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#share your thoughts on grapes
morethansalad · 2 years
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Grapes (Vitis spp.)
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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file #5: the lactation fic.
part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.
pairing: yandere!sukuna x reader (jjk).
length: 1.8k.
warnings: afab!reader, heian era sukuna, vaguely dubious consent, lactation (not the way you’d expect though), fem!dom, verbal degradation (m. receiving), breast milk, and mentions of death/cannibalism.
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If you could say you’d learned anything about Sukuna, it would have to be that he was not the kind of man you could expect predictability from.
That was, if you could even call him a man at all. It would be more accurate to say that he was not the kind of monster you could expect predictability from, which made sense – monsters were rarely known for having a rational motivation for their senselessness. With Sukuna, though, it was less that you were forced to guess how violent he’d be and more whether he’d be violent with you at all. It was as common for him to demand that you spend the afternoon laying on a shady riverbank, feeding him honey and grapes, as it was for him to threaten to gut you like cattle should you make one more snide comment about the bloodstains his constantly wandering hands tend to leave on your clothes. His other servant, the inexpressive butcher who spoke to you rarely and reeked constantly of blood, claimed to be able to find a pattern to the chaos, but whatever knowledge they might’ve gleaned over their time with him, they’d never seen fit to share with you. You found your own ways of coping, though.
Like right now, for instance – as you hung limply over Sukuna’s shoulder, kept in place only by the hand pressing into the small of your back. Despite the way his arm bit into your stomach, a slight scowl that’d been playing on his lips when he snatched you away from what you’d been doing, you did your best to keep your mind empty, your thoughts limited to a blank ambiance. If there was as good of a chance that he was going to kill you and feast on your decaying flesh as there was that he simply needed someone to fix yet another tear in his favored yukata, you didn’t want to make it worse for yourself by panicking prematurely.
Still, you were vaguely aware of the passing scenery as he hauled you through grand, vacant halls and into the master’s chambers. Sukuna would find a place to dwell wherever he roamed, whether that meant sleeping in a damp cave or on a bed of woven cloud and quail feathers, but a part of you was undeniably (and guiltily) glad that he had a clear preference for the latter. Currently, you were biding your time until Sukuna’s next feeding spree in a palace that used to belong to a wealthy merchant; a merchant whose organs were, if memory served, currently being divided into portions and dried on a rack of—
You were pulled out of your thoughts as Sukuna dropped you onto a bed of down-stuffed pillows and silk sheets. Wordlessly, he fell beside you and, using his lower set of arms, hauled you onto his chest, forcing you to straddle his abdomen. With only a slight huff, a roll of your eyes, you settled into place – bracing your hands on his midriff. “My lord, I have other obligations to—”
“I am the only obligation you should be paying any mind to.” His tone was clipped, his voice gruff. Clearly, he was in one of his poorer moods, today. “Get on with it” he barked, making with a vague gesture to his upper chest. “I don’t have all day, brat.”
You spared a half-second to scan over him. He treated you like a tailor, among other things, but at the moment, his chest was bare, and this wasn’t exactly comparable to the countless times he’d dropped the tattered shreds of a kimono or yukata into your lap and told you to make something more or less wearable. “I… I’m afraid I don’t exactly know what I’m supposed to be doing, sir.”
He rolled his eyes, and you bit back the urge to return his irritation. “Y’know, just…” Another gesture to his chest, this one shortly followed by a disappointed, breathy noise. “Empty them out. It’s starting to get uncomfortable, again.”
Empty them…?
Again, you glanced down, your attention landing on the swell of his chest. He was always sickeningly bulky, prone to wearing his strength on the layers of muscle blanketing his biceps and thighs, but his chest did seem more swollen that it normally was, now that you thought to look, the usually hardened flesh visibly more plush, more tender. You shifted your weight, your fingertips digging into the swell of his right pec, and you felt something warm and wet trickle over the back of your hand and onto the velveteen cushions below you.
Sukuna let out an airy groan, and your mind went entirely blank.
Reflexively, you tried to pull away, but Sukuna had always been faster than you. His hand was wrapped around your wrist before you could so much as break contact, keeping your palm pressed into his pec (breast?). “Don’t act like such a baby. It’s a task even an idiot could manage.” With his hand draped over your own, he ground the heel of your palm into the plush of his pec, and this time, you weren’t lucky enough to look away in time – your eyes falling to his chest as a thin stream of a surprisingly white, surprisingly thick fluid dribbled out of his nipple in short, stilted bursts. Milk, your mind filled in, against your will. Except, it couldn’t be. Sukuna wasn’t human. Sukuna wasn’t supposed to be able to do that.
More out of curiosity than anything, you pressed your palm down again with just a little more force, a little less trepidation. The jet was stronger, this time, and Sukuna’s eyes closed, his lips soon drawn into a thin line only occasionally parting to let out a deep breath or raspy groan. His hand dropped away entirely as you fell into a steady kneading pattern – both of his upper arms soon crossed above his head, as he often did when he was lounging in a particularly entrancing patch of sunlight, while their lower counterparts remained on your waist. “Use both hands,” he grunted, and not bothering to suppress your scowl, you did. Soon enough, milk (because, as unsettling as it was, you just didn’t know what else to call it) frothed steadily, painting both sides of his chest with unorganized streaks of splotchy white – delicate ribbons spread over a canvas of ink and scars.
Despite yourself, you found yourself focusing on that. The word, almost jarringly quaint, repeated in the back of your mind; milk, milk, milk. Almost in a trance, you found yourself bowing your head, lowering yourself until your chest was slotted against his. After making sure his eyes were still closed, his attention still on the steady movement of your hands, you ran the flat of your tongue over his left nipple and—
Oh.
It was sweet.
His hand was on the back of your head in an instant, but you were already latched on – your lips sealed around his nipple, sucking harshly. There wasn’t a point trying to be gentle with Sukuna, not when you’d seen him take spears to heart without so much as a wayward flinch, but any passing temptation to veer towards delicacy was quickly forgotten as thick fingers knotted themselves in your hair, a reverberating moan tearing past his lips as you lapped and suckled, letting whatever you couldn’t swallow down flood out of the corner of your mouth. He could’ve pried you away, if he’d wanted to, could’ve torn off your head with little more than a flick of his wrist, but all he offered was a weak – pathetic – tug, a few garbled curses spat under his breath. “Brat,” he hissed, as you drank greedily. “Just— Just do your damn job and—”
“You’re so fucking loud,” you muttered, pulling back just far enough to be audible. “For once in your life, would it kill you to be quiet?”
You couldn’t see him, but you’d seen him baring his teeth often enough to recognize his tone. “Know your place, huma—”
You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Before you could think better of it, you braced yourself and bit down, burying your teeth into the tender meat of his chest. You tasted blood, heard Sukuna moan, and felt his body jolt underneath you, hips jutting against yours as something long and thick twitched against your ass. You pulled away as quickly as you could, already grinning. “Are you…?
“Be quiet.”
He was. You could feel his cock against your ass - already hard, already pulsing. Or, his cocks, rather, both standing stiff against his lower stomach despite the loose fabric of his robes. Carefully, you shifted back, straddling his thighs, as you slowly removed the thin sash sitting low on his waist, as you dragged the silken fabric aside in favor of wrapping your fist around the thicker of his paired cocks; your fingers barely grazing each other where they were supposed to overlap. “No wonder you’re always so temperamental,” you went on, speaking slowly, giving him every chance to cut you off, to throw you to the side, to tear you limb from limp. He only scowled, though, only pouted, clenching his eyes shut as thick beads of arousal blotted and dripped over the back of your hand. “To think the King of Curses would get this hard from some powerless human sucking on his leaking tits… You must be so pent up, you just don’t care who touches you, huh?”
His hold on your hips tightened, threatening to bruise. You barely noticed, already distracted by the slight tremble in his bottom lip, the pitchy whine that escaped his grit teeth as you shifted your weight onto your knees and aligned the blunt, flushed tip of his cock with your entrance. You took measured seconds to lower yourself onto him, ignoring the burning stretch in favor of focusing on the heat of it, the immediate and overwhelming fullness. You’d barely gotten the head of his cock inside of you when you stopped, going completely still. A second passed before Sukuna seemed to notice, another before one of his many eyes flickered open – immediately landing on you.
It was barely a whisper, a breath. He was mumbling, as much as you knew Sukuna would loathe you for accusing him of something so meek aloud. “Do your—” A bubbling groan, a hitched gasp as your pussy clenched around him. “Do your damn job, brat.”
Your attempts to bite back your wide, beaming smile were only half-successful. “It would be my pleasure, my lord.”
You rolled your hips as you lowered yourself back to his height, trapping his unsheathed cock between your body and his as your mouth found its way back to his nipple. It was barely another minute before he was swearing, groaning, bucking into you from below in short, stilted thrusts – like he was afraid of so much as coming close to slipping out. It was all you could do to stay concentrated on the task at-hand, to stop your mind from wandering from the taste on him on your tongue, the feeling of his cock throbbing inside your pussy. Still, you found the time to allow yourself a single, self-indulgent thought – one so ridiculous and so simpering that you couldn’t help but laugh against his skin.
Maybe, just maybe, there were sides of Sukuna that weren’t so difficult to predict, after all.  
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iicehoon · 5 months
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GOSSIP SESSION | BF !MARK X READER ︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨♡୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶
"Let me get this straight: instead of Nate, Monica is now going out with Austin?" Mark leaned against the kitchen counter, echoing the information you had just shared.
You nodded, munching on grapes. "Yep. After leading Nate on for 5 months, she ditches him for Austin," you said, causing your boyfriend's jaw to drop as he grabbed the popcorn bag and poured it into a bowl.
"Wait, isn't that crazier because you told me April was in love with Austin or something?" Mark interjected.
"Because she still is!" you exclaimed, throwing your head back with laughter. "Monica is so fun to hang out with, but her choices sometimes leave me questioning her, like I never thought she would do something like that between a friend group"
"Yo," Mark paused, pulling out his phone. "Weren't we planning a group hangout for this weekend?" Your eyes widened at the reminder. "Oh my god," you groaned, glancing at your phone. "Babe, you're so right."
"I say we go," Mark chimed in, munching on popcorn. "If the tension gets crazy awkward, I'll come up with an excuse that we have to meet up with my parents or I'll say that Haechan put a fork into our microwave or something like that."
"Praying something kinda does happen because then it would be great entertainment at least" He shrugged.
"Have I ever told you that you're so handsome, smart, charming, and amazing?" You walked over to him, a smile playing on your lips. He giggled in reply.
"Once in a while, but hearing it now is great," he said, laughter bubbling up as you peppered his cheeks with kisses.
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pucksandpower · 1 year
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Grid Kids: y/n pregnency!!
Grid Kids: Bun in the Oven
Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers
Summary: moments with the grid kids during your pregnancy
Series Masterlist
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Kicking Up a Storm
“Did the little one just ...” Charles’ eyes widen as he pulls back his hand abruptly from where it had been resting on your stomach.
Lando, lounging on the other side of the room with a video game controller in hand, smirks, “Did what? Tried to escape? Can’t blame it, considering the rest of its siblings."
You swat playfully at Lando as Max and George, engrossed in assembling a nursery chair, look up in anticipation. “Come on, let us feel!” Max pleads, abandoning the chair pieces on the floor.
As everyone gathers around, taking turns to gently place their hands on your baby bump, you feel a flutter, a gentle kick responding to their touch. The room fills with gasps of wonder and joy.
“Feels like a future driver if you ask me,” George grins, looking at Sebastian, who chuckles, already imagining another Vettel on the tracks.
Lance, feeling a tad left out, decides to jump in. “Can it hear us? Hello in there, it’s your brother Lance! Remember to pick me as the fun brother, okay?”
Mick, who has been reading every pregnancy book he could get his hands on, chimes in, “You do realize the baby can’t differentiate voices yet, right?”
Lance waves him off, “Details, details.”
Cravings Are No Joke
“Pickles and chocolate? Seriously?” Max raises an eyebrow, holding up the two seemingly mismatched items as he stands in the middle of a grocery store aisle.
Lance, pushing the cart, shrugs. “Don’t question the cravings, just go with it.”
Charles, scrolling through the list on his phone, adds, “Oh and don’t forget the spicy ramen, blueberry pie, and ... pineapple pizza?”
George groans, “Pineapple pizza? Come on! Anything but that. I’m not even Italian and I’m still offended.”
Lando, with an impish grin, quips, “Remember when she wanted the mango gelato at 3 am? That was a fun drive.”
Mick chuckles, “Or the time we went to five different bakeries just to find that particular lemon cake she couldn’t live without.”
Lance pauses, looking thoughtful, “And wasn’t there a phase where she only wanted foods that were purple?”
George nods, “Yep, aubergines, purple potatoes, grapes ... I still can’t look at a plum without laughing.”
As the grid kids continue shopping, picking out items based on the rather diverse list you gave them, they share more anecdotes of the past months. The store’s other patrons watch in amusement as the young men navigate the aisles, often debating the merits of various brands or flavors, all to ensure they get it just right for you.
Later, back home, your grid kids proudly present their haul. You and Sebastian look on with affection as they lay out the eclectic mix of food.
“Did you guys get everything?” You ask, trying to hide your laughter.
Max feigns offense at being questioned, “Of course, we’re professionals.”
Sebastian leans in to whisper in your ear, “I’m just glad they didn’t try cooking this time. Remember the schnitzel incident?”
You giggle, recalling the disastrous attempt. “Of course I do. I was cleaning flour off the cabinets and ceiling for weeks. But hey, it’s the thought that counts.”
It’s a …
The preparations for your gender reveal are in full swing at the local park and your grid kids are at the heart of it. They’ve split into two factions: Team Girl, led by Charles and Lance, and Team Boy, spearheaded by Max and Lando.
Charles and Lance have laid out a series of pink challenges, including a three-legged race where participants wear pink tutus. “It’s going to be a girl, no doubt about it!” Lance proclaims confidently.
Max and Lando, on the other hand, have a blue-themed obstacle course, complete with a mini kart race. Lando, wearing a blue bandana, shouts over the ruckus, “I have no idea what you’re talking about because it’s definitely a boy.”
George has taken on the role of referee. Dressed in a striped shirt, whistle in hand, he’s ensuring that the competition remains friendly. “Remember, it’s all in good fun!” he reminds everyone, though his “Team Girl” badge suggests where his loyalties lie.
Mick, though undecided, has tie-dye patches of both blue and pink on his shirt. “I just want a healthy sibling for all of us,” he says with a gentle smile, standing back and enjoying the antics.
Sebastian, watching the chaos unfold, leans over and whispers in your ear, “Did we really think letting them plan this was a good idea?”
You laugh, “It’s a bit crazy but look at them. They’re having the time of their lives!”
The moment everyone’s been waiting for finally arrives. At the center of the park, a large, sealed box waits. As you and Sebastian approach, the grid kids form a circle around it, their playful banter coming to a halt.
With a shared look of excitement, you both pull on the ribbon. The box flaps open, releasing a cloud of ... green smoke?
The park erupts in a mixture of laughter and confusion.
Max looks baffled, “Green?”
Charles chuckles, “Guess neither team wins today!”
Lando, trying to waft away the smoke, jokes, “Alien? Oh my god, you’re having an alien!”
Mick wraps an arm around you, “Like I said, as long as it’s healthy.”
You smile, nestling into Sebastian’s side, “We thought we’d keep everyone guessing for a little longer.”
False Alarm
“Sebastian! The baby! I think it’s happening!” You exclaim, feeling a sudden tightening in your abdomen.
Sebastian, who was in the middle of mediating a lively debate with Max and Charles over who will be the baby’s favorite brother, nearly trips over the rug in his rush to get to you. “Okay, okay, okay. Deep breaths, in and out.”
Lance, eyes wide as saucers, frantically begins googling “how to deliver a baby” on his phone while George starts making a list of things needed for the hospital. “Towels! We need towels, right?”
Lando is somewhere on another planet, muttering to himself, “This isn’t happening. I am not ready to see a baby being born. Nope, nope, nope.”
Mick tries to restore some order. “Calm down everyone. Y/N, are you sure it’s really labor?"
Before you can respond, Charles bursts through the door, holding a bucket of ice. “I read somewhere you might need ice. Here!”
You laugh through the discomfort, appreciating the chaos ensuing because of your grid kids’ concern. "Actually guys, I think it’s just Braxton Hicks. False alarm.”
A collective sigh of relief sweeps the room. Sebastian, still slightly pale, pulls you into a hug, “You sure know how to keep things exciting.”
Lance looks up from his phone, “What’s Braxton Hicks?”
“It’s like a rehearsal for the real thing,” George explains, folding up his hastily made list.
Max, trying to regain his cool, smirks, “Well, if that was a rehearsal, the main event is going to be epic.”
You chuckle, patting your belly, “Guess the little one just wanted to see how quickly you all could jump into action.”
Putting the “Student” in “Student Drivers”
As you and Sebastian sit on the couch, going over your prenatal class schedule, a curious George peeks over. “What’s that? Are those the birthing classes?”
You nod, “Yep! We’re starting next week. It’ll help us prepare for the big day.”
Suddenly, Charles pops up beside George, eyes widening in interest. “Can we come?”
“That sounds cool! I’ve always wondered what those classes are like.” Lando chimes in from where he’s keeping an ear out in the kitchen.
Sebastian looks a bit overwhelmed, “I thought it was just going to be the two of us.”
Lance joins the group, scrolling through a magazine article about celebrity dads attending birthing classes. “Look at this! It’s a thing now. We could all go and support you both.”
Max adds, “Besides, we’re family. We’ve been there through everything else. Why not this?”
“Do they even allow so many people to join?” Mick ponders.
You can’t help but laugh at the eager faces in front of you. “I never thought I’d have to bring an entourage to a birthing class.”
Sebastian rubs his temples. “Okay, how about this? We’ll ask the instructor if it’s okay. If they allow it, you guys can join on one condition.”
Lando bounces on his toes, “What’s that?”
“No teasing or making jokes during the class. We’re there to learn and be supportive.”
Charles nudges Max, “That’s mainly directed at you.”
Max fakes innocence. “Me? I would never!”
You shake your head, “Alright, I’ll call tomorrow and see if our little ... or rather large group can attend.”
Your grid kids cheer, excited about the new adventure. As they scatter, already planning and discussing among themselves, Sebastian leans over to whisper in your ear, “This baby is already turning our world upside down and they’re not even here yet.”
You smile and squeeze his hand, “With this family, every moment is an adventure.”
***
The birthing center’s usual tranquil ambiance is slightly offset by the excited chatter of the grid kids as you all enter. The instructor, a calm and composed woman named Clara, raises an eyebrow at the large group but doesn’t comment. After all, it’s not every day that half of the Formula 1 grid walks into her class.
The session starts with everyone introducing themselves. Most couples share sweet stories of their relationship journey. When it's your turn, Sebastian starts, “I’m Sebastian, this is my wife, Y/N,” he pauses, motioning to the group, “and these are ... our sons.”
The room erupts in chuckles. One of the expectant mothers quips, “That’s a lot of kids! You two have been busy!”
Clara moves on with the class, demonstrating breathing techniques. Everyone’s earnest attempt to follow along results in a mix of deep breathing, snorts, and a few stifled laughs. At one point, Max, struggling to get the rhythm right, looks over at Lando and mutters, “I feel like I’m preparing to go underwater.”
When it comes time for practicing labor positions, the grid kids enthusiastically volunteer. George and Charles end up demonstrating a position, with George playing the supporting partner and Charles the laboring mom-to-be. The sight of Charles leaning into George, pretending to be in labor, has the room laughing, especially when Charles exaggerates with dramatic moans.
Lance and Mick take a turn next and when Lance offers words of encouragement to “pregnant” Mick, saying, “You’re doing great, sweetie,” you almost fall off your chair laughing.
Towards the end of the class, Clara demonstrates the use of a birthing ball. Lando decides to take a leap onto one only to bounce off, crashing into Max and sending both of them tumbling to the ground. The room is in stitches.
Despite their hilarious antics, your grid kids genuinely try to grasp the concepts, asking thoughtful questions and engaging in the exercises.
As the class wraps up, Clara approaches you with a smile. “I must say, this has been the most ... lively class I’ve ever taught.”
You grin, “That’s one way to put it.”
She chuckles, “But it’s clear they all care deeply for you and want to support you both in any way they can.”
Sebastian nods, wrapping an arm around you, “We’re very lucky to have them.”
For Real This Time
Lando and Charles are in the middle of a heated argument over the best way to make a sandwich (complete with props and charts) when you suddenly feel a warm sensation. Looking down, your eyes widen. “Uh, guys?”
“What is it?” Sebastian jumps up right away.
You swallow, “I think my water just broke.”
For a moment, there’s stunned silence. Then … mayhem.
Max yells, “To the car! Now!” while Lance scrambles to grab the pre-packed hospital bag.
George accidentally knocks over a vase in his attempt to find your phone. “Sorry! We can clean that up later, right?”
Mick tries to maintain calm, “Everyone, deep breaths, remember the class?”
Lando, eyes wide, mutters, “This is nothing like the class.”
Upon arriving at the hospital, the reception area becomes a scene of organized chaos. As Sebastian wheels you in, the grid kids follow in a flustered procession.
A nurse at the reception desk blinks in surprise. “Is there a convention in town?”
Mick, panting slightly, replies, “No, just family.”
Lando adds, “The biggest family you’ve ever seen.”
Another nurse, recognizing some of the faces, chuckles, “Formula 1 drivers in the maternity ward? Now I’ve seen everything.”
Inside, as the medical team preps you, the grid kids stand outside, pacing and nervously waiting. They take turns peeking through the small window, offering waves and thumbs-up.
Sebastian holds your hand and doesn’t complain once as you grab back hard enough to break every bone in it, “You know, I’ve faced pressure on the track but this ... this is on another level.”
You chuckle, squeezing his hand, “Just remember, I’m doing the hard part.”
Soon enough, after what feels like both a minute and a lifetime, the beautiful cry of your newborn fills the room. Your grid kids, hearing the sound, cheer loudly, causing several nurses to hush them.
Charles, tears in his eyes, says, “We’re big brothers now. Like, for real.”
“Wait,” Lando interjects, “aren’t you already a big brother?”
“Shush mate, let me have this moment.”
Max rolls his eyes but smiles, “Welcome to the family, little one. We’re a bit crazy but we already love you so much.”
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ghost-proofbaby · 4 months
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too sweet (astarion ancunin x reader)
"you know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain. pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. [...] you're too sweet for me."
summary: astarion realizes you're too sweet for him, and he probably shouldn't let this go further than necessary. but, oh, he's going to. isn't he? (based on this request and the song 'too sweet' by hozier <3)
pairing: astarion ancunin x gn!reader
warnings: spoilers for games regarding camp dialogue with astarion, discussion of astarion's past trauma, talks of self-loathing/disgust with sex, vague mentions & allusions to sex having been had, manipulation at it's finest! minors dni.
wc: 2k+
a/n: i just wanted to get inside this man's mind when he drops that fucking line the second time he tries to sleep with us/tav. why does his face fall like that? why?
divider by @firefly-graphics <3
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As Astarion observes the rise and fall of your chest in the soft morning light, he can only think one thing: shit. He fucked up. 
And he had spent most of the early hours trying to retrace his steps, trying to decipher exactly where his monumental mistake had begun, but it seemed useless. 
It could have been somewhere between the first and third bottle of wine shared with you last night during festivities, where he’d sweet-talked you to the high Hells until you’d agreed to return to his bedroll in the dead of night. Where he’d made the joke that wasn’t all that funny – the joke that he loved you. Three pretty words tried out on his tongue, and they hadn’t been nearly as light-hearted as he’d wanted them to be. More of an experiment, a quick sip to see if he liked the taste. And he had fucked up, because he did like the taste. He liked the sweetness that stuck to every corner of his mouth as he delivered the sugar-coated lie to you, his entire face falling as a new weight appeared in his chest. 
But perhaps it had been the first night he tasted you – well, your blood, that is. The night he’d awoken from a nightmare of Cazador and in his vulnerability, had chosen you as his victim of yet another experiment. A test to see if he was truly free. One drop of a thinking creature’s blood, that was all he needed. But you’d given more than he’d bargained for, and your cloy ichor had coated his taste buds so addictively, and he had just known that night was only the beginning. It was the first time, but certainly not the last. 
He thinks he could drink in whatever you offered him, and only that, for the rest of his days while still finding some sickly, twisted version of reprieve regardless. Not a drop more than he needed, always vying for more. 
He’d be okay with that type of hunger, that type of yearning, and that might have been his first real mistake. 
Or maybe, just possibly, it had been that very first meeting. Maybe he had doomed himself from the moment he’d pressed a blade to your neck, when he had dragged you to the ground with him and felt all that warmth, all that fear, radiating off of you. So frightful, and you still had offered your help to him when it was all said and done. Perhaps that was when he had well and truly screwed himself over. One simple introduction, void of his usual wine and flowers, and he’d locked himself in for pure trouble. 
Not even the fun kind, at that. What a shame. 
At the end of the day, or rather the beginning of the day as it is now, it doesn’t matter where his threads had started to unravel. All that matters is that they were – every carefully thought out line of his plans had all frayed, all detangled from the bigger picture, all because of you. 
Heart of gold, blood of honey. You were far too sweet for him, and he knew it. 
“Having fun, are you?” 
“I am, it’s hard not to with you.”
You’d taken each of his tactics in stride, hadn’t you? Whereas his face had nearly crumbled beneath the weight of that beautiful lie, insides twisting uncomfortable as the humor had slipped through his fingers, your eyes had only glittered as you bit back a smirk. To so lightly tease him, to banter right back with him, instead of see the truth behind it all. He didn’t know if you were simply that naive or if you were another kindred soul – Perhaps you were finding just as much safety, just as much sanctuary, in whatever dance he’d dragged you into. An entanglement of lies, a blithe facade, a daring smile that whispers come now, play with me. 
And play with him, you had. 
You’d played with him, you’d drank with him, and you’d now slept with him. Twice. 
“You’re up early,” your voice murmurs, silken tone cutting through all his racing thoughts. 
He hadn’t even noticed you had stirred, rousing yourself out from underneath his stolen blankets to peer at him curiously as he perched on the edge of the bedroll. As far from you, and as far from your sweetness, as possible. 
“Oh, you know what they say, my dear,” he chirps, rolling his shoulders as the act wraps him back up. The charismatic charmer. The illusive rogue, trained impeccably to coax you in and secure his safety, “No rest for the wicked.” 
He’d awoken before you last time, too. Had watched the sun rise and enjoyed the warmth of it plastering across his skin long before you’d ever woken up. He half-hopes you’ll be less talkative this time; he half-hopes you’ll try to rope him into whatever discussion you can, if only for a few extra seconds of your attention. 
You were too sweet. Too sugary on his tongue, too soothing in his chest. He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 
You hum thoughtfully, the blanket slipping and exposing more of your chest. With the light flickering in from his tent’s entrance, he can easily spot those two scarring dots along your jugular where his fangs fit perfectly, “I don’t know if I’d describe you as wicked, lover.” 
“No?” Roped into discussion, it is. “How would you describe me then?” 
He’s not comfortable in this lighting. He feels feverish beneath your steady stare, the way your eyes take their time as you look over every inch of him. The languid observation has him convinced you’re seeing right through him – your glance can pierce right through all his armor and expose every flaw. You see him for the monster he is, you see him for the bitter soul he’s become, you see him as the unworthy spawn he believes himself to be. 
He almost swears that you even see right through his nice, simple plan at hand, not so easily fooled as he had believed you to be. 
“Charming, certainly,” you suddenly sigh, sitting up and keeping your body mostly covered still with that knitted blanket. He’d only snagged it because the shade of the wool nearly matched your eyes – not that he was paying attention to your eyes, of course, “But then again, you’d have to be to have bedded me twice now, wouldn’t you?” 
“We can always make it thrice,” he banters back, ignoring the bile that builds at the insinuation. But if that’s what it takes – laying on his back over and over again – to guarantee your protection, he’ll do it. He’d do it a thousand times over to keep himself as far away from Cazador’s chokehold as possible, “Does that entice you, love?”
When he turns his body fully, beginning a carefully and calculated crawl up the bed roll, ready to slot his body back between your thighs and encourage you to have his way with him, you stop him. The heel of your foot delicately presses against his chest, your head tilted curiously before you shake it. 
“Who’s the eager pup now, Astarion?” 
He likes the way his name drips off your tongue. Almost as if he might be made of the same sugar and spice as you, the same pure honey flowing through your veins also inhabiting his. You say it like a song, articulate it like the sweetest fruit. 
He shouldn’t like it. It shouldn’t be able to overpower his lingering disgust with himself so easily. 
“It’s hard not to be eager when it comes to you,” he says the line with good practice, beckoning a purr to his tone that had always won over the victims he’d entrap in dark taverns back in the city, “I said the Gods had made you just to ruin me, and I meant it.”
He’d meant it more than he’d realized. It wasn’t just your body that had been sculpted to draw him in – it was everything. Your entire aura, your entire glacé demeanor. All that innocence and all that geniality enticed him more than he could ever admit. You were certainly going to ruin him, so wholly and so entirely. You’d already started to, really. 
You don’t respond at first, and he swears he has you. You’re locked in on his distraction, caught up in his web, just as he needs you to be. One lithe hand lifts to your ankle, cool fingers wrapping around your warm skin as he begins to lower his lips, ready to pepper kisses up your leg. Prepared to offer you his mouth, his body, in return for the one thing he needs. Self-loathing be damned. 
Old habits die hard, right along with pride, and he’s not quite ready to bury either at your grave yet. 
But just as he presses the first chaste kiss to your skin, nearly taken back by how your sweetness still breaks through the salty surface, you’re pulling the limb away from him. Your knee draws back and a disarming smile has risen on your cheeks, eyes glittering at him just as they had the night before. 
“I suppose I’ll have to come find you when everyone is asleep, then.” 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
What exactly had he been waiting for? You, of course. But had he been waiting for you to find him solely for what had transpired? To explore your portfolios of talents once more, as he had put it? Or had it been for something more… precarious? 
Was he nothing more than a prey, waiting for you to be his demise? 
Had he actually been waiting for this? 
The challenging look in your eyes as they reflected back stars, the warmth of your skin so close to him he nearly melts into you. The upturn of the corners of your mouth, outlining the way you certainly know something that he doesn’t. A look you wear well, a look that shakes his foundations and rattles his bones. 
“As tempting as you are, I’ll have to decline. Duty calls, as they say.” 
Can you see right through him? 
He should be more deflated when you start going through the motions; he should be pouting or overthinking it all as he watches you gather your clothes once more, covering up the few bite marks of his that litter your skin. Every moment you prepare to leave his tent should be one spent overthinking where he’d gone wrong – why didn’t you want him? Was his plan even going to work? 
Were you truly too sweet for him? Would he have been better off trying to romance the likes of Gale for the safety just shy of his grasp now?
He doesn’t, though. For once, his mind is quiet as he watches you patter about. The bile retreats, the disgust fades. For the first time in a very long time, Astarion is leaving this interaction not feeling used. 
Maybe it’s in the way you cheekily snatch one of his shirts as you both pretend he doesn’t notice it, or maybe it’s in the gentle caress of your fingers through his hair as you pass him to pick back up your discarded weapon. Maybe it’s in every shy glance you offer him, or maybe it’s in your ever present grin. 
Watching you leave should worry him, but it only feels like a breath of fresh air. A wind that comes sweeping in with the promise of next time just as you pull back the flap to his tent. 
And he hadn’t realized he’d been waiting patiently for you to turn back to him until you do just this, offering him one final glance that sets him aflame, “Oh, and before I forget – you can feed on me tonight, if you need to.” 
Heart of gold, blood of honey. He couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.
“Then I’ll see your delicious self tonight,” he takes a pause, one big and unnecessary breath filling his chest alongside that warmth you bring to him. The fearless leader, the kindest soul. His most apt nickname for you yet falls off his lips in a content sigh, “My sweet.”
He shouldn’t entertain you – he shouldn’t let this go further than necessary. 
But he’s going to. Gods, he is going to. 
After all, the sweetest fruits always fall from the most forbidden branches, do they not?
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liv2post · 4 months
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Dungeon Bats
Animagus!Snape x Animagus!Professor!Reader Wordcount: ~1000 Summary: Severus Snape thinks the Muggle Studies professor is strange only to find out she is an animagus with an awfully familiar form.
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Read here or on ao3
The Muggle Studies professor was strange.
Hogwarts always had its fair share of odd characters occupying teaching positions. Even a ghost, evidently, was capable of teaching. But he couldn’t place what it was about you that made him so suspicious. 
You were human, not like Firenze or Professor Binns. You weren’t kooky like Hagrid or Professor Trelawney. Outwardly, you appeared perfectly normal. However, there were oddities if one looked closely.
You ate fruit. Lots of it. Every day at breakfast, instead of toast, eggs, bacon, sausage, things the other teachers would partake in, your breakfast consisted of fruit and only fruit, including a cup of pumpkin juice. Your plate appeared almost like a small pyramid, stacked with cubes of cantaloupe, pineapple, strawberries, honeydew, and grapes, leaving behind a pool of sweet juices when consumed. 
You also had a tendency to pop up and disappear seemingly out of nowhere. One time he went into your classroom to talk to you about moving a couple of detentions around only to find it empty, having swept his gaze around it. Just as he approached your office door to knock on it, you uttered a soft “hello” as you stood in the middle of the classroom, making him jump out of his skin. 
Furthermore, Filch had brought up to him once that he could hear some perplexing screeching noises echoing from random parts of the castle at night and even what sounded like right outside the windows. What was strange about it is he only brought them up the morning after you were scheduled to perform rounds.
This wasn’t to say he disliked you. Quite the opposite. Out of everyone in the castle, he’d say he preferred your company. Who he'd rather sit next to at Quidditch games? Probably you. Even though you were the Muggle Studies teacher, you had plenty of knowledge about Care for Magical Creatures and DADA. Potions weren’t your forte, but you’d happily let him ramble about the subject, even when he’d realize too late that he was rambling. 
“Why do you eat so much fruit?” he asked one day when you came into his classroom eating a sliced-up apple.
“Oh, uh, that’s just my animagus urges. Sorry, am I dripping juice on the ground again?”
He blinked dumbly at you. “You’re an animagus?”
You chuckled, “You didn’t know, Severus? I thought Minerva would’ve told you. Yes, I am an animagus.”
“What animal?” he asked. You smirked and set down the apple slices on a nearby table before shifting. Your robes moved with you, swishing up and shrinking until you took the form of a fruit bat. You flapped and swooped about the air in a few circles before landing on the flat surface of the table, using your talons and thumbs hooks to wriggle toward your sweet fruit.
“You’re a fruit bat,” he observed. You screeched at him in confirmation and began to gingerly gnaw on the flesh of the nearest apple slice. Severus remained quiet for a little, seemingly thinking to himself as his fingers flexed and his jaw clenched slightly. Much to your curiosity, he wordlessly set his wand down and took a deep breath. Within a flash, his robes swooped around him, and in his place was a fruit bat, just like you, but bigger. He flapped his wings just hard enough to get him onto the table as he landed with an audible thud. It was pretty much impossible for bats to take flight without launching from a tree or a high-up place.
[Woah! You’re a bat too? That’s awesome! Is that why students call you a “dungeon bat?”]
[Yes, I am an animagus whose form is also a bat, and no, that’s just a coincidence.]
[How come you’re so much bigger than me?]
[You don’t exactly tower over me, Y/N.]
From then on, the two of you would sometimes go on day flights if both of you had some free time. While both of you wished to fly at nights, you still needed time to sleep and perform your teaching duties during the day. However, your favorite times were when the both of you were scheduled to do rounds. Your classrooms were on opposite sides of the castle so it was almost like a game to use echolocation to find each other in the dark and meet up. It was a little fun considering the dungeons were almost maze-like. If the two of you were sure that no students were out and about, you’d ditch your duties, ascend up the Astronomy tower, and take off into the night sky, playfully chasing one another or showing off flying moves. 
Severus hardly used his form unless it was necessary. It’s not like one got to choose which animal they could shift into. Admittedly, he was a bit let down when he first shifted all those years ago, but with you he learned to embrace his batiness, though he still resisted such urges when it came to eating a castle’s worth of fruit. He liked flying, of course, but he found that he quite liked hanging upside down too, especially when he needed a break from grading or just wanted a change of scenery. Sometimes he’d come hang around your office when you were grading and vice versa.
Dumbledore came to visit his classroom one late afternoon to talk about a particularly unruly Slytherin, but could not find the potion master anywhere, not even in his office. It was rather dark, all the lamps extinguished and curtains drawn. What he did notice, however, was two wands haphazardly tossed onto the stone ground near Snape’s desk, one of which he recognized as your wand. Dumbledore craned his neck up towards the ceiling where an old chandelier hung and sure enough, hanging from one of the rungs was a large fruit bat, and swaddled in its wings being held close to its fur, a smaller fruit bat. The both of you were napping. The old wizard smiled at the sight and slowly receded back through the doorway, happy that Severus had finally found a little bat of his own.
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riizeberries · 5 months
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Grape Juice - L.CY
!brothers best friend anton x !fem reader
Content Warnings: Smut (18+ MDNI), dry humping, oral (f. receiving), fingering, degradation, choking
WC: 2.3k
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It was no secret.
Your brother's best friend was hot.
Leaning against the kitchen counter, you slowly pushed the grape through your lips, your eyes never leaving the boy.
"You cheated, Anton!", you heard your brother yell, pushing said boy aggressively.
"Admit it, you're just shit at this game. Quit being a sore loser, Sungchan.", Anton snorted, as you heard Sungchan demand for a rematch.
Did you feel like a creep, watching him play Mario Kart with your brother in the living room?
No.
Not really.
What did you really have to be ashamed of? It's not like he knew you were doing so. Besides, could anyone really blame you? You couldn't take your eyes off his arms, not when his veins deliciously showed up everytime he gripped the controller tight. You just couldn't help but wonder how his veiny hands would feel against your throat.
You've never really spoken to Anton, despite him being at your home literally 24/7 due to his friendship with your brother. He was also somehow in majority of your classes, given the fact you were the same age, yet you sat on completely different sides of the class and shared completely different friendship circles. There was nothing for the two of you to speak about, nor did you have anything in common, an unsettling awkwardness lingering between you every time you were left alone. You just found no reason to talk to him.
That, however, didn't stop your hand from burying itself between your thighs every other night, wishing your fingers were his.
You didn't know what it was about him that had you pressing your thighs together, even with the mere mention of his name. Maybe it was his soft, yet deep voice, wondering how he'd sound whimpering and moaning into your ears, or maybe it was his athletic build that you often caught yourself sneaking glances at whenever he played basketball with your brother, wondering what it'd be like to leave your marks all over him. Or was it simply the thrill of wanting someone off-limits that had you so excited? Finally finding something you couldn't have, after years of everything being just handed to you, receiving princess treatment from your whole family your whole life. You just didn't know.
"Earth to Y/N.", Sungchan waved his hand in front of your face, trying to catch your attention, before walking past you to grab a bag of chips from the pantry.
"Huh?", you muttered, shaking your thoughts away.
"I said what do you want for dinner? Mom said she's working overtime, so we should just order food.", Sungchan explained, as Anton awkwardly leaned against the pantry door, waiting for your brother to be done.
"Oh, just order for yourselves.", You brushed off, causing him to snap his head towards you.
"Why? Aren't you eating? Are you dieting again? I told you, you don't need to diet. You're perfect just the way you are. Wait, are you sick? Are you not feeling well?", Sungchan rushed, making his way towards you, placing his hand on our forehead to check your temperature. Your eyes flickered towards Anton, his eyes looking everywhere but you, as you let out a groan of embarrassment, hating how overprotective your brother was of you.
"Chill. I'm fine.", you swatted his hands away, "I have a date.", you shrugged, ignoring how steam came out of Sungchan's ears at the mention of a date.
You also tried to ignore how Anton's eyes snap towards you, noticing it from the corner of your eyes, trying to convincing yourself not to get your hopes high, as it was just another one of your delusions.
"Are you serious? A date this late? You wish.", Sungchan scoffed, glaring at you, "You're not going."
"But it's-"
"I said, you're not going.", Sungchan sternly pointed, as you stomped your foot onto his, making him yelp in pain.
"But mom-"
"Mom would've said no, too! It's literally 7:30pm, and your curfew is 8, so when do you think this date's happening? Because it's certainly not happening after that.", He continued, cutting you off, as you let out a loud groan, hating how stubborn he was.
"You're literally so annoying, maybe if you let me spe-", you huffed, before you were cut off by his phone ringing. He gave you a pointed look, letting you know the conversation was over, as he left to his room to take his call.
You let out a shriek of frustration, shoving multiple grapes in your mouth, grumbling about how annoying your brother was.
"A date?", you heard someone ask, as you choke on the grapes, forgetting the extra presence. Your face grew warm, embarrassed by the fact he had just witnessed your small disagreement with your brother.
"Yeah. What about it?", you mumbled, leaning onto the counter to grab some more grapes, looking towards him.
Your eyes widened slightly, noticing a different look on his face, completely different to the warm, bright smile he always had on. His jaw was clenched, his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you with a look you unrecognised.
He looked extra hot.
You watched as his eyes slowly travelled from your face, downwards, lingering on your chest. Scrunching your eyebrows, you look down to see what he was looking at, before your eyes widened even more. Your boobs were practically hanging out of your pink cami top, looking extra plump from being pressed onto the counter. Clearing your throat, you looked away, noticing him push himself off the wall from where he initially was, walking towards you. You could feel your heart jump from your chest, the closer he got. Not knowing what to do, you just allowed your inner self to panic, but plastering a stoic expression on your face, eating your grapes.
You let out a soft gasp, feeling his body heat radiating from behind you, feeling his presence so near. You've never been this close to him, your mind going haywire as you try to figure out what was going on.
"With who?", Anton leaned down, muttering near your ear as you bit your lip, trying not to react to both his proximity, and the way his voice had dropped an octave.
"I said with who, princess?", he pushed his body closer against yours, making you whimper, feeling the tent in his shorts press against your backside, as he caged you against the counter. You hated that nickname, something that was given to you by Sungchan's friends for being a 'princess'; in better words, a spoilt brat. Yet, something about the way Anton said it had your pussy throbbing.
"What's it to you?", you rolled your eyes, feigning composure, hearing him scoff behind you.
"Are you really that fuckin dense?", Anton seethed, clenching his jaw even more when he felt you press your ass back into him, wanting to feel more, "Or was I just stupid to think your brainless head could actually work for once.", he muttered, rutting his clothed length against you, as you bit your lip harder, trying not to make any noise.
"Get on the counter, or do you need me to do that for you too? Since you're that fuckin stupid.", he snapped, pushing you up, his large palm on your stomach, pushing your back down onto the counter. You were too needy to even think straight, letting out desperate whines, every degrading word he spoke going straight to your pussy. This was exactly what you dreamed of every night, your desires finally coming true as you feel him push open your legs.
Not even sparing a second to even remove your clothes, his hands pushed into your shorts, two fingers circling over your clit as you let out a silent sigh of relief.
"Such a slut. You're already soaked and I barely even touched you.", he scoffed, tracing small circles over your clit faster, the whimpers from your lips escaping more frequently. The way your body twitched, he knew you were already close, rolling his eyes from how quickly you were able to reach your high. Just as the knot in your stomach was about to release, Anton removed his fingers from your shorts, making you whine from being denied your pleasure, grinding your hips against nothing, seeking some sort of friction to ease your needs.
"Please.", you whine out, frustrated from the lack of attention on your throbbing pussy, hating the way he pulled back to look at your desperate state, condescendingly.
"Look at you begging for me when you were supposed to be going out with another dude. What? Did you plan of fucking him tonight?", he snarled, pulling down your shorts to get a better view of your pussy, groaning at the sight of you clenching around nothing.
"No, only you.", you blabbered, not thinking straight. You hadn't even thought of the implications of your words, nor did you notice the way his eyes lit up when you said so, focused solely on your pleasure.
Anton wasted no time, as he dove straight into your pussy, his mouth latching onto your core. You threw your head back onto the counter immediately, your fingers burying themselves into his hair at the sensation, tugging it roughly. He moaned onto your cunt, sending vibrations up your body as you let out a loud moan.
"Shut up.", he snapped, releasing you from his mouth, as he reached up to put pressure on your throat, choking you. You eyes rolled back from the feeling of his hands restricting your airways, your mouth hanging loose, his cock throbbing at the sight.
He went straight back in, his tongue eagerly flicking your bud, lapping at your folds, while his hands roughly squeezed your thighs, pushing his face deeper into you. He couldn't stop, even if he wanted to, infatuated with how you taste, humming in satisfaction.
"How do you think your brother would react if he found out his sweet little pretty princess likes her pussy eaten by his best friend?", he laughed, condescendingly, smirking as he pulled back to look at your swollen clit, placing harsh slaps against your pussy, before diving right back in with his tongue. Your hands quickly rushed to your mouth, trying to suppress the sounds escaping your mouth, not wanting to be caught by your brother, as Anton increased the pace of his laps, sucking harshly on your clit.
"F-Fuck, i'm close.", you cried out, as you felt his nose brush against your clit every time he lapped at your folds, the pressure in your stomach building. He smirked, picking up his pace as his head ruthlessly moved back and forth, licking and sucking your core, his tongue teasing your entrance while his free hand moved to your bud, flicking it to stimulate you more. Before you knew it, the knot in your stomach snapped, as you let out a high pitched whine of his name, releasing into his mouth.
He continued his work on your pussy, even after you had come down, as you tried to close your legs on him, only for him to push them back open.
"Just fuckin take it.", he mumbled, slipping two fingers in, as his tongue continued swirling around your bud, immediately pumping them faster, curling them perfectly to hit your g-spot every thrust.
"I-I can't.", you cried from overstimulation, trying to push him away, as his hand pressed against your stomach, forcing you down.
"Yes you can.", Anton insisted, his entire attention on your cunt as he worked his fingers through your hole, groaning at the feeling of your spongy walls. His fingers thrust in and out of you, finding your sweet spot as he repeatedly abused the spot, loud mewls escaping your lips as he continued sucking on your clit while working his fingers. Your legs were shaking from the intensity of his thrusts, his fingers diving deep into you as you felt another wave of orgasm approach you. Chanting his name repeatedly, your grip on his hair tightened as you reach your high. Your mind went blank as your eyes rolled back, the pressure in your stomach suddenly released as you let out a loud cry.
Exhausted, you open your eyes, looking down at him, your eyes widening at the sight of him, realising he had just made you squirt.
"That was so fuckin hot.", Anton whispered in a daze, leaning forward to slurp some of your juices, only for you to kick him away from overstimulation, "Didn't know you had it in you to squirt like that, princess.", he smirked, pinching your pussy before helping you up.
"You're cancelling that date. Fuck that, you're blocking him.", Anton glared, handing you your shorts as you put them on.
"I don't think so.", you shrugged, ignoring his sigh of frustration, walking away from the mess you had just made, bumping into Sungchan as he returned to the kitchen to join you two.
"Why didn't you just say it was a girl's date? I didn't know you were having a sleepover at Yujin's.", Sungchan huffed, tired from hearing their mom lecture him over the phone.
"I did try to. Not my fault you kept cutting me off.", you rolled your eyes, stomping up the stairs to your bedroom, as you slammed the door behind you.
"Damn, what's gotten into her pants?", Sungchan muttered, rolling his eyes, as he turned to look at his bestfriend, "Why are you smiling like tha- What the fuck happened here?", he jumped, looking at the mess on the floor.
Anton tried wiping the shit-eating grin off his face, horribly failing to do so.
A girl's date...
"Just spilt some grape juice.", Anton shrugged.
"You like grape juice?", Sungchan asked, confused.
"Love it.", he smirked, grabbing a cloth to wipe the mess.
"Let me help you.", Sungchan offered, making the younger snort.
"Trust me, you don't want to.", he laughed to himself, leaving the older confused.
"Okay...", Sungchan muttered, walking away from his giggling friend.
I guess grape juice was his favourite after all.
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first smut i've written in 4 years, yeah the quality's lacking, ended up rushing the end too, but i hope you enjoyed !! feedback is appreciated!! :3
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natsukishinomiyaswife · 5 months
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⋆ 𝓙𝓪𝓶𝓲𝓵 𝓥𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻: 𝓐 𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓼𝓾𝓶 ⋆
I wrote this for an OC of mine, but changed it to be a x Reader so that I could post it! Enjoy! ♡
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⋆ It's scary how similar they are, you couldn't help but think, feeling a pair of eyes on you.
You're sitting in the lounge of Scarabia, playing with Kalim's tsum. Jamil's tsum sits a few feet away, watching you intensely. Kalim had an emergency club meeting to attend, the Pop Music Club's concert having been rescheduled to be sooner. The members were left scrambling to practice with the short deadline. Since Jamil had his duties to attend to, you offered to watch their tsums for them, Kalim thanking you and saying goodbye to his tsum before rushing off.
⋆ Jamil was more reluctant, hesitating for a moment before allowing it with a sigh. Him and his tsum locked eyes, staring at each other. They stayed that way for a minute, having a silent conversation before he left down the hall. Since they left, all Jamil's tsum did was stare at you, keeping his distance. It reminded you so much of Jamil, how he always seemed to watch you for some reason, never really approaching. It made you nervous, looking back every once in a while to see if the tsum was still there.
⋆ You weren't sure why it put you on edge, much like how Jamil's staring would. Perhaps it's because you're unsure what you did wrong, looking back again to see the tsum behind you, watching you still. You took a deep breath, doing your best to focus on Kalim's tsum. He was a little bundle of energy, never seeming to keep still as he bounced about happily. Watching him made you smile, laughing as you played. A chill ran up your spine as you felt Jamil tsum's stare, turning to see the tsum was looking at you much more intensely. It almost seemed like he was glaring at you, making you turn back to Kalim's tsum with a frown.
⋆ The happy tsum seemed to notice the change in your mood, laying himself in your lap as a way to comfort you. You looked down at the tsum, his eyes looking back at you as if asking if you were alright. A small smile came to your face, petting the top of his head. He was so cute, and reminded you so much of Kalim. You looked back to check on Jamil's tsum, doing a double take when you realized he wasn't there. You started looking around the room, trying to see where the tsum could have gone to and doing your best not to panic.
⋆ Right as you were about to get up and start searching the halls, Jamil's tsum appeared, carrying something on his back. As he got closer you realized it was a plate of fruit, the tsum sitting it down in front of you. You stared at the tsum in confusion as he nudged the plate, as if telling you to eat. You pick up a grape, realizing you were hungrier than you thought. Your chest grows warm as you eat the fruit, realizing the tsum had noticed you hadn't eaten in a while.
⋆ You turn to look at him with a shy smile, petting the tsum's head as you thank him. The tsum seems pleased by this, soaking in your touch. After a moment, Kalim's tsum hops in your lap, clearly wanting some attention too. You laugh at his antics, moving to pet his head instead. You feel Jamil's tsum staring again, just as intense as before. You turn to the tsum, wondering what was wrong. As you gaze at the tsum you realize his stare wasn't directed at you, following his line of sight to the tsum in your lap.
⋆ It takes a moment before it clicks, with you apologizing to Jamil's tsum and shifting your attention back to him.
"Ah, sorry! Did you want to sit in my lap too?"
Jamil's tsum seemed embarrassed at being caught, but didn't deny your offer, moving to lay next to Kalim's tsum. Though he didn't seem happy with sharing, pushing the other tsum out of your lap when you weren't looking. Kalim's tsum bounced back up a moment later, choosing to sit on your shoulder instead.
⋆ Jamil was done with his tasks for the day, heading back to the dorm lounge to check on you. He hopes Kalim's tsum didn't give you too much trouble, figuring his own wouldn't do much. If anything, perhaps his tsum helped you keep Kalim's in check. When he got to the doorway of the lounge he froze, taking in the sight before him. You sat on the floor, Kalim's tsum sitting on your shoulder while his own rests in your lap. You had a small smile on your face as you looked down at the tsum, petting his head. His tsum was clearly pleased with the attention, looking smug when he noticed Jamil in the doorway. Jamil couldn't help but cross his arms, shooting his tsum a look.
⋆ What he wasn't prepared for was you picking his tsum up from your lap, lifting the tsum close to your face as you eyed him affectionately.
"You really do look like Jamil! Same hair, same clothes. It's so cute!"
You press a gentle kiss to his tsum's forehead, setting him back in your lap afterwards. The sight causes his heart to pound in his chest, feeling flustered as he turns around. He'll come back later, after he's calmed down ♡
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I might post the original one I wrote featuring my OC one day, but for now...
𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾! ♡
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simplyreveries · 9 months
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when theyre pining; vice dorm leaders!
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trey clover
trey always had an eye on you ever since he met you, as the "magicless person from another world" he was pretty intrigued by you. he only grew closer to you from there. with his personality i feel like its easy to take his intentions more as a friend more than someone who's interested in you. and trey tries his best to get his feelings across that hes fallen quite literally hopeless for you. (will die if you ever hit him with the "oh youre like such a friend/brother to me!")
ace gets so offended when you get all the extras of his treats or that you're the first one to get some of his baked goods. he’ll complain that saying that “that's no fair- you're trey’s favorite!” and trey laughs but doesn’t deny it.
he tries to be as helpful and caring towards you, he does feel some remorse for your situation and all too. if you need help with anything pleaasee go to him because he loves being someone you can rely on.
ok so, trey can flirt... if hes not thinking about it. like if he puts himself into this mindset of "I'm totally going to woo you with these words" he is a fool. we all saw his painful attempts during the ghost marriage event. I'll never forget that he compared the brides' eyes to grapes.... needless to say, he totally messes up around you like that all the time. cater once happened to witness one of these instances and went through the five stages of grief.
ruggie bucchi
ruggie plays off any feelings he has towards you like he's not taking it seriously. he gives off pretty confusing signals during the beginning when he started to develop feelings for you. perhaps its just because of how overwhelmed he feels and doesn't know how to physically handle it. he cannot get you out of his brain no matter how much he tries.
he finds it hard to trust. when someone does something for him he always assumes it's because they're going to want something in return. so when you just help him sometimes when you catch him doing some random tasks for leona and try to help him hes... confused. and truthfully doesn't accept your help for a while, he'll brush it off. but he still remembers that.
judging by your situation and practically being thrown into this world without any of your own belongings, you're in a tight spot with money. sometimes when he does shifts at the mostro lounge and sees you there he starts to try sparking conversations with you. though it's probably him attempting to discreetly make fun of some customer that was being rude to you. ruggie feels all giddy and excited when he makes you laugh.
he gets all playful around you, you know he's around when you hear his mischievous laugh. sometimes he uses "laugh with me" to move you closer to him he'd say "i didnt know you were so excited to see me...!" and laugh. you can only roll your eyes.
jade leech
jade is... interesting when it comes to having feelings. because its pretty intense once you've caught his attention. he's also just so strange when it comes to showing that. as much as he desperately does want to call you his and all, he enjoys the stage where you're unaware of how he feels. he thinks it's like a game to win you over or something and he likes a little challenge.
jades love language is telling you that he saw a nice-looking mushroom during one of his hikes and it reminded him of you. okay seriously though, he'll love to share to you all about his little terrariums, he's quite proud of himself.
he loves it whenever you come by the mostro lounge, trust me he'll be there ready to serve you the moment you're there. he playfully tells you that you're his favorite customer. so, you get extra good meals done specially by jade, he'll ask you what you thought of it. one time he messed with you by telling you he used a random plant he found and wanted to know if it was edible... and was like "hehe...i kid, dont worry".. he thought your reaction was quite amusing.
not going to lie this guy literally just spawns like you could be in the library chatting with grim and turn around and he's there??? he smiles and is like "ah (name) how pleasant to see you here." :))) HUH??
jamil viper
jamil was in complete denial with his feelings for you, he hated himself almost because he feels like he is making the biggest mistake falling in love with someone from a completely different world. he has never felt so intensely about someone until you arrived. to push his feelings away for a while and just yearned for you from a distance.
nevertheless, you being you always try to talk and get closer to him, and he can't resist his feelings growing so much with each conversation (even if it's mostly one sided from your behalf). whenever he sees you at one of kalims parties and celebrations he almost freezes and can only stare at you... until kalim follows his line of vision and gets an excited grin, starting to laugh and its over for jamil. that guy is going to make so many painfully obvious attempts at getting the two of you together.
he gets pretty quiet around you, if you didn't know him well it may seem like he didn't like you but trust me that is absolutely not the case here. since he listens and remembers a lot of what you say, he tries to use that as an opportunity to attempt talking more to you. it's cute to see him try, even if its mundane things like cooking. but if you bring up hobbies, he enjoys like basketball club and dancing he'll become more talkative.
whenever you do small things like acknowledge him?? compliment him?? hes smitten and hates it so much. usually, these things don't really matter to him when he hears it from others but when it comes from you? its very important. you sound so genuine too about it. or even go out of your way to help him with anything since he has a lot on his plate as vice dorm leader.
rook hunt
once he's got his eye on you it's over because you're going to be constantly seeing him everywhere...! he is so incredibly infatuated with you and won't hesitate to tell you that. you've captivated him in every way- he finds your beauty to be irresistible, that he finds it a no-brainer that he's deeply harboring feelings for someone such as yourself.
rook is literally so weird when it comes to you im sorry. but its ROOK. he notices everything about you "is this a new perfume? ah its so lovely!! beauté!!" right after you just awkwardly said "good morning" to him when he was staring at you blissfully.
speaking of staring... wowie he cannot take his eyes off of you. he'll sigh dreamily like RIGHT next to you with his head in his hands thinking how truly captivating you are. and whenever you decide to talk to him, he literally listens to every word you say- but hey, at least no conversation with him is dry or boring with him because this man can talk forever about anything. he'll even tell you more about himself.
he tends to put you on this pedestal. literally, you can do nothing wrong in his eyes. rook will write you poems upon poems, gifting your beautiful things and tells you that they remind him of you, and he just simply had to give them to you.
lilia vanrouge
done here!
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mondaymelon · 10 months
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Hihi!!! Saw your requests are open and maybe…. Just some cuddling hc or drabbles 🙏
I’m touch starved obviously, but it would be nice with kaeya, diluc, Alhaitham, and Ayato ?
My pookies, they need a hug fr 😔
₊˚ෆ "𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌." | kaeya, diluc, alhaitham, ayato, kazuha x gn!reader
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not very familiar with writing this kinda stuff so added a little bit of variation for each one!! thank you for the request nonnie !!!
[ touch starved genshin men are so... chef's kiss... ]
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Kaeya has been growing busier recently.
With the return of several reconnaissance missions, all sorts of paperwork have been shoved onto the poor man, and he’s spent every free hour away from his desk unwinding at Angels Share, where instead of getting pestered, he’s pestering any person close enough to hear his words. 
“I miss them…” He mumbled to no one in particular, swirling the deep reds of the wine in his glass, pressing his cheek against the wooden counter. His voice denied his dubious sobriety, and his hazy gaze certainly wasn’t helping his case.
The bartender just sighed, clearly fed up with Kaeya’s drunk antics, and turned to the crestfallen man while clearing away the bottles he’s downed in the past two hours. “Your lover? Why not just go see them?”
“...” Silence was the only answer from the male as his mouth dropped slightly ajar, his eye sparkling with realization. That’s right, why couldn’t he? Ignoring the jarring fact that it was well past a reasonable bedtime, he slammed his cup down on the table, before stumbling out the door. The path to your place was well-trodden and familiar, winding along the perimeter of Mondstadt’s walls and a cozy place to all. Kaeya could’ve sworn all he did was blink once or twice, yet he had already found himself with his hand raised, knocking on the wood of your door. There was quiet, then the soft steps of your sleepy footsteps. The door creaked open, and he practically flung himself at your pajama-wearing form, engulfing you in an embrace as he buried his head into the crook of your neck.
“K-Kaeya?” Your body swayed from the sudden weight, and you hesitantly returned the gesture, wrappping your arms around his lower torso. He mumbled into your skin, unintelligible sounds that just made your ears burn. “Hey, you reek of alcohol, just where have you-”
“Ugh, you’re too loud.” His voice was low, breathy, and he slowly walked into your house, closing the door behind him. “I just wanted to see you. Cuddles please, love?” He’s drunk, it’s clear from the red flush dusted across the cheeks and the way he stares, practically mesmerized by the sight of you.
You couldn’t even form a coherent thought, let alone an argument. With a sigh, you dragged his limp self to the bedroom, covering him in blankets and pillows before cuddling up next to him. “Happy?”
“No, I asked for cuddles. C’mere.” And just like that, you’re trapped in his sturdy arms, and he let out a content exhale as he snuggled himself into your form. 
“Warm. Can’t we just stay like this for tonight, love?” ₊˚ෆ
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Diluc always came home late.
It’s no surprise that Mondstadt’s everyday occurrences and trifles kept him away from where he longs to be the most, and the fact that he’s secretly Mondstadt’s Darknight Hero wasn't exactly aiding him in this predicament. He let out a long sigh, rearranging the papers on his desk, and ignored the ink splatters that had gotten on his sleeves. His red eyes scanned the world past the large windows, the sun overhead shining down on the grape fields below. In just a few months, harvest season would arrive, and then the whole estate would be bustling with activity. Just thinking about it made his head hurt.
A walk would do him some good. As work-centered of a person he was, it wouldn’t do him any well to keep himself glued at his desk for countless archon-forsaken hours on end. He stepped out into the hallway, only to pause in his place as he spotted you, glancing around in confusion with a wicker basket dangling from your hold. All questions flew out of his head as he approached you from behind, pulling you into a back hug. “Love, what are you doing here?”
“Diluc!” You perked up as soon as you felt his touch, giving his red hair a light ruffle. He leaned into your touch with a soft smile on his lips. “It’s lunchtime, isn’t it? The maids told me you’ve been cooped up in your room all day, so I figured I’d bring a little something…” You held your picnic basket a little higher so that he could see, face growing red as he remained silent. “H-Have you already eaten…? Sorry, I’ll-”
“No, don’t.” He reluctantly let go of you, but took your hand instead, gently guiding you to the drawing room, where a long couch has been fixed next to the wall. He looped his arm around the basket and placed it on the table, then directed his full attention onto you. “But can it wait?”
You’re not used to him requesting things, and your eyes widened. “S-Sure, but what for?”
“So I can do this.” Suddenly, your back was against the couch, and Diluc was on top of you, his arms planted on either side of your form and effectively capturing you with his own body. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before leaning his head against your chest, letting out a breath of contentment as he fluttered his eyes shut. Your quickening heartbeat pulsed in his ear. “Do… Do what you did earlier. That… playing with my hair. Please.”
Who were you to refuse? You relented to his efforts and ran a hand through his crimson locks, letting a smile grace your lips at his sudden childishness. “You tired?”
He hummed in response. “Mhm.” Your touch was ever so gentle, and he yearned for it with a passion. Slowly, he reached for the hand on his head and held it, kissing the back of it delicately, as if you were made from porcelain.
“Thank you, love.” ₊˚ෆ
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Alhaitham’s head is always stuck inside a book, that is no understatement.
And now was no different. Even with his duties relieved, it being a weekend, and despite the fact that he’s literally sitting right next to you on the couch, his nose is still buried in his novels, eyes scanning page after page. Yes, you could understand his love for reading, but did it really surpass his love for you? Call it childish, but it had been a long week, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle into Alhaitham’s arms and listen to his half-hearted complaints. You pouted at the ashen-haired male, who hadn’t even looked up for the past two hours. This had to be a new form of torture.
“Haitham.”
“Mhm?” You could feel your frown deepen as he just hummed a response, not even bothering to look up. In situations like these, isn’t it better to be upfront?
“...Can we cuddle?” Alhaitham’s eyes widened the slightest margin, his multicolored gaze finally, finally shifting upwards to meet yours. His stare flickers as he spots the small pout fixed on your lips, and his own formed a smile.
“Needy, are we?” He said it with a dash of sarcasm, yet set the book away all the while. Uncrossing his toned arms, he glanced up at you with a brow raised. “Why don’t you say please?”
You huffed. Of course, he had to be like this, but whatever irritation you might’ve had was more or less swept away as you opened your mouth to speak once more. “Please?”
And just like that, you’re wrapped tightly in his arms, the side of your face pressed into his chest where you could hear the dull, just slightly faster than usual beat. His hand snaked its way behind your head, and he softly toyed with your strands as he buried his own face into your neck. Alhaitham’s skin was slightly cool to the touch, yet his warmth spread across every inch of you, and all of a sudden, it was hard to breathe with how much overtime your heart was putting in. You moved to speak, but your voice was completely dead, and when you tried to shift your position, Alhaitham’s firm hold on you kept you locked in place.
It’s not like you had any complaints. Even from this unflattering angle, you’re able to admire how long the archons spent crafting a man like Alhaitham, with his sharp jawline and fair skin, and gorgeous, marble eyes that’s colors blended like a painting.
“What, like what you see?” Alhaitham couldn’t even act exasperated, and the smile that’s reserved only for you was one filled with amusement.
“And if I do?” You could feel the flush on your face.
“Admire me all you want, since I’ll be doing the exact same to you.” ₊˚ෆ
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Ayato is a man of many masks.
It’s something that’s needed for the life he leads. A situation that he’s been delved deep into ever since his birth. You certainly don’t blame him for it, it’d be impossible to. That, and that facade absolutely collapses whenever the two of you are alone together. His usual business politeness and mask of indifference simply cease to exist, and you become one of the only people who can see the man as he is, rather than just a political figure that you’ll shake hands with to maintain appearance. Instead, it’s the smooth-tongued and cheeky man who found you when you were at your life’s low, took your hand with a smile, and brought you back to the light. You had fallen for him, and fallen hard. To think that you were his lover now seemed like a delusion that your brain had crafted, but it was true, and it was found in small moments like these.
After a rather taxing meeting with the Inazuman officials, who were busy pressing for marriage between the Kamisato clan and another, you found him snuggled into your arms when you woke up in the morning. When he had joined you in your bed, you had no idea, but you admired the way his violet eyes were shut and how his long, dark lashes curled. You marveled at how ethereal the man was, the beauty mark that graces the skin just below his lips, and his long, silky tufts of light blues and indigos. “Pretty…” Your voice was barely a whisper, so as to not wake the sleeping male, but you already know your eyes are sparkling. “Archons, isn’t it unfair that you’ve given him all the beauty you could’ve given?”
You shake your heads at your odd thoughts, lightly touching his head, in awe at the softness of his hair, and his hazy eyes slowly fluttered open with remaining ebbs of morning grogginess. “Ah, you’re awake?”
Ayato merely smiled, pulling you closer and pressing into your form. “No,” he sounded pleased with himself, too pleased with himself. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “I’ve been awake all this time. Seems like you say some embarrassing things about me while I slumber?”
Silence. Your eyes are round, and your mouth has fallen slack as you stare in utter shock at the audacity of your lover before you. “Y-You-”
“Next time, don’t be too shy to say it to my face, alright?” ₊˚ෆ
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(a/n) omg its finished hooray hooray !! first ever req on the main so jodafjlfjlksd dies are the characters ooc theyre ooc okay im tired lets honk mimim
-> teehee what if yall left a message on my christmas tree 😶😶😶
໒꒱ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open! send an ask or a comment ♡) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @solxima
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rodolfoparras · 6 months
Text
Oh to be with old man price right now drunk on shitty wine and dancing to hozier in a dimly kitchen.
It’s not every day that you get to see Price this relaxed. Usually his mind is spinning with hundreds of thoughts- wondering if an old man like him is fit for someone young like you, wondering if there is someone who could treat you better than him, someone closer to your age someone who’s not jarred from the years they spent living, someone better looking who you could spend the rest of your life with-
But tonight he can only think about what a lucky bastard he is to have a man like you in his life. He’s got this lazy smile on his face as he pears up at you over his wine glass, and having noticed his blatant staring you can’t help but ask what’s on his mind.
“Nothing” he says, and downs what’s left in his glass. It’s not often he allows himself drink, not ever since his doctor told him to go easy with the beers. His body can’t handle alcohol like it used to and many times it has shown him that. But every once in a while he’ll allow himself a glass, especially on nights like these and he can already feel the alcohol having its effect on him, the tension in his body slowly easing up, and tongue readying itself to say too much.
However you won’t let it go, arms slinking around his waist and pulling him into your embrace
“Tell me” you whine out, into his salt and pepper hair, mindlessly rocking side to side with him in your embrace.
“Keep up with that and I’ll throw up on you,” Price grunts out, eyes squeezing shut in hopes of lessening the effects of the rocking motions but despite his words he sneaks his own arms around your waist , sweat soaked forehead pressed against your chest while he moves along to the music that’s playing in the background.
Your skin feels ever so warm while pressed flushed against his, the faint smell of your cologne and laundry detergent invades his nostrils and standing this close he’s sure he can hear your heartbeat or maybe it’s his very own pulse roaring in his ears.
This is nice, Price thinks to himself, even finds himself humming along to the tune playing from your phone before he starts softly singing to you
“You know you’re bright as the morning, soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape “ Price gets so lost in the moment, he doesn’t even notice the amused smile on your face as he continues to sing. “If you can sit in a barrel maybe I’ll wait. Until that day I’d rather take my whiskey neat my coffee black and my bed at three,”
For many years Price thought that death was his ever lasting companion, that God was going to punish him for all the crimes he’s committed, that he’d end up all alone and loveless, with only the Grim reaper taking interest in such a sad and lonely man yet here he was drunk and dancing with the love of his life in your shared kitchen.
He indeed is a lucky bastard.
The gentle touch of your hand on his cheek, snaps him out of the little world he disappeared in and when his eyes flutter open, he’s met with your soft gaze and the warm smile painted on your face.
“What?” He says, and clears his throat, feelings his face turn red as ever
“Nothing,” you shrug, echoing his words from earlier with a small smile on your face and just as he’s about to ask a follow up question, you pull him in for a kiss.
All thoughts disappear as you mold your lips onto his. You mostly tastes of wine and of something sweet, probably the slice of store bought cake you sneaked in as dessert and Price finds himself addicted to it, easily getting lost in the taste, and the feel of your prickly hairs brushing across his chin, all while sweet grunts and groans tumble past your lips.
In that very moment he feels a surge of pride washing over him. See Price may harbor many insecurities but he knows how to kiss and he sure makes it clear as his own hand cups your cheek to deepen the kiss.
It doesn’t take much before he’s slipping his tongue inside your mouth, free hand sneaking under your pajama pants and cupping you in the palm of his hand.
“Oh- oh fuck,” you breathe out in surprise, eyes wide as he feels you twitch under his touch.
“How about we take this somewhere else hm?” Price says, playfully nibbles at your ear before he pulls away from your embrace and who are you to deny such request?
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kithtaehyung · 7 months
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would u? (3tan717) | myg
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3tan717 drabble #1: would u? pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: masterlist | three tangerines | 3tan717 rating/genre: pg (18+) ; fluff ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi note: i am so so so sorry this is out on the very last day of feb but things have been absolute bananas lately! tbh i’m surprised this is even getting posted on time and i have even more to do after this is shared but eff it shibal!!! note 2: as promised, this is dedicated to the people that submitted the answers i’m using for this drabble: anon, grapes / @yoongrace, and apryl @aprylynn for this idea hehehe! also i literally just finished this so it's legit unedited so i'm sry for any mistakes! off to go prep for events now! warnings: 3tan yoongi as always, working yoongi??, kitchen, period cramps suck but yoongi to the mf rescue drop date: feb 29th, 2024, 10:03pm est word count: 2.3k
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Ugh. 
Why does this have to happen every fucking month. Why can’t it happen every three? Or six? Or never ever ever? 
Groaning, you roll over, burying your face into the pillow on Yoongi’s side. 
To some degree, you feel placated, probably due to his scent still lingering next to your dismay. He had to get up early to finish a track, but he assured you can be in the room. 
You can hear a little bit of what he’s working on as it bleeds through his headphones, and even just this sliver of sound gives you chills. Not just because of what it sounds like, but the sole fact that Yoongi’s letting you even listen in the first place. 
Huffing out a bit of amusement, you remember the last time Yoongi let you stay while he worked—albeit at his place while he went to the studio. 
Damn, how much you’ve grown since then. All those memories, those quiet times and tumultuous times, everything leading up to now. How time has molded you with knowing hands. 
However, no matter how much has changed all these months, some things have not wavered, like the fact that you needed to be sure he was okay with it—and his answer making you absurdly shy. 
Did he really have to say that you’re either staying or he’s gonna leave? That scheming motherfucker! 
Some drum beats hit your cheek before you realize the menace himself is playing multiple different ones. It’s only a couple hits before he moves onto the next, and you’re about to lift your hea—
“Fuck, where the hell is that kick?” 
Your laugh is stifled by cotton. As tickled as you are to hear Yoongi like this, you don’t wanna do anything to distract him. 
But by doing so, that causes your body to tighten and fuck, it hurts. It hurts to move, it hurts to laugh, it hurts to just exist. God, you want him to come back and join you so bad, but you don’t wanna be that person. 
…Yet. Maybe if it gets so bad you can’t even sleep? 
“Found you! Fucking finally. Thought you could hide from me, huh?” 
Oh, fucking hell, he’s adorable. 
Yeah, there’s no way you’re making him drop everything right now. This is too precious of an afternoon to stop. 
Exhaling a mile long breath, you fight through your pain and feel for your phone, groaning as you shift yourself. When in position under sheets and warm sunlight, you cycle through apps as a distraction. 
Scrolling. Scrolling. Smiling at some animal videos a bit before scrolling again. 
After all of five minutes, you start to see a trend on your feed, and suddenly get the idea to try it on Yoongi. It’s simple and harmless, right? 
You [3:30pm]: would u peel an orange for me 
Yoongi doesn’t say anything, and you lift your head slightly to see if he looks at his phone. 
When he does, he checks it really quick before setting it back down on his desk, back to clicking on his screen. 
Ah. Damn. He must really be in the zone because… 
Uhh. 
Blinking, you watch as Yoongi rolls his chair out to get up, setting his glasses down and heading out of the room with a light swing of his chains. 
Uh. What just happened? Did you upset him? You’re so stunned that his swift exit has you wanting to get up and follow him.  
But ow. Ouch. It’s maddening how much your cramps are getting to you. 
Bearing the punches to your gut, you start sliding out of the bed, straining and sucking in sharp breaths just to stand and pull Yoongi’s comforter over your tension. 
Padding out the bedroom, your worries make your steps tiny and heavy, and you regret sending that text because you literally just said you weren’t… gonna…
On the dining table—quiet—lie three tangerines, peeled and placed next to vibrant scraps while your lover peels a fourth with diligent, devoted hands. 
And you can’t even form words that match how you feel. 
Your vision swims right as Yoongi looks your way, his body stilling before he puts the fruit down. 
When he approaches with concern, you answer his silent questions through hiccups, “I—I thought you left cus—you were mad.” 
“Huh?” 
“I don’t even know,” you swallow, gesturing to all of your lower half and feeling him hold the slipping blanket. “It’s just… this, I guess.”
“Does it hurt?” 
“Like a motherfucker.” 
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, doll. Hold up.” Handing you the comforter, Yoongi goes to his cabinets in the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of medicine before walking it over. “You gotta take something as soon as you feel it. Don’t let it get this bad.”
“I know,” you groan, resting your head on his shirt and inhaling his healing presence. “I didn’t wanna bother you.” 
Your forehead is kissed. “You’re not bothering me. Especially with something like this.” 
“Okay.” 
He walks away again to grab some water, and you watch as he pours some into an electric kettle before starting it up. 
Glancing back at the fruit, you sigh, clutching the bottle of pills while feeling the weight of his comforter. He’s probably not pleased with the way it might drag on the ground, so you gather it and pick the end chair to sit on. 
And then you sigh, “Sorry for making you peel those. I didn’t even plan on eating anything.”  
“Too bad. You’re gonna eat what I make you anyway.” 
Wait, he’s cooking? He has work to do! “You’re working, though. Don’t worry about me right now.” 
“It’ll be quick.” 
“What are you making?” 
A glass bowl and pan are procured from random places before Yoongi blinks in place. “Uhh.. You’ll see.” 
As he clunks them onto his counter and stove, you watch with hearts for eyes as he bustles around the kitchen space. Even doing things as simple as washing his hands, opening his fridge, and simply grabbing a knife gives you pause. 
And this is when you realize that you can watch Yoongi do absolutely anything and be amazed. 
Even when he stands, watching you with a look that’s wait why doesn’t he look—
“Take the medicine, baby girl.” 
Oh. 
Snapping out of your trance, you nod. “Sorry.” 
Yoongi continues to give you glances until you swallow down the painkillers, satisfied enough to continue his cooking venture when you take the second one. 
As the sun paints the apartment in marigold and light, you keep watching with a smile as he brings the kitchen to life. Butter sizzles in a pan, tangerines are getting halved on a board, and something is getting mixed with a whisk. 
Who knew that the neighborhood fuckboy would have a whisk on hand? Not the younger you, that’s for damn sure. 
But here Yoongi is, in the flesh, whisking away with veiny forearms that have you thinking the most absurd thoughts during this time of the month. The only thing that would cut through the raging horniness would be getting up to see what the hell he’s making. 
It’s starting to smell familiar though. But he put the tangerines in the pan so you don’t even know what to expect right now. 
Walking up—blanket left behind—you observe the kitchen before peering over his broad shoulder. “Mm.. Smells like pancakes.” 
Yoongi doesn’t answer, but when you see the consistency of the batter, you realize you’re correct. “Oh, it is! I’m smart.” 
“You are,” he laughs. “But you didn’t get it all the way right.” 
“No?” 
“Nope.” Yoongi then gently gets you to move before he pours the batter over the slices, and you crane your neck to watch as he evens it all out. “Just one tangerine pancake.”
“Oh, okay,” you scoff, earning a laugh at your side. “Whatever, chef.” 
“We’ll see what you say in a bit.” 
Is he gonna leave it or flip it? Probably the latter. 
“K. Gonna flip that once it’s done.” 
Nice. You smile to yourself, loving how you’re starting to really be on the same page. Nudging him, you keep watching as he lowers the heat and sets the lid on the pan. “What now?” 
“We wait,” he responds, dusting his hands together before cleaning up his mixing bowl. “And I’m gonna see if we have any sugar.”
Damn it, Yoongi cannot keep saying that two-letter word. It’s starting to be detrimental to your health. “I can help.” 
“S’ok,” he assures, nose upturned. “Just watch me work.” 
“Oh, I’m very good at doing that.” 
At this, Yoongi turns and gives you a smile that immediately reminds you of summer, and you almost feel like crying again. 
“I’ve actually never tried this, but. We’ll see if this works.” 
With nothing snarky, or teasing, or fake to say, you reply with a smile and a genuine, “I’m sure it will.” 
When he keeps staring, his eyes lower to your lips, and you don’t care that you probably look like a wreck, or feel like one. Because the way he’s looking at you now makes you glow. 
If only the kettle didn’t decide this was the moment to stop boiling. 
You were probably about to get the kiss of your life. 
But Yoongi halts in his tracks before shifting to get a mug, setting it down with a thud before checking on the pancakes. Pancake. Whatever that delicious-smelling thing is gonna be. 
“There’s some tea packets in that right drawer. Help yourself cus I’d rather you pick.” 
Chuckling, you oblige before scooting over. After seeing a small jar of granules on the counter, you start rummaging through the drawer, exploring the various options while hearing the sound of a plate behind you. 
Ah, Yoongi’s flipping it. 
As you turn, you’re just in time to watch the muscles in his back protrude through his shirt as he flips the pan, impressed as he sets the plate down because holy hell that looks great. 
“Sugar, sugar, sugar… Suga, suga, suga.” 
Laughing, you interrupt his silly search as you grab the jar you just saw. “Suga suga, how you get so fly?”
Yoongi stops to see what’s in your hand, and he huffs through a grin before grabbing it. “Thanks, doll.” 
You keep humming the song that’s now wedged into your head as you watch him sprinkle bits on the pancake. 
“I don’t have a blowtorch,” he admits, “But I do have this.” 
Rolling out a drawer, Yoongi takes out a long lighter before holding it to the sugary top, humming the same song you were just singing without even knowing it. As the sugar slowly but surely heats, you both keep humming and basking in a calm afternoon. 
And you don’t even feel the pain anymore. 
“Go ahead and sit, babe.” 
“You sure?” 
“Uh huh.” 
Following instructions, you make your way to the table, cocooning yourself in his comforter again as you await the cutest meal you’ve had in weeks. Months. Lifetimes. 
Speaking of lifetimes… You hope every version of you meets every version of him. No matter when. No matter where. Because you want every version of yourself to find happiness, and Yoongi has been the one to help you finally find it. 
And he certainly passed whatever the hell this orange theory thing was supposed to be. 
Plates are set down to break you out of introspection, and you glance up with eyes sparkling. 
When Yoongi raises a brow, you just smile. When he asks what’s gotten into you, a chuckle escapes before you shake your head, 
“Nothing, baby. Just didn’t expect all this from that text.” 
As he plops into the next chair, you love the way the sun settles on his skin. Highlights his hair. Shimmers in his eyes. 
“Don’t even need to ask, babe.” He captures your attention with a calm look. “I was waiting for any distractions anyways.” 
So this was for him, too? Good. 
Grabbing your fork, you giggle. “Sounded like you were having a little trouble over there.” 
“I was! This is what I get for not saving my shit.” 
Both of you sit back in laugher as you throw your hands out. “Do that!” 
“I’m lazy!” 
“Tough shit!” 
“I know!” 
Grinning, you loll your head before waving your fork out. “You’re gonna save those sounds, and you’re gonna remember this day and thank me.” 
Yoongi just tightens his lips in a smile, eyes creased and glimmering. “Maybe.” 
“Yes. I’ll stand there and watch you until you do it.” 
"Really.."
For the rest of the afternoon—with full bellies and clear minds—you rest on the edge of Yoongi’s bed, forcing him to find the files he needs and watching him groan his way through saving everything. 
Constantly laughing at the ridiculously random names he’s assigning them.
When he’s done, you watch as he spins around in his chair, heart thumping with anticipation as you’re met with a waiting pair of eyes.
Breathtaking. 
When he leans in, you feel incredibly shy. Always, always, always. This will forever remain the same.
And—just as well—Yoongi's kisses will forever taste like tangerines. 
Three of them, to be exact. 
-
-
fin. :)
-
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how did the first 717 drabble go! | join the discord hehe
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a/n: nothing much to say other than i love y'all so much! i will try responding to anything when i can (there's literally still all the 3tan12 feedback to get to) but i do read all the commentary sent in and it keeps me going strong :'))) so thank you again for being here and being amazingly patient with me. off to work on more things but i shall be back once the wild weeks are over!
a/n 2: suga suga how you get so flyyyy hahaha
713 notes · View notes
starzblvd · 9 months
Text
Counting Seconds | Ellie Williams
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synopsis; A new special way to welcome the new year in Ellie’s old bedroom during a party
an; Wishing everyone a happy new years !! I’m going to be eating grapes under the table and following superstitions🤍
established relationship, panty play, some spit play(?), scissoring, fingering (receiving), dom!ellie sub!reader
જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
Back in Jackson Ellie agreed to help host a New Year’s party with Joel, Dina, Jesse. Of course any of your friends or family were free to join.
Considering the party was held in the house Ellie was raised in during her youth she took the liberty to dress more comfortably. The party was open invite, more people than you’d thought ended showing up. It was a lively party, everyone had plenty of things to talk about since the night was still young. The music would have been irritatingly loud if not for it being New Year’s Eve. Opposite of Ellie, you dressed up and did your hair up. Black mini skirt and your favorite top, now fixing a few flyaway hairs in the bathroom mirror, then you heard someone’s knocking outside the door.
“I’ll be out in a sec!”
Ellie turned the knob and let herself in when she heard your familiar voice, walking in to hug you from behind making eye contact through the mirror. “Think you’re gonna make it to midnight?”
“We have to make it to midnight El’s.”
જ⁀➴˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ Now that it was closer to midnight your vow to stay awake didn’t sound so important. The loudness of the music had the opposite effect, instead keeping you alert it was almost like a lullaby easing you to sleep. Ellie didn’t look sleepy in the slightest, she was swirling her drink by the glass rim staring at the performances on the television.
With her back turned to you, leaning in you clutch her waist in allowing your head to rest on Ellie, using her back as a pillow. Maybe this way you’d find it easier to make it to the end of the night. Ellie caught on early how you were currently struggling to stay up with how you sighed, then breathing back in her sweetly tart perfume scent.
“Cmon, getting tired already? We’re just half an hour away,”
Putting aside her drink on the table, she held her hand on top of your own. Ellie nudged you buy rolling her shoulder to hopefully open your eyes from their half lidded position, but you responded by groaning against her spine and squeezing her to let you stay like that a little longer. Long enough for you to see the clock strike zero.
Standing behind her, Ellie looked from the left of the room to the right checking the coast to make sure not one person would notice to arise suspicion for her next moves. People were on the other side of the room so she took this as her sign to go. “I need to show you something.”
A quieted low laugh came from her while prying your hold away. Ellie held her arm out to you still looking everywhere else to make sure she’s slipping away quietly. Treading more on your toes than your heels you followed her up the steps of the staircase ascending away from the party. Upstairs the music was muffled, Ellie geared towards her room kicking the door open with the tip of her shoe. The hinges squeaked like in annoyance with how she never used the handle, inside her old room the walls were painted a muted blue.
Posters pinned up of almost everything she’d ever taken an interest in, memorabilia of her teen years in every corner of her room. The current studio in your shared apartment shared so many similarities to this room, it was cute really.
Ellie rolled her eyes at your staring, grinning she anchored you down with her weight onto the bed to sit next to her. Immediately she was leaning into your body kissing you fast onto your lips, then your cheeks, then the bottom of your jaw. By now you’ve gotten a hint of her intentions of bringing you alone.
“El’s there’s people below”
“A few kisses isn’t gonna scare them,”
Being so close her words ticked on your skin and so did her seemingly never ending peppered kisses. Regardless of being on a different floor, paranoid you kept your giggles hushed to not be heard by any other soul than Ellie’s.
Slipping from her original spot she sunk down to the ground onto her knees, poised right before you. Putting your hands together for her to kiss the soft skin of your fingers, Ellie was savoring you slowly as to make sure not to miss any part of you. With both legs pressed together you could feel a new need for her. Subconsciously squeezing and tensing your thighs together didn’t help the surge of impatience for attention from you. It would be embarrassing for how quickly you got like this if Ellie wasn’t the same.
“El’s,”
“What are you so whiny for?”
She whispered and even her chuckling was brought down to the same volume you spoke. Except Ellie didn’t plan on keeping so quiet the entire time. She rode the fabric of your skirt up delicately letting the sheen of the moons light gloss your thighs. Whether you choosing to opt out on wearing safety shorts tonight specifically was intentional or not, she pulled the sides of your panties up making a clear, tight display of your puffy lips. Allowing, no, begging her to get closer you further separated your legs apart, leaning back onto the support of your forearms staring down at Ellie giving her lips a coat of saliva with a quick lick.
At first she plunged in with the tip of her nose bumping your clit before moving her face up to properly kiss it. Bringing the panties even more higher up your torso the fabric scrunched to be enveloped in between your folds, exposing how’d your body quickly opened up yearning for Ellie.
Keeping the panties in front of your cunt she put some pressure in sticking her thumb in, only a bit. Ellie was acting insufferable only giving you teases, pushing down onto her finger only made her retract her hand and body back.
“You gotta hold off a little, can’t go giving it up so easily,”
“but, I want to.”
”you sure about that?”
Placing her hand back onto your crotch bottom side wrist up, her index took no time to force the soaked underwear out and to the side, easily plunging into you with her middle finger too, squishing the wetness while doing so. Whimpering louder than you’d like to let out was more embarrassing and nerve racking given the situation outside the door. Wiggling her fingers up and down outed the absolute messy sticky slush you had created in the few passing minutes.
Touching up on the spongey spot inside you with her long fingers completely lost in you, by now you’d wish Ellie moved faster.
On the shelf of the headboard there was a digital clock that had the seconds in the corner ticking by, counting down. 11:53. Ellie shifts upwards putting a knee up on the edge of the bed between your legs, doing this she slid out from you to grab the clock.
Ellie smiled at the red illuminated digits scoffing at it, soft and raspy “I can use this.”
Watching her pushing herself up from the ground to sit besides you, Ellie grazed your skin trailing up your thighs to completely remove and get rid of your panties. Slowly, she moves a bit back to lower her head to kiss your exposed clit, to suck it into her mouth with her lips so she could touch it with the tip of her tongue, plopping it back out with a coat of Ellie’s spit.
Bringing her head up to meet your face she smooshed your lips into another kiss, but you were needy now. Wasting no time to unbuckle her belt, not bothering to take it out the loops instead just pulling down her jeans along with her underwear. You could feel her heavy breathing on your top lip,
“I’ve been needing this all night.”
Ellie kicked her jeans off with each leg, pushing down onto you while cupping your hips. Now you were laid down completely on your arched back, raising your right leg up to her shoulder. When you easily offered yourself up for her like this she couldn’t ignore her urges anymore and immediately straddled her body onto you groaning a moan out when she could put her throbbing cunt on yours. Starting to rock on top of you, moving on you felt like continuous weaker orgasms that fluttered by. Meanwhile you were teased and touched the entire time so far, Ellie didn’t get to receive any attention on her own cunt, keeping everything inside her pants. Letting for her self made mess by watching you, playing with you, to pool and drown itself in itself before meeting yours. Whatever silence on the upper floor remained was filled with the slippery noises that came with the desires of each other and not to quiet moans.
“I need to fuck-…fucking see your tits.”
Her words came out trembling off her lips, like being almost out of breath, obliging by Ellie’s demands you grabbed the hem of your top pulling it off, trying to yank your bra right off too, disregarding the clasps in the back. Ellie copied your actions and brought her t-shirt over her head making her hair all disheveled, it was easier considering Ellie only ever wore sport bras.
Once your nipples got hit by the colder air and hardened she scooped both boobs into her palms to make some cleavage while they bounced back and forth. Looking up, the glowing stars placed on the ceiling started rocking back and forth too. Ellie let go one of her hands to pick the clock back up, staring at the seconds it was 17 seconds til midnight struck. Slowing down the speed she was going at she turned over the clock so you’d see the seconds go down for yourself.
“what are you showing-“
“We’re going to..make it to..zero.”
Ellie was seriously dedicated to pin pointing both of your climaxes the moment it became midnight. Placing the clock below your boobs staring the seconds down with furrowed brows, refusing to give you the satisfaction of cumming before she said so.
“10.” Ellie started counting down, thrusting only once.
“9” Not getting any faster. People started joining in counting down, quiet between numbers.
“8” One hand cupped her own breast while the other cupped yours.
”7” She squished the bundle of nerves in your nipple.
“5” Moving just faster to pick up pace, careful to not set her off.
“4” Forgetting to be careful.
“3” You could fell yourself on the very urge to unravel.
“2..fuck it.” Inconsiderate of the time Ellie pushed herself down on your clit with hers, sliding down on your slick, cumming right outside your cunt entrance. Downstairs people erupted into screams, they couldn’t hear Ellie’s broken stuttering moan, but maybe they could hear the high moan close to a yell you let out right after hers. The liquid slid down to the duvet, it was mixed with your cum and even more so with the last gentler thrusts.
Ellie collapsed right on top of you sandwiching the clock in the middle of your sweaty bodies. Kissing your cheek she blew a strand of hair from your face away, she looked tired but elated. Ellie lifted herself up to properly look at you,
“I can’t wait to love you for another year.”
797 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 1 year
Note
i love poly! Marauders♡
could you make a one shot where the reader gives the boys flowers and handmade gifts for the first time after their first month of relationship?
xoxo
Ugh yes our boys don't get enough gifts! Thanks for requesting gorgeous :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words
When Sirius answers the door to the apartment he shares with his boyfriends to find you standing there with a bouquet of flowers, he very nearly panics. Naturally, his first thought is of the worst-case scenario: someone else has gotten you flowers, and you’ve decided to break it off with them and be with that fucker. Alternatively, you’re upset that they haven’t gotten you flowers in nearly a week (would those ones have died already? Sirius knows next to nothing about flowers; Remus is supposed to stay on top of that) and have brought an arrangement for them to give you as a not-so-gentle-nudge. He might be sick.
But you’re not deserving of the snappy response that comes to his lips, so Sirius swallows and tries to find his gentlest voice. “Hey there, gorgeous. What’re those for?”
You grin until your cheeks dimple, flushing in the way Sirius has grown familiar with over the past few weeks: you’re excited, but a bit embarrassed to show it. “Happy one-month anniversary,” you say, extending the bouquet to him as James and Remus come into the room behind him, intrigued by what’s keeping their boyfriend so long at the door. Your eyes dart between the three of them in that nervous way of yours as you explain in a rush, “I know it’s silly, but I’ve just been wanting to give you all gifts for a while now, and no one’s birthday is coming up for months.”
“Thanks, dove.” Remus is the first of them to reply, nudging past Sirius to take the flowers from you. James is grinning so hugely it’s pushing his eyes nearly closed, and Sirius suspects he’s staring at you like you’ve hung the moon. “These are beautiful. It’s a month today, really?”
You nod bashfully. 
“Then shit,” Sirius says, collecting himself, “you’re not silly; we’re ridiculous for forgetting! Come on in, sweet thing.” He grins at you, and when you shy, as you are wont to do, at his brash manner, James takes your hand and encourages you through the doorway. “Do we have some wine or chocolate or something?”
“We do,” Remus replies, disappearing into the kitchen. “And grapes. Are you alright with white wine, dovey?” You hum in affirmation, and Sirius thanks Merlin for his refined boyfriend, without whom he and James would stock the apartment entirely with crisps and pot noodles. 
James takes you to the living room, sitting you beside him, probably not as close as he’d like but wary of making you jumpy. Sirius isn’t so cautious, plopping down next to you so that your legs and hips are squished together simply because he delights in making you flush. 
“Leave off ‘er,” James says defensively, and Remus returns, laying the snacks and refreshments on the table before sitting beside Sirius and encouraging him to lean on his shoulder. Sirius huffs in protest, but goes willingly. 
His problem taken care of, James turns his attention back to you. “Thanks for the flowers, sweetheart,” he says, and Sirius notices that Remus must have found a vase for them while he was in the kitchen. They’re sitting in the center of the coffee table, arranged prettily in water. “You didn’t need to get us a gift, but that’s so lovely of you.” 
You bite your lip, and Sirius knows you have something to say before you say it. “I, um…” you play with your fingers. He wants to take them in his hands, spreading each one between his own. “I’m really glad you like them, but those actually aren’t the gifts I was talking about.” 
Sirius watches as James’ expression turns giddy at the plural there. Gifts. 
You reach into your bag and pull out a pair of gloves. They’re gray, and they look thick, like they’re made out of some sort of knit material. They’re also huge. You extend them to Remus. “I know you can never find ones that fit,” you say hesitantly, “so I’m hoping these might work? I couldn’t measure to get it exactly right, but I think they’re big enough.” 
Remus takes them with something akin to awe in his expression, and Sirius’ mouth goes dry as realization dawns upon him. He’d always thought Remus cut the fingers off his gloves because it looked cool (admittedly, there had been several years when Sirius had copied him for that very reason), but it was because they didn’t fit. His lengthy, slender fingers had to be too long for most gloves. Sirius felt stupid for not realizing it. He glances at James, finding a similar expression of dumbfounded epiphany on his boyfriend’s face. They’d both known Remus for years, and you’d picked up on his plight over the course of a month.
“Did you make these?” Remus breathes, taking the gloves from you gingerly. 
“Mhm,” you nod, proud and sheepish at the same time. “I crocheted them.”
“You…they’re perfect. Thank you, dove.” Remus looks the softest Sirius thinks he’s ever seen him, and he feels like someone’s scooped out his guts and replaced them with syrup. 
“No problem.” Your cheeks dimple as you duck your head, digging through your bag again. This time you emerge with something red, also crocheted, and vaguely rectangular, turning to James.
He looks at you adoringly as he takes it, but it’s clear he’s as clueless about what it is as Sirius feels. 
“It’s a glasses case,” you supply. “I don’t know if you even want one, but you’re always breaking them by knocking them off the nightstand, and I thought maybe it’d help.” You shrink a bit. “Don’t worry about it if you don’t want to use it.” 
“‘Course I’m using it.” James sounds appalled, and he takes your hand in his, squeezing gently until your smile returns. “This is so thoughtful of you, angel. Really, thanks so much. I’m going to use it every night.” 
You grin hugely, all but glowing at his praise, and when you turn back to your bag, and Sirius is almost surprised there’s still one left for him. As if sitting here, basking in the happiness of all the people he cares about most, isn't enough of a gift. 
Still, that doesn’t mean he’s not curious what it is. 
You pass him a small pouch, and you’ve made it purple with a black star in the middle. Sirius loves it without knowing what it’s for. Hell, he doesn’t even care if it has a utility, he wants to frame it on his wall. 
“I know you drop your earbuds a lot,” you say, “so I thought maybe you could put them in here sometimes, to protect them. I put little loops on it in case you want to carry it or attach it to something, but you could just keep it in your pocket, if you want.” 
Sirius takes his earbuds out from his pocket, slipping them into the little case, and they fit perfectly inside. He grins at you, and when you smile back, the corners of your eyes crinkling, his restraint snaps. He lunges for you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and cradling your head with the other hand. His heart aches, and it's as much for the thoughtfulness and care you put into his own gift as it is for the joy you’ve given to Remus and James. He doesn’t think his heart can handle carrying around this much love. “Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair, and your arms come around his middle, squeezing tight. 
He takes his time in releasing you, but when he does you’re immediately captured by James, who kisses the side of your face haphazardly. Remus has gone mute beside him, but Sirius suspects both boys are feeling overcome by the same desperation to express their appreciation as he is. He doesn’t think they’ll ever get close. 
“Fucking one-month anniversary,” he says, and he sounds breathless even to his own ears. “I hope you’ve kept the night free, gorgeous, because now you have to let us take you out to dinner.”
1K notes · View notes
pearlfeline · 2 months
Text
the world's best tour guide
peter parker x fem!reader/stark!reader
word count: 2.6k
tw: none
a/n: made this longer to make up for the last one but then i went so far i didn't know how to end it lol hope its still readable because i don't think so :') enjoy ALSO HOCO PETER CALLBACK BC I MISS WATCHING THAT MOVIE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MIDDLE SCHOOL OH GOOOOOOOOD
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“There needs to be somebody else with me!” Your father exclaimed.
“Oh, well maybe you should’ve thought of that before making this fraudulent internship?”
“It’s… real. It’s real to me.” Your father gazes at you longingly.
“Soooo people are supposed to believe I have to work my way up through this internship despite the fact that we share a last name and address?” You look up from your laptop for the first time during this conversation.
“There’s celebrities out there that don’t give their children even a penny, you’re lucky.” Tony shrugs, popping a grape in his mouth.
"Plus, it makes perfect sense! You're a little builder like me aren't you?" He says in between chews.
“Those are mine,” You snag the bowl back to your side of the kitchen island. “and I’m adopted!” You shove two grapes in your mouth to one-up him. “Do you know how effed up you would be to cut off my only source of income when I’m adopted?!” You were muffled by the grapes in your mouth.
“Don’t curse.”
“I said eff I didn’t say fuck.”
“DON’T CURSE.” Tony warned.
“Ugh, where’s mom? I wanna complain about you.” You groaned, taking yourself and your laptop upstairs.
“Leaving at 11:30!” Tony shouted through the stairs.
You waved him off, rushing to your room. You continued working on your computational model simulated lab that Bruce designed for you to play around with.
“Bam.” You say to yourself as you let the 3D models crash into eachother.
“Knock knock.” Your mom says quietly.
“Mom, don't say knock knock. Just knock on the door.”
“Honey, let’s get off the computer for a second.”
Pepper closes your laptop gently. “Just go with your father hon. He’s just using this as an excuse. He wants you to work with him more he loves you.” She crouches down at your eye level, taking your hand.
“Everybody knows how smart you are, they want to work with you. Okay? Okay. Great, get dressed.”
“It's not that I don't want to go, it's the fact that I'm probably not allowed to touch anything fun or follow dad anywhere cool. Also your pep talks are getting shorter and shorter.” You huffed.
“I’m hungry. I want lunch. Maybe your dad should’ve waited for me to make my toast before asking me to come up here.” Pepper takes one last look before leaving the room. “Be ready in 5 minutes.”
You begrudgingly come downstairs.
“You look great honey.” Tony clasps his hands together.
“I didn’t even change.” You said flatly.
“…Okay. In the car.”
Pepper gives you a look with many meanings behind it. If you had to guess, her expression meant “Be nice”, “He’s trying his best”, and “Shut up don’t complain”.
You give your mom a half-hearted thumbs up before leaving.
After a little while of driving, Happy comes to an abrupt stop.
“Dude what the-” Your phone dropped to the bottom of Happy’s seat in the process.
“Here’s the kid.” Tony says, trying to hide his smile. It was evident even from the backseat.
A boy with a linty hoodie and a beaten down bag waved to the car, a matching grin plastered on his face after he realized who was inside.
“Mr. Stark!” He exclaimed.
Your dad gets out of the car, exchanging words with the boy.
Tony opens his door. “Yeah go sit back there. Now, I trust you know not to bother my daughter.”
As if on cue, Peter opens the door to see you with intimidation in his eyes.
“Hi.”
“H-Hi.” Peter sits in his seat stiffly. He extends a hand and reels it back realizing what your dad had just said.
“He’s just kidding.” You shake your head, chuckling. “…I’m allowed to greet people.”
Peter swallows a lump in his throat. “Right. Of course. I’m just not sure if I can greet people.” He wipes his sweaty hand on his sleeve before extending it out again.
“Peter.” He looks up with a shy smile.
“Y/N.” You nod, shaking his hand.
“I saw you on youtube. The robot you built? The one that could project a hologram five times its size? So cool.” He gushes.
You smile shyly, having to look away from embarrassment.
“I’ve seen you on youtube too.” You grin subtly.
"...Oh god. I was only ten, my solar system was supposed to orbit around slowly. I used paperweights instead of styrofoam balls and the battery I used was high powered, they weren't supposed to fly out like that. I even paid for the school's camera with my Christmas money-"
"Uh- no.. I meant like the spider thing?"
Dumbfounded, Peter looks over to Tony through the rear view mirror. Tony meets his eyes and gives him a wink.
"Oh... I didn't know you knew about that." Peter sinks into his seat.
"Don't be embarrassed. I think it's cool." You smiled.
Peter unconsciously smiles back at you. "Thanks.. I…try." Peter cringes at his attempt to reply to you normally.
You lessen the distance between you and him and look at him fascinated.
"How do you swing around? Lab-made fibers? It looks.. almost organic."
Peter tries not to flinch and holds his breath. He should've brought his breath mints. What if his breath stinks? He ate a string cheese before he left the apartment.
"I-I uh- I make them myself. It's web fluid. When it flys out of my web shooters, it solidifies into that flexible, strong stuff." He pulls up his sleeve to show you.
"Woah, how many cartridges do you need?" You run your fingers along the band around his wrist, staring curiously.
"They last a while, but I switch them out like every few weeks-"
"We're here." Happy yawns, taking the opportunity to stretch his arms.
"Thanks Hogan." You pat his shoulder from the backseat and get out of the car.
Peter blinked and all of the sudden, everyone filed out of the car. He frantically steps out, his eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sun.
"Here." You push him three inches to the side, bringing a shadow to shield the sun from his eyes. A really big shadow.
Peter can't help but let his mouth hang open.
"Just as flashy as I remember it dad." You said before stealing his sunglasses from his face and running to the doors.
"Hey, GENTLE! They're Dita! VINTAGE!" He shouts.
You giggled as you tried to frantically slide your keycard into the scanner that unlocked the doors.
"I'm gonna tell the receptionist they're a gift!" You yelled back before rushing inside.
This makes your dad quicken his pace, rummaging his pocket for his keycard.
Peter had never seen Tony like this before. There was someone who was alive, very real, and actually had authority over him. His child. Peter slowly catches up to Tony who's waving his credit card around the sensor.
"Sir.. I don't think that's the right card." He mumbled.
Tony looked down at his gold card, his brain short-circuiting for a moment.
After composing himself and taking out the correct card, Tony almost flung the door open, his eyes locked to you leaning over the front desk.
"Y/N!"
You turned around, the sunglasses nowhere to be found.
"Yeah?" You tilted your head innocently.
The receptionist takes this opportunity to go back to her typing after you finally stopped talking her ear off. She wasn't wearing them either.
Peter stood awkwardly behind Tony. He stared at the high ceiling and the enormous fish tank that stretched across the wall with fish he had a hard time telling if they were real.
"Gotcha." You reveal the sunglasses behind your back, handing them back to your father.
"Not my style.. Also probably not her's either. Right, Erin?"
The receptionist only shoots you a glance, her fingers never stop clacking on the keyboard.
"Kid, this way." Tony sighed, gesturing Peter and following you to an elevator.
Peter shyly makes his way to the corner of the elevator and staring at the array of buttons. He's never been in a building with over five floors, let alone a hundred.
"So... What are we doing exactly?" You asked your father.
"I thought I'd give the kid a tour." Tony says while he scrolls through his phone.
Peter fiddles with his hoodie's strings, unable to make eye contact as he's being mentioned.
"Oh." Tony stops.
"What?" You asked warily.
"I need to approve something. Something either dumb and obvious or an array of important decisions." Tony looks through his missed calls and rings a number.
"Tour my ass." You mumbled.
If superheroes do anything, they double book. Constantly.
The elevator dings and you and Peter file out. You turn around and Tony doesn't step off.
"You've been promoted to tour guide. Okay bye." Tony closes the elevator doors and you watch him descend to a lower floor.
"I went from being a child of nepotism to a tour guide? I don't consider that a promotion."
Peter was visibly dumbfounded. He was intimidated by Tony by some degree yes, but he already knew him. He's never been to the tower, and now he's alone with his child that could make or break his reputation here.
"...Dude?" You wave your hand over his face. From your perspective, ever since your dad went downstairs, Peter had been blankly staring at the floor.
"Hm?" Peter's eyes didn't leave the floor.
"Wanna meet Dr. Banner?" You smiled. It reminded Peter of a cat that knew it was doing the wrong thing.
Something about your expression told Peter you wanted to bother Bruce more than you wanted to introduce Peter to him.
After a string of trailing after you in hallways that looked like they were from the future, you slid open the keypad, and rapidly drew a complex pattern into it.
"Hey Dr. B."
"Woah." Peter's eyes wander throughout Bruce's lab. Holograms fill a lot of empty space.
"Hey mini Stark, hand me that slide rack will you?"
You were all smiles. Peter could see you were finally in your element.
"What are you doing now?" You peer over Bruce's shoulder.
"Not too close, unless you wanna put on a coat and some goggles." He says, eyes locked on the microscope.
You immediately run back to the doors, a nervous Peter Parker blocking the coat hanger.
"C'mon Peter." You enthusiastically put on a lab coat and fasten the glasses over your face. Without hesitation, you put another pair on Peter's face and throw him a coat.
You grab him by the sleeve just as he put on the coat and run back to Bruce.
"Dr. Banner, this is Peter." You smiled.
Bruce looks up from his microscope and gives a small wave.
"From what I've seen, I think he might be one of us." You chuckled.
"...And maybe one of you guys." You give Peter a teasing smile.
Peter let out a small and odd noise before clearing his throat.
"Dr. Banner, I'm a huge fan." Peter gushes.
"Hey, show him your webs." You pull his sleeve back.
Bruce’s eyes studied the webshooters.
"He's the spider guy." You say proudly.
Peter tries not to shake uncontrollably from a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
"Oh.. You made these?" Bruce blinks curiously.
Peter nods and tries to conceal his growing smile.
“He’s one of you guys. I told you.” You wink at Peter, only for him to see.
“That’s… how? How did you make these?” Bruce chuckled in disbelief.
“Can I borrow your whiteboard?” Peter asks.
After writing down the entire formula for the polymer he used for his webs, Peter finally slouches over. His work takes up a majority of the board.
Bruce stares in awe of Peter’s creation.
“Basically this is it.” Peter scratches the back of his neck.
“Visit any time kid.” Bruce chuckled, speechless. He gives Peter a pat on the shoulder.
“How about a snack?” You asked Peter.
“If you’re gonna pass this little audition with my dad, you should probably know where the kitchen is.” You sighed, pulling the goggles off your face.
“Are you sure you’re not just hungry?” Peter asks.
“Oh, I finally got the boy to let his guard down? Telling jokes now huh?” You laughed.
Peter shakes his head, smiling to the floor.
“I just met Bruce Banner.”
“Mhm.” You trail down a long hallway, to a shiny pair of doors that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The kind of doors Peter would visualize any person having a hard time opening.
Behind the doors was a kitchen area bigger than the living room of his apartment. The marble top island was like his dining table.
“Take anything.” You said casually, fetching two spoons from a drawer.
Peter walks in like he’s just attended his own surprise party. When he opened the pantry he didn’t expect a wall of snacks.
“I like these.” Peter points to the bag of mini reese’s cups.
“Then bring the bag dummy.” You snorted and opened the freezer.
“How about some ice cream?”
Peter and you somehow moved all your snacks to the balcony and you started tearing away at them almost immediately.
“You brought a lot.” Peter unwraps a peanut butter cup while you sink your spoon into your coffee ice cream.
“What are you hinting at man?” You give him a glare.
“NO! God, no I meant I don’t want to eat all this food, it’s- it’s not mine I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.” By the end of Peter’s sentence he pops the candy in his mouth, defeated.
“I’m messing with you. Dig in. Seriously though Cap is on a new diet he found on this dumb blog. I never should’ve gave him an iPad for Christmas.” You rolled you eyes.
“It’s mostly my snacks now. Sometimes Natasha eats with me when I bother her enough.”
“Cap? Cap as in?” Peter knew the answer but needed a confirmation. There was no way he could be convinced he’s in the very building where all these heroes roam around.
“Captain America.”
“And Nat?”
“Oh, Black Widow.” You say in a sultry voice.
“That’s my lady. We watch dumb movies when I come around here.” You added.
“That’s.. wow. You see them often?” Peter takes a spoon and digs into the ice cream too.
“I guess.” You shrugged.
“Just so you know, they’re all lame like me. Not as cool as you think.” You grinned at the memories you had of them hanging around.
Peter shook his head.
“You’re not lame. You’re cool. I don’t think anyone else can mess with Tony Stark like you can.” Peter chuckled.
You look down and take another scoop of ice cream.
“…Not that he’s the only reason why you’re cool. You’re so smart and really funny.” And really pretty. But he wasn’t going to say that.
“Thanks. You’re pretty cool too.”
Peter let out a dry laugh.
“No. I’m not. You should see me at school seriously. It varies from being invisible to being a-”
“Don’t call yourself a loser or a nerd before I do a flip off this balcony.” You groaned.
“Besides, what’s a nerd if not a person in the wrong environment?” You give him a nudge.
“This is an environment where nerds thrive… And the occasional superhuman.” You added.
“Then why aren’t you getting recruited possibly, like I am?” Peter asked.
“My parents won’t ever let that happen.” You sighed, opening a bag of spicy chips.
“Maybe in the future, I’ll be one of these guys, we’ll be older, and we can convince your parents.” He said.
“You’re so innocent.” You laughed. “But yeah. If you somehow land a spot here, you have to help me get in too.”
Peter held out his pinky.
“..What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow.
“I…pinky promise.” Peter held a stern expression. For the world’s best tour guide, he was willing to keep his word.
“Okay, swear?” You held out your pinky.
“Swear.”
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hoshifighting · 3 months
Note
hello!! i hope your doing well, i loved virgin reader x cheol & virgin reader x mingyu! and i wanted to ask if you could do a dokyeom version please?? thank in advance:]
virgin!reader x seokmin
warnings: first time experience, romaaaantic–dk just wants to make it special–, clit stimulation, fingering, lube, penetrative sex, candles, petals, orgasms and etc.
you had confided in seokmin just the day before, expressing your desire to share your virginity with him. he insisted on thorough preparation, adamant that the moment had to be flawless. the following day, as instructed, you arrived at his doorstep. he led you to his bedroom, enveloping you in a warm embrace from behind, his lips tenderly grazing your neck. "close your eyes," he whispered softly. anticipation mingled with nerves as you complied.
“open your eyes,” he murmured, his breath tickling your earlobe.
you gasped as you opened them, greeted by the flickering warmth of countless candles bathing the room in a soft orange glow. rose petals adorned the bed, and on the bedside table lay champagne, strawberries, grapes, condoms, and a bottle of lube—a scene straight from a romantic film.
“this is all for me?” you breathed, turning to face him. overwhelmed with love and gratitude, your heart swelled.
seokmin nodded, a gentle smile gracing his lips. “of course. you deserve nothing less.”
you hugged him tightly, his thoughtfulness leaving you speechless. “this is perfect, seokmin. thank you.”
he pulled back slightly, meeting your eyes with tenderness. “i want this to be special for you, for both of us.”
you kissed him softly, cherishing the moment. “it already is. you always make me feel special.”
seokmin’s hands cupped your face affectionately as he deepened the kiss. pulling away gently, he spoke, “are you sure you’re ready?”
you nodded, your gaze unwavering. “yes, i’m sure.”
he took your hand, guiding you to the bed where the petals rustled softly beneath you as you sat. seokmin knelt before you, carefully removing your shoes and then slowly, reverently undressing you, his eyes never leaving yours. his touch was gentle, each movement filled with respect and care.
“lie down,” he whispered tenderly. following his instructions, you settled onto the bed. seokmin joined you, his warmth comforting against your skin.
he kissed you again, his lips tracing a path from your mouth to your neck, down to your chest, igniting shivers of pleasure with every touch. “if you ever want to stop, just tell me,” he reminded you softly, his voice a soothing balm.
“i will,” you assured him, a surge of affection swelling in your chest. “but i trust you, seokmin.”
he smiled, his eyes reflecting his love. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you whispered, barely audible.
his kisses continued down your body, each one a testament to his devotion. when he reached your hips, he looked up at you, anticipation glinting in his eyes. “i want to make you feel good,” he murmured softly. “just relax.”
you nodded, biting your lip in nervous anticipation. seokmin’s mouth descended upon you, his tongue exploring your folds with a gentle precision that made you gasp. he took his time, building the pleasure gradually, ensuring your comfort and enjoyment with every touch.
"seokmin," you moaned, fingers tangling in his hair. he hummed in response, the vibrations sending a delicious wave of pleasure through you. his lips and tongue continued their dance, coaxing you closer to ecstasy with each passing second. he sucked gently on your clit, his tongue swirling in ways that made your back arch.
drawing back slightly, his warm breath caressed your sensitive skin. “you taste incredible,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
blushing, you were nevertheless aroused by his compliment. “please don’t stop,” you whispered.
seokmin smiled and resumed his attentions, his movements more confident now. your breaths quickened, shallow and rapid, as you felt the tension building inside you. sensing your impending climax, he intensified his ministrations, his tongue flicking faster until you cried out his name, your body shuddering with the force of your orgasm.
as you gradually returned to earth, he kissed his way back up your body, pausing to suckle gently on your nipples and nip at your skin. “one more,” he whispered against your ear. “i want you to be completely ready for me.”
you nodded, breathless. “yes, please.”
his fingers replaced his mouth, gliding into your wetness with ease. starting with one finger, he added another, curling them inside you and finding that perfect spot that made your world explode with stars. “how does that feel?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.
“incredible,” you managed to gasp, hips rising to meet his hand. he scissored his fingers, stretching and preparing you further. “oh, seokmin,” you moaned.
“you’re doing so well,” he praised, thumb circling your clit gently. “just let go for me.”
you did, your second orgasm crashing over you even more intensely than the first. legs trembling, you clung to him, riding the waves of pleasure until they finally ebbed away.
withdrawing his fingers, he kissed you deeply. “are you ready?” he asked, voice thick with desire.
“yes,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “i’m ready.”
positioning himself at your entrance, seokmin’s eyes searched yours for reassurance. “it might hurt a little,” he warned gently.
“i know,” you said, trying to relax.
slowly, carefully, he pushed inside. the initial stretch took you by surprise, and you frowned with discomfort. seokmin noticed immediately, halting his movements with concern etched across his features. “do you want to stop?” he asked softly, voice tender and filled with worry.
you nodded slightly, feeling the sting of the stretch. he remained still, reaching for the bedside table and retrieving the bottle of lube. “let me make it better,” he said softly, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers. seeking your permission with a glance, you nodded again, trusting him completely.
seokmin’s fingers found your clit, rubbing slow, gentle circles. the sensation distracted from the discomfort, your body slowly relaxing under his touch. pleasure replaced the initial burning, and you closed your eyes, focusing on the way his fingers moved, coaxing you into a state of bliss.
“that’s it, baby,” he murmured encouragingly. “you’re doing so well.”
tension eased, replaced by a warm, spreading pleasure. your breath quickened, eyes fluttering open to see seokmin smiling at you, love and pride evident in his eyes. “you did it, baby,” he said, voice filled with admiration.
glancing down, you saw his cock nestled inside you. the earlier pain faded into a sense of fullness and connection. looking back up at him, you met his gaze. “you can move,” you whispered, voice soft but assured.
seokmin nodded, relief washing over him. he began to move slowly, hips rocking gently. the new rhythm sent waves of pleasure through you, the earlier discomfort forgotten. each thrust was careful and deliberate, ensuring your comfort and enjoyment.
“does this feel good?” he asked, voice husky with restrained passion.
“yes,” you breathed, hands gripping his shoulders. “it feels amazing.”
seokmin continued to move inside you, thrusts gradually increasing in pace as he found a rhythm that suited both of you. pleasure built steadily, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. his hands caressed your sides, touch tender and loving.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, eyes locked with yours. “i’m so lucky to have you.”
soft sounds of lovemaking filled the room, candlelight casting a warm glow over your entwined bodies. pressure built inside you, breaths quickening as you approached the edge.
“seokmin,” you moaned, nails digging into his back. “i’m so close.”
“me too,” he groaned, movements becoming more urgent. “let’s come together.”
with a few final thrusts, you both tumbled over the edge, climaxes washing over you in powerful waves. seokmin held you close, body trembling with the intensity of his release. you clung to him, riding out the pleasure, feeling more connected to him than ever before.
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