#carbonation hiccups | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riediaries · 11 months ago

Text

the wailing sound of a baby fills up the room for the nth time tonight. the crying continues and becomes louder throughout the second.

you groan, waking up from your needed sleep. as much as you want to wake up satoru to take care of her, you can't. you are both equally tired and sleep-deprived because of your daughter.

you try to get up slowly to not wake up satoru but he already beat you into it. he gets up and pushes your body gently to the bed.

"sleep some more." he leans down to give your forehead a kiss and then gets up to be with his baby daughter.

"hi mochi." he smiles to her. that smile alone makes her feel really safe and comfortable as she's now calming down. she raises her two chubby hands, wanting her daddy to carry her.

"do you think it's too early for you to wake us up?" he jokes. satoru checks her diaper for poop just in case and after that, he carefully puts his gentle hands on her body to lift her up.

you can not take off your eyes on the scene unfolding in front of you. quietly observing the two white haired baby and the big baby.

satoru continues to rock her body as he hums in a melodic tone. the crying comes to stop and she hiccups.

"yes.. yes.. daddy's here.." he swaddles his baby around his arm in a gentle way, afraid to hurt her in any way.

you get up and your feet automatically makes its way to your little family. you hug your husband by the waist, putting your chin on his shoulder to see your daughter eyeing his father. blue eyes to blue eyes.

you were not glad by the genes of this man covering your daughter whole. from head to toe. she's the carbon copy of her dad but on the other side, you were happy that the only man you love is practically the twin of your daughter.

this thought makes another thought on your mind in which you giggle.

satoru breaks his eye contact with his baby and turns his head to you. "hm? what is it? and shouldn't you be sleeping?"

you continue to giggle and put your forehead on his shoulder, an attempt to muffle your giggles but satoru's plump lips makes out a smile.

"what is it? what's funny?" he asks again. he's curious why you're giggling a little too much.

you sigh and turns your head to meet his stunning blue eyes that was passed down on your daughter.

you look at your daughter first who's already eyeing you, too. great. two pairs of beautiful eyes watching you.

"there's this saying.." you start and your attention goes back to satoru.

he hums, signaling you to continue.

"this saying says that whoever was the carbon copy of the kid was the one who enjoyed a little too much during the making.." you burst out of laughing.

as you make your point, satoru chuckles at that saying, slightly agreeing. "oh?" he raises an eyebrow and grins.

"oh.. is that so?" he wiggles his eyebrows this time.

"mhm.." you hum. "so.. you enjoyed it a lot, huh, satoru?" you tease him.

he laughs quietly. "uh-huh, you caught me, babe." he leans to you, pecking your lips shortly. "i enjoyed it a lot and i will enjoy it more in the future." he whispers on your lips as teases you back.

it's now your turn to frown. "no way." you roll your eyes to dismiss his earlier thought.

he grins even more and turns his attention back to the baby who's been quiet. "but she needs siblings soon enough to have a playmate. isn't that right, baby?" babying the words in the last sentence.

"c'mon. you clearly enjoyed the making, too. even though just a little of your genes were taken out for our baby." he laughs and your daughter giggles, it's as if she's teaming up with him to tease you.

"oh my.. what a little rebellion we have right now." you chuckle at your daughter's early stages of being a mini satoru.

"you should team up with mommy when you grow up." you boop her nose which made her giggle more, making you and satoru smile at your child that has you and satoru's best qualities.

giggles and laughs filled the room at three am in the morning, too early for some playful interaction with your little family.

"no, right? baby girl should team up with daddy and that's why, mommy.." he turns to you again. "we should make another one for you to have a teammate soon enough." he laughs, louder this time.

"no–"

"but this time, i will make sure you'll enjoy more than me so that the second one will be your own very carbon copy." he grins and you slap his back.

what a rough future you'll be expecting.

#rie.writes #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #girl dad gojo

3K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 7 months ago

Text

sparkling juice

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad

“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.

“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.

“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.

“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.

“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.

you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”

“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.

rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.

“wanna try some juice with me baby?”

“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”

you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”

“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”

“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.

“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”

rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.

“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.

“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”

“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”

“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”

“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”

“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”

“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.

“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”

“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”

“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.

“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.

“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.”

you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.

“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.

“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”

“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”

“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.

“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”

“mhm.”

“and we have been dating for over a year now.”

“yes.”

“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.

“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.

“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.

“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.

“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”

“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.

rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.

“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.

“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.

“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..

“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”

“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.”

“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.

“okay.” you say.

rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.

“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.

he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.

you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.

rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.

“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”

“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.

“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.

“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.

“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.

“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”

“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.

he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.

“i think im close.” you say.

“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.

your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.

you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.

rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.

“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.

“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.

“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.

-- six months later --

“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen.

“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.

you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.

“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.

rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”

1K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 8 months ago

Text

Simon ''Ghost'' Riley — Masterlist 💀🖤

cr: @ave661

Simon Riley Moodboard | Smut Masterlist | Bimbo!Reader Masterlist | Dad!Ghost Masterlist

This Masterlist only has the material I've created in 2024. To explore older works, you can check my Main Masterlist, or use the tags #Simon Riley x Fem!Reader or #Ghost mw2 on my profile to access all my works!

Do not translate, post, or put my content into AI tools.

Ongoing Series Lorelei

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

K-9

Simon Riley and his pathetic efforts to get close to the new medic will earn him a scar or two

Simon Riley is in love with an uninterested, tired medic.

Angel

Synopsis: Afraid of giving you the same destiny all his loved ones met, an emotionally unavailable Simon does his best to pretend being in love with you for one night, later deciding to introduce you to the one person who can give you the love you want; John Price.

Smut

Silly love-making

Simon's obsession with pornstar!reader

Sex on camera

No man could act this good

Using his naked body for art purposes

Love-making

FWB!Simon cucking your hookup

Tattoo Artist!Simon

Prettiest girl in Edinburgh

Hybrid cat!Reader tag teamed by Simon and Johnny

Soul-crushing devotion and medical emergencies

AI!Reader gets a physical body

Neet!Reader jerks him off

Hybrid wolf!Simon x Catgirl!Reader

Sleep-walking, but fucking instead

Simon becomes vocal when you give him blowjobs

Rimming him

Monster fucker

Dick headcanons

Catgirl in heat

Drabbles

Gym bros Johnny and Simon

Creature!Reader

Tag team 🌶️

Simon Riley is a stray, roughed up cat

Seduction goes against the rules

Nymphomaniac!Reader

Immortal!Reader

The phrase ''the wife'' is always in Simon's mouth

Choking🌶️

Cock warming🌶️

Lipstick marks on his cock

Neet!Reader sniffing his armpits

Milf!Reader drives Simon insane🌶️

Military high ranked!Reader

What turns him off

I have no faith, but I believe in you

You and your daughter love his tattooed arm

Simon is a furnace

Creature!Reader cuddles

Asking for sex after he had a bad day

Cumming too early🌶️

Wearing a white wife beater

Girl dad

Raccoon

Simon makes weird faces under the mask

Juiciest ass in the Task Force

Bulking

Dating a MILF

Naked cuddles

Relationship similar to Batman and Catwoman

Work Song

Cumming on your glasses🌶️

Touch starvation

Fluff & Hurt/Comfort

Expensive presents

Displays of trust

The most broken man turns to religion when you're hurt

A man without big pecs is like an angel without wings

Simon Riley was made for soul-crushing devotion

Broken man in love

Cuddles after a bad day

Simon is a giant black cat

Ai!Assistant Reader

Ai!Assistant Reader bothering Simon

Second chance at being an uncle to your niece

''I'll be the weapon when he needs protection''

Moody catgirl

Red panda hybrid!Reader

Hiccups during sex🌶️

First relationship

Angst

Emotionally unavailable

Immortal!Reader doesn't come back to life

Angel - Part I | Part II

1K notes · View notes

cherryredstars · 11 months ago

Text

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Age Gap, Penetrative Sex, Oral Sex, Facesitting, Breast Play, Body Worship, Praise, Aftercare

Summary: darlin' hold me while you wipe my tears, fallin’ you say i’m wise beyond my years

A/N: An anonymous request that I LIVE for!!! Inspired by @osaemu's fic.

Word Count: 3.9K (Not Edited)

You should have used waterproof mascara.

You should have known no matter how sparkly your dresses were, how perfect your makeup was, or how pretty you looked, he’d always find attention from someone else who did it ten times better. But you had still hoped. Hoped that on your own goddamn birthday, your own boyfriend would spare you even a second of attention. Instead, you’re tilting your head back outside on his shitty mansion’s balcony so your tears don’t ruin your makeup.

If your boyfriend was going to fuck every girl at this party but you, you wanted to at least look somewhat pretty and not like the sad, lonely mess you know you are. You embarrassed yourself enough when you had stormed up to him, interrupted his groupie make out session, and slapped him across the face screaming about breaking up with him. You can feel your chin wobble at the thought, and you sniffle and blink rapidly at the sky in an attempt to banish the new wave of sadness that courses through you. Best present ever! Your late twenties are treating you sooo well!

The sound of the balcony door opening catches your attention, and you’re quick to hastily wipe the tears streaming down your face as you clear your throat. You turn towards the door, ready to give whoever it is a wavering smile and a, Oh! I’m just out getting some fresh air! The smell of cigarettes was so strong haha! I promise I’m not crazy and go around slapping people on my birthday! But, you’re surprised to see Miguel, Gabe’s dad, standing there with a bottle of beer in his hand. And he's staring at you. You sniffle again, blinking rapidly. Gabe’s almost a carbon copy of his father, minus the ruggedness that comes with aging. Miguel also has the working man appearance to him, rough around the edges from hard work that his son doesn’t have. Miguel looks exactly like your usual type, but of course you had to go for his young, stupid son.

You can feel tears beginning to spill from your eyes again and you turn away. You’re sure he’s going to kick you out, question you on why you’re still here after making a scene and slapping his son in front of everyone. You try to muffle your teary hiccup by placing your palm over your mouth as you rest your elbows on your knees. Miguel sighs deeply, moving to sit on the chair parallel to yours. You turn your head slightly as you catch movement, wet eyes noticing the half empty beer bottle Miguel silently holds out for you. You blink at it for a few seconds in confusion, only understanding that he’s offering it to you when he shakes it slightly in his hand.

You pull your mouth away from the palm of your hand and shake your head slightly as you mumble, “I don’t drink.”

He doesn’t say anything in return, taking the bottle back and taking a sip. You study him for a second, waiting for him to get mad or something, but he just looks straight ahead admiring the view as he sips on his beer. After a while, you do the same. You look straight ahead, feeling the tears dry on your face. Your face feels slightly sticky from the tears, and you have a feeling you’ve smudged your mascara and eyeliner.

Now that you’re not focused on crying all the water out of your body, you realize how cold it is outside. You shiver, only lasting a few more minutes before you’ve decided you rather not die of hypothermia tonight. As you’re about to get up, Miguel speaks up.

“I’m sorry about, Gabe. I don’t know how he turned into such an ass. He’s a piece of shit for making a pretty thing like you cry on your birthday.”

When you turn to look at him, he’s already looking at you. You give him a tight lipped smile, shrugging in mock-indifference.

“It’s okay, I didn’t like him that much anyways, no offense.” Then, to lighten the mood, “I’m not an expert on feelings, but I don’t think he liked me that much either.”

Miguel stares at you like he doesn’t believe you when you say you don’t like him, but it’s the truth. You haven’t really felt anything romantic for Gabe in a while. The only reason you’ve stuck by him was because he’s the only person you really know in Nueva York. But now, you’re all by yourself in this big ass city. At least you love your job.

“Yeah, well, he’s an idiot for letting you go. Trust me, sooner or later he’s going to regret it.” Miguel defends you. He looks personally offended at the thought of his son, or anyone, not liking you.

His words make your smile brighten slightly and you laugh, “Thank you, but I really doubt that. By tomorrow he’ll probably forget I even existed.”

Miguel scowls at that, and you yelp when his hand reaches out and pulls your chair towards his. Your knees knock with his, and you have to hold onto the armrest of his chair to prevent yourself from falling on top of him. You look up at him with wide eyes, breath stifling from how close his face is to yours. Your heart beats erratically as he leans in close, the almost red-brown of his eyes getting more detailed. Your eyes can’t help but trail down to his lips. They’re slightly glossy from his beer, and for the first time, you're tempted to try it.

You’re quickly startled out of your thoughts when Miguel’s hand grips your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. They’re slightly hooded as he looks down the end of his nose at you, and you gulp nervously. His thumb caresses your skin gently, and you have to work hard to not close your eyes as he leans his face down. Instead of the kiss you thought he was going to give you, he shifts until his mouth is close to your ear.

Your disappointment quickly disappears as your breath hitches. His breath his warm against your ear as he whispers, “He should have treated you like a fucking queen.”

Your heart skips a beat, eyes dropping to your thigh as Miguel’s other hand moves to rest on it. It kneads the plush skin softly before sliding up and fiddling with the ends of your dress. His hand looks so big on your body. You can feel the calluses on his fingers, they’re rough and cracked. Totally different from the too soft hands of Gabe. The hard difference between a man who works hard to get what he wants and a boy who expects everything served to him on a silver platter.

Miguel’s hand begins to slip under the edge of your dress, and your body straightens with your gasp as his fingers skim the center of your panties. You can practically sense Miguel’s smile as his fingers ever so lightly brush up and down. You can’t help the way your body squirms at his touch, thighs threatening to close around his hand. His fingers float higher and higher, until they’re pressing against your clothed clit. You can feel yourself dripping into your panties and you whine.

“I can treat you like the queen you are.”

Miguel’s voice distracts you from his hand, eyes moving up to his face as he moves away from your ear. His eyes are glossy with lust, something hot in his gaze. You can feel yourself clench around nothing, and based on the way Miguel’s eyes darken, he felt it too. His words pound against the walls of your brain, repeating and stretching as you think up of what he means.

In the end, all you can let out is a: “W-what?”

Behind the lust, Miguel’s eyes flicker in amusement. His hand leaves your chin, sliding up your face until he’s twirling a strand of your hair around his finger. “Let me show you how you should be treated. How a man would treat you.”

His proposal burns through your stomach, your eyes blinking rapidly as you breathe in deeply. You can smell the slight tinge of beer mixed with the masculine scent of cinnamon and firewood. It makes your brain dizzy, coaxing you to nod in agreement. Miguel’s hand stops playing with your hair instantly, eyes falling over your face for any sign of indecision. He doesn’t find any, but he still needs verbal confirmation.

“You gotta tell me clearly, baby.” He urges, leaning his face close again.

He’s a millimeter away, your lips brushing against his as you say, “Please.”

Your only warning is the rumbling groan he lets out before he’s catching your lips in a searing kiss. You whine against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as his teeth nip at your bottom lip. You lean more into him, arms hesitantly coming to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair. Your lips part when you feel his own hand push onto the small of your back, allowing his tongue to slip through. Both of you moan into the kiss when your tongues meet, the remains of bitter beer invading your taste buds. It should be disgusting, should remind you of all the times Gabe slobbered all over your mouth in a drunken make out, but it doesn’t. Miguel is experienced, knowing where to place his hands and where to caress with his tongue. His lips move with calculated confidence where Gabe would open and close his mouth like a fish.

Right as your mind becomes slightly dizzy from lack of oxygen, Miguel pulls away. His eyes are still trained to your lips, now plump and wet with spit. He hisses under his breath, cherishing the yelp you let out as he quickly lifts you as he stands. Your arms stay wrapped around his neck, only tightening as he sets you into a bridal-style carry. His sudden display of strength makes you clench your thighs. Gabe never offered to carry you, mumbling something about not wanting his arms to get sore. But Miguel carries you like you weigh nothing, even trusting to support you with a single hand as he opens the sliding door and closes it behind the two of you.

The loud music hits you full blast, the smell of nicotine and alcohol following. From Miguel’s arms, you can see Gabe still on the couch with his entourage of girls. Even from the distance and colored lights, you can see the redness of his cheek where you’ve slapped him. You’re quickly forgetting about him again when Miguel starts moving, carrying you up the stairs. He pauses in front of the door two away from Gabe’s. Miguel’s room. He opens it and locks it behind the two of you, depositing you on his large bed.

It smells strongly of him, and you have to fight yourself to not breathe in deeply. His sheets feel heavenly against your skin, caressing it like silk. The mattress sinks under you slightly, cocooning your body. It sinks deeper as Miguel crawls on top of you. Your hips are caged by his knees as he kneels, arms holding him up by your head. They come to rest under your head, pulling you up to kiss you again. The two of you sink back into the bed as your tongues clash, and you squeal when Miguel flips you over so you’ve swapped positions. He chuckles against your lips, pulling away and smiling when you pout at him.

“Shhh,” He smiles, hands sliding down to the zipper of your dress. He drags it down slowly, watching as the straps of your dress fall away and slide down your shoulders, “Let me worship you.”

Your thighs tighten around his waist, blinking down at him as he pushes your dress down to reveal your bare breasts. There wasn’t any need for a bra with your dress having built in padding. You gasp when he surges forward, holding you in place with his hands on your waist as he sucks one of your boobs into his mouth. Your hands tangled into his hair, head tilting back with a moan as he licks and teasingly bites down on your nipple. One of his hands slides up to your upper back, pressing so your chest is pushed against his face. He moans around your nipple, hungrily lapping and sucking as he looks up at you. He’s entranced by the way your lips part as you moan and whine, your neck revealed to him as your face faces the ceiling.

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants, distracting himself by giving your other breast attention. His eyes practically roll to the back of his head as you tug on his hair. When he’s satisfied, he parts from your breasts with a final kiss to both of your nipples. They’re hardened and shiny with his saliva, and he’s almost tempted to go back for seconds. But he has other things in mind. You watch him as he lays flat on his back, the hand at your back returning to your waist so his other can reach under your dress. You gasp, hands planting on his chest as he rips your underwear off of you. Your eyes are wide as he brings them up to his nose, squeezing at your waist as he moans at the scent.

He stuffs them into his pocket, both hands now planted on your waist again. He bunches your dress around your waist, looking like a goddess as all your privates are revealed to him. He picks you up, your hands gripping the headboard as he sits you on his face. The noise you let out is close to a scream as his lips instantly attack your clit, sucking it into his mouth. His tongue is warm against your aching bud, your eyes rolling back with another loud moan when his tongue slides against your folds. You want to cry when he pulls you off his face slightly, his chin already sparkly with slick.

“Gods baby, you’re so sensitive. Gabe never eat you out before?” He teases, but he quickly loses the smirk on his face when you whimper out a no. He rolls his eyes, mumbling out pinche imbécil before diving back into your folds.

You can’t help bucking against his mouth, his nose beginning to nudge at the bud between your legs. He groans under you in appreciation, and you feel it throughout your whole body. You’re a whiny mess on top of him, your sounds drowning out the music from downstairs. One of your hands comes to tangle in his hair to help guide your movements, and his hands start rocking your hips to help out. He can feel you clenching against his mouth, your orgasm close. For a second he debates not letting you finish and instead making you come around his cock. But no, he isn’t greedy. He’d let you have all the orgasms you want. You deserve to be deeply satisfied and fucked out. Plus, he needs to make up for all the times his son failed to get you to your peak.

He’s definitely happy with his choice as you fucking scream his name, back arching as you lean against the headboard. Your thighs twitch around his head, your breath heavy as you whine. Your release flows into his mouth like thick honey, and it tastes just as sweet. He can feel himself twitch in his pants again, and he holds you down to prevent you from getting up. He needs to make sure he swallows every last drop you’re giving him. Has to show you how grateful he is that you’re giving him your sweet release. When he finally lets you off, you do so on numb legs. You roll to the side, chest still heaving as he groans.

“Fuck hermosa, taste fucking divine.” Miguel praises, his body hovering over yours again.

You whine up at him, pulling him into a shy kiss that he returns desperately. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you whimper. As he shares your taste with you, his hands finally get rid of the rest of your dress. He pulls away once it’s off, resting his forehead against yours as his hands undo his belt buckle.

“You’re gorgeous, y’know that? A fucking vision. And you’re all mine.”

Your body arches into him at his words, hands exploring the expanse of his clothed chest as he gets his pants off. His chest leaves your hands as he sits up again, rapidly undoing the buttons of his button-up and hurriedly taking it off. Both of you are naked, and his eyes get the chance to explore you as you explore him. He’s built in muscle, a little chub at his stomach that has you leaking onto his sheets. His cock hangs heavy in between his legs, unable to hold up its own weight. It makes your mouth water and you almost beg him to put it in your mouth.

You’re distracted from your filthy fantasy when Miguel’s finger lands at the end of your throat and in between your collarbones. He slides it down, goosebumps mapping where he touched. He brings his finger down the valley between your breasts, dragging it to your stomach, and ending its journey at your clit where he taps on it gently. The whole time he holds his breath as if breathing would disturb the perfection in front of him. It makes your body sing, arching into his touch with a small noise that he soaks up.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers into the darkness of the room, leaning back over you.

You can fill his tip rubbing between your thighs, smearing his precum on your skin. You spread your legs wider for him, and you gasp when he grabs them and pushes them up to your chest and over his shoulders. He kisses the side of your knee, eyes peering down at your face as he guides his tip to your entrance. He rubs it up and down slowly, collecting your dripping arousal and nudging at your clit until your body is jolting in sensitivity. When he brings it back to your weeping hole, it slides in with little resistance.

You moan needily as it enters you, and you clench around his tip. It makes Miguel’s mouth drop with a groan, trying to push past your tightness, “You’re so tight, loosen up for me baby.”

You try to relax your walls, but every time he slides further in, your walls clench in pleasure. It makes him chuckle, and he toys with your clit to help your efforts. It works well, and he slides in easily as he rolls your bud in circles.

“Fuckkk, that’s it baby. Taking this cock so well.”

You whine, back arching as he bottoms out. His balls are flush against your skin, and you squirm on his cock as he begins to slide out. You gasp out when he thrusts back in, hitting against your cervix. Your hands reach above you to bury into the plush pillows, mewling as he starts building up a pace. You try to turn your head away, closing your eyes tight as you moan, but Miguel reaches down so you face him and force eye contact. Your eyes are completely dazed from pleasure, lust threatening to spill through your tears. Miguel groans at the sight, his hips beginning to thrust into you faster. Your gummy walls drag against his length, fluttering every now and then as he works you towards another orgasm. It makes his cock twitch inside of you, and he hides his face in your neck and leaves bruising marks. The way he presses into you makes him hit deeper, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you impossibly close to climax. Your hands leave the pillows to rake down Miguel’s back with hiccuped mewls of his name as you feel your stomach burn.

“I know, baby,” Miguel grunts, teeth clenched as his hips start stuttering. “I know, I’m right there too. Let go, I got you.”

With his reassurance and the persuasion of a few more thrusts, your body tenses. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, body arching and twitching as you come. Feeling your walls clench so tightly around him makes Miguel explode soon after, moaning out your name. He works both of you through your orgasms with shallow thrusts that slowly dwindle to a halt. He breathes heavily into your neck, groaning as he slowly pulls out of you with a wet squelch. His face hovers over yours, showering you in chaste kisses that have you letting out breathy giggles.

Once Miguel has caught his breath he gets up, carrying you as he stands off the bed and walking towards the bathroom. He places you down on the sink’s large counter top, your body shocked by the cold marble. He parts from you with a slow kiss to your lips, turning to prepare a bath for you. When the tub fills with steamy water, he picks you up again, stepping in and sitting down with you between his legs. You sigh as the water soothes your aching body. Miguel’s hands begin to massage your body, whispering small praises into your skin and leaving kisses along your neck and shoulders. The coziness of the atmosphere makes you sleepy and you try to stifle a yawn.

Miguel smiles against your skin as he hears it, and he begins to run his fingers through your hair, “Go to sleep, I’ll take care of you.”

And just like that you’re asleep.

--------------------------------------------------

The next morning, you’re woken up with kisses along your naked shoulder. You smile before you open your eyes, turning around to meet Miguel’s face. He hums when you turn to him, pulling you against him more and kissing your cheek. You chuckle at the affection, kissing the crown of his head as you rake your hands through his hair.

“Morning, hermosa.” He mumbles to you, eyes shining at your presence.

“Good morning, handsome. Want some coffee?” You reply, smiling wider when Miguel nods.

You get out of bed, grabbing Miguel’s button up from last night off the floor. You button it up just enough to cover everything, and you hear Miguel groan from the sight from his place on the bed. You giggle, promising to be quick as you leave his room. When you go downstairs, the place is still trashed from the party. You roll your eyes at the mess, feeling bad for the cleaners and already knowing you’re going to offer them help. Luckily, the kitchen is still functional and you begin to brew Miguel’s coffee. You hear footsteps approaching as you fill a mug, turning to see Gabe.

He’s rubbing his eyes when he enters, the tell-tale expression of a hangover on his face. He pauses when he sees you, squinting as the sunlight pours from the kitchen window.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks gruffly, eyes falling to the mug of coffee in your hands. You don’t like coffee, he only knows because you complained about it all the time when he got you one.

You roll your eyes at his tone, setting the spoon down on the sink. You grab the mug and begin walking over to Gabe. For a moment, he thinks the coffee is for him and he begins to reach out for it. But he pauses as your hand cups his cheek mockingly and you coo at him like he's simply a toddler with an attitude.

“Now, now, Gabe. That isn't how you should treat your step-mom, is it?”

1K notes · View notes

sonarspace · 7 months ago

Text

warmth, satoru gojo

a/n: a case of listening to don't let me go by CAS on repeat :D content: angsty wc: 440

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

"satoru," you whisper. the room lit by the full moon peeking through the curtains. he hums sleepily. "can you hold me" your voice quivering with so much emotion his eyes shoot open and he immediately wraps an around your waist.

your back to his chest. "don't let me go. stay with me. i've missed you, satoru." you cry into the pillows. he kisses you on your temple in return. "i'm here," he speaks into your hair.

you turn around in his arms. "so many years satoru. we wasted so many years" you speak through the tears. he doesn't speak, just keeps holding you. his hand moves under your shirt to comfort you. his cold hand against your warm skin.

"i know. i know. i'm sorry. i'm here now, aren't i?" he smiles. beautiful smile. oh how you miss his beautiful smile and that mouth that spoke sweet words like honey. only reserved for your ears. the mouth that left sweet kisses all over your skin.

"no." you speak into the empty room. and just like that satoru's ghost is gone. you curl further into your self and remember his words. when he held your hands with his bloodied ones. you remember how his warmth vanished and was replaced by unbearable cold. how his once blue gleaming eyes that could challenge the stars went blank.

you remember your youth with satoru. how easy it was when you didn't have to worry about anything. everything had to come to an end. no one else could share the love you had. a knock on the door brings you out of your thoughts and you quickly wipe your tears.

"come," and in walks your daughter. her hair white like satoru's, her eyes the exact shade of blue. she was a carbon copy of him. "had a nightmare, again." she hiccups.

"aw baby, come here." she runs into your arms. "i miss daddy," she whispers and your heart clenches. "me too, sweetie." you lay her on the bed next to you. "he's in a better place now" you smile. "he was in a lot of pain, baby. but he's okay now." wherever he was in the afterworld. you prayed and prayed he was okay.

"look, daddy sent the moon again." your daughter points at the window. "you think he's watching us?" she asks you with sweet innocence. "yeah. i think he is." you hold your daughter close to your chest. you fall asleep thinking of satoru and his warmth.

just as he promised, satoru watches you two from the afterworld. he lays down and wraps an around you both, hoping you could feel his warmth.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

164 notes · View notes

thecapricunt1616 · 2 months ago

Text

Promptober Day 2 👻

𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 (𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭) : “Liiiiip” You huff, for the third time in the last 10 minutes, and he still hadn’t acknowledged you as he kept yapping away about some baseball game with one of his friends from class, gently rubbing and squeezing your hip as he spoke. He’d finally had enough though, as he rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his beer before looking at you. “Yes, baby?” He asked? His Tone laced with annoyance. You had been moping around all night, saying that this party was no fun cause all they had was beer and straight whiskey (with no mixers available) which was fine by him. But you were more of a fruity carbonated girl, and all they were playing was boy music as you’d also whined to him earlier.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Welcome to day 2 of promptober! we get 2 doses of smut today, stay tuned tonight for kinktober day two! you can view my schedule & masterlist for this celebration right 🦇here🦇! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.1k 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Impact play, spanking, Dom!Lip, College Lip 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬: @/𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐤𝐚-𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐬

“Liiiiip” You huff, for the third time in the last 10 minutes, and he still hadn’t acknowledged you as he kept yapping away about some baseball game with one of his friends from class, gently rubbing and squeezing your hip as he spoke. He’d finally had enough though, as he rolled his eyes and took a long sip of his beer before looking at you.

“Yes, baby?” He asked? His Tone laced with annoyance. You had been moping around all night, saying that this party was no fun cause all they had was beer and straight whiskey (with no mixers available) which was fine by him. But you were more of a fruity carbonated girl, and all they were playing was boy music as you’d also whined to him earlier.

“I wanna go homee” you said and kissed his neck gently, nipping at a hickey you’d left last night before sucking it gently.

“Ey’ cut it out” he moves his hand down to your ass and squeezes lightly “behave” he said low and quiet in your ear. In response you just bit down harder, which made him hiss a bit and he spanks you to get you to let go, earning a few snickers from his friends.

“Owie!” You yelp a bit and he shook his head, finishing off the rest of his beer.

“You tryna’ make a fool outta me isn’t gonna make us leave faster. In fact, I need another drink.” He led you with him back to the kitchen to get himself another beer. You groan dramatically, dragging your feet as you followed him.

“You’re being unfair and a really big jerk” he said and he raised his brows, looking at you with a surprised look on his face.

“I’ll give you one chance to take that back” he said with a smirk, pulling a corona out of the cooler and popping it open on the counter with one swift motion before taking a swig. The look dancing in his eyes was mischievous, and you knew you were playing with fire- but that didn’t stop you from loving the feeling of getting burned just a bit.

“No. You’re being a big, mean boyfriend. A jerk. J, e, r, k” you lean in close, your lips nearly touching his as you spelt it out for him. He chuckled darkly, gently rubbing his hand up the small of your back, over your waist, to the back of your head.

He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled your head back roughly, leaving hot, sultry kisses up the column of your throat until he got to your lips, whispering over them the same way you had just a few moments prior. “You’re gonna regret that, babygirl”

“What did I say?” your hips jerked, mound swollen and on fire from the repeated assault of Lips cupped hand spanking your dripping cunt for the last 25 minutes.

“P-please- M’sorry” you sniffled, trying and failing to close your legs to protect your sensitive core from any further punishment. “Don’t- don’t start again- I’ll remember I’ll remember!” you hiccuped a cry as you beg, your teary gaze meeting meeting his in the mirror.

“The next time you forget to count, we’re starting again. Hear me?” He asked, his usual stark blue eyes blown wide and dark with lust. You nodded fervently, swallowing thickly and sniffling

“6- that was six” you said and he used one of his knees that were hooked over yours to spread your legs wider.

“Remember this next time you wanna mouth off in’fronta my friends” he brought his hand down again over your heat in a light smack, causing your hips to buck into his hand and a whiny cry to leave your lips

“S-seven” you mewl, head falling back on his shoulder as you pant at the mixture of pain and pleasure. He tuts and nudges your cheek with his nose

“Y’know what I’m gonna say kitten, you need t’watch er’ it doesn’t count” he said hotly in your ear and you whined, picking your head up and angling it for a kiss

“Gimme kisses” you mutter and he leaned in, causing your eyes to flutter shut and just as you feel his lips brush yours he says

“Who got themself in trouble” onto your lips in a low husky voice. You huff, annoyed he wasn’t giving you what you wanted

“You because you’re the meanest- ah!” You yelp, his hand coming down against your pussy once more.

“Wrong it’s that fuckin mouth. God, y’just don’t learn- and why aren’t you counting, brat?” He said hotly in your ear and you grind up against his hand, trying to get some friction to your aching clit

“Eight- please daddy please I’m sorry I’ll be good I promise I’ll be good” you begged, putting your hand on top of his, guiding his fingers to your dripping core and his jaw fell slack, spreading your lips with his fingers so he could get a better view.

“Holy fuck. No wonder y’such a brat. Y’get off on this mm? You like it when I punish you” he bites down on your neck as he spanks you again and you gasp, squirming against his chest

“N-nine- nine” you cried, smears of black under your eyes from the tears that had gathered at your lash line.

“Good girl, just one more then I’ll give you whatever you want yea?” He kissed your forehead sweetly and you grab his wrist

“Gimme a kiss?” You ask sweetly and pucker your lips.

“Whats the reason you’re being punished?” He asked again, gently kissing your chin as he waited for an answer. You whine and roll your eyes, finally deciding to relent.

“My mouth.” You mutter and he hums in approval before gently grabbing your chin and angling your face to bring you into a sweet kiss that felt like it was much too short before he pulls away and delivers one last spank to your stinging skin making you gasp having not expected it

“Ten” he said for you and you sigh in relief, head falling back on his shoulder and he said softly in the shell of your ear “I think you learned your lesson”

Tag List: @carmenberzattosgf @daysofyellowroses @mouseymilkovich @gallaghersgal @carmybrainworms @l4long-winded @babyspiderling @southsideserendipity @djlnkaled

#lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher x you #TheBearblrPromptober2024!#bearblrpromptober #caprisbearblrpromptober

76 notes · View notes

writingforfishes · 2 months ago

Text

Inducing thoughts

Every morning, I drink my coffee when it's a little too warm and every morning I am disappointed.

Every evening, I drink a carbonated beverage and every evening I am disappointed.

I put a little more spice, sometimes. But no.

I take a little air in and burp it out, perhaps more than normal. But no.

I fake them. I fake them fast. I fake them hard. I fake them soft. I fake them silent. I fake them loud. I fake them muffled.

No.

I let my belches out.

I keep my belches in.

Nope.

I get nervous. I get excited. I laugh. I cry.

I jiggle my belly. I poke under my ribs.

Nothing.

My diaphragm is an impressive being.

My phrenic nerve is sure of its purpose.

My vagus nerve is buried under protection only offering me panic attacks, sneezing from dry bread, and vaso vagal responses from blood as it's expressions of disorder.

My body is assuredly not a fish's body.

My reflex arc for belching is tried and true and never off its mark.

I am stuck with this overly efficient respiratory system.

My disappointment is hilarious.

Maybe one day I'll try sparkling wine again.

But those were not fun days when I couldn't help myself to bury in the lack of care it gave me.

The mornings were the worst.

My only hope is age making things a little less efficient and my diaphragm letting loose a little to offer me some fun.

#hiccups kink #hiccup kink #hiccups #minors dni #18+ mdni #non kink blogs do not reblog #hiccups induction #hiccups induction fails #hiccup inducing musings #i do wonder if a glass of sparkling wine would encourage anything #i'd just have to trust myself to have only one #and prepare for the morning after as age has given me a stronger reaction to the one thing that might be able to induce #inducing hiccups #really hot spicy things aren't worth the blowback #i used to be able to get them from spice plus carbonation but i cured them immediately #i also used to get them from burping more than three times in a row #the silliness of this kink is insane

18 notes · View notes

mylevisdontfitanymore · 8 days ago

Note

Bucky getting gassy and Steve blushing at it>>>

This is so peak, embarrassing belly kink brain rot of an idea but you know what I can not for the LIFE of me stop thinking about that related to gassy burps and hiccups and sloshing gurgles of bubbles moving around in Bucky's bloated, drum-taut belly?

Steve turning Bucky into his personal beer brewery.

Hear me out *grabbing you by the shirt collar* Stay with me *shaking you* You have to hear me out *through gritted teeth* I promise I'm normal 🫣😤

Warning for unbeta'd, unrealistic belly kink nonsense under the read more. Lots of burps/onomatopoeias, bloating, intox kink, alcohol consumption, etc.

I started thinking about Bucky with a beer belly here, getting too drunk to stifle his burps and instead letting them slip through wide open beer-wet lips - loose and slurred - but then I took a nose dive into thinking about Bucky with a beer belly so big that Steve starts teasing him, saying he's a walking waddling barrel, Bucky as a barrel on legs got me thinking of kegs and tanks and, oh, how deep the spiral goes, because now all I can think of is Steve brewing beer inside Bucky's stretched, spherical belly.

He's a waddling, stumbling, clumsy brewery just for Steve.

He soaks in all that alcohol immediately and is destroyed by it. Bucky is hardly able to keep himself upright and definitely not able to walk in a straight line with that wide, round tummy sticking out in front of him, leading the way, entering every room a few seconds before him (if he even fits into the room... lately, a few doorways have been feeling sensuously tight).

His cheeks are constantly flushed a bright red color because he's fucking drunk as shit. Also, his words are mostly incoherent as a tumble of tongue and gassy burps between drawn-out moans of agonizing pleasure from how it feels to constantly be brewing. Pressure. Always growing. Stretching. Straining. Bloating with active bubbles - this carbonation that tickles the inside of his poor, abused stomach, causing him to constantly paw at his tummy, whining because he wants to itch, he wants to scratch, he wants to pop. He feels like he might burst - he looks like he might explode with all the stretch marks painting his flushed, solid belly. It's a lot.

If he isn't panting through moans while he gropes uselessly at his beyond-bloated middle, then he's gurgling through panting breaths, his chest heaving while his gut sloshes and groans, all that gas from the brewing driving him insane. It builds and builds until there's nothing he can do but let his mouth hang open wide and have it come out, rude and obscene, "uuuuuuuuuurp, buuurp, boooorp, urp, hic, uurp! Ugh? Guuh, oof, ow, ohh, ow, m-my-hic!-belly. It huuuurts! Buuurp!"

That's getting ahead of it all, though 🥵

When it starts, Steve makes him begin from the basics. Bucky is going to be good for him as a sweet, fat little personal brewery all for him, totally custom.

The water and yeast go down easy enough, Bucky's more than used to bloating his gut - he'd have to be with as tubby as he's gotten, you don't get so broad and heavy without pushing your limits, yanno - and his eyes go heavily lidded with the familiar taste of baked goods. There's nothing that makes Bucky blush these days like fluffy, warm bread; bread makes him think of being stuffed; Bucky likes being stuffed, and Bucky likes thinking about dough, too. His body is getting doughy enough these days - puffy, plump, and plush. Steve knows it, too, he's always squeezing, grabbing, shaping, and fucking kneading his fat as if it's overproofed dough. Although the barley and hops are a little more rough. The taste is strong - bitting and pungent - so it makes him gag once or twice, but... Bucky's never minded strong tastes, has he?

And he can more than stomach it knowing what the end result will be, something so heavy and massive that he'll struggle against the onslaught of hedonism. He wants that. He's greedy. He wants more. He'll get more until he regrets it, pinned and whimpering. So, he can do it, even if he pulls a face, throwing the pure hops and barley back. There's a reward.

The reward builds up. Fermenting. Pressure inside him. Bulging, swelling, bloating, surging, brewing, there are so many words for the delicious feelings Bucky can't help but weaken in the wake of. It turns him on to no end to be an object for Steve, just something greedy and entitled that needs filling 🥴🥴

It takes cock-teasing weeks to get to the point where he's uncontrollably gassy, burping recklessly, moaning raggedly through hiccups, groaning as his gut burbles, glorps, sloshes with liquid and gas. He enjoys the entire lead up, though - both Steve and Bucky do. The sexual tension of watching Bucky transform into a brewery tank consumes them both with its own kind of gluttony. Every day, they check in, meaning, every day Steve prods his tummy with a sharp, unforgiving finger to find that he's "not full enough," "not tight enough," "not round enough," or even, "not drunk enough," and topping him up so he's exactly all those things and more.

More.

Gulp.

Swallow.

Slosh.

Gurgle.

All that alcohol is an aphrodisiac, too, so not only is he red-cheeked, sweaty, and slurring, he's hypersensitive to every touch. The sensation of his active tummy against his too-tight clothes (when he's wearing them) makes him shudder. Bucky humps against solid that comes into contact with his more and more hidden dick. He can't help it. It feels good, unspeakably fucking pleasurable between the normally arousing friction and the crossed-wires sparks that feeling his full belly jiggle and slosh, too. It's overfull ecstasy. If Steve isn't prodding, groping, or wobbling his bloated gut, Bucky's patting it like it's its own entity. Petting it. Pressing on it. Cradling it. Holding it's heft. Forcing more gas out of himself. Bucky has no thoughts. He's as dumb as a rock, or more fittingly, a keg, living in a haze. Nothing matters, just opening his mouth and swallowing when Steve tells him to chug more water, eat more yeast, down more hops, and have some more barley, too, that's it, good boy.

Uuuurp.

Hnnngh-ghh-hic. Hic. Hic!

Buuuuuuuuurp.

Oooohh.

"Sh-St-Steeeve, 'm shhho full!"

It's heavy, sloshing liquid, fizzing bubbles, and frothing foam bulging his belly so massively. It's good. Distended with all that volume of pure fucking beer. His belly ripples when he shifts - he's shifting less and less, now, too, spreading his legs so fucking wide it makes his thighs ache like the muscles around his ribs ache, trying to keep that gut attached to him as it swells more, dropping down between his legs, putting exquisite pressure on his cock, keeping him moaning. Every inch of him throbs with the brewing process. It's a vibration of pleasure. Complete overfullness. The beer has taken him over. He is nothing but beer. He will ferment, brew, and expand until he bursts. He feels it all the way from the depths of his overstretched intestines to his distended stomach to his overused esophagus. He's full up.

So full.

Beer. Gas. Foam. Foam. Gas. Beer. Beer. Gas. Foam. Foam. Gas. Beer. Beer. Gas. Foam.

Unfathomable fullness.

He's dizzy, euphoric, and sloppy. It's so fucking hot, seeing how far he's stretched and how obedient he's become - folding to anything Steve wants, committed to his ideal of debauchery. And it's not just the burps that he can't keep down the drunker he gets. He can't tamp down belches or any noisy coming from his massive, gassy tummy. It's obscene.

Grrrgle.

Slosh.

Glug-glug.

Fizzzzz.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Rrrrumble.

Hissss.

Buuurp.

Churn.

Booooooooorp.

His belly lets out a deep gurgle, the beer inside sloshing and churning and fizzing as he moaned, "pleazze… fill me mmmngh-more,"

Guuuurgle.

Fizz-fizz.

"Ohhhgod, 's brewingg, inside me, I can feel it - urrrrrp! - I can't stop swelling! Mmmngh!"

"M'gonna loooz'sit... every sslosh, 'very bubble, fizzing, rumbling, buuuuuurp, can feel it building..."

"I'm full of beer, St-Steeeeve, all sl-sl-fuck-sloshy, heavy beer. Buuurp! It's stretchin me'smuch!"

"Noth-thing but a keg." Hiccup! "Fat, swollen keg." Gurgle, moaning, "I can't ssstop."

#ask #mylevisdontfitanymore #belly kink #text #intox kink #alcohol consumption #burping #bloating #beer bloating #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #chubby bucky #urkinkysiss

26 notes · View notes

belching-bellies · 2 years ago

Text

Pizza Date

This is a kink fic! If you're not into the things listed below, it's probably not going to be for you

Contains: burping, belly rubs, mild stuffing, brief alcohol mention, gender-neutral narrator

James and I did go on our real date, and it was so much better than I expected it to be. And I had pretty high expectations. He's so sweet and being with him makes me so happy.

Since then, we've been spending a lot of time together, and it's been great. Physical touch is both of our love languages, and with the amount of cuddling and physical affection, I feel like I'm not touch-starved for the first time in my life.

I haven't told him that I have a thing for his burps, but sometimes when we're cuddling I'll rub his belly and feel the gas rush up into his chest. He usually stifles the belches but I always wish he didn't.

Tonight, we have a date planned. It's gonna be pretty lowkey -- I'm just going over to his place for dinner and a movie. The relationship is still new, so I still get occasional butterflies around him. I want to surprise him, so I stop by the store on the way and pick up a 12-pack of beers. Knowing him, we'll probably finish it by the end of the night.

I get to his apartment and he greets me at the door with a kiss. I resist the urge to push him up against the wall right then -- that can wait until later.

"So what kind of pizza do you want?"

"I like pepperoni but I don't really care. What do you want to get?"

James smiles at me, "It's up to you. I'm getting myself a second pizza."

I look at him in disbelief.

"What?" he says, "you don't think I can eat a whole pizza on my own?"

"I would like to see you try," I tease, but he doesn't know that I would in fact like that very much.

James puts in the order for two pizzas, and we break out the beers while we wait for the food to arrive. Both of us have empty stomachs, so we start to feel a little tipsy after just a couple drinks. We're cuddling on the couch, and I place my hand on his chest. When he drinks, I can feel the fizzy liquid traveling down through his esophagus.

James has never been shy, and he's letting out small burps every so often. Occasionally, I'll respond to one of his belches by patting his stomach lightly.

The pizza eventually does arrive, and when Jason stands up, the movement shakes loose a respectable belch:

"buhh-UURRRRPP"

I'm glad he's walking away by then, because I'm definitely blushing.

James comes back about five minutes later with two pizzas: a pepperoni for me and a supreme for him.

"I've gotta say, James, I will be impressed if you can actually finish this whole pizza"

He grins back at me. "Challenge accepted."

He eats a lot faster than I do, and I wonder if his stomach will be feeling okay later. I think about saying something about slowing down, but I don't. By the time I'm done with my second slice, he's nearly halfway through his pizza.

James sets down his fifth slice, places a hand on the upper part of his belly, and leans back on the couch, breathing a little more shallowly than before.

"You feeling okay, babe?"

"Yeah, I just..." he raises his beer to his lips, takes a couple swallows, then lets out the loudest burp I've ever heard come from him.

"hhhuuUUUURRRRRgghUUUUURRRPPP"

He lets out a sigh of relief, then looks at me. "I- *uurrp* I fucking needed that"

I put my hand on his belly. I can feel it grumbling, struggling to cope with the speed at which he's eating. He hiccups a couple times, then lets out a soft burp. I give his belly a couple of pats, then return to my own beer.

He picks up his slice to continue working on it, but now it's my turn to belch. I can feel the carbonation working its way through my stomach, and I try to stifle the burps behind my fist.

"You know, you don't have to be embarrassed about burping around me. I've been doing it more than you have"

I know this, and I want to tell him that it's different because I'm into it, but I hold myself back. But to prove that I understand his point, I jiggle my belly and work up the biggest belch I can. James nods, looking amused, and cuddles closer to me. I notice that his hand comes to a rest on my slightly bloated belly, and for a second, I wonder if that's on purpose.

The rest of the night goes by uneventfully. We keep eating and drinking, and by the time the movie ends, James has nearly finished his whole pizza. He's slowed down considerably, and as he finishes the second to last slice I can tell his stomach is a lot more bloated than it was an hour ago. He's letting out little burps every couple minutes, ones I can only hear because we're so close together.

"One more slice, you got this babe."

We're both just past tipsy, and I'm feeling a little impulsive.

"I bet I can finish a slice faster than you" This isn't a fair competition, but Jason is competitive and I know he's going to accept. I go easy on him, but I'm still surprised when he beats me.

He lets out a sick-sounding burp through his last bite, then groans and lays back on the couch.

"Okay, I gotta admit that was impressive." I'm telling the truth, but I don't mention that it also turns me on.

James doesn't respond, just grabs my hand and places it on his full, rounded belly. I get the hint, and I start gently rubbing it. I slip my hand under his shirt. The skin feels taut, and I can feel the beer sloshing inside of him every time he repositions. I feel out his stomach with my palms, occasionally pressing into a particularly tight spot. Sometimes, I can feel the trapped gas rush upwards into his throat and then come out as a satisfying-sounding belch.

Eventually, James' burps start to slow down, and I lay down behind him, spooning him, hand on his belly. We eventually fall asleep like that, bellies full, cuddling on his couch.

273 notes · View notes

elacular-kink · 2 months ago

Text

Poly-techhic -4: A Little Lunch and Seltzer AU

So, when I wrote Chapter 4.5, I saw how Olivia teased Susanna and thought "Hey, good idea, character that I write! Let's write that!" So, in this alternate universe version of chapter 4, Susanna is the one who gets the hiccups during their date instead of Kiran. I've also written it twice, once from Kiran's perspective and once from Susanna's. I'll see if I can sorta get both on one post via reblog, but if not I'll double up like I did with the shower story.

The Kiran chapter's first few paragraphs are retreads of part of Chapter 4 to set the scene, so I'll put those in a different color if anyone wants to skip to the new stuff.

Last ramble: This is the last bit of Poly-Techhic I've written so far. That doesn't necessarily mean there won't be more, and it certainly doesn't mean there won't be more hiccup stuff in the future, but my muse is on its contractual lunch break, so I can't say when.

Character Sheet

TW: Anxiety, Painful hiccups, menstruation (mentioned) Kinks: Hiccups, Embarrassment

Susanna and I had just arrived for our date at the French restaurant whose name neither of us could pronounce. The man in the tuxedo looked past me at Susanna as she entered. "We don't wear hoods in this establishment, sir."

"M-ma'am!" I corrected him, blushing.

"It's cool, Kiran," Susanna pulled her hood down and I saw that, rather than laying flat or being mussed like it usually was, her hair looked like it had been styled with gel or spray, a perfect gently punkish messy spikiness to it. As Susanna unzipped her hoodie, I saw that she was wearing a white button-up shirt underneath, the arms cuffed past her elbows in an imitation of short sleeves, and the bottom tucked into her khakis and strapped down with a leather belt. Oh god, she looked so dapper. How was I supposed to cope? "I don't mind what people call me, and I figu—uh..." She'd started tying her hoodie around her waist when the maître d' took it from her and hung it up on a coat rack instead alongside mostly suit jackets. "Uh...yeah. Okay. That works."

The tuxedoed man sniffed and turned. "This way, ma'am and ma'am." He showed us to a small table and placed a set of black leather-bound menus in front of us. "I'll need to see ID if you intend to drink."

"Nah, I'm good. I'll just take water."

"Hmph." He took a note.

The idea of asking for soda in an establishment like this made my stomach ache. I was glad that I had at least managed to eat a little lunch; the idea of that ache making any noise made me feel even more ill. "I-I'll take water as well, please!" The maître d' made a noise I didn't know how to interpret and walked away. Susanna rolled her eyes as he left, and that helped me calm down a little.

For a while, the two of us chatted about the restaurant's (stuffy) atmosphere and its (expensive) appetizers, but it wasn't long before we were interrupted by someone who was, thankfully, not the maître d', and who placed a wine glass of water in front of each of us. "Uh, thanks man," Susanna said. He nodded without saying anything and walked off quickly. "Is this...classy?" She picked up her glass and tilted it around.

"I...suppose? I'll be honest, rules of etiquette were never something I was able to keep track of very well."

"Pff. My god, poor etiquette? You bad girl, you." I could feel myself blushing under her smile. "Well, whether it's classy or not, it'd be weird not to clink these." She held her glass out and I picked up my own and tapped it against hers before I took a sip. I was a bit surprised to realize that it was seltzer, but I supposed that would explain why even the water on the menu had a price.

When I looked back at Susanna, she was swirling the water in her glass and sniffing at it. "Ahh, essence of tap. Hydrogen and...notes of oxygen I presume?"

I stifled a small giggle as she took a sip. "Why yes, with a surprising hint of carbon di—" Before I could finish speaking, Susanna choked and started coughing, putting the glass down as quickly as she could. "—o-oxide? Susanna, are you okay?"

"Yeah—k-kuh, yeah Kiran, I'm fi–*eek!*" A tiny, high-pitched noise forced itself out of her and her eyes went wide. Her face was unbelievably red and she slapped both hands over her mouth. After a split second, she sucked in a breath of air and held it, shutting her eyes tight.

"Susanna?" She opened her eyes and nodded at me, then rocked back silently and shut them again, another tiny noise audible in her throat. She held up one finger and I nodded back, even though she couldn't see me. I couldn't take my eyes off of her though. Every few seconds she kept jolting, and it seemed like they were getting faster and harder. She held her breath for a worryingly long time. I half wished I'd taken out a stopwatch, because it had to be over a minute, probably over two.

Eventually, she let out her breath all in one massive huff, though she kept both hands over her mouth, just barely containing a high-pitched little "*mmp!* S-sorry." Without her bangs or her hoodie on, her cute, flushed face was a little hard to ignore. I kept accidentally meeting her eyes, and they looked almost...scared. "Be right b---back." Without elaborating, she got up and rushed off deeper into the building.

"...okay," I said, long after she had gone. I was barely able to wait five minutes before I felt compelled to pull out my phone. Texting on dates was horribly rude as far as I was aware, but if she wasn't at the table, it seemed like it would be okay? And honestly, I was worried.

Queen of Illusion: YOU BETTER TELL ME HOW THIS SHIT WENT WHEN YOU GET BACK PLEASE TELL ME YOU FUCKIN KISSED HER AND THEN KISS ME (IF YOU WANNA)

Kiran (Kiki): Maya?

Queen of Illusion: WTF are you doing texting me And yeah

Kiran (Kiki): I'm sorry! I didn't know what else to do!

Queen of Illusion: Hold up What stupid shit is Susie doing?

Kiran (Kiki): I don't know! She disappeared deeper into the building!

Queen of Illusion: wait Where the bathrooms are?

Kiran (Kiki): I don't know, maybe?

Queen of Illusion: That mother fucker Gimme 2 seconds ill fix this shit.

Kiran (Kiki): Is she okay? Does she need a pad or a tampon? I carry those.

Queen of Illusion: oh shit thats super helpful tell the whole team that But yea shes fine Just really fuckin stupid I told her to get her ass back to the table or Id throw her switch in a blender And she knows im crazy enough to do it

Maya was still typing, but when I looked up, I saw Susanna coming back over. She looked very small, shoulders pulled in and her head bowed down, and she speed walked over to our table and sat down in her chair with a hyperefficient stiffness. Also stiff was the way she kept jolting backward, her shoulders jumping, her head snapping back, and her whole body rocking. "S---sorry Kiran. *mmk!*"

"It's...fine?" I wasn't sure quite what she was apologizing for. Her face was still unbelievably red. "Are you...are you alright?"

She nodded before her head was abruptly jerked back again. "Got th---the h-hic---cups. Sor---ry."

"...oh!" Oh, that made sense. Susanna must have been sensitive to carbonation like Maya was. Did she not know that about herself? I'd never seen her drink or order soda, so why didn't she say as much when we talked about it?

...actually, considering that Maya was the one who had brought up hiccup triggers, I could see why she would want to keep that to herself right then.

"Oh, okay. N-nothing you need to be sorry for, Susanna. D-do you want me to try and get you some regular water?" She looked up at me and nodded slightly. "Alright...alright." I looked around for a waiter who didn't look busy. The restaurant wasn't crowded, and the maître d' had left his post to wander among the tables doing...honestly, it wasn't clear to me at all what he was doing besides occasionally staring at us in an intimidating manner. But I couldn't see any other employees who weren't occupied, and Susanna looked so uncomfortable and was jolting so hard. So I steeled myself as best I could, straightened up, rolled my shoulders back, and then walked over to the man in the tuxedo. "Excuse me, sir." He sniffed at me. I wanted to shrivel up and disappear, but I forced my back to stay straight. "My—" Wait, shit, what was I supposed to call her? Fuck fuck fuck—

No! No panicking right now. She needs you.

"My date would like some still water, and I'd prefer to get it sooner rather than later."

He stared at me. I was glad I'd straightened up. It gave me an inch or two on him, and he clearly didn't like that. "...off-menu requests cost extra."

Susanna better not have heard that. "That's fine. And I'll tip for a prompt delivery." He sniffed, then walked back towards the kitchen, and I walked back over to our table and sat back down. As soon as I was in the chair, I slumped again, and I felt Susanna's hand land on mine. I smiled at her, or at least tried to. "I'm alright, Susanna. Hopefully, we'll get you some water soon."

She exhaled softly and nodded. "Th---thanks." There was an audible thump in her chest and she rubbed her sternum, looking pained. Her little body was being so violently rocked...I really did wonder if she was going to hurt herself. And her face still looked so red and feverish.

The not-exactly-silence that fell between us felt horribly awkward. "Well, I...suppose that you'll need some of Olivia's hair now." She stared at me, and at least her looking confused was better than her looking scared and in pain. "F-for your voodoo doll. It stopped working. It's not transferring your hiccups right now." After a moment, she smiled. Susanna smiled and she shook with quiet, soft laughter and it made me feel like I was glowing.

Then she "*HNK!*—nnf!" jerked back harder and shut her eyes tight, rubbing her throat.

"Susanna, are you in pain?" She looked at me and shrunk in on herself before she nodded. "Is holding your hiccups back causing that? Would letting them out help?" She cringed, then motioned for me to come over. I joined her on her side of the table and saw that her spasms were throwing her hard into the uncomfortable-looking back of her chair. I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I put both of my hands on her shoulders and gripped them. With her next hiccup, I just barely managed to keep her from hitting the back of the chair again. God, she was so strong. Her whole body was so unbelievably strong. And she was looking back and up at me. "I—um, sorry, is this okay?" She nodded again, and my heart rate slowed at least a little. "You're being shaken so hard, I just...thought this could help."

She turned away and shook with almost silent laughs again. "S---sweet." Before I could stammer out a request to elaborate on that, she took out her phone and started typing on it, holding it awkwardly high so I could easily read from behind her.

Susie Q(eer): That'd help, yeah, but I don't think the people around here would appreciate it. Especially not tuxedo douche.

"I-I don't care about that!" That came out of me louder than I meant it to, but I ignored my blush, just lowering my voice as best I could. "Certainly not more than I care about your well-being." After a moment, she put a hand on one of mine and gently nuzzled into one of my arms. I may not have trusted my ability to comprehend body language, but I felt safe assuming that whatever this was was very affectionate. My heart clearly felt safe assuming that, considering how it was bursting and melting all at once.

"Erm, your still water, ma'ams." Our waiter came over and placed a glass of water in front of Susanna, who quickly grabbed it and took a large swig. Unfortunately, barely a half-second later, she jerked back into my hands again. "Also," the waiter was cringing. "Um, other patrons have requested that you please take your seat, ma'am."

"I—" I wasn't sure what to do, but before I could worry too much about it, Susanna gently patted my arm and gestured for me to go back to my seat. She jerked back into me again before I could, though. Her hiccups were so strong..."No, I don't believe so." The waiter blinked at me, and Susanna was looking up, shocked. I gently pulled her to her feet, keeping a hand on her back. "This restaurant isn't what I was hoping it would be. I'm sorry, Susanna. Please let me take you somewhere better suited to the two of us."

I walked over to the maître d' and paid with one of my least important credit cards. This place didn't deserve the dignity of giving me gold points. "Don't forget your companion's...jacket."

"Of course. Thank you, sir." I put as much venom in my voice as I could, then took Susanna's hoodie and helped put it on her before wrapping an arm around her shoulders again. There wasn't really a need to do that, but she wasn't complaining. She even leaned further into me once we were outside again.

Despite those actions, I heard Susanna sigh. "I'm s---sorry, Ki–*EEK!*–Nnuuh!" She covered her face with both hands, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"N-no, I'm sorry!" I shook away my giggles as best I could before sighing. "I'm...sorry for laughing, for one. You're just..." I could feel my face warming. "...You're just really cute."

"Mnnf. *HMK!*" She leaned into me more, and my nerves kept pulling giggles out of me.

"But beyond that, I'm...I'm sorry about that restaurant. I wanted to take you somewhere that...that you might not have been to a place like yet. A-and I know that I'm very privileged with how much access to money I have, so that's something that I can provide you if we go on a date together and—"

"'Prov---provide me'?" Susanna squinted up at me. "You–*HOOP!*–Nn!" She covered her face again and I couldn't help it. I just pulled her into my arms and against me. She was so cute. Her back jolted into me, and for once it felt really nice to have such a soft belly for her to hiccup into instead of something hard that could hurt her. She made more tiny noises, then pulled her face out of her sleeve-covered hands. "...*MMK!* You don't ha---have to provide---nnnghf. *MMK* Provide me anyth–*UK!* th-thiiiing. Fuck."

"But I want to." I realized that we had idly walked to a small park block and looked at the nearest bench. It looked uncomfortable, especially the back, and I sat down on it and confirmed that fact. I couldn't let Susanna sit and hiccup back into that. But what other option— "...Susanna? Would you like to..." I uncertainly patted my lap.

The light was too dim to be sure, but I thought her face went even redder. Even so, she nodded. "S---sure, but–*HNK!* d-don't let m---me hurt you."

"I won't." I hoped I'd be able to keep that promise if need be, but more than that, I really really really hoped I wouldn't have to. She slowly, gently eased onto my lap, and I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her back against me. She was so small in my grasp. "...but just to be sa–OOF!" I was shocked by the force one of her spasms pushed back with. "S-safe, you should stop holding your hiccups in." After a long moment and a few rough jolts, she nodded. I could hear and feel her start to breathe more deeply, seeming to have to make an active effort not to try and mute herself. High-pitched *HEEK*s and *HNK*s and *HK-llp*s squeaked out of her, but her motions were far gentler, more bounces than jerks. One of my arms was resting on her stomach while the other had ended up across her thighs (which I really hoped she didn't notice or object to) and it was interesting just how much I felt her move, and how much more fluid even her herky-jerky hiccup motions were now that she wasn't trapping everything inside of her chest. "Yeah. There you go. Good—" My face practically lit on fire as I realized what I was about to say, and I buried it in the back of her hood. But I couldn't not finish my sentence. "Good...good girl."

After a split second, I felt her laughing against me. Her chuckles came tangled up with hiccups, but I didn't mind, and it seemed like, at least to an extent, she didn't either. Once her laughter calmed, she sighed. "S'just emb–*UCK* emb-barrassing. *HNK-lk*."

I sighed back. "I can see why. I'd be mortified." It took me too many seconds to realize what I'd just said. "N-not that I'm saying you should be! Y-you don't need to be embarrassed, Susanna, I just—" I hid my face in the back of her hood again, glad that the hiccups mostly moved her chest and torso rather than snapping her head back. "I just understand why you would be. B-but you don't need to be. It's just the hiccups. And you shouldn't have to hold them back any more than Olivia does."

Susanna made a noise I didn't know how to interpret. "Oliv---via has to h–*OLK*–g-guh. Hold them ba–*UCK* all the time. *HMK!* I'm...*hmp*." She leaned forward and pulled down her hood, resting her head against my chest afterward, and I wondered if she could feel exactly what that was doing to my heart. "I'm lucky, in a way. *HMK-mmp* To be someo–*UK* someone she doesn–*nnt* have to hide ar–*HUP* around." She hummed softly, and I could see her purse her lips. "*hmk* Never really tho–*UCK* thought about it like tha–*hup* that before."

"About what?"

Even under the dim light, I could see how red her cheeks had gone. "Ah...ah–*HUP*–p-puh...It's kind–*AUK* kinda hard to expl–*HUCK* explain."

"I suppose most things would be with a case of the hiccups like that."

Her face...her face was still so flushed. "Yeah. *hmp*. Not having the–*eek-up* these would definitely make it easier. *hmk*. Do you..." She shook in my arms with a few nearly silent hiccups. "...do you thi–*ic*–ink we could stay like thi–*ic-olp*–this until they're gone? *hmk-mmp*. I'll tell you af---after that."

I simultaneously hoped that she stopped hiccuping in the next few seconds and that this case never went away. But either way, I loved getting to have her body against mine, no matter how it was moving. "That sounds good to me. Thank you, Susanna."

"No. *hmk.* Thank you, Kiran," she said. After that, we just sat in the park together while she hiccuped, and I thought that made for a far better date than the restaurant ever could have.

#hiccups #hiccup kink #hiccups kink #my writing #hiccup story #Poly-techhic #Poly-techhic AU #Can't believe that's a tag I'm making #Eli's kink writing

14 notes · View notes