#honey not vinegar
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
biteofcherry · 11 months ago
Note
FOR NEW YEAR'S EVA...
Honey and vinegar... how's are that omega and her dark alpha?
Ohh, he's so good at being bad. Because he's not really a bad Alpha. He's dark, manipulative and cunning, but not mistreating his omega. Well, at least he makes her believe so.
Honey Not Vinegar
Tumblr media
Strokes of your pencil were harder and twitchy as you peeked at Steve above the edge of your sketching pad.
While the Alpha usually made you feel safe, you still feared picking certain topics with him. Particularly, the topic of your brother or father. But you couldn't help the gnawing need to ask.
Steve, who was sitting on the bed beside you, his broad back leaning against the headboard as he read a book. something so mundane, so... domestic, yet it was still the super soldier with lethal skills. An Alpha most potent and powerful, on top of that.
"What is it, little one?" He asked, eyes not leaving the page he was reading.
"Nothing," you blurted, quickly shifting your gaze back to your drawing.
Steve didn't sigh, but he took a deep breath. He marked the page and set the book aside on the night table. Then he was reaching for you; picking you up and manhandling you to sit on his lap while he caged you in his steel strong arms.
"Omega," his voice was laced with a warning growl, "do not lie to me. However difficult it may be, it's important to be honest with your Alpha."
You clutched your sketchpad to your chest as your eyes locked with Steve's.
"I-" you started, "I wondered if you caught Caleb and if I could visit him, if he's imprisoned."
A muscle in Steve's jaw ticked, but otherwise he remained calm. Which should be comforting, especially since your omega hindbrain half expected an outburst of objection.
He moved one of his hands to cup the side of your face, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip. It was such a tiny gesture, a soothing one, but the way his thumb moved along your lip caused your defenses to yield to a jolt of something more primal. As if Steve was luring your brain to lose its focus on the matter and instead make it think of more carnal urges.
"Now why would I let you see him?" Steve asked softly, sliding his hand down your neck and pressing against your still unmarked mating gland.
"He's my brother-" you couldn't help the hitch in your breath.
"Who hurt you. Who used your loyalty to hide from justice." Steve's hand was a heavy warmth against your pulse, tempting you with safety and comfort that would come if he bonded you. Which he would do, if you remained his good omega.
"I admire your integrity, little one. To still care for family, even when they treated you like a pawn for their own gains."
"It may be considered naive by some," the jab was veiled in tone of awe. "People would see it as typical omega's dumb brain, unable to see the true dangers until their Alpha points it out and makes the right choice for them."
"But I see it as a sign of your nurturing nature."
Steve's other hand slipped beneath the hem of the shirt you were wearing - his shirt, soaked with his scent. Skin to skin contact was making your brain go fuzzy; your arguments defending your family's treatment of you dispersing away.
"It fills me with pride to think how loyal and caring you will be for our family, one day."
"Our family?" You gasped, eyes widening as you stared up at him.
Ever since Steve brought you out of the prison cell and into his suite, he's been establishing the idea of you becoming his omega. You were accepting him as your Alpha. Even becoming agitated that he hasn't claimed you fully yet.
Steve said there's time and place for that. While it sounded respectful and charmingly old fashioned to wait, your instincts told you that he actually meant a particular time.
Your heat, undoubtedly.
But he hasn't mentioned the full picture of it, until now.
"Yes, little one." As Steve smiled at you, with that brilliant, sweet poster boy charm, you melted into his embrace fully.
"I've been imagining it, you know." He pulled you to him, so that your cheek rested on his shoulder and your nose touched the crook of his neck, inhaling his Alpha scent.
His fingers kept caressing up and down your back. With each stroke and each whiff of his smell, your mind turned into a sponge absorbing his words like a sacred truth.
"Imagining you and our kids. How I would love you and care for you. How far I'd go to ensure you're safe at all times. You know that providing safety is crucial for an Alpha."
You didn't pick up on the fact he was speaking of his needs, though reshaping them to sound like concern for your future.
"It guts me to think I couldn't protect you-"
Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around Steve's middle and chirped for him soothingly.
"-so to think of you being in the same space with that bastard of a brother of yours? It pains me. You understand that, little one?"
"Yes, Alpha." You rubbed the tip of your nose along his mating gland.
"I knew you would." Steve tipped his head down to kiss your temple. "You're such a sweet, perfect omega."
392 notes · View notes
swagsmeister · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
partners in real estate AND in life!
761 notes · View notes
ionaillustration · 7 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
real bby boy hours 🍊
⭐️ my comms are open!! ⭐️
555 notes · View notes
chawliekin · 7 months ago
Text
and if I said that dennis’ insistence on being the breadwinner/provider despite literally being a pampered princess who dgaf about traditional roles of masculinity in every other regard (aside from ego) is because his mom only stayed with/chose frank for his wealth and dennis is highly aware that he’s difficult to love and unable to show his emotions openly so he has to be contributing something to the relationship materially in order to feel like he’s worth staying for… and mac grew up with parents who were extremely ambivalent to him and eachother so he has to overcompensate by proving his worth at every given moment and seeking praise/validation from people (and religious icons) who will never demonstrate the same amount of dedication to him but he has no idea how else to desperately keep himself close to those he loves other than by eroding himself into something they’ll approve of… dear god they’re both exactly what the other needs — someone who can’t and won’t leave them even if they try — and they don’t even see it…
493 notes · View notes
foodfuck · 10 months ago
Photo
Tumblr media
charred baby bell peppers with burrata · half baked harvest
781 notes · View notes
burr-ell · 6 months ago
Text
also, just as a general rule, "how dare you like [thing that isn't my thing] instead of focusing on [thing i like]" has the exact opposite effect you're looking for. people won't see the error of their ways and start liking what you want them to; they'll think you're a tar pit.
597 notes · View notes
mattw83 · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Miraculous Tales Chapter 15 -  PG20
Sometimes a little sweetness goes a long way to temper the vinegar within.
A tale of how Chloe’s many false starts in life were just the beginning to a real redemption of heart and hero.
With the surprise glances done, it's time to rock and roll!!
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 -   Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 -    Chapter 10   - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 -
DeviantArt
PREVIOUS <<< - >>> NEXT
212 notes · View notes
fattributes · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Peach Prosciutto and Burrata Sandwich
161 notes · View notes
chrliekclly · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
211 notes · View notes
last-starry-sky · 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media
kinktober day 14 - makeup sex
price x f!reader
[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1.2k, established relationship, mentions of fighting (nothing physical), NONCON: somno, nipple-play, dry-humping, fingering.]
tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass
Tumblr media
“Fuck off,” had been the last thing you yelled at him, tears in your eyes as you slammed the door in his face. Maybe if you hadn’t been so heated, brain a tempest of emotion, heart pounding in your chest, throat hoarse from a long shouting match, you would have noticed how eerily calm he had become. You stood in the entryway catching your breath, waiting for him to start shouting outside, to pound on the door. Something. Anything.
All you heard was his car start and then cooly drive away. No slammed doors. No revved engine. No tires peaching away. You swallowed hard, still gasping at air as you let your back fall against the cool metal of the door. For the next few minutes you waited like that. Waited for him to come back, for the sound of his engine rumbling back up the driveway, for him to demand you open the door, for you to talk to him. 
But that never happened. You wiped your tears away and got on with the shameful task of cleaning up the house after your fight. You went room by room. You swept up plaster dust from the hole John had punched in the kitchen wall and glass from he candle you’d smashed in the bathroom. The clean up didn’t take long, but it left you emotionally exhausted. Your heart still thrummed in your chest, adrenaline flushing your cheeks. 
You knew you should get the hard part over with, should get packing his things and maybe send him a text to let him know when to pick everything up. Maybe you could even convince him to leave his key too. You huffed as you stared at your disheveled reflection in the mirror. You should be an adult about this, but you didn’t want to. You wanted to shower and curl up in bed and forget this whole mess. You had a silent hope he would just ghost you, but you laughed at it. Men, actual mature men with careers, didn’t do shit like that.
You couldn’t remember a time you’d been this tired. You snuggled up with a pillow in your arms (not John’s, certainly not) and fell into a death-like sleep. 
The mattress creaking under his bulk in the middle of the night gave him away. It scared you, and for a moment you considered confronting him, trying to get away, maybe calling the police. Not that you could do anything now. Even if you tried, you would have to scramble out from under the sheets and try to bolt for the door before he could intercept you. As he lay down at your side, you steeled yourself, ready to endure. There was no point in running, and you knew it. 
You kept your eyes closed and steadied your breathing, pretending to sleep. He shuffled up behind you, pulling you into his arms to spoon against his chest. You could feel his heart beating. His hands were gentle on your arms, stroking continuously over your shower soft skin. His face pressed into the crown of your head, breath ruffling your hair, breathing in your shampoo. All gentle, stupid things he had done early in your relationship. Things you had spat in anger not five hours ago that he never did anymore. 
“Don’t want to fight,” he whispered, kissing behind your ear, making you shiver, as he continued to massage your arms. “Don’t want to lose you. Love you.” 
You didn’t respond, only clutched your pillow to your chest and metered your breathing. He wasn’t drunk from what you could smell, which was strange. You could usually only get him to say “I love you” when he had a few pints in him. There was maybe a hint of that pungent cigar smoke, most likely from hotboxing in his car, something that you loathed, as he continued to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 
“Love you, baby. Love you so much. Don’t want-” He stopped to suck in a shuddering breath, hand clenching on your bicep. “Don’t want this to be the end. We’re stronger than this.” He nuzzled your neck, beard pricking your skin, forcing an involuntary shiver. 
“Come on, love. Talk to me,” he grumbled, one rough hand on your jaw forcing your head to face him. You stubbornly kept your eyes closed. You weren’t going to give him an inch. You knew better.
He proved you right immediately, reaching down to stroke at your breasts, kneading at your perked nipples. You don’t think he saw your brows scrunch together in frustration, trying your hardest to suppress any reaction or sound. He was too busy pressing his face to yours, huffing long, tired breaths over your heated skin. You bit your lip when his other hand began to pet your pussy, working you up just the way you liked it. The way only he could. 
“You asleep?” he asked. Your mostly impassive face must not have been a bother for him, because he groaned against your lips while his hands plucked at your buds, core dripping around his fingers. 
“Please, lovie,” he whined, planting a delicate kiss over your lips. The contrast of his butterfly-light kiss with the thrust of his trapped cock against your hip was not lost on you. “Please just, fuck- lookit me. Lemme-” he groaned again, his fingers swirling against the soaked cloth of your underwear in time with his thrusts. “Lemme make this right.”
You remained rigid, holding onto your pillow until John apparently had enough. He ripped it out of your grasp, making your arms fall to your chest. The next thing you felt was him rolling over you, his thick, muscled thigh taking the place of his hand pressed to your sopping core, the dry skin of his fingers tracing over your cheek and jaw.
“Baby. Love. Please,” he pleaded, a gentle kiss following each word until he met your lips. His hand on your jaw pressed into your cheek, forcing your mouth open. Your eyes shot open in shock as he pressed into your mouth, lapping and sucking at your own languid tongue. He groaned, rolling his clothed hips against yours.
“Can feel you,” he whispered, a dark edge, like a threat, in his voice as he broke from his kiss. “So wet. Always so wet for me,” he continued, fingers fumbling to pull your underwear to the side, exposing your hole to him. Two of his thick fingers were quickly thrust inside you. His mouth pressed to your ear, making you hear every wanton noise he made. 
“Easier if you just listened to your cunt, lovie,” he growled in your ear, punctuating his statement with a bite on the lobe of your ear and a curl of his fingers inside you. He landed with perfect placement right on the spot that always had you shuddering, crying and begging to cum. “She knows what she wants. Knows I can give it to her. Smart little thing.”
You opened your eyes again, tears blurring your vision. John kissed your cheek, purring as he thrust against the push of your hip again. 
“Theeeere’s my smart girl,” he said, voice all smiles and sing-song, as his thumb swiped a circle around your clit, his fingers pumping again.
67 notes · View notes
daily-deliciousness · 2 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media
Baked brie with roasted strawberries
1K notes · View notes
biteofcherry · 2 years ago
Note
https://at.tumblr.com/y3s-d4ddy/700824092199272448/vjvdrujr6ihl
Screams Steve
Which Steve, though? 👀
It fits most (if not all) of his versions, but did you have a specific one in mind?
Tumblr media
GOT Alpha!Steve buckles you in every time you get in a car, makes sure you hydrate and eat (especially when your heat brain forgets about the importance of it), asks you to be his good girl/good omega as he puts your through the filthiest, embarrassing stuff.
Mafia!Steve is the one to zip you up (and unzip you too), drop down to his knee to tie your shoe, or just pick an outfit for you and put it on you with care and some teasing; likes to hand feed you and will open bottles/cans for you.
HNV Alpha!Steve makes sure you hold onto him (his hand, his waist, his utility belt) all the time when you're out; not only asks you to be a good girl for him, but reminds you that it's fulfilling to be a good omega for him; he'll hand you a water bottle, or randomly buy a pastry and hand it to you.
Sweet, but slightly condescending nicknames and tilting your chin up to look him in the eye - all of them, all of my future Steves too; because I'm a whore for the chin lifting thing and nicknames 🥺🥵
122 notes · View notes
denfucker · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
reviving myself just to say HELLO EXCUSE ME WHAT THE FUCK?????? WHAT THE FUCK.
712 notes · View notes
morethansalad · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Sushi Bagel Donuts (Vegan)
72 notes · View notes
charmac · 5 months ago
Text
Honestly I've been really unsure/washy on where Macdennis will go for Season 17 after the whole Johnny incident, but Anna's art has kind of settled me in the idea of where they'll land.
It's once again Mac's turn to be on the offensive of their relationship. Dennis got to fuck him, without him understanding it was Dennis, and his two braincells are going to finally bump together and understand (to a certain degree) that Dennis wants to be with him when they're not Mac and Dennis.
And he'll interpret that badly and do something stupid, probably, but I think (hope) Dennis will recognise that he gets it and enjoy playing along and this time they'll both get off
69 notes · View notes
mydevotiontostyle · 1 year ago
Text
Sometimes I forget dennis calling mac "baby boy" is an actual thing that happened in canon and not just something everyone started including in their fanfics
197 notes · View notes