#and any other white meat too !

[artthatremindsmeofhannibalnbc]

Beau White, Give Me Confectionary or Give Me Death, 2013 Oil on Canvas

https://www.beauwhiteart.com/

[soup-soup-soup-soup-soup]

SOUP-ER BOWL ROUND 3

THE MOST ICONIC DISH FROM VIETNAM, THIS BEEFY BROTH IS A GUARANTEED SMOOTH RIDE TO FLAVOR TOWN--IT'S GOT BRISKET, IT'S GOT MEATBALLS, IT'S GOT TENDON AND TRIPE, IT'S GOT ALL YOU CAN THINK O-O-O-OF--GIVE IT UP FOR---PHỞ BÒ!

(image credit: saigonscorneria.com)

SAYING CIAO FROM ITALY, THIS SOUP IS A LITERAL MARRIAGE OF INGREDIENTS--GREENS, BEEF MEATBALLS OR OTHER MEATS, AND OF COURSE PASTA--THEY'RE ALL HERE--IT'S MINESTRA MARITATA, ITALIAN WEDDING SOUP!!

(recipe: https://www.allrecipes.com/recipe/13024/italian-wedding-soup-i/

image credit: cookingclassy.com)

[sabraeal]

All Pain Will Turn to Medicine, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

There are ways sickness leaves its mark on a house.

Stale air, for one. Shirayuki could explain the benefits of proper ventilation until she turned blue herself, but the windows are always shuttered when she visits, rooms left dark and stagnant, as if the sickness might simply go away so long as the neighbors don’t hear.

An untidy house, for another. Dishes left teetering in the wash basin, clothes laying heaped in their basket, never put away. Dust over every surface, settling like dew on the grass, with only fingerprints left to prove anyone lived there at all.

Poor fools, Anda muttered, when he’d taken her on her first rounds. You and I know that taking care of the sick is work, but these people, they don’t. They’re always trying to do two jobs at once with half the care and half the thanks.

Lastly, was the smell.

It hits her as a wall when Suki pulls back the curtain: urine and sweat in equal measure, the scent of a body unwashed and bedding unchanged. The stench of the sick, Anda called it, always accompanied by a sniff and the quivering of his cane. He never stayed long in rooms like these; blood he could handle aplenty, but these long, wasting illnesses-- they left him shaking in the night, calling out wordlessly for a comfort she’d never been able to give.

Herr Bauer hardly resembles himself; gone is the fleshy man who stood at Shou’s counter, letting his granddaughter count out pennies. Skin hangs off his bones, wrinkled and yellowed like old parchment. He doesn’t even stir as she enters, his snore thin and wheezing as she comes to her knees.

His skin is papery when she takes his wrist in her hands, counting heartbeats. “How long has he been like this?”

“Days now,” Gen grunts, scowl scouring brackets around his mouth. Suki’s a friendly girl, she always has been, but her husband’s only gotten sourer with each daughter. He’d keep those lines one day, just as his father had, and never lose them no matter what joy he found.

If he ever found some. Shirayuki can’t help but think it unlikely, the way he glowers. “Can’t get up, barely eats. Says nothing tastes right, even though Suki makes everything the way she always does.”

She frowns, letting his arm settle back on the pallet. Herr Bauer huffs, shifting restlessly, and turns his back to her. His undershirt sticks there, the thin fabric clinging like a second skin, nearly translucent stretched across his back. A gnarled hand reaches back, itching absently at his shoulder blade, and there--

“Hah.” Shirayuki squints, leaning closer, making out a patchwork of thin lines, pink and raised though not quite angry yet. They would be, given time. “Has he been scratching at himself more?”

There’s been more than a few nights in these past years where Shirayuki has spent the night on this very floor-- first to bring Suki’s daughters into this world, and second to keep them there, when croup struck the quarter hard this past winter. And even still, Gen’s never quite warmed to her, never quite believed her to be Anda’s equal once he stopped following her on her rounds.

And it’s all the more apparent now when he looks at her, flat as a sheet and twice as coarse. “All old men scratch themselves.”

Anda may say taking care of the sick is work, but between the two, taking care of the well is harder. It takes a deep breath and a determined cheerfulness for her to answer, “I meant, is he scratching himself more? Complaining of discomfort, maybe?”

It’s consternation that fouls up his brow, impatience that makes his mouth rumple into that scowl. “Just going on about his joints, the way he always does. Nothin’ special.”

“Well now, just the other day he’d been saying his ribs hurt,” Suki offers, coming in with a handful of cloths, wrinkled but laundered. It’s not something Shirayuki needs-- not yet anyway-- but it’s a kind gesture, one she takes with a soft smile and a grateful nod. “He asked me if a grandpa could have sympathy pains, since he--” she flushes, looking younger, almost like the girl Shirayuki remembers from the market square-- “well, he’d thought something must be kicking him from the inside, the way he was aching.”

Gen stares at his wife, all accusation. “He didn’t say anything to me!”

“That,” Suki informs him, real crisp, “is because you ain’t known for your listening.”

“Hey now--”

“Thank you.” Shirayuki pitches her voice loud enough to be heard, hoping it’s enough to stem the tide until she gets out the door. “That’s very helpful, Suki.”

She settles back on her heels, slicking away sweat with the back of her wrist. Gen barely allows her a breath before he presses, “So what is it? You got something he can take?”

“Ah...” Her teeth clack together, not quite gritted, but still on-edge. This is the part she likes least, especially with folks like Gen. “Maybe. Once I talk with Herr Anda, perhaps I could--”

“Oh to hells with that,” he huffs, arms folding over his chest. “Your opinion is just as good as that stubborn old fool’s, and you give it twice as fast.”

Shirayuki knows she could collect flies the way her mouth is hanging open, but she can’t help herself, not when her only thought is, but you’re not supposed to like me.

“Whatever you think is fine by me, Shirayuki.” He grunts, giving her the sort of nod men do when they think all the work is said and done, save for their say-so. “Just give it already. Can’t afford to have him under the weather when the girls need watching.”

Her smile pulls thin, held up by will instead of humor. “There’s plenty of things I could give, but there’s a chance they make it worse as well. Herr Anda is the expert, so I should really--”

Gen snorts. “Come on now, everyone knows you run that shop. Herr just sticks around for decoration. Give him what you think is best and be done with it.”

Her hands shake as she gets to her feet, cheeks hot and skin flushed, but her voice is even-- oh, so even-- when she says, “Thank you for the vote of confidence, Herr Bauer, but Anda is the one between us with the most experience, especially when it comes to--” she hesitates, shuffling through words-- “this sort of thing. I’d rather take my time and know I’m giving your father the right treatment, rather than rush and put him in more pain.”

The Bauers have never been small men, but even sitting Gen manages to loom over her, a dark cloud threatening a storm. Still, he doesn’t speak, doesn’t push; no, instead he sits there and-- and--

Shrinks.

“Gen,” she murmurs, resting a hand on his shoulder. It’s so much larger than she suspects, her hand the size of a child compared to him. “I know you’re worried for your father, but I promise, I’ll have an answer for you by morning.”

His brow furrows, the shadows growing on his face. “Do what you have to,” he tells her, gruff and displeased. “I just hope nothing happens to him while you do your waiting.”

On any other day, Gen’s worry would set her on the shortest path through the quarter; a simple trip down the hill with maybe a turn or two to send her the back alley ways, keeping her from hitting the market during the late afternoon rush. But today, today--

Is supposed to be her day off. Not that a physic ever really and truly gets a day off; there’s always the chance there will be measles and babies and broken bones-- a hundred emergencies, all guaranteed to cut a good time short. Or worse, a good night’s sleep.

But still, with Herr Anda manning the shop, the afternoon was supposed to be hers.  And so when she comes to the crossroads, Shirayuki’s feet lead her down the longer path, the one that will take her round the river and over the quarter’s bridge. Might as well enjoy what little time she can eke out from the wreckage of her plans. Once she gets to the shop and gives her report to Anda, it’ll be a long time before she has any time so carefree as this. Not when all her own answers are so...unfortunate.

Her hands give both her cheeks a steadying slap. There’s no point in worrying like this, not when Anda’s the one who will make the call. He’s the one who’s seen these things before, the one who always has some tip, some trick to see her through her worst storms. And yet, yet--

Cleverness can’t fix everything. He’d told her that, not more than a year past now, when Herr Kino died from the cough that’d been going around that winter. We all have our own time. All we do is stall the inevitable, and sometimes it takes.

Shirayuki purses her lips, fingers knitting in her skirt. That’s not what she wants to do, to just...stall for time and set her hopes on the odds. But that room hadn’t just smelled of normal sickness; there was a sweetness beneath it, something far too close to rot for her comfort.

There’s no reason to keep thinking about it, not when she’s already made up her mind, but still, she worries at it, the way a dog does a bone. It’s easy to question herself like this, alone with only her footsteps for company. With one stride she’s certain, and the next she falters, over and over again, an endless argument she can never seem to close.

A terrible state to round the corner in, especially when it’s Obi she finds hunched over the bridge. He stares down at the river like if he does it hard enough, it might give him answers. She could use some of those herself, if only to find the right words to say to close the distance between them.

“Are you waiting for a golden fish?” she asks haltingly, her hands gripping her skirts to keep from shaking. “I hear they grant wishes, so long as you don’t ask for too much.”

His head rolls, chin tracing along his collarbone until he marks her from the corner of one sullen eye. “Is that so? I always heard they made good bones.”

Shirayuki approaches him slowly, one step at a time, the wood grain worn smooth from a thousand hands as she lays her arms on top of it. There’s no hunching for her, but their elbows brush, the way they often would. For a moment, it all feels like it’ll be all right. “Why are the magical creatures always eaten in the stories you tell?”

She means to rib him, the way he’s so fond of teasing her, but when he laughs, there’s no humor in it. “Because where I come from, there’s nothing we do better than ruin a good thing.”

It would be easy to speak, to tell him that there’s nothing ruined, that nothing between them could ever be ruined, not by something so silly as Rina Kramer and her ridiculous ribbons. It’s always been her firm opinion that it’s none of her business who he walks out with; what she even knew came third- or fourth-hand, rumors bandied about by the old gossips when they came to roost at the kitchen window, looking to Oma for a good cup of tea and some hospitality. They all would smile behind their hands, talking louder when she walked through the kitchen, as if they could get a rise out of her with just a bunch of names and speculation. But she’s always known just where she stood with Obi; he could roll the whole town, but it was at Oma’s table he sat when she came through the door, her window he knocked on whenever she had a day free. But now, now--

Nothing is ruined, but the girls he’d stepped out with before had all been his age-- older, in a lot of cases, especially once word got around he knew how to kiss, and then later, that he knew what came after. And that all had made sense to her; it wasn’t like he could think of

her

like that, not young as she was. But Rina Kramer used to sit in front of her in the school room, those long ribbons spilling over her slate, obscuring her copy work until Rina deigned to flip her hair. She’d only been one year ahead of Shirayuki, the best speller in the class, her hair always tied up in the most complicated twists and braids, the sort Oma could never do with her aging hands.

Fancy

, the boys had called her, and she’d looked it, clean and bright and perfect.

Shion Bauer sat in another row; the boys had picked on her for her big eyes-- cow eyes, they’d laughed, big and wet and stupid-- but in that year before they’d gone to apprentice, cow eyes turned alluring, all dark and dewy and fringed with thick black lashes. She’d stayed on in the school room, meaning to be the next mistress when Herr Hoffmann retired to the country with his daughter. A threat he’s yet to make good on, but Shion’s kept on as an assistant of sorts-- she’d only been two years her elder, but Shirayuki still remembers how Shion smelled like sweet grass when she bent over her shoulder, showing her how to long divide.

She’s never wanted to be one of the girls he made time with behind stockroom shelves or in empty hay lofts, but that he’s letting their time bleed into her time...

It feels pointed, is all.

“I heard your day got cut short.” Obi’s got big hands, long and callused on the mounts, and one of them lifts, rubbing at his shoulder. The bad one, though as far as Anda’s concerned it healed right, even if something about Obi didn’t. “Got stuck going ‘round to Gen’s place, huh?”

She nods, small and tight. “Herr Bauer’s taken down with something. Suki thought I might come take a look.”

Obi cranes his neck, leaning close enough that she can see every thread of color running through the gold of his eyes, green and brown and black all together. His mouth twitches, but there’s no humor in that, either. “That bad, huh?”

“Ah, no, it’s not...bad.” The lie would be more convincing if she didn’t flinch telling it; as it is, Obi only grows curious, one eyebrow inching up his forehead. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be something bad. I’m probably just seeing shadows in sunshine today.”

His gaze skitters back to the river, his hands balled to to fists to the rail. “Wonder why.”

It’s little more than a breath, but Shirayuki still hears the words sagging, dragged down by the reproach he lades them with. Not for her, but for himself, laying blame on his back like a carter might his mule. If she gives him half the chance, he might even whip himself like one too, for not carrying it well or silently enough.

It’s hard to speak when she’s so aware of him, when she can account for every inch of space between their bodies. It’s usually so easy to stand beside him, her body and his fitting shoulder-to-shoulder like lock and key, but today she’s all knees and elbows, practically blurting out, “How did you hear, anyway? I thought only--”

Her teeth clack shut, painfully hard. Only Pavo knew, because Pavo had been there, his shirt half open and his-- his particulars half-hard as well. Because she-- because he--

“Pavo told me.”

For the first time in her life, Shirayuki truly understands how a palpitation could stop a heart. “W-what?”

“After I got myself-- er...” Obi coughs into his shoulder, the tip of his ear a painful red against his black bristle. “I thought I might head up to the pond, see if I couldn’t catch up with you. But I met Pavo on the way.”

Her palms prickle, fingers stiff where they clench the rail. It’s impossible that Pavo could have said something-- that he would have. Not after that first summer, when Obi spent more of his waking hours being her shadow than in the shop, glaring at him every time he passed. They might have become fast friends after harvest, but if he took up with all that love making mess as he always did--

“You’re going to ask Anda about it?”

She nearly jumps clear over the rail, only her white knuckles keeping her on the dry side. “A-about what?”

He blinks real slow, the way Pavo does when she talks about tinctures. “About Herr Bauer.”

There’s something in the way he says it, the smallest hint of incredulity wrapped in resignation, that gets her hackles up. Her heels clack as she pushes away from the rail, loud in the air between them. “Of course. He’s my mentor, why wouldn’t I want to ask his--?”

“Hey now.” Obi holds up his hands, eyes wide behind them. “I don’t think there’s any reason for you to be getting sand in your craw over that, Miss. I was just asking. Simple curiosity.”

She deflates, the fight going right out of her sails. “Ah, I’m sorry, Obi. It’s just...Gen asked the same thing.” The derision on his mouth fouls up her own just thinking about it. “He clearly thought I shouldn’t need to.”

“But you don’t, do you?” Obi doesn’t so much walk away but unfurl, each piece of him peeling away from the rail until his warmth radiates in the space between them. “You pretty much run the place, I think Anda wouldn’t mind if--”

“That’s not true.” The words rush from her too loud, too desperate, and she turns that energy into forward motion, setting a brisk pace toward the market. “I may do most of the rounds, but that’s only because it’s better for him to not put so much pressure on...”

His leg. The injury from the war, the one he’s never deigned to let her look at, no matter how bad his hobble. The same one that keeps him up at night, moaning a hundred names into the dark. He may pretend as much as he likes in the morning, but Shirayuki can see the bruises that bleed onto his cheekbones and the darkness in his eyes.

“I don’t know why Suki came to me when Anda was still at the shop.” There are places where her chemise sticks to her skin, damp with sweat, and yet her arms still wrap tight around her, as if that might stop her sudden chill. “If she’d gotten him, he would have been gone and done in half the time, leg or no.”

It’s unfair how much length these past few summers have given Obi; no matter how quick her steps, he keeps pace, not hurried in the slightest. Her breath huffs, but his is steady, unstressed, even when he says. “You know, people like you quite a bit. A lot better than they like Anda.”

“That’s--” unfortunately, undoubtedly true, and he’s earned every bit of it. She gnaws at her lip, a strange restlessness rushing up her legs and tickling her palms. As if she has too much limb and not enough to do with them.

“Well,” she tries again, slowing enough so that her breath doesn’t come faster than her words. “I suppose between the two of us, you could say I have the better bedside manner.”

Obi snorts. “It’s more than that. Anda’s been taking a step back the last year or two, letting you take on most of the work, especially outside the shop. You’re the face everyone sees, and it’s a nicer one than the old man ever showed them.”

“You know his leg bothers him,” she snaps, defensive. “He can’t be going around town all day on it, letting it get--”

“Hey, hey.” His shoulder bumps hers-- or rather, his arm does, luring her right into his grin. “I know Anda’s a spry old fart, and if you let him I’m sure he’d be all hither and yon, but I’m just saying...maybe he’s getting ready to pass on the torch. Not like he doesn’t know that leg of his gets worse by the day.”

More like ‘gets worse depending on the day;’ some mornings he’s hopping around the storeroom, giving her enough guff to tip the scales of her patience, and on others he can hardly rouse from his bed. But that’s not what captures her attention, oh no.

“Pass the torch?” She blinks. “He’s hardly fifty, Obi. He can’t possibly be thinking...”

Herr Hoffmann had hardly been older when he started making noise about moving to the country, and Opa-- ah, well Opa would have traded in his bar cloth for a fishing rod long ago, were her father still alive. Only this morning he’d complained about a creaking back, about how this heat always did in his knees, and maybe wouldn’t she go and find herself a nice man today who knew a good draft when he drank it. She’d laughed, and Oma had crowed, you got a few good years left in you yet, my love, but still--

“Do you think he’s found someone then?” There hasn’t been anyone new past the shop lately, but Anda had always been a private man; she wouldn’t put it past him to keep correspondence to simply letters until it was time. “Maybe there’s someone from the palace...?”

“Found someone? From the palace?” Obi blusters through a laugh, eyes crinkled at the corners. It’s strange how much she wants to touch them, to feel the physicality of his joy, but instead she just curls her hands in her skirt and looks away. “Of course he’s found someone, half pint. You.”

She blinks. “M-me?”

“Yes, you.” His mouth twitches even as he tries to hold it steady, that spark of mischief in his eyes. “You know, his apprentice?”

“Ah, but that’s-- that’s not right.” She shakes her head, trying to loose the knot in her throat. “I’m not-- I’m no trained physician, not like Anda is. I can’t possibly-- he wouldn’t--”

“Why not?” Obi’s head cocks like a crow’s, curious and sharp. “He’s the one training you, isn’t he? Most of the quarters out there make do with some half-taught healer, and some are lucky enough to get an herbalist with even a handful of schooling. Even if you never see the inside of one of those academies, you’re twice the doctor any of them will ever be.”

But she could be better. Without formal schooling, she’d never be as good as Anda, and to leave the quarter with less than it started, to be the reason some of these folk died when they could have lived--

“He wouldn’t-- he couldn’t leave the shop to me,” she insists, nails digging into cotton. “I’m not ready. This isn’t like-- like you and Shou. I can’t just inherit the shop, I’d have to be--”

“Woah, woah.” Fear sits stark on Obi’s face, his eyes so wide she can see the white around them. “I’m not the one inheriting anything. That’s for whatever’s in Seyha’s belly. I’m just...extra hands.”

In the fading sun, the bakery’s window glimmers. Not in the way treasure does in Oma’s stories, but the way the air wavers before the ovens, too hot and just right all in one. Like it had that night when Obi pressed his nose to the glass, eyes so wide they could have been stomachs themselves. He’d watched Shou pull loaves from the oven so hard it was as if he could devour them with his eyes alone, filling what was empty in him.

And Shou had seen him there, a creature more gaping mouth than boy, and understood. The same way he did now, standing at the door of his shop, great head sweeping from one end of the street to another, the furrow in his brow knotting tighter with each body that passed him by. It’s impossible to guess how long he’s been there, sweat beading at his brow and eyes squinted against the sun, but it’s her eyes he meets when they turn the corner, his shoulder easing back down to his collar.

Her hand lifts, a smile ready, but he turns before she can get higher than her waist, stepping inside without a glance back. Extra hands indeed.

“Obi,” she starts, bracing herself as they idle in front of Anda’s door. “I think--”

“IF YOU EVER LEARNED TO OPEN YOUR EARS, EVEN ONCE, MAYBE YOU MIGHT--”

Her teeth grit down, thoughts all in a jumble, and it’s Obi who sighs, “Is that my place, or yours?”

“Ah...” Her fingers tighten on the door. “I think it might be--?”

Her weight pushes the glass the slightest bit ajar, and-- “I DON’T RECALL MAKING PROMISES ABOUT ANY SUCH THING, YOU--”

“Hah.” Obi shakes his head, the tension in his body dropping like leaves in the breeze. “Well, have fun with that.”

“What?” Shirayuki reaches out, trying to grasp a sleeve, a belt loop-- anything that might keep him planted here, next to her. “You can’t just leave me alone to--!”

“Can--” he plucks her one lucky catch from his sleeve, giving her fingers a squeeze before he slithers free-- “and will. Have a nice night there, kid.”

It does no good to glare at his back; oh no, that just puts a spring in his step and whistle on his lips for good measure. But there’s nothing else she can do, not unless she means to go inside, and well...

Shirayuki winces, easing the door open. Obi may make slink seem like a word applicable to more than just cats, but she could walk as quiet as she liked and still Anda would call out from the back, as if she made no effort at all. So when Shirayuki enters the apothecary, it’s with the heavy air of a criminal at the block, braced for the blade.

It’s silent inside; not the quiet of an empty room, but of a whole house catching its breath, caught between words. She barely has time to catch her own before there’s the telltale clink of a cane against the floor, a sound that only abates when Anda emerges from the storeroom, flushed and hunted, his hands thrown into the air. “Can I not get a moment’s rest in my own home, woman? Or will I need to hobble to the privy to get some peace and quiet?”

For a moment, Shirayuki could believe he means her-- almost, since Seyha emerges from the dim behind him, eyes blazing and hot on his trail, despite her belly. “You were never such a fool as--”

Her long fingers reach out, snagging his sleeve, but he pulls away, whip-quick. That injury might slow his steps, but the rest of him is sharp, turning like a blade as she reaches out again, determination honing her already cat-like reflexes. Fingertips brush his sleeve--

And then snatch back, Seyha’s mouth and eyes going wide as she catches Shirayuki’s gaze over his shoulder. “Finally, Shirayuki-ya!” she gasps, eyes rolling heavenward. “Maybe you can talk some sense at him. He certainly won’t hear it from me!”

Her skirts sweep past him, moving toward the door with all the dignity-- and offense-- of a queen. One with a bit of a waddle now, but somehow it doesn’t detract from the effect.

“You have to have sense to give it,” Anda snipes at her back. “And gods above and hells below know you weren’t given the same considerations as an ass!”

The noise Seyha unleashes from her throat isn’t so much a rumble as an earthquake, shaking Shirayuki right down to her toes. But she doesn’t turn, not one inch, her spine painfully straight as she replies, “Well, you would be the expert on asses, now wouldn’t you?”

The sign on the door clatters as it shuts, leaving Shirayuki alone with its echo.

“Finally,” Anda mutters, looking less pleased and more peeved to see the back of her. “Quiet.”

Shirayuki means to speak-- her mouth hangs open and everything, breath caught up in her throat-- but the door flies open, and oh, how Anda’s face lights. “This isn’t over, you know.”

“Of course not, you harpy!” His hand raises, like her neck sits in the space between his fingers, and clenches shut. “The only thing that could free me of your nagging is the sweet release of death!”

“HA!” One of her fingers snakes out, waggling. “You wish it would be that easy!”

There’s a quirk to Anda’s lips as they open, the sign of a particularly creative bit of nastiness behind his teeth, but the door slams before he can deliver it. It fouls up his mouth instead, rumpling like a piece of paper in the bin.

Shirayuki gives a quick look to the sign, still set to OPEN. “Do you want me to--?”

“Do not.” Anda holds up one trembling finger. “Get involved, girl.”

“Ah, I...wasn’t.” It’s a strain to smile, letting her head jerk toward the door. “I only thought...the sign?”

“Ah...” He clears his throat. “Right. Go ahead then. Don’t need anyone else sticking their nose into my business either.”

Shirayuki hardly needs to be told twice; it’s a relief to put her back to him, to be able to avoid getting in the middle of whatever muddle the two of them have gotten themselves into. So much so that she takes the time to flip the lock too, letting herself have an extra breath--

“You know,” Anda grouses, hobbling to the counter. “I thought she had married Herr Beck, and yet somehow she’s over here every day nagging me, as if I’m the one she shackled at the altar.”

--and sighs. So much for that, then. “You know that Seyha--”

“I said,” Anda snaps like a pulled shade, “do not get involved.”

It would be rude to tell him that she learned long ago not to put herself between their barbs, not unless she wanted to feel twice the sting. Instead she busies herself with straightening the counter-- a chore Anda only bothers with if it’s custom making the mess, not the proprietor-- letting a strained silence settle before she tries, “Meister--”

He eyes her over the till, warning heavy in every glance. “What did I just say?”

Her hands wave, trying to clear the air between the, “Ah, it’s not about Sey-- that. It’s about Herr Bauer.”

“Herr Bauer?” He blinks, cane tapping idly on the floor. “Is that boy giving you guff again about knowing more about his staff than he does? He couldn’t find the tail on a pig, let alone--”

“Ah, no, Gen is--” stubborn as a mule and twice as unpleasant-- “not the problem. I meant his father.”

Anda’s brow furrows. “Goro? Didn’t I see him only a few days ago, right over at the bakery? Seemed fine, from what I saw.”

Shirayuki takes a deep breath, setting her hands flat on the counter, as if that might somehow keep her steady. “Unfortunately, that’s no longer the case.”

For what felt like a saga’s worth of an afternoon, it hardly takes any time at all to give Anda both the broad strokes and gritty details of Herr Bauer’s condition. Through it all, he’s silent, a steady presence across the counter even if his mouth tightens as she comes to the end. “And what do you think?”

“It’s his liver.” It surprises her how firm she speaks, how authoritative. The way Anda is on a visit, once the door closes behind him. “Hepatitis, maybe. Or...another ailment, perhaps. But I worry...”

He waves at her, quick and impatient, urging the words out of her. “Well?”

“He’s never shown much sign of it before, has he?” Her teeth worry at her lip, wishing there was some loose skin to gnaw on, if only to give her something to do. “And he’s not much of drinker, considering.”

“Considering how a good half of his lot imbibe like fish?” Anda lets out a harsh hah. “Not saying much. Still, you’ll see stranger things on a job like this. I can teach you all the best knowledge the king’s college has to offer, but at the end of the day, sometimes all you have is your gut.”

“That’s a poor substitute for education.” Shirayuki shakes her head, ponytail sweeping over her spine. “Didn’t you always tell me that more mistakes were made by men who thought they knew better than the ones who came before them?”

Anda grunts, running his hand through the peppered thicket of his hair. “We all reach a point where the learning gives out, and we have to fall back on what feels right. You have to trust yourself.” A warm weight perches on her shoulder, tentative yet firm, and it takes a moment of her fully staring down, right at the callused fingers clutched there, to realize it was Anda touching her. “Especially you, girl. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, sure enough, but you’ve got even better instinct. That can make the difference between a patient and a corpse.”

“A-ah...” It’s a point she’d argue if it came from any other mouth, but Anda is hardly in the practice of giving advice he hasn’t earned the hard way-- or compliments. “I suppose...if you say so...”

“I do. Shirayuki...” He sighs, letting his hand fall back to his side with a shake. “How are you going to run this place if you have to come talk to an old man every time it gets hard.”

Shirayuki stares. “Run...?”

“Don’t get any fool ideas, girl,” he sniffs, waving her off. “Not any time soon. You’re nowhere near ready. But one day you won’t have me over your shoulder, giving you all the answers. Don’t forget that.”

“I...” She licks her lips, only to find her mouth is incredibly, impossibly dry. “I won’t.”

He grunts, giving her a firm nod before he hobbles past. “Good. Now go off and get what you need for Herr Bauer. No need to keep that man in pain now that you have your plan.”

“Ah, right!” His nod goads her into action, scurrying behind the counter. She shuffles at the stockroom door, almost unsure of what to do with herself. “I’ll get it ready now and drop it off first thing in the morning.”

“Good enough.” Anda hesitates on the first stair to his loft, looking back to tell her, “You can stay here tonight, if you like. It’ll take a while to brew up that tincture, and there’s no need for you to go all the way home in the dark. The Bauer place is closer here anyway.”

Maybe by a few steps, but Shirayuki knows better than to look Anda’s charity in the mouth, at least for too long. “Right. I’ll-- I’ll do my best.”

His mouth may not move more than it takes to open it, but his eyes crinkle at the corners.“That’s all I could ask.”

She turns back to the stockroom, taking in a deep breath of mint and nettle--

“Eh, hold up there, girl.” A stair creaks under Anda’s weight as he shifts around to look at her. “Didn’t I give you the day off? How is it that Suki Bauer even found you out on that lake?”

“Ah...” It’s terrible to be caught like this, pinned by her master’s gaze like a specimen to a board. “Er...”

Anda lets out a huff, chest puffing up as proud and as red as a robin’s. “That boy didn’t stand you up again, did he? I should go right on over there and give him a piece of my mind. That woman’s giving him too free a rein if he thinks he can waste your time--”

Ah. She slumps against the jamb. So much for keeping out of their scuffle.

It’s just as Anda said: by the time she’s done measuring and grinding and sifting and brewing, the moon’s already gone behind the rooftops, casting the cobbles in forbidding shadows. There’s no reason she couldn’t go home; there’s hardly any safer streets for her than these, but still-- she collapses into the spare cot before she can do much more than take off her stays, dropping into a blessedly dreamless sleep.

When she wakes, it’s with a shake, Anda’s sour expression hovering above her.

“Get up, girl.” His voice is rough from sleep, burred and bleary. “Your friend is here.”

She blinks, rubbing sleep from her eyelids. “O-obi?”

His mouth puckers. “No, not him. The cow who’s always in here having another girl.”

That gets her upright. “Suki? Is it Herr Bauer? Is he worse?”

“No.” He rises from her bedside, cane clomping across the floorboards. “It’s her husband. Seems he’s fallen ill too.”

“O-oh.” Her stomach churns, but there’s no time for regrets, not when there’s work yet to be done. “Tell her...tell her I’ll be right there.”

[nil-the-glitch]

actually yknow what, no. this is not being limited to discord, yall get it too.

some general cooking tips (in which there is a brief senshi posession):

moisture is the enemy of crispy skin. pat dry with paper towel, and if you have the time and spoons, give a thorough but even coat of baking powder and let sit uncovered in your fridge overnight. this will dry out the skin nicely. for pork belly, create a tight foil boat so that only the skin is showing, and cover in salt to draw out moisture, repeating a couple times if necessary.

furikake seasoning, for the fellow rice lovers, is just nori (seaweed), sesame seeds, sugar, and msg/salt. you might have most if not all of these things already in your kitchen.

chai spice mix is just cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, cloves, nutmeg, & allspice.

pumpkin spice is just cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, and ginger.

to cure your own bacon, you only need water, white and brown sugar, and a non-iodized salt - himalayan pink salt is not iodized, if you cannot find butchers curing pink salt. from there, you can add any seasoning/flavoring you want.

the truly adventurous may cook their rice in green tea for a fresh clean taste.

you can tell if a fish is truly fresh by their eyes - clear and bright is fresh, while cloudy is older or potentially has been frozen.

it's cheaper to buy a large block pack of ramen from your local asian market and repackage the bricks into sandwich bags, than to buy a box of individually packaged ones such as maruchan or top ramen.

when buying meat, look at it's fat content - more fat marbling usually means more tender + flavorful.

you can save onion skins and other vegetable scraps to make your own broth with. you can also save bones for this. mix and match ratios to create your ideal flavor.

bay leaf will always make a soup or broth taste better, but Watch Out (they are not fun to bite into on accident).

msg is, in fact, not The Devil, that was just a racist hate campaign against the chinese and other oriental races. it's literally just a type of salt. it is no more dangerous to eat than any other type of salt.

washing your rice is important because it not only improves flavor and texture by removing excess starch, but it also helps reduce any residual pesticides or dirt, or even insect fragments (please remember that rice paddies are essentially giant ponds that all kind of things live in and swim around. you should also be washing all your produce in general.)

please salt your cooking water for pastas, it just tastes better and you will be happier for it.

boiled potatoes are also improved by salt water.

if you hate vegetables, please consider trying them fried in butter or perhaps bacon grease. it is healthier to eat them fatty than not at all.

healthy food does not in fact have to taste miserable. thats a lie. they are lying to you. free yourself from your blandness shackles. enter a world of flavor.

[shotmrmiller]

Ghost knew that declining any type of work in this industry wasn't ideal. He can do as he likes because Ghost is a name everyone knows, a porn actor no one forgets.

Unlike you, the newcomer. Still so green behind the ears.

So, with a downturn of your alluring lips, you inform him that the meeting to go over the upcoming threesome with Price would have to wait.

"My manager sent me an email this morning, very last minute, about a video I'm gonna shoot with Gaz."

The fingers that were tugging your hair still. "Oh yeah? Know wha' kinda scene your doin'?"

You softly hum. "He's to be my handyman neighbor. Gotta bat my eyes at him as I ask if he can come fix my kitchen sink."

Kyle's a decent bloke, a looker for sure.

He's an up-and-coming entertainer. The pretty boy next door, the brother's best friend type.

Face as if sculpted from marble, a smile to die for.

Beautiful, really. Not particularly Ghost's type though, he likes a little more meat on his bottoms. Not that what he thinks matters, of course.

"Tha's alrigh', love. We'll postpone it to after then, yeah?"

Ghost quietly sits behind Price with his arms crossed, never taking his sharp eyes off the small screen. Even though Kyle is there too, all he can see is you. Your rosy tongue tantalizingly licks your bottom lip as you give Kyle a once-over.

Smart fingers undoing the button on his trousers, hooking into the waistband, carefully pulling them down until they puddle at his ankles.

The way you gaze up at him through your lashes, with his cock in your pert mouth, taking him in until the tip of your nose grazes his trimmed pubic hair.

How your neck cranes back so beautifully, eyes fluttering closed as Kyle slides his expert tongue through your slick folds. Your soft thighs trembling as you buck into his mouth, the heels of your feet digging into his back. Ghost's ears catch the sound of your breath hitching, while his eyes feast on the delectable sight of your back arching off the kitchen counter as you reach your peak.

His fingers sink into his thick bicep when Kyle doesn't relent after; continues to lap away at your sodden cunt, pressing tiny kisses on your sensitive clit. Ghost's spine straightens instantly when he hears your pained whimper.

It's too much, Kyle needs to back off before he forcibly gets him off of you—

It takes less than a minute for you to reach another peak, squealing as you come.

Your airy laugh dissolves the tension in his shoulders and leans back into his chair.

Good.

He drinks in the euphoric expression on your face when Kyle slowly sinks into your wet heat— your sweet moan forever music to his ears. Ghost watches you jolt back on the counter with every sharp snap of Kyle's slim hips. He hears the breath punched out of you with each thrust. He can see your white, creamy release around the base of Kyle's thick length, strings of slick connecting you two.

Your hands curl around Kyle's forearms, your shaky legs wrapping around his waist.

Ghost's eyes narrow when Kyle leans forward to whisper something into your ear, and you mewl loudly. Ghost clenches his jaw so tightly that he hears a pop.

Kyle's got stamina, Ghost'll give him that. He fucked you through three orgasms until he finally pulled out and spurted thick cum over your mons.

Price calls it a wrap, and the crew begins to take down the lights and such.

Ghost doesn't move from the chair he's in, knowing that you'll come to him, even on unsteady legs.

And walk over you do, slowly but surely. "Hi, Ghost." He pats his thigh invitingly, gesturing you to sit.

"Hey, love. You did so well," he praises. "Looked a dream."

As you glance down in embarrassment, his dark eyes lock onto Kyle's, who stands with a cold water bottle in hand across the room. "Flatterer."

He holds Kyle's gaze a couple more seconds before flicking them to you. "Only tellin' the truth, pet. Alrigh', let's get outta here. Ya hungry?"

He places an arm around your lower back, the other under your knees, and lifts you off his lap.

"Don't even try to pull tha' dietin' bullshit on me either," he chides.

He huffs in amusement when you sputter.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey

gn reader

Thinking about being a pretty little bunny caught in the claws of two big bad wolves…

They both cram themselves inside the same hole – fucking you rhythmically alongside each other with your smaller body pressed between theirs.

Sharp claws dent your flesh while canines fully split it open – imprinting on your fragile skin unforgivingly deep – leaving it to bruise and gush with blood the moment they spill the last of their big weighty balls inside you – both at the same time.

And after knots unknot and stiff thickness deflate – turning soft before slumping out of your abused hole – you’re finally allowed to rest in a mixture of bitter-sweet relief. 

Gratefully accepting their long-awaited finish – you slump against the sweaty chest before you with the face of your cheek smushed tight against the soothing warmth – hole fluttering numbly around nothing with the ticklish feeling of hot cum slowly trickling out only to go cold in the air.

Their sounds turn soft with a loss of growls and sharp teeth, and the one behind you places a kiss on your cheek, telling you that he’s proud – his breaths heavy and damp against your skin while he rests his sweaty forehead and slick mane softly against you. 

Both of them hug you gently – pressed tight between them – and slowly work on retrieving some semblance worth of strength while caught in the hefty crash of rapture – bodies ablaze yet steadily cooling with hearts halting in their sporadic run – dying down into slow thuds, draining until they’re both just two heaps of unwound muscles.

A couple of minutes more just like that and one of them leaves you with a groan while other begins lazily kissing and licking you in aftercare – his warm tongue laving gently over the brutal lovebites they’ve left on your otherwise pretty skin – whispering soothingly that he only wants to clean them up, so you don’t catch any unwanted infections. 

But his efforts of comfort don’t really help you keep from trembling or whimpering, nor do they help ease your erratic breath – where you sit between his legs, held tightly to his chest with both his thick arms wrapped effortlessly snug around your much smaller waist.

He's in charge of getting you cleaned up and dressed while his partner preps dinner – you hear the wolf downstairs with pots and pans while the one he’d left you with pulls you into a white babydoll – helping you stand where you wobble with hips aching upon every little move. 

He tells you that you're the cutest, making you yelp when squeezing your cottontail before picking you up like a wounded animal – as though you're incapable of making it down the stairs alone.

The stench of dead animals oozing from the kitchen makes you queasy more than hungry – but your captors, on the other hand, easily work up an appetite with the taste of your blood still fresh on their teeth. 

The thunderous sound of their stomach rumbling is all too much to keep you from crying – despite the warning you’d received the last time you’d created too much of a fuss for them – when one of them had forced bits of meat down your throat, making you chew and swallow it all one torturous bite at a time until you’d finally learned your lesson, willingly opening your mouth for him despite flinching and crying at the unnatural stomach-twisting taste. 

He'd seemed somewhat sorry seeing you throw up for days from both disgust and indigestion – and had since tried making up for it by preparing proper meals catered to your diet.

You were happy to see the medley of leafy greens and baby carrots plated for you on the dinner table, averting your eyes from the massive medium rare steaks the two dogs loudly and hungrily started cutting into – lop ears flinching upon the clash of sharp knives crashing hungrily against ceramics – trying to withhold the whimper when seeing the mixture of blood and grease roll down their chins along with the unsightly view of their sharp teeth tearing through tendons as effortlessly as if it were nothing but the same grass on your plate.

Fruit for dessert is nearly enough to lift the nausea while the three of you snuggle on the couch after dinner. Or perhaps you’d just gotten used to it – they always get lazy after eating after all – and cuddly.

You lie on top of one of them, your back against his broad chest – lifting with the rise and fall of his beaths. The other lies on top of you again, on his belly. He tells you to scratch his ears, and you don’t dare refuse him.

He moans when you rub on the tip between your small fingers – resting his head atop your heart before starting to drool, small growls ever-present in his snores. His tail lifts and slowly starts wagging in drowsiness as he gives the inside of your ear a ticklish lick – making you cringe and whine.

The one beneath you rests his chin atop your head, chuckling at the two of you – and you really wish you could get used to how the growl in their chests rock your ribs and how their mouths reek of death. Desperately, you try to focus on the smell of bleach and flowers – the ones they’ve bought and brought home to you when trying to distract you from the grocery bags held behind them – chock-full of bloody bits they stock the meat locker with. 

That would be your worst nightmare, you unwillingly think, shuddering at the thought as if consumes you – to be locked up in that room – you’re only glad they’ve yet to think of it as a punishment.

Sometimes you wonder if they’re planning to eat you at some point. You’re certain they understand they can’t successfully breed with you – so it wouldn’t make sense for them to keep you forever, even though they swear to it when you sleep squished between their bodies in the middle of the bed with their massive paws and sturdy claws latched onto your supple flesh.

It's impossible for you to ignore what they are when the whole den has hints of rot lingering in the air, and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to let go of the fear. But at the same time… you can’t really deny their love entirely either – not when they rub their snouts into your neck so lovingly, cuddling you tight as though protecting you from any harm, grooming you with their own tongues ticklish against your skin and fur, thoroughly leaving their print and scent on you, fully claiming you as theirs.

BNHA – BakuDeku, TodoBaku, KiriBaku, EndMight, EndHawks, DabiHawks, ShigaDabi

JJK – SatoSugu, Toji x Shiu

HQ – Miya twins

DS – DouAka

HxH – HisoIllu

[theemporium]

Eddie Munson wasn’t the most romantic guy, but he tried his hardest. 

His feelings for you were overwhelming in the best way possible. He was loud and eccentric and a little too much for most people, but then again, you weren’t like most people. Wayne had always joked that it was a shock Eddie managed to snag someone like you. You always liked to joke back that Eddie was scaring everyone else off until you came along. 

But truth be told, he agreed with Wayne. 

He wasn’t sure how he managed to get someone like you to love him, but you did. You loved him with your whole heart. You took one look at him and saw the real Eddie. You didn’t see some third year senior, or some freak obsessed with a fantasy game. You didn’t see a weird metalhead, or some kid with no future. 

You saw Eddie. You saw a glimpse of him and you wanted to see more. You wanted to see more so you could love more, and it made his chest feel funny the way you decided to stick around even after seeing the person behind the mask. 

And sometimes, Eddie envied how easily the relationship seemed to come to you. You would always surprise him, sometimes with dinner from his favourite or a bouquet of flowers or a tape you knew he had been wanting. You always knew when he wanted to be held or the words he needed to hear to cheer him up a little. You always knew how to make him feel special, like it was a basic instinct for you. 

Meanwhile, Eddie was left second guessing himself because the last thing he wanted was to scare you away. He loved you. He loved you so much, it hurt. He loved you so much and he just wanted to show that. Hence, the picnic date. 

He had gone all out, having spoken to Robin and Steve countless times over the last week to set up the perfect date setting. He cleaned out the back of his van to make it the perfect fortress of blankets and pillows. He had packed your favourite foods and even splashed some money on the slightly more expensive beer that was easier to get down.

It was the perfect set up for a romantic date, but the funny thing about Eddie Munson was that he wasn’t really a romantic kinda guy. And that was something you adored about him.

You didn’t want cheesy dates and corny lines that made you borderline feel like you wanted to empty your stomach. You didn’t want over-the-top date nights or meticulously planned outings. You didn’t want expensive beers and fancy chocolate-covered strawberries that cost three times the amount they should. 

You wanted Eddie. 

You wanted your Eddie. 

You wanted your Eddie who made you feel good in a million different ways that no other man could ever compare to.

“Eddie,” you let out a soft, high-pitched squeal as your head fell back against the thick blanket beneath you. “Shit, I—”

“This,” he groaned, low and rough and gravelly. It made your stomach dip. His hands gripped the meat of your thighs, keeping them spread open as he leaned down to lick a thick strip along your cunt. “This is better than any fucking dessert.” 

“Eddie,” you whined, your hands gripping the fabric of your pretty sundress in tight fists as he began shamelessly licking the mess you had made all over your thighs.

And you really shouldn’t have been surprised. 

Eddie was a simple man when it came to you. Anything you did, the boy obsessed over because you did it and he was obsessed with you. So, his brain practically short-circuited when you came running out your house, dressed in a pretty floral dress that brushed against your thighs and had two thin straps holding it up. He about lost the ability to speak when you leaned over to kiss his cheek in a greeting, giving him the perfect view of your tits. But his downfall was when you climbed into the back of his van, giving him the perfect glimpse of the white cotton panties you were wearing that made it difficult to care about eating anything but you.

He lasted all of twenty minutes before he broke, watching a little dribble of strawberry juice drip down your chin that had him leaning over, licking up the mess before crawling over your body completely. You had breathed out his name, breathless and a little dazed when you saw the heated look in his eyes, the look that told you he wanted to devour you and that was exactly what you let him do.

But now you were two orgasms in, your body was wracked with pleasure and the boy didn’t look like he had any plans of stopping soon.

“‘s too much,” you cried out as he pushed your thighs up, almost bending you in half with your knees pushing against your chest so you were completely spread out and exposed for him. “Please, I can’t—”

“One more,” he groaned against your cunt, his nose nudging your swollen clit because he liked the way your body jerked in response. “Need you to come on my fingers, honey. Then I’ll stop, okay? Just one more, that’s all I want.” 

“Mhmm,” you whimpered, all high-pitched and whiny but your obedience made him grin. 

And he did intend to only make you come one more time for him. He intended to give you a break. He did. He really, really did. 

But then he was knuckle deep inside you, the wet and debauched sounds of your soaking pussy echoing through the back of his van as you squirmed and moaned and screamed out his name until your throat was raw. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, your thighs were shaking in his hold and you were babbling incoherently, so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t have time to warn him that something felt different, that there was a twist deep in your guts that didn’t feel familiar.

Eddie could’ve came in his pants from the sight alone.

It almost felt never-ending. His fingers were pumping in and out of you, already soaked to the wrist with your arousal before you were squirting everywhere. You were shaking beneath him, mouth parted with silent screams as you soaked everything around you. As you shook and moaned and came harder than you ever had in your life. As you did something he only thought was possible in fucking pornos. 

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment when your brain seemed to catch up with your body, blinking a few times as the realisation hit you like a freight truck. Your eyes instantly teared up, your hands desperately trying to pull the soaking material of your sundress over your body to cover yourself up like it would give you some dignity. 

You opened your mouth. “Eddie, I’m so—”

“Did I say you could cover up?”

You blinked, your brows furrowing in confusion. “What?”

He slapped your hands away, not allowing you to pull your skirt over your pussy. “I said,” he repeated, his voice lower this time as his darkened gaze caught yours. “Did I say you could cover up?”

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “No, sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, and the hot tears of embarrassment were quickly replaced with the warmth of his praises. “Now, lay back down and keep your legs open.” 

“Eddie—” you started again, your stomach dipping when you noticed the mess you made. Not only were you soaked, but so was he. His clothes now stained darker, along with the blanket beneath you but he didn’t seem to care.

“Shhh,” he hummed as his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, completely uncaring of your arousal leaking and dripping down your thighs. “Only wanna hear your pretty moans, honey. Wanna hear how good it feels.”

“It?” You questioned breathlessly.

His grin was vindictive, almost sinister. “Wanna see you do it again f’me, baby.”

Your eyes widened. “But—”

“Nuh uh, what did I say?” He chastised softly, gripping your thighs until a soft whimper left your lips. “Now, either you let me hear those needy noises or I stuff something in that pretty mouth of yours to keep you quiet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now, open those legs and let me see my pretty girl.”

.

[jenosbigtoe]

brother’s best friend!lee jeno x reader

minors dni

summary: your overprotective big brother's best friend is just too irresistible. too bad you have to keep your relationship a secret from him. established relationship au!

warnings: jeno is a freak lowkey, creampie, breeding kink, possessiveness, unprotected sex, size kink (if you squint), mating press, jeno fat cock, jeno is a simp, squirting, pussy eating, literally just pwp

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: intentional lowercase (i hate autocaps) and not proofread so if you see any grammar mistakes lmk. IK THIS IS A WORN OUT TROPE BUT IDC BROTHERS BEST FRIEND JENO FTW this is just so self indulgent so if its ass um ☠️

pretty pink lip gloss, fresh set of french tip acrylics, short white mini skirt, strawberry scented lotion, and a pink lacy camisole. you, na y/n, were going to be the death of lee jeno.

"dude stop looking at my little sister like that you freak," jaemin threw a dirty sock laying around at his best friend's face as jeno stared at your plump ass like a piece of meat while you were in the kitchen making yourself a snack.

"shut the fuck up man," jeno grumbled as he proceeded to knock jaemin off course in moo moo meadows in mario kart.

you smirked knowingly with your back turned. you knew exactly what you were doing. it was 10 pm on a friday night, meaning jeno and jaemin were having their weekly guys night and would crash in the living room, playing video games, drinking beer, and eating pizza.

and it also meant you would get to dangle yourself like a piece of meat in front of your boyfriend and oblivious brother as you watch your hungry boyfriend try to behave himself.

"jaem let me have a turn," you whined, inviting yourself into the living room, and sat between the two boys on the verge of beating the shit out of each other over mario kart.

"y/n you know damn well you're shit at these types of games now why would i let you play when im about to rock jeno's shit," jaemin didn't even look over at you and continued to focus on the screen. "FUCKKKK JENO THOSE GODDAMN SHELLS. FUCK YOU DICKFACE”

jeno on the other hand glanced over at you, eyes never looking once at yours and instead focused straight on your plump titties popping right out of your push up bra. and he drove right off course, leaving jaemin to yelp in victory as he finished in 1st place.

"fuck you jaemin. here y/n you can play on my controller," jeno rolled his eyes and passed his controller to you. his character was already pink yoshi, making your heart melt because he knew that was your go to.

“thank you, jeno. at least some people are actually nice and considerate,” you rolled your eyes at your older brother.

"well okay you asked for it. prepare to get your ass kicked like our dear jen over there, y/n," jaemin said with an evil glint in his eyes.

as the game was about to start, you suddenly had an idea and paused the game. "wait jaem, i don't really know how to play. can you go easy on me?"

"hell no. you wanted to play with the big boys so now you gotta face the consequences."

you turned to look at jeno, who was very obviously just staring at your tits the entire time. "jeno, jaemin is being a bitch to me. can you teach me how to play since he doesn't want to go easy on me?" you tilted your head and pouted your lip in a way that you knew he liked.

you knew damn well how to play and beat the shit out of jaemin at mario kart but you also knew how good you looked right now and how this would be the perfect opportunity to tease your sexy boyfriend.

"aw hell no that's cheating, y/n," jaemin whined.

“too bad. it ain’t up to you, sore loser.” you gave jeno a smirk with a knowing look in your eyes.

"well i don't mind. plus you won the last round anyways, jaem," jeno spoke up, shifting around and subtlely fixing his sweatpants. you were teasing him so bad and it was going straight to his cock.

jaemin looked at jeno, then you, then right back at jeno, narrowing his eyes a bit. "hey since when did you two get so chummy?"

"jaemin stop being a bitch and let's just play. i don't even know how to play and jeno helping me isn't going to suddenly make me become a mario kart god."

jaemin rolled his eyes. "whatever man."

jaemin unpaused the game and the race started. you pretended to freak out, not knowing where to go as jaemin left you in the dust.

jaemin started laughing his ass off as he quickly climbed the ranks as you were left in dead last. "kiss my ass, y/n."

jeno leaned over to show you the controls but you took this opportunity to yank him to sit behind you, causing you almost be sitting in his lap as his arms wrapped you. "now show me the controls," you grinned evilly and shifted around so your ass rubbed against his dick.

jeno was stunned. doing this literally right in front of your brother? who forbade you two from ever seeing each other? he could just smell your sweet strawberry perfume, which had him wanting to just gobble you up. and your cute little outfit, god he just wanted to rip it right off of you and mark your body up, claim you as his. and not gonna lie, the thrill of being right next to your brother and his best friend had his heart pumping blood straight to his boner.

you both were lucky jaemin had tunnel vision when it came to video games, his face literally glued to the screen. otherwise he would've seen how your little white skirt rode up your thighs and your panties were literally grinding against his best friend's cock.

you let jeno take the controller and pretended to still be the one playing, occasionally screaming out curses at your brother and let out cheers when you hit him with shells. meanwhile you were really just shifting around on jeno's cock through his sweat pants as you ran your manicured nails up and down his veiny arms that were wrapped around you. his hands just looked so big and meaty on that controller, had you fantasizing about what they would be doing to you tonight.

as you neared the final lap, you in 6th place and jaemin in 2nd, you suddenly grabbed the controller out of jeno's hands and shoved him back beside you. he let out a loud grunt as he fell to the ground. jaemin suddenly took 1st place and finished the round. you were 8th. you gave jeno a fake apologetic look as he glared at you.

“oops,” you whispered, sticking your tongue out.

jaemin looked over at you and gave you a triumphant look. "now what did i tell you?"

you rolled your eyes and stood, your skirt rode up almost all the way and on the verge of exposing the little cream panties with red hearts on them that you knew jeno loved. the way jeno was sitting, you standing up gave him the perfect view of the way your puffy pussy fit in your little panties, making him even harder than before.

"whatever loser i'm heading back to my room. have fun being bitchless on a friday night." jaemin threw a pillow at your turned back. you sauntered back to your room, making careful sure to sway your hips as you knew jeno's eyes were trained straight on your ass.

it was 1 am and you were still up, bored out of your mind and scrolling through your phone. he should've been here by now, you pouted. you got frustrated and started ripping your clothes off, leaving you in just your push-up bra and panties when a voice from behind startled you.

"baby, you already starting without me? i'm hurt," jeno wrapped his arms around you, pressing his body against yours, and whispered softly in your ear, causing you to shiver.

you puffed out your cheeks. "waited for so long. was about to go to sleep because my shithead boyfriend left me needy over here."

jeno started groping at your body, squeezing your juicy tits and lightly grinding his erection against your barely clothed ass. "sorry sweet girl. jaem wouldn't fall asleep because that girl from his econ class finally texted him back, corny ass." he left a trail of kisses down your neck and sucked at a particular spot on your collar bone that had your knees weak.

you smiled to yourself. you couldn't pretend to be mad at him for long, not when you're so whipped for him. you turned around and looked up at him, admiring your sexy boyfriend. he finally listened to you and dyed his hair back to black, leaving it long and messy just how you like it. he was wearing a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants with the simple gold chain you bought him for his birthday. he knew just how you like it. what a fucking manwhore. you were ready to devour him whole.

you smashed your lips on his, messy and hot, tongue everywhere and spit dripping down your connected mouths. suddenly, you pushed him down on your bed and started straddling him, grinding your pussy directly on his cock through his sweatpants, causing him to groan into your mouth. one hand gripped at your hair and the other groped your ass.

"baby i need you. i missed you so much," you whispered, looking into his eyes.

he connected his lips to yours with a renewed fervor. clothes started flying off as you kissed each other passionately. he reached for a condom in your nightstand but you stopped him.

"raw baby. i need you in me right now." you grinned at him.

he cursed, flipped you over on your back and used his weight to press you against the mattress. his thick, muscular body pressing you to the mattress had you breathless and in need for more. "is my baby needy? is my baby needy for this cock?"

he reached down and began to lightly caress your pussy, gathering your leaking juices and spreading it around. his fingers teased your hole, rubbing circles around it and occasionally deciding to stick one in for one pump before going back to rubbing and teasing.

"had me thinking about this pussy all night. fuck. love you so much baby. you're so sexy and you get me so hard. no one does it for me like you. you looked so cute today, just wanted to eat you up. didn't care if that shithead was there, just wanted to love on my girl." he continued to tease your little pussy and alternate between fingering and rubbing you.

then he crawled down until he was facing your wet pussy directly. staring at your pussy like a piece of meat in front of starved lion, he gave one long lick all the way up your cunt and started sucking, making sure to make lewd noises. your legs were shaking with need as you gripped his hair.

"fuck you taste so good. all wet just for me. this pussy is mine," he groaned into your cunt.

at this point, your pussy was gushing so much you felt a puddle beneath you. his fingers and lips felt so so good on your pussy but you were tired of his teasing. you got up and suddenly looked down at him seriously. "jen if your cock isn't in me in the next 5 seconds i'm seriously going to break up with you and fuck haechan or something."

this lit a fire within jeno, whose eyes darkened. he lifted his body and gave his impossibly hard cock a few pumps, rubbing your juices all over his massive cock. he grabbed your thighs, lifted your legs over his shoulders, and shoved his cock into your little pussy with one big thrust.

you both moaned out, your pussy leaking happily as he bottomed out, balls deep. he set out on a fast past immediately, pounding your pussy deeper and harder with each thrust. you could feel his heavy balls slap against your ass.

"yes, jen yes yes yes! oh god more more! love you so much baby," you grabbed at his hair as he pounded your pussy into oblivion. in the deep mating press he had you in, you could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. his cock was just so so big, you could never get enough of it.

you could see the veins pop out of his neck and his beefy arms were pinning your hips down as his hips were pounding you with each powerful thrust. he looked so so so sexy and he was all yours.

"god baby your pussy was made for me. love you so so much. mine. all mine. everything about you all mine, just for me," jeno kissed you passionately, both moaning into each other mouths.

he used one of his hands to press down on your lower belly, making your pussy leak and throb around him. "you feel that, princess? you feel me deep in your tummy? only i can do that to you, only me."

your mind was blank at this point, body completely numb to everything except the pleasure he was giving you. you could feel yourself about to get sent over the edge, your pussy spasming and clenching hard around every vein on his cock.

"bout to cum baby don't stop don't stop!!" you orgasmed with a loud scream, pussy squirting all over his stomach.

jeno continued fucking you through your orgasm, grunting at the feeling of your little pussy spasming all over his cock. "baby m close too, fuckkk."

fat tears rolled down your face at the overstimulation of pleasure. "jen please cum inside please."

jeno groaned, thrusting every harder and deeper than before. "such a slut. you like that huh? you want your boyfriend to knock you up? you want to have a baby with your brother's best friend? fuck. how about you just get pregnant? he wouldn't be able to disapprove of us when you're already round and waddling around with my baby."

with one loud groan, he bottomed out inside of you and let out his thick load. he collapsed on top of you, cock still balls deep inside, crushing you under all his weight with your face pressed against his sweaty chest.

you stayed like that for a few seconds before you tapped on his back, signaling that you couldn't breathe. still keeping his cock deep inside your leaking pussy, he flipped you over on your side and cuddled your back, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other pushing your hair out of your face. you panted, eyes closed in bliss. jeno drew circles on your arms and left kisses up and down your jaw and neck.

"just saying, you would look sexy as fuck pregnant with our baby." jeno whispered.

you opened your eyes to turn back and swat at his chest but what you saw made your blood run cold in horror.

it was your brother standing right in the open doorway staring at your naked bodies with a look of fury, surprise, horror, and shock that you had never seen before.

the three of you screamed at the sight of each other in unison.

a/n: i intentionally wrote the ending like that because i'm unsure if anyone would even want to continue reading this lmaooo so lmk what you think

[heartshapedmisery]

𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jon snow

summary ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ in which jon wanders too far north of the wall into free folk territory and is put under your supervision, mance rayder's daughter, after your voluntary offer of him staying in your tent. you never thought you would be willing to bunk with a crow, but of course, there's a first for everything.

warnings ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  MINORS DNI ! ( 18+ ) | language, graphic smut, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it y'all ), inexperienced!jon, reader taking jon's virginity, little bit of subby!jon, riding, handjob, mentions of blood ( reader bites jon's lip on accident whoops ), oral ( f! recieving ), jon having a praise k!nk, jon having literally no self-control, reader calling jon a crow about a thousand times lmao, minimal use of Y/N, lmk if i missed anything!

word count ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ 3k +

pairing ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖ jon snow x fem!rayder!reader.

author’s note ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  jon snow is so babygirl

honestly loved writing this, lmk what you think! also, should i make a part two with ygritte involved ?? wink wink

publishing date ― .ﾟ‪‪ ˖  june 26th, 2023 | © HEARTSHAPEDMISERY

When you first saw the darkness of his furs sticking out so flamboyantly against the white of the northern snow, you knew Ygritte had struck gold on her hunt with the others.

You watched with a cautious but intrigued look on your face as she pulled him along behind her by a long rope tied around his hands, cradling a longsword in the crook of her arm with a wide smile on her face. But, the look on the crow's face seemed to be the total opposite.

Everything about him was dark, from his ratted furs to his hair that looked like it hadn't been given a good wash in ages, to even the disgruntled frown that didn't seem to leave his face until Ygritte finally untied him from his restraints. He was a crow, through and through.

You had seen plenty men of the Night's Watch before―even killed a few―but the one who stood before you as you made your way into your father's council tent was different. His eyes were a deep, darling brown, holding a youth that couldn't have been any older than your own. Most of the crows you had captured were all old and gray, not nearly as attractive and brooding as this one.

You didn't know there was such a thing.

"Where'd you find this one?" you whispered to Ygritte, your voice low enough for only her ears, your eyes raking over his figure that seemed disproportioned from the thick of the furs and leathers he wore.

"About a few miles north of the wall," she told you, watching him just as closely as you were. "He was just too pretty to pass up." The two of you shared a laugh as she handed you the young crow's sword, heavy and dull in its scabbard.

The Lord of Bones pushed him roughly towards the man sitting in the center of the tent, biting into a hunk of meat as if it were his last meal.

"I smell a crow," Tormund muffled with his mouth full, turning his head barely enough to get a good look at the young man. His scowl hadn't changed, if anything worsened since being shoved into the large tent.

His name had been Jon Snow, which he revealed to Tormund just before kneeling before him and muttering your grace. The entire tent seemed to bustle with laughter at the attempt of respect, you and Ygritte sending each other a knowing look as the crow's face reddened with embarrassment. Tormund may have looked and fought like one, but he was no king.

"Stand boy," a voice hidden in the back of the tent sounded, silencing everyone in the room within a matter of seconds. Your father, Mance Rayder, unveiled himself from the shadowy corner room behind Tormund, looking down upon Jon Snow as he stood.

Jon was quick to rise to his feet, looking up at him as the man stood taller than even Tormund. "We don't kneel for anyone beyond the wall."

Slowly, you moved towards your father from Ygritte's side, resting your hands on the hilt of the crow's sword as you allowed it to stand in front of you. Your father always valued your opinion when coming to decisions over the free folk, and this matter was no different.

Your eyes had hardened by now, catching Jon's gaze with a look that could only be interpreted as defensive. No matter how pretty you thought he was, he was still a man of the Night's watch. Your enemy infiltrating your land.

You watched him carefully as he went on to explain why he had left the Night's Watch, telling your father about the things he had seen in Craster's Keep.

"And why would that make you want to abandon your brothers?" Mance asked, his voice low and gravelly. His words seemed to intimidate the young man, his eyes flitting away from your father's before moving back to them hesitantly.

"Answer the question," you growled, leaning in towards him with a malice that couldn't help but send a chill down his spine. His eyes shot to yours, wondering why you were making such commands in the presence of Mance Rayder.

He explained how the Night's Watch did nothing to prevent Craster from giving up his newborn son to the white walkers, creatures that had been known to be gone for centuries.

"I want to fight for the side that fights for the living," he told your father, sparing you only a quick look as you stepped back to Mance's side. "Did I come to the right place?"

Mance mulled over the boy's words before looking down at you, the look on his face clear that he wanted your opinion. "What do you say, girl? Shall the baby crow stay?"

As you held his sword close to your chest, you stepped closer to Jon, your face inches from his as you gave him a good look over. He seemed nervous, his breathy shaky as it blew past his lips.

"I say he can," you paused, circling around him before meeting his gaze once more with a sly smrik on your lips. "But he stays with me."

He didn't speak much to you at first―or anyone really―only saying a few words when needed to and biting his tongue when you made some snide remark or called him a crow.

Since you had taken the responsibility of monitoring him, you practically stuck to Jon like glue until nightfall―as did many other girls in your camp, including Ygritte. She was an exception, but you had to keep running the rest of them off since their eagerness to catch a glimpse of him drove them to fights and quarrels in the snow.

Not to degrade any of the people in your camp, but men that looked like Jon Snow were not a common sight in free folk territory.

After showing him around the camp and getting him a new set of furs made of polar bear skin and boiled leather, you eventually gave him Longclaw back―which was what he called that heavy sword of his. He was grateful, but his disgruntled frown hardly left his face.

"Lose the frown, Jon Snow," you had told him as he joined you and Ygritte for dinner around the fire you had built near your tent. "You're not in the South anymore. There's no need to look so miserable."

When nightfall finally took the sky, you escorted Jon to your tent with a mischievous smirk on your face, earning looks from other wilding girls―most of them being of annoyance or jealousy. Their glares didn't go unnoticed by Jon, a look of confusion and concern evident on his face.

"Are they always like this?" he asked sheepishly, looking over his shoulder as the two of you stood still in front of the flaps of your tent.

You couldn't help but laugh, the scowls on their faces feral and sour as you led him into your tent.

"You're the first pretty crow they've seen in ages, Jon Snow," you told him with a grin. "They'll claw each other's eyes out to lay naked with you."

Your words seemed to surprise him, but he didn't say anything as a reddish tint rose in his cheeks. He had never been with a girl, he was too young before he joined The Watch, and his vows forbade him from lying with a woman. He had never gotten the chance, so the idea couldn't help but intrigue him.

"Your furs are over there," you pointed to the makeshift bed across from yours, "Though I know you'll be far much warmer over here with me."

He disregarded your comment, silent as he made his way over to his side of the tent and tried not to think too hard about laying with you.

It wasn't a large tent, your furs only a mere few feet from his. You still laid rather close despite being on separate sides.

Beginning to undo your outer layers and shedding them off, you were left in only a thin undershirt and pants that barely left anything to the imagination as you sat across from him.

Jon's eyes widened.

You could feel his eyes on you, his cheeks flushed at the sight of your hardened nipples poking through the fabric as you reached over to light a few candles between the two of you to brighten up the tent. He felt a sting of guilt run through his chest; he didn't want to betray his vows, or even think about betraying them, but you were making it very difficult for him to abstain on his side of the tent.

"What, have you never seen a woman's body before, crow?" you said playfully as you undid your hair from the braid it had been pulled back in all day, tousling it with your tired fingers to get ready for bed.

Jon only widened his eyes, gulping rather harshly as his lips parted, catching your eyes that seemed to be filled with nothing but seduction.

"What do you care?" he looked away, the tension too much for him to bare. His cheeks were flaming red at this point, embarrassment flaring in his chest. He could feel his hard-on begin to grow under his thick trousers, hoping to the Old Gods you couldn't see.

"Oh, right," you said sarcastically. "The Night's Watch will hack your hand off if you even think about touching a woman, is that right? Miserable bastards."

Jon tried to protest, his words caught dead in his mouth as you cut him off abruptly.

"Have you ever laid with a woman, Jon Snow?" you asked lowly, sitting up from your spot on your warm furs before slowly starting to crawl over to him, sultry laced thickly in your voice.

He shook his head, his eyes wide and blown out with lust. You were dangerously close to him, sitting down in front of him with your legs tucked neatly beneath you as you leaned in towards him.

"Do you want to?" you said slyly, your lips inches from his.

Your hand slowly reached out for his, grasping it gently before bringing it to your breast and allowing him to cup it. A shaky sigh blew past his plump lips, his gaze flitting down to your chest as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your sensitive nipple gently.

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think. Before he could remember the vow that he had made not long ago. Your sweet scent of firewood and pine was like truth serum to his senses. "More than anything."

His gentle, pleading words were enough for you to bring your lips to his, enveloping in the taste of him as you moved swiftly onto his lap, lips moving in sync hungrily as if he would be your last.

His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard chest. As you lowered your hips down onto his lap, you could feel him hard against your core, making you gasp in surprise.

You laughed gently under your breath in excitement as his eyes fluttered shut, not being able to help yourself as you began to slowly grind against him, earning a low and shaky whimper from his throat.

It was like music to your ears; his soft whimpers and pants. When you had been with other wildling men, they grunted and groaned as they worked their way in and out of you, almost animalistic. Jon was different.

"Do you like it when I do this?" You cooed in his ear. His moans were soft and desperate as he yearned for more of your touch, his hands gentle and needy as they grasped at your hips and worked you across his lap slowly.

He had no idea how much of an effect it had on you. How his exasperated pants made something foreign blossom in your chest and spread down to your lower half.

"Please," he begged as he pulled away from your lips, looking up at you with an adoration you had never seen from any free folk. You had him wrapped around your finger, drunk on your warm touch. Nothing could've riled you up more.

"You can have me however you want," you promised him, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. Slowly, you pulled your undershirt off over your head before wriggling out of your thin pants, leaving your body bare and on display for him. "You're mine now, Jon Snow."

Your hand traveled down slowly between your bodies, running over the front of his trousers and cupping his hard-on, dancing your fingers across it tauntingly. "But first, let me help you with this."

Your fingers quickly worked at the ties at his trousers, pulling it open and helping him get rid of them before assisting him in removing his heavy furs and leathers and throwing them to the side, leaving him bare and warm beneath you, his pale, toned skin burning against your own.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, sitting at the edge of his knees so you could get a good look at him splayed out before you. Excitement buzzed in your chest at the sight of his reddened tip, leaking with precum practically begging to be touched.

With a soft look, your hand grasped his hardened cock gently, making him shudder at the sudden contact.

The feeling was foreign to him; Sure, he had used his own hand once or twice to relieve himself when he was feeling desperate, but his calloused and thick hands didn't compare to your small, soft, and experienced ones as you began to pump him gently.

"O-Oh," he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as you rubbed him carefully, allowing your forehead to press gently to his. You could feel his soft, warm pants fanning against your face, gentle moans falling from his lips every so often.

"You're so good for me," you whispered to him, your thumb running over the slit at the head of his cock, earning a shaky gasp from him. Your lips peppered kisses against his, before moving slowly to his cheeks and working your way down his jaw tauntingly.

The feeling of your lips leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along the skin of his neck and collarbone made him ecstatic. He didn't know what he had done to earn such a heavenly gift from the gods, but he knew he never wanted this to end. He never wanted to be without your touch.

"F-Fuck," he whined, entranced by the look of desire in your eyes as you rubbed him.

His toned stomach contracted gently, his abs tensing as he inched closer and closer to his release. His moans became more guttural, incoherent mumbles to the sound of your name filling your ears.

"I'm g-gonna-" he warned, his eyes fluttering shut. But, before he could finish his sentence, hot, white spurts of his release shot onto his stomach, painting him sinfully as a shaky groan rumbled in his chest in response. It lit something inside you, the way he trembled beneath your touch and moaned your name as if it were a prayer. You could drown in it.

Carefully, you reached for the undershirt you had thrown off and wiped his stomach clean, not caring you had dirtied it and would have to wash it by hand on the morrow.

A calm silence fell between you, allowing his forehead to fall to the crook of your neck as his hands snaked around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. Your warmth was something he wanted to live in forever. He never wanted to leave this tent.

"You're so-" he mumbled against your skin, his breath faltering as he tried to find the right words. "You're so good at that."

You couldn't help but blush. The way he worshipped you made you ecstatic, your hands raking through his dark curls as you tilted his head up to look at you.

"Can I kiss you?" he rasped. His eyes were full of want, his eyebrows pulling together slightly as he pawed at the flesh of your thigh. Carefully, you moved to bring your lips to his with a wide grin but he stopped you, pulling his head to the side tauntingly.

He shook his head gently. "Not there."

You didn't understand what he meant. Kiss you where?

Cautiously, he pulled you off of his lap and laid you down on the soft furs, his body hovering over yours as he slotted himself in between your legs.

He began to make his way down your body with gentle kisses, nipping at your supple skin as he trailed from the crook of your neck to all the way down between your plush thighs, leaving little love bites in the wake of his mouth as he inched dangerously close to where you needed him most.

"Getting brave, aren't we?" you taunt, his hands moving to tuck your legs onto his shoulders before he gripped your hips with both of his hands firmly, holding you in place as you could feel his warm breath fanning against your glistening core.

He ignored your snide remark, wasting no time before licking a clean stripe against your cunt and beginning to work away at you, his eyes fluttering shut at the sound of your euphoric moans.

Your face contorted with pleasure as you felt his lips wrap around your clit, gently sucking at it, before cautiously bringing his middle and ring fingers to your core and allowing them to curl in an upward motion blissfully.

You had never felt anything like this before. The way his tongue moved against your folds made you ecstatic, wondering what they put in the southern water to make him so good at what he was doing.

"J-Jon," you gasped, your fingers combing through his dark locks and giving them a good tug, earning a moan from him as it vibrated against your core and only pushed you closer to your high. Your thighs clenched around his head in an attempt to pull him closer to you, the tip of his nose brushing up against your clit just enough to make you jolt with a shaky gasp.

He enticed moans out of you like never before, licking and sucking at your core in ways you didn't even know were possible. He seemed so skilled for claiming to have never touched a woman before. Could he have been lying to you?

Your eyes practically rolled to the back of your head as you saw his hips begin to grind slowly against the furs as he lapped away at your core, his cock hard once more from the sweet taste of you. Moans grumbled in his chest as he squeezed your thighs tighter, his fingers sure to leave bruises on your supple skin.

The abrupt feeling of his fingers pulling out of your core made you whine. But his tongue entering you was enough to make you see stars, your back arching up off the soft furs as you could feel the tight coil in your stomach begin to snap.

Your wanton moans filled his ears, loud enough to be heard by the rest of the camp, but you didn't care. Your only concern was him and your climax—which wasn't far off.

"Gods!" your heel dug into the middle of his muscular back as you gripped the furs at your side, your orgasm washing over you unlike ever before. Your thighs trembled gently around Jon's head, his mouth pulling away from your core, his chin glistening with your release as he watched you with a lazy smile while you writhed in pleasure before him.

He pulled himself up so he was hovering over you once more, his face a mere few inches from yours as your chest heaved up and down, coming down from your high. Your eyelids felt heavy as he gripped your hip, and the sheer look of lust in his eyes made your lips crash against his hungrily.

You could taste your release on his lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth, not even thinking before wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over on the furs, now sitting on his lap as he laid breathlessly beneath you.

You smiled at the way he looked up at you with want, his hands playing with the flesh of your ass impatiently. His hardened cock beneath your wet core made it hard for you to concentrate, but you still managed to roll your hips against his tauntingly.

"Just lay there, sweet. Let me give you what you want," you rasped, your hands splayed flat on his chest as your teasing became nearly unbearable for him.

"Please," he pleaded. "I need to feel you."

Slowly, you brought your hand to grasp him gently, giving him a few pumps before guiding him towards your entrance as you hovered over him, your eyes not leaving his as you sank down onto him.

Relieved moans left your mouths in unison, your cunt stretching around him sweeter than he could imagine. Your warmth made his heart flutter, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he waited for you to move.

Soft whimpers filled the space between you as your hips slowly began to roll across his lap, your nails raking down the front of his toned chest as you fell into a steady pace. His mind was fogged with the sheer sight of you on top of him, finding the gentle bounce of your breasts with every movement entrancing.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he breathed, his head falling back as he screwed his eyes shut, which couldn't help but send a wave of pleasure straight to your core. You couldn't help yourself when your fingers trailed to your clit and began to rub the sensitive bundle of nerves back and forth, clenching around his length with each roll of your hips.

"Gods," he cursed, sitting up from his spot on the soft furs as you still guided your hips back and forth on his cock.

Your arm automatically slung around his broad shoulders as his own pulled you closer to him by your waist while he propped himself up with his free hand, allowing him to thrust up inside of you and reach deeper than before.

The way the tip of his cock just barely brushed your cervix enraptured you. You were finding it very hard to believe that he had never done this before.

"Right there," you panted out, gripping his bare shoulder so hard your fingernails were sure to leave tiny crescent indents in his skin. His pace quickened, slowly becoming more desperate and sloppy as your moans grew with it. You were sure the entire camp could've heard the lot of you by now.

His lips met yours in an instant, a poor attempt on Jon's part at silencing you as best he could. You allowed his tongue to roam your mouth, your fingers collecting at the nape of his neck to hold him closer to you. But to his surprise―with a sudden thrust of his hips―your teeth caught his bottom lip with a moan.

"Ahh," he hissed, the metallic taste of blood collecting at the front of his mouth. He pulled back, panting heavily as the look of lust didn't leave his eyes. Your lips were reddened and wet, and the way your tongue poked out barely to wipe them clean made a low groan rumble in his chest.

Within an instant, he smashed his lips back onto yours, pushing you back so you were laying flat on the furs now with his hips between your legs, his length still inside of you as he wasted no time to begin a steady pace pistoning in and out of you messily.

"Jon!" you moaned, his cock stretching you perfectly with each thrust. His lips attacked at the supple skin of your neck, peppering little love bites trailing down over your collarbone. You could feel him wince between moans against your skin as your nails dug into his back uncontrollably, leaving long, reddened welts along his pale skin.

Your fingers trailed slowly up to his hair, giving it a good tug as you brought his lips to yours. Your movements earned a low grumble in the back of his throat in response, his hips beginning to stutter as he could feel his climax rising.

You weren't far off either, with his sweet, incandescent moans that made the coil in your stomach tighten filling your ears. "Are you gonna come for me, baby?"

A guttural moan ripped through Jon's throat at your soft whispers, unable to form words as he nodded his head breathlessly. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you, his last few thrusts hard and deep before pulling out of you—just enough to send you over the edge of your high.

You swiftly propped yourself up on your elbows, breathless from your climax as he pumped his shaft a few times before releasing himself all over your stomach and chest. His face contorted with pleasure as you watched him with amazement, a sly smirk creeping on your face as he came hard.

A gentle silence fell between the two of you as he caught his breath, moving to lay next to you on the soft furs and wrapping his arm around your waist before pulling you close to his side. His warmth burned against your cheek as you laid your head on his chest, running your fingers lazily across his skin.

"You were right," he whispered against your hair, pressing a kiss to your head as you snuggled your face into the crook of his neck. You smiled against his skin, "How so?"

You lifted your head up, meeting his darling brown eyes as a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm far much warmer with you."

[koostattoos]

➳ wait for your love || j.jk (teaser)

~ Synopsis: simply loving is not enough

~ Genre: strangers to friends(?) to lovers, college au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

~ Warnings: jk is a fuckboy, he plays too damn much 😔, smut (big dick!jk, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), soft sex, multiple sex scenes, etc.), lots of crying and pining, all she wants is to be loved 💔, she a baddie 😛, she standing on business (as she should), more to come

~ teaser wc: 1.2k

• currently play: we can’t be friends (wait for your love) by Ariana Grande and opera house by Cigarettes After Sex

A small crowd of students file into the quiet library. Books surround you with knowledge of classes that you are taking. A pencil clad in your hand as you think of more notes to write down on your notebook in front of you. Jungkook has been texting you since the day he took you out. Asking you random questions throughout the day, but to your surprise he hasn’t said a single thing about your number. 

You jump a bit in your seat when the chair in front of you screeches against the floor. When you look up you see Jungkook’s handsome face, a chuckle coming from his lips at your reaction. “Hi” he says in a whisper. Shaking your head at him you go back to writing your notes. “How did you know I was here?” He watches as you write down words on your piece of paper. His tattooed hand reaches out and starts playing with the edge of the paper and you look up at him. “I was on my way to get some lunch and saw you through the window, you don’t work today?” his head tilts to the side like a puppy dog. You shake your head, “No, I have a day off today and I wanted to spend it studying. But I can’t do that with you bothering me” he rolls his eyes and lets go of the paper. 

It’s silent for only a minute before he starts speaking again. “When will you be done?” He's like a nagging child, always in need for attention. You let out a sigh of frustration and put your pencil down beside the notebook. “You don’t have any other friends you can annoy?” a small pout forms on his lips. Sulking, because of your attitude. 

“I wanna hang out with you” he says, ignoring him you return your attention back to your paper and try one more time to focus on studying. Opening one of the books lying beside you. A loud groan comes from the grown man in front of you and you quietly slam the book shut. “Fine! What do you want to do,” placing your remaining things into your bag and you stand from your chair to pull it over your shoulder. Jungkook beats you to it, though. Placing the white tote bag over his shoulder and carrying it out with him. Puffing a breath of air out you follow him to the door.

The weather is nice today, it wasn’t too hot like those other summer days. It seems to be cooling down as it gets closer to fall. “Where are we eating?” you ask behind him. He turns his head to look back at you and slows his pace down to match yours. “This place that serves the most delicious pork belly,” his posture straight, determined to get to the restaurant as fast as possible. Before he came into the library he had already been planning to ask you out to lunch with him. 

He was originally planning on walking to the cafe you worked at, so he had been waiting a while. When you walk into the restaurant you are hit with the warm air with the scent of meat floating in the air. To your surprise it wasn’t as busy as you’d expected it to be considering it being lunch hour. Jungkook picks out a table in the middle of the restaurant. Taking a seat in front of him, he grabs a menu that had already been placed there and picks out his favorite dishes. 

“Hello, what can I get started for you guys today?” The server walks up to the table with a notepad and pencil in his hand. His attention is drawn to you first. You look up at him and give him a sweet smile. His hair was wavy and dimples showed whenever he smiled. You look down to your hands resting on the table and you look at Jungkook. His stare already on you, clearing his throat he begins to order. 

Once it is written down on the notepad the waiter grabs the menus from the table. “I’ll be out shortly with your food” You nod your head politely and bring your attention back to the man in front of you. “You still haven’t given me another hint” He brings up again. Sighing with a smile on your lips you slightly shake your head at him. “You are never going to give up, are you?” 

“Nope, I’m determined” 

“Why? Is my Instagram not enough?” You say tilting your head. 

“No, it’s not. Are you gonna give me another hint or what" Sass can be heard in his tone. Instead of having the poor boy go on for ages figuring out your number you give him the first six digits. “Fine, I’m starting to feel bad for you now. I’ll give more than one number” At this his eyes light up like the galaxy. Excitement growing in his chest and a smile that brings out his dimples appear on his face. 

Laughing at his excitement you write down on a piece of napkin you pull from the box next to you. ‘823257’ written in bold ink with a pen you grabbed from your bag. You fold it up and slide it over to Jungkook’s side of the table. “There, now you need to find the last four” Now feeling a bit more relieved he stuffs the napkin deep into the pockets of his jacket. The food is brought out and the same waiter places it on the table in front of you. 

“Thank you” you tell him with that same smile you gave him earlier. Blush begins to grow on his pale cheeks and he bows, walking away to serve other tables. Scoffing Jungkook looks away from the boy and takes the scissors from the tray, cutting up the meat. “What was that look for?” you say to him picking up a pair of utensils. “Nothing” he says you laugh lightly at his pouty lips. 

The sizzling of the meat on the grill resounds and smoke lifts into the air from the hot pan. “Do you think it’s cheating if another man helps separate your perilla leaf for you with his chopsticks if you’re already with someone?” The ridiculous question gets you to chuckle. “I don’t think so, why does it matter if you're just going to end up eating it anyway?” you say, taking a piece of meat he grilled and placed on your plate for you into your mouth. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he chews on the pork belly and his legs jump a little under the table. “It does matter! I feel like it's cheating plain and simple. If I were dating someone it should only be me helping you. Not some other guy that you happen to be friends with” 

“Whatever you wanna believe, Jeon. But personally, I really don’t care. As long as I have food in my mouth then I’m happy” you say as you stuff your mouth with rice. 

The check comes around when you finish eating. You go to grab the piece of paper but, once again, Jungkook beats you to it. “Yah, I’m the one who brought you out to eat. I should be the one paying for it” he held the paper away from you. Slumping in your seat you cross your arms across your chest. “But it’s expensive, let me help pay half” With a proud smile Jungkook signs off on it and gives it to your waiter. “Too late, already paid for” he sends you a sly grin and you let out a puff of air.

a/n: finally ya'll it's been wayyy to long since i've published a story. i have so many ideas for this one and I really like how it'll turn out!! i love you guys <33

also!! If you'd like to be apart of 'wait for your love’ taglist click this link!!

[dark-and-kawaii]

Knotted

Raphael x F!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ 18+

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary/Request: “Write Raphael knotting reader you coward”

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY SINNER!!! *winks*

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Knotting| Rough | Choking | Mind Break | Belly Bulge

You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dig your nails into his chest attempting to slow down his rhythm, but to no avail. You bounce back on him like your life depends on it when he speeds up, chanting his name between pants.

“R~Raph~Raphael~, s’too- too m-much,” you choke out, only to feel him turn you over in the sheets, jerking up your hips as he positions himself behind you. Your voice nothing more than a whimper, your lashes adorned with tiny droplets of tears. They threaten to fall any second at the stretch, the feeling of being filled by your devil. At the searing pain as he forcefully reenters you, emitting a low growl and firmly grasping a handful of your hair.

The pain only heightens the pleasure, your cries going from breathy and needy to louder, more desperate. He fucks you like an animal, his face pressed against your nape as his breath caresses your skin. His horns digging into the side of your head. He can smell your arousal, hear your heart hammering away and feel your wetness slicking up his cock as he fucks into you.

He bites down on your shoulder hard enough to draw blood, and the cry that leaves your throat makes his cock twitch and his thrusts get more erratic. The sight of your delicate crimson flow is so pretty, captivating enough to enthrall Raphael for hours on end without ever losing interest.

He wants you to come, to milk him dry. The way your walls clench around him drives him crazy, his grip tightening. He lets go of your hair and wraps his arm around your middle, pressing your back into his chest as he ruts into you. His other hand cages your neck, your blood slipping from the corner of his mouth.

His scorching tongue laps at the rivulets of your blood, and then another sharp bite follows, triggering a surge of scorching warmth that coils your stomach. Your body instinctively arches, releasing a guttural scream. The intensity overwhelms you, causing pain and pleasure to meld into an intoxicating fusion. It's an exquisite agony, so damn satisfying. Your head spins, leaving you dizzy and consumed.

Your legs tremble and you can feel your walls tighten around him. He fucks you through your orgasm, not once letting up on his pace, “You take it so well for such a tiny little thing,” he fucks you into the mattress relentlessly, balls hitting you with each pump as you cling to the hand wrapped around your throat. Your hands shaking, hair clinging to your face while you try to keep your mind from breaking. His voice, his smell, his presence; all of him consumes you.

“Cum for me again, little pup.” It’s an order. One that has your tears falling down your cheeks as he slips the hand from your neck to between your legs and rubs your sore, overstimulated clit hard and fast.

Your walls contract sharply in response to his touch, eliciting a blinding explosion of white that engulfs your vision once again. Your pussy desperately clings to the relentless thrusting of his cock, but he shows no mercy, continuing to rub and penetrate you. The world around you becomes hazy, distant, as all your focus narrows down to Raphael's cock stretching your tight little pussy.

He treats you like a piece of meat, fucking you with an unyielding intensity, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, a wicked grin on his face. The thrusts relent slightly, allowing you a brief moment to catch your breath, and the first sound that escapes your lips is a sobbing, pathetic, “Raphy-s’can-can’t take-mhm-more.”

He chuckles darkly, “More?” he pulls your head to the side as you try to shake your head. “My little mouse wants more?”

“Noooo~ p-plea-,” Your resistance crumbles, your defiance fading the moment his engorged head relentlessly collides with your cervix, driving you deeper into the mattress. All that remains is a mixture of cries, whimpers, and moans as you surrender to the relentless rhythm of his hips, too exhausted, sore, and thoroughly fucked out to muster anything else.

Raphael can tell how weak you are, how much you can take before you break. The sight of you under him, your face covered in drool and tears as you take every inch of his cock. He’s lost track of how long he’s been at it with you, and neither does he care. You belong to him now, and he plans to savor every second.

Your body contracted on his cock yet again, your fingers curling, until your nails dug into him. Something was pressing against your sex and your scream hitched in volume as you felt it suddenly shove into you, locking your body to his. A- A knot?

You felt full, so full. You looked down to see the bulge in your lower stomach, your eyes widening. Raphael didn't let up, and the bulge went higher with each thrust. Raphael kept thrusting as much as he could, pulling his knot back and forth inside of you. His teeth finding your shoulder to lock you in place even further.

“RAAPHAEL~” tongue lolling out, your body spasms, and it's all too much. The pressure of his knot, his sharp teeth piercing your skin, your blood trickling down from your neck to his silk sheets while the blood from your shoulder trails down your back. The feeling of his cock pushing and rubbing, it felt as if he was rearranging your guts into a mess. Everything almost becomes numb, and you're sure your brain has stopped functioning.

You could feel it, spurt after spurt of his hot milky seed soaking your insides. Filling you up completely. Your devil holds you there, grinding his hips to yours while he pumps his heir inside of you. His teeth on your shoulder deepening.

And you swore you could feel his hot sticky sperm invading your womb. Feel the tip of his cock pressing and massaging against your cervix. With your lips sealed by his throbbing, fat knot, little of the massive amount of his seed leaves your pussy.

You can't help but imagine his potent cum entering your womb, the flood of it invading your space, seeking to impregnate you. Even if some fail, his sperm will continue to writhe in your womb for days, hunting for an egg to penetrate.

You were still knotted to Raphael, although he'd finally laid down, covering your body with his own but leaned to the side so he didn't crush you. His arms around you, his wings enveloping you, holding you in place as his hips rock forward. You're too exhausted to say anything, to even move, and all you can do is just stay there and take it as he goes again.

The question in your head repeated itself as you closed your eyes, did you just become a devil's bitch?

… And did you care...?

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| Your Salaryman Husband | (Vol 1)

Vol 2 Vol 3 Vol 4 Vol 5 Vol 6 Vol 7 Vol 8 Vol 9

Salaryman!Kento x Housewife!Reader;

Nanami puts on an apron to help his cute little housewife prepare dinner.

Word Count: 1k

CW: SFW, domestic fluff, fem!reader, newly married Nanami and Y/n,

A/n: First time writing for Kento... thanks for reading!

Your dear husband Kento Nanami was not one to come home late. Ever. 

Even though it had only been about two months since your marriage, the daily routine had already been set, and you couldn't imagine that happening in a decade, let alone on the next day. 

Of course that wouldn't be true in his past profession, as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but he was back being a salaryman, never going to extra meetings or taking on any more jobs than his work contract required him to. Hence he rushed home, avoiding that dreaded overtime that the younger company members fought for. Even then it took a lot out of him.

Mr. Kento Nanami was a diligent worker from 9 o'clock in the morning to 5 o'clock in the afternoon. A senior manager at an investment company, his pure skill and dedication was the only way he could get that position. He never tried to do anything more than what he had to, which was providing customers with the best investment services he could. And you, the new Mrs. Nanami was his lovely housewife, always there to greet him when he got home. It was always the most comforting thought he had, while listening to the executives drone on about profits, and training the newcomers eager to reap those rewards as well. But then again, that is why he was in that business too, right? 

As per usual, he quickly packed up his things and headed to the elevator right after the hour hand hit 5 on his watch. Ideally he would be home in the next thirty minutes, far more eager than his other coworkers. A promotion was not awaiting him since his marriage, but that wasn’t a concern. He had enough saved up for an early retirement anyway, and, more importantly, one would take away from his precious time with you.

While his heart beat was steady, walking to the train station as he did everyday, yours was much more rampant.

Rushing around the kitchen, you hurriedly washed and cut vegetables, meat, and ground spices as fast as you could. Dinner was expected to be served at about 6:00 pm that night, and afterward would be a relaxing evening with your husband, who would be done for the week. While the daily routine was solidified, the speed of your cooking was not. Especially when your carefully laid out schedule of repotting the plants, cleaning the bathrooms, and doing laundry took a bit too long for each one. It was already 5:15, and you had just popped the tarts into the oven. 

Today's dinner consisted of a thick stew, crusty white bread, and miniature fruit tarts for dessert. With some preparations the day before, it was a plan that should have taken about two hours, most of which would be idle cooking time. That of course, did not happen. 

Your usual greeting of your husband at the door was foiled for the first time. He opened the door promptly at 5:33 PM, about the same time as every day, yet for once you weren't there.

Setting his briefcase down and removing his jacket, he walked through the living room into the kitchen, hearing your not-so-subtle whines of frustration, the scent of sweet fruit and grilled meat filling the air.

Married life is full of firsts, many of which were known to you and Nanami alike. Your first kiss being married, your first date being married, among other things. But what he didn't expect to focus on were the little ones he saw everyday. The first time you screwed up your daily routine, of course, and the first time he got to see you cooking his dinner in your cute little apron.

You quickly turned around hearing Nanami enter the kitchen. "Kento..!" you muttered, knife in hand chopping vegetables with great fervor. He chuckled softly, your knuckles had turned white from the grip, and carrots rolled off the cutting board.

He strolled over to the cabinet, pulling out a simple white apron, not before giving you a quick kiss on the cheek from behind you. "I see you've been quite busy today, my love," he put the apron over his head and tied it in the back, before turning towards your work.

His knees dug into your thighs, as he reached around your body and grabbed the knife from your hand. "How about I finish this for you?" he asked, already starting to chop away. "Aren't you tired from work? You can go sit down, darling," you tried to move away from him, though he gripped your stomach lightly with his other arm, pausing his work. "It's not tiring at all, standing here with you, my cute wife."

He put his head on top of yours, enjoying your warmth and the scent of food cooking, what you've been toiling away with for the past few hours. “I might not be as good of a cook as you, my love, but I think my knife skills are decent enough.” He continued, making quick work of the pile of vegetables. "Darling, the tarts are burning," you gently pushed him away, rushing over to the oven and pulling them out.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you. I'll make sure to be there tomorrow." you spoke softly, lifting the tarts onto the cooling rack. "I was wondering where my wife's face was. I see you've had quite the predicament in here," Nanami scraped all the vegetables in the pot, and covered it with water as instructed. It would still be about half an hour until done, being finished only 15 minutes late thanks to his help. 

Nanami stared deeply as you joined him in the living room. Your fingers carefully undid the tie of your apron, as you started to take it off. "Have I ever told you how good you look in that?" He mentioned, standing up off the couch. You yelped, as he helped to pull it off your head. "...Thank you, darling. You look very dashing in one as well." You muttered, a subtle blush coating your cheeks. 

"I look forward to seeing you wear it tomorrow, my love." He chuckled as he sat down at the dining table, ready for the dinner you prepared together.

[effervescentcvnt]

cw: cnc, kidnapping

i knew i shouldn't have gone wandering in the woods at night but my curiosity got the better of me. the horror with entirely too many eyes, teeth and arms that haunts the forest caught me, threw me over their shoulder as i struggled futilely, completely helpless against their strong hands.

they carried me to their lair, a remote cave where no other villager could find us - and where no one could hear my screams. they were in heat, desperate for a warm cunt to bury themself into to relieve some of that pressure, painting the insides of my pussy white with their cum.

the beast kept me in a small cage when they weren't using me, often waking me up by groping my soft body, knowing i'd be unable to resist. they wrapped a collar around my neck so they could tug on my leash whenever they needed my attention, and i'd always be more than happy to provide. i kept their cock warm, my hole constantly leaking with their seed from them using it whenever they wanted, knowing that this is all i needed to be - a tiny toy for them to play with.

they took good care of me, too, feeding me fruit and berries and dried meat, bathing me and stroking my hair, decorating it with little flowers, applying healing ointments on any scrapes and bruises i had. and by the gods, i relished both the torment and the sweetness, every second of it.

[pigeonpeach]

Genshin WOMEN as cats!

Just pure fluff! Gender neutral reader

Characters included: Beidou, Candace Dehya, Eula, Ei, Jean, Lisa, Navia, Shenhe, Yae Miko

Jean

Oh so very stressed. Even once assured her state is temporary and will be reversed by tomorrow. For the day Lisa is left in charge as you must now try to get your catified wife to calm down. Tasty fish perhaps? In reality the real thing she need is a looooong nap. You must make her a comfortable bed, one plush and warm that makes her feel safe and loved aka your lap she wants to sleep on your lap and you have no choice but to oblige. And jean is a deep sleeper. Commonly does she get little sleep. So now that she can she basically sleeps the day away enjoying your pats and kisses.

Navia

Upon her relief that it is temporary she is a most silly kitty. She decides to go out to get fresh fish from Poisson, curious to see if it tastes better now that she’s a cat. You and her body guards must simply accompany her. You hold her on a plush pillow as she meows orders to you. A strange sight indeed for any passerbys. But nonetheless is she a verrry pretty kitty. Oh you cannot neglect her! She deserves many chin scratches and ear scratches too! And she expects them, politely bumping her head into you for more.

Lisa

She probably just goes back to sleep I’ll be real. Lisa probably concocted the ordeal herself for some experiment or just for fun. She will explore Mondstadt’s city. Expecting you to follow and buy her needs. If course being s tasty meal. Afterwards she can’t help but nap in the warm grass making you sit down with her. Before you know it you also take a nap.

Eula

How obscene! Herself? a cat?! Who dare do such a thing! She demands vengeance immediately! The world must know her wrath! You have a very vocal and very angry kitty on your hands so… maybe catnip would be useful? It helps immensely as she now acts like a silly little kitty who keeps dosing off. Once she’s back though she will seek vengeance upon you for daring to drug her in such s state! Even if it was for her benefit!

Beidou

The crew is more panicked than she is. Simply lounging about, eating fish. She sits on your lap like its a throne. A day off is very appreciated. She ends up overfed though as her crew worries about her. You have to physically stop her from eating her 7th fish in a row! She is small now she can’t eat a while shark like before! She ends up annoyed when she can’t drink with her men like before either. Oh well at least she has you. It’ll be a funny story to tell her friends back at shore.

Shenhe

Confused! She is however very calm. She tries to go about her day as normal but that doesn’t go well. She concludes that she should spend the day napping. You however want to spoil and pamper her as she’s so small and very very cute. A elegant white kitty! Your affections are not denied. She does enjoy the chin scratches. She loved her sides being pet. Just don’t let Cloud Retainer see otherwise she’ll freak out.

Ei

She is a cat? How so? How can this be? Fascinating? Unfortunately she must give up desserts for the day which is the most devastating news. Thunderstorms will be a plenty as she mopes having to endure one day of no sweets. She will pout and sulk. Not in your lap but instead resting against your thigh. She will try some fish but is repulsed by its non sweet flavor! How horrible!

Candace

Also very alarmed! She is a protector of Aaru Village! How can she give up one day. You end up contacting Dehya to take over as Candace tries to enjoy cat life. The sand in her toe beans is annoying. But for her the worst is eating unseasoned meat. Kitty stomachs cannot handle spices or advanced flavoring she oh so adores. How unfortunate for her. But at least she has you! You will have to find something entertaining for her to do. Maybe play with the kids or climb trees? Unlike the other catified women she won’t nap until tired. And she is a resilient woman. When she sees you tuckered out and sleeping however she joins you, resting on your chest.

Dehya

Worried but also kind of excited. What adventures can she have now? She wants to go all across sumeru but you make her settle on just sumeru city. She wants to try alot of things. Namely hunting! She’s hunted before sure but she wonders if its easier to be a cat? She aims for pigeons and cranes. With no success you decided to make her a hearty meal of chicken as compensation. Just then she managed to catch one! Oh she is so proud! Proudly showing off her catch with pride! You get to prepare it though, she isn’t interest in eating a mouthful of feathers. She’s also bummed out at no seasonings but hey she’s just proud she could catch something. She also very happy to spend this time with you. It’ll be a funny story to share.

Yae Miko

Unlike most of the ladies here, she is definitely doing this on purpose and is likely doing so for multiple days. She does so in order to get up to some silly mischief as her fox form has become too noticeable. She steals food all while getting away with it because she’s a cute kitty! She spies on rival writers, she causes drama between civilians. You end uo having to quarantine her until she turns back. Oh but then she goes back to mess with you! Is the kitty following you to work her or just a kitty? You’ll never know now. Your lap is never safe again!

[pedge-page]

You Please, My Pleasure

Sub! Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Sub!Joel, Mommy kink, cowgirl/riding, orgasm denial, over stimulation, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm control, reader’s hand makes a pretty necklace for Joel, themes of free use, objectification, praising words for Joel (sweet boy, etc), bitty breeding kink at end

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You sat In a community table at the cafeteria, over hearing a group of other women chattering about the men they'd been eying up:

"You seen that Joel Miller around?"

"Oh, he's hot as hell. I dont care how old he is."

"So protective, and strong, and firm. Jesus just look at him those broad, muscled shoulders and back. Bet he's a wild night."

"Shhh!"

"Im serious! The lucky girls he's probably pleasing..."

'Did you you hear he's apparently great with a gun."

He could ram his big gun in me any day."

"Shut up Claire! Oh my god."

"I just know it. Bet he could make you ache for days. Half the men here wouldn't compare to a guy like Joel in bed. I just have my own fingers to keep me barely satisfied, dreaming about a hunk like that."

"What about you?"

You hear your own named piped up, apparently leaning too far in to their conversation and now finding yourself included.

"Oh." You glance at the clock behind them, realizing you had to get back to your house instead of listening to the lady gossip of the town. "Luckily I just have my own toy to come home to..." and you escuse yourself with a gentle smile.

-

There was something beautiful about watching a strong, built, capable man like Joel Miller absolutely fall apart under you. The way his high pitched moans bounce within the confines of your bedroom, not one secret of his confessions ever leaving the safety of these four walls. His flush skin adorned in bright claw marks, almost a way of claiming him under those rugged clothes. His stomach tensing then releasing with each breathy pant, eyes rolling as he tries to hold on to the little control he has over his orgasms.

An unearthly sight. Just for you.

“Ah—ahh fuck!” He cries. Joel’s hips crash up against yours, shaking as he concentrates on starving off his orgasm.

You slow the rocking of your hips to gentle glides, your palm caressing the stubble of his cheek. “Shhhhhh, I know. I know. You’re bein’ so good tonight, baby.”

He nods with furrowed brows, eyes closed and head thrown back into the soft white pillow. His beautiful brown curls splayed out on the satin case like a god. “I’m—I’m bein’ so good,” he repeats, swallowing the lump in his throat as he feels himself regaining composure over the tight coil wound in his stomach.

“That’s right. That’s my good boy,” you praise. 

You start a slow rhythm again, softly bouncing on his thick cock that’s been teetering on the edge for an hour now, buried snugly in your suffocating pussy. 

“Good boy,” you coo again. “Mommy never leaves your aching cock neglected, huh? Let you live in my warm sopping pussy all day and night.”

“mmmm—yeah—yes Ma’am. Treatin’ me—s’good.”

You’ve trapped his body, your knees caging him between your legs. You can feel the tense quivers in his spread thighs, unable to do much as your ankles have wrapped back over the meat of them, pinning him below you. He can’t fuck up, can’t squirm. If he wanted to throw you off him, there’s no doubt the immense strength in him could. But he doesn’t. 

His hands are on your waist reassuringly, only to remind himself that you’re still here, guiding him through it. He’s gotten so much better at not taking back control, relinquishing his mind, body, and soul to you.

You feel the steady twitch of him inside you, dragging so deliciously along your walls, taking full advantage of his girth pushing to the crest of your womb. “You’re the best cock I’ve ever cum on.”

“Hahhhh, oohhhhhgggghhhh, tha—oh f-fuck!—thank you—“ he can’t help the slight canter of his own pelvis rolling up into you, brushing his tip along your cervix. “Thank you, Mommy. I—You feel so good—I feel—feel amazing, sweetheart. J-Jesus fuck. Love—love your tight pussy—choking’ my cock. Usin’—usin’ me.”

“Yeah? You like being my fucktoy?” The hand on his face slow glides to his mouth, your thumb hooking on the side and tugging before letting it spring back to place. You then push your fingers around his thick throat, the other hand planting firmly on his plush chest to hold you up. You don’t crush his neck, only leave your touch there as a warning. You ass slams down harshly on his fat cock, making him hiss, encouraging the new rough fucking you’re giving him. The room fills with the obscene slapping of skin against skin as you ride him harder.

“Yeah—yeah! Ye—ah fuck—fuck yes!” He croaks, teeth gritting as he stares you down with hooded eyes. “I l-love bein’ your little fuck stick. Comin’ home n’ fuckin’ me, fuckmefuckmefuckme!—turning’ me into y-your personal dildo. FUckMommy, yeah!”

His tongue sticks out, smiling hazily as his neck arches, head thrown further back, pushing him into your touch. He looked so fucking pretty wrapped around your fingers.

He doesn’t realize his hands have grasped at your breasts, squeezing them in his big hands. 

“Look at me,” you command, breathless yet still pulling your authoritative voice over him. His head snaps back, watching the way your body glistens on top of him with each bounce. Your hips were practically flush together, grinding down on him with precision. “Did I say you could touch my tits?”

He retracts his hands immediately, returning to their rightful place on your hips. “N-No, I’m sorry. I’m sorry Mommy, please.”

You tighten your grip around his throat. “You live— for my pleasure.”

He lets out a guttural groan from deep within his chest. “Yeah—yeah fu—oh fuck, shit—yes Mommy! squeezing’ me so tight, m’just for you, all yours, want you to feel so fuckin’ good, mmmm—” He’s nodding quickly, little wailing growls growing louder as you crash your pussy down on his weeping length over and over again. His lips are parted, fast short breaths being forced out as he feels his pleasure climbing.

“That’s right,” you pant, lost in the prickling feeling of your clit snagging against his pubic hair, smothering your throbbing nub.

“Nnffmmmm—I’m—I’m gonna cum, Mommy. Please, please tell me I can cum,” he whines.

You stop your hips entirely, ignoring the way his face curls into anguish and cries out pathetically. His body is shaking violently under you with the denial.

 You laugh wickedly in his face. “No, nonono, sweet boy.” You let him continue to whimper and quiver below, his cock twitching between your folds. You lean down and grip his hair, kissing him with your tongue invading his lips like a serpent in a rabbits den. You suck his bottom lip before pressing your foreheads together, rolling into a slow, devastating grind that has him seizing in near pain under you.

“I still want more cock.” 

Joel elicits a small whimper, reducing himself to nodding again. You cup around his cheek once more, a loving, natural tone slipping out of you. “Can you do that for me?”

 “Y-yes. Yes.” He coughs obediently, voice strained beyond recognition. 

You sit back up, both of your hands digging into his chest and start riding him more aggressively again. “Fuck me like you want to give me more cock.”

He gasps out a pained yelp. Joel’s beefy fingers clench your sides, nails pinching into your lower back. His knees bent, feet planted wide apart digging into the mattress to thrust up into you. He fucks you with vigor, ignoring his own pleasure too rapidly building inside him again in exchange to watch your tits bounce, hear your gorgeous voice flood the air with each powerful ram. 

“Ugh—oh yeah, baby that’s it!” You cry, tilting your head up to the ceiling. “Fuck me, fuck me so good, baby!”

But his hips are rutting too high, too fast, breath coming out too shallow. “Oh—oh god, I’m gonna—Mommy fuck I can’t! I can’t stop, I’m gonna—!”

“Don’t you dare fucking cum, Joel,” you snap. Your pussy contracts around the width of his cock in a death grip, unable to stop the aggressive back and forth grind as you chase your orgasm.

He’s shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut as you start to cum around him. 

“Oh f-fuCK I can’t—ICAN’T!—I’m—FUCKfuck!—“ His balls draw tight as he releases thick spurts of his seed, load after load filling your convulsing cunt as he forces out harsh pants through clenched teeth—“Mommy I’m sorry! I’m cumming! I can’t stop—I can’t stop fuckin’ cummin—ohjesus I’M CUMMING.” He’s absolutely pouring buckets, each throb of his cock inside you pushes more cum deep into your convulsing womb. The two of you are moaning together in high tune, though his even more desperate, slightly pained after being denied all night.

You settle before he does, eerily quiet atop him as his staggered breaths and fluttering chest calms. When the fog in his mind clears, his eyes fly open, shame washing over him at what he’d done.

“M-Mommy I—“

But you don’t listen, slowly driving back down with his spent cock sloshing in and out of your drenched cunt.

“Ah!” He yells, fingers tightening around your waist in a plea to stop the overstimulation. You yank his wrists off of you and pin them above his head. With each rock of your hips, you feel his stomach tensing and releasing, unsure of the overburdening sensation you’re forcing on his poor dick.

“mmmfffff—nnoo, Mommy, No more, please!”

You still ignore him, rutting your ass back down on his dick now that it’s fully erected again. His seed spills down the base of his cock, wet slaps overlapping with his pathetic pants.

“AURRgghhHH!! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He begs. “I’m—Mommy—fuck—fuck I can’t!”

“You can and you will.” You state plainly, pace continuing without falter.

His shaking digits desperately try to collide with the death grip around his wrists. “Please, please, how can I make it up to you??”

You smile inwardly. The desperation in his hoarse yet sweet voice, his shaking limps both squirming away and subconsciously thrusting back up in to your tight heat, more, less, more, he’s so unsure of the overstimulation wracking his bones. You liked this Joel. You want to keep this Joel. 

And he knows. 

“We’re not done until you fuck a baby in me.”

- - - -

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[mytaiyakeylover]

—𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

—ft: seishiro nagi x gn!reader, sae itoshi x gn!reader

—warnings: none, just some cursing on sae’s part.

𝚜𝚎𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚘 𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚒

seishiro is so lazy. the only time he ever decides to eat is whenever you agree to spoon-feed him. this boy is such a big baby, like, omg! he can't literally do anything without needing you to be there 25/8. and even then, he's not going to do much unless you put in just as much effort (if not more). don’t be mad! he just really enjoys being with you, and your presence is truly the only thing that can make this baby boy at least somewhat interested in whatever it is that you are doing. even in life-threatening situations like starvation.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Reo furrowed his eyebrows as he watched the white haired boy still very much occupied with the game in his hands. Seishiro hadn’t even glanced at his plate, let alone touched it.

“Come on, Nagi!” The boy exclaimed, his purple-colored eyes glaring at Nagi with a slight hint of annoyance. "We have practice today. You have to eat at least something," he added, feeling his left eyebrow twitch at the other’s response.

“But it’s such a hassle,” he mumbled, grayish eyes sparing one single glance at the food on his plate before going back to his game. The slightly shorter boy huffed at that. Sometimes he just couldn’t help but feel like he’s so done with this guy. Seishiro wasn’t exactly making things easier for him either, but he guessed it was a part of his charm.

Sighing dramatically, the boy with purple hair suddenly lifted himself from his seat and leaned slightly forward over the table. He took the other boy's knife and fork before cutting a piece of meat. However, it wasn't until a few seconds had passed that Seishiro finally acknowledged the food presented before him.

“Let me feed you, if you're going to continue being such a baby,” a pregnant pause soon followed as Reo muttered those words. Yet, instead of receiving the response that he’d been hoping for, it was one that almost made him scream at the top of his lungs.

“I want (Y/n)-chan to feed me.”

“Well, (Y/n)-chan is not here!”

𝚜𝚊𝚎 𝚒𝚝𝚘𝚜𝚑𝚒

this arrogant boy can’t physically stomach any food that has not been cooked by you and you alone. i swear! this has never been an issue before, until sae met you. now, he can't even distinguish between luxurious dishes and the ones that we ordinary humans eat. in his opinion, they all fall into the category of “peasant foods” and he will fr glare eye daggers at anyone who even dares to say otherwise.

“What the fuck is this?”

Ryusei stifled a laugh as he heard the boy from his right. His pink eyes observed the midfielder in amusement as the other boy stared at the food presented before him with nothing but pure disdain. The blonde and pink haired boy didn’t want to admit it, but a part of him was quite surprised as he thought those rumors about Sae being an abnormally picky eater were absolute bullshit.

Now it seemed they were not, because never had he ever seen the boy look at something with that much disgust. Not even at Ryusei himself.

“Something wrong?” The horny demon had the audacity to smirk as he feigned obliviousness. Sae narrowed his eyes dangerously at the other boy, right eyebrow twitching in annoyance. Sighing at Ryusei’s dumb antics, the reddish-brown haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose before sending the aforementioned an unimpressed look.

“I said: What the fuck is this?”

A sudden gasp escaped the tanned boy’s lips as he sent the other a look of bewilderment. “How can you not recognize the cooking of your oh so beloved s/o?”

“You’re telling me that (Y/n) was the one who made this disgusting, repulsive, nauseating, stomach-churning thing called food?”

There was a moment of silence, tension growing thicker by each passing second. The stare down between pink and teal so intense that random passers-by were too afraid to get caught in the crossfire to as much as walk past them.

However, as soon as the tension appeared, it quickly dissipated. Ryusei's expression exuded nothing but sheer brattiness, and Sae felt a strong headache coming on, anticipating where this was headed.

“Y’know, what you said just now really hurt my ego.”