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#it's not good that they're doing something they wish they didn't need to
caramelkoo · 1 day
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honeysuckle
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boyfriend!jungkook, established relationship, smut
summary : according to your boyfriend, a little competition won't hurt anyone especially when the game is his favorite. Making you feel good.
warnings : mature, strong language, heavy on the smut, a little fluff thrown in there, fingering, pussy slapping, he asks for consent, they're freaky, dick piercing, ass slapping, hickeys, sex in a jacuzzi, reverse cowgirl, riding, jungkook wants oc so bad, dirty talk, he calls oc sweetheart, unprotected sex. if i missed something, do let me know.
a/n : hi my loves, here’s your promised smutty treat. tbvh that picture has not left my mind ever since i saw it lmao. I love you guys so so much. You're so loved and cherished. Please don't read this in front of your parents. also @rpwprpwprpwprw was the sweetest to ask for a tag <33 xoxo
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"Oh yeah baby, just like that"
"You fuck me so good"
'Take my cock like a good slut you are"
Any other day, you're all about sex positivity and letting your body get what it wants but today of all days, your neighbors want to ruin the peace that you so desperately craved.
Your boyfriend, Jungkook had left early for a business meeting promising you to come back as soon as he gets done with it. As much as you missed him, you had felt the need to have some time for yourself. You thrive on being Jungkook's girlfriend, it's all butterfly in the stomach, princess treatment kind of love but you can't lie about wishing for some alone time just for yourself. Finally, you were getting it. You had it all planned bit by bit.
Step 1 : take an everything shower
Step 2 : cook something delicious for yourself while wave to earth plays in the background
Step 3 : read a romantasy novel you've been anticipating for a long time.
Step 4 : if sleepy, sleep. If not, take out your pink best friend from the bedside drawer and seek your pleasure listening to Jungkook's voice recording you had him record the other day. It always works.
Step 3 and you're already at the verge of giving up. It appears the people next door didn't exactly like your plan and they wanted to make you realize how lonely you are. Screaming at your face, "Haha guess who's not getting a dick". God forbid if a girl wants to have quite and peaceful night while romanticizing the shit out of it.
You slam the book on the bed and sigh. For a second you consider calling Jungkook but stop when you realize that you'll only be hindering his work. What are you even going to tell him? that you can't read because your neighbors have been fucking each other for hours now? No, that's just stupid.
Taking off your reading glasses you make your way to the kitchen. If you can't get sleep tonight, you might as well give them a tough fight. When and if they decide to let their horny asses take a break and decide to doze off, they'd catch on to the fact that there's someone next door whose mama didn't raise a quitter. Immature? you don't think so.
Once the woman's voice on the speaker alerts you that your phone has been connected, you start off with your favorite go to song when you need to cry your eyes out. "Fuck to an emotional song now" you think.
Coming in terms with the fact that you might have to pull an all nighter, you begin making coffee. The word itself brings a smile on your face. Coffee, which got you through your med school. Coffee, which got you Jungkook.
If you really think about it, hadn't you mustered up the courage to go on a solo date that day and have a coffee all by yourself you wouldn't have crossed your paths with him. It's funny actually because how many couples do actually last this long after meeting at a random coffee shop?
After dating douchebags for almost three years you had taken a break from dating all together. It was high time you focused on yourself. Honestly, it's not like they were the only one who was messed up in your previous relationships. You had some parts you had to heal as well and the moment you caught up on that, you went on a journey. Journey to self love, journey to find yourself and a journey which will leave you not perfect but healed.
As for the dimwits you dated in the past, sometimes it was "why do you always have to be like this? how much more space do you need?" or, "What do you mean you don't want to have sex right now? C'mon don't be a spoilsport".
Spoilsport, your ass.
Standing up on your tippy toes, your hands reach out for the coffee container but before you could even settle your foot down on the floor, two arms circle around your waist making you gasp in utter shock.
The need to defend yourself takes so strongly over you that you don't even turn around in order to check the person before your elbow connects with their nose.
When you finally do, you can't stop the scream from leaving your mouth. Your face all red and your eyes as big as saucers.
You panic, "JUNGKOOK?"
When you see blood oozing out of his left nostril after he lifts his face, you mentally curse your sister for forcing you to take self defense classes.
"What's with the song, sweetheart?"
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"I told you you were gonna be my death someday but who knew it was gonna be tonight"
After cleaning up his nose and giving him a cup of coffee, you both were now sitting on the couch. You had turned off the music, though. God knew it was not making the situation any better.
You take a sip before speaking, "Oh, don't be dramatic. Who comes home like this and at this hour?"
"My flight was late, sweetheart. I wanted to get to you much sooner but destiny had plans--" he gets cut off as his eyebrows crease in wonder.
"What was that?"
"The neighbors. They have been going at it for hours now" you shake your head in disbelief.
"For hours? That's some stamina I must say" he breaks out in a fit of laughter as you place your cup on the table in front of you.
Turning towards him you ask, "You find this funny? I haven't been able to sleep because of them"
Your voice comes out a bit whiny and you wonder if you're acting a bit childish.
"Oh, sweetheart. How about this, I take a quick shower and we cuddle to sleep" a mixture of warmth and concern crossing his face.
Your smile is wide when you say, "I'd love that"
Jungkook finishes his coffee and pecks your lips as he saunters towards the bathroom. However, when he turns back and says the most unforeseen thing, your silly mind doesn't even think twice.
"Actually, _____. Why don't you join me?"
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Bubbles form inside the jacuzzi as smoke fills your surroundings. The smell of warm water hits your nose making it feel tingly. Your stomach is doing summersaults as your boyfriend lets you down inside the water, heart skipping a beat.
Only when Jungkook lets himself sit on the other side of the tub, you can finally take a deep breath. His eyes never leaving yours. When you're with him, there's nothing you care about. Not your horny neighbors, not the world, nothing. It's just him and his presence that lights you up. A smile that could rival the sun.
Him.
Your fingers play with the water as you try to make a conversation. This moment right here, is peak level of intimacy for you. You're both naked, exposed and vulnerable yet you've never felt safer. Not to mention how you feel like a high school girl trying to talk to his crush.
When you were young, the bathroom was the only place you could run and cry in and no one judged you. The four walled room provided more comfort than people in your life. It holds memories but when you moved in with your boyfriend, you left those at your old house. To rot, because what else?
With him, every corner, every space in your house feels pure and blissful. It’s filled with laughter, moans and him.
Jungkook's legs are lightly brushing yours every now and then, the movement sending shivers down your spine. What's happening to you?
"So, how was the business trip?"
"On a scale of one to ten, how funny is it that you wanna talk about business while looking like that and all I wanna do is fuck that sweet mouth of yours because of how much I missed it?"
You shudder, the effect he has on you is beyond belief and now with the expression crossing his face, pure lust and longing, it's as though somebody has set your whole body on fire. A mix of hot and cold feeling running through your veins.
"Jungkook"
"Come here"
"Wh-"
He cuts you off, "Come here, sweetheart. Come to me before I lose my ever loving mind'
You don't have an option other than to scoot your way towards him. He positions your body between his legs, his taut and muscular chest touching your wet back.
Wetness pools between your legs as his hardness presses at your lower hip just above your ass. Your pussy throbs with need and you stop yourself from reaching down to relieve that tension.
His fingers ever so lightly graze over your arm, frequently making drawings on it.
"How long did you say they were going at it?"
You look at him, "About three hours. Why?"
He's up to something. You can feel it in your bones.
"Do you think they're still gonna be able to fuck each other after hearing your screams through the wall, sweetheart?"
Fuck. The idea of making them listen to you while your boyfriend fucks you into oblivion doesn't sound so bad. You missed him, you missed being in his arms and you missed him being inside you as well. So, where's the harm in that?
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"You wanna give them a show? Let them know how well your man fucks you?"
The moan that leaves her as she lets her head fall back heavy on his chest tells him everything her words can't.
"Jungkook, please. It's been so long" she cries out.
She stirs making herself more comfortable but that just makes him hiss through his teeth as her ass grazes his cock, the metal on the tip leaving a cool sensation. He's not gonna give in easily though. He will make her earn that release.
His hands cup her tits, fully covering them and they fit so perfectly in his hands. Heavy, full, perfect. As if they're made just for him to suck, him to cup, him to cum on, him to leave purple love bites on.
"I know, sweetheart. Do you wanna know what I kept thinking about while I was away?" his voice trails off, "I kept thinking about how bad I wanna fuck your throat"
The sound that leaves her is filled with need.
"Jungkook, baby please."
He trails his hands down her chest and stomach before it reaches her pussy. Just around her clit. His finger are soft and light, not putting pressure when all she wants is for him to give her the release she so badly craves.
Jungkook's cock is already leaking with precum and his balls ache. He missed his girl so fucking much, so much that he lost count of how many times he had fucked his hand while thinking of her while he was away. When his colleagues saw his flushed face, he had no other option than to blame it on the cold weather.
His finger slide down and back up her slit, making her visibly shiver.
Shit. He's not gonna last long if she keeps making those noises.
"How many finger do you want, _____?" he asks as repeats the same motion.
His mouth comes on her in a searing kiss, it's possessive, passionate, burning and everything nasty. He's straight up claiming her mouth as her tongue tangles with his own.
Pulling back he waits for her response, "Two. Please"
Following her command, his two fingers slide inside her. He tightens the hold on her stomach to have her stay in place when she bucks her hips forward.
She screams.
"That's my girl"
He slides his finger out before sinking it deep inside her cunt again. Crooking them in such a way that he hits her g-spot. Desperate moans fill the room mixing with the steam coming out of the hot water. Her hands ghost over his, fastening his pace.
"You want it faster, sweetheart?"
"Yes, much faster. I wanna cum so bad"
Happy to give her what she wants, he begins rubbing at her clit while his other fingers work their way in and out her wet cunt.
"Oh my fucking god"
"That's right. Get what you want. Such a good girl for me"
He's an animal at this point as he tries to mark her his more than she already is. Jungkook has always been open about sex with his girlfriend, his needs, his wants, his desires and she'd done the same. You compliment each other perfectly. It's easier that way, not leaving any room for doubts.
She like dirty talk, he gives it to her.
When her hips lift forward matching his thrusts, he smirks. Biting her slender neck as she chases her orgasm.
"Aghh"
It finally happens, her hands grasp his even more tightly, other hand gripping the edge of the jacuzzi as she lets out a scream. Her breath fastens as sweat beads her forehead, Jungkook never stopping with his praises.
When she settles back down between his legs, he takes his finger out and sucks them clean. Brown eyes never leaving hers.
"Do you think they heard us, sweetheart?"
Her laughter brings smile to his face, "You're crazy"
"And you're mine" He pecks her cheek, letting his lips linger there for a bit. Basking in the feeling of her love's skin against his lips.
At the beginning of your relationship when you were just getting comfortable with intimacy, jungkook loved kissing her cheek. It was his way of showing her that she's adored by him. Then he realised that quite frankly, it's her. He likes kissing so much because it's her that he's kissing.
He holds her for a while before speaking up, "You wanna help me with a problem?"
He doesn't need to tell her twice but soon as her next words leave her mouth, he takes a double take.
"Sit on the edge and I'll suck you off" he hears her say as she kneels before him.
"Later" he grabs her by her shoulders as he positions her back between his legs. This time facing him.
Her legs wrap around his waist and his thick cock presses against her navel. He knows how badly she wanted to take him into her mouth and he could have let her do that only if he was strong enough to resist himself from sinking deep inside her.
"Now, I wanna fuck you. Raw and nice just like my girlfriend deserves" his voice comes out breathy.
"I love you"
"Me too, sweetheart. More than you know" he assures.
Knowing he can't take it anymore, he lifts her up and sits her body down on his cock. Slowly by slowly as she moans her way through it. ____'s head falls into the crook of his neck and his grip tightens on the curve of her waist. The ampallang piercing multiplies the pleasure tenfold as you both roll your eyes at the back of your head.
Jungkook got madly drunk the other day and came back with a dick piercing which resulted in her getting mad at him and him fucking her to show how good it gets with it.
Having said that, he presses a searing kiss on her lips and his breath knocks out of his chest in the process. It's almost like he's dreaming. The feel of her body on him, his cock deep inside ____, her arms caging him. It all feels surreal. At this point, the neighbors are long forgotten. It's you and him now.
He takes one of her sensitive buds in his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. Moving it in circular motions.
The next few seconds involve him spanking her ass as if he wants to leave marks, him guiding her up and down his cock as she bounces and giving her frequent kisses. Wet slapping noises fill the entire room as his balls ache with need.
"So good, baby. You feel so fucking good. Wrapped around me like this while I fuck you good, huh?" he slaps her pussy lightly.
Thrust Thrust Thrust
As she falls back again into his arms, crying loudly with utter pleasure, he tightens his hold on her body. Hugging her close as both of your heartbeats sync together.
"Thank you for letting me love you, sweetheart. Thank you for coming into my boring ass life and filling it with laughter. Fuck"
Your sweaty and now tired bodies are wrapped around each other as you both revel in the warmth of intimacy.
He lets out a grown followed by her whine and before he can say anything, you’re both cumming together, sighing and kissing as you come down your high.
A chaste kiss is pressed on her forehead, "So perfect, my girl"
"That was…" you bite your lip.
"Amazing, I know" he says as he mindlessly plays with her black locks.
his hands rub her back. "Sweetheart, I want one more from you"
"One more?"
"Yeah, this time I wanna see your beautiful back. Will you do it for me?"
He tries to ask her as gently as possible. Pride filling his chest when he sees her nod.
Guiding her up with the support of her knees he sits her down on his lap, his balls brushing against her clit as he sinks back inside her. A man can only take so much before he snaps. This was the moment for him. His girl's back glistens in the most beautiful way ever. Sweat droplets mixed with water dripping down her spine that he can’t help but kiss.
"Fuck baby, you look like a goddess right now." he halts,
"So warm"
Trailing his hands up the back of her neck he threads his fingers through her hair, gripping it lightly but also putting enough pressure just so she can feel a sweet pain.
His heart skips another beat when she starts moving forward and then backwards, teasing him. Her movements are painfully slow. He wants to ask ____ to move faster but at the same time, he also wants to make this special for her.
So, he waits and watches her back arch as he feels like the luckiest man in the world.
"Jungkook" she moans his name, holding on to his thigh as he pounds into her from the back. It’s even deeper now, his cock hitting places he’d never hit before. Jungkook mentally thanks himself for trying out this new position because he’d just about take any chance to feel more connected to ____.
Just when his stomach contracts and hardens, he asks, "____ I’m gonna need you to spread those ass wider. I’m very close"
When she hums in response he gently pushes her upper body so that it’s flat on his legs, immediately letting him see more of ____'s ass. Her asshole clearly visible to him. It’s such a vulnerable position that you’re both in. Her more than him.
He has to ask her, "Sweetheart, if you don’t feel comfortable we can always stop, alright? You just have to ask"
Her whiney voice reaches his ears, "I’m okay, baby. Just- Just fuck me"
So, he does. His hips thrust forward as he fucks her mercilessly, letting her have the pleasure. She moans, he moans, she cries out, he groans. It’s unbelievably perfect. His hands roam over her smooth back, her ass and even down to her pussy. Both bodies working in a graceful sync.
Suddenly, it’s like the earth comes to a stop. His hands grip his hair while the other one grips hers. His stomach hardens, balls tightening and the moment _____ clenches around his cock, he cums inside of her. Filling her up with hot, white liquid. She follows him soon enough.
"I fucking love this body of yours"
She straightens up and lets her wet body fall heavy on his chest seeking warmth and his arms around her. He’s more than happy to do so. His muscular arms bring her closer to his chest as he relaxes.
Before the next words leave his mouth, he has to make sure ____ is sound asleep.
"I can’t wait to ask you to marry me, sweetheart. I can’t wait to see you in that white dress walking towards me like the angel you are"
He hopes she says yes, he hopes the ring brings the biggest smile on her face.
He hopes.
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sulumuns-dootah · 3 days
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Can I request a headcanon of whb kings reacting to gn mc cracking their bones(?) I genuinely don't know what's it called lol... I don't really know if demons do that but it would be funny if they don't and mc just suddenly did that during a steamy moment..
WHB kings w/ an s/o who cracks their knuckles and joints
⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 
A/N: I hc that demons can't do this bc their bodies work a bit different from ours, so to them it just looks like you're breaking them
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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What are you doing?!
Oh, that... Doesn't hurt you?
Satan demands answers and tutorial on how he can do that as well
It looks cool and right up his alley
If your joints pop at random, he'll at first think that you really did break a bone or something
How can your body be so fragile?
Wait, your body does that by itself and just for the fun of it?
Hmmf... Human bodies are so weird...
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"Are you okay, master?"
When he hears the cracking sound he's immediatelly by your side, ready to assist you and get you to a doctor
Then he realises you're doing that on purpose and he's flabbergasted
Is breaking their knuckles just a human thing?
Now, during spicy time I can imagine he's just pushing your legs up agains your chest and then he hears the *crack*
His heart stops and he ceases all movent
He just broke your back or worse, didn't he?
It takes full minutes to reassure him that you're okay and that he didn't break anything
       ༺☆༻
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Stop that immediatelly
Levi is uncomfortable and won't hesitate to hang you for something so cringe-inducing
Doesn't care that it's normal for humans
He's the king and you will listen to him
Even if your body does is by accident, he'll shoot you death glares
Honestly? His irritation partially comes from him being worried and you doing this will make it harder in the future to distinguish whether you need a doctor
Oh, but Glasyalabolas is very interessted in this feature and wants to know everything
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Oho? What just happened?
Prepare to explain why or how you're cracking your knuckles each time bc this bit of information is not staying in his brain
All that matters is that you're safe and sound
You want candy?
Random joint pops usually don't even go noticed during spicy time with Beel, since you're both too preoccupied with each other
Your joints cracking are a good way to destinguish between the real Beel and Bael pretending to be him, though
Bael will freak out and wanna take you to Paradise Lost fro a checkup
       ༺☆༻
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Ugh... What is that noise?
'Who tf is snapping twigs in my room?'
When he looks over, he just sees you absentmindedly cracking your knuckles
He's too tired to interrogate you about that, but Beleth does get it as his number one task on his list
If your knees act like they're 400 years old, Belphie will always make a comment about it while you're on top
I kinda want to say that Belphie is an outlier and his joints also crack since he moves so little and when he finally tries to use them they get offended
       ༺☆༻
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Luci is aware of some features of human bodies, but even this is kinda surprising to him
Why would you do that to yourself?
Still, he's not worried since as a healer he knows what makes your joints crack and pop
He does wish you'd not do that around him, though
If that happens on accident, he'll ignore it unless you sound off that that particular one was painful
All the demons in Paradise Lost are aware of your joints randomly popping and don't question it
It's even written into your medical file
Somehow, Gamigin missed the memo and freaks out each time and is worried even after your explanation
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skrunksthatwunk · 2 months
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last minute pre-grandparent-visit room deep cleaning has revealed that within the drawer i tend to assume just has old, off generic birthday cards and theater/concert programs there are also many, many going away cards and letters and things from the last couple of times i moved away. i guess i always thought of it as such a lonely thing, and i talk a lot about how i don't think i made Real friends until recently, and not to get choked up on main or anything but i think maybe i was completely fucking wrong
#Real friends = deep friends and admittedly it's hard to have deep connections with ppl when you're like 10#and also hard to have deep connection with people when you don't understand yourself at all (bc how could you share it?)#but i was so profoundly loved.#and it's not like the bday cards and stuff aren't a part of that they're just so.. obligatory? whereas such cards from friends is. guhhh#like they missed me. maybe they still do at least a little bit. ahhhhhhh#like i was a shithead but i meant something to a lot of good people and so many of these aren't from just one person#they're a bunch of them coming together and bringing along inside jokes i only half remember and drawing my fucking ocs like GUYS.#GUYS I LOVE YOU GUYS. i may not remember all of you but you were like. goddd i think you made this bearable#and im so glad i saved these. i didn't know there were so many#speaking of which i also found THREE count em THREE decks of cards i know for a fact i have never used bc i have a favorite deck and it's#not those. what off the wall madness was i planning where i needed three non-matching decks of cards within sleep-reach at all times#anyway im reorganizing bc like 10% of that drawer was stuff i actually needed regularly (literally Just the knives) and it's a nightstand#so it should be like. stuff i frequently need like pens and junk. idk#like it's not as if i don't think about how my moving away hurt ppl like i've been abandoning ppl against my will my whole life#but i guess ive been thinking of it as some kind of responsibility or guilt thing? or painful in a me-centric way. they sent me off#with well wishes though they poured their hearts into these. they drew and printed photos and made little crafts bc they loved me#and that's what you do when someone you love has to go away. waughhhhgghhghbn
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ikemenomegas · 1 year
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the myy oc is simultaneously the one to make obnoxious little squeeing noises whenever megumi does literally anything and make tsumiki bring along disposable cameras on vacation because it's the only way to get her to admit what she's *actually* looking at, and the one to literally puke in the bushes or hide against a wall when Satoru does something that gives them secondhand embarrassment
literally the can't take it but can dish it out guardian XD
#like they're good at making sure not to hurt satoru's feelings lol because sometimes he does incredibly cringey things on purpose#and sometimes he just does things and they accidentally don't turn out well haha#megumi just grits his teeth and bears it#i wish i had more time in which to flesh out tsumiki's character and relationship with this oc tbh#i think they're dynamic would be so objectively bizarre#bc tsumiki is a people pleaser who's secretly resentful/dissatisfied#(like people forget she's also an abandoned child. whose mom ran off with effing toji of all people. she absolutely has mommy issues)#vs the myy oc who is attempting to be a recovering people pleaser and is also secretly kind of disappointed in the world lol#so it's the two of them giving each other stepford smiles while also legitimately trying to bond#this is myy oc's opportunity to attempt doing normal people activities and trying to find out of any of them are actually fun XD#with tsumiki who is also trying to find out if any normal people activities are actually fun#and tsumiki probably realizing she has depression one day rip because none of these activities bring her even a spark of joy or curiosity#she's just anxious the whole time because she's silently calculating how much money the outing is costing#even when she knows she won't be paying#and myy oc is anxious because they have no idea if this is the “type of thing girls this age are supposed to do”#the irony is if myy.oc actually took tsumiki to do something a little degenerate/delinquent like take her to a shooting range#she'd have a ball alkjsaf#ooh a rage room and then piano lessons and maybe one of those trampoline/gymnastics places#tsumiki's ideal day she didn't know she needed#io.myy#jjk#fushiguro tsumiki#from the margins
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aeide-thea · 2 years
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also: i just finished n*torious sorcerer, and enjoyed certain aspects of it but was left unimpressed/unconvinced by others (longer letter later on this, maybe? no promises tho), which i guess makes it yet another addition to the growing list of m/m tradpub fantasy novels i wanted to love but ultimately didn't, quite? part of me is honestly starting to wonder if the capacity for love is burnt out of me, although that sounds awfully dramatic and i quite frankly think it's equally possible that we're just getting more and more writers coming up by way of fandom and that it's eaten particular, recognizable sorts of holes (ha) in their skillsets...
#i mean—i don't know‚ that may be confirmation bias#it's not as if writers who didn't cut their teeth on fandom are universally good at‚ say‚ establishing worldbuilding#and not just sketching it out suggestively and relying on readers to supply what's not stated#(also like. at some level good worldbuilding can be sketched out as long as the sketch is *sufficiently* suggestive. sargent style.)#(and certainly overexplaining can easily sour into exposition dump. but like. you know what i mean maybe.)#or at writing women#(and actually on that point i thought this book was notably more successful than‚ say‚ meadows' or rowland's most recent efforts)#(still a bit unbalanced in that there were arguably four major characters—the central m/m couple and then a pair of sisters—#and the men had their arcs‚ i thought‚ much more resolved than the women did)#(in fairness i think the 'gotta leave something for the sequels!' factor may be relevant there)#(but—idk. something to be said abt priorities and whose stories we feel it's necessary to resolve at least the opening act of#vs whose stories we think we can leave in-progress and still feel as though we've tied up enough loose ends to have a satisfying book)#anyway—i hope obviously!—i'm not saying writing romance between two men is somehow an intrinsically misogynist move#but like. esp if you're writing something that's got a plot bigger than just the romance‚ i do feel like you ought to have women characters#and they ought to be given enough weight to feel like full people‚ even if they're full people we aren't focusing on#or otherwise spending a ton of time with#i don't know. i don't want to carp about any of this. i want to be magically presented with stories i love#where i don't feel the need to start squinting suspiciously at aspects of them because they've successfully convinced me#i wish i could tell whether the problems are with what i'm reading or with me :/#(very possibly both. road to el dorado gif only it's the dark version so no one has a goatee.)#bookblogging#you may have gotten the impression that i love to be a hater but i'm actually very tired of it#would love to be transported actually! cue patrick wolf the days
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violetclarity · 4 months
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started last night online shopping for new bras/bralettes because mine have gotten gross af, ended it looking at crochet bralette patterns so I could make a rainbow top for pride. I solved a different problem??
#here is my issue. here. is my issue.#I want the bra(lette) to be *not hideous*#I also have larger boobs. apparently.#like I don't think they're large tbqh esp. compared to my general body size/shape#I don't find it painful or especially annoying to go braless at home but it probably wouldn't be appropriate to do so at work#(it seems like a lot of people I know who do have large chests do *not* go braless which is why I said they don't seem large to me)#so I don't need something that is like miraculously supportive or whatever#I just need it to FIT my goddamn CHEST#I cannot stand the weird line/bump where the bra ends and you can see it through my shirt which is my issue with my current bra(lette)s#so even though I probably *should* try to find a better brand I think I'm just gonna buy the same brand again in a larger size this time#and hope for the best#(I went to get a proper bra fitting last year because I was more annoyed about how bad my bras looked then)#(and they fit me into an underwire bra that at the time I thought looked/felt good)#(except when I got it home and tried it on it was SO PAINFUL)#(like cannot wear for more than ten minutes painful. save for special occasions painful.)#(sometimes I put it on thinking I'll try to wear it for work and give up before I leave the house)#(it would have been okay if I'd only bought the one bc I could suffer through for the occasional special even but I bought two)#(and didn't return the second one in time and it. was. EXPENSIVE.)#(also can't ask my mom for advice again bc I don't want to admit to her that I did that lmao anyway)#why does she suddenly care about her bras again? haha well. um. well.#if someone *else* is going to see it I don't want it to be stained y'know??#I have some standards. minimal. but they are there.#anyway wish me luck with my crochet rainbow bralette for pride#I'm walking in the parade this year w my sports league so I gotta look Extra Cute y'know#if one of the men in charge tries to tell me we all need to be fully dressed I will simply bite his head off#bras cw
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moinsbienquekaworu · 8 months
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Good evening beloved (though hopefully you are already sleeping bc it is v late), I started reading that comic you had mentioned and omg. I am very in love with this for totally hinged reasons. The dynamics here are god-tier. In a very non-horny way this is easily one of the best explorations of the batfam dynamics I've read (though obv the smut part doesn't hurt any lmao). Thank you for reccing it!
Anyway may you have a good night and sleep well!!
Yoo!!! I'm glad you like it it really did Something to me years ago lol. Not enough to get me into the DC universe but y'know. I'm so so glad past me stumbled upon it at random like this and the stars aligned in such a way that I could blindly rec you something you like haha. Enjoy the experience! (and there's probably more fun stuff on the website for these characters, though I don't know about dynamics)
#i am unfortunately not asleep#i'm actually chugging a can of monster for the first time in my life and then forcing myself to write an overdue essay#it's on academic success in the uk depending on ethnicity language disability social class & such#i'm so so overdue for it so it's just a race to finish it this night so i can upload it at an ungodly hour and then sleep until 4pm#gotta love finals when it's your xth year in a row and you have unmedicated adhd!#i don't know if the monster is doing anything btw but it doesn't taste Bad and the placebo ritual of it probably does something#oh how i wish i was having blorbo thoughts... but alas. education system be upon me#worse - studies on academic performance in primary and secondary school!#did you know in england religious studies are mandatory in state schools?#cause i didn't but it's in the national curriculum! fucked#anyway. 😔 i'm not even done after this#i have to do special considerations for the other essays i couldn't do#and then MORE ASSIGNMENTS!#and THEN i'm done. and i can bake some biscuits.#man i would give you biscuits if i could. they're great biscuits#how much do you like biscuits actually? like uh. sablés. shortbread biscuits?#they're a great recipe cause they're easy and you can make them a lot of fun shapes#one of my adult goals will be looking out for fun cookie cutters so i can make fun shaped biscuits#my housemate says he has star wars ones at his parents' and i would LOVE to have some as well#i need a good cookie cutter collection. that and bedsheets and fun mugs and. so many fun house delights....#ANYWAY. education.#ever think about how girls outperform boys in school across the board and they still get shittier jobs?#good night my darling beloved!#wow i have an asks tag now
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lxnarphase · 8 months
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━━ ❝ come and put your name on it ❞
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special treatment : lap edition
☾₊‧⁺...ft. : gojo satoru + geto suguru + nanami kento + fushiguro toji + hakari kinji
☾₊‧⁺...cw : cockwarming, somnophilia, dirty talk, grinding + dry humping, fingerfucking, overstimulation, praise kink, edging, oral fixation, satoru's silly pet names, suguru being smug, kento being a desperate man, toji being toji, kinji being a bully
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✧ g. satoru : sometimes gojo knows he fucks you too good to the point you can't think after, something he brags about to you all the time. but when you snuggle up to him, still stuffed with his cock and warm with his cum, he can't help but run his hands all over you. and when he realizes you fell asleep on his dick, his heart squeezes and his cock throbs hard.
"pretty angel, did you fall asleep? oh, that's just precious...you're making my heart squeeze, i wish i had my phone, you look so cute like this." "did you say my name? dreaming about me? god, you're so precious, i could just fuck you like this...shit, don't fuckin' squeeze on me like that, are you having a wet dream right now? god, i love you so fucking much." "aww, my little mochi is so cute! look at youuu, you're gushin' all over the place. messy fucking pussy too small to keep my cock and all my cum inside you." "mm, fuck, pretty thing. you wakin' up? hi pretty girl...oooh, fuck, d-did you just cum? holy fuck, c'mon, baby, on your back, lemme fuck you, princess, let 'toru make you cum again, yeah?”
✧ g. suguru : suguru's softly cooing at you when you sleepily walk into the living room, whining to him that you had a dream and you wanted him to 'fix the problem he caused.' all he can do is just chuckle at how childish and bratty you can be as his hands are moving up and down your sides while he grinds up into you.
"you're such a brat, you know that right? always blaming me for your dreams. it's not my fault you can't stop thinking about how good i fuck you." "hmm? ooh, i see...you keep having dreams of me cumming inside you, hm? are you trying to say something, princess? d'you want me to start breeding you?" "i didn't say stop moving, did i? or do you need me to do all the work? heh, so spoiled, i've spoiled you absolutely rotten." "i know, but just cum once like this, won't you? if you do, i promise i'll fill your cute pussy with my cum, okay? mhm, promise, princess, i'll give you what you need."
✧ n. kento : nanami loves having you close to him, especially when you sit in his lap. it lets him nuzzle his nose into your neck, pressing little kisses where he can while your legs are spread over his strong thighs, his thick fingers leisurely pumping in and out of your needy hole, chuckling against your skin whenever you jolt.
"honey, have i mentioned how gorgeous you are? you look so beautiful like this...spread open and wanting, just for me." "you're sucking my fingers in so well. look at that...do you think you can take a third?" "it's so messy. look at what you've done to my fingers, honey, they're soaked. clean them off for me, i want you to taste yourself before i put them back in. maybe tonight we can make you squirt, hm? do you wanna try, darling?" "you think you're going to cum again? poor thing, your little cunt is so greedy, she just wants to cum over and over again on my fingers...is my cock not good enough for you, mm? aww, don't pout, i'm just teasing you, darling." "i know, i know, it's too much, but you can take it. be my good girl, just take it and keep cumming until you can't anymore."
✧ f. toji : sitting on toji's lap is, in his mind, an invitation for him to run his hands all over you. his cock is already hard in his sweats, but he's subdued the second you get comfortable and slowly grind against him, groaning when you press sweet kisses into his neck.
"tch, are you gonna let me fuck your thighs t'night? pretty please? yeah, that's right, i'm askin' nicely. why? don't play stupid, doll, you know what they do to me." "shit...keep moving those hips, sweetheart, you feel so fuckin' good like this." "god, i can feel that pretty pussy leaking through my sweats. big bad toji make you that fuckin' wet, mama? y'like grinding that clit on my dick through my pants? dirty fucking girl." "mmh, you keep tugging my hair like that and I'm not even gonna take you to the bedroom, i will fuck you into this damn couch, woman.” "listen here, wifey, I'll wreck your cunt until you can't think about anything but me inside you. hell, I'll ruin this stupid couch in the process, i don't give a fuck about stainin' it."
✧ h. kinji : when you sit on kinji's lap, it's when he's watching a fight on tv. you can tell it's not going how he wants it to go, the toothpick between his teeth being gnawed on. when you make eye contact with him, he just raises an eyebrow, one of his hands squeezing your hip.
"cupcake, do me a favor and get on my dick before i get up and give us a reason to get a new tv." "hey, hey, don't move yet, let me see if he lands this punch...don't whine like that before i put my fingers in that pretty little mouth t' shut you up." "you always squeeze so tight when i press down on your tongue like this...pretty thing likes that shit, doesn't she? go on, fuck yourself on my dick while you drool all on my fingers like a slut." "mm, shit, baby, i can't focus on that bullshit fight, lemme help you. yeah, thaaaat's it, let your boy fuck you nice and deep, make ya cream, juuuust like this."
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all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 months
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(Don't You) Steal My Thunder
my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles
Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words
summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.
a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.
again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth
masterlist | twisters masterlist
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Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.
He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.
Tyler Owens is a problem.
And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.
Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.
And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.
It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.
Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.
Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.
But he's just such a fucking asshole.
You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.
Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.
Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.
Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.
Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.
You're just doing your job.
The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.
You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).
This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.
And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.
Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.
“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”
“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”
Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.
“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”
His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.
“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”
The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.
By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.
So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.
“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.
Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.
“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.
"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."
You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.
"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.
"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.
His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.
"I don't drink."
You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.
Not that you want to.
"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.
"I don't drink with you."
He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.
"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.
"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."
His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.
"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."
"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."
He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.
"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"
He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.
"I'm not a fan of you."
Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.
"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.
For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.
"I try."
With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.
"I'd still buy you a beer."
"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.
...
You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.
The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.
This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.
It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.
"Hey, weather girl!"
You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.
"What do you want, Owens?"
Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.
"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."
He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.
Not that you'd been about to.
Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.
You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.
You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.
You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.
It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.
Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.
You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.
"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.
"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."
"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."
You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.
"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)
"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.
The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.
"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."
He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.
"Cameras are off, I swear."
You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.
God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.
You're so, so stupid.
"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."
...
You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.
Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...
But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.
When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.
"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.
"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.
"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."
"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."
You pull your eyebrows even further up.
"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"
"Nope. Not familiar."
But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.
You just shake your head and turn away from him.
"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."
...
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.
The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.
Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.
That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.
Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.
It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.
You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.
But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...
"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.
"What?"
"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."
You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.
"You're shitting me."
Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.
"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.
His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.
It takes you a second too long to realise why.
"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"
"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.
"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."
"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."
The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.
"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."
You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.
"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"
"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."
He is.
He's right now. He's right usually.
Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."
You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.
He puts the bill flat on the bar top.
But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.
"The price just went up", he says.
You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.
"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"
He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.
"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.
A kiss.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.
Especially with that forecast.
The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.
"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."
...
At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.
"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.
"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."
"But it collapsed this morning."
You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.
"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"
You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.
"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."
...
You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.
You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.
You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.
He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.
And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.
It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.
"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.
"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.
"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"
"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."
Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.
"Alright, so we wait."
You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.
"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."
You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.
It makes reading close to impossible.
Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.
That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.
You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.
You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.
Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.
Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.
But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.
You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?
So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.
For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.
"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.
"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."
Well, it's hard to break bad habits.
Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?
Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.
"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.
Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.
You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.
"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:
"So I'm Watson, yeah?"
Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.
It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.
You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.
"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.
Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.
And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.
"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."
"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.
Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.
You want more of Tyler Owens.
"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.
"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"
"I could never."
"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."
His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.
"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."
His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.
"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."
And then your lips are on his.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.
He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.
You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.
"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.
"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.
But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.
You chuckle against his lips.
"If you feel it, chase it, right?"
2K notes · View notes
lyrefromthesea · 3 months
Note
Blind reader x hashira + kokushibo? (since she's blind she doesn't know he's a demon?)
Please 🙃
Male hashira (+ Kokushibo) x Reader - Blindness is something I can overlook
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author's note: fun fact, i am partially colorblind.
pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader
content warning: none
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Tengen:
"i like these.." you told him, holding a small chain of jewelry in your hands. the man looked over your shoulder, a content hum leaving him.
normally, people wouldn't take a blind person to shop for accessories with them, but Tengen didn't seem to care. in fact, he had appeared quite eager to take you with him.
now here you were, trying to find a "flashy" - as he'd like to call it - accessory for him. not knowing how they looked, you decided to feel them instead.
some of them were lightly sharp, sure to leave small scratches on his skin. others were rounded and had a smooth surface. you preferred them over the sharp jewelry, but weren't happy with those either.
finally, when your hand brushed over diverse stones, you felt content with the jewelery you've found. it felt like a rope in your hand, but it was made out of small cold stones, which were the perfect mix of smoothness and sharpness.
they varied in size and shape, leaving a good impression on you. especially since they reminded you of the big stones on his headband. when you told him that you liked them, his eyes lit up.
"there's another one here." he said, taking the second chain into his hand. the cool color of the new accessory matched the pink diamonds he already wore.
"they're perfect, beautiful." he told you, giving the cashier a handful of money. he didn't wait to get the rest of his money back, too focused on the gift you've found him.
"are you just saying that or do you mean it?" you ask, yet you smiled right after, knowing that he was being honest when he talked to you.
"they're great - flashy. i'll make sure to wear them everywhere." he was already attaching them to the side of his headband, determined to keep his promise true.
yet you were only focused on the softness that had sneaked into his voice, showing his appreciation for the newfound treasure.
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Obanai:
he didn't mind your blindness, welcomed it even. he would've never admitted it to you, never told you - knowing it would probably hurt your feelings.
but he felt it was better that way, better for you not to see him. he was hideous and he knew it.
so why, after years of insecurity, he allowed someone to see his state of weakness. his heart nearly sunk when you asked him to let you see him.
he had told you it wasn't important, that he just needed to be there for you, but you had insisted and he couldn't deny you a single wish.
now he held himself back from moving away, his heart beating faster as he saw your hands nearing his uncovered face.
yet the contrast of his feelings and the soft warmth of your touch left him puzzled. you were sitting right next to him, hands cupping his cheek. more importantly, your thumbs were carefully tracing over his scars.
he knew you could feel the difference under your thumb, could feel how different he was from other people. part of him had expected you to leave him after finding out how hideous he truly looked.
"you're beautiful.." you whispered, his eyes widening like they've never done before. he was left speechless by your words, swallowing down his fear to respond.
"you don't have to lie." he answered, voice unstable. he couldn't believe that someone could love him, not when he was like this.
"i wish i could see you with my eyes." his trembling hands touched yours, squeezing them just lightly. he knew how much those words meant, you had never spoken them out before.
and it wasn't only your wish. he could feel the desire to make you see swell up in his own chest. to imagine that he thought differently before - it felt stupid to him now.
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Rengoku:
"open your mouth and close your eyes!" he instructed, making you halt.
did he just? he did not, right? ..right?
"Kyojuro..?" you carefully said his name, making the man answer with a hum. he still held his spoon in hand, having wanted to give you a bite of his food.
you raised your hand, waving it in front of your face. it took him a moment to catch on, realizing that his words had been stupid to the core.
"oh- i certainly didn't-" he stopped when he heard you snort, wide eyes watching you smile and laugh. his heart started beating faster, his cheeks flushing.
you clearly weren't mad or disappointed, but he felt embarrassed for forgetting something so obvious. the words slipped out of his mouth before he could even register it.
"it's fine, don't worry." you answered, putting a comforting hand on his. you leaned forward, taking the spoon into your mouth and chewing on the food before swallowing it down.
"is that sashimi? it's really good." you complimented, the note of wasabi still lingering on your tongue.
"do you want me to order some more?" he asked, turning his hand around to hold yours. you hummed, a small smile forming on your face.
days like these were your favourite - the perfect mix of romantic and silly.
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Sanemi:
"it should be around here.." you mumbled, pulling the white haired man with you. his eyes were fixated on your surroundings, trying to figure out what exactly drove you towards this place.
"ah- can you smell it?" you gasped, turning your head towards the right, trying to pick up on the floral scent lingering in the air.
"no.." he answered, shaking his head lightly. no matter what he thought off, he couldn't come up with a reason why you'd bring him here.
nevertheless, his legs continued moving, not because he was necessarily interested, but because he wanted to make you happy.
that's why his eyes widened when you walked past multiple trees, reaching a giant flower field.
now he understood what you were talking about, the floral aroma enveloping his senses. he felt you letting go of his hand, leaning down to pick one of the flowers and smell on it.
the field was beautiful, full of the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. however, he realized that was a sight you'd never experience, slowly lowering himself in the grass next to you.
he took one of the flowers, mimicking your actions and breathing in it's scent. if you couldn't see what he was seeing, he could at least try experiencing the same as you.
"it's beautiful.."
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Giyuu:
"like this." his voice was quiet, but it sounded much thicker and lower than the night's silence. he had asked you to show him your hand, but when you asked how, he guided it into the correct position.
your palm was facing him, fingers feeling the wind brush between them, teasing you with light touches and the surrounding silence.
you felt his hand on yours, his fingers brushing over your palm, gently drawing different forms onto your skin.
"it tickles.." you whispered, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he started tapping along your skin. a gentle huff escaped him, the one that made you know he was smiling.
"that's how i feel when i see you.." he answered, his hand finally pressing against yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle hold.
you silently scooted closer, the night's air sending a comfortable chill over your body. it didn't take him long to hold you closer, letting his body's warmth settle into your skin.
"you make me feel ticklish all around.. sometimes i worry i won't be able to think when i see you." he admitted, coaxing a smile out of you.
he didn't mind that you couldn't see, because he could see your beauty either way.
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Gyomei:
some might say it would be ironic for two blind people to fall in love or befriend each other, but it certainly worked out for the two of you.
you admired his strength and he admired yours. truthfully, he hadn't noticed you at first, hadn't questioned why you used another weapon than the other demon slayers, but it all made sense when he found out about your blindness.
"this is your weapon of choice?" he had asked when the two of you joined a mission. he held a long rope dart in his hand - your treasure. Haganezuka had created the weapon for you.
the usually normal rope was made out of a thin chain, helping you coordinate throughout the fight. naturally, Gyomei who also used a special weapon, was intrigued by it.
"due to my lack of strength, it's the only suitable weapon for me." you answered, your fingers tracing over the axe he carried around with him. it was much heavier than your weapon, fitting for the man, who was much taller than you.
"it is a good choice indeed. i admire your critical thinking skills." he admitted, a smile displaying on his face.
and though you would sadly never see the happy look he'd give you in the future, you certainly liked the content tone of his voice.
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Kokushibo:
he didn't remember his former loved ones. he didn't remember his wife. he didn't remember his child. their faces were a blur that he had created himself.
but you weren't. you were well. you were alive. he didn't need to remember the past when he could enjoy the presence with you.
his own human, the one he swore to protect. perhaps the gods have blessed him this time around, just like they had blessed his damned brother before.
the one person Kokushibo yearned to have just had to be a human. his surprise when he realized you weren't able to see was immaculate. he felt compassionate. and relieved.
"greetings.." the male spoke, stepping through the small gate of your house. the area was surrounded by wisteria, but like the gods had wanted him to find you, they left a small path for him.
"Kokushibo, it's you!" you smiled, standing up and letting go of the flowers in your hand. it took some time, but you managed to grow some in your garden.
the demon watched you move towards him, affectionately taking his hand like you've known each other forever. "you came back earlier this time."
"i happened to have a bit of free time.." he answered, low voice filling you with contentedness. while he made sure to look at you, his other eyes glanced at the garden.
the world could be dangerous for a blind person, but you've built your own small paradise between the rows of poisonous trees.
"let's get you inside, it's quite cold." you said, leading him towards the entrance of your very own home.
he wondered if he could keep up this facade of trust or if you would hate him after you've found out that the enemy stood in your house.
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2K notes · View notes
thriftedtchotchkes · 1 month
Text
how do you sleep?
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: joel's always there to comfort you with his words and a warm bed after a nightmare, but tonight, you need a little more
warnings: 18+ MDNI, jackson era, soft!joel, comfort, undefined relationship, getting together, mentions of nightmares & insomnia, smut, unprotected piv, slow/intimate sex, creampie
word count: 3.3k
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“Whas’wrong?”
You didn't mean to end up here again. It's the third night this week you swiped Joel's key from under the doormat and found yourself standing in his bedroom doorway.
"Can't sleep," you reply, barely above a whisper. Exhaustion seeps into your voice, permeating your limbs the longer you remain standing.
He already knows why you're here. Ever since you, Joel, and Ellie arrived in Jackson and were offered homes of your own, rest evades you more than it ever did on the road. It's too quiet here, and your racing mind fills the silence with the horrors of a life lived in constant fear.
You know you're safe now. You know that, but it's not enough to convince your body or quell the ever-present tightness in your chest telling you to run, to hide. Your fears are more potent in the dark, and the shadows creeping from wall to wall have sharper edges. Teeth that threaten to tear you apart and rip away everything and everyone you've fought so hard to protect.
The walls and floorboards creak with life that shouldn't be present in an empty, two-story home—too big for a single person, and yet still yours—and quickly begin to sound like impending death.
Nowadays, more often than not, you seek out a different kind of shelter. The familiar, comforting embrace of the man who kept you warm and protected through harsh winters and from monsters prowling in the night. That's where you belong.
Crisp bedsheets rustle in the dark and then you hear Joel pat the mattress twice—an invitation to occupy the space beside him, the one he always leaves empty just in case.
"Well, c'mon then. Hurry up," he grumbles, still half-asleep. But he isn’t frustrated. He's tired, just like you, and he'll probably sleep a lot better knowing both of his girls are resting soundly under his roof.
You trudge over and waste no time burying your face in his bare chest, breathing in pine and cedar wood shavings before exhaling a heavy sigh of relief. Throwing a leg over his thighs, you mold into him, rubbing your cheek into coarse curls and marveling at the calm, steady rhythm beneath you.
It feels good to be home. You're not sure why you let Maria give you an entire house to yourself when everything you could ever want or need was right across the street. Every time you end up back here, you wonder. And every time you leave, you wish you'd stayed.
He wraps you up in his arms and tugs you into his side, murmuring your name with soft lips that tenderly caress your forehead. They're so warm, just like the rest of him, and you find yourself aching to feel them on yours. It's a line neither of you have ever crossed, but tonight's been rough.
For what felt like days, you were forced to watch as your worst nightmares came to bloody fruition. You were dragged through the most brutal outcomes of events you already survived and could do nothing more than pray you'd wake up soon. When you finally came to and checked the clock, it had only been an hour and a half since you'd passed out. The moon was still high in the sky, taunting you with the promise of more. More dread, endless brutality.
Joel can make all of that go away, if only for a few hours. He always does, but tonight...you don't want to talk about it tonight. You don't want to think about it, about anything at all. You just want him.
You'd feel selfish asking for more if there wasn't already something between you. Something nurtured and gradual that's been building for months, beginning on your travels across the country and coming to an unignorable head here in Jackson.
Back then, it was stolen glances while you bathed together in streams and fleeting touches in your shared sleeping bag under star-filled skies. It's more intimate these days. He holds your hand when you're anxious, and you kiss away the frown lines and frustrated wrinkles that mar his skin.
Every day, you skirt the line between platonic companionship and whatever's starting to simmer below the surface. You're scared to hope he feels it too, but the thought of remaining in this undefined middle ground scares you even more.
The furnace drifting in and out of consciousness next to you radiates with an addictive heat you've told yourself to ignore for a long time, but it's quickly becoming an impossible feat. Pressed into his side, you're trying and failing not to writhe against him. But he's starting to notice.
His hips jerk every time your core drags against his bare thigh, a slow, repetitive grind you really shouldn't continue, but feels so fucking good combined with the slick pooling between your legs. You should stop—really, you should—but his breathing's changing and hitching, catching in his throat every time the growing tent in his boxers meets the friction of your inner thigh.
Then, he gasps something cognizant and urgent, and you know you've been caught. His hand snakes down to your ass and traps you against his side with a grip so firm, plush skin spills between his fingers.
“Woah, hold on there," he breathes out heavily, and his gaze drops to yours curiously. His eyes are wide open and alert, shining with the faint reflection of moonlight streaming through an adjacent window. Bright and yet pitch black as his sleep-addled brain struggles to catch up with his body. "What's goin' on with you tonight?"
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, debating whether or not to ask for his help. His expression is gentle but otherwise unreadable, and there's a chance this could go very, very badly. Maybe you'd be better off apologizing, but you don't want to. You're not sorry for needing him.
And the longer he waits for an answer, the more his body convinces you that he wants the same things you do. His hand is still on your ass, kneading as he urges you to rock into him, but he doesn't seem to realize he's doing it. Then, his thigh flexes and a rush of wetness coats your already soaked underwear. His expression falters, and you know he can feel it.
His voice is tighter when he speaks again, but that tinge of concern is still there. He wants to make it all better, but he can't unless you tell him how. Your hand tenses where it lies on his chest, and he covers it with his own.
"What can I do? Just tell me how to help you—whatever it is, I'll do it," he murmurs, brushing his thumb reassuringly across your skin. You tilt your chin up and suddenly you're close enough to breathe his air. Closer than you've ever been and yet still not close enough.
"I need you to...," Fuck me. But it sounds too crude. A quick fuck isn't what you need right now. You need to be full of him, to hold him deep inside you and keep him there for as long as this night will allow. "...make me feel safe again."
"Tell me how," he repeats as you struggle to bite back a moan. He's working you against him intentionally now, encouraging you up and down his leg, and it's making your brain go a little haywire. "What do you need, baby?"
"Joel," you whine at the endearment, an intense heat building at the apex of your thighs. That's new. You want to hear him say it again, to devour every word as he buries himself inside you over and over. You will him to understand. "I need you."
He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, steeling himself before nosing into the hairs at your temple. The gesture is so tender and affectionate even as he bucks into your thigh, and it's painfully obvious how hard you're making him. He nods slowly and plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his chest rising and falling more rapidly than before.
"Okay, baby. I got you," he murmurs, his lips trailing down to your eyelids, then the apple of your cheek. "I'll make it all go away, alright? M'gonna take care of you."
And you believe him. He rolls you onto your back and you gasp as his entire weight presses you into the mattress. It's more than just comforting. You feel protected. He's shielding you from this horrible, broken world, somehow managing to prove that there's still goodness to be found. And it's on top of you, broad and strong, and wanting you just as badly as you want him.
Big hands cup your cheeks and his lips meet yours, so much different than the familiar press against your forehead or the top of your head. You're in unknown territory, but he guides you carefully and moves slowly, taking the time to explore and savor. The taste of spearmint begins to overwhelm your senses as the kiss deepens, and you lick into his mouth impatiently, already craving more.
But after years of quiet observation, Joel knows better than anyone how to temper you. Ducking down to bury his face in your neck, he kisses along the underside of your jaw, regaining control of the pace with a sharp, halting suck. And while he refuses to let your urgency rush him, he still allows your hands to roam his skin and tug at his boxers, letting you take what you want—like his only goal is to make sure this lasts long enough for him to fulfill his promise.
A disgruntled groan bubbles in your throat, and you feel him chuckle. "Y'know, patience is supposed to be a virtue," he mumbles, amused, his beard scratchy and grounding against your skin. You huff in response.
Tonight doesn't feel like a night for virtues. Not when things are finally changing in your favor. After so much time, so much running, you actually have somewhere to go—and stay. You're not running away anymore. You're moving towards something that feels real, and dependable, and safe, and you're doing it together. And now that you're so close you can taste it, you're done waiting.
"You're really gonna start caring about virtues now?" you ask skeptically, slipping your hands past the waistband of his boxers to grab his ass.
He hesitates, then huffs out a quiet laugh. "Fair enough."
And with that, you both know the time for talking is over. Something shifts and you're on the same page, ready to take as much as the other is willing to give.
Joel begins to drag your shirt up to reveal more, but suddenly feeling stifled, you take over and remove it completely. The look on his face makes it more than worth it. It's not the first time he's seen you naked, but as his eyes rake over your bare curves, it feels like it could be. Reverently, he returns his lips to yours, kissing you deeply before charting a path lower.
His mouth feels hot as he laves and nips across your collarbone, and he shimmies further down the bed until he's just barely ghosting the swell of your breasts. You gasp, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a bruise below your nipple and soothes the sting with his tongue. Licking a wide stripe past the darkening mark, he captures the bud between his teeth, another hand sliding up your stomach to cup your other breast while he alternates between swirling and sucking.
Your entire body feels like it's on fire. The ache between your thighs worsens the longer he continues, but instead of squeezing them together for relief, you wrap your legs around his waist and tug him onto you. By now, you're so wet, there's no way you're not soaking right through your underwear and into his boxers, and you hope he can feel it. If your increasing volume isn't enough of an indication that you need him inside you, then maybe this will be.
He lets out a pained groan into your chest, and you clench in satisfaction. He immediately grinds down, thrusting into you like he's forgotten about the layers of clothing still separating you. You don't bother to remind him.
Bucking him off, you quickly wrench down your underwear then reach for his, yanking them off while he sheds his t-shirt. Your fingers close around his cock before his shirt hits the floor and he startles before melting into your grip, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting around a cross between a sigh and the neediest whine you've ever heard.
You feel that telltale whoosh between your legs again, and after pumping him a few times, you guide him toward your entrance. In the back of your mind, you know you're taking a risk without a condom. You should be safer, more responsible. But it's Joel. It's always been Joel.
His eyes shoot open once he realizes where you're leading him, but you only bite your lip and nod, your expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. An unspoken agreement passes between you, a quiet understanding cultivated through years of friendship and now something more. Then, he presses inside and your mind goes blissfully blank.
No more horrors, no more fear. Just Joel keeping his promise and doing exactly what you trusted him to do. He encompasses you entirely, pressing the length of his body flush against yours as he works himself into you. The stretch was nothing you ever could've anticipated, but it grounds you in the present moment. It's everything you told yourself not to hope for when you showed up on his doorstep tonight.
His movements are slow but powerful, and he rests his forehead on yours, eyes alert and acutely aware of every change in expression. The intensity of his gaze and the slick sound of him burying himself to the hilt should make you self-conscious—it's all you can see and hear, but that's the point, isn't it? To get lost in the way he drags so perfectly against your walls and grinds his hips into yours on every thrust, slow and steady.
He's attentive, cataloging whenever he makes you moan a little louder or your eyes roll, and repeats it again and again until you're writhing underneath him. Your nails rake down his back and scratch at his scalp, and he jerks forward whenever you're a little too rough, hitting so deep, it feels like he's grazing your cervix. But the longer he continues to give you everything you want, the more his body trembles with the effort of holding himself back.
You know Joel, and you can tell when he's resisting an urge. His biceps tense where he's propped on his forearms, bracketing your head, and there's so little space between you, you can feel his abs flexing every time he plunges back inside you. He needs more and you want to give it to him.
Lifting your head, you bridge the tiny gap to meet his lips. "Joel, c'mon. You can fuck me harder than that, I'm not gonna break," you mumble between open-mouthed kisses. That catches him off guard.
He accidentally lets himself go for a thrust or two, and you're cut off by a moan, your walls squeezing him so hard, it's painful. Somehow, you manage to recover just long enough to gasp out the rest. "It's okay if you need something from me, too. Just take it. I trust you."
For an agonizing moment, Joel pauses to observe you, waiting for something in your eyes to contradict the permission you just gave him. But when he doesn't find it, he shakily exhales the breath he'd been holding and his head drops to your shoulder. The groan that follows rumbles so deeply in his chest, it makes your stomach drop. Then, without warning, his hands are gripping your thighs and he's rutting into you like a caged animal finally set free.
There he is. The man who never hesitated to gun down anyone who threatened the safety of his loved ones and did whatever it took to bring his girls home.
Recognition washes over you and fills you with a familiar feeling of security. It's something only Joel has ever been able to give you. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his hair, hoping to return even a fraction of that feeling.
As he gives into his body, he starts to ramble, his words muffled and lost to your delicate skin. But you don't need to hear him to know what he's saying. With every thrust, the bed frame rattles and gets the message across loud and clear. Your heels dig into his back, encouraging him forward, begging him to keep going, and he obliges, quickly reduced to helpless grunts and curses.
The room gets increasingly hotter and more humid, and the cool air flowing through the window isn't nearly enough to provide relief, but neither of you seems to care. You're a little in love with the way your bodies slip together, sweat and slick intermingling seamlessly.
Everything is so wet, and it feels incredible—your skin against his, your walls pulsing around his cock. He's molding into you, so close that you can't do much more than swivel your hips into his, and it's sending you hurtling toward the edge faster than you can fully process. The coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit just right, and when he adjusts the angle to fuck you deeper than before, you hit your peak.
You dissolve into a whimpering mess beneath him, desperately riding out your orgasm as he groans and abruptly bites down on your shoulder. Releasing your legs to grab your waist, he forces himself impossibly further inside you and grinds into your spasming walls until he's coming with you. He gasps his way through it, stilling while he lets you milk him dry, then collapses on top of you and gathers you in his arms.
For a while, you both struggle to catch your breath. The mattress is bare save for the fitted sheet, your clothes, pillows, and blankets having been kicked or tossed onto the floor. It feels nice like this—to savor the winter air cooling your bodies and to just be held. Without letting you go, Joel lifts his head to kiss the teeth marks he left on your shoulder apologetically and then shifts higher to press his lips against the underside of your jaw.
"You alright?" he asks gently, his voice a little gruffer than usual from the exertion.
"Mhm," you hum, nosing into his temple. "More than." He sighs and almost sounds relieved.
The thought makes your heart ache. If he's worried he crossed a line, well. He did. You both did, but it was a long time coming and you don't regret a thing. You squeeze him a little tighter as if to tell him, and he allows himself to melt into you briefly. Then, he draws back to cup your cheek and guide your lips to his.
He kisses you slowly, taking the time to appreciate the sensation of your mouth against his without any urgency. "Feel better?" he murmurs after reluctantly parting from you. You keep him close.
"I don't think we have to worry about any more nightmares tonight," you reply with a small smile. He returns it, eyes crinkling fondly, then rolls you onto your sides to settle in for a good night's sleep.
As you start to drift off, you hear him chuckle and mutter something under his breath that you don't quite catch. But it sounds a lot like, "Might be time for you to finally move in."
thanks for reading!
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Steve and Eddie work together in an aquarium, and Eddie is losing his mind. He's in love, he's got the most embarrassing crush, but Steve doesn't even notice him.
They barely interact, and Eddie only knows Steve's first name. He doubts Steve knows he exists, he's just one of many tour guides (but he's amazing with kids and especially teenagers, so he's actually a great tour guide, thank you very much!)
Back to Steve. Steve, with his lean muscles, easy smile, thick hair and beautiful, but somehow sad eyes. That Steve.
The Steve who works in the aquarium as a merman.
Eddie could watch him for hours, floating in the tank with grace Eddie didn't know existed, with his sparkly yellow mermaid tail, flowing hair and chest hair, and that man can hold his breath for so long? Think of the options, the possibilities!
The mermaid show is insanely popular among all the kids and teens, even adults. His best friend Chrissy was the one who recommended Eddie to the aquarium, she's the main mermaid, and god, if Eddie wasn't gay, she'd have him at her feet. She always looks so effortless, twirling underwater in her emerald green mermaid tail, spinning around Steve. They make such a beautiful pair, it makes Eddie want to weep.
Fortunately, she's already in a happy relationship, so Steve is reportedly still single. Chrissy makes Eddie massage her feet in the evenings - he offered, they're cramping from a bad fit of the tail - and graciously answers all Eddie's reasonable questions, such as "how do his hands feel?" ("Wet. We're swimming, remember?").
She keeps telling Eddie to ask Steve out, but Eddie isn't stupid. That man is the god Poseidon himself, and Eddie is but a humble crab in his kingdom. So he admires him from afar, longing, pining and making Chrissy's head hurt.
But Steve's just so good with kids, Eddie can't keep his mouth shut. He always mutters something to Steve as he's ushering the kids away. "Great show, sweetheart," or "I love that smile, Stevie," or "need help getting that tail off?" He's only a man, and no one can hear him.
Except for a nosy tour coordinator listening in through his earpiece, Robin Buckley. She also happens to be Steve's best friend, Chrissy's girlfriend, and a menace to society.
And maybe one day she tells Steve to just smooch the tour guide, maybe she spills a few of the longing whispers and wishful stares, but she's only human too. A human who's had to listen to Steve's ramblings about the cute guy who always pulls the kids' attention like a magnet, who even through the blurry glass tank seems to be having an amazing time. Steve sometimes asks Robin for an extra earpiece and listens to the rest of Eddie's tour after the show. He loves his enthusiasm. Once Eddie even drew a heart on Steve's tank, can you imagine that, Rob?!
Maybe Robin and Chrissy have to work together to give the two idiots what they need, because Eddie considers himself too nerdy and plain for Steve, ans Steve thinks he's too dumb and shallow for Eddie.
Maybe Chrissy fakes slipping into the mermaid tank and drags Eddie with her. Maybe Robin is there and quickly gets Steve to jump after him. Maybe she makes the innocent mistake of insuating that Eddie can't swim.
And maybe, when Steve and Eddie are back on firm ground, confused and wet, Chrissy splashes them with water and asks if pretending that it's mouth to mouth resuscitation would help, or if they can finally kiss and stop pining for each other.
And one more maybe...maybe in a few weeks, when Eddie ushers the children away after the show, he kisses his palm and presses it against the tank, and watches Steve do the same, before he can give him a proper kiss after their shift.
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violenteconomics · 1 month
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as a prank, ace and epel start referring to their upperclassmen as members of their family rather than by name — when they're not actually talking to their upperclassmen, of course — just to see how long it will take them to notice. and after a while, the other freshmen start doing it, too.
ace is the first one to come up with this idea. he think it's a harmless little thing, a prank that'll cause plenty of mayhem but won't get him in any serious trouble. so he starts referring to cater and trey as his dad and mom respectively, and riddle as his uptight, no-nonsense older brother.
("one time i saw my brother try to put one of mom's tart into like a ziplock bag to save it for later, and when he took it out like two days afterwards, it fell apart immediately and he started bawling, ha ha! my dad got the whole thing on camera and shared it with me — i can show you if you want.")
he ropes epel in on the plan. epel is a little more hesitant, but seeing this as a way to get back at vil, even in a small way, he agrees to it. vil is now "ma" and rook is now "pa". people do start to wonder why he still uses he/him pronouns to refer to his supposed mother, but they decide not to question it too much.
("a few months ago, my pa told me a story about how one time my ma was trying to comb his hair, only for his comb to get stuck. so he got another comb to get the first one out, and that ended up getting stuck, too. five combs later, and peepaw had to rush him to the barber for an emergency haircut. it was pretty funny, but now i'm left wondering how pa even knew that story... hold on, i need to check my bathroom mirror for cameras, excuse me.")
surprisingly, deuce catches on pretty quickly, and he starts thinking maybe it's a new dorm policy. he doesn't know why, or why nobody else seems to be doing it, but ace seems pretty sure of himself, so he starts doing it, too, if a bit awkwardly.
("my brother always gets on my case for my bad grades. it's a little frustrating, but he only does it because he cares. my dad tutors me whenever he can, but he's not very good at studying, either. but whenever i do get good grades on my report card, my mom makes me egg tarts!")
yuu starts after they ask ace about it, and thinking it's a good prank, they decide to join in on a little mischief. so they start referring to all the teachers as their "dad". it makes people really confused, because they assume they only have one dad, two at most, but "dad" seems to change personalities every single time they talk about him.
("i was helping my dad do paperwork the other day, except we didn't get anything done and spent the entire evening playing solitaire and making dog puns."
"i was filling my dad's basketballs for him for his next game, whilst simultaneously helping him rework his pick-up lines that he's going to use on rsa's 'hot librarian' — his words, not mine. it was... a weird experience."
"i was feeding my dad's cat a couple of days ago, but i guess i fed him too much, because he's just a ball with limbs now. it's fine, though — it's not like my dad actually goes anywhere. too old for that, y'know?")
ortho is up next. idia's already ortho's brother, so he can't really do anything with that, but he really wants in on the average teenage experience of pranking your peers. so he starts referring to literally every upperclassmen he knows as his "brother". this is when everyone starts to realize that something's wrong, because some of things ortho says can not apply to idia in any reality.
("my brother is so talented! he's so good at talking to people, and making them sign contracts with him, and convincing them to invest in his restaurant... gosh, i wish i could be as good at communicating as him!")
jack is, unsurprisingly, very unamused when he figures out what the others are doing, but he doesn't try to stop them. but after a few weeks of exposure, and jack starts unconsciously doing it, too, which the others don't point out to him because they think it's absolutely hilarious.
("my brother didn't show up to morning practice, again, so my other brother and i went lookin' for him, and we ended up findin' him in a tree. obviously, my brother and i can't climb as well as my eldest bro can, so my brother just... threw a spelldrive disk at him. to get him out of the tree. and then we had to rush him to the infirmary because now he had a concussion. i don't... i don't know why he thought that would work.")
sebek is the last hold-over. not only is he unamused by this prank — and frankly very aghast when he realizes that jack has also been infected by it — but he's also really repressed and will do literally whatever it takes to not sully his image in the eyes of diasomnia. of course, with enough wear and tear, this doesn't last very long.
("ugh. my brother fell asleep on the road AGAIN! i swear, so many people have tripped over him, i'll be surprised if he hasn't broken any ribs yet.")
ace and epel think all of this is extremely funny, so they all keep trucking along with it with nobody noticing for a couple of weeks. it's all fine and dandy until the first-years are out on the town during the weekend, and deuce gets involved in a really bad carriage crash.
at the hospital, deuce starts deliriously asking for his older brother to take him home. but when the receptionist checks his familial records, they're really confused because deuce never even had a brother.
unfortunately, ace knows exactly who deuce is talking about, and awkwardly spends the next 30 minutes trying to get a hold of riddle over the phone.
the awkwardness doesn't end as riddle actually gets to the hospital, and the doctor smiles and says, "you must be mr spade's big brother."
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chrisbesitos · 1 month
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chris accidentally reveals that they're expecting a baby on a twitch live.
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"Dude, I'm exhausted." Chris murmured grumpy. He and his brothers were in a Twitch live, even though it's only nine, he's already feeling tired.
"Then say goodnight everyone and go to sleep." Nick said scrolling on his phone.
"I wish, but Y/N is not home yet and I can't sleep without rubbing her pretty belly." Chris said without thinking, he forgot they were in a live and the viewers didn't know about Y/N's pregnancy.
"Chris!" Matt said hitting the back of Chris' head. Then he realized what he said, Chris immediately widened his eyes and his tiredness seems like disappear suddenly.
"Shit, I mean... I mean that I can't sleep without her, because... 'case she's my girlfriend and I love sleep cuddling her." He got lost in his words, Nick was hiding his face with his hands while he laughed about his brother's stupidity.
"Yeah, yeah. Move on." Matt said changing the subject, even though the viewers were asking in the comments section about this.
Eventually, they ended the Twitch live and Chris knew that he was fucked. Y/N would be mad at him for telling in live they're expecting, even though it's was an accident. Later she got home from work and she seems really, really mad.
"Oh man, you're dead." Matt said while he laughed and left for his room, Nick was already on his.
"Baby, you're home!" Chris said trying to change her mood, but she just looked at him with an angry look. Her eyes were so pretty, even when they seemed to catch fire. "I swear I didn't mean, I'm sorry, baby."
"I can't believe you did that, Chris!" Y/N said, she left her purse on the kitchen table and crossed her arms while Chris trie do hug her.
"Maybe they don't catch."
"Chris, they are already asking on my dm and on my comment section if I'm pregnant. Of course they catch." Y/N now seems more upset then angry, she sighed and pull the chair to seat. Chris started to massage his girlfriend's shoulders, knowing that she was needing that now.
"I'm really sorry, you know I didn't want to get you upset." Chris gave her a kiss on the forehead, slowly moving his hands from her shoulders to her belly. "I just love spending the night with my girls and it's really true that I can't sleep without rubbing your belly."
"I know, I just wasn't ready for a soft launch." Y/N relaxed a bit, letting her body being hugged by her boyfriend warm arms. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to overreact."
"No, no! It's my fault, not yours." Chris said. "I'm gonna run you a bath, seems good? Do you want me to order something for you? I'll do whatever you want."
Y/N just murmured softly, Chris always know how to make her feel better. And she knows he'll be a great father for their baby, even when he talks without thinking, he is still the best.
Lately that night, Chris posted a picture in his Instagram story, now with her consent. His head laying in her beautiful belly and her hand slowly massaging Chris' hair.
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hedgehog-moss · 4 months
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I volunteered to help the florist with her Mother's Day deliveries today, it was fun! My favourite parts of the experience:
early this morning I delivered flowers to women who were busy with morning farm chores, usually out in the barn; some had forgotten it was Mother's Day and were pleasantly surprised to see me show up holding a bunch of flowers above my head (so it wouldn't get eaten by barn animals on the way)
speaking of: one woman let a cow smell the flowers, then said "they're probably treated with chemicals—better not have a taste" with an apologetic look (at her cow)
a little boy opened the door at one point and I said, flowers for your mum! and he called her and while waiting for her to come downstairs, he said, "I learnt a Mother's Day poem at school", so I said, let's hear it! And apparently he hadn't expected that, and he lit up upon realising he would get higher returns on his poem investment than expected. He thought he'd recited it once and it was over but here was a fresh new audience!
a woman whom I found at the back of her garden hanging out with ducks deplored the fact that she didn't have a coin in her pocket for a tip, then said "Do you want to see my baby pigeons?" Yes of course I want to see your baby pigeons. That's a good tip
I delivered a bouquet to someone and a woman next door, who was in her garden, turned to the open window of her house and said, "[Neighbour's name] got flowers! For MOTHER'S DAY."
I later had to return to that street after a last-minute order was placed to this woman's address. Whomever she was talking to inside the house got the message loud and clear :)
at one point I entered a barn that seemed empty (except for cows), said "Is anyone here?" and a goat SPRUNG UP out of nowhere and poked me with her hoof and gave me a heart attack
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I returned to the shop and the florist let me pick a couple of plants as thanks, and we had the usual conversation—"Would this cheerful yellow plant thrive in my house?" "No. Your house is under 10°C. Try this one instead." Me: "This one isn't yellow :( It's more austere" Her: "So is your house" (She entered my non-heated kitchen in December once, and ever since I've been trying to convince her that it's not always like that) (just six months per year)
as I sat in the shop waiting for more bouquets to deliver, a man came in to buy roses and the florist started wrapping a ribbon around the bunch and the man asked, could you put a ribbon around each rose? I said aw they're for several mums? :) And he said yeah—that he was going to visit his mum at the retirement home and he wanted to get something "for all her friends too, why not!" It made everyone smile
admiring the florist's skill as she quickly put together a bouquet for a new order, I said something like "at least AI won't steal your job" and she said "with quantum computing, you don't know... not sure what it is but I read an article and it sounded scary." I said, I heard it's still impractical because the quantum computer particles need to be kept in very cold environments, like close to absolute zero, and she said "Quantum plants would thrive in your house."
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Florist: "I'll accompany you for this delivery because the person who filled the form gave a 'turn left after the third mossy rock'-type of address"
I was invited at her house for lunch, and I asked warily "Does your husband still have swans?" She said "No, we only kept the geese. We have just 3. They're evil too but not as bad as the swans"
one of my favourite interactions was when I delivered flowers in a hamlet that could fit in my pocket, and a young girl who came to the door asked me in what village I lived, and I said, it's not a village, just a lone house in the woods, and she sighed "I wish I could live away from civilisation." I looked around us. Asked, how many people live in this village? She said, "Sixty." I said, "That's too many?" She said, "Yeah."
Final stats for today: I was offered a coffee 4 times, Mother's Day chocolates 2 times, and 1 meeting with baby pigeons; was startled by 1 goat and terrorised by 3 geese; petted 2 windowsill cats, and was asked if Pampérigouste was currently in her pasture 4 times.
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nanaslutt · 10 months
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entering zenin clan as toji's little trophy wife
contains: fem reader, established relationship, age gap (not specified), misogyny, naoya needs his own warning, voyeurism, masturbation, choking, rough sex, riding, dirty talk, cumming inside (toji has a vacectomy), Toji is a good husband, praise
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Your large husband Toji stood in front of you, fastening the fabric around the kimono he had bought you for the special occasion. He himself was adorned in a dark blue kimono, the white fabric of the jupan peeking out from underneath the neckline of his kimono. He was wearing a pair of traditional setta sandals, you had never seen him look so formal and old-fashioned in your life.
"People really still wear this stuff?" You asked, watching him tie the light pink fabric in a bow that would rest on your hipline. Toji kept his eyes on his hands, working carefully, "You're making it too obvious you're not from a sorcerer family." He said, looking up under his dark eyelashes at you once he finished prettying you up. He took a step back, keeping his hands on your waist as he smoothed his hands down the sides of your hips, admiring his handiwork. A whistle from his lips made you blush, smiling up at the older man.
"Beautiful." He said, stepping up to you once again he pressed you against his chest, gripping his hands on the small of your waist he leaned down and kissed you softly, humming against your lips before pulling away. "Thank you Toji." You said, making the scar on his lip bend as a smirk graced his handsome features. "The geezers you're about to meet don't take kindly to.. women, they're old fashioned so do your best to stay close to me, not that I plan to leave you alone with them." Toji shivered internally thinking about what they would do to a pretty thing like you if he let you alone, not that he didn't have full faith in your skills, he knew you were strong, but he also knew how strong his family was.
"I figured out the old-fashioned part by the clothes, I guess misogyny just comes with that territory." You said lightly, making him huff out a laugh. "Don't take their words too seriously, especially Naoya, he respects me so It's hard to know if he'll say anything, but he's notorious for having a big fucking mouth." You watched Toji's expression while he spoke, a vein popping out under the skin of his forehead. "Especially with the women. I don't know if there's a single maid he hasn't harassed in some way or another." He said, growing irritated at the thought of him trying something with his wife.
"I can take it." You said, the soft touch of your fingers tracing Toji's cheek snapping him out of his annoying daydream, bringing him back to reality, his eyes shutting as he sighed, leaning into your touch. "We're just there for me to introduce myself, then we never have to see them again, right?" You asked, smiling when he cracked open his eyes and nodded at you. "What's the worst that can happen in a couple hours?" You spoke reassuringly. "You don't know my family." He sighed, covering your hand with his, pressing it harder agaisnt his face. "I wish I didn't either." His animosity made you smirk, he was working himself up too much.
"How did they even find out we got married?" You asked, Toji's hand dropping from your own as he stepped away to grab his phone on the table behind him and call for a ride. "Who fucking knows, they're so creepy they probably know your blood type and the time you were born by now." He mumbled, holding his phone up to his ear as it rang, reaching one of the drivers for the Zenin clan. You came up behind him, running your hands up his back, relishing in the feeling of the soft fabric of his kimono, before reaching his shoulders and massaging his shoulder gently as he spoke curtly to the man on the other side of the phone.
The two of you stepped out of the car, Toji first, taking your hand in his as you slid out after him, thanking the driver before you interlaced your arm in his. You were greeted by a kind-looking maid, she looked to be about ten years older than Toji, she bowed when the two of you approached. "Right this way Zenin." She said, glancing at the two of you before she raised her tired body and started a trail into the main building of the Zenin house. Toji cringed at the use of his last name, you felt his bicep tense when she uttered the word. You looked up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw flex as he repeatedly clenched his teeth together.
"I should be the one nervous." You whispered, receiving a glance from your husband, the shadow of a smile gracing his lips before he averted his gaze back in front of him, his eyes darting around to the familiar walls of his miserable childhood. "Being here makes me feel sick is all." He said. You absorbed his words, nodding to yourself as you looked forward, watching the fabric of the older woman's kimono crinkle on her back as she walked.
Toji had told you about his childhood before, but only the once; it was a sore subject after all. You knew it was a very toxic and abusive environment to grow up in, especially for Toji, as he was one to form his own opinions and morals, not letting anyone other than himself influence that; which his family did not appreciate in the slightest. "Here you are, please enter at your own pace." The woman spoke, looking Toji directly in the eyes and squinting before she bowed and walked away, following the hallway back the way you had just come down, presumably to complete some mundane task.
"She knows you, huh?" You asked, squeezing your arm tightly against his as the two of you stood feet from the massive sliding wooden doors that separated you from the main room, where his family was currently residing; chatter and laughter could be heard muffled through the thick wood. "That old dinosaur." Toji laughed quietly. "She was in charge of my main academic classes, would smack my hands with a ruler when I got an answer wrong, shit hurt." He said, you watched him smile, recalling the memory.
"And you're smiling?" You said, tilting your head confused. "Old hag was the only one who actually looked out for me in this hell hole." He said, shaking away the memory before looking down at you. "You ready sweetheart?" Toji asked, staring into your eyes fondly. When you nodded he leaned forward, pressing his plush lips to the top of your head before pulling back and taking a step forward, slipping his fingers into the inverted door handle he slid the door open, the loud grating of the wood announcing your arrival.
Immediately all chatter in the room stopped and all eyes were on you, not Toji, you. The aura in the room was suffocating, only a couple seconds in the presence of these men, and you had understood why Toji was acting so uncomfortable. They were strong, incredibly so, you could feel it. A man with long dark shaggy hair leaned back on the couch, his legs spread as he caressed his chin looking you up and down. You felt shivers crawl down your spine from his perverted gaze alone; his aura wasn't as strong as the others.
Continuing your scan around the room, your eyes landed on a younger-looking man with blonde- almost green hair, a brown halo of hair around his head, he gave you an incredulous look, man spread on the couch much like the last man, he had his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze focused on your chest, thankfully covered by the Kimono; and yet you still felt so exposed under his gaze.
Some other unmemorable men were scattered in the room, an old man with a high ponytail, a teen with short spiky hair, and a handful of longer hair wrapped in bandages behind his neck. One man stood out from the rest though, in terms of the sheer cursed energy radiating off of him, making you shiver, every hair on your body standing at attention. A silver-haired man, twice Toji's age, sat on the floor on a fancy-looking pillow in the center of the room, a half-empty whiskey bottle in his hand, his lips dripping the liquid. The man burped vulgarly, making you suppress a wince at the shameless action.
As much as his face alone looked perfect for the bottom of your foot, you knew this was a man who was absolutely not to be messed with. You guessed this was Nobito, Toji's uncle. "Toji tightened his arm around yours, keeping his gaze in front of him as you looked up through your lashes at him; he could feel your anxiety and was trying to silently tell you he was right there. Nobito laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he raised to his feet, taking long strides toward you and your husband.
He stopped in front of you, ignoring Toji's presence completely. "Bagged a cute little woman, Toji." He laughed, looking at you when he spoke. You maintained composure, keeping eye contact with the wrinkled man in front of you, his breath reeked of alcohol. "Too bad she doesn't know her place." A voice interrupted. Toji's eyes looked to the voice, his face staying unexpressed, making eye contact with the source of the noise, Naoya. "Who does she think she is? Dumb woman doesn't know she should walk behind a man?" He said, scoffing, a look of disgust plastered on his face.
"When you get a wife, feel free to treat her however you like," Toji responded, deadpanning. "Insult my wife again, I'll cut out your tongue." Toji's deep asserting voice made you shiver, a heat creeping over your face at how he had defended you without a second thought. Naoya presented a toothy grin to Toji, a vein in his forehead popping out in annoyance. Suddenly it was too hard to breathe. "Now now, ten years of radio silence from you, and this is how you want our reunion to start?" Nobito tsked, keeping his face in front of yours but darting his eyes to meet Toji's.
"Nice to meet you, sir." You said, bowing respectfully, looking up at the old man under your lashes. He smiled, taking a couple steps back from you. "She's polite~" Another voice resounded through the room- the teen with the rat tail had spoken. "At least she can do something right," Naoya mumbled under his breath, the bitter words not being missed by Toji. You quickly reacted, squeezing your fingers into his arm to warn him not to do anything stupid. His nostrils flared on his otherwise blank face, his chest rising in a deep breath before leveling out again.
Nobito walked back to his seat and picked up the bottle of whiskey, grabbing a glass from the table in front of him he poured a generous amount before sitting and pushing the drink in your direction on the table. All their eyes were on the two of you, waiting for you to sit. Usually, you would sit down first, Toji making sure you were comfortable before sitting down next to you. In this setting, however, you weren't sure this was the best idea.
Unlacing your arm with his, you gestured towards the table with your hands before holding them in front of you, looking up at Toji. He paused, looking down at you before he started for the couch, you followed hot on his trail. Naoya smiled at this, not being able to shake the feeling that he had some influence on your actions. Toji held his hand out for you before you sat down. Placing your hand in his larger one, you sat next to him, your thighs touching with the proximity. He continued to hold your hand, placing tangled hands on your thigh as he gripped his over yours, enveloping it completely.
You pressed your knees together tightly, not wanting to reveal even a centimeter of your skin to the men around you if you could help it. Toji picked up the glass in front of him, bringing the caramel-colored liquid up to his lips before he was stopped by a hand grabbing his wrist. The shaggy-haired man had grabbed Toji, tsking, "Thats for your pretty little wife." He smiled maliciously, Nobito grinned, watching the interaction. "She doesn't drink." Toji was quick to retort, pushing though the grip on his wrist he tipped the glass into his lips, tasting the bitter liquid on his tongue before swallowing.
"You keepin' her pure?" Naoya's grating voice once again spoke. Toji was right, the man constantly had something to say, and none of it was good. "She even old enough to drink? Fuck, did you snatch up a young one?" He laughed, the sound making you cringe. "I can drink, I just choose not to." You responded, making the blonde-haired man's smile immediately flush off of his face as his gaze dropped to yours. "Why is your wife speaking right now?" He asked, the question directed at Toji, but his eyes were on yours.
"Only speak when you're being spoken to, and even then, make sure what you have to say is meaningful," Naoya instructed. You looked visibly taken aback. Oh he wanted to die huh?Toji thought, the vein in his forehead showing itself from under the skin. He swore he was going to come back here and strangle the man to death in his sleep, and he would enjoy every last second of it. Who the fuck was he to speak to you like that?
“I don’t tell her what to do, and you sure as hell won’t as long as I live either.” Toji growled, his grip tightening against your thigh. "Naoya." Another voice cut in before things could escalate. The man with the ponytail prevented Naoya from digging his grave deeper. Toji's eyes were glued to his younger cousins, his heartbeat racing in his chest as he tried to calm himself down.
You had no idea how much self-restraint Toji really had. Whenever a man even looked in your general direction you had to physically pull him back on his metaphorical leash so he didn't kill him on the street. He took a large gulp of the liquid once more, he couldn't tell if the bitterness was easing the angst he was feeling or increasing it. Naoya lost the glaring battle with Toji, scoffing as he looked away. "How old are you, Naoya?" Toji spoke, holding the glass of half-empty liquor on his thigh, spreading his legs. "Twenty-six." He replied.
Toji laughed curtly, raising his eyebrows before he released your hand and wrapped his arm around the back of the couch. "Don't you think It's time you find a wife? Or you been havin' some trouble findin' a woman who you don't have to beat to act like your dog?" Toji spat, making the younger man fume across the room. A snicker could be heard from the teenager to your left. You had to fight back your own smile, you're pretty sure you would get smacked upside the head by Naoya himself if you did.
“How did the two of you meet, dollface?” The man with the dark shaggy hair questioned you. Toji could obviously see you looked visibly uncomfortable at the nickname the man had used, squirming in your seat before your opened your mouth to speak, “Me and Dollface met through a mutual friend.” Toji interrupted, making the weight on your shoulders lift and dissipate into the air.
“Your friend know anymore cute young things like your wife here?” The man spoke again, directing his question to Toji but looking at the expanse of your covered body, they all did that and you hated it. “None that would be interested in an old pervert like you.” Toji responded, trying his best to laugh through the situation so his fist didn’t end up through someone’s stomach by the end of this.
"So, do you come from a sorcerer family?" Nobito interjected, taking a swig from the whiskey bottle. The questions never seemed to stop coming from every direction in the room. "No sir, I'm the only sorcerer in my family." You responded a couple chuckles could be heard throughout the room at your response. Naoya almost burst a blood vessel keeping what he really wanted to say at bay. Sure, you had a nice figure, and a pretty little face to match—but you were arrogant and had too much of your own personality. Naoya had an an inkling your relationship wasn’t as traditional as you were playing it out to be.
Toji deserved to be with someone who listened to him, who didn’t speak out of turn, who could actually walk behind a man. You must’ve been good in bed for Toji to have put a ring on your finger with all those flaws, he presumed.
"She's a first-grade sorcerer before you open your pathetic mouths again." Toji defended. You pressed your thighs together. He was so stoic and serious, it aroused you to no end, and the way he wasn't afraid to show you off, fuck it was doing things to you. Some “Ooh’s~” echoed through the room.
"Pretty and useful." The old man with the ponytail spoke. You averted your gaze to some corner of the room when you saw some nods throughout the room. "She cooks and cleans too?" Someone teased, creating more chuckles to emanate throughout the room. Toji clenched his jaw in annoyance. If his family knew that he did most of the cooking, he was sure at least 5 of them would have an aneurysm in this very room. At least he could be left alone without fear of starvation while he doubted these grown men knew how to cook something as simple as rice.
"When are you having a child? She doesn't look pregnant now." Naoya blurted out confused, his words indicating that the only thing a wife was good for was having children. You couldn't help but feel too aware of your own body at his words, realizing you could actually be perceived, and were actively being so in this moment. You kept quiet, looking up at Toji, waiting for his answer to come. Truthfully, you wanted kids with him at some point, but you were still so young. The two of you had talked about it briefly, at decided you would revisit the topic in a few years.
Toji brought his hand to wrap around the back of your shoulders, rubbing the skin there before he spoke. "She's too young to have kids now, maybe a few years," Toji answered curtly. Naoya looked flabbergasted, leaning forward on his elbows he spoke exasperatedly, "What? Nonsense, there's no such thing as too young to have kids-" barf. "Her eggs are going to be dried up in a couple years." His lackluster knowledge of a woman's body amused you, once again suppressing a laugh as you pretended to scratch the tip of your nose, hiding your mouth from view.
Toji picked up on your amusement, smiling before he spoke. "What would you know about a woman's body?" He challenged, sliding his hand across your shoulders to drop back down to your thigh, squeezing the fat through the fabric, making you feel a heat between your thighs. Naoya's lip curled up in annoyance, keeping his eyes on Toji's. "Let's take a break, yeah?" Nobito spoke, his voice coming out slurred. "We have a room for the two of you, dinner will be ready soon, we can catch and learn more about your little wife more then, hm?" he said, the words phrased as a suggestion but you knew it wasn't that.
"After you baby," Toji said, nodding his head at you. You smoothed your hands over your thighs as you stood, standing, you bowed before the men as Toji stood with you. "Nice to meet.. most of you." You said, licking your lips to conceal your grin as you started for the door. Toji smirked, making eye contact with Naoya's obviously irritated face before he wrapped his arm around your waist, his hand resting right above your ass as he let you out of the room, sliding the door shut behind the two of you.
"Well, that sure went!" you said, looking up at him and smiling through a cringe, making him laugh at your unfinished sentence, he knew exactly what you meant. "What you said at the end got me all worked up," Toji said, grabbing a handful of your ass as he started walking toward his old bedroom. "Huh?" You asked, confused. "No one talks back to that shitty guy, shoulda seen his face when you said that shit." Toji laughed. You caught on, realizing he was referring to your indirect jab at the blond-haired man before you left.
"Didn't realize bullying your family was one of your kinks." You teased, stopping in front of the doorway when Toji slid the door to his room open, holding his arm out atop the frame for you to go under. "You kiddin? Think it's higher up than my love for titty-fucking'" Toji teased, grabbing your hips as he followed you into the room. He shut the door with one hand behind him, before pulling you against his chest and pressing his lips to yours. "Sorry about those fuckin' assholes." Toji apologized, kissing the corner of your eye.
"It's not you who should be apologizing." You giggled, holding his face in your hands. "Plus, the way you were standing me up for me in there got me all wet." You leaned and whispered against his lips. "Yeah?" His deep voice whispered back, his breath tickling your lips as he hovered his mouth an arm hairs length away from yours. "Wanna see for yourself?" You asked, dropping one of your hands from his face to grab his wrist and bring it between the slit of your Kimono, under the jupan, so his large fingers were directly touching your damp panties. “Wanna hear how loud you can be for me, show these old fucks how good you take my dick.” Toji whispered, finally closing the distance and pressing your lips together.
In the other room, the men had not yet dispersed. Talking amongst themselves, they still collectively hung around in the main room. "She's a bold woman I'll give her that." The old man with the ponytail spoke with his arms crossed over his chest. Naoya fumed in his seat, his nose crinkling in disgust as he replayed your words over in his head. "Nice to meet... some of you." the fucking audacity. He was the heir to the Zenin clan, did you not know that? Talking to him like he's some trash, dumb woman.
"The only thing good about that noisy woman is her ass, what the hell does Toji see in her?" Naoya spoke, making Nobito laugh as he took another swig from the whiskey bottle, holding it by the neck. "She has a nice face, and she's undoubtedly strong if even Toji was willing to praise her like that in front of Nobito." The teen said, shrugging his shoulders. Naoya tsked, crossing his arms over one another, staring at some corner of the room angrily.
The locker room talk about your body and other discussions about you and Toji continued for a couple minutes before their talk was interrupted by a loud sound shrieking through the walls. The men raised their eyebrows, stopping all conversation as they waited to hear the sound again. "Agh!!" There it was again, the loud sound being muffled by the walls that separated them from the source. "The hell is that?" Naoya spoke first, his voice cutting into the otherwise silent room.
"Shh." Nobito hushed, setting the bottle down he scanned his eyes around the walls, waiting to see where the sound was coming from. "Ah-ah-ah!" He tilted his ear towards the direction of the sound when the moans came more steadily, his head tipping in the direction of where you and Toji were staying. Naoya was growing frustrated, already annoyed that his dad had hushed him in front of everyone. "Toji- Fuck-" That was all they needed to hear. Nobito let out a hearty laugh, as he raised to his feet, whiskey bottle in hand as he started for the sliding door that would take him to the garden.
Naoya's face was plastered with a blush, did you just-? "Fucking under Nobito's roof after being absent for a decade, heh~" The shaggy-haired man laughed. "He's marking his territory, bastard," Nobito spoke before sliding the door shut behind him, lounging on the edge of the deck. He thought you were eye candy, sure, but he didn't want to hear his nephew fucking his wife in front of him, he would rather be the one doing the fucking.
Toji's growls could be heard through the walls as he fucked into you, the sound of an old bed creaking through the walls was not missed by Naoya's ears. "Even her voice is cute." One of the men spoke. Naoya couldn't take this torture anymore, with his face completely flushed, he rose to his feet, walking quickly out of the room. "It's disgusting." Naoya spit, sliding the big wooden door loudly behind him.
Some maids were in the hallway gossiping when he exited. Giggling and covering their faces as they listened to Toji absolutely ruin your shit. His face burning hot as he leaned against the door, he glanced up at the women, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Get back to work." Naoya hissed, the woman immediately dispursing to finish their chores. He sighed when they were out of sight, finally looking down at his Kimono, he noticed a tent had formed at his crotch, he looked at it in disgust, scrunching his face up as he made quick work to his room, which coincidentally neighbored Toji's.
--
"You like that baby? Like when I fuck your tight little cunt like this? Toji groaned, gripping your hips as he brought your ass back to meet his thrusts, fucking his cock into your g-spot with pinpoint precision. "Y-yes Toji- Love it- love it so much!" You groaned. He had you face down, ass up, and his hips were being so fucking mean. Mercilessly he pulled his cock almost completely out, before bulling the entirety of his girth into your tight pussy, loud squelches filling the room at how wet you were.
"Yeah you do, take my cock-" thrust "so" thrust "fucking" thrust "well-!" He grit through his teeth, his hips colliding with your ass and making the fat ripple. He had only pushed your kimono up, revealing your pussy to him, he himself had only pulled his cock out through the slit, making it easier for him to get inside you faster after he briefly stretched you out on his fingers. "You're so pretty baby, fuck- such a good fucking wife-" He groaned, making a point to say that last part extra loud.
He didn't feel like he had anything to prove to his family, he knew how good you were to him, and how in love the two of you were. He just wanted to make them jealous, they were all old, ugly, and wifeless or had shells of women on their arms after all. He saw how they looked at you, how they tried to look through your Kimono and get even a sliver of skin to feast their eyes upon. He wanted them to know they would never, in a million years, get the chance, so here he was, fucking his lively young wife, bubbly and full of personality, in their prison of a home.
"Wanna ride me, baby? Let em' hear how good you fuck me?" He asked, not letting up his assault on your pussy. You drooled and whined into the sheets, gripping your nails into the expensive cloth as your body jerked and slid across the sheets from his manhandling. Riding Toji was a rare feat, it got him so worked up. The angle at which your pussy sucked in his cock, how deep he got, always made him relinquish control unconsciously, which is why it was so rare he let you ride him.
You nodded into the sheets, your words getting slurred together when you mumbled out "yesyesyes" while he fucked you. Toji laughed, pulling out his cock he continued to jerk it slowly, spreading your juiced all over him before he plopped on the bed next to you, holding your outer hip to pull you towards him as he got comfortable against the sheets. With shaky legs, you slung them over Toji's hips, watching him still jerk his cock in his large hand as you situated your pussy to hover right over his fat tip.
"Sit down baby, fuck me." He said the smile your husband had on his face being controlled by lust and love together. His eyes immediately rolled to the back of his head when you sat down on his cock, his abs clenching and legs twitching as you eased his length into you. "Fuuuuck, that's good~" He groned, tipping his head back into the pillows as your pussy swallowed up his cock to the hilt. He could feel every bump and ridge of your cock, your warmth, how fucking tight you were in this position--he already felt himself going dumb.
"Fuck me baby, bounce on my fucking cock-" Toji begged, his hands coming to grip your hips and aid you the best he could in lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down on it. "God~ Toji, you're f-filling me up!" You whined, starting a quick pace on him, pressing your hands against his pecs for stability as you gound your clit against his pelvis every time his cock bottomed out inside you. Toji had his eyebrows scrunched together, his jaw dropped open as he moaned freely into the room, his moans overshadowing yours.
"Y-yeah? Feel my b-big cock fuckin' up 'ur guts?" Toji laughed through a deep whine, trying to watch his length disappear into your pussy when you sat down on it, but he was having a hard time keeping his eyes forward in their sockets. "Yes, Toji- fuck!" You cried out when one of his hands came down to rub his thumb against your clit. The added stimulation made you ride him harder as you chased your orgasm. He loved touching your clit not only because it made you feel good and he loved seeing your reactions to it, but also because your pussy tightened up like it was trying to constrict his cock when he did so.
His body jerked forward every time his dick slid inside you, his deep voice laughing through his arousal when you stopped your bouncing and instead ground against him. The movements made his cock rub against your sweet spot deep inside you. He watched your head tip back as your nails dug into his chest at how good you were feeling. "Choke me baby, cmon~" Toji begged quietly into the air, needing to feel your smaller hand squeeze around his neck when you came.
One of your hands slid up the expanse of his chest, traveling over the fabric of the Kimono as you splayed your fingers out along his neck, giving him a squeeze. The smirk on his face grew tenfold, a dopey grin spreading across his features. "Yesyesyes baby- yesss-" His words were slurred, his eyes rolling back every time his cock was forced against your walls from your incessant humping along his pelvis.
"Baby I'm gonna cum-" You spoke breathlessly, squeezing your hand tighter around his throat as you were brought closer and closer to your high. Toji was getting dizzy, not just from you choking him out, but from watching you shut your eyes and hump yourself on his dick, getting yourself off on him like he was some sex toy--and he fucking loved it. "Yeah- use me baby, use me, cum all over my dick baby please~" He groaned, his jaw falling open and closed like a fish out of water, his eyebrows scrunching shut as he watched your orgasm crash over you.
Your hand around his neck loosened when you came, your orgasm wracking through your body as you jerked and twitched on top of him, your hips losing their rhythm. That was Toji's sign to take over. He abandoned his thumb on your clit and brought his hand back up to join the other in grabbing your waist. He planted his feet on the bed and started pistoning his hips against your ass like a madman. He fucked you through your orgasm and into overstimulation as he brought himself to his own high.
He watched you grit your teeth and squeeze your eyebrows together, pushing through the painful pleasure. "Almost there baby- doin' so good letting me use you like this- fuck-" He praised, shaking his head agaisnt the sheets as he watched your body bounce limply on top of him. Toji was too fucked out to announce before he came, but you knew. His hips lost their rhythm, his voice got higher and higher in pitch before he stilled his hips against your ass.
He groaned hard as he felt the first ropes of his cum shoot inside your pussy. He shot his body up and wrapped his arms around your torso, hiding his face in your neck as he bit down hard against the skin there, letting your cunt milk his balls as his hips stuttered agaisnt you, his cock releasing all of his seed as deep as he could into you. "Fuuuck-" He groaned against your skin when he started coming down from his high.
You pulled your head back, grabbing his face between your hands you pressed your lips to his, breathing heavily against his lips as the two of you kissed passionately. You pulled away, smiling at his flushed face, "Probably sounded like we just made a baby." you giggled, wiping the sweaty strands of his hair from his forehead. "If they ever find out I got a vasectomy, they might have a heart attack," Toji smirked, making you giggle as he peppered kisses on your face. "So maybe we should." He added, dropping his kisses to your neck as the two of you embraced each other, his softening cock still snug in your walls.
In the room over, a fuming Naoya sat on the edge of his bed, his jerking slowing over his softening cock, covered in his own cum as he tried to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Fucking... bitch.." He whispered into the room, covering his ashamed face with the back of his arm as he flopped back agaisnt his sheets.
The two of you spent another hour cleaning up and enjoying each other's company as you sat outside of Toji's room, your back against the wall of the sliding glass door, Toji sitting in front of you, your clothed feet in his hands as he massaged them softly, listening to you speak. "You ready to leave, princess?" He asked when the conversation died down. You sighed, "I wish your family weren't such assholes, food always tastes better when it's free." Your husband gigged as you retracted your legs, pulling on your sandals as the two of you stood to your feet.
"I'll take you out tonight, you look so pretty in this after all, it would be a waste to not enjoy you out like this," Toji said, walking up to you and holding your waist in his hands as he gave you a one-over. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before the two of you made your way back inside to say your goodbyes to the men of the household.
Entering the same room you met them all in before, they were all in their respective places, even Naoya. They all looked over at the two of you as the doorway slid open, Toji's hand on your waist. "We won't be staying for dinner, it's been awful, as always," Toji smirked, looking around the room but spending a little extra time on Nobito and Naoya. You smiled in faux politeness, the bright red bite mark on your next standing out like a sore thumb when you tipped your head to the side. "You think you can just use my home as some sex hotel, and leave?" Nobito asked incredulously, raising en eyebrow at Toji before taking a large swig of the alcohol. You silently prayed he would die in this moment of alcohol poisoning.
Naoya's face was bright red as he stared at the pair of you in disgust, his observant eyes picking up the bruises across Toji's neck from you stranging him in bed. "Watch us." You replied, which made a proud Toji Zenin look down at you and smile. The two of you backed up and shut the door behind you, leaving quickly without another word.
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