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#[you cooked/endeavor]
soulfire-of-void · 1 year
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there is nothing more tragic than the lack of individual cooking item sprites in no man's sky. you can't tell me that Cream Buns and Esophageal Surprise look the same
at least some of the more interesting ones get a different sprite from the normal(ish) ones but like. please i desperately need to know what Haunted Chocolate Dreams, Cake of Burning Dread, and Unbound Monstrosity look like. because i think they'd look delicious and maybe even taste delicious if real
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the-acid-pear · 4 months
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I'm sooo frustrated with my dad atm. I'm exhausted in general as previously mentioned but my dad's refusal to solve anything which directly affects me because I depend on him. Like I'm fucking disabled that's the thing and the more I'll stay the same if I'm not given the tools and help and etc I need.
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kairologia · 1 month
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Your untapped talents according to your fifth house.
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In traditional astrology, being Venus’ joy, the fifth house is (among others) a signifier for natural talents, as well as hobbies you would enjoy most or thrive at.
Which are yours?
· Aries in the 5th house (Sagittarius rising): you possess a proficiency in competitive or energetic sports and activities, a natural ability to lead a team, an uncanny ability to face & overcome your fears, as well as high stamina & endurance. Steadfast in your beliefs and capable of debating in their favour anytime of the day.
· Taurus in the 5th house (Capricorn rising): you’re naturally talented in gardening & cultivating a beautiful, lush & luxuriant outdoor space, effortlessly skilled in arts like painting, sculpture, or pottery, and excellent at cultivating artistic talent in others (would make a great art professor).
· Gemini in the 5th house (Aquarius rising): you have unrivaled storytelling and writing skills, an innate versatility in performing arts such as acting or comedy, & skilled in employing incisive language to convey complex ideas or emotions. You may have a talent for photography, drawing, or manual/visual arts.
· Cancer in the 5th house (Pisces rising): you’re skilled in acting out intense scenes or writing emotionally charged stories, talented in interior design and making every new place you inhabit feel like home. Usually talented in cooking &/or baking. Great swimmers too.
· Leo in the 5th house (Aries rising): Leo fifth houses are highly creative in fashion-related endeavors such as designing clothing items or costumes, have natural flair for performing arts and a natural ability to captivate an audience or command attention. Great at improvising and coming up with stories on the fly.
· Virgo in the 5th house (Taurus rising): you’re talented in crafts like knitting or woodworking, editing or artistic critique, photography. You’re the go-to person for event organization & planning. Skilled at DIY crafting projects, scrapbooking, manual creations such as jewelry making or ceramic works. Great debators, too.
· Libra in the 5th house (Gemini rising): you have outstanding diplomatic skills & are capable of negotiating your way through just about any situation. You're skilled in creating harmonious compositions in visual arts or music. You would definitely enjoy ballroom dancing, painting, & decorating spaces. You also have a natural sense for aesthetics & beauty.
· Scorpio in the 5th house (Cancer risings): you would make a great taboo/erotica/crime fiction writer or visual artist. You're also talented in writing intense and charged scenes or lyrics, & are capable of evoking strong emotions through artistic expression. You would probably enjoy investigating mysteries & delving into occultism.
· Sagittarius in the 5th house (Leo rising): you’re amazing at inspiring others through creative expression, great at documenting experiences through photography or journaling whether in remote destinations or within your hometowns & making the mundane seem interesting. You’d make a great writer of philosophical or esoterical fiction or analysis.
· Capricorn in the 5th house (Virgo rising): usually great at forms of art that demand focus and discipline. you're the type of person that can master more than one classical instrument if you were to put your heart into it. You would enjoy collecting antiques as a hobby, & have potential to be an eloquent & articulate speaker & writer.
· Aquarius in the 5th house (Libra rising): terrific at advocating for social change & making unheard voices feel heard through artistic or creative expression, and creating experimental or avant-garde works. Potential great musicians. The type of person who can turn even the blandest looking items into something uniquely gorgeous.
· Pisces in the 5th house (Scorpio rising): you have an innate versatile talent at anything creative as you’re capable of creating immersive artistic experiences that can even cloud the senses. Potential talent for dancing, occult or spiritual pursuits and intuitive painting as well. Would definitely enjoy swimming & marine life exploration.
P.S : one configuration cannot describe your entire experience. you may not relate to certain points, as you have had life experiences that shaped you and an entire chart consisting of inextricable elements that need one another to make sense.
Click here for readings !
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peachedtvs · 2 months
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ALASTOR TENDING TO LICKING YOUR WOUNDS ft!Alastor
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✧ After an accidental paper cut, Alastor loses control momentarily and licks up your blood. 0.9wc
Imagine you and Alastor are staying up late one night, trying to decorate the hotel as a celebration for surviving the recent extermination.
All of this was your idea, Alastor simply tagging along as he was intrigued by how you were planning to decorate the hotel with mere ribbons and colored paper in a single night. The new renovations have expanded the hotel extensively, almost doubling its size—intriguing him on how your little passionate project could even be possible when done alone. If you were successful, Alastor could be content by the way Charlie's face would light up in the morning. If you failed, Alastor could soak up your disappointment! It was a win-win for him.
You furrowed your brows, hunched over a coffee table in the hotel reception, kneeling on the floor as Alastor sat reading not too far from you. You were focused on delicately carving the page before you, fingers delicately wrapped around a sharp paper-knife.
Outside, the rain was pouring. You never were a fan of thunderstorms, the booming sounds from outside snapping you out of your deep concentration every couple of minutes—some of the blaring clashes pairing with a bright flicker of light that made you flinch. Alastor found you amusing, being so passionate in something no one had asked you for, in something that would be unnecessary and also unnecessarily difficult for you to be done alone. The fact that you were pulling an all-nighter for this endeavor was even more entertaining, as you'd become all cranky once the next afternoon would come.
You let out a harsh sigh, your chest falling so far it seems as though you deflated. You regained your composure, holding your two hands close together as you pressed the page down into the table below—holding it in place as you carved a particularly intricate piece in the page when a shockingly loud crash thundered from outside. You flinched much too harshly this time, your wrist slipping and the paper-knife nicking the side of your index finger. You hiss, dropping the bloodied paper knife onto the table as it stained the pure white page below.
Alastor swore the air became heavier.
He didn't know what had so severely caught his instincts, but his wide eyes immediately darted to you before he could even process the situation—eyes locked onto the deep red trickling down your index. You hadn't even begun to notice him yet, hadn't noticed the way the air in the reception hall seemed to shift at the scent of your blood, how the light momentarily flickered.
You had such a sweet aroma.
An aroma that threatened Alastor's sanity.
Alastor's breath hitched sharply, snapping the book closed by the spine as he laid it as gently as he could upon the side table by his seat. Before he could even process it, your wrist was gripped into the palm of his hand—held firmly as you looked up to him.
The blood from your index trailed down the appendage, dipping down to the joint of your thumb as you looked up to him—startled by how quickly he had moved without you even noticing.
"Ala—"
"It would be wise to be more careful with that knife of yours, my Dear." He brought your wrist closer, his eyes locked on your hand. "Your clumsiness has put me in quite a difficult position." You looked at him intently, still sitting on the ground while Alastor was bent at the waist, holding your wrist up to meet his lips—when his tongue gently ran up the side of your palm before cleaning the blood smoothly. The moment he had your taste on his tongue, he felt his sanity slip away.
This wasn't like his usual respectful self, but he was unable to concentrate. Your flesh was euphoric. The kind he'd savor for weeks, the kind he wouldn't even need to cook or prepare beforehand. Fresh off the bone sort kind of sweet, a sickeningly addictive taste paired with a perfectly prominent metallic tang that had him wanting more.
Although, he was much too fond of you to rip you apart.
And so, Alastor vouched for slipping your finger into his mouth. His long tongue wrapped around the digit, a sting from his saliva sinking into the wound had you wince—your face looked beautiful in pain.
Alastor knew you trusted him, explaining why you hadn't pulled away. Instead, looking at him with a shocked and confused expression—ignoring your pain in his favor, just like the kind little soul you are.
Alastor pulled away, plucking a handkerchief from his pocket to clean your hand completely.
"My apologies, mon cher. I hope you didn't mind my little midnight snack." Alastor smiled to you, clearing his throat in an attempt to regain his lost composure. Although, he couldn't hide the lack of light in his eyes, and he couldn't suppress the wretched thoughts that clouded his head. He wanted to sink his teeth into your neck, to hear your pilant sounds of pain as he carved his bite into your flesh. He wouldn't tear into you, no. Simply mark you, border on the edge of savouring you in his mind completely and staying the gentleman he was raised to be.
In his own strange way, Alastor cared for you.
He wanted to wrap you into his embrace, overwhelm you as you'd tried to shrink away with nowhere to escape from him. He wanted to engrave your taste deep into his memory, to dig into your arms as he'd hold you scarily still.
For now, the only desire he could fulfill now laid upon his desk. A thin tendril of his shadows had swiped both the blood-soiled page and paper knife from the coffee table behind you and delivered it to his bedroom.
Alastor was no sentimental man, but he'd treasure a memory of your flesh to the grave.
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You're watching...
© Peached TVs 2024
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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miguel is (was) a father which means i am legally obliged to fantasize abt being his babysitter ! fem!reader
just being a college student, young, ambitious, trying to get by in the final stretch and needing just a little money from the outside to support you in the present, and future endeavors. it takes loads of searching around, and the job comes from a friend in the end. your friends mom to be exact, who swears that miguel o'hara is a nice man who looks stretched a little thin and the daycare that he frequents isn't what he needs.
you don't understand how a college student with minimal experience is any better, but he's interviewing you, asking you questions you barely stumble over, and suddenly you're the babysitter of gabriella o'hara, a sweet seven year old who just happens to have a smoking hot dad.
you try to keep things professional, and you succeed ... mostly. nothing but a few lingering glances and picking your best clothes and wearing enough makeup to look presentable. but in the end, it's him who crosses the thinly drawn line.
a night where he comes home from work earlier than expected, but he invites you to stay for dinner instead of going back to your place. your roommates are all out partying, and you aren't in the mood to be alone, so you're suddenly entertaining gabriella and helping her shower, then joining the small family at the table, trying to politely devour an amazing home cooked meal.
the night draws to a close, gabriella’s tucked into bed, first by yourself then by miguel, and you're standing at the top of the staircase, shoes in hand, purse in the other, a small smile on your lips.
"goodnight, mr. o'hara," you tell him, lifting a finger to wave best as you can as your sock-clad foot reaches out to find the first stair on the way down. but the floor creaks and you look up to see miguel approaching you until he's a half step away.
his large palms lift, they cup your cheeks, and his pink lips part as he speaks. "why don't you stay for a while longer?"
and the implications are there. they're practically written out for you. the breath is knocked from you, you take a large inhale through your nose to try and overcompensate, and just as you nod, miguel's lips are on yours. your sneakers and purse thud against the hardwood as you drop them in favor of holding onto miguel's waist, and you're incredibly thankful that gabriella is a heavy sleeper.
that night, miguel takes you into his room, the door closed and locked for the first time in a while, and you lay back on his bed, taking in the bedroom as best as you can with his head between your legs and quiet moans of his name slipping past your lips. in this most intimate moment, he treats you with the same respect that he has throughout your entire time working for him, just with an added bonus.
he still asks you if you're okay, but his praises have gone from telling you you're a great babysitter, to calling you a good girl, telling you that you're good for him. his polite touches on your shoulders in passing have turned to caressing your inner and outer thighs, or sliding up your stomach to cup your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers.
it's something you've dreamt of, and never anticipated to become true, but you're extremely thankful that it did, and as you come on his tongue, you hope that it doesn't end here, even if the ordeal is messy and a little wrong.
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twice-inamillion · 5 months
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The Company 
Personal Assistants
Smut (Defloration, girl on girl, virgin sex, deep penetration, rough sex, masturbating, creampie, double facial, slight humiliation )
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Chapter 1
2,800 Words 
(IU and Irene become your personal assistants for your new entertainment company. You can’t help but take them out for a spin before putting them to work. )
“How is the birthday boy doing?”
“I’m doing great. Happy that you gave me this opportunity to create my own company.”
“It’s the least I could do. You’ve been a great son and have put a lot of work into learning about the company. I just want to give you the chance to build your own.”
“Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate it. I won’t disappoint you. I’ll make sure that I make this new division of our legacy a great one.”
“That’s my boy.” Your dad looks at the closed door and says, “I have a present for you.” 
“You shouldn’t have.” 
“It’s going to help you in your endeavors, plus they will be a good distraction for you if you ever feel stressed.” Your dad opens the door, and in comes two beautiful women. “This is Lee Ji-Eun, stage name IU, and Bae Joo-hyun doesn’t have a stage name yet. They are going to be your personal assistants and be there for whatever you need. I have personally picked them for you.” 
The two women bow and introduce themselves to you. “Annyeonghaseyo, I’m Lee-Ji-eun, and I’m Bae Joo-hyun. We will be serving you from now on, so please treat us well.”
You can’t help but admire their beauty and silently thank your dad for giving you two beautiful assistants. IU then gives you a letter, “Your father told me to give you this letter once we get acquainted,” and hands you the letter. 
“Wish you the best. These two are part of your birthday gift. Their parents have some issues, and they volunteered to be your assistants if I help them a bit. They are instructed to follow every one of your commands. Ask them anything, and they will do it, like telling them to cook or massage you. Hell, you can even fuck them if you want to, and they won’t say no. Have fun, son, and enjoy.
P.S. Also, these two beautiful ladies are also virgins, so enjoy it even more.
From your father,
XXX”””
You look back at them, and you’re in disbelief but wonder if what your father said is true. You know there is only one way to find out, and that’s by testing it. 
With a commanding voice, you say, “Both of you strip.” 
They are both surprised by the sudden command and hesitate but remember the contract they signed. 
Both of them look at each other and slowly undo their buttoned-up blouses and then their skirt until they are both in underwear.
You can’t help but admire their pale white skin that blends with their white bra and panties. “I don’t think you heard me right, I said strip. Strip completely!”
They tremble from your voice and quickly undo their bra, then underwear. They use their hands to cover their small breast and private area. “We stripped as you ordered, sir.” 
They avoid your gaze and look down at the floor. “Both of you have beautiful bodies and cream-white skin.” You walk towards them and slowly caress their skin. IU, looking like the more submissive one, gets your attention first. You place your hand on her small button, her waist, and remove her hands from her breast to make it easier to cup. Just like you predicted, she doesn’t resist and allows you to move her body as you wish. 
On the other hand, Bae Joo-hyun shivers at the slightest touch of your hand on her body. IU pulls you to the side and whispers to you, “Sir, hmm… Bae Joo-hyun hates men. Don’t think she likes being near them. Your father told me to tell you this: “Make Bae Joo-hyun submit to you.” Personally, I won’t resist since you are our new master, but you might need to be a bit forceful with her. Obviously, we know our role here, and of course, we wouldn’t dare to go against you, but you can always give us a command, and we’ll follow it to the letter.” 
You look back at Bae Joo-hyun and at IU, thinking about the complete personalities they both have. You debate if you should ask her to remove her hands from her breast and private area or command her to do it.
After thinking it over, you say, “Calling you by your given name seems too much. I’m going to give you a stage name. Is that okay?”
Bae Joo-hyun finally looks up at you and says, “Yes sir, that’s okay.” 
“You’re going to be Irene from now on.”
“Thank you for the name, sir.” 
“Also, remove your hands; I want to see all of you.”
She looks both angry and afraid and slowly removes her hand from her breast. IU looks at Irene’s unwillingness to remove her hand from her lower area, moves close to her, and grabs her hand, interlocking it with hers for support.
With both women completely exposed, you can’t help but sit on the single couch and admire their bodies. 
“I want you both to kiss each other on the bed over there.”
IU grabs Irene’s hand and walks her to your bedroom. She sits on the bed, slowly grabs her face, and kisses her. Irene closed her eyes and reciprocated, enjoying the kissing session. 
Minutes pass, and you can’t help but enjoy the show. Wanting to see more, you say, “Since you two are enjoying kissing so much, masturbate together.”
Irene is shocked by the sudden request by IU; on the other hand, she wants to please her new master and get on his good side. 
“Yes, as you wish.” 
She pushes Irene down and starts to suck on her tits while playing with Irene’s leaking cunt. She uses her fingers to rub Irene’s soaked folds, causing Irene to moan loudly. It’s her first time having her cunt touched by someone else, and IU’s soft and thin fingers turn her on. 
You watch as the two of them have a good time as they moan in sync. You pull out your cock and begin to stroke it. As Irene drowns in pleasure as IU moves down to eat out Irene. You can’t help but get a bit jealous and decide to do something crazy.
You stand and walk towards the bed at full length and see IU with her ass sticking up. “Fuck you have a really nice pussy” as you trace IU’s folds. IU’s pussy twitches from your touch but doesn’t react and just continues to eat out Irene.
“It’s so nice and small. Let’s see if it’s true,” as you use both of your fingers to split open IU’s cunt. Immediately, you see IU’s juices ooze out and stain the bedsheets. “Damn, you’re this wet already? And look here, it’s true,” as you see her hymen intact. Captivated by the thin layer of flesh, you insert your finger and caress it. IU yelps from your cold touch, making her move her hips. 
Based on her reaction, you see this as a green light, “Fuck it, he said your mine to use, so let’s put you to work.”
Irene opens her eyes and sees you behind IU and panics, “Ji-eun, behind you!” She sees your smirk and watches as you lick your lips. “Please don’t!”
You grab your cock and align to IU’s small entrance. Your cock presses the head of your cock against her thin folds and slowly inserts yourself. IU cries from the sense of her lips being split wide open. Her body crashed onto Irene as she was overwhelmed by the new sensation. 
Little by little, you insert more of your cock until you reach the thin barrier that’s separating you from reaching her womanhood. “Here I go. Take all of my cock” as you press on forward. The both of you can feel the exact moment you take IU’s virginity. She grunts out in pain and digs her nails deep into Irene’s arms. 
Irene feels the weight of both you and IU on her body. Many things rush through her mind, like why is he fucking IU, and is she going to be next? She was originally okay with being his personal assistant and knew that sex was going to happen eventually but not this fast. 
“Fuck, you have a really tight pussy. I don’t think I can wait!” You give her little to no adjustment and thrust the rest of your cock. 
“Ahh… it hurts!! You’re too big! Pull it out! IU’s small body frame doesn’t seem to be able to handle the size of your massive cock, but to you, that doesn’t matter. All that matters in your mind is enjoying her body and nothing else. 
You start off with small thrusts and increase the pace little by little. Your balls slap against her small frame. “I’m going to make sure I have fun with you both. So don’t worry, Irene, you’ll also enjoy some of this.”
After some time, IU’s walls clench on your cock, signaling her orgasm. You pull most of your length, only leaving the tip of your cock, and immediately shove it with such force that makes IU cough. “Fuck!! I’m going to cum!! You feel her orgasm as your cock is coated in her juices.
Instead of letting her relax through her orgasm you increase the thrust of your cock. IU, at this point, is a mess from her orgasm a few seconds ago. “I can’t believe your pussy is this tight. I’m going to make sure we enjoy this,” as you look at Irene. 
“Wai…wait…don’t go so fast, you’re rearranging my insides!”
“Don’t worry about that. Worry about pleasuring my cock instead.”
As you continue your thrusting, IU begins to lose consciousness. Her mouth oozes drool while her eyes are rolled back. Irene can only watch as she sees IU getting destroyed by your cock. The only thing going through her mind is if you’re going to be satisfied with just IU or if you’re going for her next. 
“Fuck…I’m going to cum!” You give her one last thrust and release a large wave of cum. Her cunts immediately milks your cock, filling her womb. You feel your core completely hot as you finish your own orgasm. 
“Fuck… that felt really good. I think I can go another round,” as you pull out your cock from IU’s freshly deflowered cunt. The only sound you hear is a loud pop, followed by a mixture of cum and IU’s nectar staining the bedroom sheets. 
You walk to the bathroom to get yourself clean, and when you return, you see Irene trying to wake up IU. “Wake up, please,” as she taps her cheeks. Wanting to tease Irene, you say, “Alright, ready for round two?” 
Those were the words she didn’t want to hear; she knew after seeing IU getting fucked by your massive cock she might end up the same way. You walk towards the bed, move IU’s unconscious body to the side, and grab Irene’s hand. “Come over here, and let's have some fun.” She knows she can’t reject any of your commands without facing the consequences. So without a complaint, she follows you towards your couch and sits on the empty seat. 
“Sorry for what you just saw, but I really couldn’t help it; her cunt looked so inviting that I couldn’t resist. But don’t worry, I’m not going to force myself on you. You’re going to be the one to decide when you give your first to me, but don’t take too long because I’m not too fond of people who make me wait. Do you understand?” 
Irene nods her head, “Yes, I understand, sir.”
“Okay, sounds good. Now that we have an understanding, how about we have some fun.”
Confused, Irene asks, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I want you to suck my cock” whipping your flaccid cock in hand. 
“You want me to su…suck it?”
“Yeah, you think I’m going to leave you without a taste? I’m not that mean, I treat everyone fairly. IU got a little extra, but that’s on me. I want us to get to know each other better, so I’m only going to say this once, suck my cock.” 
With a smile on your face, she looks at your cock and reaches for it. You can see her hands slightly trembling as she holds it in her hand. “Don’t be shy; it's not going to bite. Just hold it nicely, give it a few strokes, and put it in your mouth.”
With her right hand, she gives you a slow pump, waking up your member once more. Little by little it slowly wakes up, “Focus on the head, pull the skin down.” Irene does as she’s told and pulls your foreskin back, revealing your mushroom tip. “Come on, lick it.” She slowly moves her head, sticks her tongue out, and likes the tip of your cock. It twitches, which catches her off guard. 
Irene tilts her head up, looks at you, and looks back down. She knows there is no way out and accepts her fate as our personal plaything. She hesitantly opens her mouth and slowly takes in the tip of your cock. 
“Good girl, take it nice and slow. There is no rush.” 
She takes your cock a small amount at a time until it's a fourth way inside. You place your hand on the back of her head and say, “Alright, just relax your mouth and don’t close it, okay?” She nods, and you bob her head slowly. With her head going up and down, she can feel it getting bigger, enough for it to reach her throat. This causes her to gag and place her hands on your legs to push you away. 
“You’ve never sucked at cock, huh.” Irene looks at you and nods her head from side to side. “I guess it can’t be helped. Just lick it instead” and pull your cock back out. 
So for the next few minutes, all she does is lick your cock from top to bottom as well as your balls. You can't help but feel disappointed, but instead of focusing on the bad side, you think to yourself, “I can train her to my preference.”
Suddenly, from the side of your eye, you see IU lift herself back up and turn her head next to you. Her face is a complete mess, her mascara is ruined, and her hair is undone. She makes her way down the bed and tries to walk but stumbles. Her legs are completely numb, and the more she walks, the more cum runs down her thighs. But like the good little girl she is, she makes her way to the couch, gets on her knees, and gives you a look of lust. 
“Seems like someone knows her place. You’re going to be responsible for teaching Irene a thing or two, okay.” IU nods her head and sticks her tongue out. You stand up and stroke your cock in front of IU at a medium pace. She patiently waits for her treat and focuses on your cock. 
“Fuck, I’m about to come soon.”
Irene looks at IU on her knees, her tongue out, and does the same. She gets on her knees next to IU and sticks her tongue out as well.
“Ohh… you’re getting the hang of it, that’s good.”
You feel the cum in your balls making its way up to your cock, and you spray both their faces white. Irene closes her eyes, but IU, on the other hand, stays still and enjoys her treat. 
“You both look good in white; now, how about you kiss and swap that cum you both caught in that pretty mouth.” 
Like good girls, they don’t wait and have a kissing session as you video record it on your phone to enjoy.
——————- 
A year since that day, and both of them have been a great help in setting up your company. They look through a list of possible candidates for the company and circle the ones they think have potential as trainees.
“What do you think about these five girls right here, Irene?” 
“They look good; one is a really good dancer, and the other one can sing.”
“What about our list?”
“It’s going well. I can’t help but want all of them to join, but the boss wants talent. So for sure, I want these right here,” as IU shows Irene her picks. 
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bloodsuckingfiends · 23 days
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Take Care of You
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Summary: Tav's selflessness does not go unnoticed by Astarion, but so doesn't the way her selflessness is at the expense of her own well-being. He decides to take it into his own hands to take care of her... in more ways than one.
Pairing: Astarion x fem! Tav (reader)
Warnings: Tav overworks herself and neglects her own needs/selfcare, smut, fingering (Tav is AFAB), feminine pet names used, praise kink, I think that's it!
Word Count: 1.3k+
A/N: I have brainworms again and need to get this out sooooo enjoy?
Oftentimes, Astarion found that Tav tended to the needs of others, but very rarely to any needs of her own. He had witnessed Tav spend the last 3 days taking care of everyone, including himself in various ways that had her now looking, and surely feeling, absolutely exhausted. As he stood outside his tent, eyes scanning the camp setup before him, his gaze zeroed in on his Tav who was currently starting the fire, and helping to set up Gale’s various cooking tools and ingredients. A soft smile tugged at his lips just at the mere sight of her, before turning to a frown. As it was, Gale was away from camp, surely bathing off the day’s blood and grime along with their other companions, as Tav readied everything for their return. Her hair was crusted with blood, as was her armor, and her cheeks were streaked with dirt. Her eyes ringed with purple, tell tale signs of her exhaustion.
With a sigh, Astarion makes his way across camp, coming to stand beside Tav,
“Darling, I must say, you do look absolutely ravishing in red, but don’t you think it’s a good idea to get cleaned up?” She looks up at him with doe eyes, hands not stilling in their endeavor to help.
“Oh I don’t mind waiting. The others won’t be long, and besides, I just want to help set up for Gale. He’s always so kind as to make dinner for everyone, so this is me paying him back.”
Astarion manages to internalize his eye roll, and hold his tongue from pointing out that Tav has saved the wizard plenty of times in battle to make up for the meager stew that’s served nearly daily.
He places a hand on her shoulder, before pulling back and dusting the dried blood off his hand, “I just worry that you haven’t been taking care of yourself, is all.” a clear of his throat does well to cover the awkwardness he feels at saying such a vulnerable thing to her. 
“I’m alright Star, no need to worry.” She gives him a glance and a little smile.
“I don’t mean to be blunt darling, but you look positively dreadful and like you could use a nap. Please, let me take care of you.” Astarion huffs, frustrated at her stubbornness. Tav straightens up and turns, her eyes meeting his almost pleading ones, “Okay, I’ll let you take care of me.” Her voice comes out a quiet murmur. There was no denying him when he gave her that look.
The others arrive back to camp not long after Astarion gathers fresh clothes, a comb, and toiletries for Tav. He leads her to a secluded spot along the shore of a small lake they are camped by, before unbuckling and removing her heavy armor and underclothes, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead as he does so. He strips himself of his own clothes, regardless of having bathed earlier that evening, taking Tav’s hand in his own and bringing her to the water. Astarion gets to work, lathering the soap between his hands, and gently scrubbing the filth from Tav’s body and face, a shiver running through her at his touch. He has her fully dip underwater, then begins to work the soap through the blood drenched strands of her hair, massaging at her scalp with his fingertips. Tav lets a moan slip past her lips.
“Does that feel good darling?” Astarion chuckles as he brings the soap down to the ends of her hair.
She mumbles an affirmative, her eyes flutter shut. 
“Alright, there we go. Just rinse this out for me, will you, love?” 
Tav dips back below the surface, thoroughly rinsing out her locks. When she resurfaces, Astarion can’t help but bite his lip at the sight. The water rolling down her neck, over her breasts as she pushes her hair away from her face. She looks like a painting, he thinks. 
The two dry off, and Tav dresses in the clothes that Astarion had brought along for her; a pair of loose trousers, and one of his ruffled night shirts she so loved to steal. Once in Astarion’s tent, the vampire sits, patting the space between his legs and motioning for Tav to take a seat. She obeys, and sits while he starts to comb her hair.
“How are you feeling, my dear?” he hums, fingers beginning to plait her hair.
“I’m okay. I guess I didn’t realize how tired I am.” Tav yawns, her hands mindlessly playing with a loose thread on his trousers.
“Tav, you really must take care of yourself. You put everyone, including myself, before you. It’s really no wonder you’re so exhausted.” he ties off the braid with a piece of leather. His arms come around to wrap over Tav’s chest, holding her against his own and pressing a kiss to the side of her neck.
“I just want to help everyone, and I guess I lose myself in the process.” a chill runs through her at the feel of his lips on her sensitive skin. 
“Darling, do you think you could try to lose yourself in me, just for a moment, hm?” his tongue flicks against the edge of  her jaw. 
She gasps in a breath, and stutters, “ye-yes, I think I could do that.” 
“Let me take care of you.” One hand whispers across her chest, lightly cupping one breast in it’s hold, before trailing down her stomach, and dancing along the waist of her trousers, “Let’’s take these off.”
Tav shimmies her pants over her hips and down her legs, toeing them off to the side. Astarion runs his hands down her naked thighs, hooking beneath them to lift them and rest them over the tops of his, successfully spreading her open for him. Her breath catches in her chest, the cool air hitting her already sensitive cunt.
“My my, look at you. You’re already positively dripping.” He dips his fingers below and runs his middle finger through her wet, swollen slit, opposite hand running up her ribcage, grasping at her breasts and teasing at her nipples. He toys at her entrance, teasing the tips of his fingers in  her before pushing slowly inside. Tav moans, her chest heaving slightly at the intrusion. 
“That’s it, such a good girl taking my fingers like this.” Astarion coos in her ear, nose pressed to her cheek. He begins to pump his digits in and out, crooking them just enough to rub at that spot that makes her mewl. 
“Just feel how good I’m making you feel, my love.” The pace of his fingers picks up, and his other hand pinches at one of her nipples. 
“St-Star, I’m close.” her head falls back against his shoulder, throat exposed for his mouth’s taking. Thighs shake against his as she nears her end. He sucks and licks at the flesh of her throat, fingers continuing their pace. The hand playing with her breasts, makes its way down to circle her swollen clit. Tav whines at the contact, hands grip at his forearms, grounding her to the moment. 
“That’s it, pet. Come for me. Come around my fingers, I want to feel it.” 
Her cunt spasms around him, thighs quaking and hips lifting to meet his movements. Moans fly past her lips, as she rides out her orgasm. Astarion slows his fingers as she comes down from her high, “Shh shh shh, there we go.” Tav looks back at him, a blissed out, glassy look to her eyes. “There you are, darling. How did that feel?” 
She tries to regulate her breathing, “So good.” she manages to reply.
He grabs a cloth, and cleans her up, then slips back on her underclothes and trousers. 
“Come here, my love.” He scoops her up and lays her down, her head upon his chest, as he pulls the bedroll and blankets around the two of them. 
“Thank you Star, for taking care of me.” Tav mumbles as she drifts off and gets the much needed rest that she deserves.
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guacamoleroll · 2 months
Text
ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚
featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.
author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
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synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.
but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.
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𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.
But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.
You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.
His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"
You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.
"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."
Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.
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𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.
Wait. He can't dream.
He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.
"Babe."
"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"
His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.
You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."
He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.
So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."
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𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.
With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.
The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.
"Eat."
He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.
So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.
"Delicious, as always, моя милая."
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𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.
"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.
"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!
"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.
Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"
He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."
"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."
He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.
For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.
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𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.
"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.
"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.
You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.
"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"
You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.
You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.
"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.
"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."
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моя милая = my dear коля = kolya
ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners
© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴀᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2024 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ
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adore-laur · 24 days
Text
DAD HARRY BLURB
— i wrote this in less than two days, so sorry if it’s incohesive
——
With chopsticks delicately perched between his fingertips, Harry distractedly picked at the steaming bowl of spicy chow mein noodles in his hand. The bright glow of the TV screen was the only illumination in the living room, and his tired eyes were glued to some documentary about snow monkeys. Beyond the curtains was a pitch-black sky. The ocean waves outside were calm. A steady noise came from the humidifier. The ambiance was ideal for a good night's sleep, but your hyperactive mind made it a futile endeavor.
In the dead of night, your cheek found a cozy home on Harry's shoulder—it was sturdy, warm, and the collector of your tears. He was the one you leaned on most in the last nine months, when exhaustion and discomfort pounded into your bones. To quell your frustration, he massaged your swollen feet with attentive precision, shaved your legs when you couldn't see anything below your baby bump, adjusted to your hormonal mood swings with empathy, and cooked your favorite meals when getting out of bed felt like a chore. Above all, he made you feel beautiful each time your body changed. And as those changes came quickly and ruthlessly, he let it be known that his attraction to you wasn't fading. Not in the slightest.
In fact, it seemingly grew tenfold the moment you had told Harry you were pregnant. You noticed his gaze lingering on your body more often, with an obsessive hunger darkening his irises. Throughout your pregnancy, he paid special attention to the widening shape of your hips, the heaviness of your breasts, and the blooming swell of your stomach. He had documented the overall progression by taking weekly side-view pictures of your bump. He also wrote down milestones in his journal, like when the baby first kicked and where he had been when he found out the gender.
The obsession went both ways. With your zany hormones, you were more attracted to Harry more than ever. It was borderline insane how often you wanted to jump his bones. He gained some sympathy weight and let his hair grow out. He embraced his stubble, which was a weakness of yours since you first started dating him. Most tempting was how seriously he prepared himself for fatherhood—building the crib with his bare hands, deep cleaning the house to show his appreciation, reading parenting books and asking you to quiz him on the content, and simply doting on you when you weren’t feeling like the best version of yourself. Needless to say, you were insatiable around him, and he gladly entertained your desires with an equal amount of fervency. The flame of romance was never snuffed out.
When the documentary ended, you rubbed your eyes and sighed. Anxiety about knowing the baby could come any minute had made you an insomniac, hence the midnight TV and leftovers session with your husband who was also itching for something to happen. You both were getting a head start on sleep deprivation at least; not that it was something to brag about.
At almost forty-one weeks pregnant, your baby girl was taking her sweet time. The obstetrician had said you would have to be induced if nothing progressed in two days. While holed up in the house, waiting for the first sign of labor, you and Harry had tried everything to try to kickstart the process—walking along the beach, eating spicy food like the chow mein Harry cooked tonight, and even desperate rounds of sex every morning since your due date passed. Nothing worked, causing frustration to build on both ends. The hospital bags were packed and waiting by the front door, and impatience gnawed away at your sanity every time you looked at them.
"Gotta pee," you said, sitting up with a groan. Your lower back ached, one of the many reasons why sleeping was so unachievable.
Harry offered you his hand without a second thought, giving you leverage to get off the couch. The motion left you winded as you slowly waddled to the bathroom just down the hall, blindly touching the walls before reaching the light switch. You flicked it on, your eyes squinting against the harsh ceiling light. In the mirror above the sink, you stared at your reflection. Harry's shirt he lent you when your clothes no longer fit was stretched awkwardly over your stomach. You forewent wearing pants around the house because you simply couldn't be bothered. Altogether, you looked as miserable as you felt. As much as you were terrified to give birth, you just wanted to get it over with so you didn't have to feel so on edge all the time.
After emptying your bladder, you washed your hands and then stretched your back by resting your forearms on the sink and bending forward. Through the achiness, you thought about Harry and how he had politely demanded the baby to come out yesterday, speaking to your bump in a hushed voice like it was a secret conversation between the two of them. Her response was several fluttery kicks to his palm, to which Harry then blew raspberries against the outline of her tiny foot—or maybe fist—to coax her out. It obviously didn't work, but it was fun to watch her move around so actively. It was like she was teasing you both, saying, Not yet, Mom and Dad. It's warm and cozy in here.
You smiled, feeling a rush of happiness at the memory. Harry was going to be such a wonderful first-time dad. He was devoted, patient, and playful in all the right moments. You had no doubt he would slip into the role perfectly. It was evident in the way he treated you, how he treated his mother, and even how he treated strangers on the street. He had so much love to give. Compassion coursed through his veins.
When you straightened your posture, a weird sensation occurred. You felt a peculiar pop, then a trickle of fluid down the insides of your thighs. You stood stock still, your fried brain working extra hard to process the situation, then looked at the floor, seeing a continuous drip of clear fluid pooling on the tiles. You knew what that meant, but you were paralyzed as glorious relief and sheer panic wrestled with your heartstrings. Had you manifested it? Or had time merely lapped you until you got dizzy? It was impossible to comprehend how the months had gone by at warp speed and also excruciatingly slow.
"Harry?" you called out apprehensively, resting your head against the wall.
A few seconds passed before he casually replied, "Yeah?"
You blew out a shaky exhale. "Come here, please."
Silence hung in the air until you heard the creak of the wood floors and the soft padding of his socked feet. You met him halfway in the dark hallway, standing awkwardly while holding your bump. The bathroom light spilled out like a spotlight shining down on you. Surely, he could see "it's time" written all over your face.
"Hi," you whispered, slightly embarrassed about the unusual state you were in. "Um... I'm pretty sure my water just broke."
Harry’s hands reached out like you were a timid animal and he was trying not to spook you. His eyes were wide as they roved over your body, unsure of how to proceed. He eventually stepped closer, then crouched to observe the fluid coating your bare legs.
"Yeah, I think it did," he said hoarsely, his voice quiet with awe. “Those noodles must have done the trick."
A hysteric, breathy laugh bubbled up your throat. "No, I think she's finally ready to meet us."
At those words, Harry's features transformed into barely restrained excitement, with deep dimples appearing beside his gorgeous smile. He cradled your bump and spoke against it, saying, "About time, baby girl. We've been going stir crazy out here."
A tear trailed down your cheek, the emotional reality hitting you with full force. This was it. This was the moment your life began to tilt toward a new purpose.
The pleasant thought was short-lived as a twinge of pain sparked in your lower abdomen. You grunted and pressed against the spot with your palm, a grimace tugging at your lips. Your belly tightened, causing you to grip Harry's shoulders for support.
"Oh, it's really happening," he said, standing and rubbing his forehead in shock. "Okay. All right. Should we..."
"Hospital," you mumbled, pinching your eyes shut.
"Right. Good thinking." Harry broke out of his trance and carefully guided you down the hall. He situated you on the couch before stressfully spinning in a circle, figuring out a plan of action. He hurried over to the two big duffel bags by the door and hefted them over his shoulders with ease. He then reached for the bowl where the car keys were, and you watched him open the front door while unlocking the car and pressing the button to open the garage door. After starting the engine and shoving the bags in the trunk, he came back inside.
"It hurts," you said weakly, groaning while hunched over. It was only going to get worse until the nurses gave you an epidural injection, which was also going to hurt. Hours, maybe even days of physical pain lay ahead, and the prospect made you want to weep.
"I know, sweetheart," Harry said. "Let's put your coat and shoes on, then we can leave."
"Hold on. Just... wait until this contraction passes."
He nodded and sat beside you. "What can I do?" he asked softly, his leg bouncing as he scanned your face.
There was no suppressing your brutal honesty when in the thick of dealing with pain. "Brush your teeth. Your breath smells—ow—like chow mein."
He blinked, then smiled like your complaint completely unaffected him. "Yes, ma'am."
While he obeyed your command, you got up and slid your sandals on. The contraction gradually subsided, but you still felt a heavy pressure near your pelvis. She was wasting no time announcing her arrival.
Harry returned with a sweatshirt and a pair of sneakers on. His hair was tied up, and despite his confident walk toward you, you knew he was nervous based on his fidgety hands and rosy cheeks.
"Let's go," you said, standing by the door.
Harry stared at you with an affectionate gleam in his eyes. "You don't have any pants on, my love."
You glanced down, raising your brows in realization. "Whoops."
He was already on his way to the bedroom, laughing and calling out behind him, "Shorts, leggings, or sweatpants?"
You struggled for an answer since none of those options would fit well enough, hence the going shamelessly pants-less at home during the past month. Eventually, you decided, "My beach skirt, please."
He quickly retrieved your long sarong wrap skirt that was made out of soft, breathable fabric. He helped you into it, adjusting the stretchy waistband over your bump. It looked ridiculous paired with Harry's casual T-shirt on your upper half, but you were comfortable, and that was what mattered most.
"Can I take a picture of you like this?" Harry asked.
You frowned. "Why?"
"Because you look beautifully disheveled right now, and I want to keep this memory forever."
With a scowl, you reluctantly agreed with a grumbled "Fine."
He took out his phone and captured a couple of candid pictures of you leaning against the wall with your hands cupped under your bump. You had no desire to smile or pose.
After shoving his phone back in his pocket, he exhaled and cupped your cheeks. "Ready to have this baby?"
You stared into his eyes, getting lost in their gentleness. "My body is screaming yes, but my mind says absolutely not."
Harry kissed you, a cool blast of mint gracing your lips. "I'm in your corner, okay? I'll be at your beck and call in that hospital room."
"Can you give birth for me?"
He chuckled, smoothing his thumbs under your eyes—you hadn't realized they were damp. "I would in a heartbeat if that were possible."
“You’ll regret saying that,” you replied dryly. “It’s not going to be a pretty sight.”
“We’ll see.” Another contraction ensued, a little more persistent than the last. Harry noticed and cautiously led you through the threshold. "Time to meet our girl,” he whispered, locking the door behind him.
Stepping into the November night, you inhaled the crisp air into your lungs, embracing the transcendent phase of life on the horizon.
——
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thisblogisaboutabook · 4 months
Text
The cycle of life
Azriel x Reader
Fae cycles suck, thank the mother for your attentive mate who is there to provide you with all of the smut and fluff you desire.
warnings: smut, language, self-esteem and body image struggles, anxiety, slight breeding kink
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She didn’t know when the self-loathing crept in - although it was always the first sign. The week had been busy, she’d poured herself into her work. Being a bookkeeper for such a wealthy court was… tiring to say the least. It was fulfilling work, especially when it came to the Court of Dreams. Balancing ledgers and creating budgets for various charitable endeavors was a duty she was proud to take part in. The High Lord and Lady’s efforts in keeping their court thriving was admirable. Most would find the work mundane, and she supposed it could be, but accounting always felt like a puzzle to her - using her brain to solve problems and contribute to the advancement of the Night Court was rewarding.
She wasn’t perfect though, despite that desperate desire within herself to be. She’d push, and push, and push herself completely overlooking all the good she did and absolutely berating herself internally when the occasional mistake occurred.
Azriel was her number one supporter. She’d always imagined him to be better suited for the likes of a fellow warrior such as Mor or a Valkyrie like Gwyn. Perhaps even someone soft and lovely like Elain, a glowing beacon to come home to. Y/N had told Azriel as much when he began pursuing her.
“Why me?” She’d wonder to herself as she assessed her figure in the mirror - overlooking the enticing feminine curves that all but screamed “squeeze me, grip me, take me”, the way her plush lips bowed into a perfectly kissable pout, how her radiant skin that nearly glowed rendered her ethereal. She only saw imperfections. Not to mention that she wasn’t graceful or stealthy, she couldn’t cook or keep plants alive to save her damned life, and she had a tendency to get stuck inside her mind.
Truthfully this week was more than busy, it was hard. She’d pushed herself to meet deadlines that she’d gotten behind on due to an influx in workload. She’d made a few mistakes that nobody had issue with - except herself. Nuala and Cerridwen were taking well-deserved time off, leaving the essential household tasks on the back burner. Between working endless hours, Azriel being gone on a mission, and a flare up of the anxiety that she’d put so much effort into working through over the years - she was exhausted.
Physically her muscles ached, stomach cramped, and her head pounded as the all-too-familiar symptoms of her impending semi-annual cycle took root. Her mind and spirit were utterly fatigued from the busy week, the flare up of anxiety, and the overall stress of life. She was desperate for Azriel to return from his mission soon.
It was around 9PM when she coerced herself into wrapping up work on Friday night, she spent three hours afterward tending to the house and catching up on neglected tasks from the week, too tired to even bathe as she crawled into bed - sleep claiming her immediately.
She awoke the next day to a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Hello beautiful.” Azriel whispered against her skin, pulling back to allow those intense hazel eyes a chance to examine her. Her eyelids fluttered and brows furrowed as she let out an exhausted groan, “baby…” a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth as she reached toward him in a needy manner that made his heart ache. He hated leaving her for missions though she always understood and supported him. He leaned down, wrapping his arms around her body, letting his warmth seep into her bones as she melted into his embrace.
Azriel noticed the flinch she made as the sun shone through the window into their room, quickly flaring his wings to block it from view until her eyes adjusted. “What’s wrong, love?” He whispered, though he already had an idea. The heat of his breath against her ear sent chills through her, prompting her to give a quick nip to his neck before kissing it.
Gods, she’d missed him.
“Nothing baby.” before he could call her on her lie she continued, “what time is it?”
“Well, you missed breakfast.” He smirked.
“Ugh… how did I sleep in so late?” She sat up, rubbing her tired eyes.
Azriel shrugged “Your body must have needed it.”
“Says you.” She scoffed. “You were off all week doing physically demanding work and busting your ass for this court… while I sat on mine balancing ledgers.”
“Y/N…” he spoke, his low voice barely more than a warning growl. “We’re not going to do that. You are allowed to feel tired, allowed to let your body rest. Your work is important.”
She sighed, knowing better than to press on. She knew to pick her battles and that this one was not one she would win.
“Fine.” Y/N shrugged, eyeing a paper bag on the bedside table. “What did you bring me? Please tell me it’s something with chocolate.”
Azriel’s lips curled up into a grin that she’d never tire of seeing, handing over the bag. “See for yourself, darling.”
———
Azriel knew from the moment he stepped into the quiet house that she’d need extra love and attention today. His loving, caring, selfless mate who typically rose early - he swore the sun rose on her accord and not the other way around - was still sound asleep in bed.
He immediately exited the house before she could sense his presence and stopped by her favorite bakery along the Sidra. Chocolate croissants were a necessity in times like these. She’d need a pain relieving tonic, epsom salts and soothing oils, and a bouquet of flowers couldn’t hurt either.
He went ahead and picked up ingredients for a few quick meals and a new book she’d mentioned recently as well.
He had to laugh at the irony. His mate often questioned her worthiness of him. HIM. She couldn’t see what he saw. A passionate, intelligent female who cared for her mate, her court, and family more than anything. Always putting her own needs last but the first to volunteer when help was needed. The cauldron truly found his equal - someone who gave and gave but it was never enough. Someone who couldn’t see her own worth, her pure heart, her devastating beauty - while the rest of the world marveled at it.
She’d been the catalyst in his own self-acceptance. He’d spent centuries believing he wasn’t enough, that he was unworthy of a mate, of his position, of the power he was born with - just to meet this intelligent, radiant being who could bring an entire room to a halt and assume they were only seeing flaws. Not the beauty that could make even kings fall to their knees if she’d only ask. When the bond snapped, he decided then and there that he would show her just how worthy she was. In the decade they’d been mated, she finally started to see her worth, how precious she was to him, to those she graced with her presence. But life is complicated and triggers are inevitable, especially when it came to the flare of hormones that accompanied an impending cycle.
—————
The chocolate croissants were a win if the drawn-out contented sigh Y/N let out upon finishing her third one was any indication. He’d shared details of his mission as she indulged in the pastries and she gave him a few details of her week - frowning as she went into detail about the “mistakes” she’d made.
They were common mistakes that anyone would make, truthfully, some weren’t even her fault, but he listened as she let it out. He’d learned over the years that sometimes she just needed to get it off her chest and not advice. Simply hearing each other out had become a key element in the foundation of their relationship - when thoughts became too much - they were always listening ears for each other.
Once she’d gotten it off her chest she changed the subject by asking, “What do you want to do today?”
Azriel had a lot to do - but his mate took priority this weekend. He gave her a wicked grin, “I want nothing more than to waste away in this bed with you all day.”
“But?” She replied.
“But nothing.” He flicked her nose. “I want to spend the day in bed with my mate - is there something wrong with that?”
Azriel could see the war in her mind. Debating whether she deserved to take a day off, or should tend to other tasks. Before she could object he leaned in, lips capturing hers in a deep, loving kiss. She immediately opened for him, his tongue lazily tangling with hers. “Fine” she murmured.
“That’s my girl.” He cooed before returning to claiming her mouth, the shell of her ears, her neck.
“Mmm” she purred into his kiss while he palmed at her breast through her silken cobalt night gown. Her swollen breasts immediately peaking beneath his touch.
“So responsive” his low voice growled into her neck, sending fire straight through her, igniting her core. “Is that beautiful pussy as ready for me as these are?” He asked, tweaking a nipple through her gown.
The responding moan told him more than enough as he hitched the hem of her nightgown up to her waist, exposing the dripping cunt practically begging for him underneath. His eyes rolled back at the intoxicating scent of arousal drifting up into his nose. “Holy shit, Y/N.” he groaned, clearly pleased with the sight.
He ran a finger through her slick core, adding a teasingly light amount of pressure to her clit but before he could insert a finger she moaned “No Az, I can’t wait. Please.”
“You don’t want my fingers?” He teased, slipping one inside of her. Mother, she was absolutely soaked.
“Az…Fuck. No. Please.” She pleaded. Reaching down to palm the hardened length beneath his sweatpants. “I need that inside of me. Now”
Typically he would reprimand her for being so demanding, robbing him of his playtime with her sweet, dripping sex. But the desperation in her voice left him desperate to oblige her.
“Since you asked nicely.” He replied, to which she frantically helped him out of his pants.
Before she could reconsider taking more fingers, he thrusted his length into her. Hard. Every thick, aching inch of him, stretching and filling her completely.
“Like that?” He asked as her moans filled the room.
“Yes. Yes, Az.”
“Fuck.” She cried out. “Just. Like. That.” Each word coming out individually timed to the thrusts of his cock.
There was no way he was going to last long at this pace, especially after being away for a week. “Not gonna last long like this. Fuck!” He ground out.
She grit her teeth as his thrusts became harder, more erratic. “Then fill me, Az. Need your cum.”
Slipping a hand between them, he pressed his thumb to her clit, moving it in that perfected motion he’d finessed over the years as he diligently studied her body, a scholar whose sole discipline laid in pleasuring his mate. Locking his eyes with her, he gently commanded “Cum with me baby.”
With that they both let go. Their releases filling the room like a song. A melody Azriel would never tire of, one he replayed in his mind somehow far too often, yet never enough during his time away.
Azriel stayed inside of her until their breaths settled, evening out into sync with eachother. He reveled in the warmth of her. His perfect mate - physically, emotionally, spiritually. He’d never take this for granted.
Finally he pulled out of her in one long sweep, she looked down to admire the still considerable length of him even when partially softened. Her stomach dropped to see blood mixed in with their combined releases.
“Az, oh, I’m so s-” She started but he cut her off.
“Baby. It’s just a little blood.”
She almost looked ashamed. “I know but- I’m embarrassed.”
“Embarrassed?” He puzzled. “It’s completely natural. Do you really think blood bothers me? Come on now beautiful, we’ve had sex during your cycle before. Why shy away now?”
“I just didn’t expect the bleeding to have started already. It explains why I’ve felt so lethargic, I suppose.”
Azriel went to get a warm cloth from the adjoined washroom, returning to wipe her. Her cheeks flushed at the intimate action.
“Stop overthinking it. Besides, we’re mates.” He smiled, a soft look overtaking his eyes. “If you still want to have children with me someday, your cycle is kind of an essential step of the process.”
Y/N flushed at the comment. The thought of carrying his babies was something she’d dreamed about for years now. Thank the gods for her distant Illyrian ancestry and the genes that blessed her with curvy hips capable of birthing winged babes.
“You know, with my cycle returning… we could always start trying? If we stopped taking our tonics now - it should be out of our system in time for ovulation. Rhys has offered recently to let me bring on an assistant book keeper, which would be excellent timing.”
Azriel’s heart fluttered at the thought of it. His mate round and glowing as she carried their baby, a babe that would know so much more love than he ever had as a child. Something so pure and beautiful that could come from the love between he and his mate. They’d talked about it for years now, a dream of theirs. He had to quickly blink away the silver lining his eyes at the gift she was offering him, his selfless mate in all her infinite love. There was no way he could verbally reply in the moment without choking up so he sent waves of adoration, joy, and gratitude down the bond.
She sent every bit of love right back to him, propping up on her elbows to capture his lips in a promising kiss.
———-
After they came to a decision, Azriel carried Y/N to the bathing room where a hot bath full of the oils and epsom salts he’d picked up that morning were waiting. She nearly cried at the relief of the welcoming heat that greeted her.
Before she could object, Azriel quickly stepped out to change the sheets, promptly returning to slide into the bath tub behind her. He washed her hair, massaging her scalp to which she nearly purred like a cat. He carefully washed her entire body massaging her back, thighs, calves, shoulders, and breasts in the process. By the time he was done tending to her, she’d nearly fallen asleep.
Ever the caretaker, she tried to wash him in return but he insisted that this was about her - passing her a rolled up towel to place behind her neck while she relaxed, letting the oils from the bath soak into her skin as he lathered himself. He got out first, toweling himself off before lifting her out of the tub and drying her off with a heated towel.
Though she insisted she could do it herself, Azriel wasn’t having it. This was his day to care for his mate so he helped her into cloth lined linens and selfishly left her topless, slipping her underneath the fresh blankets.
He assured her he’d be right back slipping out to the kitchen to heat up her favorite gnocchi soup and fetch a tray he’d prepared with her pain relieving tonic, bouquet of flowers, and more chocolate.
It didn’t take much to bring his mate joy - the genuine gratitude she’d send down the bond at even the smallest gestures was never lost on him. Perhaps it was self-serving but he couldn’t resist surprising her, coveting each warm smile she’d give him as if he’d never feel warmth again.
He prayed their future babes had her smile, her eyes, any of her features, truly. But most of all, her heart - maybe then, beating within the most precious gift the mother could offer them, she’d finally see just how beautiful she really was.
————
He had to beg and plead like a mad male but finally she agreed to spend the entire weekend in bed with him. Who knew that he, the one who was typically the workaholic, would be the one to grovel at his mates feet begging her to take a break.
Fortunately, she was not immune to his charms and obliged him. At one point, she snuck out of bed in an attempt to accomplish a few tasks around the house before her cramps humbled her. Azriel was promptly startled awake from the nap he’d drifted off to as she loudly exclaimed from down the hall, “Fuck it. Back to bed.”
They spent the rest of the weekend making love, whispering of their dreams for the future, indulging in sweets, and reveling in each others touch with no shortage of laughter and kissing in between.
——————————
A/n: So I’ve totally been under the weather this weekend with no motivation to write but as I laid in bed with my own partner tending to me with whatever I needed, I couldn’t resist writing this. I intended it to be a Drabble but the words just kept flowing. I stan fluffy Az. Anyway, thanks for reading!
For those of you waiting on new parts to my current fics - I promise they’re coming along and will be out soon! xo ♥️
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ddarker-dreams · 3 months
Text
mini love report — scaramouche
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relationship health diagnosis — 50%*
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symptom one — deeply insecure
for all his bravado, scaramouche is acutely aware that he's unpleasant to be around. he'd ask if you hit your head recently after hearing your confession. initially, he regarded you with suspicion (and loathing, that's what this churning in his stomach has to be). his beauty has been praised for centuries. traditionally, when his admirers draw closer, they're put off by his brutal honesty. he subjected you to the same treatment. instead of running for the hills like you probably should've, you stuck around. he compared you to a 'cockroach infestation.' very charming.
beneath this veneer of vitriol, he's internally panicking. he's irritable when you're around and wretched when you aren't. his underlings don't know which is worse. he was at a loss when he realized you genuinely weren't bumbling back into his life for his appearance or status. seriously, what is wrong with you? it'd be easier to understand if you had some grand ambition in mind, using him as a means to an end. without this excuse to hide behind, he feels... vulnerable. uncomfortably so.
everything he gets attached to is taken from him. he's forgotten, abandoned, discarded when his worth is found lacking. you could find someone else. someone kind, open, and warm. someone who isn't him. it's terrifying, a thought that makes his skin writhe. especially since, should this premonition come to pass, even he doesn't know what havoc he'd wreak...
symptom two — clingy
once scaramouche likes you, you're his person. not even in a strictly possessive sense (although there's plenty of that), but you're essentially all he's got. he's around more often than he isn't. he insists that without him, your 'stupidity would do you in,' so he considers his hovering a 'necessary evil.' this is for your sake! strictly yours. not his, no, whatever gave you that idea? a bit presumptuous, don't you think?
his habit of acting as your second shadow relates to his aforementioned insecurity. whether he realizes it or not, he's always trying to prove his worth to you. tasks you mentioned dreading will find themselves completed, he'll drag you outdoors if you've been overworking yourself, and he silently sits freshly cooked meals beside you. he once cut vegetables into heart shapes, only to feel so embarrassed, that he diced them into a dusty substance.
symptom three — unconditionally supportive
so long as it doesn't take you away from him, he'll help you accomplish anything you want, good or bad. this is what could come to him most naturally. he loves the thought of you relying on him. it makes him feel wanted, like he's fulfilling a role no one else could in your life. it doesn't have to be material items either. if you're struggling with an issue and come to him for advice, he's noticeably pleased, like a cat that got the cream. you sought him out, you value his input.
he excels at putting together plans and breaking them into doable steps. next-level executive function. you might not want to consult him if you've gotten into a disagreement with a friend, but if you're struggling to know where to get started on a project or goal, he's got you covered. he'll wave off any of your doubt, flicking you on the forehead and grumbling that 'it's doable, just leave it to him.'
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primary area of concern
scaramouche views the world from a bitter lens. whereas some try to see the best in others, he sees the worst. this skepticism that's built up over centuries isn't going to disappear overnight. he'll make assumptions about your behavior that aren't necessarily true. he won't come outright and tell you his concerns either, the idea is foreign to him. it ends up falling on you to dispel his misconceptions, which can be an exhausting endeavor.
integrating him into your life proves to be a challenge as well. he can fake a sweet, friendly personality, but he'd only do that for interactions he sees value in. namely, leaving a good impression on your parents/any seniority figure whose approval is meaningful to you. he isn't trying to build a real connection, he just knows it'd be advantageous to win over those who you could you against him. he has no qualms about manipulating them either. he'd do this outside of your purview so you remain none the wiser.
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prognosis
it isn't a smooth road. there'll be times where his words cut deep and his involvement in your life feels suffocating. he isn't sure what he's doing and it shows. however, when he extinguishes the light in your eyes, he stills his traitorous tongue. the guilt gnaws at him incessantly. it's a self-fulfilling prophecy on his part — by fearing that he can't make you happy, he's more susceptible to doing just that. should you stick around, this loop isn't destined to repeat forever. his trust in you will build. it's a fragile thing, sown in soil unconducive to growth. be tender in your nourishment and the roots will coil themselves around you.
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*the universe has tried (and failed) to wrench you apart (0-20) your friends are praying that you'll break up (21-40) 'well it could/has be worse' bargaining mindset (41-60) a lil messiness as a treat (61-80) pure and wholesome (81-100)
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etheries1015 · 3 months
Note
In memory of the Apology Mug Story (and because I walked past a super old building recently; guess what it had on the facade)
Reader who knows how to carve rocks into specific forms and is very skilled in it makes Malleus a gargoyle for his birthday. He's so happy he ends up accidentally confessing his love to them.
Bonus points if that was Lilia's idea because he got tired of seeing them dance around each other and wanted things to happen already
This is really cute <3 for those who aren't certain what the apology mug story is; the link to that is Here!
A special birthday present for our favorite draconic prince <3
Being in Ramshackle with a limited amount of entertainment (being unable to afford many electronics) you had to resort to other forms of entertainment. Reading, cooking, sewing, board games, long walks outside, musical instruments, and your most recent of endeavors; rock carving. You had learned a few things here and there from Malleus, he was an avid crafter of gargoyles within his club and was more than happy to teach you a thing or two. Although most of your attempts seemed to fail in his eyes, you were actually secretly incredibly skilled at this. You were leaving your skills to set up a surprise present for the fae for his birthday; January 18th.
It wasn't hard to figure out what you were planning on doing for his birthday, Malleus was incredibly easy to read. Although money was scarce for you, using your skills to handmake something would be much more worth receiving than any amount of money could pay for. At least, that's what Malleus had said when you inquired what he would like at his celebration.
"A present is not necessary," He told you with a graceful smile, "Bring yourself, and your smile. That is enough for me." ...you were not going to take that as the final verdict, thus began your journey to create a gift he was surely going to enjoy.
His birthday came upon you, and your gift was finally completed. You did not hesitate to rush over to Diasomnia for the celebration, bringing over two things; A homemade ice cream cake, and your gift box. The cake was pretty much the start of Malleus's excitement, ice cream cakes exist?! It wasn't common in Twisted Wonderland much to your surprise, so sharing your handmade cake with his enjoyment of icecream implemented already sent him over the moon. The joy that was written all over his face was the easiest text to read, soon pouring out of his mouth in a theatric novel after unwrapping his second gift from you- two gargoyles. They were miniature and made for décor less than actual function, however, his excitement seemed to explode off the tip of his tongue.
His bright green eyes were sparkling, his mouth ajar, and a blush painted across his pale cheeks.
"It's us! See, one has your horns and the other-" Malleus immediately wrapped you into his embrace, much to the protest of Sebek nearby, yet the smiles of amusement of Silver and Lilia quickly hushed the student. It seemingly seemed the words held inside had burst at the seams, and Malleus had begun setting free the things he had been eager to share for some time now.
"I am in pure infatuation with you," Malleus blurted out, "I have not received a gift so heartfelt and beautiful," it almost sounded like he was holding back tears of happiness.
"Two gargoyles representing you and I, shall I take this as a declaration that you wish to be my pair?" He did not await your response, the tall fae was already shooting off at the mouth. "I reciprocate. Your beautiful craftmanship will forever be my treasure, next to you, of course." You could not hide the clear redness from your face, and the dumb smile that planted permanently at his sudden confession.
"it's about time!" Lilia laughed, "Now, let us celebrate not only our prince's birthday but also the union between these two lovebirds!" Malleus pulled away from the hug and smiled again at the gargoyles you intricately designed, turning to face his dormmates.
"Yes, let us resume the festivities. We shall celebrate all night long, this will be a birthday well worth remembering. Come now, my dearest." Setting down the Gargoyles in a safe place, he grabbed hold of your hand dragging you into the joyful celebration <3
Happy birthday, Malleus!!
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hanafubukki · 4 months
Note
*breaks your door with an axe in the shape of bat and peeks inside* hey.
So! I got hungry for soft Lilia and baby silver with a Yuu that accidentally space time traveled in the wrong direction for a couple of days.
And for a couple of days they help take care of a baby silver, with a moody malleus showing up from time to time in the span of the weekend Yuu stayed.
So cottage core family moments! From preparing Silvers milk/food to telling certain dragon to stop staring from outside with a threating look so Yuu doesn’t put anything sus in the food.
“Malleus, please, stop! If you want, you can come in and help with the cooking”
“Help? How bold of you human, asking the prince that so humbly allows you to exist in this land, to help you with a task reserved to who are my servants,”
“Shame, I was going to ask you to be my taste tester for the ice cream. Guess I can ask Lilia,”
“But I am kind and I will assist you in your cooking endeavors!”
Yuu’s food is too good to pass for MalMal, as Yuu knows exactly what to put that he likes whenever he comes over! Which is almost every day.
He may be a prince, but no one is mighty enough to not lick the cake batter from the bowl.
Hello Anonie 🌺🌻💚
With all of you breaking down my door, I think I’m going to be cold this rainy winter 🤣🤣
…do you think Diasomnia will let me stay with them? 😆💞 also, can I have that axe I want to use it on the senate 🤣 (at least you didn’t go “here’s Johnny!”)
You are speaking my love language because yes!! Time travel shenanigans my love!!
Malleus adores Silver. He would see you and remember the stories he heard about human and would be extra protective. Lilia says it’s fine. You have the blessing of the night fae on you. Fae can tell when people lie and you have spoken nothing but the truth.
Haven’t given them details of the future, but he can’t blame you for being precautious.
Even so, Malleus keeps his guard up until, well, you bribe him.
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You had seen all sides of Malleus Draconia from your time at NRC, that whole dream fiasco, and even beyond that.
But this side? The very protective and yet slightly rebellious side? Was new to you. You kind of enjoyed this more expressive Malleus.
You definitely enjoyed taking care of baby Silver. He was beyond precious and such a happy baby.
You can see why Lilia loves his sons so much. Both of them are adorable.
A part of you wanted to stay, wanted to enjoy this tranquility.
But no, you couldn’t.
You had so much waiting for you in the future.
These little ones will grow into fine men.
A lover who you adore with your whole heart.
You couldn’t wait until you returned to your time, so you can tease them.
“I see Malleus warmed up to you.”
“Not with any help from you.”
Lilia laughed, “I knew you could handle it.”
“Father’s intuition?”
“A bit of that and something else.”
With the way Lilia eyed the chain around your neck, you knew he had an idea.
The chain held your wedding ring.
Your husband always was a cheeky and smart one even during the NRC days, baring a certain event that is.
Smart bat dad.
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You opened your eyes to fluttering kisses all over your face.
“Welcome back, Precious.”
You pulled Lilia down into a kiss.
“I’m back.”
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☺️🌺🌻 Surprise! They are married and you were from a further future beyond nrc time.
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I'm almost done with part 3 of Blacksmith's Daughter.
But I have once more found myself weak against the headcanons and giggling uncontrollably at my own train of thought.
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So this time
What would happen if you found yourself with a bag o' weed?
Whatever here we feckinGOOO
Because I Got High
OPLA!Zoro, Sanji, Shanks, Mihawk, Buggy X Reader
Headcanons
NSFW because context and stuff
♫♬Creepin Up The Backstairs - The Fratellis♬♫
Don't just say yes to tease me, do your utmost to please me
I don't mean to be sleazy, being you can't be easy
Zoro
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"I mean, I've never tried it, but...."
Never done this before, usually have to have friends to introduce you to this sort of thing, and he was fairly lacking in the friend department until recently.
But basically, the hell with it, why not?
Just watching you roll it up in curiosity and borderline nervousness—
No, he's not nervous, shut up.
First hit and he's trying not to cough up a lung, shoving at you while you giggle about it.
Once it hits, he's in absolute awe of...well, basically everything.
Has never been so relaxed in his entire life what is this sorcery?
Falling back into his favorite hammock and pulling you down with him, just staring up at the ceiling in wonder.
Mentions after several minutes of silence that he can't feel his teeth and then just dissolves into hysterical laughter.
Cannot stop grinning, so comfortable and at ease with everything, kissing at your temple and your neck and pulling you closer against him.
Literally just wants to cuddle at this point, not anything more than that. Just lay there and hold you close, relax, breathe you in and enjoy the warmth and comfort of your body against his.
"....Fuck."
Sanji
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"Excuse me, you have what? Oh, this is going to be fun."
He's worked in a professional kitchen. This is not his first rodeo.
Also, hand over the ganja. You're not smoking it, you're cooking with it. Or in actuality, infusing it into butter and cooking with that, to ensure even distribution.
Again. Not his first rodeo. Whatever he does come up with, be it brownies or cookies or are those churros???, you know he knows what he's doing.
Just leaves plates of edibles laid out across the kitchen of the Merry, and no one knows but the two of you.
Luffy eats an entire plate of brownies and is practically in a coma fifteen minutes later, laying sprawled out on the deck and pointing at a cloud every so often to comment on what it looks like.
Nami and Usopp sitting in the corner, alternating between giggling and dying in laughter at the pitiful state of their captain.
Zoro decided he was going to wash dishes for some reason, but you're pretty sure he's been scrubbing the same plate for five minutes.
You and Sanji standing off in another corner, leaning over each other and cracking up at the chaos you have managed to wreak among the crew.
And it gives the two of you the perfect opportunity to slip off to bed, which you definitely don't waste.
As flirty and playful as he is on a normal basis is doubled right now, and whether you're giggling or moaning beneath him, he's absolutely thrilled with the outcome of this endeavor.
"Oh, so much fun...." 
Shanks
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"Oh, sweetheart, we are going to the moon."
Do you even have to ask?
The second you tell him you found a bag of the green in the contraband hold in the Marine ship you just sunk, he's grinning like an idiot.
Grabbing you, an officer or two, leaving someone else in charge for a while, and you're all smoking out the captain's cabin.
Thirty minutes later, amid the haze of smoke, Benn's sitting in the corner just staring at his hands in borderline terror. No thoughts, just oh dear gods hands.
Yasopp's doubled over the map table, laughing hysterically at something Shanks said five minutes ago.
Shanks has pulled you on top of him on his bed, arm curled around you, kissing you slowly, no worry at all of any other parties present.
But every so often, his head drops down to his pillows, and he spouts off some high-wisdom one-liner, and just stares off into space for a moment in wonder.
"If...if you drop a bar of soap on the floor...is the soap dirty, or is the floor clean?"
Mihawk
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"You have what? Why?"
Disapproving stare.
Well, he might have dabbled in his younger years (no it had nothing to do with Shanks quit asking), but not for quite some time.
It dampens his senses, it's not worth the trouble.
But...maybe it wouldn't hurt, just this once.
Ten minutes later, he's laid back across his bed, arm curled around you, completely at one with everything.
Just staring up at the ceiling, thinking.
Everything makes perfect sense, everything is one, and it's just delightful.
If you need advice about anything, now is the time to ask, because all the secrets of the universe are now his.
He has no idea how far gone he actually is and honestly it's pretty hilarious.
Glares at you when you point it out—before giving a snort-laugh and agreeing with you.
It's a rarity that you get to see him this relaxed and unbothered, so enjoy it while it lasts.
Definitely initiate a make-out session; he's going to take it very slow, and very thorough, savoring you even more than he usually would.
"Mmm, you taste divine, little one...."
Buggy
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"Are you serious? Oh, hell yes—"
Eyes light up like a kid at Christmas, you have what?!?!
Oh, he's down as a clown.
He literally said that line, and then grinned so hard that you almost don't want to shove him overboard for it.
He's more than prepared to make sure there are munchies available—mainly chocolate, since he has a serious sweet tooth.
Taking a toke and then kissing along your neck, making you giggle.
Unlike drinking, this is a private affair, just you and him. You're the only one who gets to see this side of him.
Making you giggle gives him life, so he's going to be murmuring stupid jokes in your ear in between trying to make you moan, and he'll settle for either.
"Ooh, yeah, that's it, baby—just give me what's mine."
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murdrdocs · 6 months
Text
INTERVIEW 013
with. finnick odair
includes. fem!reader, husband finnick, filming, kitchen sex, domesticity, oral (fem receiving)
→ kinktober masterlist
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It started out as the definition of domesticity. 
There was a package in the mail, sent from Katniss and Peeta, addressed to ‘The Odairs’ in Katniss’ handwriting. Seeing the joint name made you giddy, but reading the letter from your closest friends made you giddier. 
They’d congratulated you on your recent marriage, praised the ceremony once more, and had enclosed an old video camera for both of you to document your newlywed endeavors on. 
While you had cooking and home decorating selected as ideas for ‘newlywed endeavors’, Finnick had gone a different route. 
The camera sat in his hands as he kissed at your neck, his free hand teasing at your waist. 
“C’mon, sweetheart. It’ll be fun,” came his promise, spoken lowly and close to your ear in an attempt to get you to give in. You were closer to doing so than you would like to admit, just the thought almost enticing enough to make you put the knife down, slide the vegetables out of the way, and give Finnick what he wanted. 
Almost. 
You refused to give in without making Finnick plead just a little more. 
You hummed, fauxing disinterest as you brought the knife down in another audible slice against the wooden chopping board. 
Finnick continued. “We could look back on it. You could see what I see; How pretty my wife is.” The term made your heart flutter, still not used to being the wife of Finnick Odair.  His hand at your waist circled around to your front, pressing flat against your stomach and pulling you flush against him so you could feel the semi he was sporting beneath his joggers. 
You couldn’t help it anymore, your head lolling back to rest against Finnick, your skull connecting with the taut muscles all along his body. 
 “What d’you say?” You could hear the self satisfied smile in his words.
You end up on the counter top, any food you were prepping pushed all the way to the side to make room for you. Your legs spread, Finnick’s head between a pair of plushy thighs, your abdomen tensing and relaxing as you controlled your breathing. You caught it all on camera, the object pointed down at your husband who licks and sucks along your cunt like it’s his favorite pastime in the world. 
Which, he’s told you as such. 
The muscles in his shoulders flex as he nudges the back of your legs with them, arms circling around your thighs to press his fingertips into the flesh. 
Your legs have lifted a bit, spreading you open even more. 
Finnick presses his tongue flat, letting it relax over the expanse of your cunt as much as the muscle can reach. He licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, repeating the pattern back and forth until you can’t take it anymore. When you whine, the sound desperate and pathetic, he gives you more. 
The interlude of teasing has completely passed, Finnick going back to devouring you like he knows how. He releases one of your legs to use two digits inside of your greedy walls, cunt swallowing them up as Finnick pumps in a fast paced rhythm. 
He focuses on your clit and the surrounding area with his mouth, eyes opening to look up at you. Through the camera, the green is a little grainy, slightly dulled, but you can see the intensity behind his gaze all the same. 
His cheeks flushed, the tip of his nose glistening, blonde wavy hair all over the place from your grip. Your hand finds the strands again as your orgasm approaches, the camera leaning off to the side just a little. 
Finnick pulls away from your cunt and you cry out as you stare down at him in shock. 
He tuts, jerking his head towards the camera. “Keep it on me, baby.” 
You quickly bring it back, taking Finnick’s smile as a form of praise as he goes back down. Just as quick, you’re close again, back arching and muscles tightening. 
Your hand slips from Finnick’s hair, nails scratching at his shoulder as it flails around. Finnick, always knowing exactly what you need, offers his own hand to ground you, both of your fingers quickly interlocking like opposite ends of a magnet. 
When you cum on Finnick’s tongue, it’s so loud that the tiny microphone in the camera struggles to pick it up. 
Watching it back, Finnick teases you for it, his cock sliding in and out of your walls as he fucks you from behind, lips against the shell of your ear as he promises he can make you cum louder here and now than he did then.
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sprout-fics · 11 months
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my thot— idk if I’m alone in thinking this but könig has a somnophilia kink to me. obvs all consensual =3
that man sees you, asleep in his bed, completely trusting of him and all soft and safe and peaceful and it does two things to him: it makes him want to protect you so fiercely he’d rip apart any man who tried to get near you, and it makes him hard. if you’re already prepped bc you fell asleep from earlier endeavors? sheesh. he’s lifting one of your comfy legs and sliding right home. he won’t fuck you fast, cause he wants to keep watching you sleep and let out sleepy little breathy moans, but he’ll rock into you deep. He wants to see if he can make you cum around him while still asleep. He wonders what kinda perverted dreams you’re having while he fucks you. Wonders how you’ll sound when you don’t have the restraint of being awake to filter your moans.
It takes a surprising amount of effort for him not to bite you, when he sees you with your guard down and so soft and plush and wet around him it makes him so possessive he nearly cracks a tooth from grinding them with restraint. When he cums he does it as deep as he can and he looks right at your face when he does, watches the little twitch of pleasure in your eyebrows at feeling so full and warm in your sleep. He tries really hard not to let the sight of you, asleep and full of his thick cum, get him hard again. He lets you sleep in and asks you what you dreamt about while he cooks you breakfast.
IM SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO RAMBLE FOR SO LONG
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Anon I- have no note for this. Holy shit. I'm a mess. I don't even know what to add to this. Full send.
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