#so i find it very sweet that my great grandmother
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narwhalsarefalling ¡ 2 years ago
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my mother taught me to crochet when i was young. she was left handed, so she taught me how in the bathroom mirror so her hands would be in the right position.
she learned to crochet from her grandmother, who was right handed. her grandma was the one that originally used the bathroom mirror to teach her granddaughter properly.
i find something poetic about that. here in this bathroom mirror, through generations, we adapt to our young who have a different way of learning and interacting with the world
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floatyflowers ¡ 10 months ago
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Dark! Percy Jackson Reverse Harem x Reader|| Chapter Two
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<<< Chapter One
Your eyes widen when you see Chiron being half horse half man.
"You are a centaur"
Chiron chuckles at your shocked expression.
"Indeed, I'm, and I'm here to guide you"
"Thank you, sir"
"Are you not going to greet me, (Wrong name)?"
You turn your eyes to stare at the dark haired dark eyes man with confusion.
"My name is (Y/n)" you correct him before asking "And you are?"
"Dionysus"
"As in the god who has a cult?"
"That's me, I miss my cult"
You nod in agreement, unsure if that was meant to be humor or a genuine confession.
"Yes, I used to rule an entire cult in ancient Greece. They all worshipped me and offered me sacrifices."
You feel a twinge of unease at the thought of being in a cult, especially one led by a god like Dionysus.
Still, you don't want to be rude, so you just smile politely and say.
"That's... great."
Dionysus nods, seemingly satisfied with your response.
"Well then," he says,
"Shall we continue on? I can show you around the camp and introduce you to some of the other demigods."
Chiron frowns, looking at Dionysus, finding his behaviour strange.
Dionysus is never friendly towards any demigod.
But now, he is offering to show you around.
Chiron never understood the gods obsession with you.
He assumed it has something to do with your powers.
"There is no need, but thank you for the offer, Luke showed me around the camp"
You say before turning towards the centaur.
"I will be going now if that's all"
The moment you take your leave, Dionysus sighs in disappointment.
"If only she was my daughter"
°°°
The cabin is all pastel pink and surrounded by flowers and cherubs statues, and it is also close to Aphrodite's cabin, which is not surprising.
But what made you uncomfortable is the glass window in your room.
You will need curtains for that later.
What is surprising is that you found tons of gifts on your bed and your wardrobe is filled with clothes.
And a note that says 'From your beloved grandmother. Aphrodite'
Also there are gifts from different deities.
For example, Hermes gave you a golden caduceus pendant with a blue diamond.
Apollo gave you healing potions.
Ares gifted you a dagger and also has a note with it 'Sharp enough to kill your enemies'
But what astonished you the most is the gift from Etos, it's a music box.
A cherubs music box, when you turn it on, it starts playing very enchanting music.
There is a long letter too.
My sweet demigoddess,
I write to you on this fine day to express my deepest love and adulation for you.
Your strength, courage, and power all demonstrate your divine ancestry, and your beauty and grace shine with the warmth of the sun.
My heart aches for you from far away, and all I desire is to embrace you in my arms and to watch you flourish with all that you are and can be.
This music box is a gift from me, once it starts playing, all monsters will flock away from you.
From your father,
Eros.
The strong fragrance on the letter makes you calm down.
To be honest, you don't hate Eros even though he never was by your side when you grew up.
Maybe the new life for you here, isn't bad after all.
°°°
"Capture the flag? As in fighting other demigods? no thank you"
You say, walking by Percy's side.
The boy showed up at your doorsteps first thing in the morning, and asked you to walk with him.
"Don't worry, I will protect you, if you stay by my side" 
You stop and look at Percy and cross your arms over your chest.
"Why did you tell Luke that I'm your girlfriend?" you inquire.
Percy smiles.
"Because you have always been my girlfriend, remember in grade one where you wanted to marry me and made a promis-"
You quickly stop him, your cheeks heating up from the childhood memories.
"I was a child"
"I don't care, a promise is a promise"
"What if I fall for another?"
Percy shrugs, with the smile still on his face.
"It would be like Icarus flying too close to the sun"
You raise an eyebrow but he continues.
"Another might get close to you but they will never reach you before they fall to their deaths"
Chapter Three >>>
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yu-huuuu ¡ 6 months ago
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Hey there! How about having the madara, hashirama and itachi's way of celebrating an anniversary with his wife as headcanons? Thank you!
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[ 🌸 ] oh...! If I were married I would like to go to a beach to do you know what thing… that's right, I'm talking about drinking pineapple with my partner while I tell him the gossip that my grandmother told me the other day-
characters: itachi uchiha, madara uchiha, hashirama senju
genre: fluff with a touch of comedy
warnings: none, spicy parts, reader being pampered by three adult men, happy married couple
...
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...
..
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Itachi Uchiha
—My sweet boy.
—He sleeps a little longer than usual to enjoy the warmth of the morning by your side, even though he has a whole list of plans of what he wants to do with you. —When he feels he's had enough rest, he gets up quietly and heads to the kitchen.
—When you wake up, he brings you breakfast in bed with a smile so beautiful and bright that it makes you fall in love with him for the thousandth time.
—He gives you a shy smile if you decide to share something from your plate with him (he'll eat it, but, don't expect him not share from his own plate with you too).
—In the end, the two of you end up feeding each other while laughing like lovestruck teenagers.
—After that, he takes you to the bathroom for both of you to take a shower before starting your day.
—He is gentle as he scrubs your shoulders, back, and chest while you just sigh relaxed with his soft touches.
—Of course, he'll let you help soap up his back.
—In the end, he wraps both of you in towels before carrying you in a princess style to the bed.
—Things… happen when you get there.
—Let's just say your legs wouldn't stop trembling for a good few minutes.
—Anyway!
—You both go out to eat at a nice place.
—While eating, Itachi's free hand plays with yours under the table.
—When your stomach is satisfied along with his, you go out holding hands and walk through the park (which was surprisingly empty) before sitting on the grass under a tree. —And now it feels like a dream to Itachi. You by his side as he feels the fresh breeze. —Your head fits like a puzzle piece on Itachi's shoulder while he wraps his arm around you, resting his head on top of yours. —You stay like that for a while until Itachi tells you he has a little surprise for you. —You’re a little surprised when he takes you to a spa. —And Shisui suddenly appears, telling him that the Hokage is calling him for an emergency. —He kisses you on the forehead before telling you he'll come back for you and to relax at the spa in the meantime, giving you some money before disappearing. —You stay there, trying not to feel too disappointed but thinking it will be quick. —When you're relaxed and your hair is styled and shiny, you're surprised to see Itachi outside the place. —Waiting for you with one of his lovely smiles along with a bouquet of flowers, as if he hadn’t left you there for two hours. —"Shall we go?" he asks, giving you his hand and the bouquet to take. —On the way home, you wonder what has him so smiley until you enter the house and find out why. —He made you dinner. —Well, it looks more like a buffet with your favorite foods combined with his. —He guides you to the table and pulls out the chair for you to sit before sitting next to you. —That's when you realize it's impossible that Itachi could have done all this by himself in such a short time. —"The Hokage didn’t call you, right?" "No, but I made you dinner." —Enjoy his food, please. —He had a great time enduring Shisui’s cheesy jokes on the way home. —When you’re both satisfied, he gives you something he’s been working on for several months as a gift. —As a gift, Itachi gave you a small book in which he wrote some poems that perfectly describe the love and affection he feels for you. —Every feeling that your words, touches, and voice evoke in him is written in its pages. —It’s a very personal and special gift for him, one that he made exclusively for you and only you, and no one else. —Please! Don't cry or he might get alarmed. —Anyway!
—At night, when you enter the hallway leading to the bedroom, you’ll see a path of petals.
You let out a soft laugh when you saw the petals on the wooden floor. Your heart was pounding hard against your chest, making you feel excited.
A small blush crept up your face as you imagined what Itachi had prepared for you. "Itachi! What is all this?"
"Another gift for the most special woman in the world," he replied with his own quiet laugh while leaving several kisses on your shoulders, as far as his position behind you allowed him to reach.
The walk to the bedroom felt relatively much shorter than it had all the previous times.
You let Itachi guide you, feeling so in love while feeling his hands over yours, caressing them with his long, cold fingers as he accompanied you.
A gasp of awe escaped you when you saw the bed. There were several petals on the bed and the floor, the window curtain was open, letting the angelic moonlight into the room, making it look ethereal and so intimate.
Your heart skipped a beat when Itachi cupped your face with such tenderness. He kissed you so gently that it almost made your knees want to give out. You smiled when you felt his hands slowly and methodically undress you.
He was definitely the man of your dreams.
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Madara Uchiha
—Many will say that Madara is already prepared to celebrate your anniversary four days in advance.
—Well, that is half true and half false.
—Don't look at me like that, the man has been preparing since the beginning of the month.
—Although…
—Don't get me started on your first anniversary (the poor guy was running around like a headless chicken since the beginning of the year. He was like that until you saw him nervous because he couldn't find a good gift for you… and there were still five months left).
—He will want to give you a special (and expensive) gift. —Although sometimes he runs out of ideas or has them but doesn't know if they are good and if you'll like them, the poor man is like: "😦, now what?"
—Sometimes he goes and asks Hashirama for suggestions (once the good man suggested for some reason that he bake a cake and bring it to you in bed as a nice surprise, he even offered to help him… it didn't go well).
—Sometimes he goes to the cemetery to talk to his brother's grave and ask for advice. He knows it's useless to ask a dead person for help, but somehow it makes him feel better and gives him more confidence with the ideas that come to his mind.
—And, in turn, it fills him with energy to continue. —Because your man may be stubborn and confident when he's on the battlefield or when he's face to face with a tailed beast, —but then you come along and weaken him, and he doesn't know what to do, aww! —Going back to before! —Girl, you hit the jackpot. —It's like it's your birthday. —He spoils you a lot, he just wants to pamper his beautiful woman (not that he doesn't do it every day, though). —He takes you to eat wherever you want and buys you whatever you want, because you know, in his words: "My wife's happiness is my happiness." —When you get back to your house, he'll ask you to stay in the room for a moment while he disappears into the bathroom. —And when he comes out with a big smile, you know he's up to something.
“What are you doing?” you asked, letting out a small breathless laugh as he held out a hand to you, which you took with amusement.
Madara smiled at the sound of your little laugh. “It’s a surprise,” he replied, looking into your eyes with love, his own body trembling with anticipation and longing at seeing the subtle playful glimmer in the rich color of your eyes.
He gently guided you towards the bathroom door while still holding your much smaller hand compared to his. Before entering, he turned to look at you, “close your eyes”
You made an ‘o’ with your mouth as you did what he had asked; to tell the truth, you were excited, very excited in fact. You heard the soft sound of the door opening and then felt the gentle warmth of the steam on your face and a smell that at first, you couldn't distinguish but had escaped when the door was opened.
A smile spread across your lips from the excitement, but you held back, not wanting to ruin the surprise your husband had prepared for you.
You quickly identified the smell, it was… lavender? A soft laugh wanted to escape you, it was your favorite and your husband’s too.
You felt his body press against yours from behind, giving you a different kind of warmth than the steam. His chest found its place pressed against your back while his strong arms wrapped around you. His chin rested perfectly on your left shoulder.
When it came to him, everything felt like a puzzle; every piece always fit in its place, your hands when you interlaced your fingers, when you both hugged or when your lips met, it felt as if the world had made you for each other.
“Open your eyes”
You did.
Your eyes opened to see several petals on the floor and on the water in the bathtub. The candles lit up the bathroom, the light was soft, giving the bathroom a special and romantic touch.
“Happy anniversary, dear,” your lover whispered before making a trail of kisses on your shoulders and back. You squeezed his arms as his hands moved over your beautiful body with the sole mission of pleasing you.
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Hashirama Senju
—Fun guy.
—He has several gift ideas he wants to make (I feel like if Hashi-Hashi had Pinterest, he would have a board specifically for ideas to make for your anniversary).
—In fact, in modern times, I can see him making ice cream with milk and crushed cookies just because he saw it while browsing the internet looking for easy desserts to make 🥺 Hashi-Hashi solves.
—Okwy, okay, okay
—Let's get to it!
—My handsome guy will wake you up a bit early to make the most of the day (he managed to escape after signing all the papers the day before and somehow left his younger brother in charge of the Hokage Tower).
—Also, he is somewhat excited and nervous about what you will say when you see his wedding anniversary gift. I mean, he spent a few months making it with such care that he fears something might go wrong.
—He insists on making you breakfast as a reward for all the times you have kindly made and prepared food for him when he has to go to work.
—But it doesn't turn out so well, you know?
—Poor thing, my boy 😭.
—Please avoid the burnt part of the egg and the overly toasted side of the bread. He did what he could 😭✨.
—After eating, you both wash the dishes (you insist on helping him after the last time you let him wash the dishes alone, he managed to break a cup… and it didn't even fall to the floor to begin with, you are still trying to figure out how he managed to break it).
—After that, you both stayed on the porch enjoying each other's presence until lunchtime.
—He will take you to the forest for a picnic lunch in nature ✨ The guy has some ideas.
—He will lean on your shoulder while nibbling on his ham sandwich (he leaves some crumbs on you, although he removes them afterward).
—After eating, he will ask for permission to lie on your thighs, he simply loves the feeling of being with you.
—You both stay talking for a while as you gently run your hands through his hair, relieving all the accumulated stress he has from his job.
—Sometimes, the leaders of other villages drain all his energy, but he keeps going, for you and for all his people!
—After that, he takes you to another place.
—He looks nervous yet excited. When you reach a part of the forest, he is practically smiling from ear to ear.
“Close your eyes”
“Why?” you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
“Just do it, I promise you won't regret it”
You smiled. Although you were nervous, you trusted your husband— whatever he was planning in that head of his.
You felt his rough hands gently taking yours to start guiding you. Some giggles escaped you when you heard him nervously trying to guide you and tell you not to trip over a rock.
Although, to be honest… you didn't feel as many leaves under your feet— could it be that Hashirama had cleaned the path you were now walking on?
Your heart bubbled at the thought of your husband trying to keep the path clean and perfect for you, and suddenly you understood why Tobirama was sometimes alone in the Hokage Tower and seemed a bit nervous when you asked about your husband's whereabouts.
A laugh threatened to escape your throat, but fortunately, you held it back. Both brothers were terrible liars, maybe it was in their genetics.
“We're here, darling,” Hashirama said excitedly. You could practically feel him bouncing a little with excitement, like an impatient child wanting to show something he was proud of.
“Alright… open your eyes”
You opened them only to marvel at the variety of vibrant colors dazzling your sight.
In front of you was a landscape with several flowers of different shades and colors. The soft scent that filled your lungs made you sigh with pleasure, freeing your mind. You vaguely wondered how you hadn't noticed the smell of the flowers before; maybe you were so focused in your mind that you didn't pay attention to it.
The gentle squeeze of Hashirama's hand softly brought you out of your thoughts. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was tinted with various colors, which only added to the beauty of the landscape before you.
“Shall we?” your husband asked, excited to show you around.
Your eyes shone, “Yes...”
And if you both did something else that afternoon, well, that would stay between you two and the flowers surrounding you.
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after-witch ¡ 2 months ago
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Horrorfest: You Better Not Let Him In [Yandere Wolfman x Reader]
Title: You Better Not Let Him In [Yandere Wolfman x Reader]
Synopsis: The door doesn't lock, and he still wants you to let him in.
For Horrorfest request: trying to hide from a wolfman but the door wont close
Word count: 600ish
notes: yandere, non-graphic mentions of violence, implications of possible sexual assault
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“Oh, please.” The words bubble from your chapped lips like a prayer. A desperate one, the kind you would whisper like a mantra as a child, eyes squeezed shut, on those nights that you were suddenly sure you wouldn’t wake up. 
Now-I-lay-me-down-to-sleep-I-pray-the-lord-my-soul-to-keep. 
If-I-should-die-before-I-wake-I-pray-the-lord-my-soul-to-take.
But there’s no use praying to the wolfman on the other side of the door.
No use at all. 
His breath is loud; you imagine how hot it must be against the door. What it must smell like: primal, like the rest of him. He pants in great short huffs from the running he did–the chasing, more like.
Chasing you from the hiking trail all the way into your little cabin (he burst through the front door, broke the lock clean off); down the hall, into what had been your bedroom for the past week.
Only there was no lock on the door–it won’t even close all the way, thanks to the faulty hinges. And there’s nothing heavy enough to put in front of it, nothing you’re strong enough to drag.
Nothing at all you could do but brace your shoulder against it, even though you saw the wolfman break the heavy lock on the thick front door of the cabin like it was nothing. 
So you know, without a hint of a doubt–
The only reason he’s not inside right now is because he’s waiting for you to open up, like a good little thing, like Red Riding Hood smiling brightly at grandmother before she gets oh-so-close enough to see the points of her sharp teeth. 
“Open the door,” he says, in a voice that is not very sweet. “Open the door, and let me in.”
There’s a sound against the wood. Scratching. A claw–his claw, he has no hands but paws with nails so sharp you’re sure they will gut you easily–dragging down the wood.
You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is press your shoulder feebly against the door, knowing he’s on the other side, knowing all it would take is a shove to have you on the floor and the door swinging off its loose hinges.
How did he find you? How long had he followed you? It all falls into place, here, on the other side of the door. The unusual footprints around the cabin. The ripped up flowers left at your door, topped with a dead mouse. The sounds in the woods--the snapping, the breath you thought had been a fox or perhaps, a lumbering raccoon.
It was him, and now--
“Open the door,” he says to your silence. Louder and lower, and you catch the sound of spittle in it. He won’t be patient for much longer. You have to make a choice.
Your heart pounds so hard you can hear it. 
He can, too. 
“Open the door,” he says, for the final time. “Or I’ll–”
Huff-and-puff-and-blow-your-house-in.
“Please don’t,” you squeak out, sounding like the prey that you are. “I’ll–-I’ll open it.”
It takes longer than you expect to force your body to move away from the door. It doesn’t want to move. It knows what’s going to happen, even as your brain whirs and whirs and tries to guess. 
He could eat you. Tear you to pieces, gobble you down like dinner. He could–he could–but oh, you know, there are worse things than being eaten.
Worse things are what you think about when he pushes the door, which half-falls off the broken hinges, and stands in the now-empty frame. 
He smiles, and his teeth are very sharp. 
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withahappyrefrain ¡ 3 months ago
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opening the door for them or pulling their seat out before they sit down with bob would be delightful!
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You had only been at the bar for ten minutes and already regretted all the decisions you made that led to this moment.
Why did you agree to a blind date?
First of all, it was with your friend's coworker. And no matter how much Natasha said it was fine, you couldn't help but be nervous.
You had heard stories of the squad Nat worked with, some good, some…not so good.
"It's not the Hangman guy, right?" You asked her when she first brought it up.
Nat pretended to gag, "You're my friend, not enemy. It's my WSO."
So there you were, awkwardly shifting in the chair at the bar as you looked towards the entrance for the sixth time, anxiety building up in your stomach and threatening to come out like bile any moment.
This was a horrible idea.
You tried dating, you really did. Various dating apps, going to different bars and strike up a conversation, but nothing seemed to work out. Sometimes you'd get ghosted, other times it would end with you curled up in a ball on your couch with a pint of ice cream while some stupid romantic comedy played in the background. You quickly learned that it didn't matter how great the first or second date went, folks will change their mind about you at the drop of a hat.
At least with Hinge or Tinder, you could see a picture of the person and speak before meeting them. With a blind date, you didn't have that, only the information your matchmaker had given you.
He went by Bob. He was a WSO. From the Midwest, specifically Montana ("Don't refer to his accent as Southern, he will go on a spield '' Nat warned you). Very sweet, but shy at first, which was why he supposedly had trouble finding someone.
He sounded nice. Potentially lovely. But you knew better by now, after years of failed attempts and broken hearts.
Sounding nice didn't guarantee anything.
You wondered what Nat had said about you. Probably that only your parents called you by your full name. That you and Nat met through college was also a given. She's had shit luck when it comes to finding someone, hopefully you can change that?
You checked your phone for the upteemth time. 7:12. He was supposed to be here twelve minutes ago. Surely he wouldn't stand you up, considering he had to work with Nat the next day?
The idea was surprising, but not shocking. Despite the intention of dating, some folks were quite careless when it came to a heart that wasn't theirs. You had been on that receiving end more times than you'd like to admit.
He probably thought the idea of going on a date with his coworker's friend was too risky, too weird. Perhaps he looked you up on social media and found an aspect of you that he didn't like. Thanks to numerous assholes, you could list off several potential reasons. Not pretty enough, not interesting enough, not affectionate enough, too affectionate, too clingy-
The list could go on and on. Thankfully it didn't. Thankfully, the sound of your name, said by a soft voice broke you out of your thoughts and made you turn around.
Oh.
He reminded you of the male love interests from those Old Hollywood films you watched with your grandmother as a small child. Sandy brown hair that was tousled in waves, piercing blue eyes that stood out against his sharp nose and rosy cheeks.
But above all, he looked kind. Truly kind. Maybe it was the lopsided, assuring grin or the way his cobalt eyes shone against the soft lighting of the restaurant.
"Bob?"
His thin lips formed into a saccharine smile as he stepped forward, extending a long arm out.
Holy shit, he brought you flowers.
You couldn't help but stare, wide-eyed and open mouth at the beautiful marigolds and orange sunflowers. You didn't know people still did that-no date had ever done so for you.
"I-I'm so sorry for bein' late. I swear, I'm always on time, I just wasn't sure which flowers to get ya. I-I mean, I knew you liked sunflowers, Phoenix told me that but I wasn't sure if yellow was overdone or if I should do something different and I'm really sorry-"
"You're perfect," your eyes widened at your own words, "The flowers I mean! The flowers are perfect and beautiful and traffic happens, it's okay!"
His smile widened at your reassurance and you swore it melted your heart. Heat rose to your face as you accepted the bouquet, your fingers brushing against his.
The two of you walked to your table. When Bob pulled out your seat for you, your heart fluttered.
There was no way this guy could be real. Why was he single?
Often, the conversation on a first date was awkward and full of long pauses.
Not this one. Not with Bob.
He asked you questions about yourself. Hell, he even asked follow up questions. And they were thoughtful.
Bob felt the same way.
Yes, he found you stunning. But you were much more than that. You were insightful, passionate, kind.
Why on Earth were you single?
Bob was determined to make everyone else's loss his gain.
"Would you want to go get ice cream?" His fingers were tapping the table, a nervous habit that you found adorable, "I mean, I get it if you're tired but if you're not, I'd love to continue?"
A downright dopey smile overtook your face as you nodded enthusiastically.
"I'd love to continue!"
You couldn't hide your surprise though when Bob all but jogged in order to hold the door for you.
"Oh, thank you! But you don't have to do that," you explained. His brows knitted together in confusion, the corners of his lips slightly downturned.
How could one man be so cute?
"Do what?" He asked, confusion all over his voice.
"Oh, um, holding the door?" Was it wrong to have brought that up? Oh God, was he going to think of you as rude?
Instead Bob smiled as he shook his head, "Nonsense. You should never have to hold the door."
Oh no. You were going to be down bad.
As the night went on, your nerves disappeared, giving Bob a sweet smile when he held the door open or pulled out your chair.
You didn't say anything when he held the car door open to drive you home, just that smile that made his heart flutter.
But when he opened the car door after arriving at your home, you stood instead of walking forward.
"I....I had a really good time tonight," the nerves came swelling back. You couldn't recall the last time you had clicked with someone so quickly.
"I did too," his smile warmed your body, "Maybe...if you'd like, we could-"
"Do this again?" God, you really hoped that's what he was going to say. You didn't think your heart could handle it otherwise.
"Yeah," he let out a nervous chuckle, "I'd love to do this again."
Your heart soared. Nat now had rights to the biggest "I told you so" but you couldn't find it in yourself to care at this moment.
"I'm not doing anything this Friday," containing your excitement was difficult. You were positive that big, dopey grin was plastered on your face right now.
Bob loved it.
"I'm not either." That was kinda a lie. Fridays were usually when his squad went out to the Hard Deck to celebrate the end of the week.
But Nat wouldn't mind and that was all that mattered.
You two exchanged phone numbers, hands clumsily typing as you both tried to sneak glances at one another.
Once your respective phones were back in your hand, it seemed like the front door was calling your name.
Not that you wanted to leave.
Offering him coffee at this hour would be silly, no one did that anymore.
"Can I walk you to the door?" His voice was timid, unsure.
"Please." It came out abruptly, as though you had lost control of your mouth, "I mean, yes. I would like that."
When Bob offered his arm, you accepted, linking yours with his.
"This is my stop," you motioned to the front door, earning a chuckle from Bob. God, he was so handsome. And his hands were so large. What would it be like to hold them?
"I had a really good time tonight. Probably the best date I've had in...a while." The dusting of pink that spread across his cheeks was downright darling.
"Could I-"
"If you don't kiss me, I might explode."
Normally you weren't one to be so bold. But the ache inside you was threatening to burst at the seams.
"Oh thank God," was all Bob could get out before pressing his lips to yours.
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artandthebible ¡ 2 months ago
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Naomi and Ruth
Artist: Evelyn De Morgan (English, 1855–1919)
Date: 1887
Medium: Oil on Canvas
Naomi and Ruth
The story of Naomi appears in the Bible in the book of Ruth. Naomi lived during the time of the judges. She was the wife of a man named Elimelech, and they lived in Bethlehem with their two sons, Mahlon and Kilion. Naomi’s life illustrates the power of God to bring something good out of bitter circumstances.
When a famine hits Judea, Elimelech and Naomi and their two boys relocate to Moab (Ruth 1:1). There, Mahlon and Kilion marry two Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. After about ten years, tragedy strikes. Elimelech dies, and both of Naomi’s sons also die, leaving Naomi, Ruth, and Orpah widows (Ruth 1:3–5). Naomi, hearing that the famine in Judea was over, decides to return home (Ruth 1:6). Orpah stays in Moab, but Ruth chooses to move to the land of Israel with Naomi. The book of Ruth is the story of Naomi and Ruth returning to Bethlehem and how Ruth married a man named Boaz and bore a son, Obed, who became the grandfather of David and the ancestor of Jesus Christ.
The name Naomi means “sweet, pleasant,” which gives us an idea of Naomi’s basic character. We see her giving her blessing to Ruth and Orpah when she tells them to return to their mothers’ homes so that they might find new husbands: she kisses them and asks that the Lord deal kindly with them (Ruth 1:8–14). But her heartache in Moab was more than Naomi could bear. When she and Ruth arrive in Bethlehem, the women of the town greet Naomi by name, but she cries, “Don’t call me Naomi... Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me” (Ruth 1:20–21). The name Mara means “bitter.” The cup of affliction is a bitter cup, but Naomi understood that the affliction came from the God who is sovereign in all things. Little did she know that from this bitter sorrow great blessings would come to her, her descendants, and the world through Jesus Christ.
Ruth meets a local landowner, Boaz, who is very kind to her. Naomi again recognizes the providence of God in providing a kinsman-redeemer for Ruth. Naomi declares that the Lord “has not stopped showing his kindness to the living and the dead" (Ruth 2:20) Seeing God’s hand in these events, Naomi encourages Ruth to go to Boaz as he slept in the threshing floor in order to request that he redeem her and her property. Naomi’s concern was for Ruth’s future, that Ruth would gain a husband and provider.
Naomi’s bitterness is turned to joy. In the end, she gains a son-in-law who would provide for both her and Ruth. She also becomes a grandmother to Ruth’s son, Obed. Then the women of Bethlehem say to Naomi, “Praise be to the Lord, who this day has not left you without a guardian-redeemer. May he become famous throughout Israel! He will renew your life and sustain you in your old age. For your daughter-in-law, who loves you and who is better to you than seven sons, has given him birth” (Ruth 4:14–15). Naomi was no longer Mara. Her life again became sweet and pleasant, blessed by God.
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ravencincaide ¡ 4 months ago
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 Not everything is as it seems 
Summary: You had every right to be angry- furious- at Chuuya, and no amount of apologies or tears was going to change that. In fact, you were considering breaking off your engagement that very second, packing your things, and leaving while putting put your relationship on hold- though just sleeping alone after months apart would do the trick. OR the time you find out that communication is both the greatest strength and weakness in your and Chuuya’s relationship. 
Inspired by Sweetober prompt 30: Cuddling + an independent part two for ‘And The Truth is Out’ Warnings: Cursing, drinking, rash decisions, guilt, tears, hurt, comfort, FLUFF and a little bit of suggestive sweetness. 
Enjoy~
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You pressed three fingers to the bridge of your nose, eyes shut tightly. You were doing your absolute best to handle the onslaught of emotion which washed over you in steady, suffocating waves; anger, frustration, annoyance, humiliation and guilt, And with them came a pounding headache which all served as a brief preview of the hangover you were certain to experience the following morning.  
“ So Chuuya, tell me once again how you did it for me or, well, what was it you said? ‘With me as the only thing on your mind’?“ you muttered, not opening your eyes or even turning to face him. If anything you dug your fingers even deeper into the bridge of your nose, your nails leaving small crescent markings on your skin. 
You heard him groan; a tortured sound as if repeating what he just said was a punishment in and of itself. A kind of sadistic torture that was on par with Dazai’s methods. “ Please” he sighed, a heavy, tired, drained sound “ Once was enough- don’t you think?” 
You growled in warning, a rather weak sound, but it was sufficient to have him tense beside you on the couch. Undoubtedly he was well aware of how angry, no, furious you were at him. Still, Chuuya hesitated. You could practically hear him chewing his lips to shreds as a pitiful distraction from your words. No, he chose silence over admitting his own fuck-up for a second time. A moment longer, then he reached for the almost finished fancy bottle of wine on the table. 
The one he bought, the one you stole at the beginning of the night.
He shook it slightly, raised an eyebrow at how little was left, and then sighed. Clearly not in the position to school you for the barbaric way you consumed Chateau Lafite. No, Chuuya valued his life more than wine and his relationship with you over the temptation of bringing up your wine consumption. Even if he had been right in his assessment that you needed something significantly stronger than wine to deal with this day and the issues that kept pilling up in your lap like a morbid magician trick. No, Chuuya was a lot of things, but he was not stupid enough to add more fuel to the fire by repeating himself or offending your drink consumption. 
Especially when you had heard him loud and clear the first time and were already walking the fine line between tipsy and wasted, or better yet, balancing the tightrope between someone he could actually reason with and.. Well,..his own definition of hell.
The silence dragged on for only a few moments before your anger finally reached a burning point; “ No, Chuuya, you’re going to explain to me exactly what you mean by the fact that you cancelled the restoration of my great-grandmother's wedding dress, forgot to pick it up. While also ordering another dress that, surprise, surprise, won’t be here in time for the wedding!” Your voice echoed around the apartment. Your hand dropped away from your eyes as you turned to face your fiance- now degraded to boyfriend- who once again wiped at his eyes. 
“ I told you, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to find out like this- m’bad I thought the store called ya. But honestly, doll, that dress was ugly, and no way in hell am I letting m’girl walk down the aisle looking like a breaded condom!” Chuuya snapped back, tiredness and tipsy shifting his position from grovelling to something snappier as he pressed the back of his hands against his eyes. 
You gaped at him, a flash of hurt at his words, then a look of horror drew on your face as your drunken mind took his words literally and conjured up an image—a look which somewhat resembled the above-mentioned once-treasured-family-hairloom dress. 
You sighed, then ran a hand through your hair. The disappointment that the dress was gone was still eating away at you. Accompanied by a sense of humiliation at the description of said dress that Chuuya so unkindly used,  More importantly, however, there was anger, something between frustration and rage at the prospect that your so-called soon-to-be would rather hide and exchange dresses behind your back while on a mission away from home instead of coming up and talking to you. No, the anger in the pit of your stomach did not allow you to let him off the hook just yet. 
The devil on your shoulder probed for you to break up with Chuuya then and there- if that was how he acted prior to marriage, only the devil knew the kind of manipulative bastard he could become once the ring (or noose) was tied around your finger. While the angel on your shoulder whispered he did it entirely out of care and love for you; Chuuya knew how much the dress meant to you, but he was also very aware that your already shaky reputation could be affected negatively by said dress. Not to mention how it would affect Chuuya’s image as an executive of Port Mafia if he let his soon-to-be become the butt of the underground society joke. 
Perhaps you did not need to be too harsh on him; a week on the couch and a half-cold shoulder would probably be more than plenty to make sure he never again tried to mess with your clothes, body or choices. Although you’d never admit it, but being separated from him for a few months may have affected your decision in his favour. 
If only slightly.
Admitted defeat, you turned to face him; “ And the tears? Surely you’re not such a pussy to cry about the dress now” you asked, your eyebrow raised as you finally looked at him, twisting and turning on the couch beside you, if not in pain, then in the very least huge discomfort. The sight of it tugged ever so slightly at your angry heart; not enough to cuddle and kiss him but sufficient to ask what the issue was. 
“ ‘Course not, baby, it’s these godamned fucking cheap ass lenses that I can’t get out. Fuck” Chuuya moaned in pain as he pressed the back of his hands against his eyes, somewhere between wanting to claw his eyes out together with the lenses and desperately trying to get the irritated tears to stop streaming down his cheeks. 
You were not even going to ask why he wore ‘cheap ass lenses’. Sometimes you just did not want to know. 
“ Come here”, you sighed and reached beside the couch towards the drawer. There you pulled out a hand sanitiser and squirted some foul-smelling liquid onto your hands before rubbing it in. “ Lay your head in my lap before I change my mind.” 
Chuuya did not need to be told twice. He dropped sideways, his body weight sprawling mostly on the couch with his head landing right in the middle of your lap with heavy, almost painful duns, knocking off his hat in the process. You glanced at it only briefly, feeling the tiniest bit of pity for the way it landed on the floor before you turned your attention back down to Chuuya. He had removed his hands from his bright red eyes, tears still streaming down his cheeks. 
The sight was pitiful, but the still burning rod of anger in you left little pity or warmth in your tone—just frustration at how childish he could be. Like an oversized five-year-old, “ You know you did that to yourself, right?” you muttered as you leaned over him and raised your clean fingers towards his eye. He didn’t even flinch, though his sensitive eye twitched several times as you touched the bottom edge of the lens and slid it downward, pinching it ever so slightly off his eye. It popped out without much difficulty;  “ Your eyes are damned sensitive to everything, and you thought it was a fantastic idea to pop some lenses in?” 
“ Come on, babydoll, have mercy” he pleaded as you purposefully took a long moment to discard the first lens before reaching towards his second eye to repeat the process. Once done, Chuuya let out a groan of relief before he wiped the last of the wetness off his cheeks. His eyes were red, irritated and likely hurt a lot, but they were already better than before you took the lenses out for him. 
Without another word; you motioned for him to sit up. Then you stood up and confidently walked towards the bin, discarding the lens. Instead of returning to the couch, you picked up your forgotten phone and reminisced wine from the couch table. 
“ Sweetheart-”
“ No Chuuya, you get the couch. So just stay there and think about your behaviour!” you grumbled, then yelped as you felt a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you backwards until your ass once again made contact with the soft leather. A little maneuvering, some gravity manipulation and you were sandwiched between the back of the couch and Chuuya, his hot breath hitting your ear, his arms cuddling you closer to his chest. 
“ Fair enough, Sweetheart, but you never said I had to sleep alone”, he purred, a smirk evident in his words as he began pressing kisses all over your skin. If apologies and explanations couldn’t pacify your anger, then maybe this will…  
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Author note:  This fic was inspired by the following dress. So if I had to see it, so do you. No, but honestly, re-reading the comments on the independent part one of the fic made me want to write something that wasn’t cheating but also equally complicated. IDK if I succeeded but ehh I had fun. Hope you did too
Until next time 
Raven 
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All fics are unique works by Šravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reposted/copied anywhere else without my consent, please inform me!
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ienjoywritingfilth ¡ 5 months ago
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the blue burrow
what if you could have everything? Well, almost everything.
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trope: sugar daddy PP character: Dave York x f reader summary: money has always been a hard thing to come by, so when a handsome man offers you everything you've ever dreamed of, you'd be an idiot to say no, right?
warning: alcohol. strippers. smoking. my usual friday night. just so you know this story is gonna get 18+ in later chapters
words 4.4k
wanna see my other stuff?
part i - the blue burrow
The parking lot is already packed when you arrive at the Blue Burrow in your black shorts and white tank top, a typical uniform for the girls that sell booze and food while the others dance on stage. 
"Evenin' sweet thing," a tall black bouncer croons to you as you approach. 
"Evenin' handsome," you parrot his accent with a playful wink as you make your way inside. 
Randy the bouncer was the first person you met on your first day on the job. It was Randy who pulled the hand of the lecherous old creep in the third row off your ass when you froze up in shock. 
You've been working as a server here for almost six months, saving up for more night classes. You couldn't afford college right after high school so years later you're finally getting back into your studies. The only issue is saving enough for both that and rent in a world that seems to grow more expensive by the day. 
You make your way to the back of the club, past the gyrating woman on stage and the glassy eyed regulars in the front row. A few men sit near the back, a bachelor party by the looks of it. Those are usually good for two things: big tips and drunken fights. You pray it's the former tonight. 
You open your locker in the back room, placing your purse inside before sliding the lock back in place. The club is in a decent part of town, but you can never be too careful. Unlike the others here your locker is free of stickers and photos, free of anything that makes it personalized. You don’t want to get too comfortable here.
A leggy brunette walks up beside you, covered in glitter, her lips puffy and glossy. It's Tiffany, one of the best dancers here. She's impossibly sweet and when she's not dancing she's working at the seniors home her grandmother lives in. 
She looks tired tonight, her forehead damp, obviously having just finished her shift on stage. When she pulls open her locker you see the framed photo of her and her boyfriend in his truck from the summer along with a magnetic mirror, a bag of makeup and a few changes of clothes.
"Good night? You ask, watching as she pulls the stack of bills from her bra and tucked into the side of her panties. She packs them into the locker and closes it, giving you a wink.
"Great night. When are you gonna get your ass up there and make some real money?" Tiffany teases. 
"As soon as I don't care what I look like naked," you shoot back with an eye roll as she giggles. 
The truth is even if you had a figure like a Hadid sister, you still would never get up there and strip for the masses. You don't judge the girls who do; it's just not for you. And contrary to what the media wants you to believe, lots of these girls are like you and me. They do this as a job, meaning it’s professional, they have goals and dreams and they’re some of the nicest coworkers you’ve ever had. From your very first day they took you under their wing when men said disgusting things as you brought them beers. You’re used to it now, used to the gross way they talk and act.
You’re used to the stale cigarette smell inside the club, used to the streaked mirrors in the bathroom and the occasional coke-head you find in the toilets. You’re used to the smell of lotion the girl’s wear and finding glitter stuck to the bottom of your shoes. You’ve become used to a lot.
You walk back onto the floor ready to start your shift, going behind the bar to grab your ruffle apron and circular drink tray. You prepare to make the circuit when something stops you mid-turn.
"My girl!"
A slurred voice sounds out from behind you and you hold in a cringe. A man in his fifties wearing a Hawaiian shirt is curled over the bar waving at you. 
"Hey Pat," you say trying to keep your tone happy as you approach. If your boss is around he'll be pissed to hear you anything less than chipper. 
"Hi honey," Pat says giving you a weak smile. "Can you get me a beer?"
You glance over at Brian, the bartender and overall terrifying figure at six foot to and three hundred pounds.
"He's been here for hours," Brian tells you sharply over the bar as he wipes it down. "I cut him off forty minutes ago but he said he wanted to wait and see you." 
“Thanks, Brian.”
You sigh before pasting a smile onto your face and heading over to the slumped-over figure who slurs something when you approach. It’s garbled, thick with mucus and alcohol and you can’t decipher it.
"You know I have to work, Pat," you say patiently. "Let's go get you a taxi." 
Pat goes to protest but you fix him with a stare that tells him you don't have time to be messed with. Like a whipped dog he stands, trailing after you over the sticky floors, past the women who wave him out with sweet goodbyes. They like him, he never messes with them or makes them feel less than.
When Pat stumbles a third time on the way out you pull his beefy arm over your shoulder and you help him out the front doors of the establishment. He’s sweaty and reeks of old booze. You wrinkle your nose.
The two of you move past some approaching men who take one look at Pat hanging desperately onto your shoulder and then smirk at one another, murmuring loudly.
“Kill me if I ever get that bad.”
You glare at the two of them, about to say something when Pat’s sour breath is on the side of your face. 
"I never see you anymore.” 
"Been busy," you inform him, grunting as you attempt to guide him to the nearest taxi. "I thought you were gonna cut back on the booze?"
"I have been I swear."
“Uh huh.”
The taxi pulls up to the curb and Pat sniffles right in your ear, a wet loud thing that make you grimace as you pull the taxi door open. You herd him towards the taxi, trying not to let your irritation get the better of you.
"I just miss her so much," Pat says and you feel your heart break. 
"I know." 
He pulls back when you motion to the open taxi door.
"Pat, I don't have time for this," you say trying to keep your tone light. "They're already going to be pissed that I'm out here instead of serving drinks inside. So help me out, huh? Or would you prefer I lose this job?"
Pat's watery eyes meet yours. He nods and he now shuffles towards the open door of the taxi. 
"There we go," you sigh, helping him into the cab, making sure he doesn't knock his head against the low roof. 
When you straighten to go to the driver’s side you notice a man standing outside the club watching you, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. He's dressed in a suit, his dark brown hair tousled fashionably. He doesn’t look like the usual clientele.
For all you know he watched the entire display so far. The thought is embarrassing. You can't see his face but you're sure it holds judgment. 
You shift your attention away and tilt down to the driver’s window to give the tired looking cabbie Pat's address. 
"I didn't bring my wallet," Pat moans from where he's seated in the back. "And I used up all my cash inside." 
You hold in the urge to scream at him. 
"I've got it," you sigh, digging into your shorts for the rumpled twenty you put there this morning. It's the money you were saving for dinner after your shift. The shitty greasy fare they serve at your job isn't exactly stellar. But you'll manage. 
The dough-faced cabbie takes it and you know from experience twenty isn't enough to take Pat home. But tonight you're hopeful he'll take pity. You give him Pat's address and he holds up the twenty as if disgusted. 
"This won't cover it."
"C'mon man. It's all I've got."
"I'll take him twenty bucks worth," the sneering cabbie tells you. "Then he's out on his ass."
Thoughts of Pat in a gutter somewhere make you panic. 
"I'll pay you the rest tonight after my shift," you plead with the cabbie. "All my tip money. Just make sure he gets home."
"This ain't a charity."
Pat is half propped up in the back seat, looking ashamed of himself and your heart breaks. You feel frustrated tears starting but you blink them away. Maybe you can borrow another twenty from Tiffany.
Before you plead for the cabbie to give you a minute to dash back inside a masculine hand moves over your shoulder, not touching you, holding a fifty in between his middle and pointer finger. The cabbie takes it, knowing full well a fifty by itself would cover the entire trip plus a tip. You turn, about to tell the mystery man just that. 
Your words turn to sand on your tongue when you recognize the man from before. Only up this close you can see he's very handsome with pouty lips and eyes the colour of mahogany. The kind of handsome that ties your tongue.  He smells amazing, something expensive you're sure.
It all combines to distract you long enough for the cabbie to take off with Pat slumped over in the back. When they peel off you have enough sense to step back, lest you get your feet run over. The man is still staring at you, his cigarette smouldering, forgotten.
"He scammed you," you finally croak. "Only costs thirty to get Pat home." 
The man shrugs, watching the taxi speed off into the encroaching night.
"Thank you for that," you tell him. 
"It's okay." The man surveys your face and his voice is soft molasses. "He always act like that?" 
"Pat? No. Not always. He's a really nice guy. Just drinks too much lately." You swallow. "His wife passed away a few months ago and he's been a wreck ever since."
The man nods, taking a drag off his cigarette. 
"I can relate," he finally says quietly.
You glance to see his ring finger free of any gold band and you understand his loss. 
"I'm so sorry."
"Why?" He asks sardonically. "You didn't kill her. Unless you moonlight as lymphoma?" 
His dark humour takes you by surprise. Before you can reply he offers you a cigarette but you shake your head politely explaining you don't smoke. 
"I better get back before I'm fired," you say. He nods, wishing you goodnight and you’re fairly certain you feel his eyes following you until the door to the club swings shut behind you.  
----------------------------
You're reading on your dinner break several weeks later when two familiar black shoes stop next to you. Gucci, if you’re not mistaken. Though you were never one for brands. You glance up the long legs to see the dark haired man from last time and your heart trips in your chest. 
"Evening."
"Hi. 
You're sitting in the alley between the club and the shop next door. It's clean and quiet and a great place to catch up on your coursework. A diet coke and crumpled bag of Cheetos rest next to you on the bench you’ve made of old crates.
The man glances at your seat before his eyes move to the book you hold, your thumb acting as your bookmark. 
"What're you reading?"
You hold up the book to show him the cover. 
"Tess of the d'Urbervilles." 
"A classic," the man says lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. You watch the smoke curl around his lips, but its his chocolate eyes make you want to keep talking. “I was never a Hardy fan though.”
“No?”
“Nah, more a Vonnegut guy. Breakfast of Champions, Sl- ”
“Slaughterhouse Five. Of course,” you say rolling your eyes. “I bet you really love Kerouac too, right? Every man does.”
“And every woman loves the Bronte sisters, Jane Austen,” he lights his cigarette before motioning to your book, “and Hardy, apparently.”
"It's for the course I'm doing,” you laugh. He joins you, a warm chuckle sounding from deep in his chest.
"Which course is that?"
"English lit." 
He nods thoughtfully, looking at you before glancing over to the stream of people entering the club. It's going to be a busy night. He must see your chagrined expression because his gaze turns sympathetic. 
"You like working here?"
"It pays the bills." 
“If you had all the money you needed, what would you do all day?"
The answer comes to you immediately. 
"Paint, drink coffee overlooking the water somewhere warm," you smile dreamily. "How about you?"
The man looks surprised, scuffing the bottom of his shoes on the low brick of the alley. "Me?"
"Yeah," you nod. "What would you do if you had all the money in the world?" 
Dave quirks a smile before answering. 
"Try to make other people happy."
"Oh that's a much less selfish answer then mine," you say with a laugh that the man joins in on. 
"I don't think you're selfish. Just honest."
He seems to be about to ask you more when the side door squeaks open and your name is hissed out by your boss; a stocky bald man that's is perpetually sweating. 
"Breaks over. We're bottlenecking in here."
"I still have ten minu---"
"You'll have all the time in the world if I fire you right now," he snarls back at you. "if you'd prefer that?"
You sigh, wiping your dusty fingers on your shorts. You cast a look at Dave that reads this is my life. Dave is glaring at the bald man who ducks behind the door before you're headed back inside after your asshole employer. 
-------------------------------
You saw him the second he entered the club a few weeks later; the man in the suit. You watched another one of the girls wait on him, deflated that you wouldn't get the chance to chat with him again.  You liked him, liked how he talked to you without raking his eyes over your chest or ordering you to fetch him another vodka. 
So you were disappointed that it was the men who did just that, that you had to wait on that evening. You ignored their leers as they watched the girls on stage. You held in a grimace when they wafted their onion and beer breath over your face asking for a refill.
You try not to be jealous when some of the dancers come out to the crowd, offering lap dances. You see several approach the man in the suit - why wouldn't they? He's dressed clean, he's handsome, he smells gorgeous and he looks like he has money.
You hold your breath, covertly watching him as they approach him. He shakes his head politely, waving off their offers. He seems perfectly content to watch in the back row nursing a glass of whisky. 
A pathetic part of you is delighted. It's not every man that can turn down Tiffany and Candi. 
But the man in the suit catches your attention a short while later as you dropped off a beer at a neighbouring table, murmuring your name. You didn't realize he'd known it. The sound of it in his silky baritone make you break out in tingles.
“Hey.”
“Hey. Was hoping I’d see you tonight.”
The man gives a calm smile up at you and you attempt to hide your delighted beam. He was hoping to see you. You can’t deny thinking about him lately, hoping every shift that he’ll be there. He’s become a bright spot to your shifts, a dream of something you’ll never have.
Men with money who drink top-shelf alcohol and wear fancy shoes. Men who comes to strip clubs when they feel like it and go home to frosty girlfriends with manicured nails. You imagine his apartment, sprawling, with leather furniture and massive televisions in every room. Despite his fondness for literature you don’t imagine bookshelves, only marble floors and sterile rooms. Plush beds for him to fuck pretty, fragile-looking girls on. Girl’s with trust funds or high-paying jobs, girls that smell like Dior and not old grease from the oil trap you often help to clean.
You’ve already got him squared away in your head, the handsome man in the suit. He’s not for the likes of you. But that’s alright, you enjoy his company when he gives it. You don’t want to ask for more.
He twists in his seat, lowering his voice to a purr that only you can hear.
"How much for a private dance with you?"
All the goodwill you'd held for him is lost in an instant. He is in fact just like the rest of them. You balance your drink tray on your hip, swallowing your disappointment but you keep your customer service expression.
"I'm just a waitress here," you mutter, your face heating under his scrutiny. 
"I'm aware." The man nods his head. "I asked how much it would be for you to do a private dance for me." 
You blink at him still unsure that he understands what's offered. But you've seen him before; he obviously knows what goes on in here. 
"I don't know how to dance," you explain, fumbling for the right words. "Sexy, I mean. I don't know how to dance like those girls on stage." 
You motion to one of your friends who is twisting around the pole with feline grace as men wolf-whistle. The man doesn't follow your gesture; he just stares at you with his arms folded over his chest. He has a look on his features that reads that's not what I asked. 
You feel sweat accumulating at the back of your knees, the commotion of the girls on the stage and the men cheering making the room feel small and suffocating. Yet the man still waits for your response with what feels like cool appraisal. 
Fuck it.
"Five hundred," you say, biting back a smirk. 
Most of the dances are from fifty to a hundred for three songs in one of the back rooms. You know it's too expensive but that's-
"Done."
"What?"
The man is standing and pulling his wallet from his back pocket and you can see several crisp hundred dollar bills stuffed inside. He pockets the wallet, straightening. 
"I'm good," he says. "Lead the way."
You stare at him a full moment before cheers for the girl onstage shake you. You nod, twisting and making your way to the back rooms. The champagne rooms. Rooms where the girl’s take the men that pay extra for private dances.
Randy looks you over, smirking as he unhooks the red ropes allowing the two of you to pass. 
"Pulling double duty tonight are we?"
You give him a pointed look. Don't blow this for me. Five hundred dollars is a good chunk of your rent. 
"Room three is open." Randy's smile drops as he looks at the tall man behind you. "Three songs, no touching the talent, you remain seated the entire time. Break the rules and you'll be fined and banned."
"Understood." 
"Enjoy your evening," Randy says nodding at the both of you before hooking the ropes behind you. 
You enter the room with its leather couch and dim lighting. There's a pole in the centre and on the far side is a set of speakers. Beside the couch is a bucket of ice and a waiting bottle of champagne. You don’t drink enough to know if it’s good or not.
"What's your name?"
He surprises you with this question. You glance over your shoulder to see him standing with his hands in his pockets, casual and nonplussed. 
You think of all the things you've overheard working here for the past year.
Never give your real name. Never go home with a guy here. Never walk to your car alone. 
"Aurora," you answer quickly, the first name you can think of as your eyes search the floor before they dart to his face. It's clear that he doesn't believe you, but there's bemusement in his expression. 
"Sleeping Beauty," the man replies in a throaty rasp. "Nice to officially meet you, I'm Dave."
"Hi, Dave."
He smirks before taking a seat on the couch, looking sidelong at you. You swallow anxiously before setting up the speakers with the music player that permanently resides there, stocked with an array of sexy tunes. 
You click the first one and the speakers blast a slow, sensual tango. You lower the volume a bit, so it's not so shrill but you don’t turn around.  
You feel Dave's eyes on your back. Is his name really Dave? It doesn't matter. You have to dance for him. For three songs. You've seen the other girls do this. They rub themselves on the clients, gyrating along to the music. It can't be that hard, right? 
You finally turn and make your way shakily over to him, forcing a smile. 
Dave makes no move to touch you, no desire to degrade you. He simply watches you sway from side to side like a middle-schooler at a dance. You can feel the money slipping away second by second. 
Here goes nothing. 
You prepare to peel the tank top off your body, painfully aware that your old bra is full coverage and likely not the sexy piece Dave was hoping for. Neither is your body which can't hold a candle to the women he's been watching on the stage. 
You hesitate.
"Do you want to take it off?"
Dave's voice reaches you as you consider your options. Five hundred dollars is on the line right now. 
"It's what you paid for."
"I asked if you want to take it off."
You nibble at your lower lip anxiously. 
"No."
"Then don't." 
Dave continues staring at you with a serious expression until your hands fall to your sides. The first song ends, the next track beginning. He settles back in the leather seat, arms wide on the backs as if he’s watching a movie.
You shift from side to side, painfully aware that this is the most awkward experience of your adult life. 
"Do you have a song you want to hear?"
"I don't really care about the music," Dave answers honestly. "I thought maybe we could talk." 
"Talk?"
"Yeah. Communicate. Exchange words." He smirks up at you before patting the seat next to him. 
“You want to talk?”
“If you don’t mind.”
You hesitate a moment before striding over and placing yourself at the edge, prepared to take off if Dave tries anything. 
"How's your class?"
"Uh, good, good," you answer truthfully.
“You’re still enjoying it?”
“Yeah, I am,” you smile. “No Vonnegut on the syllabus this semester so I’m in luck.”
Dave leans back against the sofa, chuckling a bit. You feel a flush crawling up your neck, but you maintain eye contact with him. He tilts his head slightly to the left, taking you in.
"Are you taking more classes after?"
"Yeah I wanna get my degree," you confess. "But classes aren't cheap hence me working here at night and at a coffee shop during the day."
"You have two jobs?"
He looks so incredulous you can’t help but giggle.
"Yeah."
"When do you sleep?"
"Whenever I can."
Dave nods thoughtfully, rubbing at his chin in thought. 
"Must be hard."
"It's not easy," you confess. "How about you? How many jobs you got?"
Dave smiles at your question, showing off perfect teeth. This doesn't surprise you. Dave screams money and money people always have perfect teeth. 
"Just the one."
"You like it?"
"Sometimes." 
The third song begins while he glances around the small, humid room with its soft lighting and brass pole. He turns back to you. 
"Why do you work here?"
You give him a sardonic laugh. 
"Why does anyone work? To pay the bills."
"Yeah, but why here? At this club?"
"Because they were one of the only places hiring when I was looking. And because I don't have a degree it's hard to find jobs that pay well and I need the money. Plus the people here are really nice, sometimes the tips are good and I get a free meal every shift." 
"I see." 
The music ends, leaving the two of you in absolute silence. Only the muffled sound of the main room is heard. There’s a gentle rap of knuckles on the other side of the door, Randy making sure you’re not being worked overtime. You give a half shrug to Dave, almost apologetic.
"Times up."
Dave nods, not looking upset. 
"When do you work next?"
This is another one of the rules. You should never tell a guy your schedule.
The only thing is you kinda want to see Dave again. Even if it’s just to sit here and chat with someone who finds you interesting enough to talk to. You so rarely have the opportunity to do that these days.
"Friday."
"Okay."
He stands up, pulling the wallet from his pocket. He pulls out the bills, folding them and handing them to you politely. Despite everything the action makes you feel cheap. You look down, shocked to see he left you eight hundred dollars. For three minutes of work. 
He's moving towards the door where Randy waits just outside. 
"Wait," you say quickly and he pauses, turning to look at you with surprise. 
"I'm sorry, I lied to you before. Dances are only, like, a hundred max, not five. Here."
You hold out all the money to him, feeling ashamed. You did a terrible job, not worthy of being paid at all. 
"Here,” you repeat, shaking the bills at him. “I didn't even dance."
You've never been one to lie and if he'd treated you like shit then maybe you would have kept his money. But as it is he was kind and gentle. He helped you with Pat. You don't feel right keeping his money. 
Dave looks at the money outstretched in your hand, his liquid chocolate gaze moving up your arm until it leads to your down turned face. 
"I know dances aren't five hundred," he says smoothly. "I paid what I thought you deserved."
"I didn't deserve almost a thousand dollars for a chat," you say huffing a laugh. 
"It was worth it to me," Dave replies. "Keep it."
You hesitate and then finally lower your arm, shoving the money into your shorts. He takes a moment to linger at the door, a wry smirk on his face before he taps the door twice with his knuckles. 
"I'll see you Friday, Sleeping Beauty." 
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mavrintarou ¡ 1 year ago
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[1:05 AM] Kita Shinsuke
It's literally 1 AM and I need to share this sweet Kita that I've been hogging all to myself. He's just... something else. Lol. I write a lot about Suna and Sakusa but Kita definitely holds a special spot in my heart... or elsewhere.
Warning: fluff, angst (nothing between Shinsuke x Y/n), and explicit smut. Note: it is long - I don't think you guys ever complained, but I wanted to warn you guys regardless. .
Kita Shinsuke gently caressed his wife’s pregnant belly. Then, as she slept, a soft moan escaped her lips, and she nestled closer, seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.
A few months ago, when he met his son’s first-grade substitute teacher, Shinsuke couldn’t have imagined that he would feel a longing for another woman. Since his wife tragically passed away in a car accident, Shinsuke found himself single-handedly raising their two-year-old son with the support of his grandmother.  
“Dad, we have a new teacher since Mrs. Fukada is home with her new baby.” Shinnosuke announced excitedly, “She has a new baby girl…” he paused, locking eyes with his dad, his gaze filled with longing. “Can I have a baby sister too?”
Great-grandma Shin giggled, patting the little boy’s head. “I wish for a baby sister for you, too, Nosuke.”
Shinsuke sighs softly, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Once night falls, Shinsuke gently places a steaming cup of tea before his grandmother, commencing their cherished nightly tea ritual. They found solace on the patio, engaging in their nightly heartfelt conversations.
“It is time you find a partner.”
Although he had anticipated this conversation would arise at some point, he found himself partially surprised by its timing, catching him off guard.
“Your boy needs a mother. I can only do so much. You need someone, and you should give him more siblings.”
It was always Shinsuke’s dream to have a big family. Moreover, he and Shinnosuke’s mother dreamed of more children after his birth.
“I’m just… I don’t know if I’m ready.” Even though it’s been a few years since her tragic death, he still loved her dearly.
“I know you will never be ready, but you can try.”
The following day he had promised to take his son to school to meet his new teacher, who, Shinnosuke promised, is very pretty.
“She doesn’t have a ring on her finger, dad.” Shinsuke suppressed his laugh, unsure where his son was going with the conversation. “Maybe she isn’t married yet, and you can marry her?”
“Son, that’s now how it works – “
“Hi, Shinnosuke. Is this your dad?”
The last time Shinsuke was ever starstruck was with his late wife.
Shinnosuke tugged his dad’s hand and spoke excitedly, “Dad! This is Ms. Y/n – my new teacher! Isn’t she pretty.”
True to his son’s words, she is pretty.
Gorgeous if Shinsuke was being honest.
He felt hot all suddenly.
“Hello,” he greeted, praying his face was not tomato-red. “I am Shinnosuke’s father, and I hope he has not been a handful.”
Her smile radiated warmth, captivating Shinsuke’s gaze.  
As she stepped closer, a gentle fragrance of sweet perfume reached his nose. “Not at all,” she replied, her voice carrying a touch of admiration. “You have a remarkably well-behaved and intelligent son.” She affectionately tousled Shinnosuke’s hair, and he leaned into her touch like an adoring puppy.
Shinsuke longed for her hand to pat his head at that moment too.
.
Shinsuke attempted to keep his distance from Ms. Y/n. Instead, he would merely drop off his son outside of school, making arrangements to pick him up at the gates if he could, all to resist the overwhelming desire to do anything but kiss Ms. Y/n passionately until all his desires were fulfilled.
He could not give in to temptation.
But Shinsuke ran into Ms. Y/n everywhere.
At the grocery store.
At the salon.
At the clinic.
Complicating matters further, his son held a deep affection for her and frequently spoke about her with admiration.
His last hope for maintaining his distance and preserving his sanity unraveled when circumstances forced him to accompany his grandmother to the hospital due to a precautionary overnight admission for a cold. This left his son alone at home, intensifying his concerns.
“If you don’t mind, Kita-san, Shinnosuke can stay with me until great-grandma is released.” A look of surprise filled his eyes as he absorbed her thoughtful suggestion. Shinsuke was overwhelmed by the immense responsibility of managing his rice field, tending the crops, and caring for his grandmother; he struggled to ensure his son was never left alone at home.
Despite his gratitude towards her, he hesitated momentarily. However, when he glanced down at his son, whose eyes sparkled with anticipation, he couldn’t resist. “Please, dad?” his son pleaded, his excitement palpable.
Shinsuke sighed before agreeing; he crouched down, “You must listen to Ms. Y/n and behave.”
“Yes, dad.”
.
Shinnosuke was smitten by Ms. Y/n.
When Shinsuke arrived to pick up his son, he felt a pang of disappointment upon seeing his dad waiting at the door. “Do we have to go home, dad?” his son pleaded, his eyes longing. “Can’t we stay here with Ms. Y/n?”
“Shinnosuke,” Shinsuke called out his son’s name, his tone laced with a warning, the kind used when it was necessary to reestablish authority. Upon hearing his dad’s voice, his son’s shoulders slumped, and he turned away to retrieve his belongings. “Sorry,” Shinsuke apologized quietly, blushing under Y/n’s gaze.
“Don’t be. He is still young and doesn’t know any better.”
Shinsuke couldn’t help but observe her casual attire, with sweatpants and a loose shirt. “Regardless of that, he was being rude, and I need to have a conversation with him,” he stated, taking a deep breath. “thank you. I am truly grateful for your understanding and for looking after him. I can’t express my gratitude enough.”
“He was very helpful, I made him help me with chores, and we cooked together, so it wasn’t quite a vacation for him.”
Shinsuke’s throat tightened as he struggled to find his words. Nervousness consumed him to the core. “I…” he stammered, his voice quivering, “may I… may I take you out? It’s just my way of saying thank you.” As he uttered the question, her eyes bore into his soul, intensifying his anxiety. In that moment, panic surged through him as if he had ventured beyond the acceptable boundaries. “Please,” he hastily added, fearing she might feel obligated, “don’t feel obligated – “
“How about a date?” She interjected, catching him off guard. His eyes widened in surprise as her words sank in. “Take me out on a date,” she added, her tone laced with anticipation.
.
Nervousness consumed him throughout the date, hindering his ability to relax and enjoy the date fully. However, a wave of relief washed over him when Y/n reached across the table and gently touched his hand, reassuring him with a playful remark, “relax, I won’t bite.”
He wanted nothing but her to bite him because he only wanted to devour her.
They had dinner and walked along the river, getting snacks.
As they conversed about their lives and aspirations, Shinsuke watched her gracefully twirl and walked along the ledge, seemingly at ease.
Her warmth and vibrant personality enveloped him, and with each passing moment, he found himself falling deeper in love with her. Finally, stepping up beside her, he extended his hand, inviting her to grasp it as they walked along the ledge together.
“Kita-san,” she called softly, brushing loose strands of hair behind her ear. Concern etched across her face as she gazed into his eyes. “Is something troubling you?”
Y/n towered over him, her height surpassing his by two heads, causing him to tilt his gaze upward to meet her eyes.
Throughout his life, he had always been forthright with others, never shying away from expressing himself. However, he faced a challenging dilemma in this particular moment: between maintaining his hidden emotions or finally revealing everything. The decision weighed heavily on his mind, causing a moment of uncertainty.
He let out a sigh, realizing that he had nothing left to lose except for her. However, he knew deep down within himself that everything he had been feeling up to now surely meant something. He couldn’t possibly be the only one feeling this way. He had to be honest with her. It was a necessity, a longing that couldn’t be ignored.
“I really like you.” He responded in a hushed tone. “You’re a young single woman while I’m a single parent dad with a six-year-old son,” he began, acknowledging the difference in their life stages. “Yet, despite that, I haven’t felt this certain about anything in a long time. He found out tonight that he was seven years older than her.
“I must confess, Ms. Y/n, that I am undeniably attracted to you,” he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. “I apologize if my previous actions seemed rude, but I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance from you, to suppress these feelings I have for you.” He paused, carefully considering his words. “I don’t want to presume that you share the same sentiment, but every gesture, every glance, every smile you give me, they only deepen my desire for you.” A small smile curve his lips, “I can’t help but want more and more.”
A weighty silence hung in the air, the only sound being the gentle rustling of Y/n’s hair dancing in the wind. She fixed her gaze upon him, eyes locked in a wordless exchange.
“You have so many options, while I… I am limited,” he admitted with a hint of vulnerability. He paused, reflecting on the conversation they had just shared. “Listening to you speak of your goals just now; made me realize that perhaps we might be on different pages.” A furrow formed between his brows as he held her gaze, trying to discern her thoughts within her silence. “I might be over my head saying this, but I want to be upfront with you.” He exhales softly, “if Shinnosuke and I aren’t long-term possibilities for you… please tell me now so I can release you from any obligations.”
She playfully waved her fingers, beckoning him to come closer. As soon as he was within reach, she lightly flicked his forehead, a mischievous smile on her face. “You’re so mean to doubt my sincerity,” she teased, leaning to kiss the spot she flicked. “I wouldn’t be right here with you if I didn’t have deep feelings for you, too, Shinsuke.”
Hearing his full name uttered by her made his heart skip a beat.
He stares at her, looking at her longingly until she reciprocates the words, “I like you. I really like you too.” He releases his breath; he cannot contain the smile on his face. “Can I kiss you?” she whispered, leaning closer to him already.
“Please,” he begged.
Still leaning over the ledge, she brushed her lips against his before moving her mouth into a deep kiss.
She was the first to pull away, inhaling to catch her breath.
Shinsuke’s face turns a shade of pink, feeling lightheaded and on cloud nine.
Y/n stepped down from the ledge, and Shinsuke made a move to take her hand again, this time intertwining their fingers.
“Shinsuke, I might be bold asking you this on our first date, but… do you want more kids?”
Her question caught him off guard, but he quickly answered, “of course I do. Do you want children?”
She glanced at him, a smile on her lips, and she nodded. “I do.”
He smirked, “how many?”
“Maybe… two or however many…” she glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, “my future husband wants.”
Shinsuke was flustered by this woman, arousing him in all ways.
Glancing at his watch, Shinsuke couldn’t help but wish that the night could stretch on indefinitely. However, he also wanted to be a gentleman and ensure she arrived home before 10 PM.
She was about to keep walking down the path when he halted her. “Y/n,” he called her name softly, “I don’t – I don’t want the night to end, but I want to be a gentleman and bring you home….”
“Then don’t…”
His brow raised at her question, “what?”
She stepped forward, staring at him, “don’t be a gentleman then.”
He let out a low groan, his throat constricting as he struggled to suppress the lump forming within. “Please… stop,” he managed to choke out.
She closed the distance between them, eliminating any space that could fit even a piece of paper. Her large, doe-like eyes locked onto his, causing his knees to weaken and his palms to grow sweaty, and cock to expand excitedly inside his trousers. Finally, she whispered, “what do you want, Shinsuke?”
.
They barely made it through her apartment doors when he pulled and tugged her clothes off.
“Bedroom,” he growled against her mouth, “please,” he begged seconds later. Trails of clothes led to her bedroom; he could barely spare a second to break away from her lips to pull his shirt over his head.
Her blouse and skirt were discarded by her ankle, and he pulled away to admire her. He reaches behind, unclasping the clips to her bra and letting it slide off her body. Then, with her white panties left, he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. Then, he locked his gaze with her, searching for a reflection of the fiery, passionate emotions that consumed him.
He doesn’t realize he has been biting his lower lip until she reaches up to tug it free. “Shin…” She guides his right hand to her breast, and his large rough hands instantly palm the mound, kneading the soft tissue, earning himself a soft moan from her. “More,” she begged, pressing the other hand to the other side. “Touch me, please.”
Shinsuke kisses her hungrily while his hands massage, squeeze, and flicker the hardened nubs. Her tongue meets his eagerly, dancing and swirling with his.
He pulls away to tug his belt, undoing the buttons before letting his trousers drop to his ankles. Even in the dim light in her room, he could see the damp, dark spot where his cock was leaking.
She drops onto her knee before him, and his eyes widen before he can stop her; she pulls the waistband of his boxers, freeing his cock. She was mesmerized by how thick his girth and heavy his sacks hung.
It had been a long time for Shinsuke and having Y/n’s fixed gaze on him only excited him more.
“Y/n…” he breathed; whatever else he had to say went down the gutter as her lips enclosed around the thick bulbous head. He lets out several foul words as she takes as much of his cock into her mouth, her jaw expanding to fit the width of his cock.
Y/n slurped and suckled to the point that Shinsuke felt he would embarrass himself soon if he didn’t stop her.
She pulled back but not releasing him when he gripped her hallow cheeks gently, “enough… or else I won’t last.” He steps back, freeing his cock from her lips with a pop. “Please stand.”
She did, and it was his turn to get down on her knee to pull her remaining piece of clothing down her legs. He looks up at her with a soft smile, “please take a seat on your bed.” She follows his command, and he spreads her legs and swoops in between, licking along her slit to her small, hidden nub.
Shinsuke slips a finger inside her, slowly thrusting before adding two additional fingers. He wanted to stretch her out; he didn’t want her to be uncomfortable when he replaced his fingers with his cock.
He had always perceived himself to have an average-size­ physique down there until one day, his under-classmate, Miya Atsumu, announced it loud in clear to the entire volleyball team in the locker room.
“Holy shit, Kita-senpai!”
Shinsuke had left his towel on the bench by his locker and had no choice but to return after a quick rinse completely naked. Everyone was getting dressed and didn’t bother paying attention to him until Atsumu casually glanced over and then had to double look, eyes bulging as he stared at Shinsuke’s private area.
And like boys, they all compared their sizes amongst each other.
That day, Kita Shinsuke was not only the captain of the boys’ volleyball team but also the thickest down there.
“Shin,” Y/n whispered, “you… I want you.”
He sat up, fingers still buried and working within her as he leaned over and kissed her. “Need to prep you – I don’t want to hurt you.”
She reached for his cock; her small hand felt good around it; he couldn’t wait to feel what her walls felt like. “You won’t hurt me… I can take it…”
The innocent teacher he was smitten by is replaced by a teasing minx. “You sure?” He teased, “what if you cannot walk tomorrow?”
Her grip squeezed around his cock, “thank goodness tomorrow is the weekend then?” she leaned to peck his chin, “Shinsuke, fuck me, fuck me until I can’t walk tomorrow….”
A low grumble escaped his throat before she was shifted onto the middle of the bed, he paused, and she sensed hesitancy. “I… don’t have a condom.”
“I don’t either.”
Shinsuke groaned as she unconsciously bit her lower lip. “I can pull out; do you trust me?”
She locked eyes with him, her gaze unwavering. “Shinsuke, if I didn’t trust you completely, you wouldn’t be here right now.”
He chuckled and kissed her quickly, “stop making me fall for you.” He whispered that and impaled her in a swift thrust. His forehead pressed against hers as neither could speak but only feel one other. He gave her a second to adjust and accommodate his size before she gave him the silent green light.
He gave light shallow thrusts until the pained expression became a pleasant expression.
Shinsuke needed to not only feel her deep inside but needed to press himself against her. He held his weight off her, but his chest pressed against her.
He threads his fingers through hers again, pinning her arms beside her head. He fastened his hips, thrusting deeper each time and feeling his heavy sacks ricochet against her ass.
God, he wanted to breed her.
The animal instinct in him just wanted to breed her over and over. Impregnate her so she will be stuck with him forever—he and Shinnosuke.
He was already pinning her down; all he had left to do now was cum inside her… forcing her to take his seed.
He would cum inside her over and over until she was overfilled to ensure his seed took place, and a baby… their baby is conceived.
But that would be for another time.
“Y/n…” he groaned, feeling ready to explode. It has been a very long time since he’s ejaculated. He needed to withdraw now in case his timing was off. “You feel so – “ his words are lost when he feels her legs wrap around his waist and arms around his neck. “Y/n – no… I’m – about to –“
As their bodies pressed together, her chest brushing against his, she locked eyes with him. Her gaze was filled with seductive allure, her eyes hooded and shimmering with a glossy sheen, “cum – cum inside Shin… cum inside me….”
“You –“ he tried to shake off her legs, but they only locked tighter, “you don’t know what you’re asking for…”
“Give me a baby, our baby….”
He quickly succumbed to the overwhelming pressure, causing him to crumble.
“As many as I want?” When she looked at him, slightly confused, “many as I want? Right? I’ll marry you, and you’ll give me as many babies as I want?” She did not need to answer him verbally; he felt her walls squeeze him repeatedly as her womb screamed Yes! Yes! Yes!.
He let go of her hands, hooked his arms underneath her legs, and hiked them over his shoulders. He mounted on her, bending her in half before pounding into her, “you’re mine, Y/n. Kita Y/n. Mine.”
He embraced her passionately, envisioning a future where they shared the same surname, and eagerly anticipated the joy of starting a family together.
“Y/n,” he let out a soft moan near her ear, his body quivering in a release as both their bodies trembled together.
.
“Shin,” Y/n whimpered, “how – how can you… too much…” She could barely lift a finger. However, Shinsuke has been going nonstop. Finally, after three rounds back-to-back, he wiped her down and laid beside her after truly making sure she would not be able to walk.
He has pushed her beyond her limits, bending and pushing her into positions she had never felt so vulnerable.
She lost count of how often they’d engaged in such intensive intimacy.
It was early morning when his husky voice woke her up, his hands grazing her sensitive body and shifting her so he could slide in easily.
It was in the moment when she blabbered, permitting him to cum inside of her.
She wouldn’t be surprised if she were pregnant after these sessions. She learned of Shinsuke’s breeding kink – cumming inside her with an excessive amount of cum that the both of them were a mess of body fluids.
He whispered lewd words into her ear, telling her how good she was at taking in all his seeds. He could not wait to marry and see her round with his baby… babies because he wanted a big family. He was a man of his word, ensuring she would be pregnant after he was done.
And he was nowhere to be done.
She lay flat on her front side; his grip on her waist had become numb as he pounded into her from behind.
.
Y/n busied herself with setting the table, briefly glancing up as Shinnosuke murmured something she couldn’t quite catch.
He finished setting the table with her when he came around to her side, tugging the apron she wore.
She crouched down to his eye level, “what’s wrong?”
He leaned in closer, his tiny hands cupping her ear as he whispered with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, “can I… can I call you mommy?”
Y/n’s eyes widened with surprise as she gazed at him before responding, “do you want me to be your mommy?”
He nodded, his silver hair with dark tips fluttering, resembling his father’s. “I pray with granny every night, hoping you’ll become my mommy,” he confessed earnestly.
A month ago, Shinsuke and Y/n told Shinnosuke they were dating and seeing each other. Shinnosuke was overjoyed, sharing the information with all his friends and other school staff the next day.
Shinnosuke cherished the morning walks to school, gripping his dad’s and Ms. Y/n’s hands tightly. It filled him with a sense of warmth and belonging.
Y/n started to spend dinner with them and would head home after Shinnosuke went to bed. Then, of course, Shinsuke would take her home…
“Move in with me,” Shinsuke whispered; every night after their few rounds of lovemaking, he would ask the same question again.
As always, Y/n would answer softly, “soon.”
He would return home in the morning before Shinnosuke woke up.
Y/n gently ran her fingers through Shinnosuke’s hair, a tender expression of affection on her face. She adored the young boy, and in the brief period they had spent together, her heart had opened to this father and him. She had fallen in love with both of them deeply.
From the moment she first encountered Kita Shinnosuke, something about the boy inexplicably drew her in. As she inquired about his name and hobbies, his reserved yet bashful demeanor instantly sparked a connection within her.
“I like to garden with my dad.” He answered quietly, avoiding eye contact.
Every morning, she instinctively searched for him in her classroom, ensuring he was present. He was an intelligent and radiant student, and she cherished every moment with him. However, she couldn’t help but notice that his grandmother always picked him up after school while the other parents collected their children.
Y/n asked him one afternoon as she waited with him for his grandmother to show up. Shinnosuke was usually the last student picked up. “My dad is busy with the crops, so he doesn’t get home until after school; that is why my granny picks me up.”
Something deep within her urged her not to probe any further regarding his mother, as he seldom spoke about her.
It wasn’t until Mother’s Day that she organized an activity for all the students to create artwork to gift to their mothers. As the day drew to a close, she noticed Shinnosuke still seated at his desk, gazing at her. Concerned, she asked him, “Shinnosuke, why aren’t you getting ready to go home?” Then, she crouched down and inquired, “is everything all right?”
He nodded his head, a small smile on his face. “I have something to give you.”
Y/n raised a brow, “do you?”
He nodded his head again and pushed his artwork towards her. “Can I give this to you? I don’t have a mommy.”
Y/n’s heart ached for the boy. Everything suddenly made sense to her – why he rarely mentioned his mother.
By the grace of God, she met his father the next day.
And fell in love with him.
“What are you two whispering about?” Shinnosuke and Y/n spun around to find Shinsuke leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and one leg over the other. His brow raised as he observed them. “Are you two planning something without me?”
Shinnosuke chewed his lower lip nervously. “I asked Ms. Y/n if I could call her mommy.”
Y/n shared glances between father and son, noting the striking similarity in their expressions. She has seen some photos of
“And what did Ms. Y/n say?”
The boy anxiously glanced at Y/n, awaiting her response.
Y/n reached out and gently took hold of his tiny hands, cradling them in her own. “Shinnosuke,” she said softly, “you can call me whatever you feel comfortable with. If you want to call me mommy, I would be honored.”
His hazel-green eyes welled up with tears,  and he turned to glance at his dad as if seeking confirmation that he wasn’t the only one who heard it.
Y/n shifted her gaze to see Shinsuke approaching them. He crouched on one knee, stepped forward, and presented a small black velvet box. Then, with a heartfelt tone, he spoke, “Y/n, would you also be honored to be called my wife?”
“Please, mommy?” Shinnosuke pleaded, his eyes filled with anticipation, mirroring his dad’s hopeful expression.
“Will you marry me, Y/n? And join us here, with Shinnosuke, granny, and me?” Shinsuke’s quivered with emotion, but he pressed on, his eyes locked with hers. “Together, we can create the family we’ve always dreamed of and build a life together as partners.”
Y/n’s voice caught in her throat as tears streamed down her face, struggling to regain composure. She hastily wiped away the cascading tears, desperately seeking an explanation. “Did you two… plan this?” she choked out.
In a striking display of synchronicity, the father and son exchanged lopsided grins before responding, “yes.”
A soft sniffle escaped her as she gathered herself, her voice filled with emotion. “Yes,” she replied, her eyes glistening with tears, “I would be deeply honored to be your wife, Kita Shinsuke.”
Shinsuke exhaled deeply, a sense of relief washing over him as he reached into the box and retrieved the ring. Sliding it onto her finger gently, he leaned in and tenderly kissed her hand. Then, without hesitation, he pulled her into a warm, embracing hug, his voice filled with sincerity. “I love you, Kita Y/n.” Finally, he gently released his embrace on her and extended his arms to welcome his son into the fold. “We’re a family now,” he murmured, voice filled with warmth and joy.
.
Life immediately changed in the Kita household.
Y/n and Shinsuke were married quickly in a small and intimate gathering; they exchanged heartfelt vows, surrounded by those who witnessed their profound commitment and their undeniable love for each other.  
Neither could believe that a year had elapsed in such a short time.
As summer arrived and the children enjoyed their break from school, Y/n began to notice the subtle changes in her body. After confirming her suspicions, she felt a mix of excitement and anticipation. Finally, the time had come to share the joyous news with her husband, letting him know she was finally pregnant.
Shinsuke couldn’t help but feel and act surprised and delighted as Y/n shared her news, even though he had already suspected it for some time. The unmistakable pregnancy glow, her fatigue, and the increased sensitivity during their lovemaking had all been telltale signs. Deep down, he had known all along, but hearing her confirm it brought him a renewed sense of joy and anticipation.
The physical changes to her body had become more apparent, making it difficult to conceal the news longer. Y/n leaned close to Shinsuke, her voice barely above a whisper, filled with excitement. “Shinsuke,” she breathed, her eyes sparkling, “we’re having twins.”
And he couldn’t have expected anything less. A wide smile spread across his face as he embraced Y/n, his heart brimming with joy and excitement for the blessing of twins.
. . .
E/n: To be clear, we know between the Inarizaki boys... Aran is probably the longest... I hope you enjoy my version of Shinsuke - in my head, he is definitely the top HQ character with the biggest breeding kink.
>>>@queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy
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tarotwithavi ¡ 2 years ago
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Random things about your 2023 . Short reading
Masterlist ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ paid reading
✧༺♥༻✧
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 1
Hello pile 1 , I'm seeing that you're very closed off to new opportunities right now and might be addicted or obsessed with something that isn't good for you and life will make you get rid of your toxic habits by a tower moment in your life. You just have some toxic cycles going repeating constantly in your life and it is going to change in the year 2023 .
Pile 1 , I see you getting your spiritual awakening in the year 2023 . This is going to be a tough cycle for you but remember it's for the best of you. I see that sometimes you might feel like doing nothing and just letting things flow on their own pace.
You have a weird way of looking at people, I'm sorry but weird is not the right word for it but it's just that you see people as something you should stay away from and you see World as a dangerous place. And that's why you mostly stay indoors. That perspective of you is good to change soon after you have your awakening.
I get that you might suffer from seasonal depression and it might be in the months of may - june. These two months are going to be life changing for you. Something great with happen in these two months that'll make you love life again.
I don't know if you know about Krishna consciousness, but it's a great thing. I've heard that it works wonders for people and changes their life for the best.
If you're thinking of travelling abroad I see you travelling in different countries.
You might get financial help from someone or you're going to help someone financially.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 2
Alright pile 2 , 2023 is going to be your rich bitch era. Like money is going to be attracted to you. If you're family is having some financial problems they are going to be solved.
I see you connecting more with a female figure in your family. It could be your mother, grandmother , sister or even your best friend.
If are manifesting something right now , I see all of your manifestations coming true in the year 2023 .
If your into LGBTQ community I see coming out to your family and your family accepting you the way your are. This message is specifically for my lesbians, you're going to get a girlfriend.
My artists are going to get a lot of recognition for their artwork! And I see a lot of you getting in tune with your inner child.
If you live away from your family , I see you reuniting with them. And going out for a picnic with them. This year is very positive for this pile! It's so sweet!
A lot of you are going to meet your twinflame / soul mate soon. You'll most likely meet them through family or friends. I'm seeing a celebration, so you can meet them in a party, wedding etc.
I see you finding your soul purpose and destiny. I don't know it just came into my mind. I am seeing a boat reaching the coast idk take how it resonates.
If you've been manifesting your other half, I see you meeting your counterpart. A lot of you are going to experience true love.
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
Pile 3
Pile 3 I feel like you're not listening to your intuition and that might get you in a toxic Situationship. If your get odd feelings from someone like goosebumps , odd feeling in your guts stay away form that person. They're not good for you.
Alright so what I sense is that you might encounter a fake tarot reader or a scammer so stay alert. If someone tells you to do spells on your own , never do it. Because spells are very powerful and they can backfire.
Though it's okay if you do beauty rituals like having aura cleansing bath, a simple beauty spell . But love spells can back fire very easily. And never I mean NEVER involve yourself in black magic.
I see getting a lot of proposals from men who want to court you. Choose Carefully because one of them might be a obsessive lover.
If don't have good relations with your father, you might need to cut your relations with him. More like I see that your father is too controlling and you decide to go against him which will result in some arguments.
I See you reuniting with your old friends.
I see you getting victory and recognition for your work. But remember not to be over prideful ( lol is that even a word? )
If you're pregnant I see you giving birth to a healthy baby boy. And if you're thinking of having a baby I see you conceiving. '
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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where-the-water-flows ¡ 4 months ago
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ok so like, maybe I am missing something, but. is almost every action/plan carried out by nanyin associated folks to revive nanyin just... absolute clownshoes nonsense? every single attempt is just nine fuck ups in a trench coat before the plan falls off a cliff, and/or gets fully coathangered by someone else's completely unrelated plan at the last second?? Like...
Princess Longxuan, Li Xiangyi's + Jiao Liqiao's mumble great grandmother (?), first cab off the rank re:attempting to revive nanyin. Her husband - who is the fucking crown prince of Xi, and thus should have been a basically guaranteed way to get the nanyin bloodline on the throne, no more plotting required!! job jobbed, everyone take a real long lunch!! - seems to have either decided on his own or been convinced (by her? I guess??) to be like 'fuck waiting to inherit the throne when my dad the emperor dies, life is short and coups never ever go wrong', and then fucked that up so bad they got executed and also consigned to the shame tomb for eternity about it. on the one hand, wild that she did not get executed prior to the failed coup, given everyone seems to have known? she was from nanyin?? which literally falls the day after her wedding???? I don't know enough about historical Chinese customs here w/r/t if she would have been considered to have fully 'married out' and thus be....not of nanyin and presumably thus an enemy of the state...even though she clearly still thought of herself as being of nanyin???? also, this is assuming that nanyin is an enemy of Xi! maybe they were allies, and when nanyin fell Xi was like ':( oh noooo.... anyway.' , but I....do not get that impression. on the other hand. girlie your husband is the crown prince. you have a son with him, thus securing the bloodline already. you are, presumably, a fucking shoe in for inheriting the throne? how did you fuck this up. I know it might have just been your husband being impatient but also good lord, talk about an own goal.
Feng A-Lu, nanyin sorcerer, secret great grandfather(ish) of the current emperor of Xi. second attempt to do anything about getting nanyin bloodline on the throne. fucks up and does not find the heir even a little bit. On the one hand, finding some kid/teen in a forest is probably reasonably difficult, given the circumstances, on the other hand, c'mon man. you had one job.
Jin Yu Huang Quan, the og guys holding the ice keys. fully just decided to simply say no thank you!! to bringing back nanyin, the thing they were explicitly entrusted with doing. not really a fuck up on their part, because they got sweet cash money out of it, but also, very funny they were collectively just 'friendship ended with reviving nanyin, being rich in Xi is our new friend.'
Feng A-Lu, again. also fucks up what is presumably the back up plan to take over Xi with the power of the karmic bug (and murder), because he gets distracted by a pretty girl, and then practically attic wifes himself. on the one hand, not really his fault consort Ying was planning her own 'and then I will be emperor empress, mwuah-ha-ha' thing, on the other hand, c'mon man, stop thinking with your dick for five seconds.
Feng bloodline / Wansheng clan. misidentifies the orphan heir they've been looking for. literally would have been better off not checking the signs (necklace, birthmark) and just picking one of the two possible options at random, because that would have given them a 50/50 chance of picking the right kid. not really their fault for assuming the kid with the identifying necklace is actually the kid with the identifying necklace they're looking for, but still. fucked that one up right good. the fact that even if shan gudao had won nanyin still wouldn't have managed to get their royal bloodline on the throne is incredibly funny.
Shan Gudao, sigu sect era. leaving as read he's not actually nanyin royalty anyway and thus literally everything he does is by definition clownshoes fuck up from the start; sigu sect era he is presumably planning to get close to the emperor via...sigu sect becoming allied with/part of the imperial court?? and then launching a coup from there. maybe also picking up the karmic bug, only he screws that up too, RIP to the 14 thieves. manages to ally with the court! plan derailed because surprise, li xiangyi has learnt a new trick, and it is: basic diplomacy. has to fully fake his death about this for a literal decade. hilariously bad outcome, nice job mate.
Shan Gudao, again. retrieves (via jiao liqiao via di feisheng+fang doubing+li lianhua) the karmic bug box he failed to get his hands on a decade ago. manages to finally collect all four ice keys. unlocks the karmic bug box. immediately loses the karmic bug, box, and keys. technically this probably doesn't count as fucking up a whole plan unto itself and is just a set back because he does get the bug back but also, lol. lmao.
Jiao Liqiao. she has clearly been working with the wansheng clan (including, secretly, shan gudao) for about/over a decade? thundering fire bombs, basically took over the jinyuan alliance, etc, but also, she does seem to have just been using them (to get her man) as much as they were using her (to clear remove any possible threats to their power/throne), so... good for her I guess. she decides to go all in on being the emperor at basically the last second, and honestly, she doesn't do too bad! she could fully nuke the karmic bug advantage, and after that it's a power struggle between her and shan gudao, which, I'd back her and her legion of jianghu boytoys over him. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ she does die because her malewife ambitions were set too high, though. notable for how her plan coathangers herself with the absolute clownshoes behavior.
Shan gudao, again (again). actually gets sort of on the throne! for like. a second. before getting his ass kicked, his henchmen killed/defeated, and also finding out that whoops wrong orphan. hilarious to me that he is the nanyin aligned person who actually succeeds at getting a nanyin person on the throne for a hot second, except for how he's not....actually of a nanyin bloodline at all. net zero success.
like, once is happenstance, twice is bad luck, nine+ times over a century is very much hitting maybe you should just pick a new, more realistic goal territory.
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intheshadowsbehindyou ¡ 1 year ago
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Hello! I was wondering if you could write about the Merc's with a gn! reader who loves baking?
Btw, I love your writing style! It all feels so accurate and it's helping to feed this new fixation of mine <3 <3
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I see we have some food lovers in the askbox, chat. *crackles knuckles* you ask, and daddy delivers.
Mercs with somebody who gives them food
Scout:
- Depends on your current location. The gravel wars isn’t short of moving from place to place. If it’s somewhere like japan he’ll go full weeb mode and eat nothing but fish related dishes. You know speed racer? In the fucked up TF2 universe there’s a speed racer themed restaurant. Take him there. (On second thought maybe don’t go eating with him in Japan he might eat the Hiroshima rocks.)
- He swears he’s on a diet but it’s inconsistent as fuck. This is the same guy who canonically eats radiation we’re talking about here. You hand him some warm bread you baked and he’s ecstatic. You catch him sprinkling something on his slice. It’s grounded up like pepper. He’s like “This? This shit is fuckin’ perfect. The person who owns my gym back in boston recommended it for energy. Tastes great.” You read the label and you realize it’s grounded up uranium.
- If you make him homemade fried chicken he’ll nearly choke up. Seriously. nobody’s ever done that for him before. Giving him food in general is also his love language but chicken? He thinks you want to marry him forever and ever now.
—————————————————————
Soldier:
- You don’t really know what soldier likes.. He doesn’t make anything very evident and tries his hardest to make his one defining trait being that he’s a veteran. But you know that’s not true. You decide to make him some sandwiches and he’s confused. “Huh.. Well that’s some weird tasting MREs. Not complaining. It’s actually really good. Shame that civilians can’t get the same luxury right now.” He says. You have no idea how to explain that WW2 is virtually nonexistent anymore.
- Finally you settle with something. Honey with warm bread. Instead of eating slices like a normal person he just swallows the entire loaf like a snake. You are worried for this man’s intestines. He seems to be fine however.
- Gives you either a romantic or platonic kiss on the head. Your pick. His breath smells sugary and sweet and you nuzzle your head against his collarbone in response. This is his way of showing he appreciated the food.
———————————————————————
Demoman:
- I sure hope you’re capable of producing stew because that’s all he eats when he isn’t unhealthily suppressing his own hunger with scrumpy.
- You get him to eat a variety of food somehow. Although he’s picky, he isn’t impossible either. Due to growing up in an orphanage he was no stranger to having to cook for himself at times when the caretakers just really didn’t care. You exchange recipes. For some reason he has an entire Scottish cookbook under his bed. As well as a book on “Leonerdo Da Fuq’s Basic Guide To blowing Sentries Up. And making it look like an accident.”
- He’s very thankful. Demoman’s not much of a foodie. He eats to live rather than lives to eat. But your snacks hit different. They’re made with your love. That’s why they’re so much better than what he typically eats.
—————————————————————-
Engineer:
- WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU THATS HIS JOB. HE’S THE OVERBEARING GRANDMOTHER THAT WONT STOP SHOVING FOOD INTO HER KIDS MOUTH!!! NOT YOU!!!
- He eats everything you give him. Even if it doesn’t particularly tickle his fancy. His belly is big and swollen afterwards and you want to squish him so bad. That’s a pillow waiting to be laid on. He then tells you fond memories of thanksgiving and when his mother would cook his family an entire turkey dinner.
- He responds twofold by making you something as well. You wake up one day to find an entire breakfast platter laid on your end table. There’s a little sticky note there and although it doesn’t have a name on it — the dash alongside the expertly drawn symbol of his class is evident enough. Only somebody with expertise in blueprints would draw something like that. Hint hint.
——————————————————————
Heavy:
- Heavy isn’t a dumbass by any means but this is a certified Heavy L situation. He thinks you’re trying to offend him at first because people call him fat on a regular basis. Medic explains from afar that actually it’s a gesture meant to express hospitality, and upon realizing you were just being nice he looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his neck.
- Lets you spoon feed him your food. He likes it for some reason. He likes any kind of meat, and protein. He eats that shit everyday. Not just that but dark chocolate and other bitter tasting foods as well. Despite his massive size he doesn’t actually eat large portions at a time.
- He knows how to make mostly deserts. Takes on a sort of mentor role and tries to teach you how to bake cakes and stuff like that. You’ve never seen Heavy in such a domesticated setting. Watching him go about cooking without breaking somebody’s skull in for once was actually kind of surreal.
————————————————————————-
Pyro:
- Cook / get them nothing but sweets. They won’t eat anything else. You begin to wonder if Pyro is even remotely human because of how much unhealthy food they eat. (But then again you’ve seen soldier survive losing both his arms and Medic sowing them back on. It’s probably fine.)
- They are unbelievably excited to see you walk into the room with plates and/or boxes. You’ve unintentionally pavloved them into associating it with your food. They clap and make grabby hands. Wanting to see what sweets you’ve brought them.
- It’s actually quite odd.. You see them retreat into their quarters to eat their food. It’s clear they’ve eaten it because they always take the plates back but you’re never allowed to see them eat directly. They don’t attend dinner with the other mercs or even breakfast.
- DO NOT LET THEM NEAR THE FUCKING OVEN. DO NOT LET THEM COOK. THE ADMINISTRATOR MADE IT AGAINST THE RULES TO LET PYRO NEAR THE STOVE.
————————————————————————-
Sniper:
- “Bloody hell.. This for me?” His voice hiked up a little. A little shocked that somebody would even consider making or buying him food in the first place, Only his parents ever did that for him. He takes it hesitantly but his expression doesn’t seem negative. Just incredibly dumbfounded. You had got him some donuts from a market in tuefort. You figured it would go well with his coffee.
- Immediately starts eating them. Sniper is both a meats sort of guy and a sweets sort of guy. Looks from side to side to make sure nobody saw him take your offer. That would be a embarrassing. He grabs the entire box and retreats into his camper van like a rat.
- He then slowly opens the door.. “Oh, right. Bugger. This is typically the moment I comfortably invite you in.” He cringes at the thought. Leaving the door open for you, and moving aside to let you in. He begins telling you the basics about how to hunt your food. For some reason it’s all incredibly dangerous aussie animals though. Some of the stuff doesn’t sound edible but he’s apparently eaten. He’s especially passionate about how to properly cook crocodiles.
———————————————————————-
Medic:
- Pretentiously nitpicks the fact you brought him cupcakes. Citing his knowledge about how too much sugar consumption can kill you… whilst simultaneously eating the cupcakes.
- “Even worse yet —- they ruin your dental health. Hoo, i’d hate to be on the receiving end of a tooth filling by an angry dentist.” He says, shoving more of your sweets into his face. You wonder if he’s even self aware of what he’s doing to be honest. “Although I do envy their sadism! It’s much worse than mine, actually — Das schmeckt gut.” He adds.
- He frowns. You knew Medic had loved cupcakes in particular so you were confused at first. Well it wasn’t that. In fact it was something more stupid. “Well then again the consumption of sugar is important for our bodies, I must add. With the wrong diet we could die from low blood sugar. I wonder if it is possible to extract all the sugar from a human body using a sort of giant homebrewed syringe. It is in theory possible for me to—“ The man is at his chalkboard writing down mathematical equations again.
———————————————————————-
Spy:
- When you give him food for the first time he’s unbelievably pouty. Couldn’t you have asked him his tastes first? He hesitantly eats what you give him anyway. As long as it isn’t fried, fast food, candy or anything that wasn’t expensive as fuck.
- Incredibly good table manners. Incredibly good at cooking his native cuisine. For some reason he’s intent on insisting that french food is superior than any other food. When you’re eating with him he straightens your posture, politely puts your napkin in your lap and schools you on the fact you’re not using your salad fork or whatever. There’s way too much pointless shit on his table. Who the fuck created all these weirdly specific rules?
- Eventually he’s so tired from trying to teach you he loses his temper and crosses his arms like a discontent toddler while you eat nonchalantly. “What?” You say. Using the wrong fork again. He’s still staring at you. “What?!” You repeat yourself. “I love you, Spy.” You say. Shoving more food into your mouth. He keeps glaring at you.
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lainalit ¡ 4 months ago
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"We were born sick." You heard them say it
A acotar canon complied fanfic about a common hewn city family.
I posted a one shot that I originally did for my headcanon of a darkbringer going home to his family when he was being denied purchasing toys and sweats from velaris shopowners, just like Rhysand ordered them to do.
After that, the OC's that I created for it wouldn't leave my mind, so I plan to write one shots (probably non-linear) for them.
You find both first parts on ao3 and the second chapter under the cut their his daughter gets her treats.
The small faelights adorned the walls and tables, enveloping the Maher family's living room in a warm, dim glow. The rich aroma of butter and sugar wafted through the air, enhancing the cozy atmosphere.
Seated in a rocking chair by the hearth, Enid threaded a needle through the soft, dyed pink fabric of an almost-finished teddy bear for her daughter, her hands moving with quick steady precision. As she worked, she hummed a gentle tune from an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her—a lullaby she now sings to her daughter whenever nightmares stirred her little one from sleep.
Her husband, Cadell, and their daughter Trina were visiting Nain Ada—the female who took Cadell in after his mother passed away—allowing Enid to complete Trina's gift without needing to worry of looking after her and the fear of Trina discovering the presents too soon.
Just one of the many things Enid loves about her husband; he never takes her homemaking tasks for granted and devotes every moment of his day to their daughter after returning from his Darkbringer duties.
She sighed softly, redirecting her attention to the small pink teddy bear as she completed the final stitch on its back. She examined the meticulous work she had devoted nearly a week to while Trina was at school.
Sometimes, she could still hear her great-grandmother’s voice admonishing her that the stitching wasn’t perfect and that she would need to start all over again since only a flawless stitch could make a flawless wife. What nonsense.
She placed the teddy gently on the rocking chair and walked over to the kitchen island, where the rounded butterscotch candies cooled off.
Taking one, she blew on it and carefully bit off a small piece. As she savored the sweet flavor, she closed her eyes, recalling how her Cousin Kenna, from whom she had obtained the recipe, would make these treats for her birthday when she was young—one of the few cherished memories.
Enid carefully packed the butterscotch’s and the teddy into the bag that Cadell had brought back from his visit to Velaris, a bag that had returned empty after he was denied the very same things she had worked so hard to create now.
As she closed the bag, she struggled to quell her frustration over the situation and the injustice of it all.
She’s fed up with Keir and his elitist friends dictating what the impoverished Fae can and cannot do within the city walls. She seethes at the way the High Lord treats every citizen of her home like a criminal, all while his own hands remain far from innocent.
 But what infuriates her the most is Morrigan, whom the common folk of Hewn City derisively called the 'Red Traitor.' Enid resents how Morrigan abandoned the females, the younglings, and all the vulnerable souls once she secured her own freedom and dreams, never pausing to consider those still trapped within the dark mountain walls yearning for the same.
But she pushed those thoughts aside as she entered her daughter’s room and placed the bag of gifts on the bed. She chose to focus on her blessings rather than what she lacked.
________________
Enid stood in the warm glow of the kitchen, the faint scent of vanilla and butter still lingering in the air as she wiped the dark countertop clean.
The rhythmic sound of her cloth against the surface was soothing, a welcome reprieve in the otherwise peaceful afternoon. Just as she finished, she heard the unmistakable thud of heavy boots on their front door, stirring a flutter of excitement in her chest.
The door creaked open, and there was Cadell, his broad silhouette framed against the fading light, with Trina nestled in his arms, her small form draped against him like a sleeping flower sprite from one of her picture books.
“Wake up, princess! We are home,” Cadell announced with a playful lilt, gently jostling her.
 Trina stirred, a sleepy grumble escaping her lips as she buried her face deeper into her father’s neck, unwilling to wake fully just yet.
With quick strides, Enid closed the distance, her heart warm at the sight of her husband and daughter. Cadell leans down, his lips find his wife's forehead in the customary kiss he lovingly bestows upon her each time he comes home.
“Did you have a good time by Nain Ada?” Enid asked, her smile teasing as she tipped her head back to meet his gaze, her hazel eyes sparkling with curiosity.
Cadell chuckled, his dark brown eyes shimmering with contentment.
"If by that you mean her feeding us until we’re ready to burst and her grumpy self finding fault with everything and everyone, then yes,“ he replied, a note of affection lacing his words as he adjusted his hold on their daughter.
Enid quirked a brow, a smile tugging at her lips. “And you, my sweetling?”
Her daughter, still half-asleep, merely nodded her head against her father's shoulder, an adorable little gesture that made Enid’s heart swell.
“Well, it seems like our princess wants to sleep instead of meeting Lucy’s new friend?” she said, glancing from her husband to her daughter.
Trina lifted her head slightly, her big hazelnut eyes blinking up at her mother with a hint of curiosity.
“New friend?” she murmured, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her words.
"Yes, they arrived just before you and went directly to your room," Enid replied, gently tucking a stray of Trina’s dark hair behind her ear, revealing her small features that already resemble her husband , though he would insist she looked much more like her.
With a sudden burst of energy, Trina wiggled in her father’s arms, determination flashing in her sleepy eyes.
“Daddy, let me down!” she demanded, her voice tinged with the audacity of a youngling sure of her own authority.
Cadell chuckled lightly, his deep laughter resonating in their living room.
“Okay, okay, but what do we say first?” he asked, lowering her slightly, giving her the room to wiggle free.
Trina beamed up at him before leaning in, planting a big, warm kiss on his cheek.
“Pretty please!” she chimed.
With a laugh, he set her down entirely, watching as she dashed off towards her room, her tiny feet pattering against the stone floor in a flurry of excitement.
Just as Enid was about to head towards Trina’s room, Cadell caught her wrist with a firm yet tender grasp, turning her gently but decisively to face him.
“Wha—” she began, before she could fully voice her question, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a long, passionate kiss that seemed to stop time itself.
When he finally pulled away, his dark eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken.
“Did I tell you how incredible you are?” he breathed, his voice low and filled with admiration.
She took a moment to catch her breath, her heart racing from both the unexpected kiss and the weight of his words.
“No, that’s the first time you’ve ever told me that,” she teased, a playful glint in her eyes as she swatted his shoulder lightly.
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against her pointy ear as he whispered, “Well, if that’s the case, it seems I need to show my wife tonight just how incredible she is.”
A shiver of excitement and anticipation danced down her spine at his words, a heady mix of emotions blooming within her. But before she could form a reply, a sharp scream pierced the air from her daughter’s room, shattering the intimate moment.
In an instant, her husband’s demeanor shifted from tender to alert; he released her and sprinted the few meters to their daughter’s room, his concern palpable. She was right behind him, her heart still pounding—not just from the kiss, but from the sudden urgency that had replaced their tender exchange.
_______________
In Trina’s room, the atmosphere was electric with joy.
Enid stepped inside to find her daughter tightly clutching the pink teddy, bouncing up and down in sheer delight. The moment stirred something deep within her, an echo of uncontained happiness.
“By the Mother, don’t scare your old father like that, Trina!” Cadell exclaimed, his hand resting dramatically on his heart as if he were about to swoon.
Enid couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his remarks. Both in their seventies, they were seen as practically youthful by high fae standards, especially when compared to Ada, who was over seven hundred years old.
Trina stopped her bouncy dance and held the pink teddy high above her head.
 “I’m sorry, Daddy! But look at Lucy’s and Mr. Starfall’s new best friend!” She stretched her tiny arms up toward him, enthusiasm radiating from her face.
Cadell knelt down to her level, his gaze softening with love as he looked at the stuffed animal she clutched in her tiny hands.
"I see, princess. They look quite lovely," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
Without warning, Trina launched herself into his arms, wrapping her limbs around him with all her might.
"Thank you, Daddy!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pure, unfiltered joy.
Cadell chuckled, a deep, warm sound that filled the room, hugging her back with equal fervor before loosening his embrace just enough to look into her bright, eager eyes.
 "You’re welcome, sweetheart, but I didn’t do anything. It was all your mama’s work."
Enid, standing nearby, suppressed a smile, knowing full well that her husband had played his part as well. He had helped with the cutting and dyeing of the fabric, though she chose not to mention it now.
She’d will remind him later by mischievously depriving him of his favorite indulgence in bed, so that he wouldn’t always be so self-effacing.
Trina glanced over at her, breaking free from her father's embrace, and before she could topple into her mother’s legs, Enid bent down to catch her, pulling her into a long, heartfelt hug.
"Thank you, Mommy! I love you so much," Trina said with a soft voice, her small arms squeezing with all the strength she could muster.
"I love you too, my sweetling," Enid murmured, feeling the beginning of unshed tears prickling at her eyes.
As they slowly parted, Enid asked gently, "So, what’s the name of your new friend?"
Trina looked thoughtfully from her mother to her father, then down at the plushie in her hands.
"I think…I’ll name him Thessie." A big smile spread across her face.
"Why that, sweetheart?" Cadell asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
Trina gazed down at Thessie, cradling it in her small hands.
“His pink reminds me of the pictures from the Dawn Court in my schoolbooks, and the High Lord is Thesan, so Thessie!”
There was a brief silence as they all absorbed the weight of her words. Each of them understood, in their own way, that they would likely never see the breathtaking views of the Dawn Court at sunset.
Breaking the silence, Enid chimed in with a soft, nurturing voice, "What a lovely name, sweetie. And since Lord Thesan wields healing powers, your Thessie will undoubtedly possess some of that magic as well."
Her daughter's warm eyes widened, a spark of wonder igniting within them. "Do you really think so?"
Enid smiled brightly as she answered, “Of course! Just like Mr. Starfall has star powers, or Lucy has fire powers.”
Trina hugged Thessie tightly and gave the bear a kiss on its head. With an ecstatic look, she made her way over to her dressing drawer, where Mr. Starfall and Lucy awaited the arrival of their new friend.
As the moment unfolded, Cadell grasped Enid’s hand, every bit of warmth radiating from his calloused grip. His gaze was drifting to his daughter's bed, where the candy bag poked out from beneath the larger bag.
“Princess, look what I’ve found!” he said, retrieving the sweets and waving them teasingly.
"Daddy, my caramel bonbons!" Trina squealed, darting across the small room in an eager attempt of trying to seize the candies out of her father’s hand.
"Wait a minute, the oldest gets to go first!" Cadell declared, holding the bag just out of reach, a playful glint in his eye.
"That's not true, Daddy! The youngest gets to go first!" Trina exclaimed, hopping up and down on her feet, eager to get her hands on the sweat treats.
With a mischievous smile, Cadell raised an eyebrow at her.
 "If that’s so, why doesn’t the youngest try to catch her old father?" And with that, he released his wife's hand and dashed out of the room, laughter bubbling from his lips.
"Daddy, you cheated!" Trina yelled, her laughter ringing out as she chased after him, her little legs moving as fast as they could.
Standing in the doorway, Enid listens to the joyful peals of laughter reverberating around their Alcove, wrapping every corner in a cocoon of blissful love. A peaceful smile graced her lips.
Despite not having the opulent wealth of gems and gold that Prythian aristocrats possess, she felt immeasurably wealthy in that moment, as she watched, her greatest treasure right in front of her, scuttling through their home in a whirlwind of laughter.
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nanqmies ¡ 1 year ago
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Cotton tail | Wolf!Kaeya
tw: dubcon, knotting, overstim, biting, slut shaming, manipulation sorta ??, hair pulling, praise, degradation, creampie, breeding, manhandling, semi public sex, anal, nipple play, gn amab!reader, reader is very naive, also you’re a bunny hybrid, red riding hood au, I think that’s all?
wc: 2.8k
a/n: i’m veryy happy i finished this so quickly!! this wasn’t what it was supposed to be but i kept writin n thinking abt how it would be great as kaeya cause hes such a tease ^^ again i will try to clean up how everythin looks!! please enjoy my work. ଘ꒰⑅ ´ ˘ ` ⑅ ꒱♡
nsfw under the cut~
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"Don't go near any wolves!" Your mother reminds you, with worry on her voice. Fixing your old red hood, your floppy bunny ears sticking out. "I packed Granny some cookies, berry jam, and a water just in case." She ruffles your hair once more, then gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.
You grab the basket of goodies from her hand, tucking everything underneath a plaid cloth. "Momma.. I'm not a baby anymore! I can take care of myself!" You sigh, hugging her tightly "Go down the left path! And avoid any-" you cut her off quickly,"Wolves! I know Momma! Love you!" Shutting the wooden door quickly behind you and running towards the dirt path leading to the old woods.
You were ecstatic to go out, you were old enough to go out on your own now but your Mother was so overprotective. Wolves were predators and dangerous to rabbits, your father sadly losing his life to a rabid wolf. Since then your Mother has been on edge ever since, never letting you go out on your own as she was terrified the same would happen to you. But finally she let her worries aside to let you bring your ill grandmother some sweets to help her recover..
Your fluffy little tail and ears bounced as you walked along the path, crunching dried leaves under your feet. The sun was still up, but you wondered how long it’d be until it started to get dark, to be completely honest you weren’t necessarily listening to what your mother was saying, her words and warnings falling of deaf ears. You were too excited to go out to listen to what she was saying.. She did say to avoid wolves and bring the basket to Grandmas house.. What path did she say to take?? I guess I’ll find out when I get there… Were constant reoccurring thoughts in your head.
You were mindlessly walking through the trees at this point, waiting for the singular path to separate to two.
You stop to think, “Which way did she say to go again..?” The right looks a little familiar maybe, you trust your gut and swallow, quickly walking faster through trees and bushes. A slight shiver runs down your spine, was someone following you? You feel like eyes are on you, watching your every slight move. You’ve been walking for almost 30 minutes now, your feet and legs feel sore every step you take. You tread on for a while until, a grassy area in the distance catches your eye. Thank god..!
It’s all quiet here, the sun not too bright in your eyes. Sitting down, you plop down on the grass, setting the braided basket down on your lap. Digging into the basket and eating a cookie, sighing as you chew on the yummy treat. You needed this, surely Granny wouldn’t notice a few cookies gone? And maybe she wouldn’t notice half of the water gone as well.. She has been going up in age and you are her lovely grandchild.. You eat another cookie washing it down with water, taking the last bite your ears stand up and start twitching like crazy, leaning forward checking for sounds. Trying to identify where it’s coming from while looking around. Hearing sticks breaking and leaves crunching from the bushes.
"My, my.. Aren't you a cute bunny.." a deep voice rumbles from behind causing you to jump. You whimper, trying to crawl away. "No no no, stay still.. Are you lost?" The deep voice asks, coming closer, trying to comfort you.
"W-What a deep voice you have!" you blurt out recklessly
“The better to greet you with, my dear.” the voice responds.
Coming out the dark forest, its a tall man with scruffy ears atop his head, his rough tail swishing behind him showing his clear excitement. His bright colored eyes watch you curiously, a playful smile pulling at his lips, revealing sharp teeth. Cupping your face, his long nails poke into your soft cheeks. You flinch slightly at the touch, whimpering even louder than before. "You're trembling like a leaf.. Whats your name pretty?" Tilting your head up, you mumble your name quietly, he grins more and introduces himself as Kaeya. His big hands lower down your trembling figure, rubbing your thigh comfortably.
"So, what brings a cute thing like you here?" he whispers, You flush at how close he is. "My Grandma is sick.. I came here to bring her sweets." replying shakily, humming in response. Kaeya’s large hands explore your clothed body.
"And what big hands you have!" you stare down at the hands rubbing gentle circles into your thighs
“The better to embrace you with, my dear.” He squeezes your thigh, wiping the stray cookie crumbs from your soft lips.
“I don’t think your sweet grandmother would appreciate you eating her food..” He rubs your floppy ears between his fingers, making you squeak at the unexpected touch. “Mr. Wolf! Don't do that!" whining at the touch, chuckling at the nickname, he questions further "Why not? Does it feel weird..?” His grin is unsettling on his face, like he’s hiding something behind that friendly smile.
“I shouldn’t talk to wolves…” trying to stand up but he quickly shoves you back down into the grass, you can finally get a good look at his face. Long hair tied into a braid, a scar near his eye covered by a cloth eyepatch.. His one visible eye a bright periwinkle blue, with long dark eyelashes. You can’t help but comment on it.
"Goodness, what big eyes you have!"
“The better to see you with, my dear..” responds the wolf, holding both your small wrists together and pinning them to the ground.
Kaeya’s free hand roams your body, pulling and yanking at your clothes. His sharp nails tracing against your skin.
“Mr. Wolf… Please it feels weird..” You struggle against his heavy body on yours as he pins you down under him with no effort. “Tell me, does it tingle here..?” He pokes your stomach, “No!” , he tries not to laugh at your naivety but continues poking different places on your body until his hand hovers over your crotch. Kaeya reaches down cupping your clothed privates, you squeal loudly attempting to scramble back, "Don't touch there!" yelping louder than before. He chuckles, pressing his body against yours. Frantically trying to squirm under his grasp, struggling to break free.
"Let me go!" pushing against him and kicking your legs. Your useless struggles only seem to turn him on more. “Let you go?” He pouts, “Why would I do that..?” he gropes over your crotch, “Your body seems to be saying otherwise..” ripping a hole your thin bloomer shorts, he flips you over on your stomach, squeezing the squishy globes of your ass, your bunny tail twitching in response. Kaeya unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants just enough to let his throbbing cock spring free, salty pre already dripping at the tip. It’s huge..! Veiny and girthy whilst the tip burns an angry red. Your eyes immediately widen in worry, "No- no! It's too big!" yelling at him, "It won't fit!" you keep squirming and writhing under him again.
"Don't worry, Cotton tail I'll make it fit in your precious little body." he whispers, a glob of spit landing on your rim, rubbing it in with his tongue. You jolt at the newfound feeling, your legs shaking in anticipation. Kaeya’s tip slowly pushes in, stretching your rim painfully, you never expected someone as big as him to be your first. "Stop please stop!" you moans, back arching off the ground, he shakes his head more. Kaeya grins, pushing in his large cock deep inside you. You cum immediately after he bottoms out in you. Your breathing becoming heavier, sweat dripping off your forehead. “I haven't even moved and you already came?” Voice full of mockery? “Such an eager slut." he coos, moving in and out of you quickly. Crying out from every overwhelming movement. Drool runs down your chin,
"M- Mr. Wolf! Mmf Aahn!" gasping for air while clutching at the grass. Your hips rutting against Kaeya’s fat shaft, feet thumping rapidly against the ground. "Oh sweetheart, you really are tight." he praises you with a groan, pushing in and out as deep as possible, his cock reaching further trying to abuse the sweet spot in you. A thick ring of cream building around the base of Kaeya’s dick, pulling your hair roughly to bring you up, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck. Pearly whites tinted red with blood.
“N-Ngh..! Mr. Wolf..! T-Teeth too sharpp!~” biting your lips at the painful pleasure emerging with each bite he gracefully gives you.
“Needa fuck~ mark you as m-mine, my dear..” he sinks his teeth deeper into your collarbone, hearing you squeal in response.
You’re bouncing on his cock on your own at this point, chasing his knot and thick pungent cum to stain your insides white. Your tongue hangs out your mouth, tears wetting your pretty lashes. Your mind only thinking about breeding, breeding you full of his fertile seed, over and over until it spills out the side. You’re almost sobbing, begging Kaeya to fill you with his pups. Your whole body trembling from the intense pleasure, nails filled with dirt from clutching the grass so tightly.
"Is all you ngh stupid bunnies think about is getting breeded?" he laughs deeply, He’s losing his cool at how warm and good your insides are at stroking his cock. "Mr W-wolf...! Mnnh! Pleass b-breed..!" you beg him through laboured breathing "Shh.. No more talking~ Gonna fill you up nicely. I'll cum in you every day if I have to." he spits out his words between pants. Flipping you over to your back and forcing your thighs up as far as he could, hitting even deeper than before.
"Nnnnnn... Aahn... Hnnngh!!" You squirmed beneath him unable to stop you from cumming again. He kisses him hungrily, pulling your shirt up starting to toy with your sensitive nipples. Pinching and rolling the swollen buds around his rough fingertips, relieving them of the pain with his mouth, sucking them gently and running his tongue over them repeatedly. You feel like you’re cumming again when he bites them harshly, your hips jerking up meeting your release once again.
“You're gonna be mine." he purrs, repeateding the words ‘Mine’ over and over again, chasing his orgasm with a few thrusts. "Aahh Hnng!~ Mr. Wolf Mmm.." moaning as Kaeya fills you up completely, leaving your tummy bloated full. You groan and whimper, feeling as though you would explode. Tears stream down your cheeks. "Too full.." He whispers feeling Kaeya’s knot rush with blood locking you together, pushing his not deep in you. Humping his knot against your soft ass, wanting to overstimulate his cock to cum more. “S-Stopp can’t take anymore..~ you hiss weakly, turning over and burying your cheeks in grass when he ignores your pleas and continues to rut, his cum continuously spurting thick loads in you, making sure it takes before his knot goes down.
Your body has given out completely, covered in bites and bruises, dried blood all over your neck. All your energy gone, you’re so sleepy… Your legs much to sore to attempt walking, shaking like jelly. You’re a drooling mess, grass stained clothes and hair frizzy. Your shorts ripped apart, victim to Kaeya’s rut and sharp claws. Your breathing has leveled out now, waiting for his knot to go down so he can finally move. Kaeya pulls whats left of your shorts back up your hips pulling out of you in the process. Thick cum dribbles out but he kindly pushes it back in with his fingers. Carrying your limp body in his strong arms back to your small cottage.
"Noo... needa go to Grandmaas..." you complain weakly, clinging on to his shirt. "I'll drop off the basket to your Grandmas”he reassures you, petting your soft twitchy ears. After a while of walking in the darkening sunset, you reach your home, Kaeya picks the window lock to your room placing you on your soft comfy bed.
"Mr Wolf.. When will i see you again.." you ask drowsily, He pets his fluffy hair softly. "Whenever you want my pet, you know where to go." He kisses you again before leaving out your window, you fall asleep quickly. "Be safe little bunny.. You're helpless without me." He grins disappearing into the woods.
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@nanqmies Š 2023
please do not translate, steal or repost my work.
reblogs and feedback appreciated!
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theprismyyy ¡ 3 months ago
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Brasil-sil-sil-sil
Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader
Tw: I tried to translate as best as possible some Brazilian terms and things that in reality I think would not really have a translation, but that I still tried to make it understandable for everyone.
(English is not my first language)
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Natalie who loves you very, very much and is obsessed with your culture, like she thinks it's so amazing and loves hearing you talk about it <3
Natalie has never been interested in really learning other languages, I mean I think she would know a little bit of Italian but mostly the swear words, but Portuguese? She is really interested in it, mostly the swear words (of course), but she really thinks it beautiful so much when you speak it and she always says that you sound like you are "singing".
Natty would try to make Brazilian food when she saw you sad and missing Brazil. She's not really a great cook but what counts is the intention and hers were definitely the best.
Her first real trip abroad would probably be with you and obviously with the destination being Brazil :))) thinking about your family who travels during Christmas and New Year's time to celebrate with their relatives in your country and you beg your parents to take Natty along :3
Natty who is literally like this: 😲 and you're still just at the airport lol
Leaving the airport and taking an Uber to her grandparents' house and she spends the whole way glued to the window like a puppy, looking and pointing at everything she sees and thinks is cool.
Thinking about living near the Center/Copacabana and she can see Christ the Redeemer from inside the car and she's all bouncy like:
"I want to go there, can we go there? Please, come on, come on, please it looks so cool!!"
Natty really likes Brazilian architecture and the aesthetics of more traditional houses because it is so cozy and has a warm, comfortable vibe.
Natty who loves her family because well...people can say whatever they want about Brazil and Brazilians, but the fact that we are an extremely warm people is kind of undeniable.
You would probably serve as a translator to mediate conversations between her and her family members since few of them actually speak English, yet, despite the language difference I can easily imagine her having conversations with your grandmother without your help where neither of them can really understand what the other is saying, but somehow they understand each other (??) they are not speaking the same language or anything but you just catch them talking and agreeing and getting along really well while Natalia helps her peel potatoes in the kitchen.
Natalie would be 100% a fan of MPB, samba and funk (especially old funk).
I can really see her loving Rita Lee, Alcione, Claudinho e Bochecha, Mc Marcinho (and secretly Mc Carol and yes, I think she would probably know what Carol's songs are about because she asked, she would also find the lyrics the height of humor).
Natalie who totally loves and worships Brazilian bikinis and would look like a cartoon character, eyes popping out into big hearts and tongue drooling 😭😭 she just loves you so much and thinks you look so hot in one.
She loves how Brazilian barbecue is so different from American barbecue and I honestly think she would like Brazilian barbecue better.
Her love garlic bread.
She would love to go to museums and tourist spots and would want to take lots of pictures with you and she is not really a fan of taking pictures but she just wants to have memories of good times with the girl she loves so much :(( she is so sweet.
I would love to take out at night to enjoy Pedra do Sal and I know she would love.
Trying to teach her to samba but she is a bit clumsy, however she learned to shake it funk like a good Brazilian very quickly and you are in shock, because what the hell did they do to your sweet girl 😭😭😭 your cousins taught her and she thought it was super fun, she shows it to you like she just won an award, full of pride for having learned and it's cutie.
Imagine going to the beach with her and having to drench her from head to toe in sunscreen because she's so white and otherwise she'd be as red as a shrimp 🤏 so baby, I can't stop thinking about her with her cheeks and the tip of her nose covered in sunscreen because her face is the place that burns most easily.
Drinking caipirinha on the beach and eating corn with butter or fried fish with potatoes <33333
Playing ball with random people on the beach because a game between two or three people always ends up attracting strangers who end up joining in the game :)))
She would 100% buy a bracelet, earring or ring from some artisan seller on the beach.
Getting bikini tans on the beach with her and bleaching your hair on the roof of your house with her and your cousins ♡♡♡ imagene her sitting on the roof with your hair wrapped in aluminum foil and a towel over your shoulders with your cousins while you wait for it to be time to wash the product.
Again talking about the fact that Natalie likes swear words because she would really love them and would love the variety of swear words and expressions that Brazilians use to show anger or indignation because there are SO MANY options and they seem so much funnier.
100% buy a blouse from Brazil or if you have one she just takes yours >—<
Imagine celebrating New Year's Eve with her on the sands of Copacabana and kissing her when the countdown ends, she would melt like butter in your arms and love the fireworks
Now let's talk about the religious part:
A little discretion and observation: Umbanda is an eminently spiritualist and spiritualizing religion. Therefore, the faith professed by its practitioners, most of whom are mediums, requires a strong belief in God and in the existence of the spiritual world that interacts with the material plane all the time. For those who are interested, I recommend that they research and study more about it, as it is a very beautiful and interesting religion; here I will not go into much depth on the subject because I am not a practitioner and I do not see myself having a great place to speak and understand it, despite finding it incredible.
She would be like a curious puppy honestly, asking questions all the time and being all curious about everything.
She would try to record the names of the OxirĂĄs and Pombas Gira because she thinks they sound good and are cool to pronounce.
She would find the clothes and leashes so cute and I can see her asking if she can wear a leash too <3
If she went to a Terreiro during a party for one Oxirá she would literally look like this: 😲😲 like so amazed by everything.
She would love to interact with the entities.
If she had the opportunity to be in contact with the ErĂŞs at some point, I can really imagine her sitting on the floor playing with them and being so sweet <33 and they would really like her.
She would like to try to learn how to sing a point and try to understand the "difficult words" and she wants to learn so much because she knows that your religion is so important to you and if it is important to you, then it is important to her too.
I would be extremely angry if someone tried to offend your religion in any way.
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@pinkbunny888 @jellyb3annn
© 2024 theprismyyy — por favor, não copie, traduza ou republique nenhum trabalho meu sem minha permissão.
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moorishflower ¡ 2 years ago
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Re: Your Addams Family Post, I now have the mental image of Gomez pretty much adopting Hob as another brother/cousin/what have you. "Children! Met your new Uncle!"
It starts with the auction.
Hob doesn't think of himself as a collector, but he's also self-aware enough that his doing so is more of a defense mechanism than anything else. Because he does. He collects. He can't help himself -- so much of his life can only be traced backwards through the shapes he's left behind, his self, of a necessity, always needing to vanish into the background. He follows his own history through letters to Dear Robert Gadlyn, portraits painted with one of his hats in the background, an authentic Victorian jacket supposedly worn by Wilde himself, and which Hob vividly remembers shucking from Oscar's shoulders, leaving it to puddle forgotten on the floor while they'd kissed in sweet silence on the settee.
So when he gets an email from his friend Kev at Hansons, a "check this book out mate" sort of deal with an eyes emoji appended to it, Hob is already intrigued. Kev is good at finding him the more esoteric things for his not-collection, and hasn't steered him wrong before, and he's not disappointed when he opens the link to find a listing for a book. A book, specifically, from the 1600s. Being an Account of the Dread Pirate Sylvia, her Ancestors, her Descendants, and Her Pets, it says, though it's not the title that catches his eye so much as the provided scans of some of the pages. The handwriting is beautiful, flowing and elegant and heavy on the page, and it makes his heart ache for a time before keyboards and typewriters, when gorgeous penmanship could be counted as a virtue and not just a hobby. There are sketches of fantastical sea beasts, navigational maps, the most beautifully-rendered charcoal drawing of an orca he's ever seen, and.
And a drawing of him.
Not him as he was in 1699, when this was apparently written, but him in 1374. Him, younger, fresh-faced, just a slip of a beard still, his head tilted back, laughing. Great great etc grandmother's cousin, says a caption beneath it, in that same heavy and flowing hand. Late 1300s? Must track him down
Motherfucker, Hob thinks, and sends a few emails.
Twenty-four hours later, he's the proud owner of a fantastically well-preserved diary/travelogue/grimoire, having shelled out a significant amount of funds to even get the thing, on account of some American trying to outbid him at every turn. He's not surprised, then, when he gets an email shortly after his final bid has been locked in, from the rather posh-sounding [email protected]
The contents of the email, though. Are, to say the least, alarming.
I say my dear boy, it starts, I don't suppose we could come to an agreement as to a different price for Lady Penelope Addams' only surviving diary? If you're interested in antiques of rich and unusual history, I am certain I can provide. Only it contains one of very few references to a lost branch of our family, the Lady Penelope's great great etc grandmother and her kin, and I, being invested in genealogy, am eager to explore this hidden part of our family tree.
Absolutely not, Hob thinks, shutting his laptop with a click. Absolutely buggering bloody fuck not, he thinks, shoving a sweater into his suitcase, because it's winter, and it's Chicago, and he has no idea what sort of weather to expect. This is fucking insanity, he thinks, hands folded in his lap on the plane.
What are you doing? he asks himself, as the door to the grand gothic manor opens, and Hob, who has just trekked a portion of a mile through a swamp and had to kick an alligator to keep it from lunging at his suitcase, looks down at the man who had identified himself in emails as Gomez Addams, his. His relative. Somehow, far distant, but his.
"Robert Gadling," he says, with obvious relish, and Hob feels himself hooked by the crook of his elbow, hauled into the foyer with surprising force. "Come in! Come in! Children! Come meet your new uncle!"
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