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.
“Hah.” Alhaitham grunted as he tried to ignore the pleasure shooting up his stomach. He hooked his fingers around the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head, discarding the piece of clothing on the floor behind him. He climbed onto the bed on top of you, planting his hands on the mattress beside both of your shoulders and caging you between his arms.
Alhaitham dipped his head down for a passionate and aggressive kiss. Your teeth knocked together, tearing at each others’ lips, vying for dominance. The scribe reached down and roughly grabbed the wrist of your hand that was on his crotch, bringing your arm up beside your head and pinning it in place. He ground into you again, this time with very little clothing between the two of you.
You moaned, but you weren’t going to break the kiss – and neither was he.
It was a competition now.
You squirmed in response, pushing your hips up to roughly counter his action. It elicited a grunt from him, but he still didn’t break the kiss. You bit down on his lips hard – hard enough to taste the metallic blood that you had drawn.
Alhaitham grunted at the pain, and you felt his dick twitch against your inner thigh. You smirked into the kiss as he silently cursed you. 
As retribution, Alhaitham’s free hand roamed down your torso. His fingers trailed over your bare stomach, hooking around the waistband of your panties, ripping them clean from your body with a single pull.
“Mmmh!” Your exclamation was muffled by Alhaitham’s lips. The sudden sensation of cool air directly on your wet heat made you press your thighs together, but they were stopped by Alhaitham’s hips which were still hovering right in front of your aching pussy. You wanted nothing more than to fall fully into this incredible sensation, 
The scribe quickly freed his aching cock without you noticing – at least, not until he pressed his leaking tip against your entrance.
You froze for a moment, the sudden friction of bare skin against bare skin sending pleasure shooting through your body.
“Hahh.” Alhaitham finally broke the kiss, but you were too turned on to feel any sense of victory.
The scribe looked down at you, reveling in your pleasure-ridden expression and the way you squirmed beneath him.
“I wish you could see yourself right now.” He smirked, making you seethe with anger.
“Why you- haah!” Your eyes rolled back in your head as Alhaitham pressed himself into you, stretching you with his ridiculous girth. “Stop it- Fuck!”
You tried to kick your legs out to push him away. Alhaitham pulled his hips back slightly, seeming like he was complying with you, but only pushed forwards again moments later. Your mouth fell open as you felt his tip rub against your sensitive walls, and Alhaitham reveled in the way you fell apart beneath him.
“Ahn- haaah~ Fuck yo-” You went completely silent as he bottomed out inside of you, your face contorting with pleasure.
“When will you learn,” Alhaitham spoke as he slowly withdrew from you, “That you can’t win,” Alhaitham thrust his hips forwards, “against me.” He came to a stop, fully sheathed inside of you again.
“Aahhhnn~” Your back arched as you felt him invade your painfully sensitive pussy once more. Your legs twitched, and for a moment you couldn’t control your body anymore.
The pleasure made you forget all the anger you had harbored towards him; it was pitiful how easily you came undone. Alhaitham began to roll his hips, the slow prodding against your tender walls making you lose your sense of self.
His movements grew faster and larger; a squelching noise began to fill the room as he pushed in and out of you.
“Aaah stop it you bas- nngh!” Your words quickly became garbled from the pleasure Alhaitham was giving you. He rolled his hips into you harder, pressing himself against the plush of your ass, the tip of his swollen cock reaching even further inside of you.
“Why couldn’t you have been this easy in the Akademiya?” Alhaitham’s condescending tone grated against your ears, making your eyes go wide with shock. You snapped out of your pleasure-filled haze, suddenly enraged once again.
“How DARE YOU!” Your hands shot up to his chest, pushing against the scribe. Your irascibility only made Alhaihtam more smug, and it infuriated you. Gritting your teeth, you tried your hardest to push Alhaitham off of you – he was just too heavy, and your legs were just too weak with him still fucking into you.
So, instead, you reached your hands down and pinched one nipple – hard.
“Haah- fuck!” Alhaitham groaned, his hips stuttering, overwhelmed by the sudden jolt of pleasure you gave him.
“Oh?” You murmured, pinching harder. A fierce blush grew across Alhaitham’s face.
“S-stop that.” He grunted, his movements coming to a standstill.
“Oh, so now we’re allowed to say stop?” You retorted.
Twisting your body, you used all of your core and leg strength to flip Alhaitham over. He groaned as you forced him to pull out of you, kicking his hips over and forcing him to roll onto his side on the mattress.
You practically pounced onto him, straddling his waist as you bent down and latched your lips around one of his nipples. You pinched the other with one hand, rolling it between your thumb and forefinger. Alhaitham squeezed his eyes shut and groaned, making you laugh while you swirled your tongue around one nipple.
“Look at you, power tripping over the smallest of advantages- haah!”
You bit down on his nipple, eliciting a pained gasp from the scribe. Alhaitham hated the fact that he enjoyed this – reaching up, he grabbed you by your hair and yanked your face away from his sensitive chest.
“Advantage?” You scoffed, your neck straining against Alhaitham’s grip. “I’m pretty sure you’re enjoying this.”
“I have to admit, after all our -hnng- years at the Akademiya, you’re just as -fuck!- insufferable as ever.” Alhaitham groaned, tilting his head back and letting go of your hair as you ground down on his painfully hard dick.
“You’re one to talk.” You spoke. “You were the worst classmate I’ve ever had.” Your voice dripped with spite as you rolled your hips again, drawing another groan from Alhaitham.
“How could I be the worst classmate when I was always the best in the class?” Alhaitham retorted, pushing his hips up into you, grinding his length against your swollen folds.
“I could give you a comprehensive list.” You quickly responded, twisting his nipple – hard. You leaned down, biting and sucking at the soft skin of his chest. You wanted to leave marks bad enough to be seen through his ridiculous sheer skin-tight shirt.
“H-gah-ahh-” Alhaitham’s movements stuttered, far too sensitive to be treated this way. “Fuck, Y/N, what are you -hah- doing to me…”
“Payback.” You lifted your head up from his chest to respond as you shifted your hips. Lining your entrance up with the head of his aching cock, you pushed yourself down and forced him inside you.
“Archons- oh fuck-” Alhaitham groaned as he felt himself penetrate you. You knew he was anything but a pious man, so to hear him call out to the Gods reassured you that you were doing something right. Alhaitham began to erratically move his hips as he tried to get any motion he could, only to cry out at a completely new sensation.
Your hand reached behind yourself to snake down between Alhaitham’s legs. Your slender fingers wrapped around his swollen balls, squeezing them hard enough to teeter on the boundary between pleasure and pain.
“Don’t even think about trying to take over.” You snapped, grinding your hips down as you dug your nails into his ever-so-sensitive skin.
“Fuck- Y/N, s-stop!” Alhaitham’s hands flew down to your hips. He held onto your plush skin with an iron grip, trying his best to hold you still, though you could feel his hands slightly trembling as he held you.
“Make me.” You sneered, squeezing his balls tighter.
With something halfway between a growl and a groan, Alhaitham bucked his hips hard. He threw you off of him and made you land on your back on the soft mattress. Before you had time to react he pinned you down, using one arm to hold both of your hands above your head and the other to hold one of your legs.
He pushed your knee against your chest as you squirmed, hating the way he so easily restrained you. However, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by the helpless feeling you had as he forced his cock into you once again.
You let out a pitiful moan as Alhaitham pounded into you, this time too angry, fed up, turned on to give you the mercy of holding back. The slapping sounds grew louder and louder as your aching pussy drooled from the penetration, sweat building on your skin from the vigorous sex.
“Why can’t you just shut that pretty mouth of yours,” Alhaitham grunted, thrusting into you, “and let me make you feel good?”
“Fucking bastard-” You groaned, his smug words infuriating you.
“Or is it that you prefer pain?” Alhaitham began to pick up his pace – his hips rammed into the plush of your ass harder and harder, until it became painful. Alhaitham’s abdomen strained as he forced himself into you over and over again, his cock splitting your walls apart as the thrusting of his hips made your entire body jolt in the bed.
“Ah! Ow- Fuck- fuck- it hurts, you asshole, it HURTS!” You cried, knowing your ass would certainly be bruised after this.
“I don’t think you deserve to complain after the stunt you just pulled.” Alhaitham spat, his breathing labored from how vigorously he was fucking you.
“F-Fuck you!” You screamed, winding your one free leg back and kicking him in the face with what little strength you had left.
Alhaitham recoiled, stunned by the blow to his face. The scribe let go of your body, withdrawing from your abused pussy. He looked down at you with an expression you had never seen before…
Was it… Anger?
“Remember that you fucking asked for this.”
Alhaitham moved fast, nearly pouncing on you as he pinned both your legs against your chest. He entered you again, this time with your body even more restricted, not allowing your legs any movement at all as he immediately began his previous pace.
At this angle, somehow, your pleasure felt even more amplified than before. Your eyes rolled back in your head as Alhaitham relentlessly pounded into you. The squelching sounds of his cock invading your drenched pussy, the way he stretched you so perfectly, the bullying of his tip deep within your walls drove you mad with pleasure.
“Nggh!- haah- oh fuck~” The snap of his hips against your already-bruising ass drove you mad with a disgusting mixture of pleasure and pain.
“It's so much better when you’re reduced to unintelligible noises.” Alhaitham grunted.
“Fucking… ass… Haah~”  You whined, but you weren’t able to do much more as your mouth hung open. Alhaitham savored the way your expression seemed vacuous, proof that he and he alone had successfully fucked you dumb.
Alhaitham slowed his thrusts almost completely, determined to torture and tease you until you were reduced to nothing. His length slid in and out of you slowly, and he could feel your swollen walls twitch and constrict from the sudden loss of friction.
However, Alhaitham wasn’t prepared for what you did next. He expected you to beg, to go insane, to promise to do anything just to come around his cock. The last thing he could ever foresee happening was for your face to return to normal, a devilish smirk growing across your lips.
“Fuck you.”
You spat out those words as you twisted your torso, one hand snaking around his back. Your legs shifted to wrap around Alhaitham’s torso as your fingers slipped into the cleft of his ass, making sure he was stuck there as you invaded his tight asshole.
“What are you- HEY!” Alhaitham exclaimed, prepared to force you away from him again, but completely caught off guard by the new sensation he felt.
“Wha- ngh! Ahn-” He groaned. You reveled in the way his face suddenly contorted with pleasure, making sure to ingrain this expression in your memory forever. Your smirk turned into a wicked grin as you pressed your forefinger further into his virgin ass.
The pleasure was foreign, but it was so intense that Alhaitham lost control of his limbs temporarily. He fell on top of you and you took this chance to wrap your legs around his torso, holding him in place as you began to pump the finger in and out of him.
“Haah- Y/N, wh-what is this-”
You cut Alhaitham off with another aggressive kiss, biting at his swollen and bloody lips as you drove him crazy with one single finger.
You could hear Alhaitham’s breathing become erratic as you continued, the scribe still unable to move due to the sheer volume of overstimulation. To make sure you truly drove him mad with pleasure, you added a second finger, probing further into his ass as you pumped in and out of him.
“Aahn~” Alhaitham broke from the kiss, his composure completely dissolving as he let out a whine. You’ve never seen him reduced to such a blubbering mess, and you made sure his whimpering and moaning would be etched into your memory permanently.
Alhaitham couldn’t hold up his head any longer – he rested his forehead in the crook of your neck, his shoulders shaking as he failed to prop himself up on his arms. You felt the full weight of Alhaitham’s body as he came undone from two fingers alone.
“No- fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!” You heard his voice crack while blubbering the mantra of curses as dick twitched and throbbed red-hot inside of you. You could feel his tight hole constrict around your fingers, making you pump into him harder as he whined. Your eyes went wide as you felt something warm spread across your walls. You withdrew both of your fingers from him, suddenly irate.
Alhaitham just came inside of you.
“Are you so incompetent that you just came inside of me?” You questioned, grabbing Alhaitham’s hair and pulling his head up so you could meet his eyes.
You stared for a moment at Alhaitham’s face – his eyes were unfocused, glazed over, a flush tinting his cheeks a deep red. There was a trail of saliva dripping from one corner of his mouth, his lips hanging open, along with smears of spit all over his chin as he tried his best to recover from what you had just done to him.
“Nghh…” Alhaitham groaned, his arms straining as he slowly picked himself off of you. “That’s what you get for invading my ass.”
“Hah!” You exclaimed, “I’m pretty sure you loved it.”
“Fuck you.” Alhaitham responded, his cognition reduced to vulgar insults after such intense stimulation.
“I’m pretty sure you just tried to do that.” You sneered. “You didn’t succeed, because the only person who came was you.”
Alhaitham merely growled, pushing himself off of you and withdrawing his half-hard dick from your pussy. It was coated in a sheen of white, a vulgar mixture of both your arousal and his cum. He grabbed your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your delicate skin as he pulled you towards the end of the bed and flipped you onto your stomach. He lifted your hips into the air, his biceps flexing as he supported your body weight.
Alhaitham used one thumb to pull apart your swollen lips, admiring the sheen of your arousal and the clumps of cum that dripped from your entrance. At the thought of brutalizing your pussy and unloading inside of it, his dick was already hard again.
“What are you doing- Ahhhnnn~” Your eyes went wide as Alhaitham thrusted into you, starting at an aggressive pace that had you digging your elbows into the mattress for support. You had no control since your legs were dangling in the air off the edge of the bed, the ridiculous position only made possible by Alhaitham’s strength.
“Do you really think you can win,” Alhaitham  spoke, his voice mixing with the lewd slapping and squelching as he fucked you brutally, “when I’m stronger, I’m smarter, I’m better than you?
“Haaah~ you’re wrong-“ you gasped out, your head buried in the mattress as Alhaitham’s thrusts shook your body violently. “Aah- bastard!”
Alhaitham showed no signs of relenting as he burned with indignation. He couldn’t believe you had made him cum the way you did – it drove him to fuck you deeper, harder, to drive you insane with his cock. He ignored your whimpering and moaning, determined to teach you a lesson.
As he pummeled into you over and over, you could feel your abdomen tightening with pleasure. From this angle, he felt bigger and longer than before, and it was beginning to drive you insane. Each snap of his hips against your ass pushed you closer and closer to your climax, and you began to lose control of what you were saying as you approached the precipice of orgasm.
“Hnnn ‘Haitham… ‘so good…” You mumbled, your voice muffled from the way your head was pressed into the mattress.
“Hmm, what was that?” You heard Alhaitham speak smugly between the loud slapping of his thrusts.
“Screw you” You gave a breathless groan in response as you tried your best to hang onto reality despite being so close to orgasm. You were infuriated by how smug he was becoming even if not five minutes before he was in the exact same position. You were determined to not let him win in this competition.
However, a loud smack resounded through the room, followed by a whimper. Alhaitham had used one hand to land a harsh blow on your ass. He left behind a red handprint on your soft skin.
Alhaitham only smirked as he continued to fuck you; seeing the way your ass was in the air and your face was buried in the sheets seemed so perfect to him. He wanted to see you at his mercy, begging for his cock, calling his name over and over.
Thus, he pulled out of you suddenly, throwing your body back down onto the mattress. You rolled onto your back as you let out a whine from the sudden lack of stimulation and the harrowing sensation of emptiness within you.
“What? Wh-Why’d you stop, you asshole!” You shouted, glaring up at the narcissistic scholar.
“If you want to cum, you have to beg.” Alhaitham sneered. He got onto all fours above you, hands planted on either side of your head as he hooked your legs over his shoulders. You stared at him, half-expecting him to continue his brutal fucking despite what he had just said.
Instead, Alhaitham began to grind against your aching pussy. His thick length ran up and down your soaked slit, teasing your overly-sensitive clit.
“Hahhh… stop that!” You squirmed, but Alhaitham only ground against you harder. He dipped his head down, biting into the soft tissue of one breast, leaving a dark purple hickey as he withdrew.
“Beg.”
“Like hell I will!” You responded, trying to kick your legs only to realize Alhaihtam was hovering so low above you that you had no leverage when they were hooked over his shoulders like this. Alhaitham moved to another location, leaving a painfully dark hickey again.
“Ugh, stop it!” You reached your hands up, pulling at Alhaihtam’s hair to try to make him stop leaving hickeys.
Alhaitham’s lips parted from your chest with a popping sound, a string of saliva hanging from his lips as he reached one arm up and grabbed both of your hands. Pinning them above your head, he rocked his hips against you harder, making your back arch as you ached for him to fill you.
“Aagh!” You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut. “Stop teasing me and just fuck me already!” 
“Hmm? What was that?” Alhaitham taunted, rolling his hips again, sending small jolts of pleasure shooting up your abdomen – but it wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you orgasm.
“I said, just fuck me already!” You groaned, your pussy clenching around nothing as you grew more and more desperate to be filled.
“Hmmm… I don’t like your tone.” Alhaihtam responded coolly, “I want you to beg.”
Another slow grind against your swollen lips left you panting.
“Haahh,” You blinked, trying your best to maintain composure, “fuck me… please.”
“Begging is really not a hard thing to do.” Alhaitham teased, “Are you really that bad at understanding such a simple direction?”
“Please fuck me.” You whimpered, your voice suddenly small.
“What exactly do you want me to do?” Alhaitham pushed you further as he ground against you again. The motion drew a small whimper from your lips.
“P-please, I need your cock…” You whined as Alhaitham rolled his hips into you once more, “I need your cock inside of me…”
“Very well.” Alhaitham spoke bluntly, drawing his hips back and thrusting into you with force.
You let out a shrill scream as Alhaitham’s hips came to land against the plush of your ass. The stretch felt so good, the way he filled you so perfectly made your eyes roll into the back of your head.
However, Alhaitham came to a stop like that. He didn’t move any more, keeping his hips settled against your ass. Your eyes blinked open as you came back to your senses, and you realized Alhaitham was staring down at you with an infuriatingly smug expression on his face.
“If you want me to do anything more than this, you’ll have to be better at begging.”
“Ngh… No… Please, just fuck me already…” You whimpered, trying to move your hips to gain any sort of friction between his cock and your aching walls.
“I said beg.”
“Please, please I’ll do anything, just fuck me!” You exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes as you grew more and more desperate.
“If you really mean you’ll do anything,” Alhaitham’s voice dripped with gratification, “Then who’s cock do you want to fuck you?”
“Alhaitham’s cock, please, Alhaitham please fuck me! Please make me cum pleasepleaseplease-”
Alhaitham drew his hips back before sharply thrusting into you a single time, his hips colliding with your ass as a loud slap echoed through his bedroom. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you let out the most lewd and pitiful whine, your body shaking from how desperately you craved stimulation.
“Look at you, so desperate for the cock of a feeble scholar.” Alhaitham sneered, “If you want it so badly, you have to finally admit that I’m better than you.”
“Ngh, no-” You were cut off by another singular thrust, “haah- ngh…”
Alhaitham grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing your head back and exposing your throat. You moaned, somehow turned on by his painful grip on your hair.
“You’ll have to admit it if you want to cum. Trust me, I can wait all day... But I’m sure you wouldn’t like that.”
As Alhaitham spoke, he rolled his hips slightly, the tip of his dick pressing harder into your sensitive walls.
“Hahhh…” You sighed, your resolve finally breaking down. “You’re better, Alhaitham, you’re smarter and stronger and the only one who can make me-”
Alhaitham had finally heard what he was so eager to hear after all of these years. He finally let loose, allowing his desires to take over now that he won. He thrusted into you wildly, leaving all restraint in the back of his mind as he pummel into your sweet, submissive pussy.
You screamed as you finally received the stimulation you craved. Alhaitham went wild as he pounded into you, talking down to you now that your responses had devolved into lewd whimpers and screams.
“This is why the Sages chose me to retrieve the divine knowledge capsule and not you. Hahh, I’m surprised they even let you compete with me for the Auspicious knowledge capsule. You would have died at the hands of a Fatui Harbinger if it weren’t for my quick thinking… ngh…”
Alhaitham was getting far too turned on by talking down to you and hearing only garbled moans in response.
“Haaah, ‘Haitham!” You exclaimed, your eyes rolling back in your head as you grew closer and closer to orgasm. Your shouts rose into screams as Alhaitham continued to bully his quickly swelling cock into your aching and abused walls. “So good, so good, s’goo…” Your mind went blank from the pleasure as your mouth hung open, the sounds you made growing louder and louder.
“Ngh, shut up.” Alhaitham reached his free hand up to your neck, supporting his body weight on his elbows instead. He pulled harder on your hair as he squeezed your neck. He cut off your screams but at the same time stopped any access to air. Your mouth hung open silently, drool trailing from your swollen and bloody lips, your eyes going wide.
You finally, after hours of violently hateful sex, came at the mercy of your most hated rival.
And at that moment, you passed out.
Alhaitham could feel your walls convulse around his cock so tightly that his movements had to slow down – you were squeezing him so hard that it almost hurt. After a couple of seconds you suddenly went limp around him, your walls still twitching sporadically, and Alhaitham gave a few more sharp thrusts before pulling out of you and spraying his load over your chest and face.
The silver-haired scribe was panting hard as he slowly came down from his high. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling it slick with sweat from so much physical exertion. He’d never had such intense sex in his life – even though his sex life was anything but bland.
He glanced down at your unconscious form sprawled out on the bed before him, your head twisted at an awkward angle and your legs splayed on either side of you as if they were putting your leaking pussy on display. He watched as a thick stream of cum slowly trailed out of your entrance, his gaze moving up to see the mottled red and purple marks he had made all over your skin.
After a couple of moments, Alhaitham snapped out of his daze as he was suddenly wracked with guilt. He leaned over you, reaching two fingers up to your neck, waiting breathlessly as he tried to find a heartbeat.
He shook his head as he finally found one, sighing to himself.
“I’m just being irrational. Of course I didn’t kill her.” He sighed, looking back and staring at your unconscious body. He drank in the marks on your skin, the slick that spilled out of you, proud that he was the only one to ever do this to you – who ever could do this to you.
For a moment, Alhaitham wanted to stay. He wanted to take care of you, to clean you up and hold you until he fell asleep. However, he quickly rid those thoughts from his head – he had a mission to complete.
Alhaitham slipped his pants and shirt back on, ignoring his disgustingly messy body as he began to walk out of the room. On the way out he picked up his cape, slinging it over his shoulder as he shut his bedroom door behind himself.
~~~
Kaveh was trying to figure out the best materials to use for the carpet of this foyer. He was an architect at heart, not an interior decorator – but this job paid well. The more jobs he took, the more he’d get paid, and then he’d finally be able to move out of Alhaitham’s hellish apartment.
The sounds of you and Alhaitham arguing grated against his ears, but he did his best to block them out – he felt bad for you. You were the same as Kaveh… you were also stuck living here, and you got just as infuriated as him by that damned scribe.
‘Stop it! Do you even care about leaving marks?’
Kaveh frowned, his head tilting to the side as he heard your shout come from the other room. He shook his head, deciding his brain was definitely in the gutter after what had happened between the three of you a week ago. There was certainly nothing lewd going on between the two of you… right?
‘Well, you’d look far better without those clothes.’
Kaveh’s eyes went wide. Alhaitham wasn’t really saying that to you, was he? Was this one of his perverse ways of giving compliments? Kaveh knew Alhaitham was bad at speaking to women, but he never expected something this bad to come from his mouth.
Then, he began to hear moans.
“That’s it, I’m taking more jobs so I can move out even faster!” Kaveh grumbled to himself, raking his fingers through his bangs as he tried his best to focus on the task at hand. “Ahh, yeah, the colors… which colors go best with ivory again…” He grumbled, talking out loud to try to drown out the very loud sexual behavior that had begun in the room next door.
However, when he began to hear the moans that came from Alhaitham, Kaveh dropped his pencil.
‘What are you- haaah~’
Kaveh couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants, and slowly slipped his fingers beneath his clothes to take care of the problem.
~~~
“Kaveh, I need a favor.”
The blonde jumped up from his desk, quickly adjusting his clothes before turning towards Alhaitham with a stern frown on his face.
“What is it, Alhaitham?” Kaveh couldn’t hide the venom that dripped from his voice. “You stink of sex, you mongrel.”
“Stop acting like you don’t have ears, Kaveh.” Alhaitham retorted. “And stop acting like you weren’t enjoying yourself just now, either.”
Kaveh’s eyes widened with shock and indignation.
“Why you-”
“I need you to make sure Y/N stays here while I travel to Port Ormos.” Alhaitham sternly cut off his blonde roommate. “It’s not safe for her there. Last time she nearly got killed, and I can’t have her endangering herself again.”
Kaveh’s brows pinched together with confusion.
“Is it another one of those missions the Sages send you on? Don’t they usually send the both of you on the same mission?”
“It’s highly classified information.” Alhaitham responded bluntly. “But yes – I personally asked them not to send her on these missions anymore. I assured them that I would be enough.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s not going to like this when she finds out-”
“That’s why I’m leaving now. I plan to be long gone by the time she realizes.” Alhaitham cut Kaveh off once again. “And that’s why you have to do anything in your power to stop her from leaving the house.”
“I- what?” Kaveh questioned. “And you’re going to leave while smelling this foul?”
“That’s none of your business.” Alhaitham responded. “I’m entrusting her to you.”
The scribe merely walked away, as if Kaveh had already agreed to do such a heinous thing as keep you locked indoors for days on end.
Kaveh threw down his blueprints in anger, infuriated by the borderline unlivable environment of Alhaitham’s house. Then, he realized he had a deadline to meet, and awkwardly scrambled to pick back up his papers and opted to carry them out to the living room to finish them up in a different setting.
After about an hour, Kaveh was enjoying a hot cup of tea as he finished up another section of his commission. He heard the creak of a door opening – you were finally emerging from Alhaitham’s bedroom. Kaveh continued to scribble one last thing down with his free hand as he spoke to you.
“Good, you’re finally awake. Do you want some tea? I just brewed-”
Kaveh stopped mid-sentence as he looked up to see the state of you. His eyes went wide as he saw your messy hair, your bloody lips, and the purplish blotches of the hickeys Alhaitham had left all over your once-pristine skin. You were clinging to a bed sheet that you had loosely wrapped around your torso, your posture hunched over as if you were in pain.
“Archons, Y/N, you look like hel-”
“Where’s Alhaitham.” Your tone dripped with hatred.
“He’s gone.” Kaveh responded.
“He’s what?” Your eyes went wide. “I need to go after him.” You glanced around the living room.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you leave the house.” Kaveh responded.
“What?” You questioned, confused.
“Alhaitham said that if I let you leave the house, you’ll just go after him and endanger your life again.”
“Grrr, that BASTARD!” You exclaimed, spinning around and storming back into his bedroom, slamming the door shut so violently that it rattled the plates in the kitchen cupboards.
Kaveh let out a sigh of relief despite being seriously worried about the state of your body.
“At least she’s not trying to leave.” He sighed, trying his best to continue working on the paperwork.
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ltwilliammowett · 6 months
Text
Life on board a 17th century warship
The sailing crew was divided into two watches under the two lieutenants, each working for four hours while the other rested. While off duty, they were expected to stay below decks and out of the way, but could be called to work at any time if all hands were required, such as when anchoring or making a major sail change. When below, they probably tried to sleep as much as they could, since the four-hour schedule is not natural and quickly leads to fatigue. When not sleeping, they probably used much of the time off watch to mend their clothes and shoes, but they might relax with games, music or a popular new pastime, smoking, although this was only allowed in the cookroom.
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War Ships 17th Century, by Jefferys, Charles W. 1942 in: The Picture Gallery of Canadian History Volume 1, p.99
Food was also prepared in the cookroom, a brick-lined hearth in front of the mainmast in the hold, and carried up to the gundecks in buckets, where it was doled out into big wooden bowls. Depending on the ship, food could also be prepared in the galley, which was located in the forecastle or midships.
Each man had his own wooden spoon, and some had wooden plates, but most ate from the bowl shared by a mess, a group of six or seven men who ate and lived together. They drank weak beer, "ship's ale," from a shared wooden tankard. The base of the diet was salted meat for protein and dried peas and bread for carbohydrates. Barrels full of bones found in the hold show that the meat was mostly beef, with a little pork and mutton, as well as fish and poultry. Interessting fact was that some of the crew were prepared to supplement this, as fishing equipment and hunting weapons were found in shipwrecks like the Vasa, as well as the bones of roe deer, moose, and grouse. The skeletons of chickens suggest that a few fresh eggs were available.
As in other navies, they did not issue uniforms in that time, the men had to buy or make their own clothes. In some cases cloth was provided as part of their salary, but the typical sailor's clothing was the same as the clothing they arrived in from the farm or town: a linen shirt, a short, skirted woollen doublet (jacket), wool trousers that ended below the knee, woollen socks, and leather shoes. Many had broad-brimmed hats or conical caps. The cloth varied from coarse homespun to imported dyed fabrics, but almost all sailors sewed strips of contrasting cloth or even lace down the outside seams of their trousers in imitation of the clothing worn by the well-to-do. Clothes had to be hard-wearing, since most people could not afford more than one set.
The senior officers lived aft in the cabins of the sterncastle, where they had more space, glass windows, proper furniture, and ate their meals from pewter or earthenware table service. They had finer clothes, but as more than one visitor to Sweden from the continent remarked, it was difficult to tell the nobles from the peasants, since they dressed alike. The officers also had to share their accommodation, sleeping in pairs in narrow double beds, but the cabins were built to resemble the interior of houses ashore. The great cabin, where the king or an admiral would stay, was fitted out like a room in the royal palace, with fine panelling and carved sculptures that emphasised the power of the people who lived there.
The 17th century was a violent period, and both on shore and at sea brutal punishments were prescribed for even minor crimes. Conscripts often came from rough backgrounds, but discipline was essential for the smooth and safe functioning of a ship. In crowded conditions, small disagreements could easily blow up into fights, grumbling could turn to mutiny. Officers had to earn the trust of the men they commanded, but needed the option of punishment for the intractable. The articles of war specified that a person causing a fire was to be cast into the same fire, a person starting a fight was to be stabbed through the hand with a knife, blasphemers and those speaking ill of the king or his officers were to be keelhauled, murderers should be tied to their victims and thrown in the sea. In practice, a captain who had to use these punishments too often risked losing the respect of his men and his fellow captains and could not rule for long.
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