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#wooden plate set
digitalvision05 · 7 months
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Gift Guide: Wooden Beer Mugs for the Beer Lover in Your Life
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Forget the cold, impersonal feel of glass or concrete. Wooden beer mugs offer a unique and sensory-rich alternative. But with so many styles and options available, choosing the perfect one can feel daunting. Fear not, fellow gift-giver! This guide will walk you through the world of wooden beer mugs, helping you find the ideal vessel to match your recipient's personality and preferences.
A Touch of Nature: Why Choose Wood?
Wooden mugs go beyond mere function; they're a statement piece. The natural beauty of wood adds a touch of rustic charm to any setting, while the material itself insulates your beer, keeping it cooler for longer. Plus, the unique grain and texture of each mug make it a one-of-a-kind treasure.
Navigating the Forest: Different Woods, Different Feels
The type of wood used plays a big role in the mug's aesthetics and performance. Popular choices include:
Oak:- Known for its durability and rich, golden tones, oak mugs offer a classic, timeless look.
Walnut:- This darker wood boasts a beautiful grain and imparts a subtle nutty aroma to your beer.
Cedar:- Lighter in color and weight, cedar mugs offer a natural, earthy feel and a hint of cedar fragrance.
Finding the Perfect Fit: Styles and Features
There's a wooden mug to suit every taste. Consider your recipient's preferences:
The Traditionalist:- Opt for a hefty tankard with a handle for a truly medieval vibe.
The Craft Beer Aficionado:- Choose a mug with a narrower mouth to concentrate the aromas of complex brews.
The Casual Enjoyer:- Select a lighter-weight mug for everyday use.
Personalization Power:- Making it Special
Engraving the recipient's name, initials, or a special message on their mug adds a sentimental touch that elevates it to a cherished heirloom.
Still Stumped? We Can Help!
Feeling overwhelmed by the choices? Don't fret! At The Brand Barrel, we specialize in helping you find the perfect wooden beer mug for any occasion. With our curation of high-quality, handcrafted mugs, you're sure to discover the ideal gift that will have them raising a toast in appreciation.
So, ditch the ordinary and embrace the rustic charm of wood. With the right mug, you're gifting more than just a vessel; you're gifting an experience, a conversation starter, and a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. What are you waiting for? Start crafting the perfect beer-soaked memory today!
P.S. What type of beer would your recipient pair with their new wooden mug? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
0 notes
digitalvision · 8 months
Text
Gift Guide: Wooden Beer Mugs for the Beer Lover in Your Life
Tumblr media
Forget the cold, impersonal feel of glass or concrete. Wooden beer mugs offer a unique and sensory-rich alternative. But with so many styles and options available, choosing the perfect one can feel daunting. Fear not, fellow gift-giver! This guide will walk you through the world of wooden beer mugs, helping you find the ideal vessel to match your recipient's personality and preferences.
A Touch of Nature: Why Choose Wood?
Wooden mugs go beyond mere function; they're a statement piece. The natural beauty of wood adds a touch of rustic charm to any setting, while the material itself insulates your beer, keeping it cooler for longer. Plus, the unique grain and texture of each mug make it a one-of-a-kind treasure.
Navigating the Forest: Different Woods, Different Feels
The type of wood used plays a big role in the mug's aesthetics and performance. Popular choices include:
Oak:- Known for its durability and rich, golden tones, oak mugs offer a classic, timeless look.
Walnut:- This darker wood boasts a beautiful grain and imparts a subtle nutty aroma to your beer.
Cedar:- Lighter in color and weight, cedar mugs offer a natural, earthy feel and a hint of cedar fragrance.
Finding the Perfect Fit: Styles and Features
There's a wooden mug to suit every taste. Consider your recipient's preferences:
The Traditionalist:- Opt for a hefty tankard with a handle for a truly medieval vibe.
The Craft Beer Aficionado:- Choose a mug with a narrower mouth to concentrate the aromas of complex brews.
The Casual Enjoyer:- Select a lighter-weight mug for everyday use.
Personalization Power:- Making it Special
Engraving the recipient's name, initials, or a special message on their mug adds a sentimental touch that elevates it to a cherished heirloom.
Still Stumped? We Can Help!
Feeling overwhelmed by the choices? Don't fret! At The Brand Barrel, we specialize in helping you find the perfect wooden beer mug for any occasion. With our curation of high-quality, handcrafted mugs, you're sure to discover the ideal gift that will have them raising a toast in appreciation.
So, ditch the ordinary and embrace the rustic charm of wood. With the right mug, you're gifting more than just a vessel; you're gifting an experience, a conversation starter, and a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. What are you waiting for? Start crafting the perfect beer-soaked memory today!
P.S. What type of beer would your recipient pair with their new wooden mug? Share your thoughts in the comments below!
0 notes
apollogrip · 2 months
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Unique Finds in Auckland: Paper Plates, Squid Game Keyrings, and Wooden Cutlery Sets
Auckland is a vibrant city with lots of unique products available for all kinds of needs and interests. Whether you’re planning a party, a fan of popular TV shows, or looking for eco-friendly dining options, Auckland has something for you. Today, we’ll explore three exciting items you can find in the city: paper plates in Auckland, NZ, Squid Game keyrings in Auckland, and wooden cutlery sets in Auckland.
Paper Plates in Auckland, NZ
If you’re hosting a party or a picnic, paper plates are a must-have. Paper plates in Auckland, NZ are not only convenient but also come in a variety of designs and sizes. They are perfect for events where you need an easy cleanup solution. After everyone is done eating, you can simply dispose of the plates, saving you the hassle of washing dishes.
In Auckland, you can find paper plates in fun and colorful designs, making them great for birthdays, barbecues, and family gatherings. Some stores even offer eco-friendly options made from recycled materials, so you can enjoy your party without worrying about harming the environment.
Squid Game Keyrings in Auckland
If you’re a fan of the popular TV show Squid Game, you’re in luck! Squid Game keyrings in Auckland are a fantastic way to show off your love for the series. These keyrings feature various characters and symbols from the show, making them a cool accessory for your keys, backpack, or even your phone.
Squid Game keyrings are also great as gifts for friends who are fans of the show. They are small, affordable, and collectible. You can find them in many stores around Auckland, especially in shops that sell TV show and movie merchandise. Adding a Squid Game keyring to your collection is a fun way to keep a piece of the show with you wherever you go.
Wooden Cutlery Sets in Auckland
For those who are environmentally conscious, wooden cutlery sets in Auckland are a fantastic choice. These sets include forks, knives, and spoons made from wood, which are biodegradable and much better for the planet compared to plastic cutlery. Wooden cutlery is perfect for picnics, parties, and everyday use.
Using wooden cutlery sets not only helps reduce plastic waste but also adds a touch of natural elegance to your meals. They are sturdy and can handle a variety of foods, from salads to steaks. Plus, they are often packaged in eco-friendly materials, making them a great choice for those looking to minimize their environmental impact.
In Auckland, you can find wooden cutlery sets in various stores, including eco-friendly shops and supermarkets. They come in different styles and finishes, so you can choose the one that best suits your taste.
Conclusion
Auckland offers a wide range of unique products that cater to different needs and interests. Whether you’re planning a party with paper plates in Auckland, NZ, expressing your fandom with Squid Game keyrings in Auckland, or looking for sustainable dining options with wooden cutlery sets in Auckland, you’ll find plenty of options in the city.
These items are not only practical but also add a fun and eco-friendly touch to your everyday life. So next time you’re out shopping in Auckland, keep an eye out for these fantastic finds. You might just discover something new and exciting to enhance your daily routine!
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taurusdesign · 2 months
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Judith Kitchen
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Sul sul everyone!
I did it! Finally! It's been quite a ride. In addition to the difficulty of making kitchen, the hot weather is killing me and my computer. It's hot as hell!
When I shared the WIP, I said that "The texturing would end next week." But as you can imagine, it didn't happen that way. The most difficult part of making a kitchen is definitely texturing. Because every part needs to look like a perfect whole. And if there are too many swatches, it becomes more difficult. But I think I did it.
I told there were too many swatches. That's why I divided the kitchen cabinets and counters into three. (As Marble, Wood and Plaster counter tops.) In order to be more easily distinguished in the catalog, they are shown with different swatches as follows.
Marble Top
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Wooden Top
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Plaster Top
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The items included in the set are listed below. (Total of 56 items and Base Game compatible)
Kitchen Counter v1 (3 different tops)
Kitchen Counter v2 (3 different tops)
Kitchen Island v1 (3 different tops)
Kitchen Island v2 (3 different tops)
Cabinets v1 (3 different tops)
Cabinets v2 (3 different tops)
Appliance Cabinets (3 different tops)
Tall Cabinets v1 (3 different tops)
Tall Cabinets v2 (3 different tops)
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Wall Stove Hood
Fridge 1-Tile
Fridge 2-Tiles
Stove
High-oven (Dream Home Decorator Game Pack Required)
Microwave
Built-in Oven*
Cooktop
Dishwasher*
Ceiling Stove Hood (3 heights)
Marble Sink
Metal Sink
Bar Stool
Wide plates
Coffe cups
Water glasses
Oval plates
Medium plates
Saucers
Bowls
Pan
Soup pot
Dish rack
Stock pot
Soap tray
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PUBLIC RELEASE AUGUST 23, 2024
CHECK IT OUT!
I hope you like it!
Love you all! ❤️❤️❤️
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bi-writes · 22 days
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thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup
mail-order bride
"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"
you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).
a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.
you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.
you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.
the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.
"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"
"wot?"
"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"
"for wot?"
"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"
you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.
simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.
his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.
"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."
you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.
"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."
he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.
"simon?" you whisper.
he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.
"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.
he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.
there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.
"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.
when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.
he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.
joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.
and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.
"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."
fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--
"love you, too, baby."
"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.
"if i tell ya, it won't come true."
"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."
he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.
that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.
2K notes · View notes
paradiseshop · 1 year
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WOODEN PLATES CAN BE A GOOD?
Wooden plates can be a good option for serving food in certain situations. They are eco-friendly and biodegradable, which makes them a more sustainable option compared to plastic or disposable paper plates. Wooden plates can also add a rustic or natural look to the presentation of food, which can be desirable in certain settings. Overall, wooden plates can be a good option for certain situations, but it's important to consider the type of food being served.
you can visit this website to see several models of very interesting kitchen plates in olive wood
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distantdarlings · 3 months
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OUT OF IT // t. nott
RATING: R / 4.4K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* Theodore Nott has been your best friend for years, but the closeness that you’ve gained throughout your friendship proves to be a little too intimate for the two of you to handle.
+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV - no protection, fingering, light nipple play (f!receiving), dirty talk, tension, top!Theo, bottom!Reader, fem reader, language, super NOT proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Again (Sped Up) - Noah Cyrus
(Okay! So prep for this was super rushed bc I am about to go on vacation and just got done with a ton of work. I’m very sorry this is so quick and frazzled—hopefully you all can look past it. Thanks for your patience.)
- - -
The dimly-lit corridors always felt so cozy around this time of the evening. The skies outside were pitch black and the only form of light was the flickering, honeyed candles mounted to the stone walls every few paces or so. A rather clever spell had been cast on them to keep them from dripping wax all over the floors.
You combed your fingers through your hair, letting the strands slide across your skin. Keeping your hair pinned up always gave you just a bit of a headache, but being able to take it down after classes was a relief like no other. Your fingernails scratched lightly over your scalp in an attempt to reestablish some blood flow throughout.
After a particularly difficult day, you wanted nothing more than to eat a quick dinner and then crash into your bed. You felt as if you’d been going non-stop since waking up this morning with nothing but a bagel and some tea in your stomach for the whole day. You were sure if you spoke to a muggle physician, they’d have some choice words for you. You could practically feel the dark circle sprouting beneath your eyes.
You turned one final candle-adorned hallway before arriving in front of the Great Hall. You arrived on the later side of the allotted dinner times, but you knew the food would stay on the table until the last student who intended to eat arrived. That was part of Hogwart’s lovely charm.
A wave of warmth from the fireplace in the corner washed over you like a blanket. The sudden temperature change brought on a case of chills across your body. A small shudder flowed through you.
Your eyes scanned the table on the far end of the room—its dark wooden surface topped with deep green runners and dishes of food. Sitting alongside the farthest end of the table were the most familiar faces in the entire school. A gentle smile appeared across your lips at the sight of your friends chatting and laughing together.
You approached the table with the same smile painted on. As you drew closer and caught a few eyes, you raised your hand for a polite wave. All of a sudden, you were a bit more awake than you had been.
A set of bright eyes turned and locked with yours, prompting a jolt of energy through your chest. You settled in next to the owner of those special eyes, allowing him to wrap his arm around you and pull you in close.
“How are you, tesoro?” Theo asked, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head.
“It was good. What about you?” you asked. He shrugged and flashed you a smile. He’d never been one to talk much about his day.
You gathered some food onto your plate, Theo never taking his arm from around you even when he went back to eating.
“So, how was everyone’s day?” Enzo asked cheekily, eyeing the two of you. The young man in front of you had always had a deep insistence that you and Theodore Nott would be the perfect couple.
“You’re perfect for each other,” he would say. “You compliment each other so well, plus you’re already so comfortable around each other!” To which, you’d always laugh and shake your head, only mostly ignoring the fantasies that would twirl through your mind after the fact.
You were not going to date Theodore Nott. He was your best friend—had been for years.
“Fine, thanks,” you replied snarkily, popping some kind of berry into your mouth. It crunched between your teeth pleasantly, bleeding dark, sweet juice. It was unlike any other fruits you’d ever tasted, but you never knew what you were going to taste at Hogwarts.
“Mm, you’ve got a bit of—” Theo started. Still chewing on a bit of food, he ran the thumb of his free hand over the corner of your lip and promptly placed it against his tongue. He sucked the flavor off of his skin, then turned back to his dinner.
It didn’t much bother you, just ignited a bit of heat against the wall of your gut. Mattheo and Enzo, however, acted like they’d just seen someone hurl into the dinner bowls.
“Hello, friends!”
The group turned to face Pansy Parkinson. A dainty, but lean girl with striking black hair cut across her cheeks in sharp, even lines. She was truly one of your only female friends, considering how often you hung around a male party.
“Hey, Pans!” The group chorused, offering lazy waves and full-mouthed smiles. She smiled a bit and took a seat next to Enzo. She selected an apple from the bowl just before her and took a large chunk out of it, her pale eyes flicking around the table.
“Why are you all so quiet?” she mumbled around chunks of apple.
Enzo snuck his arm down beneath the table and discreetly bumped Pansy’s ribs with his elbow twice. They were sure you hadn’t seen their little gesture that translated to ‘I’ll fill you in later,’ but you most definitely had.
You struggled not to roll your eyes as you knew they’d gossip for hours about how you and Theo would be the perfect couple. Honestly, it used to bother you a bit, knowing your friends were talking about you behind your back. But with a quick and direct questioning of Enzo, you realized that they weren’t so much gossiping about you as they were rooting for you. Their support didn’t matter, though. You would not be dating Theodore Nott.
***
That night, as you had begun to settle in for bed, you found yourself thinking of Theo. You always thought of him around bed time. There was never really a time when your best friend wasn’t floating around your head, but at night, when you were recapping your day, you thought of him.
Theo had a nasty habit of popping into your head at the worst of times. During tests, holidays with your families, your dreams, and even when you…when you would get into bed and slide the velvet drapes hung around the frame shut, and let your hands slide beneath the covers.
You swallowed thickly at the thought. You would not be dating Theodore Nott. No matter if he did cross your mind when you touched yourself. You inhaled shakily and slid beneath the covers, ignoring the ache in your chest and the pulsing between your legs.
***
The next morning, you found yourself wandering down to the Great Hall just as you had done the night before for dinner.
And just like last night, Pansy, Enzo, Mattheo, and Theo were waiting for you just like they always were.
You slid into the space beside Theo and laid a sleepy head against his shoulder, letting a slightly dramatic huff out.
“Oh dear, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” Theo teased, placing a kiss to the top of your head. The audience members before you each made a different face at the show of affection. It never bothered you and it had seemingly never bothers Theo, but your friends had a habit of turning it into something it didn’t need to be.
“Yes, I did,” you sighed. “I barely slept a wink last night—I was tossing and turning all night.” Which was not a lie, but a bit of an understatement. Your sleep had been plagued with visions of Theo.
Theo looking at you, Theo kissing you, Theo touching you, Theo Theo Theo. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Theo looked down at you. You met his eyes.
“Is everything alright?” he asked.
“Yes, why?”
“You’re clenching my arm really hard,” he chuckled, glancing down at your clutched fist around his arm. Oh. You quickly let go of him and apologized, embarrassed that he was having such a physical effect on you. You’d never been so distracted before. Sure, you’d had these thoughts of Theo before but it had never affected you in your everyday life, and certainly not in front of him.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Enzo interrupted. You turned and the three sitting across from you all seemed to be staring with concern.
“You seem out of it…,” Mattheo said, looking you up and down. Pansy voiced a small agreement.
“I’m fine,” you chuckled nervously. Theo placed a hand on your back and began to rub comforting circles around the center of your spine.
His touch against you was almost too much to bear.
You shied away from him and, forcing a smile, you got to your feet and quickly excused yourself. You knew if you looked back, all of them would still be staring at you but you needed to get away. Theo’s hand on your back was nearly enough to make you come undone.
These altered feelings of him had your mind running haywire.
You scurried off down the halls, twisting and turning, and avoiding any and everyone. The Slytherin dungeons weren’t that far from the Great Hall, but every step you took made the hallway feel as if it was elongating. It felt as though you would never reach it and as if you’d be walking for the rest of eternity, when you came upon the secret entrance.
You mumbled the password then slipped through the doorway.
Other than a few scattered students, there was practically no one in the common room. Hopefully you’d be able to get a bit of privacy upstairs in your bedroom.
Thoughts of Theo swirled around your head, threatening to fall in on you and drown you in your own desire. You had no idea why he was having such an effect on you.
Once you came upon the door to your dorm, you pushed through the door, slammed it quickly behind you, and collapsed onto your bed. A quick survey of the room told you that it was empty, except for your panting body.
You set yourself against your pillows, drawing your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. If you kept having such an issue, you were just going to have to avoid your friends for the next few days.
You refused to let any silly thoughts get in the way of your friendship with Theo. You’d had plenty of intrusive thoughts pertaining to him in the past. That didn’t mean you were in love with him or had any feelings for him other than platonic. People had weird thoughts about their friends all of the time—it didn’t make them true.
A knock on the door drove its way through your train of thought. A small jolt ran through your body at the sudden sound.
Assuming it was just one of your roommates, you invited them in. But one of your roommates did not walk through the door. Theo did.
Upon seeing him, you shot up to a sitting position almost immediately.
“Theo—I didn’t know it was you, I’d really like to be alone right now if—”
“That’s fine. I’ll leave as soon as you tell me what’s wrong.”
His eyes were stern with his jaw clenched tightly, the muscle running across the bone rippling with every grind of his teeth. If you didn’t know this boy like the back of your hand, you might’ve mistook his concern for fury.
“Nothing’s wrong. Like I said, I’m just tired.”
“There’s something else,” he spoke. “I can tell. I’ve known you for nearly as long as I’ve been alive. Do you seriously think I can’t tell when something’s bothering you? You brushed away my hand, you—you barely looked at me earlier. You’ve never, ever turned me away like that—and if you decide you’re done with me, w-with us—that’s fine, but I deserve an explanation.” He stepped forward and left nothing but a few inches between the two of you. “I demand one.”
His ramble ended with deep, heaving breaths, his eyes staring down at you with longing and panic, and your saliva nearly getting caught in your throat. If you hadn’t closed your mouth that had been gaping open, you might’ve choked.
He stood so closely, you could feel his breaths on your chest. You attempted to avoid his eyes but it was as if he’d locked you to him. You couldn’t pull away.
“Theo, I’m not…done with you,” you exhaled shakily, “I always want you.”
His eyes softened a bit.
“Er, to be here with me as my friend!” you gasped out quickly, trying to ease the landing of the borderline confession you’d just spouted out.
His mouth dropped a bit as he seemed almost disappointed. Surely he didn’t feel the same way.
“What if I want to be here with you…but as more than just a friend,” he whispered. His deep voice rumbled beneath the pressure of his chapped lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at them briefly.
Once you had, his breath hitched in his throat just a bit, and you knew he’d seen you. You knew he’d seen your eyes dart from his deep, crystalline eyes to his barely parted lips. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip, just enough to grant them some hydration from how deeply the two of you had been breathing. A shudder passed through you at the sight.
“What’s…more than a friend?” you breathed, your voice wavering as you found it increasingly harder to pull your eyes away from his lips.
What a stupid thing to ask.
“I want to show you what it is,” he said. “I want you to feel what more than a friend is.”
You almost jumped out of your skin when the tips of his fingers brushed against your forearm. He seemed to be testing the waters and, though your reaction wasn’t exactly calm, must have decided that it was okay to move forward again. The fingers from the opposite hand brushed alongside your other arm.
“Let me show you what it feels like,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to lose anything we have because of one stupid mistake—because we couldn’t control ourselves,” you said, biting your lip nervously. You knew it was a cruel thing to say but it was the truth. Theo was the best thing that had ever happened to you, even before you couldn’t escape the feeling of his eyes on you.
“I won’t let anything change us,” he said. “Let me give you all of me before you decide you need some of me.”
Shakily, you pressed your lips together and nodded slowly. You were all his.
He smiled just a bit, a shaking breath pushing through his lips as if he’d been holding it for a while.
His hands were slow and patient, carefully mapping out every place he intended to touch and ensuring that it was completely okay with you before doing so.
Fingers traced over your hips and across your ribs through your uniform shirt. Even through the material, you felt his simulated touch eliciting chills across your stomach and arms. He smirked a bit at the way the small hairs there stood up.
“Can I touch your skin?” he asked, his eyes finding yours. You nodded in response.
At your immediate consent, he took no time in easing the hem of your shirt out from beneath your skirt. The tucked-in material had created indentations along your flesh from pressing into it all day. His fingers traced along the swirls of marks across your hips.
His hot skin on yours was nearly too much to handle—you swore you felt your knees buckle.
After the initial shyness of skin-on-skin, you could feel Theo’s hands splay wide on either side of your hips and move across your abdomen and all the way to the back. His fingers brushed across the strap of your bra just as a raging heat split your stomach in two.
“Can I?” he asked. Of course, you nodded.
With a second set of permissions, he felt even bolder. He sucked in a strong breath and, with quick and intense movements, brought his hands out from beneath your shirt and began to unfasten the buttons.
With each button he pulled open, he placed a hot kiss to the skin revealed. Your breaths came in deep heaves, your chest lurching towards him pathetically.
His tongue brushed over the cleavage split evenly by the pressure of your bra. With your chest nearly completely revealed to him, Theo’s eyes darkened severely.
His eyes found yours again. The two of you regained consciousness for only a moment to realize where you were and what you were doing, before you clasped your hands around his head and pulled his mouth to yours.
With a fiery desire, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and, with subtle clumsiness, lifted you off the floor just enough to push you up against the stone wall in the corner.
A shy moan slipped from between your lips at the feeling of your body trapped in between him and the wall.
His lips devoured yours like a man starved. He drank up every drop of saliva granted by each slide of your tongue along his, never wasting a single bit. His hands gripped at you mercilessly—at your hips, your chest, your ass. It wasn’t long before your shirt was completely unbuttoned and slid messily down your shoulders and your shoes slipped off and kicked somewhere into the corner.
As the two of you took a moment to breath, noses pressed to each other and breaths intermingling, Theo contemplated his next moves.
“I want to take care of you,” he heaved, a bead of sweat sliding down his sharply detailed throat.
“Please… have me as you will,” you whined, hardly able to stand being away from him in these few seconds.
The sounds of your begging did nothing but urge him forward, cutting through every strap of restraint he may have still had. He fucking loved it.
“Let me make you feel good,” he whispered.
He slid his finger down across your neck, tightening his grip just barely around your throat, then sliding them down across your breasts. He kneaded the sore tissue there, reveling in the way your lips parted at the feeling.
His fingers slid over the metal clasp that sat squarely between your breasts, shining in the firelight, waiting for him to separate it.
Before touching your chest any further, he wrapped his hands around your thighs once more and wrapped them around his waist, balancing you against the wall behind you.
His fingers then returned to their post at your bra and effortlessly split the clasp. The pressure of your breasts popped the fabric apart, quickly revealing your chest to the boy before you.
He moaned at the sight of your gorgeous chest and could not resist from placing his lips around each nipple, swirling his tongue around them perfectly. Your head fell back against the wall, your hands clutching at this hair, your legs wrapped around his body.
“You’re so perfect—gonna make you feel so good,” he mumbled.
His hands and lips reluctantly separated from your chest and pulled you away from the wall for just a moment. He walked you over to the recession in the wall where the windowsill waited for your body weight.
The drapes were pulled together but you imagined that you wouldn’t be so angry if they weren’t.
Theo set you down against the cool stone and slid your hips against him.
With no regard for what you were going to do for your next day of classes, he roughly split your tights to reveal the bottoms beneath.
He let out a moan at the sight of you—you were better than he’d ever imagined.
Flipping your skirt up, he traced a single, trained finger over the slit of fabric covering the most sensitive part of your body. You let out a wavering moan at the sensation, gripping onto his shoulders tightly.
“Please, Theo, no more teasing,” you groaned, sliding your hips closer to his. The motion pressed your core against his, creating a type of friction that was more than delicious. The both of you paused and shuddered against each other’s mouth.
If Theo had any restraint left in his body, it was this that destroyed it.
He slid a finger beneath the material of your bottoms and slid them to the side, revealing you to the cool air. You shuddered a bit at the feeling, not prepared for the sudden change in temperature.
He traced his fingers along your folds again, collecting slicks of moisture along them. You could barely keep up with his pace, not sure whether to moan or cry or beg for more.
Once soaked enough, he slid a finger into you, allowing you to stretch around it. You cried out to the night air, clutching at his shirt like you might slip away from this world if he kept easing you open just as he was.
There were blinks of time where he’d slip another finger in just beside the other, stretching you farther than you’d ever been before, but you could hardly grasp where you were in time and space. All you could feel, think, smell, hear, taste was Theodore Nott.
When years had passed and he’d built you up to your climax twice already, he decided that he was ready to give you all of him.
The layer of sweat across your body and cloud of exhaustion that plagued your mind seemed to be no obstacle for a still very wired Theo. He was ready to fuck himself into you until you were begging for mercy. He’d been waiting for this for years.
“Turn over for me, sweetheart,” he said lovingly, a stark contrast to the brutality with which he’d worked you apart.
Slow-moving from exhaustion but still eager for more of his touch, you forced yourself onto your stomach. Your hands gripped onto the drapes for some sense of purchase—hopefully they wouldn’t collapse down around the two of you, revealing both of your bodies to the world.
When the rustling of his clothing and the clinking of his belt hit your ears, the entire lower half of your body twinged in anticipation. You gasped lowly as his hands slipped beneath your skirt, slowly smoothing his fingers over the fabric of your bottoms before gripping them and sliding them down your legs.
He allowed you to step out of them before he pushed you back up against the stone and slid himself across your entrance. You sucked in a breath sharply at the sensation, your fingers digging into the canvas drapes so tightly they burned white around the knuckles.
One hand gripped your bare hips while the other slowly guided himself into you all the way to the hilt. The slow stretch he had provided you before was nothing compared to the fire burning below now. Your eyes clenched shut, bursts of tears slipping down your cheeks.
“Breathe, bella,” he groaned softly as he allowed you to adjust while refraining from going as fast and as hard as he could.
It took only a moment before you asked him to move, and begged him to claim you fully. And then he was controlling every inch of what you received, ruthlessly, yet lovingly.
The silence of the room was filled with his breathless groans, your stuttering words, and the force of his hips hitting yours. You’d hardly be able to stand if it weren’t for his strong hands holding your hips up, keeping you just where he wanted you for each force of his hips.
With each passing second, you found your grip on the fabric above you becoming weaker and your ability to hold yourself up diminishing. With the pace he’d set, you’d be finishing any minute and he knew it.
And by the way his speed stuttered every so often and his hands gripped onto the fabric of your skirt, you figured he couldn’t be far behind you.
Your naked breasts lightly scraped against the stone with every push from behind, rubbing the sensitive skin just enough to push you over your edge and crash within yourself. You cried out from the force of the pleasure that hit you.
As soon as you had managed to finish against him, the tightening of your muscles tipped him over the cliff side he stood atop, forcing him to the waves below.
He worked himself through his climax before slowing to a stop and collapsing against you. The sweat on your skin mingled together, creating a hot seal between your bodies. You could hardly catch your breath between the windowsill pressed against you and the strong man behind you.
“Theo,” you whined. “Get off…”
He responded with a huff and a moment’s silence, before pushing off of you. Your skin separated with a sticky pull.
He gently pulled you away from the window, slid your messed skirt down and helped you slide into your bed. He slid in next to you for just a moment.
“I think I’m about to pass out and sleep for the next 48 hours,” you chuckled lazily.
“Would you say I gave enough of myself?” he smirked, brushing a strand away from your forehead.
“I’d say it was more than enough,” you said, rolling your eyes at his confidence.
“Well, I’m yours anytime you want me.” He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, before getting to his feet and beginning to redress.
“No,” you fussed. “Why are you leaving?”
“Because it’s the middle of the day and I’m missing my classes,” he laughed, tightening his belt back to its proper place.
“I am too—just skip with me today,” you begged.
“No, darling, I’ve got to get back to class. I’ve got too many assignments due today. I’ll let them know you won’t be making it in today, though.”
“What are you going to tell them if they ask?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“Mm, I’ll let them know that you had a rough morning and you’re gonna sleep it off.”
He smirked meanly before slipping through the dorm door and leaving you in silence, bundled up in your bed and nearly too tired to even try and get ready for classes.
One day off wouldn’t be too big of a deal.
- - -
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andypantsx3 · 5 months
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𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 3 of 4
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Then
“I want to climb trees, this is so boring,” Touya complained, face down on the sofa.
You flung a piece of plastic pizza at him, laughing when it bounced off his back. Touya turned to give you the evil eye, daggers in his gaze.
“Keigo and Rumi will be here soon, can you just wait?” you asked.
On your other side, Shouto made an unhappy grunt, leaning out from behind you to give Touya a narrow-eyed little gaze. “Y/N is busy. Do not interrupt,” he said primly.
Touya grunted. “Y/N isn’t yours, you little shit. Y/N is my friend.”
Shouto puffed up next to you, little hand gripping your shirt. “Y/N is mine, Touya.” His mismatched gaze was intense where it fixed on his older brother, like he was trying to set him on fire with his eyeballs.
You shifted in between them with years of long practice, blocking their line of sight. Brothers.
“I really want to play house, if only someone would stop arguing and play with me,” you said, making sure to sound extra pathetic. That always got Shouto.
As expected, he immediately abandoned Touya, patting you as if to reassure you. “Of course I will play with you, Y/N,” he pronounced solemnly, like he was declaring some oath of office.
You snorted, turning back to Shouto’s kitchen playset with him. It had been Touya’s first, several years ago when you first visited the Todoroki house. Back then he still deigned to play with it, bossing you around like the alpha of the house, though you didn’t quite think he was going to grow up as one. Then you’d gotten too old for it, preferring video games or board games or ranging around the neighborhood, up to little good.
Today was a rare day that Keigo was permitted to come out and run around the neighborhood with you, but you had to wait for him to get here first with Rumi. And so you’d allowed Shouto to drag you over to the kitchen set while you waited, he its final owner.
“What shall I make you, Mr. Todoroki?” you asked Shouto, shifting the little plastic frying pan around on the wooden stove top. “I make a mean sliced banana. Or a sandwich, or chicken.”
Shouto moved to sit next to you, peering at his options. “I want to make it with you.”
You smiled. “You don’t want me to cook it for you?”
Shouto shook that mop of scarlet and white hair. “I want to do it together.”
You laughed. “Alright, then how about you cut up the veggies for our sides and our sandwich, and I’ll cook the chicken.”
Shouto laid out a myriad of plastic vegetables on the counter, levering his plastic knife through the velcro in their center with great concentration. You tried not to reach out and pinch his cheek for how cute he was. You didn’t understand how Touya got so annoyed with all his younger siblings when they were this sweet.
You got to work frying your plastic pile of chicken, laying it out on fake plates across the carpet when you were done. Shouto carefully placed the sliced vegetables next to it, and then the two of you bent over the pieces of a sandwich, layering in the plastic onion, tomato, lettuce, and bread.
“Shall we make you up a plate, Touya?” you asked. Touya just flashed you a rude gesture from the couch.
“This is only for you,” Shouto insisted, pushing your plate at you. You grinned down at him, passing over the fake cutlery.
“Well thank you, chef Shouto. I am honored to be worthy enough of your cooking,” you said.
Shouto’s little cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed. He pretended to take a bite out of his sandwich, and then a swig out of his fake bottle of milk.
“So, how was work?” he asked, out of nowhere.
You blinked at him, then startled into another laugh. Oh, so he wanted to play real house, like you were married. So funny.
You pretended to take a thoughtful bite of your own meal. “Very busy and tiring,” you said. “I couldn’t wait to come home.”
Shouto scooted a little bit closer to you, pushing some of his fake veggies at you, their velcro innards rolling. “You need to eat a lot to keep your energy,” he pronounced. “Until I can make enough money that you do not have to work so hard.”
You grinned. So he thought he was going to be the breadwinner, huh? Not super traditional for an omega, but times were changing. You couldn’t imagine an alpha who wouldn’t want to provide for sweet little Shouto, though, so that was something he and his life mate were going to have to negotiate.
“We’re already rich, idiot,” Touya said from the couch. “Mom said we all have an inheritance.”
Shouto’s eyebrow twitched, like he was annoyed Touya was intruding on this private domestic discussion.
“Then you can have my inheritance,” he insisted to you, though you knew he had absolutely no idea what that meant.
You pretended to think on this.
“What if I use some of it to open my bookstore, and then pay you back the profits?” you asked.
Touya thought your dream of a bookstore was stupid, so you anticipated his annoyed grunt from the couch. But you still liked the idea of it. Ever since you were little, you’d wanted to own one of the brick-faced shops right along the waterfront, somewhere you could walk to from your house. You’d pile it high with thousands of books and plants and string-lights and have all your friends come over after hours to hang out.
You didn’t want to leave your hometown like so many people did. You wanted to make a home right here on the coast, where you could watch over your mom and hang out with Shouto and Touya and Keigo and Rumi.
Though these days you’d become aware that starting a business required upfront money first. Hopefully you would figure out how to get some by the time you graduated highschool. But the Todoroki inheritance would work nicely for your fantasy bookstore.
“You do not have to pay me back the profits,” Shouto insisted. “If we are married.”
You laughed. “Right, right. Then they’re our profits.”
“This is sickening,” Touya said, his voice muffled into a pillow.
You wiggled your eyebrows at Shouto, considering saying something that would bait Touya, but then the doorbell rang. Touya shot up off the couch, rushing over to let in his saviors.
“Looks like Keigo and Rumi are here,” you told Shouto. “Thank you for a delicious dinner.”
Some tiny flicker crossed Shouto’s serious little face, something like annoyance, which you so rarely saw on him. “I want to make it together again.”
You nodded, patting his fluff of multicolored hair. “Yeah, we’ll do it again. Next time we’ll even do dessert, okay?”
Shouto looked momentarily appeased. “And you’ll eat it all. So you have energy.”
You laughed, yanking on one of the strands of his hair fondly. “Absolutely. You take such good care of me, Shouto.”
A pleased little smile turned the corner of his mouth. He placed a hand on your knee as you heard Keigo and Rumi spill into the house, the rustle of Rumi and Touya immediately tussling.
“I will take good care of you always,” Shouto said seriously. “You have my word.”
“I trust it,” you said. And you knew he meant it.
Todoroki Shouto was such a sweet boy, and he was going to make someone a very good not-pretend husband one day. You waved to him as Rumi looped a nut-brown arm over your neck, pulling you outside.
These days, you’d been aware that life was not going to be as stable as you’d always assumed it would be as you grew up. But you hoped you’d still be around to see Shouto grow up too, married and happy like that with his own real life partner some day.
You wondered where you would be when that finally happened.
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Now
The next few days proved a test of your resolution to be normal about Shouto.
Everywhere you went, it seemed like Shouto was there—or maybe you were the problem, finding yourself drawn to wherever he was.
You took meals at the Todoroki house a couple more times, eating them out of house and home like you had as a teen—Shouto always stopping by too to eat something on his way on or off a shift. Twice your morning runs had taken you by the fire station, only to see a pair of mismatched eyes tracking you curiously from the engine bay, burning hot on your back as you quickly scurried away, feeling insane.
Shouto joined Touya when he met you and Rumi and Keigo for drinks one evening, Touya looking just as chagrined to have his baby brother tagging along as he had when you were kids.
“Shouto-duty,” he’d growled, the same as when you were little and he was charged with Shouto’s care. Shouto’s face had gone carefully blank, the paragon of innocence, and you’d laughed as he angled himself into the booth across from you.
Of course you’d quickly shut up when he’d pressed his calf up against yours, his long legs unfurling under the table. You’d quickly jerked your leg aside to make space for him, but he stretched out further, an ankle pressing to yours. He didn’t seem to mind, although it made your face warm for some reason.
Shouto had been good company, and had patiently endured Rumi’s hair ruffling and Keigo’s incessant teasing. He’d even walked you home at the end of the evening, like a protective alpha, even though you were not an omega and could damn well take care of yourself. And he’d lingered as you’d unlocked the door, smiling his tiny, careful little smile, and looking almost like he was waiting for something.
You’d bitten out a strangled good night and quickly barricaded yourself inside the house, lest you do something stupid.
That had the unfortunate effect of making you feel even more like a girl returning home from a date, however, and your mother had been almost beside herself with glee when she’d caught a hint of Shouto’s scent as you’d jerked the door closed behind you.
“An alpha?” she’d prompted again, abandoning her soap opera to lean over the couch arm eagerly.
“It’s just Shouto,” you’d explained hastily, waving your arms, a little loose with the drinks you’d had. “It’s not anything.”
Your mother’s eyebrows had gone up. “I thought he was your child bride.”
You hissed, shushing her, casting a stricken glance at the open window. You hoped Shouto had turned around immediately and gotten out of hearing range or you were going to have to kill your own mother.
“He is like my orderly, helping me off the shuttle back into the retirement home,” you said, turning and emphatically shedding your jacket and shoes, effectively ending the conversation.
But that hadn’t been the end of it. You’d seen Shouto a million times more since then, culminating in a final sighting the night before the run.
You’d ducked out to the grocery, intent on gathering up a day’s worth of supplies for the run. For most people it was over within a few hours—omegas had a thirty minute head start but usually went no further than a mile out, the ritual no longer the strict test of a mate it might have been back before things like showers and wifi and nine-to-fives were invented. But you always went to the coast, a hike of at least an hour or two, and you needed to stay up your tree for at least a few more while the more daring omegas who’d come out around you were summarily hunted down and properly bedded.
With the hike back accounted for, it usually took up most of the day, and you’d long learned your time was best spent with a book, a few bottles of water, and several snacks on hand.
You recognized Shouto’s distinctive mop of hair and broad shoulders as soon as you turned onto the produce aisle. He’d seemed somehow to sense you already—though betas were notoriously harder to scent than omegas—mismatched eyes already pinned to you as you rounded the corner.
You startled, your basket jerking in your grip.
“Hi Shouto,” you said, sidling up to him.
Shouto watched you approach, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Y/N,” he intoned, peering curiously into your basket. A long-fingered, elegant hand reached out to touch the snacks you’d gathered there, everything but the apple you’d been targeting when you’d turned into this aisle.
“For the run?” Shouto guessed, eyes darting back up to catch yours.
You could feel your face flushing in acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of your participation. “Yes,” you said, dredging up a grin. You were happy to see him. “With any luck, and a heaping dollop of guilt, hopefully my last ever. I’m going all out.”
Something flickered behind Shouto’s eyes, a sort of glint you’d never seen before. For some reason the hair on the back of your neck raised. Maybe an alpha thing.
“With any luck,” he repeated, his voice rich, strangely deep.
You wiggled your basket of snacks at him. “What about you? Making preparations for the big day?”
Shouto’s eyes followed the basket as you dropped it back down to your side. “Yes. I was hoping to make something, for after.”
Your eyebrows shot up, a wave of helpless affection for him rising in you. “For your life mate? To take them home to?”
Shouto nodded, his scarlet and white strands falling into his eyes. He was so, so good.
You couldn’t help but reach out and pinch him, right on his rib cage. “You are too pure to be related to your family.”
Shouto blinked, eyelashes fluttering. His gaze was a little darker where it caught yours again. “I would not be so sure.”
You took a step back, slightly startled by this assertion. Another flush heated your cheeks, and you pinched him again for good measure. “Respect your elders’ opinions, brat.”
Shouto’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, catching your fingers in his before you could do too much damage. Your heart hammered to a stop in your chest, your hand suddenly burning beneath his.
“Let me make you something,” he said, his tone dipping low again.
A surprised breath escaped you. “Like lunch? For tomorrow?”
Shouto watched you for a long moment before answering. “That, as well.”
“Oh, then you meant like, for dinner tonight?” You frowned, wracking your brain for his meaning, and coming up short.
That wry little smile played about Shouto’s mouth again. “Yes, dinner tonight, too.”
You squinted at him, unclear what he was trying to do here. “Touya says you’re a shit cook and that’s why you come eat all Rei’s cooking.”
Shouto’s face went pointedly blank. “I am passable.”
“I’ve heard conflicting reports.”
“Then perhaps you can help me.” Shouto’s fingers curled around yours more tightly. “I will purchase, and you direct the operation.”
Your mind suddenly flickered back, catching the wisp of an afternoon years ago, bent over Shouto’s fake plastic cookware, a tiny, round-faced Shouto insisting he’d provide for you. Cooking together, you directing Shouto to cut the plastic veggies along their velcro strips while you diligently fried your plastic chicken. Your heart swelled.
“In the interest of you not food poisoning your life mate your first night together, I’m willing to show you a thing or two,” you said, peering up at him, feeling slightly giddy.
Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I will watch carefully.”
You grinned. “Alright. What are we thinking for meals then?”
It turned out Shouto already had a plan in mind—fried chicken karaage, with marinated vegetable sides, and for lunch some jam-packed wanpaku sandwiches to keep your energy up out in the preserve tomorrow. He made a second pass through the snack aisle, seeming to pull in doubles or triples of everything you’d collected in your basket so far. Then he even snuck in two pieces of chocolate cake in the bakery section, crowned with little dollops of fresh whipped cream.
Shouto dumped your entire basket into his as well, holding you off with a strong arm when you made a grab for it, and ignored your protests all the way through checkout.
“Shouto, that’s my lunch, I should pay,” you insisted, getting a little hot in the face again when he was easily able to fend you off with one arm despite your genuine efforts. God, that was—you needed to not think about that.
“I once promised to take good care of you,” Shouto said, leading the way out of the store. You followed, realizing you had no idea where he lived now.
“You were a baby. You also promised me your entire inheritance,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Plus starting tomorrow you are going to have a life mate to provide for.”
Shouto turned to look down at you, eyes dragging down your face. “I will.”
“Okay then we’re agreed,” you said, digging around in your bag for his change. Shouto’s stride lengthened, however, like he was trying to dodge you. You hurried after him, swearing like Touya, and found yourself all but chasing him towards the waterfront, suddenly freezing when Shouto turned onto one of the shop-lined streets, stopping just before a familiar little brick building.
“Shouto—you live above this?” you asked, creeping forward to look in through the window.
The shop stood empty, as it had the day you’d graduated high school, but you could see it was well-maintained, new flooring installed in a warm light wood and windows shined to crystal clarity. “I used to be obsessed with this place, this is where I thought my bookshop was going to be!” you said, unsure if you were talking to Shouto or yourself.
The soft clink of Shouto’s key paused in the door. “I know,” he said. “I remember you telling me.”
You turned back to him, smiling. “That was a million years ago and you were like, barely out of the womb.”
Shouto’s eyes pinned you with an alarming intensity, grey and blue points burning through you. “I remember everything you have ever told me.”
Your breath wooshed out of you, leaving you startlingly vulnerable. You desperately scrambled for verbal cover. “I—you are so full of it. You weren’t even speaking words yet when I met you.”
Shouto’s mouth quirked again, and he gestured you inside. You followed behind him, trying not to admire the way his broad shoulders filled up the breadth of the stairwell, the way his thighs bunched in his jeans as he took the stairs.
No. That way lay danger.
Shouto’s apartment had the same lovely blonde wood across the floors as the shop downstairs, and a huge bay window overlooking the coast where you imagined you could see the sun come up over the water in the mornings. The rest of the apartment was modern in style, though strangely minimalist, as though Shouto hadn’t filled it with very many of his own things.
“My life mate will need room,” he explained, unloading the groceries on the counter.
Your heart twisted at that, and you purposefully set about drinking in your fill of Shouto’s space before someone else filled it in for him. You admired the large, cushiony couch, chosen as if Shouto had imagined a thousand nights cuddled up on it with someone else, what appeared to be a super old but working fireplace, and the neatly arranged rows of hanging copper pots, which you could tell almost never got used.
It smelled like him, his alpha scent everywhere, like sweet campfire smoke on a cold breeze. It made you want to curl up in here and never leave.
“It’s amazing, Shouto. Your mate is going to just die over this,” you said, totally charmed.
You tried hard to ignore the little tinge of jealousy souring your gut.
Shouto’s gaze flashed up to yours, his long fingers arranging the groceries neatly on his countertops. “I would prefer if no one died,” he said solemnly.
You laughed. “You know what I mean.”
“I had hoped you would like it,” Shouto said, something pleased in his deep tone.
“I love it. You’ll have to invite me back over next time I’m in town,” you said.
Shouto’s fingers hesitated over a tomato, and a small, shy sort of smile pulled at his mouth as he peered down at it. “Perhaps even sooner.”
You blinked, mystified. You weren’t going to have time before you left for the city again, not with the run tomorrow, and definitely not if Shouto spent the traditional several days curled up here with his life mate afterwards.
“Yeah sometime,” you said vaguely, trying not to think too hard on it.
You had sort of enjoyed being Shouto’s favorite when you were kids, your time and attention prioritized even above Touya’s. But Shouto was all grown up now and it was time for him to have a new favorite—you probably hadn’t been his since you’d graduated and disappeared into the city to generate parental support money. It had been years.
“Anyway let’s get this stuff prepped, sous-chef Shouto,” you said, coming around the counter to his side. “I’m thinking the old plan of attack—you slice the veggies, I’ll fry the chicken?”
Shouto’s mouth pulled in a wider smile than you’d seen in a long time, a heart-stoppingly handsome flash of white. You gripped the counter carefully.
“I’d like that,” he said.
He set himself up with a knife and a cutting board, and set you up with a few small bowls for breading, flour, and egg. You noticed he sliced his vegetables a little more dexterously than the velcro veggies of years past—though certainly not expertly. The two of you worked in easy tandem as you whisked the egg, then laid all your chicken pieces out as you waited for the pot on the stove to warm.
The peace was only broken when Shouto suddenly leaned over you, bringing with him a puff of that delicious campfire scent. Your breath reflexively seized in your lungs as you froze, hyperaware of him as his hand went to the side of your hip. He gently pulled you out of range of one of his drawers, moving you like you were an expected piece of his kitchen—like his life mate he was long-used to dancing around, pressing close enough that you could feel the heat of him.
Something like electricity spiked across all of your nerve endings. You tried not to shiver with the feeling of Shouto’s soft exhale over your shoulder, the heavy weight of his hand on your hip as he slid open one of his drawers.
It took you a few moments to recover enough that you realized he’d been pulling out plastic wrap. He hadn’t been curled over your back just for the intimacy of it—god, you were such a fucking creep.
You peeled yourself out of Shouto’s hands and beat a hasty retreat to his fridge, scrounging around for the ingredients you’d need to make the vegetable seasonings. The warm kabocha and fried chicken were going to make perfect leftovers for Shouto and his mate to scarf down after a windy run along the coast tomorrow.
Maybe you’d try to make something similar when you made it back to your mom’s tomorrow. Although, come to think of it, you didn’t really want to be reminded of Shouto stuffed up back here with someone else.
A frown pulled at your mouth, and you pinched your thigh, gathering yourself back together. What Shouto did with his own life mate was none of your business. You needed to remember that.
When Shouto finished cutting up the vegetables you helped him arrange everything into two enormous sandwiches, then covered in plastic wrap and stowed in his fridge to set. He watched you carefully as you fried the chicken, hovering closely behind you like a tall, handsome shadow. You fought against some strange impulse to lean back against his chest, watching the chicken burble in the oil with an intense focus. Shouto didn’t seem to mind the sudden quiet, smiling a small half-smile when you turned back to him.
When it seemed ready, you fished the chicken out, setting it on paper towels to absorb the excess. Shouto followed you, taking hold of your face as you turned back to him.
You froze for the second time, pulse racing, as his fingers came up to brush along your cheek, just under your eye. The touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze swept over you assessingly. He seemed to linger for a long moment—until he came away with flour across his thumb.
A weird sense of disappointment twisted your gut as Shouto looked it over. How embarrassing.
“Oh, thanks,” you managed to say, swiping at your face yourself.
Shouto’s mouth quirked softly. “As I said, I did once promise to take care of you.”
Your face went warmer, and you deliberately did not think about how much you liked that. The only person taking care of you was you, and it was going to have to be that way for the foreseeable future. Flour was only flour.
“Again, you were a baby. You needed taking care of more than me,” you accused.
Shouto shifted closer, an intent look settling over his features. “I am not a child any longer.”
That much was upsettingly clear these days. But that was beside the point.
“Neither of us are,” you agreed. “And I assure you, other than the occasional flour mishap, I am excellent at taking care of myself now. You on the other hand, with all these unused pots…”
Shouto’s eyes lingered on your face. To your horror he absently brought his thumb to his mouth, tongue barely flicking out to lick the flour—and that ended the discussion immediately.
Your face immediately flamed, overcome with shit you absolutely should not be thinking, and you shooed him away to fetch plates. Shouto let himself be shooed, looking contemplative.
When he returned with plates, you busied yourself serving up two large portions of rice, followed by crispy golden fried chicken, cucumber salad, and soft, steaming kabocha. It all looked excellent, if you did say so yourself, practically Michelin-starred compared to the plastic meal you’d made together all those years ago.
Shouto led you over to the coffee table and you both took positions on the floor, your back against his couch.
“This reminds me so much of when we were little,” you said, grinning. “Except the couch is mercifully devoid of any complaining.”
The indent at the side of Shouto’s mouth deepened. “I prefer the lack of Touya as well.”
You laughed, biting into your chicken, pleased when it tasted as good as it looked. Hopefully Shouto’s life mate was going to love it. Shouto looked like he liked it too, his long eyelashes fluttering over the tops of his cheekbones as he chewed. Your stomach flipped.
“So how was work?” you asked Shouto, flipping the script on him from when he was younger.
An electric blue eye cut sideways towards you, like he remembered too.
“Very busy and tiring,” he repeated, almost an exact parroting of your words, if you remembered correctly. “I could not wait to come home.”
“You really do remember a lot,” you said, impressed.
Shouto took a mouthful of squash, chewing neatly. Was it normal to look that pretty when eating?
“As I said,” he said, something slightly smug in his voice.
You rolled your eyes—Todorokis—and took your own mouthful of food, chewing thoughtfully.
“You’re so similar and yet so different,” you informed him when you’d finished. “I’m sad I missed you graduating school, and the academy. You’ve really grown up into an amazing person, Sho.”
Shouto’s chopsticks wavered over his plate, and a pink flush stained his cheeks.
“I had always wanted you to think so, when we were younger,” he said slowly, eyes fixed on his plate.
You smiled. “You were so cute. I was always going to think so. Even when I thought you were going to grow up an omega and had no idea what career you might have wanted. You were just good, I think.”
The tip of Shouto’s ear went red, almost matching the left side of his hair.
You couldn’t help but continue, warmed by how much the praise clearly meant to him. “Touya was my best friend but I liked spending the time with you, even though you were that much younger. I am sorry I haven’t been able to stick around and spend more of it with you.”
Shouto took a deliberate bite of rice, like he was calming himself.
“Your job in the city,” he said, when he finished. “Do you like it?”
You shook your head, snorting. “It’s fine. If I had a say I’d be running that storefront just below us, but my job is at least guaranteed money for mom. I don’t mind, though I do regret not coming back here enough.”
Shouto seemed to take a moment to think on this. “But you would quit it, if you could,” he said.
You nodded. “Yeah, I think so. But like I said, it’s not so bad. And it’s pretty good money for a single income if I do say so myself.”
Shouto turned to watch you. “It would be easier if you had your life mate,” he said.
You paused, considering the weight of this statement. “Well yeah. But as you know, not everyone finds theirs. And as a beta I’m sort of stuck waiting for my life mate to find me—I’ve sometimes wondered if any of those alphas I hid up a tree from were actually it, all those years ago. But something tells me no. So I’m doing my own thing in the meantime.”
“Do you hope to find your life mate, this time?” Shouto asked, pinning you with an intense look. He’d abandoned his food it seemed, watching you with singular focus. It was slightly unnerving.
You wondered how best to answer without making him pity you.
“I’ve always hoped, but I’ve never counted on it,” you said. “But one thing is for certain—I wouldn’t accept just anyone. I’m not going to end up like my parents did.”
Shouto’s fingers shifted on the table top, and he seemed to be holding them out to you. You carefully placed your hand in his, gratified when his hand closed over yours, thumb smoothing your skin.
“You are not,” Shouto said, sounding sure. “You will have a life mate who has cared for you and will care for you his whole life.”
He sounded like he meant it. He was so sweet all these years later.
You flushed, embarrassed by his declaration. “Okay. I’ll—trust you on that.”
Shouto looked satisfied, letting your hand go so you could return to your food. You both scarfed down the rest of your meals, like the two of you were storing up enough energy for tomorrow, and then Shouto pressed a slice of chocolate cake on you, too, insistent.
He watched you eat it with the supervisory focus of a mother—or an alpha with his omega, a thought that you immediately put back out of mind.
You let him feed you too much, happy for the extra time in his company, laughing and chatting and reliving shared memories. You insisted on helping him with the dishes, too, washing everything as he packed up the leftovers, and then sorted out your prepared sandwich and the snacks he’d purchased for you. He didn’t let you out of his sight even as he did so, moving in front of you to block your access to your bag when you remembered you owed him money.
Shouto kept hold of it on the way to the door, too, so you couldn’t dig out cash and fling it before running out—he really did know too much about you after all these years.
Once he surrendered your bag to you, he leaned forward, fingers finding the side of your face again, cupping it and turning it up to his.
You went perfectly, embarrassingly still in his hold, breath coming short. His thumb smoothed across your cheek, and a private little smile pulled at his mouth.
“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised, his tone rich and dark, like the chocolate cake you’d just had.
You barely resisted a shiver, having to manually kickstart your lungs again, breathing in and out deliberately.
“Only if your life mate goes so far,” you said. “I hope for your sake they keep things easy.”
Shouto’s smile widened a bit. “They will not.”
You tried not to be too irritated at whoever it was. Only an idiot would make it so hard for an alpha like Todoroki Shouto.
“Well then, good luck,” you told him. “I’ll be on the lookout for you from my tree. And I’ll have snacks if you need them.” You rattled your bag.
Shouto’s eyes roved over your face, something warm in his gaze. “You will see me,” he said. “Though I do not plan to need any luck.”
Okay that was—he was not allowed to be that confident. That damn omega had no idea how lucky they were.
It took everything you had to wrench yourself away from him, only the knowledge that he was meant for someone else carrying you away. You made yourself salute him, smiling. Then you bid him good night, promising to text him when you got in, and scurried off to your mother’s house, trying to put yourself on the right track again.
You scolded yourself as you readied for bed, dropping a kiss on your mother’s head as you passed her asleep on the couch. You would not be a weenie about this. You were, at least, glad that Shouto was going to find his happiness tomorrow.
Even if you envied them even more tonight after seeing the life Shouto had built for them to share. Even if you wished, despite all odds, that you could find a life mate to share yours, too.
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vanteguccir · 6 months
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗟
       𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Chris misplace his priorities.
WARNING: Fighting, crying, cursing. ANGST with a happy ending.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
   ༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Y/N felt her heart sink as she watched Chris frantically scrolling through his phone, barely paying attention to her. The silence in the living room echoed the tension that had been building between them over the past few weeks, the memory of the previous day's event still fresh in Y/N's mind.
༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Y/N sighed contentedly as she set the dark wooden table carefully, placing the plates and cutlery impeccably. She had spent the entire afternoon preparing Chris's favorite dish, with fresh ingredients, for the romantic dinner they had planned to have after the triplets recorded the video that would be posted next Friday. Everything was perfect, except for the emptiness that began to settle in her chest as the hours passed and Chris didn't appear.
At eight sharp, Y/N sat at the table, her heart filled with anticipation and anxiety. She watched the stairs leading to the front door with every sound she heard, willing him to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety turned to despair.
Nine o'clock passed, and Y/N was still sitting alone at the table, her stomach churning with hunger and worry and her eyes staring into space, small tears burning her cornea. She tried calling Chris several times, but every call went to voicemail, as well as her messages going unread.
At ten o'clock, Y/N couldn't take it anymore. Thick tears began to stream down her face as she looked at the still untouched plate in front of her. The romantic dinner she had so lovingly prepared now seemed like a cruel reminder of her dashed hope.
With a choked sob, Y/N got up from the table, feeling completely desolate, her belly hurting from the weight and sobs that made her body shake. She carefully put the food away in the fridge, her hands shaking with disappointment.
That night, Y/N fell asleep in her boyfriend's room with a heavy heart and eyes swollen with tears, wondering if she would ever have the courage to take some initiative, before it was too late.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
Y/N was standing in front of the cinema, her heart full of expectation as she held a bucket of popcorn in her hands. She looked from side to side nervously, trying to spot Chris among the crowds rushing along the sidewalk. Time was running out, and her nervousness increased as the clock on her phone showed just ten minutes until the start of the movie, and her boyfriend still hadn't appeared.
And then, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her, Y/N's phone vibrated, indicating a new message. She grabbed the device anxiously, hoping to see an apology or explanation from Chris for the delay. But what she heard was something that made her shake with rage.
"Hi, baby." Chris’s voice sounded through the voicemail, but instead of an apology, there was a note of indifference in his words. "I know we planned to go to the movies today, but a last-minute party came up that I really need to go to. Do you remember Tara Yummy? It's hers! Well, I'm sorry for canceling like that at the last minute. Maybe we can meet up later, okay? Bye."
Y/N felt her world collapse upon hearing those words. Chris's betrayal, his indifference to her feelings as he sent her the message just to break her as if it was some kind of promise, cut like a sharp knife. She clutched her phone tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
Anger and sadness consumed her, bubbling inside her chest like a volcano about to erupt. With a cry of frustration, Y/N threw the bucket of popcorn and the tickets into the nearest trash bin, tears streaming freely down her cheeks as she felt suffocated by disappointment and pain.
And that night, Y/N walked away from the cinema, her heart broken and her confidence destroyed.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
"Chris." She began, shaking her head gently to shake the memories away, her voice trembling with the anguish she carried. "We need to talk."
Chris looked up from his phone for a moment, his tired eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the bright screen in his hands.
"Not now, Y/N. I'm busy."
Those words hit Y/N like a punch in the stomach. She felt increasingly isolated and neglected, while Chris's world revolved around his career and his influential friends.
"You're always busy, Chris." Y/N murmured, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape her eyes. "There's never time for us."
Chris sighed, irritation rising across his skin like a shiver. He closed his eyes for a few seconds before looking up at the girl again, giving her a look full of hatred, which she had never seen before.
"I have responsibilities, Y/N. You know that. I can't just ignore my work to pay attention to you."
"I'm not asking you to ignore it." Y/N snapped, her voice rising in desperation. "I'm just asking for a little time for us. For our relationship. Yesterday you-"
Chris shook his head quickly, interrupting her, the traces of frustration deepening on his face.
"I already said I'm sorry! You always do this, Y/N. You're always trying to change who I am and what I do. You always try to change my priorities, like my world has to revolve around you. That's not how things work!"
Those words cut Y/N like a sharp blade, knocking all the air out of her lungs. She wasn't trying to change him. She just wanted to feel like he cared about her as much as he cared about his fame, but instead, he made her feel like a random crumpled up piece of paper.
"I just want you to include me in your life." Y/N whispered, her voice shaking with pain as her eyes blinked repeatedly, her eyelashes slowly becoming wet with tiny droplets from tears. "But it always seems like there's something more important."
Chris snorted, throwing the phone roughly onto his lap and turning abruptly to face her, an expression of disdain filling his eyes.
"You know what? Maybe it would be better if you took some time to think about what you really want, because it seems to me that everything I do isn't enough, and if you're not genuinely happy in this relationship, maybe you should evaluate your preferences!"
Chris' words echoed in Y/N's mind, leaving her stunned. She felt as if she had been hit by a train of conflicting emotions.
With a lump in her throat, the girl stood up from the couch abruptly, her legs shaking under the weight of her grief as her chest burned intensely, anguish gnawing at her insides.
"Maybe you're right." Y/N muttered, shrugging, her voice cracking with pain. "Maybe I need some time to figure out what I really want... Right?"
Chris watched in silence as Y/N walked away, her tears finally spilling freely down her cheeks, her lips pressed into a thin line tightly in an attempt to stop the sobs that wanted to escape.
The brunette frowned, watching his girlfriend's wet cheeks against the cool light of the room, feeling his chest hurt and his throat tighten, begging to call her back, and apologize, but the words seemed to get stuck.
And so, Y/N left the triplets house that night, taking with her a broken heart and a soul full of uncertainty about the future of their relationship.
     ༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺
The frigid night air bit into Chris' skin as he walked through the empty streets of LA, his body shaking not only from the cold but also from the anxiety and remorse that consumed him. He couldn't bear another night without Y/N by his side, without feeling her comforting touch and hearing her soft laugh filling the silence.
His steps were heavy and slow, each carrying the weight of days of loneliness and regret that piled up on his shoulders. The memory of Y/N's desolate and disappointed face haunted his thoughts, an image that haunted him incessantly, preventing him from finding peace even at bedtime.
Chris knew he had done wrong, that he had hurt the person he loved most in the world with his negligence and misplaced priorities. He blamed himself for his actions, for putting his work and his friends before her, for leaving her alone and helpless at times when she needed him most, or just wanted his company and love.
The mere memory of coming home on Thursday before everything fell apart, and finally seeing all the lost messages from his girl, along with a plate full of his favorite food neatly packed in the fridge made his heart ache as if human hands were squeezing it.
As he made his way through the deserted streets, the silence of the night was deafening, a cruel metaphor for the loneliness he had caused himself. Each step brought him closer to the home that had once been his refuge, the place where he found comfort in Y/N's arms and where he hoped he could right the wrongs he had done.
Finally, the brunette arrived at the door of the small, simple house, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he hesitated to ring the doorbell. He knew he didn't deserve Y/N's forgiveness, that his empty words and broken promises couldn't erase the pain he caused.
But he had to try. He had to show her that he was sorry, that he loved her more than anything in this world, and that he would do anything to have her back by his side.
With a shaky sigh, Chris finally pressed the doorbell and waited, his heart hammering in his chest as he crossed his arms, shifting his weight from one leg to the other in an act of nervousness, the cold of the night penetrating his bones.
On the other side of the door, Y/N hesitated, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she tried to gather the courage to face the stranger that was there. The last few days had been a storm of sadness and loneliness, her mind spinning in circles of anguish as she struggled to understand what had happened between her and Chris, where everything went wrong.
When she finally mustered enough courage to turn the doorknob, what she saw made her freeze in place. Chris was there, standing in front of her, his eyes red and swollen from crying. His face was contorted into an expression of pain and regret, and Y/N felt her heart tighten even more at the sight of the person she loved so much in a deplorable state.
"Chris." Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to process the scene before her eyes.
Chris didn't say anything, he couldn't. He just sobbed, thick tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he fought to contain the overwhelming emotions that overwhelmed him. His body shook violently, each sob a painful reminder of all the mistakes he had made in the last few weeks.
Y/N felt tears in her own eyes as she looked at him, her heart breaking at the pain she saw reflected in his eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward and wrapped Chris in a tight hug, letting him cry on her shoulder as she gently stroked his hair, her own tears silently streaming down her cheeks.
For long minutes, they stayed there, lost in each other's arms that transcended the words and hurts. It was as if, in that moment, their wounded souls found a refuge in each other, a source of comfort and peace amid the chaos their lives had become.
"Baby! B-baby, I'm- I'm so sorry, so fucking sorry-" The boy's words came out in broken sobs, his words almost incomprehensible.
Y/N closed her eyes and took a deep breath, her heart clenching by her own pain. With a sigh, she pulled away lightly, holding his hand firmly and gently guiding him into her house, closing the door behind them, the warmth of the walls enveloping their cold bodies.
Y/N led Chris over to the living room couch, keeping a cautious distance as he sat down next to her on the cushioned seat. Uncomfortable silence hung between them, filled with tension and unspoken emotions, as Y/N waited patiently for Chris to find the words to express what was in his heart.
Finally, after a long moment, Chris broke the silence, his voice still cracked from his recent crying.
"Baby, I... I know I was wrong. I know I hurt you deeply with my actions, and I never wanted to make you feel that way."
Chris sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he tried to find the right words, his right leg bouncing up and down in anxiety.
"I was so obsessed with YouTube, with my success, that I ended up neglecting the most important thing in my life: you. I got lost in the cool lights and the adrenaline of fame, and I forgot how much you mean to me. And I'm so fucking sorry for that." His lower lip trembled slightly, making him trap it between his teeth.
The boy's words cut deep into Y/N, reigniting the pain and hurt she had kept inside. She felt tempted to step away to protect her heart from the possibility of being hurt again. But something in Chris's eyes made her hesitate, something she recognized as genuine regret and love.
"Chris..." Y/N began, her voice shaky and filled with uncertainty. "You don't understand how much it hurt me every time you kept me waiting, every time you put your work and your friends before me. I felt so alone, so unappreciated."
"I know, Y/N. And I'm sorry, from the bottom of my heart. I would do anything to make things right, to prove that you're my real priority." Chris lowered his head, frowning and fixing his eyes on his legs, guilt weighing on his shoulders.
Y/N raised her right hand, taking it to his chin covered with the beard he had let grow in the last few days, pushing it up so that she could look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and desperation reflected there.
She wanted to believe him and wanted to open her heart to forgiveness and the possibility of a future together again. But the pain of everything that had been done brought her such insecurity that she knew she needed time to heal.
"I don't know, Chris." Y/N murmured, the hand that was holding his chin falling with a thud onto her lap. "I'm still hurt, I'm still trying to process everything that happened. I don't know if I can just forgive and forget."
Chris swallowed hard, fear evident in his eyes as his mind screamed at him to do everything, anything. Even if he needed to kneel in front of his girl to get her back.
"Please, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything to make this right, to be the boyfriend you deserve. Just give me a chance to prove that I can change."
Y/N looked at him again, seeing the vulnerability in his gaze. She knew it wouldn't be easy, but there was something about Chris, something she couldn't ignore, something that gave her hope that maybe, just maybe, they could find their way back to the way they were before.
With a resigned sigh, Y/N reached her hand out to Chris again, taking his and intertwining their fingers tightly, her heart warming with the touch she had missed so much.
"I forgive you, Chris." She murmured, her voice sounding soft but her eyes carrying an indescribable firmness. "But know that things are going to have to change. Your priorities are going to have to take the right path this time."
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digitalvision05 · 9 months
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Wooden Tableware to Elevate Your Meals
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Today, where almost every kitchen product is made from stainless steel and other materials, there's an undeniably special quality in the touch of nature. We are introducing our stunning and handmade premium quality wooden tableware collections tha bringing a unique warmth and charm to your everyday meals. Our wooden products are ready to transform your simple acts of eating and drinking into sensory experiences. If you want to explore finest collection of wooden, concrete, and woolen products, you can check out our website.
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5. Wooden Soup Bowl:
Cozy up to a steaming bowl of goodness in our warm, inviting wooden soup bowl. The natural wood insulates your fingers from the heat, while the rich aroma of the broth infuses the wood, creating a sensory treat. Imagine a chilly evening, candles flickering, and everyone huddled around the table, sharing stories and laughter over steaming bowls of soup. It's a moment of family, of warmth, of connection brought together by the simple power of nature.
Our wooden tableware is more than just beautiful objects; it's an invitation to reconnect with nature, to slow down and savor the everyday moments. Each piece is handcrafted with care, infused with the unique character of the wood, and ready to bring a touch of warmth and charm to your table. So go ahead, embrace the natural beauty, and let our wooden tableware transform your meals into moments of mindful joy.
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digitalvision · 8 months
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Wooden Tableware to Elevate Your Meals
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Today, where almost every kitchen product is made from stainless steel and other materials, there's an undeniably special quality in the touch of nature. We are introducing our stunning and handmade premium quality wooden tableware collections tha bringing a unique warmth and charm to your everyday meals. Our wooden products are ready to transform your simple acts of eating and drinking into sensory experiences. If you want to explore finest collection of wooden, concrete, and woolen products, you can check out our website.
Now let’s explore our finest collection of wooden products.
1. Wooden Coffee Cup:
Ah, the humble coffee cup, a vessel not just for caffeine, but for the very essence of the morning. In those quiet pre-dawn hours, before the world fully awakens, the coffee cup becomes a companion, a confidante, and a catalyst for the day ahead. Its importance in the morning ritual cannot be overstated.
Our wooden coffee cup cradles your morning caffeine fix in cozy warmth, the natural wood grain adding a touch of organic elegance to your morning ritual. It's a quiet moment of luxury, just you and your coffee, connected by the simple beauty of nature.
2. Wooden Tea Cup:
Holding a wooden teacup is like cradling a piece of nature itself. The smooth, cool wood feels grounding, connecting you to the earth's raw beauty. Each cup boasts unique grain patterns, a fingerprint of the tree it once was, making it a one-of-a-kind treasure.
As you pour hot water over your favorite leaves, the wood gently infuses the aroma, creating a sensory symphony. Each sip reveals the natural sweetness of the wood, complementing the delicate flavors of your tea. This isn't just a cup, it's an invitation to slow down and savor the moment.
3. Wooden Ice Cream Cup:
Wooden ice cream cups elevate the simple act of enjoying frozen treats to a sensory extravaganza. Forget flimsy paper and sugary cones, these rustic vessels offer a unique blend of charm, sustainability, and taste that's sure to tantalize your senses.
Ditch the boring paper bowls and let the natural charm of wood add a touch of whimsy to your frozen treat. The cool wood against your fingers as you dig in creates a playful contrast, enhancing the simple pleasure of your favorite scoop. It's a reminder that joy comes in the smallest moments, often wrapped in the beauty of nature.
4. Wooden Water Glass:
Forget the predictability of glass and the coldness of plastic – wooden water glasses offer a unique and captivating way to hydrate. Wood, unlike glass or metal, is a natural insulator. This means your iced water stays refreshingly cold, while hot beverages retain their warmth longer, without burning your fingers. It's a comforting embrace in every sip, a delightful interplay between the coolness of the liquid and the gentle warmth of the wood.
Our wooden water glass transforms even the most basic act of hydration into a mindful experience. The cool water against the natural grain creates a gentle sensation, reminding you to savor each sip. It's a celebration of nature's bounty, a reminder to appreciate the beauty in the everyday.
5. Wooden Soup Bowl:
Cozy up to a steaming bowl of goodness in our warm, inviting wooden soup bowl. The natural wood insulates your fingers from the heat, while the rich aroma of the broth infuses the wood, creating a sensory treat. Imagine a chilly evening, candles flickering, and everyone huddled around the table, sharing stories and laughter over steaming bowls of soup. It's a moment of family, of warmth, of connection brought together by the simple power of nature.
Our wooden tableware is more than just beautiful objects; it's an invitation to reconnect with nature, to slow down and savor the everyday moments. Each piece is handcrafted with care, infused with the unique character of the wood, and ready to bring a touch of warmth and charm to your table. So go ahead, embrace the natural beauty, and let our wooden tableware transform your meals into moments of mindful joy.
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apollogrip · 5 months
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Convenience and Style: Paper Plates, Squid Game Keyrings, and Wooden Cutlery Sets in Auckland, NZ
In Auckland, New Zealand, convenience and style go hand in hand when it comes to everyday essentials and unique accessories. From eco-friendly paper plates to trendy Squid Game keyrings and elegant wooden cutlery sets, Auckland offers a diverse range of products to suit every need and taste. Let’s explore these items in more detail and discover why they are popular choices among Aucklanders.
Paper Plates Auckland NZ: Paper plates are a convenient and eco-friendly alternative to traditional dinnerware, perfect for picnics, parties, and outdoor events. In Auckland, NZ, paper plates are available in various sizes and designs to suit different occasions and preferences. Made from biodegradable materials, such as recycled paper or bamboo, these plates are not only lightweight and easy to dispose of but also environmentally sustainable. Whether you’re hosting a barbecue in your backyard or enjoying a picnic at the beach, paper plates in Auckland NZ offer a hassle-free solution for serving food and reducing cleanup time.
Squid Game Keyrings Auckland: Inspired by the popular Netflix series, Squid Game keyrings have become a trendy accessory among Aucklanders looking to add a touch of nostalgia and pop culture to their everyday carry. Featuring iconic symbols and characters from the show, such as the red light, green light doll and the Squid Game logo, these keyrings are both stylish and functional. Made from high-quality materials, such as metal or acrylic, Squid Game keyrings in Auckland are durable and eye-catching, making them the perfect accessory for keys, bags, and backpacks. Whether you’re a fan of the series or simply appreciate quirky accessories, Squid Game keyrings are sure to make a statement wherever you go in Auckland.
Wooden Cutlery Set Auckland: For those who prefer a touch of elegance and sustainability in their dining experience, wooden cutlery sets are a popular choice in Auckland. Crafted from sustainable and biodegradable materials, such as bamboo or birchwood, wooden cutlery sets offer a stylish and eco-friendly alternative to disposable plastic utensils. Available in sleek and modern designs, these sets typically include forks, knives, and spoons, perfect for enjoying meals at home or on the go. Whether you’re hosting a dinner party or packing a lunch for work, wooden cutlery sets in Auckland add a touch of sophistication to any dining occasion in Auckland.
In conclusion, paper plates, Squid Game keyrings, and wooden cutlery sets are popular items in Auckland, NZ, offering convenience, style, and sustainability to residents and visitors alike. Whether you’re hosting a gathering, expressing your fandom, or embracing eco-friendly living, these products cater to a variety of needs and preferences in Auckland’s diverse and vibrant community.
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n1ght0f-nyx · 12 days
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Woven bonds
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You've been sold to an orc by your father, and have now been shutting yourself in, laying in bed and hardly eating, pert'ah wants that to change. warnings/tags- bedrotting hints, arranged marrige but pertah loves you so thats nice, i love my ocs i wanna eat them, pert'ah speaks with semi-broken english
word count- 698
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The wooden door of Pert'ah's hut creaked shut as he stepped inside, his heavy boots brushing against the woven rugs scattered on the floor. The interior of the hut was small but tidy, with simple furniture and shelves adorned with the intricate tapestries and sculptures he had crafted over the years. The air smelled of pine and earth, a scent that was both comforting and foreign.
You, however, lay motionless on the straw bed, back turned to him. For days, you had barely moved from that spot. You refused to eat the meals he prepared, refused to speak, refused to even acknowledge him. It was your silent protest—your way of fighting back against this life you had never asked for.
Pert'ah stood near the door for a moment, watching you in the dim light. His brow furrowed in concern as he set down the woven basket he had carried from the nearby river. His broad shoulders tensed as he approached the bed quietly, careful not to startle you.
"[Name]," he said softly, his voice deep and gravelly but holding an unfamiliar tenderness. "You no eat again… you need food."
You didn't respond. Your mind buzzed with anger and sorrow. This was your life now—sold to an orc by your own father to secure peace with a clan your people had always looked down upon. You had been reduced to nothing more than a bargaining chip, and it hurt. The idea of even speaking to Pert'ah felt like giving in.
Pert'ah sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed with a heaviness that made the frame creak. He didn’t touch you, knowing you wouldn’t welcome it. Instead, he glanced at the clay plate he had left beside the bed the day before—untouched, the stew inside long since cold.
"I make for you. I try make what you like," he murmured, almost to himself. "Not same as your kind, I know… but I try."
He shifted, staring down at his hands—rough, scarred, and calloused from years of weaving and shaping clay. He didn’t understand human customs, not completely. But he understood enough to know you were suffering, and that made him suffer too.
"I know you no want this. I no want hurt you," Pert'ah continued. "I not like other orcs. I make art… make beauty, no war. But I… I want you be happy, even here. I want to try… if you try too."
You squeezed your eyes shut tighter, fighting the well of emotions building inside you. His words, though broken, were sincere. He was nothing like the cruel, brutish orcs you had been raised to fear. He was gentle, soft-spoken. But it didn’t change the fact that you were trapped.
"Please, [Name]," he said after a moment, his voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper. "I know I am… orc. I know you see me and think less. But I see you, and I see… everything. You are strong, kind… beautiful. You no have to love me. I no ask that. But… please, live. I no want you suffer. I will give you what I can, always."
His words hit you harder than you expected, the vulnerability in them gnawing at your resolve. The anger in your chest burned, but so did the guilt. Pert'ah wasn’t the enemy. He had never asked for this either.
Still, you said nothing. You weren’t ready. Not yet.
Pert'ah stood after a few minutes of silence, his movements slow and deliberate. "I leave food here, if you want later," he said, placing a fresh bowl of soup on the small table beside the bed. "I go work now. But… I always here. If you need."
With that, he turned and walked out of the hut, leaving the door open just a crack to let in the cool breeze.
You lay there for what felt like hours, staring at the simple wooden ceiling, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Slowly, your gaze drifted to the bowl of soup beside the bed. It smelled of unfamiliar herbs, but something about it was comforting. Hesitantly, you sat up, the blanket slipping from your shoulders.
at least you knew you weren't alone
536 notes · View notes
fanfictionera · 8 months
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My Queen (BuckyxReader) Smut
A/N: I have always wanted to write a Sex Pollen fic but every time I tried to write one it didn't feel right. Finally I started writing and the vibes started flowing. I wanted filthy smut but with emotion and feeling and I hope that I achieved that. Either way I am super proud of this and I hope readers enjoy!
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Synopsys: The reader and Bucky are sent on a mission where they are exposed to what is referred to as Sex Pollen. Their feelings for each other are forced to be faced.
Word Count: 6,218
Warnings: Sex Pollon, Friends to Lovers, forced sex (due to drugs), sprinkle of Angst, Bucky, SMUT, SMUT SMUT SMUT. SO LITTLE PLOT.
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My Queen
Bucky stood in the back of the Quinjet, checking over his person. It was like a ritual for him, starting from the top he would check every strap and belt, double check each gun and knife blade. His body swayed, compensating for the slight lurch of the Quinjet before it leveled out.
“And we have touched down,” Y/N said from the pilot's seat, with a press of a button her chair spun around. She came up behind Bucky gently tugging on his back harness. The back of the Quinjet dropped down, revealing several structures in a clearing, surrounded by trees. They began to make their way to the larger building in the center. The clearing was shrouded in a dark gray filter as the misty fog creeped its way through the trees, under a sky blanketed by cloud cover, reclaimed by nature. A scan showed no signs of human life, which was little in the way of relief.
They silently approached the front door before stepping into the building. A home. The remnants of one anyway. They entered the kitchen, with a table still made. Flowers in a porcelain milk jug left dead, wilted and dried in the center. A plate sat next to a folded newspaper. Y/N could feel the shift in the air as soon as they walked in. The weight of the secrets of the house, hidden behind the semblance of a quiet life, mixed with the pure evil that seeped from its walls in tendrils made Y/N uneasy. 
They progressed through the first and second level of the home. Although every surface was covered in a thick layer of dust each room sat pristine, frozen in time as if the owner just ceased to exist. One of many of Hydra’s calling cards.
They made their way back outside and to the side of the house. Y/N turned scanning the tree line as Bucky yanked and cleared away brush that covered the storm doors nestled against the house. Nature revealed the chained and padlocked metal doors.
Bucky pulled the chain, breaking it in his metal hands. The parts slipped through his fingers like sand. The doors opened with a gut dropping creek revealing a set of stairs leading down into a dirt floor cellar. 
“Ladies First.” He waved his hand as he motioned his hand forward, his eyes scanning behind Y/N. 
She walked forward, “What a gentleman.”
The cellar was packed hard, the air was stale and stagnant. The wooden shelves that lined the stone wall held glass jars full of canned food. 
Bucky walked to the corner, moving a basket out of the way, revealing a hatch. 
The ladder led down to a concrete room, with the only doorway being a gated elevator shaft. An electrical box was mounted on the wall. Bucky opened it and began to check it over before pulling the large handle down. It made a large metallic thunk as Bucky forced the handle down. A soft wiring noise began to buzz.
Bucky pulled the metal gate to the side, ushering Y/N into the car, he closed the gate after he stepped on and reached for the hand crank on the side. Slowly the metal gears began to move and creak as the elevator descended. “Why does every Hydra base have a creepy elevator?” Y/N asked as she took in the rust-streaked walls of the shaft illuminated by dingy yellowing lights that flickered as they warmed up. 
“Günter did suggest rainbows and butterflies, but as you can see, he was outvoted.” Y/N tried to hide her smile as she rolled her eyes.
The elevator came to a stop as it reached the bottom of the shaft, pulling the gate aside again, they found themselves in a storm of destruction “What is this place?”
“It's a lab, was a lab.” Bucky looked around, “I don't believe I was ever here, but it's where they developed all kinds of fun.”
They began to clear the room, flashlight in hand. Tables sat disheveled and tipped over, their contents scattered. Papers littered every surface like confetti. Various medical equipment and hardware mixed and mingled with the papers, while every box of a computer was shattered or broken. As if someone punched every screen. Several lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling, attached by a few wires, while others found their way to the floor. Bucky held a dangling light to the side, letting Y/N walk through before following.
She scanned the room as she took another step, a loud popping crunch noise made her jump, she looked down, lifting her foot, to see the glass shards sprayed across the floor. 
Bucky laughed as he pushed past her. “You’ve been playing to many zombie games,”
“Shut up.” She walked behind him.
Bucky laughed again as he held his arms out, doing his best zombie impression, ‘Brainsss.” He turned to grab her head. “No brainsssss”
Y/N shoved him playfully, "Can we just do this and get the hell out of here?" Bucky chuckled as he clicked on his flashlight and continued sweeping the lab with a smug smile on his face. Y/N wasn't going to lie, nothing about this place made her feel good. She wasn't sure if it was because of its history or its current state, either way she was very much looking forward to leaving. 
As they continued into the next room, Y/N eyes came to rest on Bucky’s back. They trailed across his harness, how it spanned across his wide shoulders. The dim lights still highlighted the muscular lines built into the metal of his arm. Bucky paused for a moment, pivoting on his heel to double check a dark corner. His face was concentrated, eyes trained. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have them trained on her. 
She shook her head, focus, she mouthed to herself. With the room cleared they were moving forward again; her eyes came to the back of his head and down his back. They slowly trailed down to his ass, framed perfectly in his tactical pants, the seams accentuating his curve. 
Suddenly Bucky stopped, looking up at a mess of chains, “Let’s see what's behind door number one.” He put his flashlight between his teeth as he began to roll his sleeve up his flesh arm. 
Y/N watched, entranced by the simple action, she glanced up to see Bucky watching her. He smiled around the flashlight; he reached up with this metal hand taking the source of light. He took several steps toward her before bringing his hand up to her jaw.
“That’s what does it for you?” he swiped his thumb against her bottom lip before swiping his thumb down, pulling her lip with it. “Is it my arm?”
She nodded.
“Or is it my fingers?” Her eyes dilated as Bucky chuckled leaning forward, “Do you want my fingers?” She could feel his breath against her skin as he walked behind her, his flesh hand reaching around, grasping the toggle of her zipper. She could hear each tooth unzip as he pulled the zipper down its full length. The coolness of the metal left a tingling sensation as he followed in the zipper wake, his palm slid down her stomach, closer to her aching core. Her breathing became heavy as her head began to spin.
“Hey,” Bucky’s voice sounded firm, the look of concern evident “Are you okay?”
The world came crashing back in a blink of her eye. Her eyes snapped open to find Bucky standing in front of her, still messing with the chains. She shook her head trying to shake off the ghost feeling of his touch. Y/N took a deep breath, her brow began to pull together, "Do you smell that?” She takes another deep breath through her nose, “It's almost sweet, floral, its faint.”
Bucky looked at her puzzled, the air around them smelled musty and old. Then the realization hit him. "Shit.” With the chains forgotten, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her back down where they came, “Where is that vile you stepped on?”
His touch was distracting, “Over, over there, I think?" He let go of her, "What's going on?” Y/N asked as Bucky began searching the ground.
He turned still looking, “Just, please, we need to find it.”
She walked back over a row and kicked a pile of papers, a cracked vile rolled out, “It's right here.” The end was still intact, the label holding the shards together.
Copulation Stimulant 
Y/N’s eyes read over the label, “Is this?” She looked back down again hoping she read it wrong, “This is, oh my god--no-no-no-no.” She dropped the vile again, the realization setting in, her hands coming to her face as she rambled, “I can't do this, this has to be some cruel joke. Yeah? It’s labeled wrong? I can’t actually fuck my best friend…I can't--”
11-197020-43
“Oh, come on now,” As Y/N began to spiral Bucky knelt down to confirm his suspicion, "Best Friend!?" He tried to joke, to keep Y/N with him. "Nat might fight me for that title."
"Stop. I'm serious. You don't understand," She began shaking slightly, overwhelmed as the tears began to fall down her cheek. 
Bucky's smug smile dropped from his face as he took in Y/N’s state, his eyebrows knitted together.
Y/N's chest tightened as she looked up at him. “I can’t fuck my best friend because I’m in love with my best friend."
"Sweetheart" The word came out of Bucky’s mouth like an exhale as he took in her words. 
“Oh my god, am I going to fuck my best friend, who I’m in love with, for the first time in a dingy old Hydra base." Y/N's mind was moving a million miles a second. A heat began to spread from her core, she took a deep breath. 
“Come on,” Bucky gently grabbed her arm, "Not here, let's get back to the Quinjet, okay?”
Y/N shook her head as she let Bucky lead her out of the bunker. She could feel the heat spreading throughout her body, like water slowly trickling down through the soil, saturating each grain as it was pulled down by gravity. It felt invasive. 
The Quinjet bay door began to close as Bucky climbed into the pilot's chair. Y/N sat in the back, her breath becoming heavy. "I'm getting really hot." 
“Like little pin pricks of heat all over your skin?" The Quinjet shook slightly as it rose into the sky.
"Yeah-h" Y/N said as a sheen of sweat began to cover her face. 
"It's hitting you faster." He quickly flipped some switches before getting up out of the chair, he grabbed a med kit duffle bag out of the closet before kneeling in front of her.
Y/N's brow slowly pulled together, "Why?"
"It's designed for super soldiers." Bucky began as he pulled out and cracked a jelly ice pack, instantly making it cold before placing it on her neck. "Which means it's stronger for you."
Y/N felt the sting of the cold radiate, "Okay, okay…okay. What's going to happen?" Her head swirled as she placed her hand over his that held the ice pack, grounding herself. “Be honest.”
Bucky took a deep breath, unable to pull his gaze from her pleading one. "Your adrenaline will slowly rise, until your heart feels like it's going to burst and every cell in your body is vibrating." He flipped the ice pack to the other side of her neck. "It's going to alter chemicals in your brain, driving up your sex drive and arousal." His chest began to heave as he began to feel the effects. “At the same time, it will lower your inhibitions and block all sense of self control.”
Y/N took a deep breath through her nose. "And sex is the only way?"
"No, we can ride this out." Bucky said as he also breathed deep. "It will be torture, an ache of a pain that will thunder through your existence. Every second you resist will feel like one second closer to death, but it won't kill you."
Y/N fought through another wave of heat before responding, "I don't know what to do. It's getting hard to think."
"Yeah." Bucky knew what was to come. How many hours they would have to endure if they waited it out. He dropped the ice pack, now warm, before bringing his hands up to the sides of Y/N's face, pulling her focus back. "Listen to me," He took a moment, “Never in a million years would I have wanted this to be our first time." He let out another grunt as he fought another wave, a smirk appeared through it. "I planned on asking you out, on a real date, before I led you to my bed. To treat you like a queen. My queen.” Tears threatened the corners of Y/N's eyes. Her heart was beating in her ears, and it felt like years as they leaned forward, their foreheads resting against each other. “If we do this now, it won't be like that, you need to know once I start, I will not be able to stop. You will not be able to stop."
Her fingers came up dragging down the edge of his scruff-covered jaw line. “I understand. I trust you, please, I trust you.”
The moment his lips touched hers everything stopped. Bucky physically felt Y/N's body relax as her lips began to move against his. She snaked her hands up his chest and behind his neck before pulling herself off the back of the chair and as close to him as she could. 
Y/N got lost in the intense high created, everything slowed down and hazed over. A dull, mind numbing, wave of emotions swirled in her brain as all sense of time was lost till eventually it wound itself into a ball and exploded against the back of her eyelids. The heat began to fade, leaving a chill across her skin. Her head felt empty and tired. Mentally she couldn't string two coherent thoughts together. Her body felt loose, and her eyes watered as a tear slid down. 
"Hey, it's over." Bucky was catching his breath as he held her head in his hand, looking into her eyes, "it's over," her gaze was distant. 
"Shit." Bucky held onto her, held her close as he began rummaging through the duffle bag, "Come on, there you are." Bucky returned to Y/N, "Y/N, doll, I need you to take this. It will help, can you do that?"
Y/N Glanced down at the small syringe in his hand, "What is it?" The words slurred and tired.
"It will let you sleep till we get back and Bruce can help." Bucky replied softly. 
The tears began to stream down her face, "I'm feeling everything. At once."
“I know. It’s the drug, a side effect.” Bucky took her hand, “Sleep will help.”
“Okay,” Y/N shook her head as she sniffled. Within moments of the liquid entering her blood stream, Y/N's eyes became heavy, and her body relaxed as she drifted off. Bucky gently maneuvered her, placing her on her side across several seats. He fixed her suit, now ripped wide open from navel down to her exposed thighs, her breasts out on display. He pulled the sides of the fabric, covering her the best he could before he grabbed one of the packs of the on-board pillows and blankets, ripping it out of its packaging. He positioned the small pillow under her head and draped the blanket over her body before cleaning himself up and making his way to the cockpit. 
Bucky listened and waited for her to fall into a deep sleep before grabbing the headset. "Friday, please connect me with Steve and Bruce."
"Right away," Friday responded as two small transparent screens appeared in front of Bucky's face. 
Steve's face was scrunched as he slowly woke up, "Hey, what time is it?"
"Two." Bruce replied as he did a double take, pulling on his glasses, "In the morning."
"There's been a situation," Bucky's voice was low, Steve's attention was immediately caught, and he finally took in Bucky's appearance, "We came into contact…with a substance," Bucky looked back again making sure Y/N was still out, "It was developed by Hydra for their breeding program, they called it copulation stimulant, but everyone referred to it as sex pollen." As the Quinet silently made the trek back to the compound, Bucky filled them in.
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Bucky tossed and turned in bed, he rolled over, sheets tangled around his legs and stared up at the ceiling. Taking a deep breath he reached over for his phone, the screen turned on showing it was only mid-morning. 
He rubbed his face before kicking his sheets off and sitting up on the edge of the bed. He stared down at his floor, his mind taking over sucking him back into that moment. Flashes of Y/N's face, filled with fear, overwhelmed with emotions and emptiness played on repeat. 
He blinked away the images as he made his way out of his room. Bucky walked down the hall towards Steve's room. 
Steve sat at his table; papers strewn about as he caught up on his paperwork. He heard the knock before Bucky walked in. 
"How are you feelin'?" Steve asked as Bucky slumped into a chair, aimlessly picking up a piece of paper, setting it back down, not interested. 
"How is she?" Is all Bucky asked. 
Steve pushed a tablet towards him, "Medically speaking, she's okay, nothing more than a few bruises."
Bucky looked down at the screen, a mission report, currently on the recorded incidents page. His eyes instantly skimmed and settled on Y/N's list of injuries before swiping through the rest of the report.
"I decided not to include the details." Steve continued as Bucky sat the tablet down with an exhale. Steve slowly set down the pen as he leaned back in his chair slightly. "Buck, how are you?"
"Angry." Bucky shook his head. "For me to go through it again, fine. But not her."
"Did Hydra use this stuff often?" Steve's brow pulled up softly. 
Bucky's lips flashed a sad smile with a huff of a laugh, "It cycled through. They called it a compliance tool." He looked at his friend, "Sometimes they would call it a reward." 
"Jesus." Steve let out under his breath. 
“They had an endless supply of compliance tools and rewards.” Bucky shrugged slightly, "I'm okay Steve, honestly.”
"I was going to go check on her in a bit.” Steve leaned forward and picked up his pen again as he glanced up at the clock on the wall. "Bruce gave her something to help her sleep more, rest is probably the best for her right now, so she probably won't be stirring for another hour or two." Bucky nodded his head slightly as Steve spoke.
Steve watched as Bucky began to slip back into his thoughts. "Hey," His voice pulled Bucky's eyes to him. "You guys will be dancing around each other again soon enough."
"I told her." Bucky's confession came out softly. "How I feel, right before I railed her brains out in a fit of uncontrollable horny rage." 
“I’m sorry, what?” Steve sat staring at his friend, “You thought, that after being exposed to a chemical weapon used to sexually exploit their victims, yeah this is a good time to confess my feelings to the woman I’ve been absolutely obsessed with since the first day I saw her?”
"Yup," Bucky popped the p, "In my defense she confessed first.”
“Unbelievable,” Steve pinched, “Why are you two like this?”
“In love? Or Insane?” Bucky asked back with a shrug,
Steve crossed his arms as he leaned back, “Go talk to her you jerk."
Y/N’s room was dark, every curtain pulled tight and not a single light was on. She had woken up several times only to roll over and fall back asleep, not wanting or ready to face the world yet. She lay on her belly, letting herself lay there, her head spiraling with thoughts. She grabbed for her phone, the brightness from the screen making her recoil, it was already close to two in the afternoon. She rolled back over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. 
“What's wrong with me?” She asked quietly to herself. 
She never wanted to experience sex pollen again, it scared her to her core to have her own free will taken away. Her heartbeat picked up as she thought about it, a panic slowly bubbling. She took a deep breath, “We can ride this out.” His words echoed in her head. “I wanted to take you out on a date. Treat you like a queen. My queen.” Her heart stuttered a moment as she took another deep breath. 
A knock at her door drew her attention. Slowly she rose from her bed, just as she approached the door another soft knock came. She reached for the handle and opened it to find Bucky standing with a paper bag in hand.
She stared at him, her words stuck in her throat, “Team ordered out, I got your favorite.” Bucky held the paper bag up. “I, um, I wanted to check in and.."  He paused as he shrugged.
Y/N could see the anxiety and pain behind his eyes. She stepped closer to him, her hands coming to the sides of his torso and sliding back, as she hugged him. 
As if on que Y/N stomach growled and she let out a small laugh. She pulled back, taking the bag from Bucky. “Thank you, I don't think I ate anything in the med bay when we got back.” She turned into the room, “Wanna come in?"
As Y/N walked back in, she flicked on a few lamps, creating a soft glow. Bucky closed the door behind him, unsure of what to do. Her desk was sitting just far away to be awkward but the only other place to sit would be her bed, somewhere he had never thought twice about before as he would just sit down or jump in. Now? He was acutely aware of his actions, and it created a ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.
“Bucky, you're welcome to sit on my bed.” Y/N noticed his hesitation.
He shrugged. “I didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” 
“You aren't” Y/N said as she pulled a plate down from a cabinet in her Kitchenette. 
Bucky paused for a moment before taking a deep breath, "What's going through your head?" Y/N stopped what she was doing, food forgotten as he continued. "Be honest."
Y/N turned, leaning against the counter, to face him. She crossed her arms as she took a moment to bring her words forward, "Did you mean what you said?" her question was soft and quiet. "Your queen." She blinked her gaze up to his.
Bucky let out a huff of a laugh, the corner of his mouth pulling up, “I remember the day you arrived at the compound.” He continued. “That morning Steve and I were set to leave to go on a recon mission. We were going back to the Siberian Hydra base; I hadn't been back since the airport incident. I was an absolute mess leading up to it.” Bucky looked down at his hands as he absentmindedly followed the lines and seams of his metal finger with this flesh. “I probably shouldn't have gone.” He paused again. “I had come so far, the words out of my head, a family around me and I had finally thought I found peace. Yet the moment I stepped back into that room, I looked upon that pit with that monstrosity of a machine still sitting there. I lost it. It instantly triggered a spiral of anger and I felt pushed right back down to my lowest existence.” Bucky kept his eyes trained on the floor. “Steve watched as I destroyed the machine, before helping me calm down. We got the answers we needed, well Steve got the answers we needed. When we got back, I was so far stuck in my head, but then I heard this laughter, it was light and contagious.” Bucky looked up at Y/N who was giving him her full attention. “Your laughter.”
“I followed that sound, until I saw you. Sitting at the counter, a smile on your face and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. For the first time since I could remember I could feel this spark of a flame ignite inside of me.” Bucky continued. “This spark that created light and hope and feeling. It only grew. Day after day. It grew with your kindness and confidence. Your strength and your intelligence. That day you took Steve down, he played it off, but I knew that you had genuinely taken him by surprise, I could see it in his eyes. So, I let myself fall in love, I let that light grow into a raging blaze. Until I found myself trying to muster up the courage to tell you while simultaneously trying not to take you where you stood. Ask me again, ask me if I meant what I said.”
Tears were building up in Y/N’s eyes, “Did you mean it?”
"Every word." There was no hesitation in his response as he didn't look away. "I would worship every inch of your mind and body, if you'd let me."
The world began to fade away as Y/N's heart began to beat faster. Bucky's words swirled in her head as she tried to comprehend their meaning as if she couldn't believe them. Bucky sat patiently watching as Y/N slowly walked up to him. Her gaze uncertain, he could feel the tension in the air, as the line they both were hesitant to cross was quickly approaching.
Y/N tentatively stepped between his legs. She could feel the tug of war between her anxiety and adrenaline as she reached to touch his face. She moved her thumb across his jaw, Bucky could see her mind taking off.
He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, "Look at me." Y/N stood quiet for a moment as she took in his unwavering gaze. "What do you need?”
Y/N took a deep breath, "To be your queen.”
He gently pulled her closer. His lips pressed against hers, a tingling sensation ran through her body. Y/N felt Bucky’s hands gently slide down to the crook of her knees. He pulled her up onto his lap, sliding his hands over her thighs following the curve of her ass, before pulling her flush as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a gentle urgency as they began to get lost in each other. In that moment, nothing else mattered - no worries or fears, no past or future. There was only the heat of the moment, the electricity between them.
Y/N let her fingers sink back into his hair, tugging slightly, as a low moan tumbled from Bucky’s mouth. “I need more.” Y/N said as Bucky kissed down to the nape of her neck.
He slid his hands up under the hem on her shirt, letting them slowly trail up her sides. Her chest heaved as his thumbs ghosted the underside of her breasts. 
She pulled herself off him, sliding herself back to stand between his legs again, slowly she pulled her shirt up and over her head. He reached up and pulled his own shirt over his head, discarding it. He leaned back, picking up his hips as he pulled his pants down, kicking them off. His length sprung up to full attention and Y/N’s eyes dilated. She stood back admiring Bucky, taking in his sheer size, she bit her lip as her core began to pulse. 
“Come here,” Bucky’s words pulled her in like a lure.
As she climbed back on his lap her hands came to the side of his face and pulled him into her lips. A breathy sigh of a moan escaped Y/N. She lifted herself up on her knees, pushing him slightly back to get to the right angle. She could feel his tip resting at her entrance.
Bucky nudged her nose with his, getting her to look at him. She held eye contact as she slowly slid down, feeling herself stretch around him until she bottomed out. A broken gasp fell from Y/N as the feeling of fullness made her body shutter, Bucky’s stomach twitched in response. She slowly began to roll her hips. His hands squeezed her thighs as he let out a swallowed moan. Her pace quickened until her hips began to fall out of rhythm as she desperately chased her release. 
"That's it sweetheart," His words of encouragement doused in an aroused tone. He felt her sides flutter. He could feel her pressing down on him. He kissed the edge of her jaw as his other hand cupped the back of her head before slowly sliding his lips down her neck. Grazing over her nipples. Another flutter. Her hand slid up into his hair and gently pulled him closer, pressing her nipple to his lips.  The way she took what she wanted made him feral. "Fuck" Bucky whispered. The sound was low and guttural, skittering over her skin like wildfire. 
With every heavy breath a moan escaped. With the last roll of her hips her orgasm exploded through her. Y/N's let out a choked moan as her knees clenched together on either side of Bucky. She felt his metal fingers splayed across her back and his flesh held onto her waist. 
Still fully seated, She let her head fall onto his shoulder as she attempted to catch her breath. Bucky pressed his lips to the other side of her neck before tipping her head back up to see her face. She felt like she was floating in euphoria.
"Feeling good?" Bucky's hand cradled her head. 
A smile spread on her face as she nodded into his hand. "I need more."
Bucky pulled her face to his, guiding her to his lips. Kissing her slowly as he reached his hands behind her, sliding them down her back. He began kissing down her neck and chest as she leaned back slightly. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, feeling Y/N pulse around his sheathed member. He let it fall from his mouth watching the soft skin bounce slightly before latching on again. Y/N squirmed, grinding down, desperate for any movement. 
Bucky gripped her hips and pressed her down further as he worshipped her chest. "James," His name came out as a broken whine. 
"Say that again." Bucky instructed, "Say my name."
"Ja-ahhhh-mes" He sucked her nipple again as she spoke. 
He smirked slightly as he slid his hands under her ass and stood up, Y/N held on as Bucky turned them around and dropped her on the bed. Y/N rubbed her thighs together from the loss of friction. Bucky watched for a moment before Y/N let her legs fall open. Splayed fully open for him, Bucky instantly crawled over, his breath against her sex making her shutter. His lips trailed kisses up her stomach. 
“How many nights have you imagined me like this?” A low chuckle came from Bucky, “Not just nights, and not just this.” He sucked her nipple between his teeth, making her gasp, before he soothed the shock away with his tongue. Y/N’s fingers ghosted over his hairline as she slid them back into his hair, he looked up at her and his eyes darkened as he sunk down and ran his tongue flat against her core. 
Her fingers curled, pulling his hair as her back arched off the bed. Electricity buzzed and exploded up over her body. His hands gripped her hips, keeping her from going too far.
Y/N fell further into bliss as Bucky explored her folds with his tongue. Soft moans spilled between her breaths. She gasped as he slowly inserted a finger, moving it in and out, then two, he felt her walls constrict as he slowly moved and curled his fingers. Y/N began to rock her hips against his face. His lips captured her clit sucking softly before pulling back, letting it fall from his lips. Y/N’s mouth fell open as the filthiest moan fell from her lips. 
He began rubbing his lips and tongue against her in a smooth pattern that felt like a love letter. Her hands gripped his, slipping back to his wrists as she writhed with him, completely letting him guide her over the edge. 
A choked moan came as Y/N’s legs squeezed Bucky’s head. She involuntarily curled up. Bucky wiped his mouth as he sat back on his knees, bringing his fingers up, sucking them clean.
He reached down and grasped her thighs, pulling them up and over his. He leaned back down, letting his hands slide up her torso, up and under her breasts, as his lips found hers once more. 
Y/N could feel his tip at her entrance, and it sent a shiver down her spine. 
She clung to his shoulders, nails dragging across his skin as he slowly pushed himself to his base. She felt the stretch as Bucky began to roll his hips, slowly dragging himself in and out. He began to pick up his pace, to read her body and follow her needs. Y/N hand snaked back around Bucky’s neck, as he sat back up on his knees, she clung to him as he continued his relentless pace. Y/N gripped onto the back of his neck with one hand as she found his knee with her other hand, propping herself up. There was no need however, as Bucky held her up, with his metal hand firmly on her ass and his flesh arm wrapped around the small of her back. He watched as her eyes rolled back into her head, his lips catch and dragged up her neck before sucking on her pulse.
Y/N’s body trembled as she fought to hold back, selfishly wanting more yet not knowing if she could take it. 
She felt her core wound as tight as it would go, unable to hold on to it any longer, she let go. Her body shuttered and Bucky could feel her orgasm pulse around him, squeeze him. He continued, fucking her through, dragging her out as far as he could. He was close and couldn't take it anymore. He let Y/N fall back onto the bed, as he pulled out and finished on her stomach. 
Their breathing was heavy as Bucky leaned over once more, bringing his hand up to Y/N face, her eyes glossed over in euphoria. “Are you okay?’
“Yeah,” She shook her head as she let out a sigh, “More than,”
A smile spread across Bucky’s face as he kissed her, “I am going to go get the shower ready for you, is that okay?”
Y/N Shook her head again before gently pressing her lips to his. “I need to lay here for a moment.”
“You just lay here and look pretty,” Bucky pulled himself off the bed.
Bucky walked into the bathroom, turning the water on to let it warm up. He quickly washed himself and cleaned up before setting up the bathroom for Y/N. He pulled a fresh towel out, placing it in the warmer next to the shower. A purchase that at first, he thought was ridiculous but has since rescinded that opinion. 
He heard Y/N soft pitter pats as she walked in, the steam beginning to form and build. “All set, towel is in the warmer.”
“Thank you,” Y/N said as she made her way to the shower.
“Don't be too long, your food will get cold.” Bucky kissed her forehead before he left Y/N to clean up as he went back out and continued to reheat the food, he had gotten for her. While the microwave hummed, he stripped the bed and stretched new sheets from corner to corner. Laid out the blankets and pulled them back slightly ready for Y/N to crawl in. 
He pulled down another plate for himself before playing up the food. Just as he finished cleaning up Y/N walked out. “Smells good.” She came up to Bucky’s side, wrapping a hand around his arm, leaning against his shoulder. “I am so hungry,” a laugh escaped Y/N, her head moved slightly as Bucky moved his arm. “Go eat, I’ll be right there with some water.”
“Thank you,” Y/N grabbed the plate and took a deep smell through her nose and smiled. “You really did get my favorite.” She said as she settled in on the bed and took a bite.
Bucky sat a cup of water down on her side table before crawling in to join her, “I know. I know all your favorites.”
“Oh?” Y/N asked as she took another bite. 
“And I have the rest of the night to figure out the ones I don't know.” A blush spread across Y/N’s cheeks. 
“I am looking forward to it.” She smiled as she glanced over at Bucky. “I could get use to this queen shit.”
“Oh, you just wait Doll,” Bucky replied. “I am just getting started.”
-End-
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M!Naga x F!Reader (NSFW)
Themes/Warnings: Nsfw, breeding/oviposition, aphrodisiac themes, monster x reader, fantasy world, mute monster Words: 4.5k Notes:  Hi Hi! Here is this month's free story! A quick tangle with a Naga. Hope you enjoy!
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The front wooden door creaked softly as you pushed it open. The soft chime of the bell that hung over the entrance echoed through the shop like a lullaby. It was a much needed relief from the hustle and bustle of the city outside. 
One you traversed through all morning to drop off Isiah’s order. 
“Isiah?” You called towards the back of the store. Where a set of red curtains separated the front of the shop, with many shelves and tables of goods, from the rest of the establishment. 
You heard a returning chime, similar to the bell above the door but much deeper in tone. An answer from the shop owner who was no doubt busy and was signaling to give him a second. 
You decided to wander the store while you waited. Keeping your pack of herbs and roots securely on your back so you don't accidentally knock over anything. 
You browsed the many potions and elixirs that looked both delicious and mesmerizing as they swirled in their small bottles. 
Then moved on to the table of baked goods. Some of which still had a trail of steam wafting off of them. A fresh batch of brownies that smelled absolutely wonderful caught your eye immediately. 
Your stomach gave a hard reminder that you forgot to eat breakfast this morning. 
The sound of rustling curtains brought your attention from the mouth-watering display to the store owner as he slithered out between the silk linings. 
He wore loose veil’s of purple silks and velvet today. So thin in fact that you got a very easy opportunity to gawk at his broad chest; two thick plates of silver scales that melted into the deep navy blue of his serpentine tail. His dark human complexion split apart with his too wide smile as you hurried over to the counter. His hands folded smoothly over each other in Sign before he eagerly plucked open the pack and peered inside. 
“A successful harvest?” He had asked. And you nodded, allowing him to start pulling out various leafy bundles and thick dirt covered roots. 
“It was. Spring has apparently come early this year. I managed to get some of the things that weren’t on your priority list.” You pointed out the leather pouch of flower petals and seeds. Which made the spines along Isiah’s tail quiver excitedly. 
His hands were a blur with his response. “You treat me like royalty, (y/n). You will be compensated, of course.” 
You nodded and waited by the counter as Isiah dipped back behind the curtain, disappearing from sight. 
While you were waiting, a couple wandered into the store. They browsed briefly but seemed to already know what they were buying. Taking their time to browse any new stock but immediately take a few vials from a shelf that passed. Seeming to know the place well. 
They lined up behind you, talking idly until Isiah returned. His smile was welcoming when he spotted his two new customers. And he placed down a pouch of coins in front of you before Signing a question to the couple. 
“The usual?” He asked with a mischievous glint to his sharp gaze. 
“Of course. Why change what works?” The first customer chuckled and fished out some coins to pass into Isiah’s waiting hand. Once the coins were counted, Isaiah leaned over and pulled back the red curtains for the couple to pass through. 
They continued to chat as they disappeared into the back of the shop. But their voices were silenced when the curtain fell back into place. 
“It’s good to see business wasn’t damaged by that review article.” You said, matching your teasing words with an equally joking smile. 
Isiah rolled his eyes, flashing you his fangs in a silent hiss as he feigned anger. His hands spoke his reply. 
“To be honest, that article has increased my revenue. My loyal customers now make reservations weeks in advance so they have a spot amongst all the new bloods.” 
Isiah pushed the pouch of coins closer to you across the counter. “I doubled what I usually pay you since you brought me back so much. But I do have a request, if you’re free today.” 
“A request?” You asked, picking up the swollen bag of money to throw into your pack. “If you’re sending me back out to the wilds, I have a few more stops I need to make before I can go.” 
Isiah’s hands waved away your words and then he gestured for you to follow him through the curtains. 
You trailed along behind him. Thanking him as he held the curtains aside for you before continuing down the warmly lit hallway. 
Looking at the shop from outside, a passerbyer would never imagine the sheer size of the establishment within. The front store was big enough to have its shelving and still have plenty of space for a large sum of customers. 
But the back? It felt like you were walking the corridors of a fancy hotel three times the size of the shop outfront.
You passed seating areas with plush couches and soft rugs spread out beside roaring fires. 
Other areas included pools of crystalline water, bordered by beautiful gardens and mossy carpets. There was a bar beside a tile floor with many tables, perfectly illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight. 
The scents of the meals being cooked for customers made your stomach twist with jealousy, as you watched a throuple share a large thick crusted pizza between them. 
“You’ve redecorated.” You said, suddenly coming to the realization that some of the gardens were more lush than usual. And the extra marble pillars hadn’t been there last time. Each with beautiful carvings of scaled tails curling around the thick white beams. 
Isiah smiled broadly, very proudly Signing, “Like I said, business has been good since that article.” 
He led you past the restaurant and the pools to a staff only area. Where the delicious smells of cooked meals turned sickly sweet with an undertone of bitterness that plagued your nose. 
You politely tried not to shiver as the scent of Isiah’s mixtures coiled with your senses. 
You focused on Isiah’s hands as he explained his request, “I have a new concoction I wanted you to try.” He said, pausing to remove a vial from a crystal casing by the door. “They are strong and we have tested it on hybrids and monster kinds already; but not humans. It is safe for you to digest, I made sure of it. But the strength of its effect is unknown.” 
Isiah offered you the vial and you took it very carefully. The vial was made from very thin glass and it felt like you’d crack it just by touching it. 
You popped the corked lid and sniffed it. That sweet smell that filled the room tripled inside your nose and your mouth nearly watered. 
It was a usual reaction from sniffing anything that had Isiah’s venom imbued in it. But this was like you sucked on the most delicious lolly ever, and your skin rippled with goosebumps from the warm sensation that flooded your mind. 
You shivered and quickly placed the small lid back into place on the vial. “That is definitely strong.” You said with a laugh. Still feeling like someone had tickled along your sides, filling you with a blissful tingling. “What was the effect on the monsters?” 
Isiah’s smile was wicked and playful. His hands were slow as he translated in a teasing manner. “It sent a number of them into a rut that lasted many hours. Some are still here enjoying themselves.” 
You gawked up at the naga in front of you. 
Isiah was highly adept at making potions and goods that heightened everything and anything to do with pleasure. Using his venom, which was already a strong aphrodisiac among his kind, to cook and bake and brew all manner of edible contents.
The last substance you tested for him sent you into a lovely high of desire that you shared with a number of other testers. It had been a wonderful experience that had lasted the entire night. And left you feeling bubbly days after. 
However, in all your time working with Isiah or being around his establishment, you have never heard of his goods sending creatures into ruts. 
“Isn’t that dangerous?” You asked. And Isiah shrugged. 
“Only if their partners are unprepared. But I have many happy customers because of this. I only need to ensure that it isn’t going to comatose my human patrons.” 
You knew he was joking when he used the word ‘comatose”. His glistening eyes told you as much. But if this twisted a natural need into a burning desire to a monster, you seriously doubted you’d be making your other stops anytime soon. 
“I think I deserve a little break.” You said. “How do you want me to test it? Do I just drink it? Or do you want me to find someone to share this with?” 
Isiah’s deep gaze sharpened and your entire body heated up under his heavy stare. 
His hands Signed quickly as he leaned forward, his claws trailing over your cheek as he finished his question. “I was hoping I could share this with you. If you’d have me?” 
You smiled, ignoring the growing flustered heat that crawled its way up your neck and into your cheeks as Isiah’s long fingers continued to scrape carefully down your throat. His touch barely left a red mark but his talons left your skin tingling. “Your business will be ok without you?” You asked. And Isiah made a noise in the back of his throat that would have been a hissing chuckle if his voice hadn’t been taken from him. 
“My workers know what they’re doing. And they’ve been ordered to leave me for the rest of the day if you were to accept my offer.” 
You nodded again and Isiah gestured for you to follow him once more. 
He led you out of the cooking room and up some stairs to a room hidden behind a gilded set of doors. 
You knew this as Isiah’s office and had only been here once, when you first came here with herbs to trade for coins nearly at the start of his business career. 
You remember growing incredibly flustered when you noticed his office had, not only a desk and couches set for meetings; but also a large circle bed built into the floor. It was so large fifty people could probably lay in it, tangling themselves together, with ease. 
But now, you were growing more and more excited as Isiah took your hand and tugged you towards the nest of pillows and blankets. When you stood on the lip of the bed, Isiah coiled his tail around your legs, turning to face you and plucked the vial from your hands. 
Without taking his eyes off of you, he uncorked the glass container and pressed it tenderly against your lips. 
You grinned and obediently opened your mouth. To which Isiah tilted the glass vial up and the syrupy liquid pooled onto your tongue. 
The flavor was indescribable. A mixture of sweet honey and bitter dark chocolate. You eagerly swallowed the contents and as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach, you felt a fiery warmth begin to spread through you. 
Pins and needles prickled the tips of your fingers and you sighed as the familiar blissful sensation rushed through you. 
It was very instantaneous, your reaction. And you heard Isiah’s spines vibrate with delight.
So caught up in the enraptured feeling, you almost missed Isiah’s hands moving in front of you. Asking a question. “How do you feel?” 
You smiled and ran your hands along Isiah’s shoulders. The texture of his silks felt so good against your palms. And the rolling muscles beneath his scales had your thighs pinching closer together. 
Isiah shadowed your touches with his own. His large hands smoothed down along your sides. Carefully scraping his talons against any bare skin he found. 
It made your body shiver pleasantly.
“I feel like you’ve just wrapped me up in a warm blanket and put a vibrator between my legs.” It was a vulgar explanation but it’s exactly what you were feeling. 
Isiah’s smile looked almost triumphant as he slid his hands up along your sides and wound his arms around your middle. Pulling you closer, you eagerly fell into his embrace as he slowly twisted so you were lying beneath him on the mattress. 
His tail nudged your thighs apart and you pushed up against him as he settled between your legs. 
Isiah didn’t need to Sign to tease you. His wide smile, showing the tips of his fangs between his lips, said it all. 
Your fists tangled themselves in his silks as your breathing grew heavier. Not from lack of breath, but definitely from the need that was clawing at your restraint. 
“Don’t give me that look. Your venom already drives me insane. This is…by the Gods…please touch me, Isiah.” 
You felt the hiss vibrate through him as Isiah purred contently with your words. His hand snaked between you and you saw stars as your eyes squeezed close with the contact. 
Even with your clothes still on, that small amount of friction sent sparks to every inch of your body. 
You gasped as Isiah’s tongue swept along your throat. You felt the pinpricks of his fangs scratch against your skin and the sensation had your lungs emptying with a moan. 
Isiah rewarded the sound with a rather rushed circular motion between your legs. His fingers pressed deliciously hard against the bundle of nerves that screamed for attention. 
You couldn’t take it anymore. 
You needed to be naked and you needed his scales against your skin. Every inch of you needed his touch or else you were going to go mad. 
Your hands felt clumsy and slow as you tore off the layers from your travels. Isiah grinned down at you, unhelpful as he continued to rub and roll his palm against your core. You moaned and tried to wriggle away from him just enough to pull your pants away, but the damn naga trapped you beneath him with a single hand wrapping around your throat. 
Your eyes widened and your whole body burst with that fiery desire as Isiah shook his head down at you. His hold was strong but careful. Allowing you to breath and twist in his grasp, but you couldn’t pull away. Not even if you wanted to. 
Then his lips moved slowly and so deliberately that you caught every sweet syllable of the word; “Slowly”, and his gaze dipped low enough to point at your pants that were unbuttoned and your belt removed. 
You nodded and tortuously slowly, started to slide your legs out of your trousers. Isiah leaned back enough to watch your thighs become bare, displaying your folds as his tail returned to settle between your now naked legs. 
The very touch of his cool scales against your core had your hips rolling desperately. He grinned and pushed harder against you, his hand still firmly around your throat while his other palm squeezed and molded your breath between his fingers. 
You whimpered. Actually whimpered! As the subtle roll of his scales gave you the friction that you wanted. It wasn’t scratching that itch by any means but it was enough to have your head rolling back and your hips feverishly grinding against him. 
You felt Isiah shift and the cool scales were replaced by something thicker. You smiled and reached for him, eagerly gliding your hands down the largest of Isiah’s two cocks. 
His eyes fluttered closed as you gripped him and immediately started to rub him. Your pussy wetted the base of his length while your hands fondled and massaged the round head. 
Pearlescent precum started to bead at the tip and you licked your lips, imagining his weight on your tongue. 
But as much as you wanted to taste him, you needed him inside you twice as much. 
Isiah’s cock was very human-like. But only in shape, with the rounded head and the soft sheath that protected the tip. The rest was all naga. To the deep, almost black color that melted into silver at the head, to the massive size that had your core clenching with just the idea of him stretching you. You could feel the soft ridges along the underside and when you tilted your hips just right, you could catch that textured side along your clit. 
Isiah’s hips began to roll in rhythm with your frenzied thrusts. 
His eyes were half closed, lost in the sensation of your hands pleasuring him brutally as you worked him to full length. 
The second cock had not revealed itself yet. Which in the back of your mind, was strange. Both cocks were used for different things. But they were always both present when a naga was getting intimate.
The smallest was commonly used for pleasure, being the most sensitive part of the naga.
The larger of the two was always used for breeding. 
It was how certain male species of naga would lay their eggs. While others produced sperm, you knew Isiah’s species instead produced soft, pliable eggs. They were only ever fertilized when the second cock would be used after the largest. 
You didn’t know however, if this was something Isiah intended to do. And the thought of him stuffing you with his cock and then breeding you, had your mind turning into putty and your moans becoming louder.
The whispering of Isiah’s spines vibrating told you he enjoyed the sound. And Isiah moved so you were crushed beneath him as he started feverishly fucking himself between your thighs. 
Your moans turned into breathless cries as the ridges along his cock rolled along your clit over and over. 
You buried your face into the crook of his neck, kissing and biting the soft flesh between his scales as he gasped and hissed above you. Taking his own pleasure while you desperately tried to keep up with his heated pace. 
“Isiah, please!” Your begging plea was matched by your hands scrambling to move him in a way that gave you space to realign yourselves. 
Your bed partner nodded, panting as his tail twisted to maneuver himself so your hips no longer touched, but the rounded tip of his cock pressed against your entrance. 
The first second of pressure had you squeezing your eyes shut. So ready was your body, that it welcomed Isiah with a warm, very wet entrance for him to slide into. 
But after the first inch, your body tensed and Isiah’s spines shivered with displeasure as he forced himself to slow and properly stretch you. 
His hands were wrapped around your hips, his claws left red dents in your skin as your hips rolled in tandem to stuff Isiah’s girth between your legs. 
He was taking too long. You could take him, you knew it. He just wasn’t at the right angle. 
You managed to regain control of your body long enough that you somehow forced Isiah onto his back. 
The naga definitely let you do it and his wide smirk only fueled your need as you mounted him. Driving your knees into the mattress on either side of his hips as you wrapped your hand around his length and angled it towards your core. 
And like the smug male he was, Isiah relaxed into the pillows and let you work yourself into a frenzy. His hands found soft places on your body to pinch and squeeze while you panted and rolled your hips down on top of him. 
Immediately, the tip slipped inside and you braced your hands on his chest, murmuring soft nothings in between moans as you kept penetrating yourself on him. 
Isiah’s eyes watched every sway of your hips as you took him. His eyes occasionally rolled closed when you sunk fast down on him or squeezed in a way that sent pleasure shooting through his body. 
But his gaze was glued to you. Locked on the beautiful display of heated need that had you taking his full length and seating yourself around him. Only when your ass sat flat against his hips did Isiah move. 
He sat up so fast you were almost knock back. But his hands wrapped around your waist and held you securely against him. 
His lips found yours in a heated kiss. One that had his fangs nicking against your lower lip and his forked tongue swept hungrily against your inner cheeks. 
And then his hands started to set a rhythm. 
Bouncing you slowly, intending to test if you could take him. But you whined and shoved his hands away. Planting your hands on his chest and instead lifting your hips away from him until only the tip of his cock was still inside, and then slamming down with a slick sound of skin slapping scale. 
The friction had you seeing stars and white flashed through your eyes as you continued to ride Isiah hard and fast enough that your thighs immediately started to burn. 
Isiah writhed beneath you. Hands locking onto your waist once more as he looked up at you with dark, hungry eyes. 
His grin was wicked. Seeming pleased to see your mouth hanging open, eyes hooded and your body lost to the sensation of being so overly stuffed your belly bulged everytime you came down. 
Then his thumb nudged against your clit and your sounds twisted, becoming louder and desperate. You clutched his wrist, unsure whether to throw his hand away or lock it against you as he rolled the pad of his finger against the fiery clutch of nerves. 
You didn’t get time to decide. 
Not long after his fingers worked you over, you felt him begin to swell inside you. His rhythm, one he smoothly kept up with you, faltered and his tail writhed behind you like a piece of string on the wind.
You heard his spines vibrate and then lock down against his scales and Isiah’s head rolled back with a silent cry as his climax rushed through him. 
His hands, locked on your waist, held you tight against his hips as he rutted up into you. You were rocked harshly above him, but unable to move an inch as he spilled inside you. 
You felt his warm seed flood you, but then something thicker began to stretch you. You gasped and squirmed, but Isiah was stronger. Keeping you firmly in place as his first egg seated itself inside you. 
His rapid pace pushed the egg deeper and deeper until you felt it snugly rest against your cervix. The foreign feeling was like a cooling agent to the fire in your stomach. 
That desire still raged but a sense of contentment spread through your mind as well. 
“Is there more?” You asked Isiah. Your voice felt like sandpaper against your throat. How long have the two of you been fucking? You felt sweat along your brow and back and your thighs burned to the point you weren’t sure if you could move them anymore. 
Isiah smirked and suddenly you were on your back again. And Isiah spread your legs to the point you gasped, and continued to pound into you. 
He couldn’t fit all the way this time. Not with the first egg inside you. But the friction and new angle had you both panting again in minutes. And you cried out as his cock swelled with his second finish, laying another egg that he kept fucking deeper and deeper until you felt it slide against the first. 
The fog started to lift from your mind. You could make out the shadows that were now cast along the floors of the office from the windows. The once blue sky outside was now pooling with oranges and pinks. 
A sunset. 
But Isiah’s rough kiss scattered the sudden shock with a new sense of need. 
Again and again, Isiah pounded into you. Soon your voice was lost to you, leaving only loud pants and squeaky moans as he penetrated your overly sensitive pussy until his eggs were sweetly embraced between your walls. 
By the fifth egg, even Isiah was exhausted. He nuzzled your neck and the spines along his tail shivered softly as he curled around you. His cock still buried as far as it could, lazily stroking himself as he reveled in his own overstimulation. 
You were a mess. Unable to think and slipped in and out of a blissful slumber while Isiah used you. 
It was only until you felt him slide out of you, leaving a great gaping emptiness, did your mind finally come back to you. 
And you reached for him as his tail slid around you. Coiling your body against the thick, cool muscle against your very warm body. 
Isiah nuzzles against your back as he moves up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he settles amongst the coils of his tail. 
He then lifts his hands enough that you can see the question he Signs. 
“Is it any good?” You don’t have to look at him to sense the teasing smirk. He damn well knows it’s good. But you indulge him regardless of how scratchy your voice sounds. 
“I blinked and suddenly it was the afternoon.” You mumbled with a laugh. You shifted to get more comfortable and your sensitive walls sent flames of heat through your body as the eggs inside you shifted as well. You touched your stomach and turned your head enough to look over at Isiah. “So, what do I do with these eggs?” 
Isiah’s hands moved lazily in front of you as he snuggled more deeply into the pillows, exhausted. “You are safe with them inside you. I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission first. The scent of your heightened lust sent me spiraling. And I also have a small kink with breeding, so I lost control. I will remove them after a quick nap.”
“You’re fine. I’ve never been…bred like this before.” You admitted. Also laying your head amongst the mountain of pillows. 
You peel open your eyes when you felt Isiah’s arms moving again. 
“Do you enjoy it?” He asked. 
“Yes.” You said. Not at all ashamed to share this with Isiah. “I enjoy all manner of being used like this. I’ve just never had a Naga male do it to me.” 
“Glad to be the first.” His hands said playfully. Which you rolled your eyes at. “But it was very sexy to see you take over. I’ll happily fill you with eggs again if you ride me like that again.” 
“It’s a deal then.” You managed to mumbled before you lost the fight against sleep and were pulled into a warm, sweet sleep, nestled against Isiah’s tail.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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x0xomady · 1 month
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gold rush
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖
pt.2 - ☁️
(harry styles x female reader)
warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, NONCON, housewife kink, corruption kink, spit kink, humiliation, misogynistic themes, cheating (not on y/n), manipulation, no aftercare, harry is an asshole, p in v, oral m recieving, degrading behavior, unprotected sex, it’s just nasty. (all characters are 18+)
summary: during the 1850’s, families moved out to california for the gold rush. it just so happens that harry’s family moved out to the same town as yours. or, an older man cheats on his wife and corrupts the innnocent girl living next door.
a/n: okay this is based on THIS request. read the warnings first, if this isn’t your thing, IGNORE IT.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖
"y/n." my mother's voice echoed through our small wooden house. "come and get washed up for dinner!"
i was so deep in my book that i nearly missed her calling my name. “what?" i said, snapping out of my reverie.
my mother appeared in the doorway, her hands on her hips, looking at me with an exasperated expression. “stop reading and get cleaned up. we're having guests over tonight for dinner, and i need you to look presentable.”
i nod as i mark the page and set my book aside. i knew how important manners and appearances were to my mother, especially when we had guests over for dinner.
“who are the guests?”
my mother raised an eyebrow at my question, as if surprised i even had to ask. "the new couple that just moved into the old cabin down the road. they just had a newborn, and your father asked them to come over for dinner."
i nod as a feeling of dread creeps over me. it wasn't the first time we had hosted newcomers to the settlement, but the idea of having to be on my best behavior in front of strangers was always nerve-wracking.
“okay, i’ll go get ready." i say as i make my way to the washroom.
𖥔 2 hours later 𖥔
the dining room is filled with the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat, which we only eat on special occasions, and potatoes. the flickering flames of the oil lamps dimly illuminate the room, casting a warm glow over everything.
mother is bustling about, making sure everything is just so. the table is set to perfection, with a white lace tablecloth draped across it and sets of our best porcelain plates set atop it.
my father, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a perpetually serious expression, sits in his usual spot at the head of the table. he looks up as i walk into the room, and gives me a slight nod of approval. at that, i take my place at the table, my stomach churning with nerves. being an introvert is all fine until you have to meet new people.
a knock on the door signals the arrival of our guests, and my heart begins to race. i straighten my dress and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself as my mother goes to answer the door.
the sound of our guests' voices and footsteps echo through the house, making my chest feel tight. my mother leads them into the dining room, smiling widely with her best hospitality. as the guests enter the room, i lift my gaze and look at them for the first time.
.“y/n, this is mrs. styles, and her new baby elijah.” my mother motions towards mrs. styles. she is a very attractive looking woman, with long blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. i smile politely and stand up from the table to greet her.
“it's lovely to meet you, mrs. styles," i say softly with a smile. i notice baby elijah, who is sleeping soundly in his mother's arms for the first time, swaddled in a blanket. “you have a very cute baby.”
mrs. styles smiles warmly as she looks down at her sleeping baby. "thank you. he's only a few weeks old, but we already adore him so much."
my mother offers to take the baby, and mrs. styles hands him over to her, revealing the man standing behind her for the first time.
“oh yes, and this is mr. styles.” my mother introduces me to him quickly before carrying the baby over to the table and starting a light conversation with mrs. styles.
he is a tall, well-built man with a handsome face, green eyes, and thick brown hair. he is at least 10 years older than me, but at least 10 years younger than my father.
he looks over the room, his gaze finally landing upon me. i quickly drop my eyes and sit back down, feeling my cheeks flush. i can feel his eyes on me, and i'm not quite sure how to react.
suddenly, mother motions him over to the table, and he takes the seat next to my father.
as everyone sits down, my stomach begins to churn even more nervously. i glance at mr. styles every now and then, feeling his eyes on me.
conversation flows around the table, with my mother and mrs. styles talking about the baby. mr. styles and my father discuss work and the town.
the meal progresses, but I am not able to focus on my food. my mind keeps wandering to mr. styles, and i can't help but steal glances at him throughout the dinner.
he seems to notice my glances, and his piercing green eyes keep flicking towards me, making my heart race.
the meal is generally mild with small talk shared between my parents and the new couple.
“y/n honey, would you please take elijah out for a little while? mrs styles would probably like some time to eat.”
my mother gives me a “listen. now.” look and motions for me to take the baby. i nod and stand up from the table, taking elijah from his mothers arms.
“thank you darling, that’s so sweet of you.” mrs styles smiles and squeezes my hand as i take the baby from her and walk him out of the dining room.
once out of the dining room, I make my way to the back porch, walking slowly so as not to wake the baby. the night air is cool and refreshing as i sit down on the small wood bench my father had built for the porch.
I cradle the baby in my arms and look down at him, admiring his tiny, peaceful face. The only sound is the soft crackling of the fire from inside the house, and the occasional chirping of cicadas in the trees.
“you’re a very sweet baby.” i hum and look down at his soft little face.
as i sit there, slowly rocking and cooing at the baby, i hear footsteps behind me. i turn my head to see mr. styles walking out onto the porch, his green eyes meeting mine.
mr. styles leans against the porch and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it with a quick flick of his lighter. he takes a long drag, and lets out a plume of smoke into the night air.
he studies me for a moment, his eyes locking with mine before he speaks.
"you seem to have a way with children. he's sleeping soundly.” he motions to the baby in my arms, and I look back down at Elijah, who is indeed still asleep, his little chest rising and falling gently.
"i suppose i do," i replies softly, looking back up at mr. styles.
he takes another hit from his cigarette, the smoke swirling in the air around him as he gazes at me intently.
“hm. you’re a lot better with him then i. when the wife had him i couldn’t even hold him.” he hums and leans against the post, watching me soothe elijah.
i smile softly, watching the baby's eyelashes flutter as he sleeps. "it takes a lot of patience."
mr. styles nods as he takes another drag from his cigarette. "im not exactly the most patient person."
just then the door to the house opens again. my mother and mrs. styles step out the door.
“it was so lovely to have you two over, it’ll be great to have you in the town.” my mother smiles and hands mrs. styles a basket of baked goods she made to welcome them to the area.
mrs. styles takes the basket, smiling warmly at my mother. “thank you so much for hosting us. we really appreciate warm welcome.”
i hand the tightly swaddled baby back to mrs. styles and bid my goodbyes to elijah.
mr. styles snuffs out his cigarette and steps towards the two women, his gaze flickering to me once more before returning to my mother.
"thanks for dinner ma'am." he says to my mother with a charming smile.
my mother smiles warmly and pats him on the shoulder. "it was our pleasure."
mrs. styles thanks my mother again and turns to me.
“you know y/n, if you’re ever free i would love to have you over. you were so sweet with elijah i really appreciate it.”
i’m slightly taken aback by mrs. styles’ offer, pleasantly surprised. “of course, i would love to come by sometime.”
mrs. styles smiles and squeezes my hand once more before turning to my mother. “we best get going. it’s getting late.”
“of course, safe travels home.” my mother nods.
mrs. styles bids us goodbye and she and mr. styles walk down the path, disappearing into the night.
my mother turns to me with a satisfied smile on her face. “i think that went well.”
i nod, still feeling a little bit of butterflies from mr. styles' gaze. my mother smiles and pats my back.
“cmon dear, let’s get inside and wash up.”
𖥔 3 weeks later 𖥔
it's a warm bright day, as it usually is in early july. i walk down the dust path into the town center. there isn’t much in our small town, but we do have the necessities.
i continue past the main square, and make my way down the road towards the ranches on the south of the town. my white summer dress glides across the dirt road as i walk.
a few ranch houses are nestled among the trees, and there are pens full of livestock next to some. i come up to mrs. styles' house, and take a deep breath before walking up to the familiar front door.
since meeting the family weeks ago, i’ve had the opportunity to spend time with mrs. styles and occasionally watch elijah for her.
i knock on the door and wait for a response. after a moment, i hear shuffling from inside, and the door swings open to reveal mrs. styles, holding elijah in her arms.
“y/n! so nice to see you, come inside honey.” she smiles widely and opens the door further, motioning for me to come in.
i return mrs. styles' smile, and enter the house. it's a modest house, but cosy. the living room is filled with natural light as the windows on all sides are open, letting in a warm summer breeze.
“thank you so much again for agreeing to watch elijah. i would have harry watch him, but you know how men are.” she smiles and hands elijah to me.
i take the baby from her, immediately cradling him against my chest. he looks up at me with wide eyes, and i smile down at him.
"of course, i don't mind at all."
she nods and squeezes my shoulder lightly. “thank you again, honey. i’ll be back in a few hours, you’re welcome to the lemonade i made.”
i nod at mrs. styles as she grabs a small basket of laundry from a nearby chair, and heads out of the house. the sound of the door shutting echoes through the small house, and i walk over to the nearby couch and sit down.
elijah is quiet in my arms, and slowly begins to drift off to sleep.
i sit there for a few minutes, the baby’s soft breathing the only thing to break the comfortable silence. i gently rock him in my arms, watching as his eyelashes flutter against his soft cheeks, while he sleeps. the afternoon sunlight pours through the windows, warm and soft against my skin.
mr. styles shuts the door behind him and takes a step further into the house, not noticing me right away.
he is wearing a simple cotton shirt and tan brown pants with a hat perched atop his head. dust follows each step as his boots move across the wood floor. he turns to me, his green eyes quickly find my own in surprise.
“what are you doing here?” his deep voice rumbles through the air, filling the room. i shift uncomfortably on the couch, still holding the baby close to my chest.
i can feel my cheeks flush under his intense gaze. “mrs. styles asked me to watch elijah for her while she does some laundry and runs some errands.” i look down at the sleeping baby in my arms, my heart racing.
mr. styles walks closer to me, his footsteps loud against the wooden floor. he comes to a stop in front of me, his tall figure looming over me.
he doesn't say anything, and for a few moments he just stands there, studying me. i can feel his eyes on me, and my heart starts to pound against my chest.
“well alright then…” he nods and takes his hat off, placing it atop the coat rack.
he stands there momentarily before walking over to the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. he takes a few sips before turning back to me, leaning against the kitchen counter.
i assume by his rugged appearance that mr. styles had just finished his work for the day. my mother has told me that he is a cattle rancher, and works on their ranch for hours a day.
my eyes stay on the baby cradled in my arms, keenly aware of mr. styles' gaze on me. he sets his glass down and walks closer, stopping about a foot away from me. he glances at the baby, who is currently sleeping against my chest.
“he’s out like a light. you can go set him down in the crib.” he nods towards the wooden crib on the side of the room.
i nod, and slowly stand. i walk over to the crib and gently lay the sleeping baby down. he shifts slightly, but soon relaxes back into a deep sleep. i look down at him, watching his delicate little face as he breathes slowly.
i turn around to find mr. styles still watching me with a serious expression on his face. his arms are crossed, and his green eyes are intense.
"you're a shy thing, aren't you?" he asks, his voice low and gruff.
i feel my cheeks heat up, and i look down at the dusty hem of my dress. “yeah, i guess so," i nod.
mr. styles nods, and takes a step closer to me. “hm… this is a pretty small town, aint it? must not be a lot of others around your age.”
i nod, still looking down at my dress. “yeah, it is pretty small. i don’t know many people my age.”
he hums and looks down at me for a second. my body freezes up when i feel his rough hands grab my jaw lightly. he tilts my head up so i’m looking at him.
“well you’re definitely a pretty thing.” he says looking down at me.
i can feel my cheeks flush even more at his words. i look away, trying to avoid his intense gaze.
“thank you…” i mumble, feeling my heart race in my chest.
“you don’t have to be so nervous around me, i don’t bite.” he says roughly. i nod, my cheeks still flushed.
“i know, i just…” i trail off, looking away from him. he hums and nods, letting go of my chin.
"uh… is there anything else i can help you with?" i ask quickly, trying to change the topic.
mr. styles looks at me for a moment before nodding. he holds his hand up and motions for me to walk over to him.
“maybe there is… c'mere darling.”
i hesitate for a moment, unsure of what he wants me to do. i look down at my hands, which are still shaking slightly from the adrenaline. i take a deep breath and slowly walk over to him, stopping just in front of him.
mr. styles looks up at me, his green eyes intense. he leans back against the sofa and lets his legs open comfortably. he looks at me for a second, his eyes trailing over me. i can feel my heart pounding in my chest as he studies me.
"you know," he speaks, his voice low and rough. "ever since my wife had the baby, i've been feeling less and less satisfied."
i listen as he speaks. i'm not sure what he means, but his words make me feel uneasy. i look down at my hands, trying to avoid his gaze.
"i don't understand, sir," i say, my voice barely above a whisper.
he chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that makes me slightly uneasy. "i'm not surprised, darling. you're young and naive."
i feel my cheeks burn at his words. i'm not sure what he's getting at, but i know it's not appropriate. i take a step back, trying to put some distance between us.
"uh- maybe we should just wait until mrs. styles gets home-" i say nervously, trying to deflect the tension that's building in the room.
mr. styles raises an eyebrow, his gaze never leaving mine. "oh, i think we can handle things just fine without her," he says, his voice dripping with an unsettling confidence. he leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his eyes locked on mine.
i take another step back, trying to put even more distance between us. "i-i don't think that's appropriate, sir," i stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
he hums again, his eyes never leaving mine. “oh, relax, darling," he says. he holds his hand out and motions for me to step closer to him. “i know what i’m doing, and i know how much you like to help, you’re a sweet girl.”
i hesitate, unsure of what to do.. mr. styles' gaze is fixed on me, and i can feel his intensity like a palpable force.
i nod and carefully step forward again so i’m standing just in front of him. he smiles a little and reaches up to take a hold of my hips, pulling me to stand between his legs.
l my heart pounds in my chest as he looks up at me, his gaze intense. he leans forward, his breath hot against my neck as he whispers, “hm, you’re a good girl, aren't you?"
i swallow hard, my throat dry, and i nod hesitantly.
he hums in approval and leans back against the sofa, his hands still on my hips. "good," he says, his voice low. "now, i want you to help me with something."
his fingers tighten around my hips, and i can feel his thumbs digging into my skin. i try to take a step back, but his grip is firm.
"w-what is it, sir?" i stammer, trying to hide the blush creeping up my face. mr. styles' gaze never wavers, his eyes fixed on mine with an unnerving intensity.
"i want you to help me…relax," he says, with an innocent look on his face.
“you know, i wouldn’t normally ask you, as this is my wife’s job,” he sighs and looks up at me. “but, she is just so exhausted with the baby…”
i try to nod sympathetically, but my mind is racing with alarm bells. this is not right. men aren’t supposed to touch me this way- especially since i’m not married.
mr. styles' hands tighten around my hips, and i feel a jolt of fear. i try to take a step back, but his grip is firm. he's not letting me go.
“…how can i help?" i mumble nervously, looking up to meet his eyes.
mr. styles smirks, his grip on my hips tightening. "can you kneel on the floor for me, darling?"
i hesitate for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. i know this is wrong, but i can't seem to find the words to refuse him. i slowly lower myself to my knees, my eyes never leaving his.
mr. styles hums in approval, his hands moving from my hips to cup my jaw as he watches me.
i feel the nerves run through me as his thumb brushes against my bottom lip. "good girl," he murmurs and looks down at me.
my heart races in my chest as i look up at him, my eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.
mr. styles traces my lips with his thumb as he speaks, "i want you to take care of me, darling. can you do that for me?"
i swallow hard, my throat dry as i nod my head. “h-how?”
“it’s alright," he whispers. "i'll show you." his hands move from my jaw to his pants, his fingers quickly unbuttoning the top of them.
my eyes widen in shock and fear as he does this. i shake my head and try to get up from the floor. “no- mr. styles this is very inappropriate”
mr. styles shakes his head. “oh, darling, there’s nothing wrong in helping a friend. you don’t want my wife to tire out, do you?.”
“i don’t know if this is right.” i look at him nervously and try to pull away.
“oh but you’re so sweet,” he hums and traces my jaw with his thumb. “just try sweetheart, can you try?”
i hesitate, looking into his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. i feel a mixture of fear and confusion, unsure of what to do. i take a deep breath, trying to steady myself, and nod my head.
mr. styles smiles, his eyes lighting up with satisfaction. “good girl,” he murmurs. he pulls me closer to him, his legs spreading wider to accommodate me.
his hands reach down into his trousers as he pulls out his length. my eyes widen in shock, and my face instantly flushes in shame. i try to look away, but he grabs my jaw and turns be back to him.
he spits into his hand and strokes himself slowly, his eyes fixed on mine. i try to speak, to tell him to stop, but my voice is caught in my throat. my mind is racing, trying to process what is happening, but i'm frozen in place, unable to move or speak.
"give me your hand, y/n" he says, holding out his hand expectantly. i hesitate, unsure of what to do, but his gaze is intense, as if daring me to refuse. my heart racing, i slowly reach out, my hand trembling as i place it in his.
mr. styles' fingers wrap around mine, his grip firm as he guides my hand towards him. i try to pull back, but he holds tight, his eyes never leaving mine. my face flushes even more as i realize what he wants me to do. i try to shake my head, to tell him no, but my voice is still caught in my throat.
"come on, darling," he says. "just a little help."
he moves my hand and puts it around his length, his own hand wrapping around mine to keep it in place.
mr. styles lets out a low groan, his eyes closing as he leans back against the wall. "that's it, darling," he murmurs. “move it up and down- just like that.”
i feel a surge of shame and embarrassment as i'm forced to comply, my hand moving slowly along his length. he tugs my hand along his cock, guiding me into a slow, rhythmic motion.
his pupils are dilated, and his breathing is heavy, his chest rising and falling with each stroke. i can feel my heart racing, pounding in my chest like a drum, as i struggle to process what's happening.
"oh fuck," he groans out. "such a good girl."
his grip tightens around my hand, his fingers digging into my skin as he guides me into a faster rhythm. i can feel him growing harder in my hand, his length pulsing with each stroke.
"you like helping, don't you?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
my face flushes with embarrassment. “i- i don’t know," i say, my voice barely above a whisper.
he hums, his grip tightening around my hand. “do you want to help me relax even more?”
i hesitate, unsure of what he means. i can feel my heart racing, my face flushed with embarrassment. “h-how?”
mr. styles sees my hesitation and smirks. “oh, darling, don't worry. i'll show you.” he leans back against the couch, watching me with a blissed expression on his face. “can you to take me in your mouth? oh, I know you can darling, you’re such a good listener.”
my heart is racing, pounding in my chest like a drum, as i struggle to process what's happening. i feel a surge of shame and embarrassment, my face flushing with heat. i try to shake my head, to tell him no, but my voice is still caught in my throat.
mr. styles' grip tightens around my hand, his fingers digging into my skin as he guides me into a faster rhythm. i can feel his length pulsing with each stroke.
“yes, be a good girl and wrap your lips around the tip for me, darling.” he moves his hand away from my own and puts his hand against the back of my head. he gently nudges me forward to take him in my mouth.
my nose crinkles up in slight disgust at the thought of doing it, but i don’t want to do anything wrong. what if he’s right? what if mrs. styles really does need me to help? she’s such a sweet lady, i wouldn’t want her to tire out… especially since she just had a child…
i hesitate for a moment, but mr. styles' grip on my head tightens, and he guides me closer to him. i can feel his length pulsing in my hand, and i know that i have no choice but to comply.
i take a deep breath and slowly lean forward, my lips parting as i take the tip of his cock into my mouth.
his thick length pulses against my tongue, and i try to focus on the task at hand, trying to ignore the shame and embarrassment that washes over me.
mr. styles lets out a low groan, his grip tightening around my head as he guides me further onto him. "oh, darling," he murmurs, his voice raspy. "you're doing so well, can you suck the tip for me?"
i hesitate for a moment, my mind racing with thoughts of what i'm doing and the sins i’m committing. i try to think of mrs. styles, of how she needs me to help, but my conscience is screaming at me to stop.
hesitantly i tighten my lips around the head of his cock and suck it into my mouth. mr. styles' eyes flutter closed, his chest rising and falling with each stroke. his fingers dig deeper into my scalp, holding me in place as he begins to rock his hips gently.
"oh, yes," he groans in pleasure, his hips buck up desperately. "just like that, darling. you're perfect."
mr. styles' grip tightens around my head, his fingers digging into my scalp as he guides me further onto him. i try to pull back, to take a breath, but he holds me in place, his grip firm.
"good girl," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "open up that throat for me, just relax." my eyes fill up with tears, and i gag as his cock hits the back of my throat.
mr. styles' grip tightens around my head, his fingers digging deeper into my scalp as he holds me in place. i try to pull back, but he's too strong.
"relax, darling," he whispers. "you're doing so well. just a little more."
i try to nod, but my head is locked in place by his grip. suddenly, he pushes me down further, and i feel his cock hit the back of my throat again.
tears stream down my face as i gag, my body involuntarily trying to expel the intrusion. mr. styles' fingers dig deeper into my scalp, holding me firm as he begins to rock his hips in a slow rhythm.
before i can register what’s happening, mr. styles grabs the back of my head and pulls me off his cock unexpectadely.
“i’m sorry sweetheart, was that too much?” he hums and presses a kiss to my forehead. the sweet gesture was a complete change from the harsh movements he did just moments before.
i gasp for air, my chest heaving as i try to catch my breath.
“you did so well, darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “i’m so proud of you.”
i nod weakly, my throat still sore from the intrusion.
mr. styles smiles at me, his eyes soft and gentle. "come here,"
he picks me up and places me on his lap so i'm straddling his legs. I can feel his cock pressing against my stomach, and I try to ignore the complete embarrassment I feel. everything that just happened goes against everything my mother and father taught me.
mr. styles leans forward, his lips brushing against my ear. “are you alright?" he tilts his head and looks at me with a soft expression.
“i’m okay…” i nod weakly, unable to speak much after the sharp pain. mr. styles' eyes lock onto mine, his gaze piercing as he inspects me.
"you're doing great, darling," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "i know it's a lot to take in, but you're doing so well." his words are laced with a soothing tone, but they only make me feel more ashamed. “you’re being so helpful.”
“hm… is your poor throat all swollen? i’m sorry sweetheart.” he hums and presses a kiss to the side of my neck. “you know what? i think i have something that’ll make you feel better.”
i hesitate for a moment, looking up at him with glassy eyes. maybe he didn’t mean to hurt me…
“okay…” i whisper. he leans forward, his lips brushing against my ear once more.
“i knew you would be a good girl,” he murmurs.
he reaches down and picks me up, laying me down on the sofa. i feel a rush of fear as he moves to sit between my legs. my eyes widen at the vulnerable position, and i instantly shut my legs, trying to protect myself from his prying eyes. he’s not my husband, and i shouldn’t be in this position with him.
mr. styles' eyes sparkle with amusement as he gently pries my legs open, his hands warm against my skin. i try to resist, but he's too strong, and soon my legs are splayed open, exposing me to his gaze.
"shh be good f'me. i need your help, remember sweetheart?" he hums and pushes my thighs apart completely. his eyes darken when his gaze reaches my core.
i feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me as he takes in every detail of my body. his gaze lingers on the most intimate parts of me, and i can feel my face burning with shame. i try to close my legs again, but he holds them firm, his grip gentle yet unyielding.
"no, no, darling," he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. "we're not done yet. we need to take care of you."
his eyes linger on the most intimate parts of me, and i can feel my face burning with shame.
"so fucking pretty," he groans at the sight of my cunt that's now completely exposed to him. "nobody's touched you here before, have they?"
i try to shake my head, but it feels like it's stuck in place. mr. styles' eyes sparkle with excitement as he takes in every detail of my body.
his rough calloused hands run down my thighs and meet at my core. mr. styles smirks and traces his thumb along my cunt.
"hm... what about you sweetheart? have you ever played with yourself before?" he asks, his voice low and husky.
i shake my head, my face burning with embarrassment. i've never even touched myself there before, let alone let someone else do it. “n-no! of course not, that’s wrong.”
mr. styles smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. “good. this is just f’me to touch, you understand?” he moves his eyes away from the spot between my legs to meet my eyes. i nod hesitantly, unsure of what i'm agreeing to, but too scared to say no.
his gaze holds mine for a moment, then drops back down to the spot between my legs. his fingers hover over my core, and i can feel my heart racing in my chest. i try to close my legs again, but he holds them firm, his grip gentle yet unyielding.
i take a deep breath and try to relax, but my body remains tense. mr. styles' eyes never leave my face as he gently pushes my jaw open with his hand. he then slides two of his fingers into my mouth, and i can taste the salty tang of his skin.
“get them nice and wet, darling,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. i hesitate for a moment before i begin to suck on his fingers, coating them in saliva.
mr. styles' eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches me, his gaze never leaving my face. i try to focus on the task at hand, but my mind keeps wandering back to the uncomfortable position i'm in.
suddenly, he pushes his fingers back, hitting the back of my throat, and i gag. the feeling is overwhelming, and i try to pull away, but he holds his fingers firm. mr. styles smirks and pulls his fingers out.
“oh, i'm sorry sweetheart, that was mean of me,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "we’re going to have to work on that gagging of yours later, aren’t we?”
he moves his hand away from my mouth to my core. he runs his middle and ring finger teasingly along my slit, nudging my clit for a second. my eyes widen at the sensation, and i sit up. “what- what was that?”
mr. styles smirks, his eyes never leaving mine. “that, my dear, is what it feels like to be touched by a man.” he continues to tease my clit, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles.
i gasp, my body trembling beneath his touch. it feels weird but not bad. it doesn’t hurt like it did before. he presses tight circles against my clit. his gaze is focused on the scene before him.
his fingers dance across my skin, sending shivers down my spine. i try to process what's happening, but my mind is a jumbled mess. i feel exposed and vulnerable, yet somehow, i'm drawn to the sensation. my body begins to respond, my hips subtly rocking against his fingers.
"ah… there we go. you like that?" he chuckles and presses his thumb against my bundle of nerves. i gasp, my body tensing up as a wave of pleasure washes over me. my face flushes with embarrassment, and i look away from his eyes
i can feel my heart racing in my chest as he continues to touch me. his fingers move in slow, deliberate circles. i can feel myself growing wetter, and i'm both embarrassed and confused by my body's reaction.
mr. styles leans in closer, his breath hot against my skin. "you're so beautiful when you're like this," he murmurs, his voice low. "so innocent and pure.”
he holds out his hand to my mouth again and nods his head to it. “spit.”
i hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to do. but mr. styles' gaze holds mine, his eyes glinting with amusement. i can feel my face burning with embarrassment as i slowly part my lips and let my saliva fall onto his palm.
he smirks, his eyes never leaving mine, as he brings his fingers back down to my core. mr. styles' fingers slide back into my slit, and he begins to tease my clit once more.
i gasp, my body trembling beneath his touch. his gaze holds mine, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watches me struggle to process the sensations coursing through my body.
"take a deep breath, darling," he says before i feel one of his thick fingers push past my tight entrance. i tense up, my body protesting the intrusion, but mr. styles' grip on my thighs remains firm. his finger slides in deeper, and i can feel my walls clenching around it.
"oh, you're so tight," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. "i can barely fit a finger." his eyes never leave mine as he begins to move his finger in slow strokes.
"relax, darling," he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. "let me show you how good it can feel." his finger push deeper, and i can feel my core tighten beneath his touch.
mr. styles' eyes stay glued to mine as he watches my body react. my body begins responding, my hips subtly rocking against his hand. the sensation is strange, yet somehow, i find myself craving more.
"that's it, darling,” he hums and uses his free hand to rub my hip softly. “stop resisting."
i gasp as he adds a second finger, my body stretching to accommodate him. my heart races in my chest as he moves his fingers up to his knuckles.
"oh, you're so tight," he groans, his eyes never leaving mine. “i should’ve fucked a virgin a long time ago.”
his words make my face flush with embarassment as he continues to move his fingers inside me. my body responds to his touch despite my mind's protests.
mr. styles' fingers push in and out of me, his movements slow and calculated. i can feel my walls clenching around him, trying to accommodate his thick fingers.
suddenly, he stops moving his fingers, leaving them deep inside me. i feel a pang of disappointment, my body craving more of the strange sensation.
he chuckles and pulls his fingers out to hold my thighs open again. “don’t you worry, darling. i have something that’ll be a lot better.”
his eyes glint with amusement as he moves one of his hands to hold the base of his cock, moving to press the tip of it against my clit teasingly. i gasp, my hips bucking up at the sudden contact. his cock is warm and smooth, compared to the rough cold skin of his fingers.
"oh, you're so sensitive," he murmurs. "i love it." his eyes never leave mine as he continues to tease me, his cock brushing against my clit with every movement.
i try to speak, but my voice catches in my throat. my body is screaming for more, but my mind is still reeling from how wrong this feels. i shouldn’t be doing this when i’m not married- let alone with a married man!
“mr. styles-” i'm cut off by him pressing the head of his length to my entrance.
"shh, no more mr. styles. when i touch you like this you be respectful and call me daddy, alright?" he says roughly and squeezes my hip.
my eyes widen in shock, and i feel my face flush with embarrassment when i hear that. i shake my head, my mind reeling from the demand.
"what?" i manage to stammer, my voice barely above a whisper.
mr. styles' grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin. "you heard me, darling," he says, his eyes sharp as he watches me. "when we're like this, you call me daddy. it's only respectful."
i feel a surge of defiance rise up within me, but it's quickly quashed by the sensation of his cock still pressed teasingly against my entrance.
mr. styles' grip on my hip tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as he speaks. "say, yes daddy, or else i'm going to have to tell your mother and father what a disrespectful brat you are." he says roughly.
my eyes widen in shock, and i feel my face flush with embarrassment at the threat. i try to speak, but my voice catches in my throat. mr. styles' eyes narrow, his gaze piercing as he waits for my response.
"yes…daddy," i stammer, the words feeling foreign and inappropriate on my lips.
"see? good girl," he nods at my words and holds the base of his cock again, lining it up with my cunt. "deep breath for me…"
i feel my body tense up, my heart racing in my chest as i try to process what's happening. his cock is warm and smooth, but it's also thick and intimidating. i can feel my walls stretching to accommodate him, a burning sensation spreading through my core.
"relax, darling," he whispers, his breath hot against my skin.
his cock inches inside of me, and i can feel my walls stretching to accommodate him. "oh fuck-"
he groans out and closes his eyes for a second as he inches inside of me. his eyes snap back open, and he gazes at me, his pupils dilated with desire.
he pauses for a moment, his cock lodged halfway inside me. i can feel my body trembling beneath him, my heart racing in my chest.
"you're so tight," he moans and presses squeezes my hips tightly, his fingers digging into my skin as he holds me in place. "i can barely fit."
i try to speak, but my voice catches in my throat. "mr. styles-" he cuts me off by giving a light slap to my thigh.
"no. what do you call me?" he demands, his eyes flashing with a mixture of desire and authority. i feel a surge of embarrassment wash over me, but i swallow it back and meet his eyes.
"daddy," i mumble, my voice barely audible.
"good girl," he murmurs. mr. styles' grip on my hips loosens slightly, and he nods in approval. he inches his cock further inside me, and i feel my walls stretching to accommodate him. the burning sensation intensifies, and i let out a gasp of pain and growing pleasure.
mr. styles' eyes never leave mine as he slowly thrusts his cock to the hilt, his hips pressing against mine.
my body trembles beneath him, my heart racing in my chest. the burning sensation intensifies, and i let out a gasp of pain and growing pleasure.
"oh shit-" he groans, his voice low and husky, "i won't last long with how fucking tight you are." he slowly drags his cock out so just the tip is inside, and for a moment, i feel a sense of relief wash over me. but without giving me much time to recover, he starts pushing in again, his cock sliding deeper into me.
the burning sensation intensifying as he buries himself inside me. mr. styles' eyes never leave mine as he starts to thrust, his hips moving in calculated strokes. i can feel his cock pulsing inside me, and i try to push back against him, but he holds me in place, his grip on my hips like a vice.
"daddy," i stammer, the word feeling foreign and wrong on my lips, but he seems to like it, his eyes flashing with desire as he hears it. he starts to move faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent, and i can feel my body responding, my pleasure building despite the initial pain.
“see? it can feel so good if you stop resisting," he pants out in pleasure and continues moving his cock inside me. his words are laced with a mixture of desire and authority.
“so fucking young and pretty…” he mutters under his breath. his hips continue snapping up to meet mine, our arousal and the humidity of a hot summers day leave the skin between us sticky.
mr. styles groans and closes his eyes in pleasure as he thrusts his thick cock as deep as he can. my hips slowly move against his in a desperate search for any pleasure.
despite the rough and painful start, pleasure begins filling my body and i’m left reaching for the sensations he gave me previously.
he notices my frustrated expression and smirks for a second. “oh i’m sorry darlin, can’t leave ya hanging.”
mr. styles chuckles and uses his thumb to rub tight circles on my throbbing bundle of nerves. his gaze is piercing as he watches me struggle to accommodate his length. my walls clench desperately around him, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar intrusion.
“fuck darling, you’re gonna cum, aren’t ya? you’re practically suffocating me.” he mumbles and quickens his thrusts as he approaches his own release. his grip on my hips tightens, and he slams into me with a force that takes my breath away.
his cock pulses against my walls and my body responds to his, the pleasure building until it’s too much to bear.
“daddy please-“ i whimper out and grab his shoulders for support as the unfamiliar feelings flush through my body.
“that’s it, cum for me.” he smirks and rubs my clit quicker, his thumb pressing down harder on my sensitive nub. my body shudders and convulses as the orgasm crashes over me, my walls clenching around his cock as he continues to thrust.
mr. styles groans and his thrusts become erratic, his cock pulsing inside me as he reaches his own climax. his grip on my hips tightens and he buries himself inside me, his hips snapping up to meet mine as he empties himself inside me.
for a moment, we stay like that, our bodies still connected as we catch our breath.
mr. styles finally pulls out, leaving me feeling empty and exposed. i watch as he tucks himself back into his pants, his eyes never leaving mine. he walks over to the small wooden table and grabs a cigarette, lighting it up and taking a long drag.
"get fixed before the wife gets back," he says, his voice gruff and emotionless. he walks over to the door, putting his hat back on and going back out to the ranch. “i have work to do.”
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖
👀
xoxo
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