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pedge-page · 5 months ago

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Mother Who Indulges

Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: Joel’s found other means to get his favorite snack. But he’s bad at hiding the evidence taking form on his own body.

Can be read as sequel to Mother Who Provides or on its own.

Warnings: Fat!Joel, Sub! Joel, breastfeeding, lactation kink, feedee/feeder, burping, belly worship, belly button licking, gluttony, riding, vaginial fingering, m! Masturbation, forced feeding, hands free ejaculation, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, switch dynamic at the end, Mommy and brief Daddy kink, nipple play for Joel, derogatory names such as cow or hog (towards Joel)

18+ ONLY

- - - -

Your husband was never a closet eater.

Joel was someone who enjoyed food in the company of others. Never saw it as anything more than fuel for the body, only ate when he needed it. Sure, he wouldn’t turn down a soda and a bag of chips every blue moon, but the amount of physical labor he does at his job always combats any minimal amount of snacking he does. He’s always been in perfect, lovable shape. Not shredded abs by any means, but he had just the right strength to carry you bridal style, just the right softness to cuddle up against him like a warm pillow.

Or at least, he used to.

You started to notice it after the 6 month mark of brining your baby home. As you very slowly lost a few pounds of post partum weight, Joel seemingly started to gain them—a couple dozen of them. And it was … odd.

He didn’t go out to eat—the man preferred a home cook meal and saving a few bucks where he could. There also weren’t any suspicious amounts of extra processed snacks coming into the house. And it’s not like Joel was slacking off on the construction site by any means. And yet, you noticed it when he started huffing just to get his once baggy jeans over his thickened belly. Or the way his shirts stretched a little tighter over his chest. Or the extra grunts after any regular amount of food.

The only real change was that 10-month old Sarah had started refusing pre-bagged bottle milk. The little thing ONLY wanted mama’s nana’s straight from the tap. And that meant Joel’s little breastfeeding habits had to go on pause so that your baby would actually eat.

“Picky little thing,” he grumbled with folded arms as your baby sucked away happily at your breasts, all wrapped up snugly in your arms. You could see the distain in his face—the idea that Sarah was no longer going to “share” your perky tits and even more delectable breastmilk. You were a full blown cow utter live and on demand when Sarah needed it.

You only laugh. “It’s all meant for the baby anyway. Besides, you got more than enough fill, right?”

He didn’t exactly answer you that night. Just grunted and walked away. You thought that was the end of it.

Until one night: half asleep and feeling an incredibly soreness in your breasts. It felt hot, wet, and heavy like a sack of potatoes sitting atop your chest, with a leach on the end of it. Though, you did notice they gradually felt lighter, which is strange. You always filled with milk over night. Groaning, your nipples felt twisty, sore as hell. Groggily you reach under the covers—God, why are they so hard and big? I can’t even feel it … oh, oh no. why it is hairy? And there’s growling coming from below.

Panic ensures, fear that you’re turning into some hairy wolf beast stuck in a dream, becoming misshaped and hideous and—

You wake up fully and toss the covers off, revealing your husband who’s latched on to your tit, suckling the milk like in second heaven.

You stare down at him disappointingly. Joel only just realizes he’s been caught, your nip falling from his mouth with suctioned pop, as cream pours from his lips. Caught red handed.

“Um….sorry. Was hungry.”

You wack his head hard several times, enunciating, “That-is-for-the-baby!”

“Okay okay!”

“Do you do this often when I’m asleep?”

Joel shifts up slightly, staring down at your teeth ridden mounds. He clears his throat guiltily. “…No...”

He got an earful, and you were careful to make sure he didn’t try sneaking Sarah’s breakfast off of you in the early morning again.

And that seemed like the end of it. He never brought it up or complained again.

And yet, the man was still gaining weight like nobody’s business…

Joel doesn’t like sneaking around his wife.

Realistically, he should have been losing weight, what with the extra snack of your milk each night he could enjoy now entirely off the menu. He should have not been too indulgent either, as you may have noticed his... physical difference. In fact, he was surprised it didn’t really dawn on you, where all those extra pounds on your hubby are coming from.

Joel tiptoes down to the kitchen in the late night, far after you’re lightly snoring. He makes sure not to hit the pressure sensitive creaky floorboards too. Honestly, even with the extra weight, he’s pretty good at slinky-ing around.

But his eagerness is getting the best of him. Rumbling through his body despite the slowness in his pace. He waits all day for this moment and can’t rush it now.

He cracks open the fridge, the light illuminating the dark kitchen as he briefly scans behind him again for any signs of movement. When the area is secure, he turn back. He’s so excited, goosebumps riveting his skin. Bubbles gurgling in his stomach. He’s become gluttonous, no doubt. But when you get that high, it’s hard to just quit cold turkey.

Reaching behind the beer bottles, carefully laid under a foil wrap of steak, is his most prized possession of the late night endeavors: that extra sum of frozen baggies of your breastmilk in the freezer that you gracious kept saved and that his even more gracious baby now refuses to drink. To his luck, you must have mentally completely forgotten about them. He always pulls three each night and lets them thaw in their hidden place in the refrigerator, waiting all day for this exact moment.

His obtuse stomach rumbles. Joel typically wears a buttoned sleep shirt as of late since it was the only thing that fit him to bed. But now the bottom few buttons had torn off, leaving his fat gut rounded and hanging out.

The hungry man licks his lips as he tears open the first buoyant bag of cream, his lips quivering when that first scent hits his nose. “Ah—oh fuck yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he groans, but quickly softens his voice again, remembering he can’t get caught on his indulgence.

He hastily dips a fat finger into the milk and swirls it before pushing past his lips. Joel closes his eyes, humming loudly as the taste of your fine breastmilk invade his buds, travel through his electrical signals to his brain that then releases pleasure throughout his entire body. He moans around his digit, sucking every little drop until he’s close to gnawing his finger off. Then he releases with a pop and grins, dipping two more fingers and scooping it out messily. Tilting back to drink the second helping. It drips down his palm, and he’s quick to suckle it up. None can be wasted.

He suppresses a slight burp. His large stomach screaming for more, for what he came he for. Joel tilts the baggie back over his head, leaning back and drinks the entire contents. Audible gulp after gulp, the sweet taste of milk fills his tongue and travels to his happy belly. All while his other wondering hand roams over the thick, stretched flesh, right over his belly button, jiggling the heavy underside of lard. God he feels so good like this. Getting gorged out on your milk, feeling so full and fulfilled from it.

He wags the bag once the last few drops are struggling to pour, sticking his tongue out like a dog. Heat spreads from his core down to his loins. Joel grips his hardened length over his soft pj shorts. He can’t help it. He once had prime seat to your lap, drinking straight from your tits whenever he felt like it while you jerked him off. Now reduced to palming his hard-on while lapping at your bagged milk by himself in the dark late of night.

The first bag never lasts. He makes sure to lick any remnant on his lips, squeezing his belly and groan with a pathetic whimper. He needs more. He always needs more. Thankfully there are two more bags for tonight, but fuck he could drink 300 right now and still never be full.

His shirt stretches tightly over his chest, and he decides to unbutton the top few stained buttons. His puffy chest bursts through the fabric like a damn. Now fully free, the silk material hanging forgotten and obscured by his massive figure, Joel can now take more enjoyment out of tearing into the next bag and downing it even faster than the first.

He huffs out, breathing for the first time after slurping the entire bag in one go. Rubbing faster up and down his stiff cock. Shit, he’s gonna cum. Feels so euphoric having his tip bump against the lower hang of his pooch. The fat tip meeting his even fatter tummy.

And your taste. That’s what sends him over every night. Has him cumming in his sleep shorts by the time he’s finished the third bag. Joel grunts, lifting his stomach from the underside so his other hand can palm his swollen dick. “Momma’s got the best milk,” he hums to himself, eyes closed in bliss. “Oh fuck fuck fuck, fuck yeah, I’m—I’m gonna—!”

“So!”

Joel swings around, crashing his body into the open refrigerator door, spilling his precious milk all over his tits and belly. Only to be met with you, your arms folded over your chest, spaghetti silk nightgown adorning your figure and a knowing smirk on your face.

“So this is where you’ve been getting your little extra snacks.”

He’s speechless, caught and cornered with no where to go. His mouth opens, but no words leave, like a gaping fish out of water.

“Nothing to say, Joel?” You ask with a tilt of your head.

“I—its—“ he casts down at his belly sadly. God, he looks pathetic now. Cock rock hard and stabbing through his pants, and belly flush out like a pig at a buffet. You must think he’s disgusting like this. “I…I missed your milk, baby,” he says solemnly. “Got carried away, I guess.”

Instead of the scolding he expects, you walk up to him quietly and bring his eyes to yours. Taking the bag of half drank breastmilk, he acquiesces and lets you.

To his surprise, you hold it up slightly to mouth level for him. “Looks like you’re not finished yet, honey.”

Joel stares at you, confused. But when you start palming his erection, gliding your hand up and around his belly with a swirling ticklish finger before brushing back down to his dick, he doesn’t have any braincells left. You push the bag forward and his jaw drops open once again, feeding him. With you at the control, he gulps quickly, afraid to lose any as you pour the entire contents at once. He sputters a moment when the bag is empty, too caught up on the pleasurable heat spreading in his crotch and core again. You kiss his lips, the sweet taste making you realize how difficult it must have been for him to give something so delightful up.

“Mmmm, that’s better?”

“Ah—oh—oh-yeah-so good baby-shit-“ he groans as you continue your ministrations on his member. With two hands, you hoist the underside of his enlarged middle, bouncing it up and down.

“Oh, Joel,” you tsk. “So light. So empty! We’re not done yet big boy. Not even close.”

They say there’s such a thing as too much of a good thing.

But as for Joel, stripped naked and sitting his fat ass on the couch, gorging on the funneled tube that’s been cascading a mix of whole and breastmilk into his stomach, he can confidently say that saying doesn’t apply here.

His finishes a big gulp before pulling the nozzle away, letting out a massive burp. As he grips the side of his belly, the rolls on his side multiplying before his vary eyes and skin stretching like a taught balloon, he’s never felt so full in his life.

And it feels fucking amazing.

He’s never felt so guilt-free, so perfectly enlightened and fully allowing himself to feel pleasure like to this level.

“You full yet?” You coo. You’re standing next to him by the cough, a gallon of mixed milk partially full in one hand as you check on your gluttonous husband.

He shakes his head, devious and energized. “Hit me again, baby!” He puts the nozzle back in his mouth and rests the back of his head on the couch headrest again.

You chuckle but does as he says, pouring the jug into the large funnel. He can’t wait fast enough for the milk to force its way through the tube and finally squirts onto his tongue again.

“That’s my good boy. Mommy loves filling you up with her milk. No need to hide it from me any more baby. You keep drinking and drinking until you’re full.”

With one hand splayed over his belly button, physically feeling his gut fill past its maximum, he gets a quick glance at you. The way you giddily grin, eyeing him up and down in his fattened state like a delicious piece of steak. He’s never felt so sexy in his life.

His cock feels it too. Reddened and swollen beyond belief. curved against the swell of his belly leaving a sticky trail where his precum keeps nudging along. Though, with how much he’s packing into his stomach, he’s struggling more and more to be able to fully grasp his cock and jerk it with the mean pumps he usually does. Joel was the type of masturbator to grip his base with one hand while the other beats his meat like a car engine. His arms still retained their muscled strength, but everywhere else was starting to fill in. Now, he can only get one hand down there to gently tug on it.

“Poor baby, got you so fat you can basely touch that little dick?” You tease. Though at the sheer size of him, Joel Miller’s cock is anything but ‘little.’ In fact, it’s even more imposing now, like somehow he added a few extra pounds onto his mini me as well to keep the proportions the same.

“S’not little. I can—oh fuck—still reach jus’ fine.”

Another burp billows up his throat, and he just gets the tube out of his mouth to let it out. Hell, he can barely move. The amount of effort just to sit upright again makes him bounce his whole body, the fat moving at a slower pace. Fuck, even when he can’t fully jerk his cock like he used to, the pressure of his belly on top of his tip, smushing his balls into the couch feels heavenly. Especially when he bounces and rocks back and forth slightly. Friction doing its thing and grinding his sack between his big thighs.

“Baby,” he gasps. “M so full of you.” He peers up to you with heart, drunken full pupils as he jiggles his belly. “M’ so packed tight. So much Mommy’s milk.” One finger trails up the fold under his pec, now swollen like a breast himself, before pinching and rolling his nips between his calloused fingers.

“Yeah? Let Mommy feel.” You press your palm over his chest, down to his belly that protrudes so far out. Despite being squishy earlier this night, his stomach is indeed bursting to its limit. Hardened just as yours was right before giving birth.

“Aww, oh Joel…” you squeeze your thumb into his belly button and grip the lower half before jiggling it roughly. He gasps and pushes him belly out further for you, rocking his hips best he can into the air. “You really are full baby, huh? Greedy greedy piggy.”

“Mhm,” he hums with a pout, licking his lips. “Momma’s fat fuckin’ gluttonous hog. ‘At’s me.”

You prop the funnel up on a coat hook before sliding down to your knees in front of your husband. He leans as far forward as possible to be able to see all over you between his chunky legs, parted to let you breathe against his tummy that’s right up against your face.

You gently caress his sides along the rounded shape, holding his middle in your hands. You’re so soft against him, so loving and careful. He feels no different right now than when he used to be able to lie on your lap and feed from your tit. It’s been so long since then, and he realizes now this is the feeling he’d been chasing bag after bag all this time.

Your soft cheek presses into his skin there, making him sigh relaxed.

He’s getting lost in the feeling of you on him, but you need to keep him on track.

“Keep drinking. You’ve got 2 more gallons.” You point towards the table where more mixed milk sits, and Joel settles up and begins gulping his cream again.

He moans, cock twitching against your chest as your tongue swirls around his belly button, dipping inside slightly. The hairs around his happy trail feel soft as you stroke along his naval. You can hear the little sloshing of liquid inside him each time you plant a wet kiss against his skin, making out with his gorged stomach.

The weeping end of his length bobs painfully each time you brush it. You notice he’s glancing down at you playing with him, while he continues to swallow big batches down his throat. “You want me to take care of your little problem?”

He nods pitifully.

“Not until you’re done.” You smile, standing up and gripping his belly harshly. He grunts but doesn’t release the bottled end, sucking more milk as you slap his belly repeatedly. Watching it wobble from the sheer effort and taking a moment to settle before you slap it again. Each time he whimpers but pushes it out more, asking for another.

“Greedy“—slap—“fat“—slap—“Milk hungry“—slap—“whore.”

You squeeze his plush tit, no bigger than an A cup but still, the man had nothing there before. He grunts and eyes you, dark and pleading. “Holy fuck, You’ve even got such cute cow titties Joel.” You giggle, rolling his perked nipples under you thumb while cupping the rest of the fat pooling there. “Wouldn’t that be something? Squeezing milk from your own tits?” You place your mouth on his pecs and begin suckling like the tip of his cock. Joel tosses his head back, milk spilling from his cheeks as he howls in pleasure.

“Oh fuck Momma that’s it—keep sucking my fat tits—christ. Fuck—fuckFUCK!” One hand caresses your hair as he whines, “I Love you.”

“I love you too. How are we doing?” You gesture to the funnel.

He tilts it upside down. “All out,” he says with a grimace.

“Good. On your knees.”

You grab his chubby hands and hoist him up, the two of you laughing when he fails after the first attempt.

When he does get to his feet, you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. “You look so fucking sexy, Joel Miller.”

You brush his fingers under your thigh, between your slit. “Oh—shit—so fuckin’ wet,” he whispers, rubbing your slicked walls with his meaty fingers.

Pressing your cunt against his crotch, your belly collides with his, creating the perfect friction on your clit. “I want you bigger than me when you knock me up with twins next.”

He grits his teeth and hisses against your lips. The mental image doing a whirlwind on him. You chuck two pillows to the ground for him comfort. With a big thud, he gets to one knee on the plush, then the other, arms flailing forward and hands plastered on the ground to hold his weight. His belly sags so heavily, causing him to groan. the compressed tip is damn near toughing the floorboards even as he holds cow position.

He stares up back up at you, soft big moo moo eyes getting eager when you grab the funnel and uncap another jug.

He used to marvel at how much pregnancy changed you. At how he changed you. Your body growing round with child, a child he put inside you, and then your tits swelling up with milk, all because of him.

And now he’s changing physically because of you too. His body filling with fat, engorged from your abundant lactation that you’re feeding him.

He sticks his tongue out without a single word, sucking in the nozzle and guzzling the milk funneling through again.

He downs this one fast and hard, pushing away with a big sigh. “Christ, I can’t do it. MN’gonna fuckin’ explode.”

You crouch down to see his convex stomach. It’s perfectly rounded and bulging like a moon.

He shivers when you cup the underside and glide up along, feeling how smoothed over from so much filling him. “Touch it, please touch it baby. Gonna go crazy if ya don’t.”

You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his swaying back and forth like he’s trying to get his belly to hump his dick, or maybe the other way around. He’s helpless in this position by his own doing.

“Aww, has my big boy had enough? No more Mommy’s milk?”

He shakes his head painfully. “More,” he croaks. God, his body is screaming no. he’s never felt so ready to turn into an atom bomb, and yet his intoxicated brain knows if he can’t down the last of this gallon, you’ll never give him the full on tap again.

Joel snatches the tunnel again, balancing on one hand briefly as he wraps his tongue around and drinks yet again. Gulp after gulp, the sweet liquid bulges in his esophagus before traveling down to his mighty belly. You kiss his cheek and hold the nozzle to his face, forcing it to stay. “Almost there, Joel, drink it to the last drop, and then you’ll get your reward…” you not so subtly squeeze your breasts together, and that does it for him.

He spits out the nozzle and falls head first to the ground, back arched as much as possible as his tummy smushes into the hardwood. With a howl, his hips jerk forward into his fat middle, suffocating the tip and he starts cumming untouched. “Oh-ah-ahaugghhh-yeah—yeah!” He hums, cheek pressed into the ground and drool and milk spilling from those sinful lips along with a litany of sexy, satisfied noises.

All the while you praise him with kisses and gentle curls of his hair, telling him how good he’s been for you. The funnel rolls around the floor, having been drained into Joel’s gut just a moment before he gave in.

And you’d think he was done, out for the count, needing a fat coma nap. Instead, just as you help him up to his bum, Joel snatches your waist. “Get on my lap Momma,” he slurs, licking his lips once again. You half climb, half are hoisted up to his lap, his cream coated cock still raging hard and sitting between the two of you. “Show me what those bouncing titties can do. “He slaps your breasts with little slapslapslaps. The tight grip he has on your hips forces you to begin rolling, your neglected cunt beautifully nudged against his sack with his belly and cock brushing your clit.

“Hop on Pop,” he chuckles.

Gripping one of his shoulders, you align his cock along your soaked folds and sink down on him, the two of you sighing heavily. His sticky cum coated length needed no prep to enter you, filling your womb to the brim with his Daddy sized dick. “Gonna pump you full now, little Momma. Gonna get ya bred in no time.” Joel dips his head down and latches your tit between his jaws.

You gasp and grip his hair as he begins suckling out your warm breastmilk. It’s like all this time, he wasn’t truly even full. Like he had a separate storage in this lard living planet between you just for your hot fresh pure milk.

“J-Joel,” you moan, eyes rolling. He’s always been good at sex. Always had a great body, but this…this is different. You can feel all of him pressing against you. Burrying your nub and hitting it so deliciously from the outside as he pummels you from the inside. You fee like a little doll, being used like a flashlight up and down along his thick cock

“That’s it, Mommy, ride me. Ride my fat cock. Ride it till ya swollen here—“ he pokes at your stomach “—as big as mine, like ya said.” You grin, biting your teeth. “B-bigger.”

He smiles. “Bigger.” His beefy hands wrap around your back and pull you as close to him as you can physically manage. “Let Daddy do all the work on that one. Just gotta take my cream, at’s all. I drink yours—n’ you take mine.”

“Mmfff--fuck—fuckyes Daddy fill me up—fill me with your cream! Ah! oh shit I’m cumming! Make me a Mommy again!”

You spasm, convulsing around Joel’s base just as he stills and ruts his second load inside you, grunting into your tits like a pained beast. You feel each pulse overwhelming your walls, yet having nowhere else to go but inside. The man has never cum so much in a second orgasm in his life, and you start to wonder if any of this is your own milk having traveled to his balls and deposited safely inside you again.

As the two of you come down, breathing in and holding one another tightly, Joel pecks at your jaw with feather kisses.

“You know…I won’t be lactating forever.” You twirl some of his curly brown hair out of his sweaty temple. “It’s going to end eventually.”

He only shrugs.

Gasping as his dick twitches to life inside you once again, he presses his lips to yours and begins shallowly thrusting again. “Guess I’m just gonna have to keep knocking you up.”

- - - -

Notes: I have plans for more Fat!Joel content in a variety of flavors...not just subby and breastfeeding. Will be different characters and have other independent requests so stay tuned!

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paperultra · 7 months ago

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HOME (TO THE OL’ BALL AND CHAIN)

(OR, THE PIÑA COLADA SONG)

Pairing: Chilchuck Tims x Fem!Chilchuck's Wife!Reader Word Count: 2,499 words Warnings: None Summary: Five years after leaving your first and only love, you take the plunge into the dating scene – and immediately regret it. Maybe you're too picky, but none of the men you go out with seem to fit the bill; they're too non-committal, or too eager, or too happy, or too sad, or simply just too much ... so after a particularly bad experience, your youngest makes a last-ditch effort to set you up on a blind date with someone who she insists deserves a chance. You reluctantly agree. read on ao3 | read on quotev

DATE #1: CASUAL LUNCH Estranged husband — 1 Estranged wife — 1 Everything left unsaid — as desired

There’s bacon grease on his shirt.

You can see it underneath his collar, round fingerprints staining the pale linen grey, and when he leans across the threshold into Fler’s home all you can think about is laundry day at the end of the week.

It would be rude to admit that out loud, though.

“Thank you for walking me home,” you say.

“When can I see you again?”

“I don’t know.”

Abelwood teeters forward still. “Well, don’t take too long, hear? You ain’t gettin’ any younger.”

Laughter erupts from the beer in his gut, and you laugh along with him. Abelwood is a rowdy drunk, you’ve learned, which is better than a cruel drunk or a lecherous drunk. It is not the kind of drunk that you are used to bringing home, even if he is only brought to the front door, but –

You smile, regardless.

“Goodnight,” you bid, closing the door inch by inch, your last bit of energy disappearing with the click of the lock.

You hold your breath. It takes three minutes and thirty-seven seconds for the man to leave your front doorstep, and you wait thirty more seconds after that to peek through the window, verifying that he is far enough away before resting your forehead against the door with a groan.

“Oh, boy.”

“I’m too old for this, Fler,” you mutter into the wood. “He was awful.”

Flertom lets out a sigh and closes the distance to squeeze you in a hug, pressing her cheek against your back like she’s done ever since she grew tall enough to do so. “I’m sorry, Mama,” she says.

“I’m sorry too.”

As you pat her hands and turn around to smile wryly at her, Puckpatti pipes up from the middle of the living room.

“He was a pig,” she exclaims. “Calling you by your first name! And he wasn’t even that handsome!”

“Looks aren’t everything, Puck,” you reply sharply, and she pouts, squeezing the lump of clay in her hands until it squishes out between her fingers. “He was a pig for the way he acted.”

“Well … that too.”

“He also smelled like one,” Fler says.

You detach yourself from your daughter to loosen the belt at your waist, frowning down at your dress and nice leather shoes. The dress feels just about as worn out as you do, the fabric soft and droopy from the humidity, the sunshine-yellow color less vibrant than it had been earlier this evening. The man had spilled beer on the floor of the bar and your shoes still look slightly sticky. Peeling them off just reminds you of the way he had laughed.

“Fler,” you say, “get me a wet rag, would you?”

“Sure, Mama.” Flertom turns to Puckpatti. “Puck, get a wet rag.”

“My hands are all dirty!” your youngest protests, showing her grey palms. “Mei’s closer to the water bucket.” She points to Meijack, who you now notice lingering by the kitchen.

Meijack blinks slowly, then silently fetches a rag, wets it, and brings it to you.

“Are you gonna keep trying, Ma?” she asks while you scrub the heel of your left shoe. “All these guys seem to be wasting your time.”

The chuckle that leaves your mouth is short and dry. “After this one, I don’t think so.” You glance up at your daughters and smile, straightening. “Maybe I should just take you all out on a girls’ date next time, huh? Forget about men for a little while.”

Meijack shrugs. Puckpatti nods eagerly.

“I just don’t know what’s wrong,” Flertom frets. “I’ve seen most of them at work before, and they seemed nice enough even when they were drunk …”

You shrug hopelessly and cross into the living room to sit on the couch. “Maybe it’s me.” As you lean back into the cushions, Meijack and Flertom join you on either side. “I’ve only ever been with one man my whole life. Maybe I don’t even know what I want …”

There’s a moment of silence. You look up at the ceiling of Flertom’s home, rubbing your temples and willing your frustration with yourself to not spill over while your daughters are watching. How embarrassing. Here you are, their mother, who is supposed to show them an example of a happy relationship, only for them to comfort you after another failed date. It should be the other way around. Half-foots don’t live long enough for things like this; your own mother had told you when you first left him that you should’ve just sucked it up.

Finally, Flertom speaks up. “Mama,” she starts, hesitant, and you look over to see her playing with her fingers, “Do you really want to date someone?”

“It’s been long enough, don’t you think?” you answer.

As you say so, a name resurfaces in your mind, unbidden, and the face that belongs to it. Your jaw tightens and you look down at your hands.

“Well … um … Papa wrote last week, and he said that he wanted to talk to you sometime. Just a little bit.”

Your tone hardens. “And what does that have to do with me dating, Fler?”

She flinches and her lips push out. “Come on, Mama! It’s been years, and after everything he went through, I really think he’s better now! Don’t you at least want to talk to him? You were so in love with each other before he started adventuring, and now that he’s retired from it …”

You hold your hand up, and her jaw clicks shut.

“I know what you’re getting at, Flertom,” you say quietly. “And right now is not the best time to bring up your father.”

Your daughter deflates, her cheeks rosy. “But –”

“I mean it.” Standing, you heave a deep breath and examine the cluttered workstation that Puckpatti had set up on the living room table. “Puckpatti, make sure to clean up after you’re done. I’m going to bed.”

While the girls mope, you head to your bedroom, doing your best to occupy your thoughts with work at the blacksmith’s tomorrow. You think about the chain mail you’re supposed to be making, the little metal rings to form and weave together, and hope they’re what you dream of, not self-absorbed dates or unwanted kisses.

You blame Flertom for the auburn hair and hearty laughs that plague your night instead.

—

A week later, Puckpatti accosts you as soon as you walk through the door.

“Mama, I found a man for you!”

“Oh?” you reply blandly, hand still clutching at your chest from having the living daylights scared out of it. “Who is it?”

“That’s a secret! But he’s really nice, I promise.”

Sighing, you remove your vest. “I don’t know, Puck. How did you meet him?”

“He bought one of my clay sticks.” You can’t stop yourself from frowning, despite your desire to support your daughter’s entrepreneurial spirit, and she giggles. “Oh, please, Mama, he didn’t believe my pitch. I think I just charmed him into buying it. He seems really clever!”

“Are you sure he wasn’t interested in you?”

She makes a disgusted face. “Eww! No, I told him about you and he seemed interested.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mama, you’re a catch. Of course he’d want to go on a date with you.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, honey.” You glance at her before heading to the kitchen to put away the bread and cheese you’d bought. “Is he a half-foot?”

“Maybe.”

“I thought I’d met all the half-foots in Kahka Brud.”

“Maybe he just moved here.”

She looks up innocently when you raise an eyebrow at her. “And you’re sure I’ll like him,” you drawl, more suspicious by the minute. (Of what, you’re not quite sure.)

“Positive.”

It is incredibly difficult, you think with equal parts pride and concern, to say no to your youngest daughter. It’s probably why you worry about her the most. “This is the last date I’ll go on, Puckpatti. It will be on you.”

Puckpatti cheers. She hugs you as you chuckle at her enthusiasm, jumping up and down. “Yay! I’ll get a time and day that’ll work best. It’ll be great! You’ll love him!”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

—

The day arrives with a mellow sun and clear sky.

You wear your green dress with the floral details, and Puckpatti picks a necklace to go along with it, a thin, simple one that you haven’t worn in years. Flertom does your makeup and Meijack does your hair.

And as you sit in a corner of the tavern fifteen minutes early, hands nervously clasped in your lap, you wonder, just as you have with every date prior, what you’ve gotten yourself into.

Maybe he won’t show up. It would be improper, and juvenile, but then you could go home and say that you did try. Your desire for a new romance has all but dwindled completely, and as you trace the scratches on the wooden table, you wonder if it was even a desire at all.

Footsteps approach from behind. You can tell they belong to a half-foot by the weight and sound – light and small – as they come around to the other side of the table. Your shoulders tighten. Forcing a smile, you look up.

Your heart promptly surges upward into your throat before plummeting to your toes.

Chilchuck gawks down at you, eyes wide. His mouth parts to utter your full name, and you feel your lungs squeeze at how it sounds coming from him, soft from years of disuse.

“You came,” he says.

“Chil – Chilchuck.” His name is ashy and sweet behind your teeth. “What are you doing here?”

He furrows his brow. “What do you mean? The girls said that you were willing to meet up.”

“No, I’m meeting with one of Puck’s customers.”

“What? That doesn’t …” he trails off, and the two of you seem to realize the same thing at the same time.

You bury your head in your hand as Chilchuck grits his teeth.

Those scheming …

“I’m sorry they dragged you into this,” you mutter as you get up from your seat, your voice cold and flat. “I’ll be going now.”

His head snaps up. “Going? But –”

You hurry past him, dodging the hand that you know has reached out for your own.

Home is a ten-minute walk away. You can clear your head in that time, then scold your daughters for meddling, though it’s partially your fault for not questioning Puckpatti about your supposed date more thoroughly. You just didn’t think that they would try something like this.

(Or that Chilchuck would bother to go along with it.)

You pull the door open with some effort and rush out into a downpour of rain.

Your hair gets drenched before you backpedal with a yelp. Pressing against the wall underneath the awning, you look out helplessly at the soaked streets, their gutters already filling with water and debris flowing down the incline. Is … is that a drowning rat?

The storm’s earthiness floods your nose, late in its prediction by half an hour. Just your luck.

You fumble with the clasp of your necklace to remove it, not wanting to get it wet. While you struggle, the tavern door creaks open behind you.

“So you don’t even want to talk. Even after all these years, you’re going to walk away again.”

“Do you know why I walked away the first time?” The damn thing won’t unhook. You scowl, the presence at your back making your usually nimble fingers clumsy.

“No,” Chilchuck says. “I don’t. Not for certain.”

“That’s why.” With each failed attempt to separate the rings, your fingertips grow sorer, your throat thickening. He’s too close. You hate how he’s watching you fail such a simple task. “You stopped knowing, Chilchuck. That’s why.”

Underneath the sharp sound of rain, you can hear his breath hitch, then quiet.

You bite your lip and let your arms fall to your sides, giving up on trying to take your necklace off. Your chest aches. You don’t want to cry in front of him.

“So, there, we talked like you wanted.”

He stops you before you can step out into the rain.

“Wait. What … what about your necklace?” he asks hesitantly, like it’s not what he really wants to say, but merely a way to stall for time.

This time, you look over your shoulder at him. “I’ll dry it real well once I get home,” you reply.

Chilchuck’s mouth presses into a fine line. He grabs the cloak folded over the crook of his elbow, and it is then that you notice the bouquet of blue and pink flowers in his other hand. The ache in your chest flares into a raw, pulsing hurt.

“I’m guessing you’d rather not have me walk you.” He speaks evenly, holding his cloak out towards you. “It’s not completely waterproof, but keep this over your head, at least …” his voice quiets, “please.”

Wordlessly, you take the garment from him. The inner lining is warm against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he tells you. “For not knowing.” His fist tightens around the flowers, and he stares at you resolutely. “I want to again, if you’ll let me.”

Ah.

You swallow. “I … I don’t know.”

“It doesn’t have to be today. I can wait.”

Breaking eye contact and looking down, Chilchuck roughs his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. The cut is the same as it’s always been, auburn bangs thick and soft over his brow. And you recognize the shirt he’s wearing, a practical, clean wool shirt that you made some years ago. He’s taken good care of it.

It’s all the same. All the same, and yet, something that you can’t quite identify has changed.

You bring his cloak closer to your chest and bite your bottom lip.

“… Give me a week.”

His entire body loses its tension.

“Really?” He looks at you like he can’t believe it, and you avert your gaze, ears warming and moving back the slightest bit.

“Give me a week to decide,” you clarify. “Fler or Mei will let you know … this is really abrupt, after all …”

Chilchuck nods. “That’s fine!” he exclaims. “You didn’t know, so I understand. A week is – a week’s good.”

You nod back, hesitant.

The rain continues its heavy downpour.

“Right … well …” you turn slightly, casting him one last glance, “I’ll give your cloak back, regardless. Don’t get sick.”

“Okay. Stay … stay safe.”

With that, you wrap yourself in the thick fabric, rushing out of the safety of the awning. The run back home smells of woodsmoke and thyme, and when you open the door to three guilty daughters and three apologies, it lingers.

You hang his cloak near the fireplace. It’s evidence of a weak resolve that you stay until it’s dry, and even more damning that you know your answer long before it is.

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dunmeshi #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuk tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck #dungeon meshi fanfiction #reader insert #fem!reader #my emotional support middle-aged divorced father of three.......#throw this guy in a childhood friends to lovers to estranged lovers to lovers fic and see how he handles it #chilchuck's wife!reader let's gooooo

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 months ago

Text

Just Friends: Big News

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

masterlist

Summary: You have a surprise for Bucky.

It’s giving

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Hey!” You bounce up to the table. It’s funny how Bucky can look so intent. So gloomy in the midst of the bustling cafe. He sits up as he puts his phone down on the table. “I’m sorry I’m late. I got great news!”

“Oh?” His brows lower, “well, you’re double sugar frappa-whatever is melting.”

He points across the table as you sit and roll your eyes.

“If you tried it, you wouldn’t be making fun of me. They are delicious!” You put your purse in your lap and take a long slurp through the straw. You pop your lips off and let out and ‘ahhhhh’. You smile at him as he gives you that look.

“I don’t take sugar in my coffee and you barely take coffee in your sugar,” he drones.

You giggle. He's always so grumpy about the smallest things.

“News?” He prompts dully.

“Right,” you wiggle in your seat. “I got you a date!”

He twitches and tilts his head, “a date?” He gives you a cautious look and shifts in his seat. “Uh...”

“Yes! This lawyer lady I know. I met her at a trivia night way back and added her on Insta. Well, I saw her post the other day and I was like how did I not think of this before?”

“Lawyer?” He mutters. “I... you’re setting me up with a stranger?”

“It’s a blind date. It’s fun. She’s really established and smart and beautiful. Oh my god, she posted this picture of her in a bikini—I could never wear something like that.” You get your phone out and he sighs.

“Wait, why did you do that?” He grits.

You look above the screen at him, “well, you said the other day that you get lonely. That’s why you have Alpine, right? And she’s so sweeeeet,” you drag out the word in adoration, “but you need someone you can talk to. Who can talk back.”

“We talk,” he insists.

“Yes, but we’re friends. You need someone your own age. Or closer to.”

“Wait, how old is she?” He wonders.

“Aha, you’re interested,” you point at him accusatorily.

“I’m asking questions.”

“Right, she’s... fifty something? She doesn’t look it. Like you. You don’t look... uh... 1917... carry the one...”

“Stop that,” he demands. “I know how goddamn old I am.”

“Ha, yeah, sorry, I...” you scroll through your Insta friends. “Here!” You turn the phone to him and beam a smile in his direction. He glances at it for a split second and shrugs. He sits back and drinks his coffee.

“I’m not really... in that scene,” he says.

“You should get out there! I mean, you can’t bring Sam and Steve to dinner all the time. You need someone--”

“Is this what it’s about? Because I showed up at the restaurant?” He asks.

“No, it’s-- I’m being a friend. You two are so alike and she loves old movies and motorcycles. I could never! I'd fall off or not tie my helmet right,” you chuckle.

“Dreamy,” he growls.

“Bucky,” you whine back. “You gotta get out and have some fun.”

“We have fun,” he counters.

“We do and that’s awesome—Oh, okay, how about, I got an idea! A double date.”

“A double—you have... a boyfriend?” He taps the porcelain cup with his metal fingertip.

“Ha, no way. But I could find someone to come along. Just so you’re not alone. There’s a few guys at the restaurant I’m sure would go for a free meal or I mean I know other cute girls. I’m not picky.”

He closes his eyes and a line forms between his brows. He pinches his nose and squares his shoulders. “Where the hell did you come up with the idea that I wanted to date?”

“I...” you sit back and your smile falls. His blue eyes flick open as he drops his hand. The dimple in his cheek ticks. “I’m sorry, I thought it was—I was... trying to be a good friend.”

He stares at you and the stone slowly eases from his jaw. He looks down and back up. He huffs.

“I’m sorry, dreamy,” he says, “it’s just been a while for me. Not that I haven’t thought of it, you know? But I don’t know if I’m ready for that.” He shakes his head and glances around the cafe. “The last time I dance with a dame was a goddamn USO tour in 1945.”

That hits you like a sixteen-wheeler. You didn’t know that. You didn’t think of it. He’s been in this world for a while and he’s handsome and a superhero! You just though he’d have lots of people interested. Charlize sure seemed excited when you asked.

“And now you’re looking at me like I’m a loser because I haven’t kissed a gal in 80 years--”

“No, you’re not a loser. If you are, then I am.”

“Come on, you don’t gotta--”

“Really. I never kissed anyone. Not lying.”

He shakes his head and scoffs, “oh no, you’re not lying to make me feel better.”

You put on your most sober face, “Bucky, I swear,” your cheeks burn and you put your hands on your neck. “I mean... it would be nice I’m sure but it just never came up.” He looks at you quietly. You squirm. “I know you can hear that I’m telling the truth.”

“Yeah, I know,” he accepts at last. He crosses his arms and clicks his tongue, “fine. If you’re going to suffer through it, I will too.” He looks away as his jaw tenses, “if you’re going to keep pulling that puppy dog face, one day, it’s gonna wear off.”

“Yes! Bucky’s got a date! Bucky’s got a date!” You sing out of tune.

“Stop,” he snarls and narrows his eyes at you. You wince and giggle.

“Yay!” You put your hands up in a demure celebration and he tuts.

“You’re so cheesy,” he sneers.

“And you’re a party pooper. No moping on date night, got it?” You try to put on a stern face and he squints even harder. Finally, he cracks and gives a chuckle.

“You’re ridiculous,” he sniffs. “You and tough, don’t go together.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #just friends #series #au #drabble #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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venusacrossthestars · 9 months ago

Text

barbies

Pairings- Dad!Daniel x Mom! Reader

WC-1.1k

Summary- Daniel does in fact not know how to play Barbies

f1 masterlist

A/N- anytime I can slander Tika I will. IYKYK

Daniel had thought that he had the whole girl-dad thing down. He knew how to act during tea parties. He knew not to move during makeovers. He would sing, albeit terribly, during the Princes part of Disney song just so his little girl could focus on singing the Princesses part. He thought he had it all down, but there was one thing he couldn’t master for the life of him- playing Barbies.

Everytime Charlotte asked him to play it always ended in frustration for both parties. It seemed that no matter what he did it was always wrong. On one occasion he had Robert, the Ken doll that was affectionately renamed, and Charlotte her Barbie- Margot.

Daniel was laying on the floor, acting his part believing all was well. “Well don’t you look radiant today darling,” he said as he walked Robert into the Dreamhouse.

This was all it took to set off the six year old, “No daddy! Robert doesn’t call Margot ‘darling’ he calls her babe and Margot calls him honey.”

“Well why can’t he call her darling?” Daniel, genuinely curious as to why it mattered.

“Because you always call mommy babe and she always calls you honey,” she stated it as the most obvious fact in the world.

Daniel found it adorable that your daughter took notice of something as small as pet names and integrated it into her own little world. However, she wasn’t amused. “Daddy, you don’t have to play anymore, I can play by myself now.” She said, taking Robert out of Daniels hand. He didn’t have the courage to argue, knowing how particular she was when it came to playing with her Barbies.

Later that night, long after Charlotte had gone to bed, the two of you sat in bed watching reruns of your favorite show.

“Your daughter is very picky about her pet names for her Barbies,” Daniel tells you, remembering the incident that happened earlier.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Very much so, Robert only calls Margot ‘babe’ and she only calls him ‘honey’, and you want to know what she told me?” You hum in curiosity, Daniel continues, “its because those are the pet names we call each other. She then proceeded to relieve me of my Barbie duties.”

“As she should, playing Barbies is very serious business.” You tease back. “I was the same way.”

“Why is it so hard to play dolls,” Daniel buries his head into his pillow.

“Don’t worry honey,” you rub his back in soothing circles, “maybe one day you’ll get the hang of it.”

“You never have problems when you play with her.”

“You forget that I was a little girl once.”

Every time Daniel, in his words, fucked up playing Barbies he noticed that Charlotte wouldn’t ask him to play dolls with her for a couple days. He didn’t want to sound childish, but it did in fact hurt his feelings.

As usual, days passed before Charlotte asked him to play again. And as usual Daniel had somehow screwed up, but this was no ordinary screw up, this was monumental. He didn’t even know what he did wrong, things were going so well until they weren’t.

“Mommy!” The little girl yelled, “mommy!”

“What?!” Your voice carried throughout the house.

“Daddy isn’t playing Barbies right.” She whined.

In a matter of seconds you appeared in the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest, “what’s going on?”

“I have no idea,” Daniel admits, “we’re sitting here and all of the sudden I’m not doing it right.”

“Charlotte, baby, remember what I told you?” you remind your daughter.

She nods in response, “I’m sorry daddy, I know you don’t know how to play Barbies.”

Daniel looks flabbergasted at what his daughter has just said to him and looks at you through squinted eyes. “You told her I don’t know how to play Barbies?”

“No, I told her you don’t know how to play the real version of Barbies, you think you know how to, but in reality you play the straight man way.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Baby, how about you and me show daddy how we play Barbies?” You ask your daughter, whose face lights up in excitement. She gets up and hurries over to her bin of Barbies to pull out your designated Barbie, Lisa.

You move into the room and sit next to Daniel, “watch and learn from the master.”

The three of begin to play and Daniel thinks all is normal, you are doing everything that he typically does, but things quickly take a turn.

You walk up Lisa to Robert, “Hiiiii Robert, you look good today.”

Charlotte, well Margot, quickly interrupts, “why are you talking to my man?” Daniels eyes widen, where did she learn this from?

“I was just giving him a compliment Marggie.”

Charlotte shakes Margot in faux rage, “how many times do I have to tell you that my name is Margot.”

“Well I think its just the cutest nickname, don’t you Robbie?” You turn Lisa’s attention to the Ken doll Daniel is holding. Daniel doesn’t move or say anything.

“Are you going to let her talk to me like that Robert?” His daughter- no- Margot questions.

“See he agrees with me,” you move the dolls hand so it is now resting on Roberts shoulder.

This proceeds to set your daughter off. “I have had it with you and your flirting towards my boyfriend!”

“Well what are you going to do about it?” You taunt.

“I’ll show you what!” Charlotte exclaims and then lunges towards you and Lisa.

Daniel just sits in shock, the noise of plastic colliding, your mock ow’s between giggles, and Charlotte’s laughter fills his ears. When he thought of Barbies he always thought of dressing up dolls, making little families, all that soft stuff. Not this.

“You alright over there honey?” You ask your husband, who just continues to stare in disbelief “Charlotte I think we broke your father.”

“I’ve never seen anyone play Barbies like this.”

“Well this is how I’ve always played, but my mom did say once that I played…. Uniquely,” you shrug.

“That was fun!” Charlotte exclaims, throwing herself into your arms.

You cradle her close to your chest, “I’m glad, did you learn anything?”

“Yeah,” Daniel responds, “that I truly know nothing about playing barbies.”

“This is mild compared to the scenarios I made up,” you admit.

“This. Mild? What did you do to your dolls woman?”

“I’m not telling you with such influenceable ears around.”

“My God,” is all Daniel can manage out.

“Hey, don’t judge me.”

“I’m just rethinking my life choices.”

“You asked me to marry you, you knew fully well what you were getting yourself into.”

“Mommy?” Charlotte interjects, “can we watch one of those old barbie movies?”

You groan. “They aren’t even that old!” You exclaim. “Which one did you want to watch?”

“The Island Princess one!”

At that Daniel groans, “that’s the one with the annoying elephant isn’t it?”

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you

@arieslost @miaa1001 @babybadger @k3nmakyan @livelovesports @aspens-trees @yeetskeetstreet @racingheartsposts @emmma232 @isalovestaylor @imchiarashelby1 @m4dyi @melissayalene-blog @gothicwidowsworld @lizzieolsenfan86 @firestormsandlightning @erjn45 @evelyn-4034 @vkncgzxf @naaanasworld @ladyoflynx @bre99 @foulsongfest @teenagedramqueen @kstyles-06 @asparklysoul @kodzzukenn @snakelore @lochnoch @hhppw7 @whentheautumnleavesfall @gxuh @clarasmagic @xoxonoire @annahowardsworld @estellabookreader @user2604 @babysitter19 @dylan-obrienn24 @sadisticfries @cocote1410 @prettylittlels @itsbwokenln4 @amandaauroraelli @wargetter @happylittlereader @2502zena @bathedinheat @itsmeeluciie @olivyamarvelgirl @justtprachisblog @its-cat-eyes @embonbon @nickxcorpse @accnt-1 @cosmoscoffeee @phantomxoxo @caramelahamilton @inejismylife @iloved111lfs @caseket @selsbackyard @alex0808 @blueberrysmoothie673 @sergantbarnesbitch @a-disturbing-self-reflection @bethiebeth12 @thereisa8ella @giada-chan @slaygirlbossworld @chuchiestpt

#formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo

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uplatterme · 2 years ago

Note

aether and kaveh look like disney princesses i wanna fuck the shit out of

there is no need for elaboration

-🪸

—okay. you’ve got me hooked. rapunzel!aether in part 2! (tba)

—cinderella!kaveh/royalty!reader, sub!bottom!kaveh/top!dom!reader, amab!reader (referred with they/them pronouns) | cinderella au, semi-public sex, quickie, clothed sex, cum as lube, porn with actual plot (don’t let the tags fool u, this is so fucking soft)

You completely regret hosting this party.

It was something that your advisor had tasked you to do. Host a party, find a suitable partner, get an heir so the kingdom has someone to depend on, blah blah blah.

It’s not like you were even that old.

You sigh, a cigarette on your lips as you lay your back on the wall of the balcony. So many folks festering you, for that chance that you’ll somehow hand them their crown.

Your head aches at the number of conversations you have had to endure just to be polite, the amount of times you’ve had to shake off someone from hugging your arm without your consent.

“Oh, fuck!” You hear someone yelp.

And while the owner of this voice sounds overly anxious, you can’t help but want to hear it again, especially with the polite wording that the attendees have used to butter you up. someone swearing right in front of you catches your interest.

Hands reach the bottom of the balcony, and someone lifts their body up to get on the platform.

“Oh god, why is the entrance so crowded?” The person says.

Your ears perk up at that.

“Well, their highness did host it. it’s been a while since such an event has happened.” You answer.

The figure flinches, turning their attention to you.

Your mouth gapes as you finally see who that voice belonged to. Everything about him is enticing that you can’t help but to drown in his gaze.

He’s properly dressed as well, although not anything overwhelming to the eyes.

Now, which family had been hiding such a prince from you?

“Ah sorry, I didn’t realize someone was here.” He quickly apologizes. His cheeks flush, not expecting someone to catch him climbing up a balcony.

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” You offer, craving more of him.

He shakes his head, much to your disappointment.

“I’m actually here for something else.” he says.

You hum. “Also aiming for the heart of their highness, then?”

Take it, unknown prince.

“What?! N-No, not at all!” He screams in reply. “I mean, I'd be flattered if their highness even finds me a bit intriguing.”

“Have you met them?” You ask.

“Oh. I haven’t really got the time for that.” He answers, although he seems to be in a melancholy thought when he does.

Still, you breathe at his beauty. You think you can stare at him for your whole life.

You quickly try to change the topic.

“So, what are you here for?”

He points behind you.

You turn your head back but what faces you is nothing but the empty hallway.

“Sorry?” You question.

“The castle.”

His answers just keep surprising you.

He blushes, rubbing his arm as he paces around the small space of the balcony.

“You’re interested in the architecture?”

As soon as you mention that, he brightens up. “Yes! From what I've seen, it’s alright.”

You feel offended. It is your castle, one for which you’ve decided most of the structure. He seems to notice his mistake as he panics.

“But don’t tell anyone that! Especially not their highness…”

You grin.

“Perhaps, the inside can change your mind?”

“Inside? I don’t think we’re allowed—”

“If we don’t get caught, it’s fine, right?”

“Yes, but—”

You grab the stranger’s hand and lead him inside, he stumbles in after you, the warmth in your hand startling him.

You bring him into different rooms, hoping that one of them will at least suit his taste.

“This?”

“It’s a bit cramped, the furniture set is going against the wallpaper.”

You roll your eyes, he’s so damn picky. That, or you’re just really bad at interior decorating.

Still, you smile at every single word he says. Being royalty, you have no damn clue what he’s saying. But with that pretty voice of his, you could listen to it for hours.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh? What if their highness were merely shown bad choices by their architects?” You say, hoping that wouldn’t risk the random attendee persona that you’re playing at the moment.

“If that’s true, they should’ve fired those architects.” He states confidently.

You laugh. “And what, hire you instead?”

He purses his lips, he didn’t expect you to get that so easily.

He stays silent.

“Do you want to?” You ask.

“Get hired?” The look on his face is so innocent like he can’t even believe that you’re asking such a thing. As if the answer is painfully obvious.

You shake your head.

“To build a castle.”

He stares at you dumbfounded. His eyes glimmer as he grabs your hands and does so aggressively. You don’t mind even a second of it.

“Are you fucking crazy? T-That’s like my dream!” He admits. He’s smiling widely, his face nothing but only a few centimeters away from you.

He starts babbling about the materials he’ll make it with, the different types of rooms and decorations he’ll add. He’s so damn fascinating, you don’t even care about the speech that you’re supposed to give by midnight.

It’s like he has planned this for a long time. Everything he says is so intricate. His hands move as if he’s drawing it, he’s a bit shaky but it’s obvious that it’s from excitement. To your amazement, the way he describes everything makes it seem as if you’re actually in that castle in your head.

Once he realizes how much he’s talking, he stutters an apology.

“Sorry! It’s just that no one has ever asked me about this, I mean at home I—”

“Okay. I’ll give that to you.” You reply genuinely, your eyes are focused on his soft lips.

His chest heaves and his golden eyelashes flutter with grace…just looking at you.

“You know that’s impossible. I’m not even a professionally licensed architect.”

“It’s not.”

You’ll make it happen, even if your advisor goes against it. It doesn’t matter if you have to demolish the entire castle you’re in right now.

“It is! You’re just flattering me, I get it. You’ve been nothing but nice to me, but you don’t have to promise and lie to about such things.”

“I mean it.” You say it so sternly that he almost starts believing it.

He sighs deeply. “Going to this party is already a dream come true. There was this little green fairy with white hair, I—”

The words slip out of your mouth, cutting off whatever stupid things he has to say.

“Meeting you is a dream come true.”

The next few moments are a blur. Your hands are all over the unknown stranger. Fuck, it’s as if you’ve been hit with a love spell. You want to keep kissing his mouth, tell him that he has nothing to worry about when you’re with him. That you’ll do anything he asks.

Your prince whines and the sound has you going insane.

You want more.

You’ve gotten so addicted easily that your mind is insatiable.

It doesn’t matter that the room is left unlocked, no one is going to keep your hands off him.

“Hah—God!” He breathes enticingly. His mind is so hazy, so weak at how his heart is pounding each second.

You take off his coat, the clothing echoes as it falls down on the floor. His blouse is silk and you swear you can see the way his chest is lined underneath the white cloth.

Your fingers rubbed his hardened nipples and his entire body shivers. He holds onto your shoulders for support, the aroused moan that escapes his throat is just enough for you to keep doing it, and so you do.

“W-Wait! I-I’ll—” He pushes you for a moment, to take a breath as he slowly composes himself.

You watch him impatiently. You can see how his cock twitches from his tight pants, the wet spot in the center, and his dick dripping from precum as the white liquid seeps through it.

You keep your hands inside your pocket. Despite how your pants are perfectly fitted for you, your cock is begging for warmth, specifically from the blonde stranger in front of you.

He then nods.

“I’m okay…we can continue.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t have any—”

“I can take it. It’s fine.” He says as if he’s in a hurry. You’re not sure if it's just because he’s needy or if it’s something else.

You still indulge in his wants, however.

You’ll have to make do with his own fluids although you really don’t want to do anything that’ll hurt him.

Your fingers steadily prepare his walls and you’re trying your best to not be greedy. His needs first, more than anything.

He’s so damn tight, not that you need to worry much as the sounds he’s making are signaling everything but pain.

He’s so soft and so perfect that you’re starting to get jealous of even your own fingers.

“Are you..?”

He nods, and desire fills his eyes. It looks like you’re not the only one getting impatient.

When you finally feel his insides with your cock, the expectations you had were completely blown out of the water. Your hands find their way to his waist and it’s perfect.

The first thrust is enough to send you to heaven.

“Keep going.” He pleads.

You continue to pound into him, enjoying how each one brings out a soft mewl from the blonde.

His cock is dripping white on the floor, and the carpet gets soaked. You know you need to get that replaced but instead, you want to keep the stain there, as if some kind of trophy.

And while you stir up his insides, a familiar noise bothers your ears.

You don’t let it even phase you, enjoying the pleasure that’s eating you up.

However, your prince decides otherwise.

“H-Hold on! What was that—”

“Just the clock. You don’t need to bother yourself with it.”

A groan escapes your throat, feeling how he tenses up all of the sudden.

“Is it twelve?” He asks.

“N-No, but it’s close. Five more minutes.”

“I need to go.” He says.

No way was he leaving you like this.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry, but I—” His words are cut off by his moaning.

The way you fill him up has him salivating. You didn’t even move but god, his walls clenching on you are betraying his choices right now.

“T-Three minutes.” He whimpers out.

“Thank you, love.”

Your fingers feel up his cock, stroking it up and down while still continuing to pound ruthlessly. He continues to scream out, his mind too overwhelmed from getting his ass and cock ravaged at the same time.

His legs quiver and you have to hold him still. You’re both close and you’ll make sure to have him finish in time at least.

“F-Fuck!” He sobs.

And the worries in your head disappear, cumming inside his walls as he splatters more onto the carpet.

You sigh, your chest thumping as you stand there with your clothes a mess.

He quickly slides off you, trembling but still hastily moving as if the adrenaline has gotten into his head.

“I-I’m so sorry, I’ll try to get in contact with you again. I swear!” He stammers out before fixing his clothes, nearing the doorway.

“Don’t go through the balcony! There’s an exit to the right of this room!” You say, helping him out despite your wishes to keep him here.

“Thanks!” He shouts back.

You swipe the sweat on your forehead, zipping your pants back on.

The clock chimes as it signals it’s midnight. What a fucking way to end the night.

You hear rushed steps from the hallway.

Your attention turns to the door. Did he come back?

Your disappointment is immeasurable when you find out it’s just your advisor.

“Your highness! I’ve been looking everywhere, you’re late for your speech—Oh my god, what did you—No, who did you?!” She looks disappointed.

You look down. Ah, right.

Who?

Oh fuck, you never got his name.

“I didn’t ask. Oh no.” The realization slowly sets in.

“Excuse me?!” Your advisor answers offended by your words. You can tell how stressed she’s been, her teal hair in a mess.

“I’ll be right there. Let me clean up first, Ma’am”

“I’ll get everyone distracted. Jeez, young ones these days!” She says before rushing away.

The urge to punch the wall in front of you right now is high.

You look at the floor and notice the coat on the floor.

It smells just like him.

You lay your head on the cold table, mind filled with everything but your duties. The only thing that’s engraved in there is nothing but the sweet prince you met a while ago.

But no matter how many times you’ve gone through portraits of different royal families, even going through the nobles, you’re not met with a match.

“Your Highness. I see you’ve been distracted again.”

“Madame Faruzan, I cannot do this anymore.” You tell her wholeheartedly.

Your advisor rolls her eyes.

“Right after I caught you and that whole mess, you should be working.”

“He’s a great guy! He’s skilled with his hands.” You argue with her.

“I do not need to hear what he did with you.”

“That’s not what I meant! He’s an architect, he’s good! I’ve heard how he works, I’ll vouch for him.”

“You’re biased. Something that a ruler should not have. I told you this when you were younger.” She warns you.

It seems that she won’t hear you out no matter how hard you try.

“I really cannot focus.” You say.

It’s the truth. You’ve been sleeping with that coat for weeks, along with other things. As if it’s actually him to begin with.

“If he’s such a great architect, then why don’t you work with that?”

An idea enters your head.

“Ma’am, you’re a genius.”

“Of course.” She says confidently with a smile.

She shakes the compliment off, lord knows she's the smartest person you’ve ever met.

“So? What’s your verdict?” She asks.

A day after, a letter was sent out to the people of your kingdom.

Needless to say, everyone was freaking out.

“Goodness, that’s a big deal. Isn’t it?”

“Right! That’s a big opportunity.”

The entire market was in an uproar as Kaveh shops for his family. He couldn’t care any, especially not with the consequences he faced from being caught out late in the night. They never knew that he went to the party, but he’s sure his snarky scholar of a step-sibling knows.

“Oh, Kaveh.” A friendly face greets him.

“Miss Nilou.”

She smiles at him,

“Are you participating?”

The confused face of Kaveh is enough for Nilou to shake the soul out of him.

“You have to! Their highness is currently looking for an architect to turn the whole castle into something new!”

Kaveh’s eyes widen. “…Actually?”

“Yes! Oh, you have to hurry! It’s only up till today!” She brings it up, and Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can.

It’s almost like a dream come true.

First, that little green fairy that gave him the opportunity to attend the party in the first place. Then, that person he met at the said party who he flushes at every time he thinks of them. And now, this?

He almost tears the whole place down from searching for his plates.

Kaveh compiles it in an envelope. He feels rewarded as if everything that he’s gone through has finally led up to something.

“Fuck! Where is it?” He’s missing a folder.

Technically, what he’s giving is already more of what was asked for. Still, the perfectionist in him cannot stand to not have everything in its place, especially not with the opportunity that he was presented with.

A knock comes from his door and he flinches, his family cannot know about this. They’ll get rid of it again.

“It’s just me.” He relaxes, rolling his eyes before turning back.

“Asshole,” Kaveh says.

“After I saw your folder in the living room and kept it? Alright, I’ll guess I’ll throw it out.” Al-Haitham replies sarcastically.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I kept it for a reason. I wouldn’t throw it out now.” Kaveh forcefully takes out the folder and shoves it into his envelope.

He wants to say thanks, but his pride is too high for that.

“Be home before your curfew, I won’t cover for you.” Al-Haitham says.

Kaveh knows that he will despite the annoying tone that he’s using.

He runs to the front of the castle as fast as he can, his legs were not made out for this kind of journey. Still, he won’t give up.

He reaches the gates luckily, just an hour before the deadline.

Now, all he had to do was wait.

“We got a lot of submissions…and most of them are barely even considered actual pieces. I mean, look at this. Who would turn a castle into a teapot?” Faruzan complains, searching through the different envelopes.

You take a look at the amount and you couldn’t help but agree more. It’s absurd.

“Everyone who’s a licensed architect can be thrown away.” You ordered.

“Did I hear that correctly?” She eyes you as if you’re crazy.

You are.

“It’s fine, I have faith in him.”

After that, the submissions are lessened quite easily. While there were some that had fit up to the standards, they weren’t simply what you were looking for.

You remember every single thing he said, if you could just match that up with an envelope then you’ll be fine.

“We have two left.” Your advisor states.

Two names in front of you. One was named ‘Albedo’ and the other one was named ‘Kaveh’. You hesitate to open, the anxiety that he never heard of this competition or that you have sorted away his piece is eating you.

Your advisor notices this and gives one of her very rare encouragement.

“You said you have faith.”

You sigh, trying to calm down.

“I do.” You say it just loud enough to believe it.

You and Faruzan both take one, opening them at the same time.

Your hands shake as you do.

This ‘Albedo’ is good. God, it’s gorgeous. Though what he’s sent out are more artistic than they are architectural, you can see the vision that he’s presenting, it’s something you think your mystery man would find great fun studying.

You literally cannot do this.

You only had one chance left.

It’s this or nothing.

Faruzan holds your hand while you go through his envelope. It’s breathtaking, it’s almost as what you imagined that time Kaveh was talking to you were right here, laid out perfectly.

“Kaveh.” The name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

Finally.

You dress up in a nice outfit, sitting on the carriage’s seat, trying your best not to scream. You could have gotten the wrong person, but you’re sure that this Kaveh is him.

You’re not accompanied by anyone except your coachman. You’ve asked him “if you’re there yet” about five times.

You bury your face in your hands. This is fine, you’ll be fine.

You almost smack your head face-first on the seat when the carriage comes to a stop without any warning.

The door opens for you.

You hear the gossiping of the people around you and you give them that perfect smile you’ve been taught to do even if it makes you feel uncomfortable.

There’s a person by the door. One who’s certainly not the one you met at the party.

“Hello.” You greet.

“Your highness.” He replies, bowing his head.

There is an awkward silence between the two of you. It is clear that neither of you likes talking.

“I’m looking for—”

“Kaveh, I presume?”

You nod nervously.

He opens the door and shouts, an annoyed response can be heard from the outside.

Everything’s fine, you rule this kingdom. If it’s another person, you can just bomb the whole place away!

The joking in your head does not make it any better.

“I swear this better be important, I was busy—” He stops talking as soon as he meets with your eyes.

There’s a flushed look on his face that matches yours.

“Oh. It’s you…”

There come the gasps from around you.

“He did not just call them that.”

“How disrespectful!”

“Right?!”

You cough, unsure how to state why you’re here. You just hand him the contract.

He shakes as he reads it.

“What…?”

“I told you that I’ll build you a castle.” You remind him.

Kaveh remembers and you can see everything click right in his face. He’s very expressive, not that you were a stranger to that.

“Y-Your Highness.” He stutters.

You wonder if it’s appropriate to go down on your knee.

Fuck it. You can have Madame Faruzan reprimand you later.

The people watching scream in shock as you go down on one knee.

“Now that we have that out of the way…Will you do me the honor of ruling by your side?”

Please say yes, please say yes, please say—

“What?!” Kaveh yells at you.

“G-Get up! Oh my god, your highness!” He tells you.

“I’m not standing up unless you say yes.”

The man you talked to previously whistles before heading inside the house. Kaveh glares at him, he did just not leave him in a situation like this.

“I’m serious, Kaveh.”

“You’re crazy.” He says.

“I know.” You look up to him hopefully.

He’s so red, it’s almost painful to look at. Not that you were any different from his case.

“I—Alright! Yes! So stand up already, your cape is getting dirty and everyone’s looking so—”

You pull Kaveh down by his collar, drowning in his sweet familiar lips.

#plattered writings #dom reader #sub genshin impact #dom!reader #sub genshin #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x reader #sub kaveh #sub!kaveh #sub kaveh x reader #thirsts for blake

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pigeonpeach · 10 months ago

Text

Love potion yandere <3

Cw: dub con, suggestive themes, drugging, yandere themes,

Prompt: You recently received a potion from a strange old lady you helped out. You helped her pick out a cute bunny plushie for her daughter and even helped pay for it. As reward she gave you that potion and payed you back. Telling you it will show wether or not someone loves you. If they don’t, then they will act as if nothing happened. But if they do then it will strengthen their love to the point they cannot resist showing affection to you. You were in fact: quite perplexed who to use this on. So you saved it for later.

Well later came.

Jean

You were preparing tea for your boss Jean when you got curious. She’d bene eyeing you for some time now so you wanted some answers. The potion came up again as you contemplated it. There was no way you could but… ohh… could anyone blame you. Yearning for someone is truly frightening. You yearn for her touch, to sit on her lap, to be her wife.. oh you just want to know.. maybe just a drop. Just a little? Half a drop maybe?

You caved. Who could blame you. You were horrible with signs and you needed to know. You didn’t put much. A single drop. Nothing more. You watched her lift it before the guilt overtook you.

“Wait! I just realized I didn’t use the right tea bags! I’m so sorry.” You said. She put the cup down looking at you concerned.

“Its no problem. I can drink this one. I’m not that picky.” She chuckled. You however still sweated.

“B-but I really insist I must get it right before you have it!”

“Is it poisonous?” She asked confused and skeptical.

“Of course not. I just.. this cup was… i- i um… its a really experimental tea I bought and I don’t know if you would like it.” You said nervously. You looked like a vein would burst at any second from your stress.

“Please relax, you look way too stressed over this. I’ll have a sip and tell you my thoughts.” She took a sip before you could interject. She put the cup down as she swallowed it. A smile graced her lips. “This is great actually. It has such a lovely taste.”

You felt relieved.

“Do tell me the flavor, this is excellent stuff I’d like to buy some myself.” She said.

“O-oh I’ll go check!” You said nervously.

With that you left as you clutched your heart. It seemed she was fine. Did… that mean it didn’t work? Or did she not love you? Oh well. What matters is that she’s fine and you got your closure without risking your job. You decided to try and come up with some exotic and outrageous flavor to tell her as you killed time in the library.

Meanwhile for Jean she felt herself growing restless. Her hands tingling as she slammed her fist on the table. “Where is she! Where is she!” She felt so fustrated. Her heart raced. Her mind blanked as it was filled with thoughts of you. She needed you this instant. She sat up from her desk as she vowed to find you herself.

Coming into the Library she found you dusting the shelves.

“O-oh Jean I’m sorry I got carried a-woat?!” You gasped as she suddenly lifted you into her arms and carried you off. “M-m-m”

“Don’t speak. I just… want to hold you right now.” She said, her voice as so stern, it was nothing like the woman you were talking to a hour ago. Her face on your neck taking a deep sniff making you surprised. “You’re so soft.. were you always this compliant? You didn’t even resist when I picked you up, you just went along with it.” She chuckled, her laugh holding a slight sinister feeling to it.

“G-grand master?” You squeaked. She seemed elated.

“Just call me Jean.” She said carrying you off to her office. You couldn’t help but wonder if even one drop was too much. But at least you got your answers… for her sake you hope its not permanent

Diluc

Maybe you were in over your head. You made muffins for the household and offered him one, you made sure it was his favorite, blueberry cinnamon. He thanked you and ate the whole thing. He even ate most of the muffins. They were gone before midday. But you knew it wouldn’t harm anyone who ate it. You had been hassled by Adelinde for the recipe when Milly came rushing to you.

“Ma-master Diluc requests your presence immediately.” Milly said urgently. You were a bit puzzled by her reaction. But you obliged heading to his office. You barely got the door open before you were suddenly pulled into a tight embrace.

“You… what did you do to me?” He growled. You tried to squirm as you panicked slightly.

“H-huh? W-whats going on? I- oh!” You were suddenly lifted as you pinned you to the wall.

“Those muffins… you.. you were already so tempting and now I can’t get you out of my mind. So what was it? A aphrodisiac?”

“I-it shouldnt be having those effects. I only did one drop… i just… wanted to see if you felt the same way.” You fessed up quickly. You were very conflicted, on one hand this was very scary, but also kind of hot. Being pinned against the wall, your crush pinning you and desperately pressing himself into you. Oh it was a battle between your sense and your heart.

“I knew it. You could’ve just asked you know? You have no excuse now.” His voice was so growly. Your body tingled as he spoke directly into your ear. “You’re going to take responsibility here. You are going to mine. I’ll make sure of that.”

Dehya

You had the biggest crush on Dehya. You hired her for a expedition you went on with your students but you ended up head over heel in love with her. Now that it was over you tried to find any excuse to spend time with or hang out with her. You wondered if sometimes she got annoyed or hated you because you worked for the Akademiya. But with that potion however you figured you would have a clear shot of figuring it out. Of course she wasnt a test dummy. You tested it on a lab rat who became quite cuddly with you. The rat survived with no damage done mentally or physically. So while you two were staying at inn together you slipped a drop in her cup.

“DEHYA!” You gasped as she just lifted you into the air, as if she were offering you to the sky, the. Lowering you to her chest. Then repeating that. You realized she was using you as s weight.

“Heh, you’re so light! It barely feels like I’m moving a muscle.” She smiles as you froze, not wanting to fall.

“Dehya please put me down this is so embarrassing!” You were quite worried about falling. You already had such a fragile back, you couldn’t worsen it even more.

“Why? You’re so cute like this. Heh, my little researcher is just so light.. makes me wonder how the wind never blew you away.” She teased. You weren’t even that skinny. She was just that strong. “I could keep you, just sling you over my shoulder and take you with me. Carry you around like a purse… a pretty purse. One I could fu-“

“DEHYA! Please put me down! Also are you drunk?” You were quite puzzled. None of your experiments yielded this. The mouse had simply become cuddly, your cat also became clingy for the day. Perhaps it was just the type of love. The mouse and your cat loved you as a caretaker so their love strengthened to make them more dependent on you than they were, her love must’ve been more than you thought.

“Heh.. I slipped out my flask for some firewater mixture I got. Wanted to see if you would have a sip or two.” That was concerning. You didn’t know she could be so devious. It was kind of exciting though… you had always wanted to try firewater.. getting drunk with her seemed like a great way to bond an- “stop thinking so much.” Dehya seemed angry as she swung you around once more.

“Please put me down! Dehya you’ll break something and that will be me!”

“Relax, I wouldn’t break something pretty like you.” She said, slinging you over her shoulder and tossing you onto the bed. You two had separate beds but you figured you wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. “So pretty, so pliable and soft. My little researcher..” she purred. You were struggling to maintain your composure or mentally write notes. Her body ontop of you. “Mine.. all~~~ mine. I won’t let anyone else take you. If they try I’ll cut their fucking hand off.”

“Dehya that’s a crime!” You were alarmed. You couldn’t let her do such things. “Let’s just get some rest. You clearly need it!” You attempted to roll away but she blocked you.

“Mm i’d get away with it.. there’s plenty of spaces to hide a body in sumeru.” She purred as if that wasn’t the most sinister words you’ve heard from her.

“Dehya! No! No murder no using me like a purse, and no-“

“Are you trying to leave me.” She growled.

“Dehya i can’t even get up right now.” You sighed.

“Good. I’m going to use you… like a pillow. We can do more fun stuff when I’m sober. Besides… I wanna do it under the stars. And also so anyone nearby can hear you calling my name~” she giggled. You weren’t actually too Against that. That actually sounded kind of hot to you.

“Please just lay down so you can sleep!” An Idea popped into your mind. “I’ll give you a kiss if you get ready for bed and promise not murder anyone!”

“Just one? Nonono I want more than just kisses her.”she said smugly. “What’s stopping me from taking some right now? You clearly don’t mind.” You sighed.

“I’ll… go on that starry night date of yours if you just comply here.”

“You mean the one where I’ll f*ck you?”

“Yes.”

“Deal.”

Neuvillette

Truth be told the potion wasn’t for him. You had a crush on someone else and when they asked for some water you dropped that in there.

You didn’t know it was for the Iudex of Fonatine. Not until you were dragged into his office and he curled himself around you in his more.. dragon like form. His tail was massive spanning what must be several feet, you couldn’t measure it though considering the way he curled himself, tail included, around you.

“Mine… mine..” he growled as you stood still and shaking. You liked the Iudex sure but you knew he was way out of your league. Apparently he wasn’t.

“S-sir… i- i have work…” you weren’t sure how to get out of this. His grip was tight. His bigger body wrapped around you as he sniffed you. You couldn’t get a inch away.

“Mine.” His growl was more deeper.

“Sir! I-i can’t.. ngh..” you gasped as he held you so tight you had difficulty breathing.

“Say it.” His voice was more stern than you had ever heard. The kind of tone he’d have when dealing with a unruly court.

“S-say what?” Your voice trembled. You wondered if he could kill you with this grip.

“Say that you’re mine.” His voice reverberated throughout your body, making your hairs stand on end. His grip only getting tighter as you became more alarmed.

“I-I’m yours… I’m yours!” You pleaded. To your relief he lessened his grip letting you breathe. However he started instead to.. bite you. You jolted feeling his bite at your neck, it was more like a nibble but it was still a alarming sensation. “S-sir! We’re in your office..” you wished you never used that potion at all. Maybe instead thrown it away. You might not get out of this in one piece.

“I don’t care.. I want you…” His tongue lapped at your sweat as if he was… bathing you? Do dragons clean themselves like cats? Maybe not but it was a jarring sensation. “You’re mine.. I’m not going to let anyone else have you.” He growled as his hands on your uniform pulled it open.

#genshin imagines #genshin x y/n #genshin impact #diluc x you #jean gunnhildr x reader #diluc x y/n #wlw #yandere neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #dehya x reader #yandere dehya #yandere diluc x reader #yandere jean x reader #dehya x you #yandere tendencies #dubcon #oh my god its not just diluc this time!#but it is nerdvillette so ig it doesn’t count that much #i promise I’ll do someone else i just only have thoughts for either of those two

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cameronspecial · 7 months ago

Text

Traitor

Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Drew and Y/N have different tastes in food and he is hoping that Sam will have the same taste as him.

Masterlist

Drew loves that Y/N can stay at home to take care of their three-year-old. She was a little hesitant when she suggested quitting her job to do so, but she wasn’t satisfied with her work and she needed some time to think about an alternate career choice. It turns out, that being at home with their son is where she finds fulfillment and Drew is so happy that his wife is finally happy with what she is doing. It allows her to cook more which she loves to do, especially since she is a picky and high-maintenance eater. Y/N can sometimes come off as a food snob because she sometimes has the standards of food that is homemade or expensive; however, it comes with the territory of being the daughter of a chef, who insists on practically making every meal for his family. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t let her family eat fast food or store-bought snacks; she is a victim of eating McDonald’s or goldfish in her car like everyone else. She simply prefers making her macaroni and cheese with gruyere, asiago and fontina cheese. Or she would rather eat a sausage with mashed potatoes than an American hot dog. If there is one thing that reminds Rafe of the different social classes that he and his wife grew up in, it would be the food she now cooks for him. While the meals she cooks are exquisite, he is so grateful she isn’t one of those parents who doesn’t allow the family to eat anything processed because that means he can introduce Sam to his favourite childhood snack.

Y/N has finally given Drew the go-ahead to let Sam try an uncrustable. He understands he had to wait so long to share this experience with his son because peanut butter is a choking hazard for children under four. He hopes his toddler will love them as much as he does. Drew tried to share his favourite snack with the love of his wife; however, she said they just tasted like a regular sandwich. It disappointed him a little. He even bought the Nutella version of an uncrustable because she hates peanut butter.

“Sammy, lunch,” Drew calls to his son, placing the plate with two sandwiches and vegetables onto the table. Rapid thudding approaches the dining room and the father points to the bathroom. The little boy sighs and turns to go wash his hands. After rewashing his hands while singing the alphabet, Sam jumps into the chair in excitement. His grin drops at the sight of the circular bread in front of him. He spots the same food on his dad’s plate and watches the older man eat it with a smile. Not sure what to make of the new food, the four-year-old hesitantly picks up the uncrustable and sniffs it. “What this?” he questions, holding the sandwich out to his dad. Drew takes another bite out of his food, “That, Sammy, is a peanut butter and jelly uncrustable. Try it. You’ll like it.” The boy looks uncertain, yet still does as his father advises. The smile doesn’t turn into a grin as he chews on the food. In fact, his mouth turns into disgust and he places his lunch onto the plate, pushing it toward Drew. “Yucky,” he complains, reaching to nibble on a carrot. The actor frowns, “Come on, you only had one bite. Why don’t you take another?” As Sam considers the question, his mother comes in with a brie, apple and turkey sandwich. This piques his interest and he makes a grabby motion towards the fancier food. Not one to deny her child lunch, she slides her plate over and both parents observe as he devours half of the sandwich.

Y/N can see a pout on her husband’s face and pulls him in so his head is against her chest. “He’s a little traitor,” Drew grumbles, picking up his son's unfinished snack to finish. She giggles, “I’m sorry, Baby. Maybe you can have this bonding experience with our next child.” He jerks away from her, staring her dead in the eyes to make sure he understands what she is hinting at.

“We are going to have another baby?”

“We are going to have another baby.”

He cheers at the confirmation and picks her up, spinning her around before they both get dizzy. “I can feel it. I’m going to be fighting this baby for the last uncrustable. I can feel it,” he predicts with his hand on her stomach. She brushes his hair off his forehead, “I bet they will and then you wouldn’t be surrounded by traitors.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

#dad!drew starkey #dad!drew #drew starkey imagine #drew #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fluff

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nerdee-blondee · 6 months ago

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I’m loving the theories that solas, after the two evanuris are freed, becomes a reluctant ally/ advisor for the veilguard (real “enemy of my enemy is my friend”)

I’m all the more curious as to what kind of a relationship solas would have with the VG, and mainly rook since they are us. From what I can assume, solas WOULD NOT want to make friends with any of us here and ESPECIALLY since we unintentionally messed up his ritual and let these gods in he probably would be real peeved at us 🫥

SO I’ve been reminded of one of the old teaser trailers for this game back however many years ago where solas says “they call me the dread wolf, what will they call you when this is over?”

NOOOOW?? I’ve been thinking, what if solas and rook CANNOT see eye to eye and rook just cannot trust solas and is so nit picky and questions everything he says cause RIGHTFULLY SO (hell even refuses to call him by his name, probably just calls him dread wolf) and in solas’ frustration, he responds “they call me the dread wolf, what will they call YOU when this is over?”

Basically implying what will the people of thedas call u when they find out YOU ARE THE REASON THESE ELVHEN GODS HAVE BEEN FREED?

Sorry I’m just really excited to see what kind of new relationship I can formulate with my favorite egg IM SO THIRSTY FOR THIS GAME

#dragon age the veilguard #dragon age veilguard #dragon age 4 #solas #rook dragon age

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awakentrashpanda · 11 months ago

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Smiling Critters incorrect quotes

Dogday: What is the code etomologists use for "I stepped on it, I'm so sorry, it was dark out and the specimen was very small?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "Impromptu dissection was performed under less-than-optimal lighting conditions."

Catnap: "Impromptu dissection" is an alarming phrase in any context and I thank you for it.

KickinChickin: What’s biologist for "the little f⭐️cker BIT me and I yote it into the undergrowth on reflex?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "The specimen was removed from the study pool due to abnormal interaction responses."

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hoppy Hopscotch: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.  KickinChickin: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Hoppy Hopscotch: Nothing in life is free.  Bobby Bearhug: Love is free.  Bubba Bubbaphant: Knowledge is free.  Craftycorn: Friendship is free.  Dogday: Self-respect is free.  KickinChickin: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.  The Squad: ...  PickyPiggy: Kickin, that's illegal-  Hoppy Hopscotch: No, let him finish!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Bubba Bubbaphant: Are you tall enough to play basketball though?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Are you calling me short?  Bubba Bubbaphant: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

KickinChickin: You have Crayons?  Craftycorn: Yes, I have—  KickinChickin: You're— how old are you?  Craftycorn (in tears): YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨

PickyPiggy: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase?  Catnap: I accidentally fell down.  Bubba Bubbaphant: CATNAP PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HIS part of our rent!  Dogday: Catnap bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money.  KickinChickin: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Dogday.

💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡

Dogday: I love you.  Catnap: How many people have you said that to?  Dogday: Everyone.  Catnap: What?  Dogday: I told everyone that I love you.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Craftycorn: Why does Picky always do the laundry so loudly?  Bobby Bearhug: So everyone knows that no one helps her out in the house.  PickyPiggy, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

PickyPiggy: So Hunny-bunny, how did your first time cooking dinner go?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Pretty good if I do say so myself.  PickyPiggy: Oo! Okay, what are we having?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.  PickyPiggy: A whole potato?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!  PickyPiggy: These just look like big slabs of black.  Hoppy Hopscotch: Because that's what they are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for desert, we have chocolate.  PickyPiggy: These are just chocolate chips?  Hoppy Hopscotch: They sure are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for drinks, we have toast!  Hoppy Hopscotch: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite!

🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻

KickinChickin: I have a plan.

PickyPiggy: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it.

KickinChickin: …

PickyPiggy: …

KickinChickin: I no longer have a plan.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

PickyPiggy: why can’t any of y’all ever come up with a plan that doesn’t involve breaking the law?

Bubba Bubbaphant (awkwardly looking over at KickinChickin and Hoppy Hopscotch): Picky…You do realize that three of us have been to prison before, right?

🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤

KickinChickin: Have I ever told you that I love you like the mom I never had?  PickyPiggy: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am!  KickinChickin: Mean.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Hoppy Hopscotch: I'm sorry. Please talk to me.  PickyPiggy:  Hoppy Hopscotch: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?  PickyPiggy: Hmf! 'Sorry' ain’t never gonna bring back my f🍎cking M&Ms.

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

Bubba Bubbaphant: What do we think of Dogday?  *pause*  Hoppy Hopscotch: *shrugs* Nice pal.  Bobby Bearhug: I think he’s gay.

🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘

KickinChickin: That was so hot, Bubba.  Bubba Bubbaphant: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.  KickinChickin: I'm so in love with you.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

KickinChickin: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere...  Catnap: Only as their rodeo clown.

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

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