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#well perhaps you could tell me while we dance
lydiablackblade · 8 months
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I can dim the lights and sing you songs, full of sad things. We can do the tango, just for two. (Queen - Good old-fashioned lover boy)
Once between 1920-1955, on a hot, steamy night in Buenos Aires, Crowley taught Aziraphale how to do tango.
Just follow my lead, Angel.
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Fantastic video, the atmosphere and technical skills of dancers are perfect. I love how they are switching the roles who's leading and who's following. So respectful, passionate and sensual.
Also, someone about write this fanfic? Please send me link. I'd really love to read it. They are in my mind dancing like this rent free, forever.
Oh god, how much I miss dancing....
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babysgarage · 9 months
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the wildest part of a ship going canon to me is always the revelation that i'm not the only one daydreaming about these idiots getting together, these idiots were also daydreaming about these idiots getting together
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gowhilewedance · 6 months
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"Well perhaps you could tell me...while we dance."
701 frames, 542 artists, 3 months, all collaborating on 1 animation. Here is the result.
@neil-gaiman @goodomensonprime
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slttygeto · 11 months
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MORNING LOVE — GOJO SATORU
content warning: pwp, pussy whipped gojo is my favorite gojo, sex in the kitchen, very light spanking, dirty talk, hint of cnc.
word count: 0,6k
note: this is a follow up to this piece right here. i hope you enjoy it :)!
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if there was anything you learned from dating satoru, it was the fact that he was all about touching you. whether it be a hand resting on your thigh, or his lips pressed to your cheek as he drills into you from behind--the man couldn’t get enough of you.
you tried to stop him, tried your best to tell him to wait at least until you were done with breakfast before touching you. but the man was on a mission the moment he saw you dancing in his shirt in the kitchen. and you dare ask him to wait?
“toru--the pancakes,” you cry out the last part, his big hand reaching over to fondle with your boobs. he was incredibly touchy, always all over you like you could escape at any moment (you obviously couldn’t with his massive weight on top of you). 
you feel a little guilty to be doing this in the kitchen and over your counter, but his cock was drilling into you so well. you didn’t know why you were so sensitive this morning, perhaps you were ovulating and so your body felt like putty the moment satoru put his hands on you. 
he didn’t even bother taking off your shirt, simply pushed it up and let out a ‘fuck’ at the sight of your ass. this made you push back on him, whining when he delivered a harsh smack to the skin.
“later baby--fuck, I promise.” he was out of breath, hands roughly grabbing your hips to keep you in place. he loved having this much control over you, to see you trying to run away from his cock. only for him to hold you in place and force you to take it, force delicious sounds out of your throat. 
he grins lazily when you try to look back at him and your eyes are glossed over, lips parted and face contorted in pleasure. you look like you’re trying to say something, but the pleasure consuming you wiped every coherent thought out of your head.
“oh baby, you’re so pretty,” he leans down and presses a kiss to the back of your ear, chuckling when your breath stuttered. you were always so weak, so easily breakable when he had his dick inside of you. 
“oh god--satoru!” you cry out when his hand travels down, rubbing at your clit all while his other hand lets go of your hip to press on your stomach. his pace is unforgiving, a string of curses leaves his mouth when he feels you clenching around him as you approach your orgasm.
“that’s it baby, come on, come on,” he hisses out, his chin resting on your shoulder to peek at your face. he especially loved how fucked out you looked when you coated his dick with your juices.
“that’s right, give it to me. all of it, I can take it. take all what your pussy gives me--shiit, you feel so good,” it’s his turn to whine, his forehead resting on your shoulder when you finally reach your orgasm. your pussy felt like heaven, it was a miracle that he held in for so long. 
his orgasm washes over him soon after yours, and you’re both left a heaving mess. satoru refuses to pull out even when you whine at him to do so, only presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder and hums.
“if I pull out, it will be a mess,”
“then what should we do?”
“the paper towels are right there, lemme grab some.”
“...you’re unbelievable.”
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2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.
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trappolia · 22 days
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SUNDAY IS FOR REST ── sunday x halovian!reader, 918
"do be careful, my dove," he murmurs as you straighten out the light feathers behind his ear.
"you haven't preened yourself in a while, have you?" your voice is soft, a hint of chiding to it that makes his heart flutter — there's a groggy rasp to your tone as well, having just stirred from your own dreams. sunday dares not look back at you, for there is a sweet domesticity to be found in the impression of rumpled bedsheets against your cheek and the heavy-lidded eyelids that make it known that you would love nothing more than to go back to sleep — proper sleep.
a hum resonates in sunday's chest as he allows himself to be fully immersed in the moment; early morning, messy hair and feathers, the sleepy press of lip against lip. his head tilts to the side, allowing greater access for you to tidy the feathers in question.
"you are correct. there's no need for me to do such preening in the dreamscape, though i prefer it when you offer your generous help," he replies, a mix of contentment and fondness pervading his voice.
"i'll help you only if you stay still," you grumble. your hands, which were straightening out his feathers, are now hovering just above them as sunday tries very hard not to shift in place again.
he cannot help it, truly. it is not just the factor that sunday is unused to, well, anyone touching something as intimate as his halovian wings, but also the fact that the slightest brush of your skin against his is a sensation like no other.
not that he would ever tell you, of course.
sunday nods, a silent affirmation that he will try his best to remain still, although a trace of a smile dances upon his lips. as you resume tending to his wings, each brush of your fingers brings a newfound appreciation for the sensation of your touch. he can feel the slight tingle, akin to electricity, every time your skin makes contact with his wings.
"my apologies," he murmurs, a chuckle slipping past his lips — as if he is not willing his chest to rise and fall rhythmically, having to manually breathe under your intimate ministrations. "i shall endeavour my utmost to be an inanimate statue. your wish is my command."
"haha," you say dryly.
in spite of your tone, sunday cannot help but chuckle at your jest. a cruel man he is, to find amusement in your grumpiness in the early morn. your nimble fingers gently untangle his feathers, and the sensation is a mix of tingles and warmth that spread across his wings. the act of having someone, especially someone he holds in such high esteem, tend to these parts of him that are reserved for only the most intimate moments is endearing, to say the least.
as you work, your movements deliberate and precise, your lover muses softly, "only you could make tending to feathers feel like a luxury."
"it is a luxury when you are not the one doing it yourself," you huff, hands moving around with practiced ease: smoothing a feather here, tugging a broken one out there.
sunday's chest rumbles with barely suppressed laughter at your huff of annoyance, but he remains true to his word and does all he can to keep still. his skin feels electrified with each brush of your touch, even more potent than before, and he wonders idly if it's because he's aware of how much effort you're taking in taking care of him. he is always the one caring and fussing, rather than being cared for and fussed over. it is strange, for the tables to be turnt. strange, had it been anyone else but you.
"perhaps," he manages to say between bouts of laughter, reaching back to catch one of your wrists and presses a chaste kiss upon it. "we could make a habit of this."
"is it truly proper of the head of the oak family to make a habit of keeping himself less than pristine?" you murmur.
how embarrassing; the passing thought occurs to sunday at your words. indeed, it is unbecoming for him, who stands at a position of such power and authority, to be so unkempt, so careless around you. it feels… freeing.
and so his response is a gentle tug upon your wrist, guiding your arms to wrap around his shoulders and link with his fingers. with a smile full of affection and a touch of teasing, he gently brushes his thumb over the tender flesh between your thumb and forefinger.
"i am simply indulging in the pleasure of being cared for," he answers in that same gentle rumble. "and if that means i am a tad bit less than pristine as a result, so be it."
"i suppose so," you hum, and from where sunday sits in between your legs, he feels you lean forward, hooking your chin over his shoulder. your own wings tickle his cheek, like a lover's kiss in the early morning. "preen me next?"
a low rumble resonates somewhere deep in his chest at the feeling of your breath against his neck. the closeness you've allowed between you is not something sunday takes lightly, and he relishes in it with every beat of his heart.
"with pleasure," he answers, unable to help the upwards tug of his lips as he squeezes your palms.
"let me take care of you, my dove — as you do to me."
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© trappolia 2024
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pireneee · 9 months
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“Well perhaps you could tell me while we dance?”
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zhongrin · 2 months
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honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?
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© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
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✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff
✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked
ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
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zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.
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al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”
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wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”
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neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.
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childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?
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kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”
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diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”
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tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”
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✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈
@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths
@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader
@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie
@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone
@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee
@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc
@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer
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rangerfromstarship · 10 months
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Ok we have to talk about s2 moments that make me love Aziraphale even more
- pretending to be a journalist and just like. being as adorable and pure and kind of dumb as Muriel pretending to be a police officer
- going against Heaven to protect Job's children! He questioned Heaven twice, then tried to protect them from Crowley and then actually lied to the archangels to save them. HE WAS WILLING TO FALL FOR IT
- him actually grieving and hugging that jar with the tumour after the ressurectionist told him it was from a seven year old
- "you don't seem his type at all" *eyebrow raise*
- giving away his books! his books!!!!! to help Maggie and Nina
- "Smitten, I believe" *looks smittenly at Crowley*
- "You're being silly!" *adorably soft and tender*
- "well perhaps you could tell me...while we dance" AND HIS HAPPY FACE AND GRABBING CROWLEY BY THE HAND TO DANCE
- "You came to me. I said I would protect you and I will" he is an Angel of his word and even if he doesn't like Gabriel he will protect him! bc he promised it! we support a responsible, empathetic and caring being
- being shocked and putting a hand on Crowley's shoulder when they see Gabriel and Beelzebub together like "oh my, are you seeing what I'm seeing"
- THE SOFT LOOK TO CROWLEY - I MEAN I can't deal with it I can't watch this scene without tearing up (after Gabriel and Beelzebub vanish)
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azfellschild · 6 months
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i cant believe after 3 months i can finally share my piece omg !!!!! 🫶🏼
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thank you so much to the admins for making this project possible, its been such a delight to work alongside so many wonderful artists ily all🫂 @gowhilewedance
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cosmicbucky · 9 months
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daisies and dances lead to heartfelt romances
summary: you offer to take bucky out a few times so he can practice what it's like to date in the modern world. unbeknownst to each other, both your offer and his acceptance have an ulterior motive
pairing: bucky barnes x female reader
word count: 3845
part: one
warnings: minor swearing, fluff, tony is a dick with a hidden agenda, some angst, soft/shy/grumpy bucky, pet names/nicknames, unknown but mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, sad bucky, mentions of bucky's struggles
a/n: this is planned to be at least two parts, maybe three.
big thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for encouraging and supporting me with this!!
《《《《 ♡ 》》》》
The compound was quiet, softly lit to guide your way to the kitchen. It was late in the night, but not too late that everyone was asleep. Your socked feet were silent on the cold floor, and as you made your way to the fridge you heard laughter coming from the main entertainment room. You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a bottle of juice, focusing in on the conversation being held.
"Come on man! You can't be serious," you heard Sam say, laughter clear in his voice.
"Just drop it, Sam," Bucky replied, warning clear in his voice.
The smile slipped from your face as you closed the fridge with a sigh. You knew that tone. It wasn't Bucky's patented 'my god these people are so annoying' tone. It was his 'the next person who says something is getting thrown into a wall' tone. Which meant he was actually upset over whatever the conversation was about. It was rare for him to really get worked up beyond his usual moody demeanor, and you couldn't help the worry that surged through you.
"Oh, no. No, no this is way too good to drop, Barnes," Tony chimed in with a laugh. You could just picture the smirk on his face, and your feet moved quickly to carry yourself towards the conversation.
Bucky noticed you approach from where he sat, and he sent you a pleading look. Please help me, his eyes screamed.
"Don't tell me you guys are picking on Bucky again," you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the wall.
"You mean grumpy mcgee over here? You bet your ass we are," Tony replied happily.
You sighed, rolling your eyes at him. "Why now?"
"This dude can't date to save his life!" Sam spoke up, overly amused about it.
Bucky sank further into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he zoned out to somewhere far away, and you felt a pang in your heart at the sight- how can such a large man manage to look so small; so defeated?
"You guys are roasting him because he hasn't been on a date yet?" you asked, your annoyance about it clear in your voice.
It may be a little strange, but you had always felt protective over Bucky. The team often ganged up on him, and besides Steve, you were his closest friend - the two of you took a little while to warm up to each other, but once the ice thawed the two of you were rarely seen without the other. Now, it's not to say you never joined in on teasing him - because you did, quite often - but you knew when to stop. Perhaps it was because he would open up to you about some of the things he felt insecure about during your moonlit talks, the two of you tucked safely under blankets or hidden away somewhere in the compound as you spoke what neither of you could say in the light of day. Or, maybe it was because you just knew him well enough to know whether a topic would upset him or not. Whatever the reason may be for it, you always knew what was okay to say and what wasn't. Bucky would never be able to say how much he appreciated you for that.
"Tinman's been on dates, didn't you know?" Tony asked, grinning at you mischievously. "He just blew them all."
You tried not to let the hurt show on your face. He's been on dates? God, of course he has, look at him.
"Okay, and? You've never had bad dates before?" you asked, letting the anger start to shine through. "Just leave him alone."
Tony rolled his eyes. "Awe, look at that. Mommy dearest to the rescue once again, huh, Barnes?"
You stood up straight as rage surged through you, opening your mouth to tell him where to go. Before you could, Bucky's voice rang out: "Watch your fucking mouth, Stark. Or I'll shut you up myself," he warned, voice eerily calm as he glared at Tony.
Bucky was never really one to speak up when others came at him, more or less just taking it with an eye roll, clenched jaw, or tight smile as they all had their fun. However, once the comments turned towards you, as they always seemed to if you were around (and let's be honest, how often were you not around?), he was quick on his feet to stop them in their tracks, making the room feel so tense that no one else said anything for fear the air around them would actually suffocate them if they opened their mouth.
"Here we go again," you heard Sam mutter to himself. "Alright, I'm out of here. See you guys later," he added, walking out of the room with his hands up in a display of surrender.
He gave you a knowing look as he walked out, ignoring your questioning gaze and instead giving you a loving pat on the shoulder as he passed by. With him now out of sight, you turn your attention back to Tony, waiting for what was to come next.
"Look, all I'm saying-" Tony started, waving his glass around emphatically - amber liquid on the verge of splashing everywhere.
"No one cares what you're saying, Tony," you interrupted, already exasperated from the interaction.
He held up his hand, pointing a finger at you. "Come on, princess. You really gonna take away my fun? Under my own roof?"
"Yes, I am. Can't you take a day off from being a complete dick to him? Just once? We've all seen this show before, Tony, and it always ends the same way," you said, walking further into the room to snatch the glass from his hand, glaring at him as you did so. "And don't call me princess," you seethed, slamming the glass down on the side table behind you.
You didn't want to hate Tony, in all honesty you truly did love him. At the end of the day he was your family, and family wasn't perfect. However, you couldn't keep down the small bubbles of hatred that boiled inside you whenever he started to target Bucky. You didn't see him as family when he waved his disdain for the soldier around like a kite in the wind; you just saw him as a rich douchebag picking on someone beneath him. You hated the way he treated Bucky, and you absolutely loathed the way he made Bucky's voice tremble ever so slightly with self doubt when he lays in your arms in the dead of night, recounting the things Tony said to him that keep him awake, that make old wounds reopen. You loved Tony, but his hatred for Bucky also made you hate him.
"No? Do you only like it when RoboCop calls you that?" Tony asked calmly, a malicious glint shining in his eyes, his smirk growing wider when he saw your expression. 
You felt the blood rush to your face, recounting a few of the times that the name had slipped through Bucky's lips; though it was from the haze of sleep and moments of vulnerability, there were few memories you cherished more. "Go to sleep now, princess. I'll be here when you wake up." "Thank you for staying with me, princess." "You're safe now, princess." 
"Yeah, I hear a lot of things around here that I probably shouldn't. Now, why don't you lighten up and let me say my piece, princess?" Tony continued with a grin, and it took everything in you to not smack it off his face.
"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Bucky suddenly spat, making you jump slightly - he had fallen so silent you half forgot he was even there. The menace that dripped from his words sent a chill down your spine, and you sent one last glare at Tony before you glanced over your shoulder.
One look over at Bucky as he jumped from the couch told you he had never been more serious. His jaw was tight as his lips pressed together in a fine line, his fists clenched so tightly that the mechanisms in his left arm started to whir and the veins in his right arm shone prominently, his whole body tense as his chest heaved. He took two quick steps forward, but the second you raised your hand to his chest he stopped.
"Buck, it's alright," you said calmly. You knew it wasn't - you were angry, hurt, embarrassed, and a million other things; but you couldn't let Bucky in on that. You had to brush it all off so you could be the calm that Bucky needed in order to tame the never ending storm raging furiously inside him.
Bucky looked down at you with narrowed eyes, as if he didn't understand a word you said. "I'm supposed to just let him talk to you like that?"
If it weren't for the seriousness of the moment, you would have blushed from his words. Instead, you huffed and lightly shoved him away. "Yes, because you're feeding into exactly what he wants, Bucky. You know all he wants is to mess with you."
"Not true," Tony chimed in from behind you. "I want lots of things, pumpkin. In fact, one of those things is Pepper, so I'll be going now. And hey, when you and soldier boy here finally get married, just remember - I'm ordained."
You spared a glance in his direction just in time to see his shit-eating grin before he turned and sauntered happily out of the room.
"Can you two ever give me a fucking break?" you scolded, crossing your arms over your chest.
"Aw don't you start now, too," Bucky whined, tossing his head back slightly as he sighed, making his way back to the couch.
You sighed as well, following in his wake to plop down beside him. You didn't need to say anything, he took one look at you and knew the question that was already dancing on your tongue: what was it about this time?
"Look, it doesn't matter," he huffed out, slumping his shoulders as he looked down at his hands resting on his lap, wringing his fingers together. 
“Come on, when have I ever let it go that easily?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. 
He let out a humourless chuckle, the corners of his mouth flicking upwards for the briefest of moments as the memories of the countless times you two have been in this situation flashed through his mind. 
You could see the turmoil on his face, and you knew he was trying to find a way to express what was going on, so you sat patiently and waited for him to find the proper words. 
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he finally settled on, the words coming out in a rushed breath. 
Before you could question him, he carried on with a frown, his brows knit together. “It was so much easier back then, you know? Flash a smile, go to the fair, wear the uniform, whatever. I never had to think about it, but now there’s- there’s just so much…. so much expectation. You bring flowers and you care too much, you don’t bring flowers and you don’t care enough. I-it’s like everything that I do, I should have done the opposite. I can’t get anything right.”
You sat in silence for a moment, his words bouncing around in your head. Each syllable he spoke fractured your heart until it was shattered into bits; but all you cared about as you looked at the broken man in front of you was putting him back together, hoping that your words and your comfort and your care would be enough to put together the delicate pieces of him - the pieces that broke off every time he doubted himself, every time he remembered his past, every time he did something wrong on a mission - the pieces that you picked up and kept safe inside of yourself until you had the chance to give them back to him, gluing them on with whispers of affirmation and promises that everything would be okay in time.
“You never mentioned any of this before,” you said tentatively, the unspoken words why did you keep this from me? hanging in the air. “Is this what they were teasing you about? Your struggle to figure out how to date again?”
He let out a huff of air as he slung his head back to rest against the back of the couch, shaking it lightly as he stared up at the ceiling, his jaw flexing with contemplation. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal, but then Jackass 1 and Jackass 2 found out and ran with it.”
“Okay, well.. walk me through it. Is there someone you want to take out on a date right now? Maybe I can give you some ideas,” you offered softly, the words tasting bitter in your mouth as you spoke them. 
He groaned, running his hands over his face before smacking them back down on his legs, his palms dragging across the fabric covering his thighs for a few seconds; a habit, you noticed, that he often did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “No,” he said flatly, biting down on his tongue to keep the words yes, my delicate little flower, I want to take you out on a date from tumbling out of his mouth. 
“No?” you echoed, surprised by the response. 
He nodded his head in confirmation. “No,” he repeated, looking at you. Taking in your expression, he carried on. “Like, no there isn’t anyone. I don’t- I didn’t even want to go on those dates, but… I couldn’t- I mean, I kinda just…. felt like I needed to."
There was so much he left unsaid at this moment. So much he wanted to say, needed to say - not only just to get it off his chest, but because he believed that you deserved to know. Every time he looked at you he had the burning desire to bare his soul to you, to tell you all the things he kept buried away in the deep recesses of his mind, locked away in a vault only you could open. He wanted to tell you that he still feels so out of place, that most days when he was out in this new world he suddenly resembled a child who was lost amongst a crowd of scary and unfamiliar things - desperately searching for something he recognized that he could cling to. He wanted to tell you that you were the familiar thing he found to cling to, that he carried you in his head and in his heart every time he was out; that when things got too overwhelming he closed his eyes and recalled the encouraging words you always told him, that when that wasn't enough he called you with some lame excuse just so he could ground himself with your voice - "Hey, doll. What was the name of that bakery you took me to the other week? I'm thinking of getting more of those cookies we liked." He had saved the bakery's location to his phone (something he knew how to do thanks to you) the second he saw how your eyes sparkled when you got there, just to make sure he could always find it and pick things up for you. "Hey, so, I just got yelled at because I walked by and ruined someone's… what the fuck was it? It has to do with a clock or something? Does that sound like something you know? Please tell me what the hell that is because I feel like I'm going insane." He knew what it was. He had downloaded the app after he witnessed how much it made you laugh, and he had an endless amount of saved videos that he thought you would like, but for some reason wasn't brave enough to show you. "Okay, I’m out shopping - and don't laugh because this is a serious question - do you think I would look good in pink?" He vividly remembered your words from a few months ago, when he was burritoed in your fuzzy pink blanket during movie night, and you told him so casually that he should start wearing pink because it complimented his eyes. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing in this universe that could still the incessant maelstrom that was his mind. That when he was out on those dates the storm raged on more intensely than ever, but one look or word from you and everything was quiet; not even a trace of rain. 
He wanted to tell you. But he didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Oh, but he needed to- 
"You wanted to try to fit in," your gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at you. To see your eyes, full of understanding. To see your lips, pulled into a sad smile - but not one of pity, one that said all you wanted was to help him through yet another battle he was fighting with himself.
"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah. I guess I just figured.. well, I don't know. Everyone kept saying how I needed to get out there. That dating was the next best step I could take to try and….. to- to understand how to live in this world better. I just wanted things to make sense again, but now I'm even more lost and confused than before I even went on those god damn dates."
You tried to keep your face even, to not let him see how sad it made you to hear the way his voice wavered when he told you what was going on. To not let him know that you sensed how small he was feeling, how even though his broad frame still shadowed you as you both sat there, he had never seemed so small.
"Well…. take me on a date," you suggested, not taking the time to even think about it. 
Bucky swore the whole room started to spin. His mouth ran dry and his heart hammered so heavily in his chest that he was convinced you could hear it. He knew he heard you wrong, he wasn't lucky enough to have a girl like you. The world was cruel, and he knew that the one sliver of hope that he had for a truly blissful life would never be fully his. That one day it would leave him, just like everything else throughout the years, as you found yourself in the arms of someone else. He would never have you the way he wanted you, the way he needed you. He knew that. So he had to have misheard you. "Come again?" 
Your whole face lit up when he asked this, and Bucky could feel himself coming undone. Your hands on his arm when you grabbed him in excitement suddenly felt so different than in the past. It used to feel warm, comforting, calming; but for some reason this time it sent a jolt of fire and electricity through him, and he never wanted to lose that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, feel it always, feel it forever. 
“Yeah! Oh, it would be great, Buck! We can go on a few dates, and I can help you find your footing with it all before you get back out there,” you said excitedly. You purposely overinflated your smile so he wouldn’t see the way your lips faltered with the struggle of getting out the last part, diverting your gaze for the smallest of moments so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes dimmed with the thought of him being with someone else. 
Bucky shifted where he sat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as his mind went into overdrive trying to think of a response. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to say yes, but then there was a small piece of him that knew it wouldn’t end well - the piece that knew how he truly felt about you, the piece that knew it would easily be tricked into thinking these dates actually meant something to you; because lord knows they would mean the world and more to him. Bucky wanted to say yes, but he knew he had to say no. He had to say no because it wouldn’t be fair to you - you were offering to help him and he would be taking advantage of your kindness, using it to get to see you in a light he’d never be able to otherwise. He had to say no because saying yes could ruin everything. He may not be able to go back to the way it was before these dates, too addicted to ever quit you. He had to say no, for your sake, because it was a selfless offer. Bucky, however, was selfish when it came to you. 
“You know, doll… that may not be the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he had said, giving you a lopsided smile. Your eyes lit up once more as you grinned at him, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, feeling as giddy as he did the first time he was allowed to stay up late as a kid. 
“Excellent choice, Barnes,” you said playfully. “I swear you won’t regret it, it’ll be really fun. Just you and me, no expectations.”
Bucky nodded, shifting his head to scratch his jaw so you wouldn’t see the light frown that danced across his lips for a moment. “No expectations,” he repeated, careful to keep his voice level. “I can work with that.”
“Good,” you said softly, nodding a little. “I’ll give you some time to think about it and plan something, and you can just let me know whenever you wanna go on date number one.”
He was silent for a minute, taking the time to carefully churn the words over in his mind before answering. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he knew immediately what he wanted to do. How could he not? All he ever did was look for new things he thinks you’d like, find himself dreaming of where he’d take you if he ever got the chance. Sure, you guys have done lots of things together before - brunches, lunches, dinners, movie nights, events, parties; you name it. Though there was never any meaning with any of those, it was always just friends spending time together. How were either of you supposed to know you each wished they meant something more? Heaven forbid you two would actually say how you felt.
"No need," Bucky said, rising from the couch with a small chuckle, looking down at you with the smile he reserved only for you. The one that skillfully said everything and nothing all at once. “Lunch. Tomorrow.”
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freedomfireflies · 8 months
Text
American Psycho*
Summary: Part of Halloween Kinktober, Freaky Fun, and One for the Money*
The one where you and your boss, Mr. Styles, have a little bit too much fun at the office Halloween party.
Can be read as standalone!
Word Count: 4.6k
*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*
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“What…are you wearing?”
Mr. Styles glances down at his dark suit, brow cocked upward. “What does it look like?”
“Har,” you huff, although you’re smiling as you toss your makeup bag aside and move closer, “I thought you were putting on a costume. It’s a Halloween party, you’re supposed to dress up.”
“I am,” he argues. “I’m dressed as a guy that doesn’t want to fucking go.”
You laugh. “Come on, be fun for a change.”
“I’m the boss. I’m not supposed to be fun.”
“Well, they’re throwing this party for you,” you remind him. “Nadia’s been talking about it all week.”
“Right, instead of working. Which is not what I pay her to do.”
“Harry,” you repeat, shooting him a pointed look. “Seriously, why don’t you put on a little fake blood or something? You could go as Patrick Bateman!”
“And why would I do that when I could just not go at all?”
Pushing your pink, painted lips into a pout, you straighten up onto your tiptoes, and snake your arms around his neck. “Please, Sir? Just this once? For me?”
He begins to frown, but you feel his hands find your hips, expression stern but amused. “Peach…”
“I won’t ever ask for anything ever again,” you murmur, letting your mouth ghost atop his teasingly. “Swear. And I’ll behave all night. Be so good for you.”
He likes this idea, studying you carefully as his grip tightens. “Is that so?”
“Incredibly so. Just want to have fun with you, Sir.”
“I know,” he sighs, now cupping his palm against your cheek. “But you know the rule, honey. We can’t be seen together, not at the office.”
“I know,” you echo. “But we can still go. Even if we can’t exactly hold hands and dance in front of everybody, we can have fun. And I want that for you. You never take the stick out of your ass.”
Pinching your jaw playfully, he snorts. “And I thought you were gonna be good.”
“Once you agree, yeah. Until then, I make no promises.”
With a smirk, he grasps onto your chin, and tugs you to him. Smashing his lips to yours until you exhale gratefully and melt into his touch.
“Besides,” you mumble, “if you don’t come with me, then I’ll have to go in my slutty costume all by myself.”
Now you have his attention, his eyes narrowing sternly as he leans back to see you. “Oh, really?”
You nod. “Yup. Thought I’d use some of the lingerie you got me and go as a Playboy bunny.”
You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips – even through his nice dress shirt – and it makes you chuckle.
“Did you?” He doesn’t seem to have much else to offer, but you can see his walls beginning to crumble.
“Mhm. Equipped with a fuzzy little tail and ears.”
He swallows thickly before clearing his throat in an effort to appear nonchalant. “Well, let’s see it then.”
“Only if you agree to go.”
“Peach,” he warns, frowning again but you’re quick to shake your head.
“That’s my deal, Sir. Take it or leave it.”
And while you can tell he wants to be cross with you, he begins to smile, clearly amused with your negotiation tactics. Perhaps even a little proud.
“Fine,” he finally concedes, making you grin. “But I’m not putting on any makeup.”
“No, just a little fake blood,” you suggest, immediately rushing toward your bag to retrieve the bottle. “It won’t stain, and it washes right out.”
He eyes you carefully while you scurry across his apartment. “And I suppose you’d like me to carry an ax, too.”
“I mean…it would sell the part,” you tease. “But let’s start with the blood. Go wait in the bathroom and I’ll go change really quick.”
“No, don’t,” he calls, almost firmly before you can slip from the room. “Not yet.”
You hesitate. “Okay…why? What’s wrong?”
His tongue runs over his bottom lip while his head cocks deviously to the side. “Because if you do…then we aren’t ever leaving this apartment.”
And you can’t help but grin.
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“Let me guess…Edward Cullen?”
Even from a few feet away, you can see Harry’s expression fall. “Funny.”
“What?” Nadia smiles. “Come on, you look just like him. The blood and the suit and everything. It’s good.”
“Great,” he grumbles but you can tell he’s amused.
She laughs. “Patrick Bateman is a good look for you, boss. I like it. Feels…fitting.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. But in a sexy, fun kind of way.”
He snorts before his eyes trail over to you. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
You wink.
The party is relaxed but enjoyable. Everyone is mingling, drinking, and dancing to the upbeat, spooky playlist. The usually boring, gray interior of the office floor is decorated with orange lights, carved pumpkins, and an array of ghostly décor. And nearly everyone came in costume, making it feel that much more like Halloween.
And despite the fact that you and Mr. Styles are forced to remain distant, you find yourself admiring him from across the room almost all evening. Happy that he seems to have finally begun to unwind, relax, and even enjoy himself. 
You watch as he engages in chatter with some of the other men in the finance department. You catch his eye while you’re grabbing a drink of the festive punch. And you feel him stare as you and Nadia head to the middle of the floor to dance to Somebody’s Watching Me.
Truth be told, you find it hard to be away from him after so many nights together. And even though it’s what you both agreed on, you feel a certain sort of longing for the handsome man in the corner of the room. 
However, neither of you are quite ready to tell the office you’re dating yet or deal with the potential fallout. At least not right now, when things are so new. Special. You suppose that could change in the future, but at least for tonight, he’s your dirty little secret.
So you resort to exchanging sneaky glances from time to time as you enjoy the party. Like now, when you catch his subtle but devious smile from behind the shadows while his hand casually slips into his suit jacket pocket. 
It’s a nonchalant motion. Relaxed enough that you barely catch on as you and Nadia continue swaying back and forth to the rhythm. Enjoying the heavy bass and eerie tune. 
And then, suddenly…you feel it. The first, gentle vibration from the toy sitting snugly inside your pussy. 
Your breath hitches.
And now you understand his look of amusement and the disappearance of his hand. He’s testing out the toy, warning you of his intentions even from the other side of the room. 
Just like he promised.
After all, that was his only condition. He’d dress up, he’d play nice, he’d be a good boss.
But if he wasn’t allowed to touch you all night, he at least wanted to have some fun. And remind you that he is still the one you belong to.
A reminder he gleefully gives you now, turning up the strength on the small bullet inside your cunt while he continues chatting with Alex from IT.
He’s not looking at you anymore – something you almost despise – but it’s obvious that he’s entertained. Fighting against a wry grin as he nods along in conversation. 
You, on the other hand, are beginning to feel the effects of the teasing. A sharp, pleasurable chill running down your legs while you falter in place and swallow a gasp.
Confused, Nadia eyes you carefully. “You okay?” she calls over the music, leaning closer. “You look a little woozy.”
“I’m…no, I’m…I’m good,” you manage to stammer, forcing a nod before you continue with your dance. “S’just hot in here, I guess.”
“God, you’re telling me,” she snorts, running a knuckle under her eye to catch some smeared makeup. “Last time I commit to the leather pants.”
Exhaling a laugh, you slowly pull your thighs together, hoping to lessen the vibrations currently traveling through your pussy. “Well, you look great.”
“Thanks,” she laughs before gesturing up and down at your costume. “What about you, hm? This is the sexiest corset I’ve ever seen.”
“Thanks, it’s quite hard to breathe in,” you retort playfully, glancing over the pink silk on your torso. “This will also be the last time I commit to lingerie in public.”
“Fair enough. But that’s what Halloween is for, right? So you can be your true, slutty self just for one night.”
You chuckle again before slowly looking over to catch a glimpse of your sadistic boyfriend. However, you find that the smug bastard is now nowhere to be found. Having disappeared from the room, leaving you to struggle without him.
And then, you feel the strength increase.
It’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore the pleasure building in your stomach or the sharp rushes of ecstasy that echo across your clit. Which you suppose is his goal, although you aren’t sure why he’s so determined to make you fall apart under so many obvious eyes.
But you imagine that’s part of the fun. The idea that even though he can’t be with you, he can control your pleasure.
And you have to admit…you adore him for it.
With a shaky exhale, you nod your head toward the exit. “I’m, uh…I’m gonna go get some fresh air for a bit. I’ll be right back.”
Nadia nods. “No problem. I’ll be here.”
Leaving her with a smile, you begin to search for where he might have gone. You imagine his office, although you aren’t quite sure how you’re meant to meet him when so many people are watching.
Sure, more than half the room is drunk or otherwise occupied, but you don’t want to taunt fate. Especially after begging him to come in the first place.
But the painful pleasure in your cunt is beginning to worsen and you realize rather quickly that there’s only one solution.
Him.
So, you take a deep breath and slip into the adjoining hall, traveling through the darkness until you find his door.
You take a deep breath and knock twice, calling a soft but hopeful, “Mr. Styles? Are you in there?”
The sound of a lock turning nearly makes you shiver, and you can’t help but grin giddily as the door swings open, and a hand outstretches for you.
You’re yanked inside before you can even offer a greeting, tossed mercilessly toward his desk while he slams the door shut, and turns to face you.
And he’s stunning. So effortlessly beautiful, even with the blood dripping down his face. You wonder if you should be worried you find this so attractive, but you don’t exactly have it in you to care. Because the way his disheveled suit hugs his broad frame is sinfully delicious and the ruby droplets smeared across his jaw makes your cunt clench around the toy.
He strides toward you, drinking you in like he’s dying of thirst. Eyes dark and clouded with salacious intentions. 
He takes hold of your face between strong palms and crashes his mouth to yours. Hips pushing you back until you collide with the wooden table just behind you. Trapping you there while you gasp for air and tangle your fingers in his messy curls.
He groans in response, nipping at your bottom lip until you can’t breathe. “Gonna fucking kill me, Peach. Walking around in this slutty little costume. Almost came in my pants when you bent over.”
You smirk lazily as his kisses move down your neck. “Good, that was my plan.”
He makes another animalistic noise before shoving at your waist a bit harder. 
One hand disappears back into his pocket while the other travels up your fishnet stockings and settles against your cunt. The heel of his palm pressing against your covered clit as his harsh kisses dance beneath your ear.
“Shit, Har—” you gasp before you feel him tug your skin between his teeth. “Sir. Please…need…”
“I know,” he grunts, increasing the power of the toy until you’re both moaning. “Can feel it, Peach. Feels good, hm? Feels so fucking good. Bet you’re gonna cum in your pretty, little panties before I even touch you, yeah?”
You make another incoherent noise as his hand pushes the toy further into your pussy. The electric vibrations reverberate across his palm, doubling the sensation until your head just about drops back. Making the bunny ears slip to the ground, forgotten. 
“Good,” he hums, and you feel a bit of his fake blood smear across your neck. “S’a good girl, honey. Already close, aren’t you? What a pathetic little thing. Always fall apart so fast when I use a toy to play with you.”
You nod quickly in agreement. After all, he’s right. Vibrators have you coming faster than almost anything else – besides his cock.
And his mouth.
This is a fact he utilizes now, nudging the vibrator further into you until your legs begin to shake. You can feel it in your stomach, the first unraveling as it becomes stronger, and louder, and faster.
You fling an arm around his shoulders for stability before you’re disintegrating beneath him. Writhing and squirming and panting as he sees you through. 
“There you go,” he whispers, mouth brushing over yours. Wanting to taste your moans as you come down. “You’re all right, my love. Doing so good, hm? Gonna give me another?”
You nod faintly and he smirks before reaching beneath your corset top to find the decorative panties attached to your costume. 
He shoves them aside without pause before ripping the delicate fabric of the stockings almost fiercely. And far too easily for your liking.
He then retrieves the small toy from inside your cunt – smiling when he feels how soaked the silicone has become – before he’s dragging it up to your clit. Pressing the stimulating tip into your sensitive and swollen nerves as you suddenly gasp and go reeling.
“Shh,” he hushes, glancing over your face. “Can’t be too loud, hm? Y’know I love it when you scream for me, but we can’t let me hear, can we?”
“It’s…it’s Halloween,” you counter. “They’re used to screams.”
But Mr. Styles merely smirks. “Be that as it may…I don’t want to share your screams with anyone else. Not tonight.”
You feel your head grow fuzzier as he dips down to take your lips with his.
“Tonight…your screams belong to me,” he exhales against your tongue before he’s pressing the vibrator harder against your cunt.
You’re a mess. Soaking his hand, your outfit, the toy. Shaking almost pitifully while he finally releases the remote to press his palm to the back of your neck. Forcing your faces together until neither one of you can breathe without the other.
He was right, you are pathetic. So goddamn tragic as you begin to shake beneath the bullet. Already close to your second orgasm of the evening before he’s even had a chance to tease you.
But you don’t think he minds. He collects your orgasms like Pokémon cards. Wearing the number proudly until you’re nothing but a pile of limbs in his arms.
Two is only a start. And you know as long as he has this toy, he plans to force you into many more.
“Fucking shit, Peach,” he groans, forehead resting against yours as he glances down at where his hand is settled between your thighs. “Oh, that’s my girl. Always behave so well for me. Knew you would, yeah? Just like you promised.”
Again, you can do nothing but nod weakly. Still clinging to his body like a lifeline while he strokes you through the aftershocks.
“Okay,” he finally sighs, removing the toy and swiping his thumb across your clit. Collecting the arousal waiting for him just to bring it up to his lips. “Okay, honey, turn around. Bend over the desk for me.”
You whimper at the way he takes his body from you and from the very idea of what comes next. You hate that you won’t be able to see his face, but you adore this position. Especially because of the way he manhandles you.
Like now as his hands suddenly grasp onto your hips to fling you around so you’re facing his large, floor to ceiling windows.
The city is beautiful at night. Lit up like a prize, vast and seemingly endless. It’s one of your favorite things about his office and you smile to yourself as you take in the view.
But you aren’t afforded the chance to daydream long before he’s weaving his fingers through your roots and pushing you down until your chest meets his desk. Keeping you bent and pliable as he undoes his leather belt.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, squeezing your scalp as though to reward you. “Gonna fuck you quick. Can’t have Nadia come looking for you, can we?”
You whimper a response before you hear his pants fall to the floor, followed by a snapping of elastic as he pulls his cock from his briefs. 
“Let me have a look at you,” he grits, releasing your head so he can stand back and admire your dripping pussy. Pulling back the costume until your cunt is on display for his hungry eyes. “So fucking cute, Peach. S’all pretty and red. Just weeping for me, hm?”
“Sir—”
“Get all sensitive when I make you cum a lot, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “Your puffy little clit gets all swollen and achy, hm?”
“Yes…yes, Sir, please—”
“Just one more for now, yeah? Just one. And then I’ll take you home and do it right.”
There’s a racing in your chest that can’t be contained. A sharp thrill that lives beneath your skin. He’s everything. His voice, his touch, his intentions. Even his mind. It’s wickedly beautiful and you adore him more than anything in the world.
You feel his fingers smooth through your folds. Teasing you for only a moment before you feel his cock come into play. Repeating the action of pressing and slipping through the wetness that awaits him.
“Can’t tell you what this costume does to me,” he whispers, groping your side with one hand. Preparing you. “You, and this tight, little fucking top, and these goddamn tights. Everybody was staring when you came in. Fucking everybody and I could’ve killed them.”
You moan something akin to his name, but he’s not listening. He’s lost on you. On your body and the way it looks, spread out before him.
“Even this fucking bunny tail,” he snorts, and you feel him pinch the fuzzy ball on your ass playfully. “Sits so pretty on you, y’know. Just like that plug I got you.”
“Shit,” you mumble, stomach clenching at the memory. “Har—”
His hand comes down in a sharp strike to your left ass cheek as you jolt. “Uh-uh. What’s my name?”
“Sir,” you correct, eyes squeezing shut. “Sir, please…please fuck me. Need you so bad—”
“Do you, hm?” He lands another spank before smoothing over the area with calmer motions.
You nod. “You look so good, Sir. Can’t…can’t stand it.”
Even without being able to see him, you can picture his smirk. “Do I?”
“Yes,” you exhale, almost groaning from the thought. “Covered in blood, wearing my favorite suit. Even the way you did your hair. S’been so hard to keep my hands off you tonight.”
You hear a dark, rather sadistic chuckle. “You like the blood, do you?”
You whimper. “Know I shouldn’t, but…it makes you look so fucking hot, Sir.”
Another harsh smack to your ass. Louder this time. “You know how I feel about your cussing, Peach.”
“M’sorry, Sir. But it’s true. You’re so fucking hot like this.”
He spanks you a fourth time but he’s still chuckling. “I’ll remember that,” he murmurs, kneading the tender flesh in his palm. “Never thought my precious peach would have such dirty fantasies.”
“I don’t, Sir. Only when it’s you.”
And he seems to like this idea, cursing in the back of his throat before nudging the tip of his cock against your clit. Making you both gasp until he finds your hole.
The first push in is delicious. Slow enough to prepare you and ease you open, but it’s everything. Scratching an itch that makes your brain turn to mush. Until you’re nearly collapsing onto his desk with anxious whimpers. 
“Good,” he breathes from behind you. “Good girl. That’s it, my love. Let me in, just like that. You all right?”
Another faint motion of your head. One that almost concerns him as he laces his fingers back through your roots.
“Peach,” he grunts. “Know I need your words. And you will give them to me when I ask for them. So what’s your color?”
“Green,” you whisper, nails curling into the wooden table beneath. “M’sorry, Sir, I’m green. Just feels so good. Wanted…to focus. To feel you.”
You hear him sigh before he’s pushing in a bit further. “Then fucking feel me.”
He sits inside your cunt like he was always meant to be there. Warm and thick and the perfect stretch. Making the stars return to your eyes as you begin to cry out his name.
However, he releases your scalp only to reach around and smack his palm against your lips. Keeping you quiet as he begins his thrusts.
“Uh-uh,” he warns. “Be a good little bunny and stay quiet.”
The pace is slow at first. Just enough to drive you absolutely mad and you imagine the scariest thing about tonight is how easily you’ve become such a blubbering mess.
“Like it when Daddy’s mean, don’t you?” he calls, returning both hands to your hips. “Like it when I treat you like you’re nothing.”
You can feel the sticky substance of the fake blood smearing across your hips. Probably staining your clothes – an obvious mark of his touch. A mark you’d proudly wear for the rest of your life if he’d let you.
“So fucking wet, honey,” he hisses. “S’just drowning my cock, isn’t it?”
You offer a garbled noise.
“Yeah. Just dripping down me, baby. Begging me to do something about it. Begging me to fucking take you.”
Your entire body is shaking. Along with the desk and an assortment of papers and pens that become scattered with every sharp drive of his hips. 
And you can hear it. Can hear the sound of his cock slipping in and out of your pussy and echoing between the walls of his large office. Wet, and lewd, and almost pornographic in nature. It’s obvious how needy you are for him. How unhinged your body has become. Soaking him exactly the way he loves as he fucks himself into you.
You can feel the sweat beading at your hairline. Can hear your pulse thumping in your ears – in time to the music in the other room and the thrusting of his hips. Leaving you to do nothing but lay across his desk and take it. Take him, exactly the way he wanted.
“How about another, hm?” He squeezes your sides harshly before one hand leaves you. “Gonna give me another, my love?”
Nodding tiredly, you allow your lashes to flutter shut. Focusing instead on the sound of his voice and the rough touch of his fingertips. You can feel it building. Can practically taste the beginnings of a third orgasm. You’re powerless to the pleasure. Undone by the man behind you as he readjusts his stance and angles his cock up.
It’s wicked. The immense, overwhelming, and unfathomable coursing of lust between each joint, and muscle, and fiber. You can’t escape it, can’t fight it. Can’t even understand it.
That’s what you needed. That spot, that attention. Over and over and over, and he’s so good at hitting it just right. Only to drag his cock back out and leave you empty and wilted.
“Relax,” he orders firmly before a familiar buzzing reverberates between your ears. “Relax, Peach. It’s okay, honey. Just want one more.”
The bullet is snaked around your hip before it’s pressing firmly to your clit. Forcing the sensitive and swollen bud to succumb to the vibrations and bring you that much closer.
You cry out for a second time, hands scratching down his desk, but he only curses through gritted teeth.
“There you go,” he exhales, and it’s thick. “S’okay, I’ve got you.”
He’s a mad man. Deranged and borderline animalistic with the way he demands your body bend to his will.
“Sir—” You suck in a large gasp for air, but it’s useless. “Har, please—”
His large palm spanks down on your ass as punishment, but he doesn’t comment on your slip.  “I know. Almost there. Know you’re almost there, can feel you clenching, baby. Keep going. Feels so fucking good—”
“Can’t…can’t—”
“Yes, you can. Know it hurts, but you can do it. You’ll do it, come on.”
And you want to, you do. More than anything, but it’s almost too good. You can’t think properly, can’t seem to relax long enough to let the orgasm overtake you.
Then, he’s wrangling you up. Pulling you until your back is pressed against his chest while he nudges his nose against your cheek. Inhaling you with a groan before he trails a few open-mouthed kisses along your neck. 
And in the reflection of his office windows, you see your silhouettes.
You, in your stunning Playboy costume, tits bouncing up out of the corset with each thrust, fake blood painted across your face and neck.
And him.
The devastatingly wonderful man behind you. Dressed in the sexiest suit you’ve ever seen, gelled curls gone askew, and that same blood dripping down almost every inch of him.
And he’s pounding his cock into your cunt like there’s no tomorrow. Trapping you against his body, your heaving chest in one hand, and the vibrating toy in the other. 
“So good, Peach,” he whispers. “So fucking good. Need you to cum, baby, please. Right now. Cum.”
And you do.
You don’t expect it. Have no time to prepare for it. Don’t even understand it’s happening until that white-hot explosion is dancing down your spine and expanding through your stomach. All the way into your toes as you whimper his name and wither in his touch. 
He does his best to hold you up while maintaining the pace he set. Faster and harder until he’s spilling inside of you with a moan. Mumbling your name while a hundred praises follow suit.
The aftershocks of this one seem to drag on longer than most. But you both indulge in the floaty feeling as you work to catch your breath. Syncopating to each other’s inhales until your heartbeats become one. 
“Did so good,” he sighs, nuzzling his cheek to yours. “God, so fucking good. Feel like heaven, you know that?”
You smile lazily and settle into his arms, allowing your weight to rest atop his. “Well…it’s easy when you look like this.”
He chuckles softly and kisses your temple. “You really do have a blood kink, hm?”
“No, I have a you-covered-in-blood kink. I don’t care when it’s anybody else.”
Now, he reaches out to slide his finger under your chin and turn your face to his. Staring at you for only a moment before he kisses you. Hard and yet filled with an emotion you just might recognize.
“Want you to do something for me, Peach,” he mumbles against your lips.
You nod quickly.
“Want you to fix your little panties…go down to my car…and wait for me.” 
You feel your breath hitch.
He smiles.
“We’ve got some videotapes to make.”
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~ One for the Money Masterlist
~ Freaky Fun Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
~ Blurb Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @hannahdressedasabanana @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @caynonmoondreams @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @nega-omega @sucker-4-angst @hsgucci94 @gills-lounge @kennedy-brooke @avasversion @stylesfever @saturnheartz @scndsofsummer @theofficialprongs
1K notes · View notes
chocopokkie · 2 months
Note
Love your work❤️🩷 Could I request Alastor X Female Reader kissing for the first time since they been together. Starts off slow then intensifies. Can be fluff/spicy
Hi!! Thank you for the request, I really hope you enjoy it as much as I had fun writing it!
Warnings: None?
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"So, toots, you're telling me you and Freaky Face haven't done ANYTHING? Not even KISS?" Angel Dust exclaimed boisterously, his voice reverberating through the lobby of the Hazbin Hotel as you two lounged in the plush seating.
You felt a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks at his blunt question. "N-no, that's not true! We... we hold hands!" you hastily defended, your words tumbling out in a rush as you sought to explain the extent of your relationship with Alastor.
Angel Dust let out a raucous laugh, his scarlet eyes glittering with mischief. "Holdin' hands, huh? Real scandalous stuff, toots."
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. "Oh, shut up, Angel. It's not like you're one to talk about romance."
He grinned wickedly, leaning in closer. "Oh, trust me, sweetheart, I know plenty about romance. Just not the kind that involves hand-holding if ya know what I mean."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his irreverent teasing, grateful for the distraction from your own awkwardness. Despite Angel Dust's antics, a warm fondness for your peculiar relationship with Alastor filled your heart. Yes, you wanted more but you didn't know how to voice your desires to him.
"Ok, Angel, what would you do if you were in my situation?" you asked, hoping for some feedback that might help from your friend.
"Oh, what WOULDN'T I do, toots?~" Angel Dust purred in response, a suggestive gleam dancing in his crimson eyes as he leaned closer with a playful grin. You playfully swatted him again, sharing a laugh. It was typical of him to respond with something sexual, and you should have known you'd get an answer like that.
--That night--
You were just about ready to head to bed after a long day, lights turning off when you hear knocking at the door. Who could that be at this hour, you wonder. Slightly annoyed, you flip the lights back on, get out of bed, and answer the door only to see your partner Alastor at the door. "Hello, Cher, I hope I'm not intruding on anything!" Alastor happily exclaims, his voice carrying an eerie cheerfulness as he steps past you, inviting himself into your room. Despite your initial surprise, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his unexpected visit.
"Oh, Alastor! Not at all, make yourself comfortable!" You hastily say, flustered at his surprise appearance. You two have been in a relationship for a while but this is the first time he has been in your room.
Alastor's smile widens, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he saunters further into the room. "Well, well, aren't you the hospitable host!" he chuckles, his voice smooth as velvet.
You can't help but smile at his playful demeanor, feeling a warmth spreading through you at his words. Despite the nerves fluttering in your stomach, being with Alastor always feels like coming home.
You move over to your bed and sit down at the edge, casting a tentative glance towards Alastor who remains standing in the middle of the room. "Soooo, what can I help you with?" you ask, the words tumbling out awkwardly. You've never felt this awkward around Alastor before, except perhaps in those early days when you were still getting to know each other. But there's something different about him right now, something that sets your heart racing and leaves you feeling inexplicably anxious.
Alastor starts stalking towards your position on the bed with an almost predatory grace, his movements fluid yet purposeful. He stands directly in front of you, his presence looming over you, and delicately places a gloved hand on your cheek, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I just wanted to come and see you, darling," he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety rumble that resonates deep within you. "It's been such a busy day for us both, after all." His words are laced with a hint of longing, a vulnerability that you rarely see in him, and it fills you with a strange mixture of tenderness and apprehension.
He moves gracefully and takes a seat next to you on your bed, his hand still gently caressing your cheek as his gaze remains locked with yours. "And also, maybe I came here to be a little selfish," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of mischief that leaves you intrigued. Selfish? The word hangs in the air, leaving you momentarily perplexed as you try to decipher its meaning. Before you can even process the thought fully, Alastor leans in closer, his eyes closing. His lips meet yours in a sudden, unexpected kiss, catching you completely off guard. What has come over him all of a sudden? In that instant, time seems to stand still as you lose yourself in the sweet rhythm of your shared passion, the world fading away until there is only the two of you, bound together in an electrifying embrace.
The kiss intensifies, and you feel the gentle pressure of Alastor's tongue tracing the curve of your bottom lip, a silent request for permission that you eagerly grant without hesitation. With a soft sigh of surrender, you part your lips, inviting him in with a newfound sense of urgency. The taste of him, mingled with the heady scent of desire, sends a thrill coursing through your veins.
The kiss was only a minute or two, but it felt like it lasted a lifetime. As you break apart, breathless and exhilarated, you can't help but utter a soft "Oh wow," your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. Alastor lets out a breathy chuckle, his crimson eyes sparkling with amusement. "What? Did you like that, cher?" he teases, his voice laced with playful affection. The warmth of his gaze washes over you, and you find yourself smiling in response, unable to contain the swell of happiness that fills your chest.
Oh you couldn't wait to tell Angel Dust about this.
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unstable-samural · 1 month
Text
A NEW LOVE AND A NEW PAST - smut
JOY X MALE READER
word count: 5.3K
tags: friends to lovers, first healthy relationship, angst
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[A/N: This is the first version, I will eventually correct the errors:)
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
Y/N ended the day as usual. The inside of the house was slowly being swallowed by black, and when he finally realized it, he was enveloped in complete darkness. Y/N went out feeling the walls in search of the switch. The lights came on, but he still felt everything was enveloped in darkness for some reason. He had already submitted the report that he spent the week working on for the company; now he was free, although he wanted to continue working on something. The house was clean, the dishes were washed, and the clothes were put away in the closet... Shit, there was nothing else to do that night. He had to be “entertained” Everyone needed that, after all. But he wouldn’t have the focus to read a book or watch a movie. Maybe playing a video game would be the best alternative. He decided that would be it, so he took a shower and prepared his dinner (Cup Noodles, if that can be called dinner).
At around 7:00 pm, his doorbell rang. He did not expect visitors that night. Y/N paused his game and got up from the sofa to open the door.
It was a real surprise to see who it was. Standing there, slightly crestfallen and apparently not knowing what she was doing.
He had never seen her like that.
“Joy?!” Y/N asked, alarmed.
“Y/N... Can I come in?”
“Sure!”
He opened the way for her to pass. Joy was dressed in her ballet uniform; that’s what she taught at a dance studio nearby.
“Are you well?” He asked.
“Yes. I mean, not exactly…”
“What are you doing here?”
“Am I disturbing you?”
“No way! That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I’m worried about you showing up unannounced.”
“Sorry.” He noticed how tired she looked. “We had a fight, Y/N. We had a serious disagreement today. And I think it’s over.
It took him a while to process what she said.
“Fight?”
Finally, he remembered who she was talking about.
“Yes. And at the end of it all, I said it was over between us. I broke up with you know who.”
“Come, sit on the sofa” he asked, and she sat down next to him. “Why did you break up with him?”
“Things haven’t been good for a while, but i was trying to hold on, cause I thought it was just a bad phase in our relationship, but then other problems came and I couldn’t handle it all alone. You could say I’ve reached my limit.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It all happened very quickly. I’m still in my ballet uniform.” She smiled. It was a sad smile.
“But why, out of all your friends, did you choose to come to me?” Y/N asked, feeling afraid that perhaps she would misinterpret his question.
“When I was leaving his apartment, your image suddenly came to mind. So I felt like seeing you. How long is it? About four months?”
“Pretty much that. Look, to tell you the truth, I thought I’d never see you again. You or anyone from our old friends.”
“That fight really messed everything up between us, didn’t it?”
“Yes...”
“And to this day I don’t understand how things got to that point.”
“I was drunk as hell and said what I shouldn’t have to him. That simple. Some people even die because they do this kind of shit, you know?” Y/N tried to look funny with this, but it didn’t work.
“Was everything you said true?”
“No. Not really. I was just angry.”
“He thought it was true. Still thinking.”
“What difference does it make? Nothing I say will make him believe me. If they hadn’t held him back, the guy would have punched me.”
“A beating,” she corrected him. “At home, he said he would kick your ass.”
“Ah, even better.”
“You asked what difference the truth makes. Well, It’s ME who wants to understand you, Y/N. This is important to me."
“Why? This is past. You seem to be getting off-topic here. We have to talk about your breakup.”
“The two things are connected, you idiot!” Joy exclaimed, and then Y/N saw her blush. “Sorry! I exalted myself.”
Y/N didn’t imagine that being called an idiot could be cute. With a defeated smile, he said:
“The truth was, I was mad at him for getting what I wanted. The anger grew the more time we spent together. The anger came with the frustration I felt in my life, then it became envy, and the envy poisoned me and led me to say those things.”
“I thought it was just because of the alcohol.” She said, confused.
“Actually, I wasn’t drunk enough to say that shit by accident. I knew perfectly well what I was saying. The alcohol was just an excuse. At that moment I didn't realize that I was embarrassing you too. I'm fucking sorry.”
He lowered his head. Y/N would rather face death than look her in the eye.
“But what were you jealous of in him? If you lived with him like I did, you would know that there is nothing there to covet.”
“He had the only thing I cared about for himself. And that made me extremely frustrated. My idea was to slowly move away from him and cut off contact over time, but I knew he would never allow things to end that way. That’s why I acted like an idiot to kill our friendship once and for all. I... I hated myself for how I felt. That shit was making me sick, Joy. I felt like a snake among you...”
She placed her gentle hand on his shoulder, and she looked so pious in that moment that it only made Y/N feel worse.
“What did he have and you didn’t? Say please.”
“You, Joy. He had you.” The words came out of his mouth so bitterly that the expression of disgust on his face was visible.
“me?” She questioned. “Was it me you were jealous of?”
“Yes. I couldn’t bear to see you two together. It hurt like hell to see you in his arms when I was the one who should have been hugging you... See? I don’t even know what I’m talking about anymore. I’m sorry. Again..."
“Do you want to know why your fight with him was also connected to the end of our relationship? Because I was away from you. And when I broached this subject with him, he became extremely angry. I tried to reconcile the two of you, but he didn’t accept it. As the months passed, I felt increasingly lonely in this relationship. Everything was so cold at home, and sometimes what warmed me were the memories of the times we two spent together.” She smiled. “Like that day when I tried to teach you some ballet steps and you almost couldn’t walk for a week.”
“Hey, that shit was serious, okay? Too risky moves for beginners!”
She couldn’t contain her laughter. It was good to see her happy like that; it made him feel a little better.
“I was having trouble understanding. Or I simply made it difficult to understand the simple thing: I like you too, Y/N.”
“Even when you were with him?”
“Our relationship started off very well, but it didn’t take long for him to start feeling like he owned me, judging what I wore, what I ate, my friends, and even my weight. As if my mother judging me wasn’t enough...”
“Damn it! I had no idea you were going through this. I can’t believe he treated you so stupidly!”
“You don’t need to be jealous of him, Y/N. Why he will never compare to you, I now realize. You noticed the little details about me, like when I painted my nails, did my hair or changed my lipstick. Now i think I was very blind in not realizing before that you liked me!”
“Saying it like that makes it seem like I really made everything very obvious” he said, placing both hands on his face to hide it, embarrassed.
“Don’t run away now, little boy!” Joy took his hands away from his face. “If you want, we can allow ourselves to try.”
“What about him? Is it really over?”
“Tomorrow morning, I’m going to his house to pick up my things. I never want to see him again.” Joy placed her soft hand on Y/N’s face; he could feel the softness and warmth that her skin emanated.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, strangely polite.
“Please!”
They brought their faces closer and their lips touched, almost embarrassed, but soon they found their own rhythm and things intensified; their tongues were already dancing together. Y/N had his hand on Joy’s leg, his fingers between the fabric of the shorts and the ballet tights. She seemed so surrendered at that moment, and all he wanted was to have her in his arms, holding her tighter and tighter, as if she would regret what she had done and run away from there. A silly delirium, because Joy had her arms around his neck, and she herself was the one pressing Y/N’s face against hers. In love.
“It was good?” She asked.
“I don’t even dare to describe it. Tell me you’re going to sleep here.”
“It would be amazing. But don’t expect anything other than falling asleep together; honestly, I’m still not feeling very well.”
“No problem. I just want to have you here with me.”
“Thank you, Y/N. You don’t know, but i was forced to have sex with him whenever he felt like it, no matter how tired or unwell I said I was. But I guess I shouldn’t be talking about that now, right? I’m ruining things.”
Y/N realized that there was a deep emotional wound in Joy, which perhaps took time to heal and this also tore him apart, as he always saw her smiling, laughing, supporting her friends and even making some silly pranks. Above all, caring about everyone around her, except herself, apparently.
“You’re not ruining anything! And you don’t need to thank me for something that should be the least of my part.”
He hugged Joy, she leaned her head on his shoulder, and they remained that way for a while, until he asked:
“How about you take a shower and change your clothes? You must be tired. Did you eat anything after you left the studio?”
“I haven’t eaten anything yet. I’m starving.”
“Go take a shower. I’ll get you something to wear and then we can order something to eat.”
“Thanks.” For a moment, it looked like Joy was going to say something else, instead she just kissed him on the cheek and went into the bathroom.
After showering, Joy wore the clothes that Y/N had lent her, which were basically cotton shorts and a Muse t-shirt. Then suddenly, she appeared in the room saying:
“What’s up, bro? What’s for dinner tonight, dude? I’m so hungry!”
“Hey, did you happen to see that pretty girl who went to the bathroom?”
“I didn't see any girls. But what do you say we make a little mess before this girl shows up, huh? You know what I mean, bro?”
"Okay, I'm starting to get intimidated."
She jumped onto the couch, laughing.
“These clothes are very comfortable; thank you.”
“I'm glad you liked it. Hey how about we eat chop-suey?”
“You are wise as a king.”
He ordered the food.
Sitting on the sofa, Y/N asked:
“What do you think people will think of this?”
“Do you mean: 'we' together?”
“Exactly.”
Joy lay down on the sofa and rested her head on Y/N’s lap.
“Seulgi will like it, I believe. She was the only person I told what was really happening in my relationship. She was the one who encouraged me to break up.”
“Seulgi was a tremendous angel! I miss her too. You didn’t deserve to go through all this shit. But I’m glad it’s over. I mean, I hope so.”
“I need to let go of some insecurities. He told me cruel things, which were backed up by my own mother. You know my mother was also a ballerina, and they can be quite inhumane sometimes.”
“Let’s take care of one wound at a time. Together.”
She smiled and slowly closed her eyes. There were dark circles under Joy’s eyes, so he knew she was indeed tired.
“It wasn’t in my plans to say I love you today” she confessed. “But I think I love you, Y/N.”
“I have always loved you, Joy. And from now on, I will take care of you with kindness and love, the way you deserve. I hope to prove this to you over time.”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me” she whispered. “I already know this because whenever I’m by your side, I feel peace.”
Hearing this made him find a little courage to also be sincere about some shit.
“After the shit that happened in the bar, I created my own prison and stayed in it for four months. Terribly lonely. Work was my escape valve. After a while, I started to think it was better to stay in the dark, since the lights distorted everything around me. It was nothing more than shine; It always gave me a headache."
“I’m sorry you had to face this seclusion. But I finally came, we won't feel alone anymore.”
He stroked her hair slowly. Time was no longer his enemy.
“And one day we can say ‘fuck you’ to the past.” Y/N stated, he seemed determined.
“I can hardly wait for that day....." She broke into a smile when she thought about it. "Wow! It means I'm your Joy now, right?
Her eyes were still closed when a tear fell.
“Yes, you are my Joy now. I think you always have been, since the day we met, since the first smile you gave me.”
Another tear, this one Y/N captured softly with his thumb.
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Three months had passed. It was the rainy season in the city, and the days were shrouded in bone-chilling cold. That night, torrential rain had been pouring down without respite since the end of the afternoon. Everyone completed what they had to complete as soon as possible to return to their respective homes.
Bad luck to those who had to be on the street.
Joy was with the last child, waiting for her parents at the ballet studio. The rain was delaying all traffic, so it was not uncommon for some girls to stay until a little later, waiting for their parents. For the teacher, it was no bother at all. Finally, a black car that looked very expensive stopped in front of the studio and honked loudly. The little girl said goodbye to Joy and ran through the rain to the vehicle. Joy was now free to go home. She put a coat over her ballet outfit and walked around the studio, turning off all the lights. The establishment wasn’t hers; she worked with two other teachers, and there was an old retired dancer who was the owner behind everything. The fact that she was still there was for the simple reason that Joy was the only person among the studio’s employees who lived in that neighborhood, so it was no problem to stay a little later with the children whose parents were late picking them up and finally close the studio. After turning off all the lights, she took her umbrella and locked the main door.
There was a guy leaning against a light pole next to the dance studio wearing a dark raincoat with a hood. It was a pretty ridiculous piece of clothing, to be honest. Joy found that person strange for a moment and approached, slightly suspicious. After getting close enough to see his face, she said:
“Y/N!” And Joy smiled, excited. “I thought you couldn’t come today!”
“I finished the report early. I decided to come and get you. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t walk the streets alone...”
She laughed. Joy really thought that sleazy accent that Y/N used when she wanted to say corny things was funny.
“Pretty? I look like a bird that fell out of its nest! Can you believe I was able to sweat a lot even in this cold?”
“Big Deal! Can you believe I was drinking hot coffee in my room, completely protected from the cold, while I finished writing some shit sitting in an extremely comfortable chair?”
“Jesus Christ! What would society be without men and their hard work?” she joked.
“Isn’t it? You couldn’t last a day in my shoes.”
““I don’t even want to think about it!” She grabbed his right bicep. “Luckily I have my strong and fearless provider.”
“Oh, Really? Well, i hope you introduce me to him someday. Anyway, I was thinking about taking you for a walk before we go home, are you up for it?”
“In this rain?”
“Since when are you made of sugar?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“First let’s drink some coffee. Then I’ll take you to a certain place so we can do something.”
“I thought you already drank while working hard on the computer.”
“I can make that sacrifice again.”
“And you still wonder why you have insomnia...”
The devil knew how much Joy needed a coffee too, so the two walked together down the deserted sidewalk.
At the coffee shop, Y/N ordered an espresso and a cupcake, he loved the combination of a bitter drink with something sweet. Joy ordered a cappuccino and a croissant.
“We've been living together for three months now.” He commented sitting at the table.
“I don’t know if we can call this ‘living together’.”
“You spend several days in a row at my house, so my house is a little like yours too.”
“If you think so” And she continued to eat the croissant.
“What if we make it official soon?”
“Are you talking about me living with you?”
“Exactly! It’s a good house. Spacious. We can receive our friends without any worries. It’s close to your work... I see no reason why it wouldn’t happen”
“Where is my toothbrush now?”
Y/N found the question strange but replied:
“At home. In my bathroom. Next to my toothbrush.”
She looked at him with her eyes shining, and Y/N could see that she was happy.
“So that’s it.” Joy tried to suppress her smile by drinking some of her coffee.
“Serious?!” Y/N asked so loudly that the people sitting at the tables around them looked at them.
“Sure! And speak more quietly, please.”
“Sorry” He laughed. “I’m fucking happy, that’s all.”
“I’m happy too.”
“I could scream right now for everyone here to hear.”
“Oh my gosh... don’t even think about it!
“Do you doubt it?! Are you doubting my love for you?!”
He started to get up.
“No, no! I don't doubt it! I know you love me, but I will die of embarrassment if you scream!” She tried to explain, desperate.
Y/N returned to his chair and laughed until tears came out of his eyes.
Walking and walking in the rain once again. Y/N stopped with Joy in front of the shopping mall that rose like a titan, casting dazzling lights across the square. They entered and noticed that most of the stores were already closed. Joy said:
“I think you came a little late to buy your underwear. By the way, you could do it without me.”
“Look, this weekend I’m going to sign you up for a stand-up comedy show for beginners so you can tell your jokes on stage, what do you think? No, what I want to show you is there on the third floor.”
“I just hope it’s not a wedding thing.”
“Do people still get married?”
They got into the elevator and went to the third floor. Looking at the mirror that was there, Y/N noticed how ridiculous he looked in that raincoat. Joy made fun of him by saying he looked like a trash bag.
“I’m really going to sign you up for a stand-up comedy show” he reaffirmed. “Just know that this raincoat is all the rage in Japan!”
“And what are the chances that the salesman told the truth?”
Y/N was silent.
The third floor was almost empty. He took Joy to the toys and games area, which was partially closed, but the lights were still on. She looked surprised. Not in a positive way.
“Arcade? We could have played video games at home.” She said.
“Mr. Miyagi used to say that the eyes are only capable of seeing a third of the truth. You have to look with your heart, too. Joy, you should learn a thing or two from him.”
“I never saw the movie but I know he never said that.”
“Take off your coat and come with me.” He asked, and then ran to the arcade.
“Hey, wait a minute!” She followed him, unbuttoning her coat.
Y/N stopped at the end of a narrow corridor between pinball tables and shooting games. Joy still hadn’t understood what the hell he was doing until she guided her eyes to where he was pointing, and there it was: an old, faded photo booth. That’s what he's wanted all along. Analog photos. Well, that was cute; she couldn’t deny it.
“Would you agree to take some photos with me?" He asked kneeling.
Joy extended her hand to him.
"It will be a pleasure."
Y/N smiled at her. He never got tired of admiring how beautiful she looked in a ballet uniform. They entered the machine together. Joy sat on his lap and put an arm around her neck.
“Money in banknotes?!” He questioned in awe. “The last time I got into some shit like that, it was coins.”
“The machine may be analog, but the company that built it certainly keeps up with inflation.”
“Anyway, let’s go!”
Y/N put his money in the booth and pressed the button, waiting for the first photo to be taken. Then came the flash, which caught him off guard. “You blinked!” she said. “The photo will be funny.” More flashes, and also more poses. They put on a tough face for the camera, then they smiled with their cheeks touching, then they made the ugliest faces they could, and finally they kissed.
The booth complied with the deal and spat out the roll of photos. They analyzed it together and, with the exception of the first image (the one where Y/N had blinked his eyes), all the photographs were great.
“I really liked this surprise. It will be a good memory. I think simple days also need to be remembered.” Joy commented in the elevator.
“I was afraid it would look silly. But I’ve wanted to take photos like these with you for a long time. We can make a mini-album or something. I don’t know, in my mind, it’s kind of special.”
“Mr. Miyagi used to say that when something is special in your mind, it is because it is also very special in your heart. You should learn a thing or two from him…”
“Oh, come on...”
Joy couldn't contain her laughter. Seeing her like that warmed his heart.
“Look, seriously now: i think the photos and the other things we’ll do will make the past a little better when we look back in the future.”
“A new past.” His voice sounded ethereal.
Yeah, a new past! But our hearts must stay in the present. Ever.”
Joy gave him a hug. He hugged her back, and they stayed like that as the elevator descended to the first floor. He wished simple days were always like this.
At home, a hot shower was more than enough to banish the cold they felt while on the streets. He was lying in bed looking at those photos again. They were really good, he concluded, and the record seemed to positively signal an important moment in their lives, after all, the photos were taken on the day she agreed to live with him permanently. And this might even seem strange since the formal dating request had not yet been made. But, well, fuck conventions. They were a couple, and the dating proposal would be made soon.
When she was ready.
Y/N was so far away in his thoughts that he didn’t notice when Joy had come out of the bathroom, standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful pink slinky nightie that adjusted to the curves of her body.
“Joy...?”
“I bought it a while ago, when I was still dating, you know who, but I never had the courage to use it. Not after he talked about me being fat.”
“You’re not fat. And even if he was, fuck them all with their shitty opinions.”
“You made me feel comfortable wearing that slinky nightie again.”
“I did nothing. You realized how beautiful you are on your own.”
Joy approached slowly. So beautiful, so sensual, like paradise. She sat on the edge of the bed and said:
“Thank you for caring about me, baby. I've been smiling to the point that I've created expression marks on my face since I started staying here with you."
“You’d be surprised how easy it is. And these marks... look good on you."
Y/N noticed that her cheeks were softly flushed.
“I feel ready now.”
“Are you sure?"
“I have never been as sure as I am now. You are my man. I'm your-”
“Joy” he completed.
She crawled onto the bed like a feline.
They find themselves in a fiery embrace, their bodies melting into an ember of insatiable desire. Each touch was a discovery, an exploration of carnal pleasure imbued with true feeling. Precious like a diamond. Y/N’s lips traced a path of fire down Joy’s neck, leaving a trail of heat that burned on her delicate skin. As he lowered the strap of Joy’s slinky nightie, his fingers trembled with excitement, eager to touch the soft, inviting skin that was revealed just to him. It was the longing for love combusting.
Laying Joy on the bed, Y/N immersed his head in the delight of her tits, exploring each curve with fervent devotion. His lips found Joy’s nipples, eliciting moans of pleasure that echoed through the room, while his hands explored every inch of her body with palpable urgency.
Tracing a trail of kisses across Joy’s body, Y/N got closer and closer to his goal; he had a wild desire to taste her. Each kiss was like a promise of pleasure, an anticipation of what was to come. Joy writhed beneath his skillful touches, her moans filling the night air as she gave herself over completely to the heat of the moment.
And then, finally, Y/N put his head between Joy’s legs. With a decisive look, he plunged his tongue into the source of her desire, savoring every drop of forbidden nectar that she was barely dripping with. It was a scene of ecstasy and abandonment to reason, a total surrender to the desire that consumed them. Joy gripped the sheets, her moans of pleasure mixing with the sound of the night rain as she lost herself in the waves of pleasure that took her to the edge. The senses were heightened, an eternal moment, the words sounded alive when she announced that she was going to cum. Y/N got goosebumps. He never imagined that words could make him so excited. Then her delicious honey dripped into his mouth.
“I want to feel you inside me.” She murmured after recovering from her first true orgasm.
Y/N took off his boxer shorts in an instant. She saw how hard his dick was as he opened the rubber package.
That would be the two’s first time together. Hungry with desire, he didn’t hesitate as he pushed his latejante cock into Joy’s hot, wet vagina, both of them writhing with pleasure on the messy bed, fucking in missionary position. Each thrust was a frenzied thrust, their bodies slamming together in a wild rhythm. Their eyes met in a mix of lust and love, while their mouths locked in voracious kisses, moans escaping their lips as they gave in to passion.
Joy, feeling taken by her impulses of domination, mounted him, guiding his hard cock inside her with an agile movement of her hips. Her boobs swayed freely with the rhythm of her riding, inviting Y/N to grab and caress them with his warm hands. Each movement of her hips is a thrust, an explosion of pleasure, their sweaty bodies moving in perfect harmony as she leans in to kiss him without ever stopping the flow of her hips.
Y/N grabs Joy by the waist and puts her on all fours, exposing her temptingly pert ass in front of him. Without hesitation, he thrusts into her hard, their bodies slamming together in a wild frenzy. Each thrust is deep and relentless. Moans of pleasure echo throughout the room, mixing with the sound of skin hitting skin.
“oh fuck, i’m gonna cum!” he said between moans.
Joy got out of bed and got on her knees before he even asked. She was thirsty for it. She took off the rubber and wrapped Y/N’s throbbing cock in her fleshy lips with an insatiable hunger, determined to explore every inch of that source of pleasure that rose hard just for her. Joy’s eyes sparkled with devotion as she immersed herself in the task, making extremely erotic eye contact. Her tongue, skillful and thirsty, traced circles around the pulsing red glans of his cock, exploring every groove and vein with an almost scientific meticulousness. She savored every drop of precum that came out as her skilled hands gently caressed and squeezed his balls. With rehearsed dexterity, she slid her lips to the base, swallowing him with a voracity that made Y/N moan loudly. With each upward movement, Joy sucked with insatiable ferocity, sending waves of pleasure through his body. Every inch of his cock was explored and devoured, as if she were determined to extract every last drop of pleasure he could offer. And when finally Y/N could no longer contain the impending explosion, Joy intensified her efforts, sucking with an insatiable intensity until he could no longer hold back, flooding her mouth with warm milky cum, which Joy swallowed without wasting a single drop.
FOLLOWING DAY
It had already become part of her routine to wake up alone in bed. Fortunately, the noises from the kitchen were welcoming to her ears. Joy got out of bed wrapped in the comforter. The morning was rainy (what a surprise).
There he was, by the stove, finishing what looked like scrambled eggs.
“Good morning” she said, sitting down at the table.
“Good morning, baby. Are you hungry?”
“Oh dear, I could eat an elephant!”
“I prepared toast, scrambled eggs, coffee and there’s cheese and ham if you want a sandwich.”
“You are so divine!”
“Thanks. By the way, could you get the milk for me?”
“Obvious.”
Joy got up and went to the fridge. When she opened the door and took the bottle of milk, she noticed that there was a small square box at the bottom of the fridge.
“What is that?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Why don’t you open it and find out?”
“Oh, Y/N! It’s not what I’m thinking, is it…?”
She couldn’t control the shaking of her hands. When he lifted the lid of the box, two rings sparkled.
“Will you agree to date me? My strategy was to persuade you with the help of drowsiness. It worked?”
“Shit, it worked great!” She started to laugh nervously. Then came the crying.
Y/N helped Joy. He took one of the rings and put it on her right ring finger; she did the same with it.
“These are our dating rings.” He told. "I know putting this in the fridge isn't the best of surprises, but you don't have a very creative guy on your side."
“It was unusual, but cute. I bet I'm the only one who opened the fridge to get some milk and ended up getting a dating ring. When I saw this ring box, God... for a second, I thought they were wedding rings!”
“I love you, but I also know how to take it easy.” He joked.
“I loved it. Thank you, Y/N.”
The morning remained cold, wet and impetuous, but, believe it or not, towards the end of the afternoon, a blessing occurred. The sun rose for a few moments and shone benevolently, and a couple who were now breathing in unity were able to contemplate it, and despite being in different places when this happened, their minds came together in a single thought: what a joy it was to be alive.
END
[A/N: I know for some people reading this the "dating ring" thing might seem weird. But in my culture it's something relatively common, and I only knew it was a cultural thing when I finished writing the smut. I decided to keep this detail because, idk, i think it's kinda a cute thing, although some people find it bizarre and associate with being possessive cause they have a severe perception about rings in relationships.
But this is nothing more than a simple silver plated ring that symbolizes a serious relationship. Common among young couples.
Well that's it. Keep your mind open and thanks for reading 🔥
I was a little inspired by this song:
youtube
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kakushino · 10 months
Text
Burden... or asset?
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Uzui Tengen x Fem! Reader
Tengen recieves a crow telling him some bad news.
Tags: angst, self-worth issues, fluff, orgy, aftercare, sub reader, sub Makio, soft dom Hinatsuru, mean-ish dom Suma Word count: 14,2k
Masterlist | Part 1
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A crow came flying just as you were leaving the estate for your date. The grimace on Tengen's face signified bad news arrived, a slip of paper in his hands.
"What is it?"
"My… best buddy is in the Butterfly Mansion. Run-in with an Upper Moon."
Since you came back, he'd told you all about his current occupation and standing in the corps. It was fascinating. You’d been removed from the so-called ‘world news’ due to your Mission, so it all came as a surprise. It was also curious how you’d never run into a demon before. 
“We can cancel our date. You must be worried…” you offered, taking his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Tengen still looked torn. “If you want, I can go with you?” 
And so, your time together was cut short - he took you in his arms and rushed off with an urgency you hadn’t seen since you came home.
The room in Butterfly mansion was decorated with origami cranes; there was a vase with fresh flowers at the bedside. The man, who you came to see, laid on the sick bed and had hair like dancing flames, though partially hidden by bandages. The whole room might have smelled like disinfectant but the overall feel of it was homey, cozy, lived-in; a very colorful display - flashy and flamboyant.
“Well, well, well - look at you. The white of the bandages does bring out your eyes. Maybe you should wear them more often,” Tengen said in a teasing tone, voice a little thick despite his bravado. 
His best buddy smiled broadly. “That’s why I wore the white haori, Tengen. It has always flattered us Rengoku men, hasn’t it?” The volume of his speech could barely count as an inside voice; it reminded you a little of your half-deaf grandma, back when she was alive. Perhaps he’d sustained an injury of sorts… 
You would be the last person to judge him for that.
Tengen sat heavily on the chair next to his bed as if he carried a crushing burden on his back, while you lingered a few feet behind him, feeling like you shouldn’t be here.
“I’m glad you’re alive. I came as soon as I heard… Though you left for that Train over a week ago. What delayed the news?” 
“Shinobu told only my father and brother at first, said I needed the quiet and space - even though I was unconscious! Though apparently, that was pretty bad!” he smiled brightly, as if he weren't in critical condition just a few days prior. The bandage over his eye, half his head and torso down to his abdomen sounded more than pretty bad to you. “Senjuro came to visit me while I was out of it… Though I wish he didn’t have to see me in such a pitiful state.”
Tengen huffed in amusement, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You are certainly a sore sight for my flamboyant eyes, Kyojuro.” The movement revealed your form to the injured man.
He glanced towards you. “And who is this beautiful lady with you?”
Tengen smiled brightly. "Right - Kyojuro, this is Uzui [Name], my first wife. [Name], this is Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame Hashira."
"Ex," Kyojuro interrupted. "I guess I was hurt pretty badly! Shinobu told me I'm no longer in any fighting condition." 
You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, for it was a question you, yourself, were struggling with. "What will you do now? If you don't mind me asking…" What will I do? How can I channel my energy? 
“[Name],” Tengen turned to you, eyes narrowed. He seemed displeased with your question, as if he weren’t wondering the same thing in his mind.
Kyojuro smiled brightly, completely at ease despite your intrusive question. "Why, I’ll do as all retired Hashira do - train new slayers. Perhaps I shall find an inheritor of Flame Breathing as well!" The optimism this man had was unreal.
The conversation faded into a background noise. Train new slayers, he said. You didn’t want to train new shinobi. You’d thought about getting into wifely hobbies, but that only filled your idle hands; not your mind nor stamina nor skills were being put to use, and it was frustrating to say the least. You itched for some action, despite what had happened during your last so-called action.
“-be discharged in about two weeks. Shinobu is assigning a nurse for me until I’m all healed up! And Senjuro will keep me company as well!” The loud and enthusiastic voice of the retired Hashira broke through your thoughts at last.
Tengen glanced at you for a moment, before he faced Kyojuro. “[Name] could help out too. I’ll be going on a mission soon.”
You shot him a sharp look. This was news to you. And rude to offer your company without consulting you first.
“My other wives haven’t sent any messages the past week. Something must have happened, and I need to find out what,” he said in a hush, all traces of good mood gone from his face. 
Your heart clenched. He was willing to go for the others when he lost contact. He didn’t just simply assume they were lost. You weren’t sure how you wanted to think about this, how to feel about this. You buried your emotions before they had the chance to surface.
“I see. That is important indeed. Wouldn’t it be better if you took [Name] along though?” Kyojuro looked at you, tilting his head slightly. “You both could work together to collect your wives! Like a date! But a bit more dangerous.”
You pressed your lips together tightly. That was a good question. Why did he not want to take you with him? You’d gained back the lost weight and filled out to your previous body shape. You’d kept up a light work-out regime to get back where you were before the last grueling months at the Mission. Did he not trust your skills anymore? You clenched your fists.
Tengen shook his head, the beads on his headband clinking together. “It would be better for her to stay. My wives were investigating an Upper Moon sighting in an entertainment district. Losing contact is more than bad news.” 
Why was he talking as if you weren’t there? You weren't just a breeze, nor were you a doll to be set aside when inconvenient nor were you a painting, to be displayed and kept at home. You were a warrior - a warrior who had the same amount of experience as him. How dare he?
“I’m here, you know? You could have just turned to me and asked. If it’s a red district then my aid would be more valuable - especially to find out about Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio’s whereabouts,” you finally spoke up, your voice flat. “If you remember, my skills lie in espionage, Tengen.” 
There was a slight flush on his ears at your scolding. “You’ve never fought demons before, and that’s why you’ll stay and help out Kyojuro. I’ve got things handled.” 
"I'm not made of glass. If those three can help you, why can't I?" 
"Of course I know you're not made of glass. May I remind you glass wouldn't be able to take my co-"
"Stop," you interrupted Tengen, your face feeling hot. Kyojuro had been watching the two of you escalate the argument, lone eye going back and forth as if he were watching children play with a temari ball. "First of all, this is no time to joke around. Your wives are in danger, our wives-" You were still a little mad he'd gone through a mutually binding sort of marriage, making you the wife of Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio as well. "Second, you know me, you know my skills. You know I can help and that I'm willing to help, despite what happened when I came back-"
"That's a low blow and you know it. I thought you were dead. You forgave me alrea-"
"Shut up while I'm talking, Tengen!" Your chest heaved with your rapid breathing, anger nearly taking over.
Your husband was in no better condition; he used his size to loom over you, trying to intimidate you into submission. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, somewhat more intense than usual. His eyes were slightly lidded but his expression impassive; it was hard to tell if he was aroused, as he used to when you were having an argument in your teenage years, or truly angry.
“You can’t just put me on a shelf like a pretty housewife. You need my help. Admit it-” 
“You’re staying and that’s final!” Tengen suddenly shouted, making you flinch. You took a quick step back from him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched, muscles tensed. “You’d be nothing but a burden.” 
You froze, breath stuttering in your chest. 
He sidestepped you and left the room. 
Nothing but a burden.
You’d been nothing but a burden since you reappeared in his life, haven’t you? You crushed his heart, destroyed his home, and you had yet to prove you were worth the complications arising from your presence. 
So despite his continuous reassurances, this was how he truly felt…
“[Name]?” 
You looked at Kyojuro, his worried expression saying it all. “I’m alright, I just-” your voice broke and you wiped your tears quickly. You hadn’t even noticed when they started falling. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.” 
He waved you off with a dim smile. “You’re absolutely fine. It’s my first time seeing my best buddy like this, but all I can say is that it’s not your fault. It was me who stoked the flames when I should have left the matter be, and for that I deeply apologize. If I could, I’d bow to you.” Kyojuro laughed awkwardly before wincing and putting a hand on his abdomen.
All thoughts of Tengen flew out of your head as you stepped closer. “Hey, hey, easy… I think you shouldn’t laugh until that wound is all healed up.” Your belly scar throbbed at the thought of what the former pillar is going through. “Do you need me to call a nurse? Do you need any painkillers?” you fussed over him, sympathizing deeply with his pain.
A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face as he grimaced. “I think I’m fine. I just need to Breathe a little… Would you keep me company in the meantime?” He gestured to the chair right by his bed.
You hesitantly sat down. "Alright, Rengoku-san."
His smile made you feel at ease. "Excellent. Let me tell you about that one time Tengen and I…."
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Tengen left. 
He left you there with Kyojuro and went on the mission in the same breath. It hurt more than perhaps his words.
Nothing but a burden.
“Good afternoon, Rengoku-san,” you greeted the man with a smile. 
“Good afternoon, Uzui-chan!” he beamed at you. “The Gods have given us the best kind of weather to walk home in, wouldn’t you agree?”
Your mind flashed to the wagon you would be transporting him in. A walk, right… You were given instructions by Shinobu to sedate him if need be. “That is true, and please, call me [Name].”
Kyojuro was already slowly shuffling out of the covers. “Then you may call me by my given name as well! I’m so excited to get home.” His wide smile was infectious, the black eye-patch doing nothing to diminish his bright expression.
Warmth spread through your chest as you helped him to his feet. Kyojuro was such a positive soul; despite your dark thoughts, you never felt lesser with him. You would love to become his close friend, if he’d let you.
“Alright, let’s get you to the cart. Aoi and the girls already packed up all the origami and dried flowers you wanted with you.” You supported him as you walked through the halls of the Butterfly mansion.
“Thanks, for everything. Your presence during my days of recovery cured me of my boredom,” he said quietly, surprising you that he even knew how to talk in such low tones. Perhaps he realized shouting nearby sick rooms of other patients was not polite.
“It was no problem. I enjoyed my time with you.” You two walked out of the mansion. He leaned against a wooden pillar as you knelt at his feet to put on his sandals. 
“I apologize you have to serve me like this.” Kyojuro seemed embarrassed. 
You shook your head with a smile. “It’s quite alright. Soon enough, you’ll be able to do it yourself!” You tried to be as positive as he was, making him smile slightly. “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you looked at him shyly, face feeling hot.
Kyojuro just beamed at you. “Good thing you’re the kind of friend who helps instead, hm?”
Relief flooded your lungs, allowing you to take a deep breath. “Of course! Now let’s get you home!”
Pushing the cart loaded with a recovering Hashira and thousands of colorful stuff he wanted with him was quite the work-out you haven’t anticipated. The kakushi responsible for such had been called away on an urgent clean-up of a battle scene, and Shinobu personally asked you to do it, so you couldn’t refuse. At least he kept up a pleasant conversation on the way to the Rengoku estate.
A mini-version of Kyojuro was sweeping by the gate when you arrived. You tilted your head, studying him.
“Little brother!” 
The boy looked up and smiled brightly, quickly running over, letting go of the broom. “Big brother!” He clutched at the side of the wagon, glancing over the bandages Kyojuro still wore around his torso. “Father wouldn’t let me go see you since you woke up.”
Kyojuro’s smile was like the Sun, if you looked for too long, your eyes would tear up. You had to turn away from the intimate scene, one you weren’t worthy to witness. Why were you even there? 
"Senjuro, this is [Name], Tengen's wife. [Name], meet my younger brother, Senjuro," Kyojuro drew your attention back, as if sensing you felt left out.
Senjuro bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kyojuro’s younger brother. Thank you for bringing him home.”
"Why don't you come in for a while? You need rest after such a long journey," Kyojuro offered, already trying to get out of the wagon unassisted, prompting you to move forward to help.
You smiled. “Okay, but only for a little.”
The day wore on, pleasant conversation lulling time into a background blur as you got to know both young men more. Tea was served, then dinner. Your belly hurt from laughter, and your cheeks might as well have been stuck in a permanent grin. 
Golden light washed over all three of you as you sat by the engawa, the two little Suns with you glowing in the true setting star. 
"Might as well stay the night. The road to Uzui home is long." 
Senjuro brightened at the suggestion. “Yes, stay with us! I’ll go prepare a room for you, big sis!” He ran off too quickly for you to react to the bomb he dropped on you. Big sis was a name you’d never heard in your life, yet it made blood rush to your face as Kyojuro laughed, clutching at his stomach immediately after as pain flared from his wound.
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Analyze the situation, as you were taught to do while being a shinobi - a kunoichi. Yet you could not take a step back from the emotional turmoil in the stuffy room you were given, and so the full moon saw you sitting on the engawa of the Rengoku estate, nothing and everything flitting through your mind’s eye.
You were alone.
The night felt cold, as if you could never see the Sun again. 
Light breeze fluffed your hair, calming the whirlwind within for scarcely a second. 
A door slid open. The light clack of a cane told you who exactly it was.
“You’re supposed to be resting, Kyojuro-san,” you murmured, not looking at him.
“I’m not that old to be resting all the time, [Name]-san.” You could nearly hear the grin in his voice. A heavy grunt accompanied his warmth appearing at your side. 
“Well, you are still healing. And you might pull a muscle or something.” A smile appeared on your face, the banter distracting you a little. 
“Oh, you just know how to kick a man while he’s down.” Kyojuro chuckled, the deep sound reverberating in your bones. “I don’t deserve your teasing, you know?”
“...that is true.” Your smile dimmed a little. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so familiar with him. He was your husband’s best friend, though Kyojuro made you feel so comfortable, so warm - something you didn’t deserve to be, especially when Tengen was out there, in danger, alone.
He was on a hunt for an Upper Moon demon. And you were there sitting on the engawa, doing nothing - when you could have been there, helping.
Nothing but a burden.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Kyojuro-san. I want to be an asset,” you confessed, staring into the darkness, so alike to the one you held inside your heart. You wanted to be cleansed, to be free at last.
And he knew just how to help you. “You know, the next Final Selection is in a week.” Kyojuro grinned. “It would usually be impossible for a normal participant to get ready in a week… You were a shinobi though, weren’t you? Do you know how to wield a blade?”
You nodded eagerly, your hair falling into your face.
“Sit with me then, I will teach you all there is to know about Total Concentration Breathing, [Name].”
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“When did you intend to tell us you had a wife before us?” Suma asked, as gently as she could, after exchanging so many glances with the other two as they walked to the Butterfly estate.
The question shouldn’t have caught him off guard; he was actually surprised they didn’t press when [Name] had arrived back into his life, but now wasn’t the time to press this issue. He was dying from demon’s poison not an hour ago, he was exhausted, and Obanai’s late arrival did nothing to alleviate his bad mood. 
“I was going to tell you…” Tengen sighed. “I was going to tell you once it stopped hurting.” His heart clenched at the thought of her gone, disappeared, dea- “I didn’t know she’d come back.” He faced the sky, the sun too bright against his lone eye - he now matched with his best buddy, he thought wryly - trying to swallow back his tears. 
He didn’t deserve to cry about this, about her. He’d doomed her before he confirmed it himself. In a way, he had tried to redeem himself by how he treated his new wives, but he now saw the error of his ways. No amount of- whatever he was doing right now could have erased his guilt now that he knew she was alive all along. And that hurt more than anything.
The thought that he failed her destroyed him on the inside. Each day he saw her after she came back was agony. When she showed him her scars, he wanted to die, to rip his heart out of his chest and offer it, still beating, as compensation for the horrors she had to live through. And yet… it would not be enough, it would never be enough.
“Tengen-sama…” came Hina’s soothing voice. “We understand it must have been painful, but now that she is here, we need to know more.” 
There was a lump in his throat, making it hard to swallow past the emotions and memories resurfacing. Tears pooled in both his eyes, making him wince when the salty liquid touched the wound on his left one. All that ran through his mind when the pain registered was that it was just a fraction of what she felt while she was away on that Gods forsaken Mission.
“We’d met when we were thirteen… still kids but you know how it is in the shinobi world,” he started hoarsely. “It wasn’t long before we started to fall… I saved up all my money and bought the mansion we live in to this day.” 
There is one room you can’t enter, under any circumstances, okay?
It was her room, all three realized at the same time, sharing looks.
“It was foolish of us to marry, but I would have done it again. The short time we were truly together was worth it… She was actually engaged when we did it. Forbidden love at its finest.” Tengen’s eye glazed over as he stared ahead, lost in what used to be. He had been happy, both of them had been so happy despite the circumstances. They talked about starting a family, about quitting the life of a shinobi, about running away and never looking back. That kind of thinking bit both of them in the ass very quickly. “Her family was more… displeased than mine. She’d been sent on a suicide mission, though at the time, I had no clue it was that. By the time I found out, she was gone, and I was alone.”
And yet, she’d done the impossible - she came back whole, in one piece, at least physically. [Name] had no reaction to the silk yukata he gave her though, and that bothered him deeply. The bolts of turtle shell patterned fabric had been his wedding gift to her, it had been their hope, their promise, to swathe their first child in it. After her disappearance, it laid abandoned in her room. He couldn’t bear to enter it for years upon years, grieving yet in denial. He wasn't able to fully accept her death, to even think about her at all without weeping like a child.
Perhaps it was fate then, that after young Kamado’s trial, he’d commissioned a seamstress to make a yukata out of the would-be child's fabric on a whim. He wanted to hang it up, decorate the bedroom with it - a reminder and a remembrance, a threat and a promise, to never let any of his wives slip through his fingers like water. 
Tengen was blessed though, with your life, he was blessed and he-
Nothing but a burden.
He would never call himself an asshole - would have never called himself one - until you, until that, until he called you a burden.
Gods, he deserved death for that. He never should have uttered those words. How hard he tried to reassure you, to ease you back into being home, to let you slide into comfort and abandon the high-alertness that came with any mission; night terrors woke the both of you in the silence of many dark nights - memories, would-bes, and thoughts plaguing the conscious and unconscious hours of your days.
Tengen had called you nothing but a burden, the words weighing him down now, making him stop and stare into nothingness, a chasm opening in his chest at the realization that no amount of comfort could have prepared you for this, he'd hurt you, broke your trust yet again, using your insecurities against you. 
He had no excuse - sans one. He was scared, driven mad by the thought of losing you again and this time - under his watch. He was worried he couldn't protect you as he had sworn all those years ago. 
And now he was the one who hurt you - the only person, who he couldn't protect you from, was himself.
Tengen was the God of Fuck ups, not Festivals.
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As shinobi, loyalty was situational; whoever paid the most got it, and whoever couldn’t pay got dealt with. 
As a slayer, your one and only loyalty was to humans. No demon should be allowed to live - minus Nezuko - and you planned to make good on those words. 
You walked out of the wisteria forest on the seventh day, exhausted, but victorious. You’d been worried about it, since Tengen made even the lowest of demons out to be strong enough to rip you to shreds. That proved to be true - for most humans. You saw a few fresh blood puddles of where the other participants used to be throughout the week. All you could do was offer a quick and silent prayer and move on. The demons you yourself encountered were no match for your skill, though the borrowed half-nichirin half-iron wakizashi wasn’t your usual choice of weapon as a fighter, as a shinobi.
It was time to put such thoughts and memories behind you, move onto better and bigger things. 
This time around, ten people managed to pass the Final Selection, including you, though you were by far the oldest. That was fine. Even if you spent only a year, a month, a week before you perished in the line of duty, even if you helped only one person, it was worth it. Suffering was worth it.
It was atonement for a lifetime of dirty deeds under the mantle of the title Shinobi. The whole weight of it was on your back, nearly breaking your spine. But you would endure. That's what's owed to humanity after you tainted it with your deeds in the dark.
Another side of you whispered, you’re still as black as you were before, you can’t find salvation, you are selfish to the core. 
And the side was right.
Because your motivation didn’t lie entirely in saving humans, it laid in proving your husband wrong, in showing him you were an asset, never a burden.
You wanted to stand by his side and take on missions together - like how it was always meant to be. Tengen and you, against the world.
“Welcome home, dear student.” Kyojuro’s greeting warmed you to the marrow of your bones. 
“I’m home, master.” You grinned at him, and limped over to give him a hug, neither of you minding the dirt and stink of the road. 
“Congratulations on becoming a slayer. I’m proud of you.” 
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By the time your husband and wives were on their way back from Butterfly mansion, you had already stopped limping. You didn't stop training your Breathing in the meantime, trying to achieve using it non-stop as you waited for the arrival of your Nichirin sword.
The house was clean, snacks were prepared, and you found yourself sitting on the porch. Your stomach was full of butterflies, excited as you were to see Tengen again, though you were also a little nervous - you hoped Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru would grow to like you and for that, you needed to give a good impression.
You wore the silk yukata with a turtle shell pattern, an earthy green obi tying it together. You hoped you were flashy enough for everyone, though Tengen gave you the yukata so it must be flashy enough… Maybe you should have changed into something more colorful. 
Tengen’s laughter echoed down the road.
Fuck. It’s too late to change. Is my hair messy? Gods, I should have checked-
The gate opened and you shot to your feet, straightening out your yukata in a panic.
Wine red eyes- no, wine red eye stared back at you, an eyepatch covering the other one. Your breath was nearly knocked out of you as you took in your husband. You knew he’d lost his eye and his left hand but reading about it in a letter and seeing it in person were two entirely different things.
You couldn’t stop your legs as you nearly ran to him, jumping into his arms, clutching onto him tightly as tears fell and stained his yukata. You had thought about what you wanted to tell him once he came home, but now that he was here - your mind became blank. You couldn’t think of anything to say, not when he was there, his scent and warmth filling you up in a way air and food couldn’t.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes seemed like hours.
At last, you said, “Welcome home,” in a choked whisper as you calmed yourself a little.
“I’m home.” His voice was near silent; if you hadn’t been so close to him, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.
What a way to greet him after such a mission- Oh! You completely forgot about the wives!
You slowly pulled back, face feeling hot with shame when you took a step back, quickly wiping away your tears.
You bowed a little. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’m Uzui [Name]... your wife.” Your face was flushed and your hands trembled. “I hope we can get along.”
Suma was the first one to break; she nearly pounced on you, hugging you and swinging you around in a circle. You marveled at her strength as you held on for your life, laughing in delight. 
A deft hand flew over your head and hit Suma, who nearly immediately dropped you - the momentum making you stumble back into a warm pair of arms and a very soft chest. It was Hinatsuru who caught you. “Are you alright?”
You regained your bearing, pulling away. “Yes, thank you. Are they-” 
Makio was yelling at Suma, who was clinging to Tengen with crocodile tears streaming down her face. 
“Uhm, is this the Uzui residence?”
Like moths to a flame, all of you looked to the still-open gate, where a kakushi stood. They had a - your heart skipped a beat - covered katana on their back. 
You walked forward, smiling. “Yes, it is, kakushi-san.” You felt light, happy. Your Nichirin sword was finally here.
They bowed to you. “Uzui [Name], I presume?” They took the case off their back and presented it to you. 
Your hands shook a little when you slid the cloth off of the sword. The scabbard was black, the grip a burnt orange, the guard in the shape of a flame, reminiscent of the one Kyojuro used to have. Your smile widened, cheeks near burning from the stretch; he must have told his artisan to make it for you. 
It seemed the world held its breath for you as you drew the blade.
An ordinary steel greeted you before color bled into it, as if it were your blood fueling it. 
A dark gold reflected the rays of the sun before it hid behind a cloud. 
Your wives spewed congratulations after congratulations as you stared at your sword with joy. You felt as if you could soar. You laughed in delight as you sheathed the blade, hugging the kakushi, who blushed deeply underneath their mask, and then each of your wives. Happiness flowed in your veins, as golden as the sun, the flames, and the katana.
You Breathed fire. You were beautiful. You were powerful. You felt on top of the world, a goddess sent down to smite the evils of this world.
All this thanks to a single dark gold blade, your very own Nichirin sword.
Tengen could only stare at the scene in front of him, dazed.
He’d left you at home in hopes of saving you, of protecting you from danger he faced every day he went to hunt demons. The katana in your hand indicated he failed, and oh how miserably did he fail.
Did you do this to punish him? Is this your revenge? Retribution for the atrocity of taking more wives? 
Nothing but a burden.
Did you truly believe his words - the ones he so stupidly uttered in a moment of madness in that sick room? He didn’t mean them, he never meant them. He knew you were more than useful, you were an asset in every way and form imaginable. Tengen was just scared, so fucking scared of losing you - especially losing you under his watch when he’d just gotten you back. 
Fuck.
Did you… consider him unworthy of protecting you? Is that why you sought to become a slayer? To get your own blade and stand apart from him?
Was it a declaration of war on him?
Thousand men may die if so. He never, never meant for this to happen.
And Tengen would find no peace until he got to the bottom of this.
Raindrops fell one by one, creating a harmony of nature. A contrast to the whirlwind of emotions in his heart.
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The light drizzle of the afternoon evolved into a lightning storm by the time the sun hid behind the mountains. You were glad there was no tree close enough to attract the lightning or to fall on the Uzui house, or you were sure there would be a big problem on your hands.
The tea room you sat in had been unused for months, clearly, as you had to wipe off some dust off the low table before you could use it. The pillows were clean, which was a blessing. It wouldn’t be able to dry out in this weather.
Though the furniture was traditional, the decorations were not. A few western pieces hung on the walls and there was a small statue in the corner of a naked angel reaching out to the heavens. One painting in particular caught your eye. It was a woman sprawled on her belly over a chaise, book in hand and kicking her feet in the air, clearly enjoying herself. If you squinted, the woman resembled you, a little.
But that wasn’t right.
If you were a painting, you’d be damaged, torn open, paint cracked, and your price would be pain - a price no one wanted to pay.
The door slid open.
All three wives stood there, and Hinatsuru spoke first. “May we come in?” She gave you a small smile, reassuring. You nodded.
Suma squealed and skipped over to the low table, quickly sitting down on one of the cushions; Makio carefully balanced a tray with teapot and four cups, Hinatsuru closing the door after her.
“I heard Tengen left to sleep over at Kyojuro-san’s. Is that right?” you asked, watching them  all sit with you as Makio poured you a cup. The fragrance was slightly bitter, but you could easily identify it as mugicha, a barley tea meant to calm the mind. 
You could guess why they came to you.
“That’s right. We’ve got a Girls’ Night today!” Suma grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat. 
Makio gave her shoulder a light slap, “Shut up, let Hina speak, you idiot.”
“Hina~ Did you see? Did you see Makio slap me?” crocodile tears filled her eyes. 
Hinatsuru shot them both a look, making both of them quiet down. She turned to you. “[Name], we’ve talked to Tengen-sama earlier,” she started. Your hand clenched around your cup of tea as your chest grew tighter. “We all know the feeling of looking in the mirror and not being happy with the body we see there. We just want to show you that you aren’t alone, and that in this household, there is no judgment. This household includes you as well.” 
You stared at her in silence, in disbelief. You never thought they would be so bold as to approach you about this scarcely few hours after getting home, but on the other hand, it made sense. Tengen’s type wasn’t a shy maiden, even if it held a sort of appeal of its own.
A rustle of clothes caught your attention. Suma turned her back to you and loosened her obi. The short yukata fell to her hips, baring her back to you; there was nothing- until she used her hands to lift her hair. You drew a sharp breath.
An ugly jagged scar stretched from the top of her back up til it disappeared in her hairline. 
“This is a pretty embarrassing story actually. Nothing grand at all,” she told you. “I was about sixteen and a spider startled me while training. I fell from a tree - a branch whacked me there, and since then, I have this ugly thing.” She let her hair fall down and sat properly again, a half-smile on her face; it didn’t look right to see her expression so grim and sad. There was a strange instinct to try to cheer her up, yet you remained silent, a lump forming in your throat.
Makio was next, untying her own belt as she knelt, letting her dress pool at her knees. Raised scar imitating torn flesh extended from her bellybutton to her hip, only partially hidden by her fundoshi. You wanted to avert your eyes but couldn’t. “This is only two years old. I was diving in the river with the girls when a current threw me on a bunch of rocks. Long story short, they were pretty sharp.” 
She was so nonchalant about such a huge blemish on her smooth skin - it made you feel something, something sharp and unwieldy was lodged in your chest, throat, heart. Your hands trembled as you knocked back the tea and set the cup down quickly, lest you let it slip from your fingers.
You were being pulled apart at the seams, exposed despite wearing the most concealing yukata of you four.
Lastly, Hinatsuru stripped off her own yukata. A scar, unlike the others’, placed very deliberately over her areola. You choked on air, near hysterics.
Warm hands and warmer eyes reached out to you, grounding you as you keened. Because you knew the origin. You were there. You were there on the Mission.
You heaved a dry sob. There was only one thing you wanted to do.
You raised your fingers to your lips, kissing them, and then- the fingertips traced the ragged flesh softly, tracing it with a feather-light touch. 
Perhaps you were overstepping, but you wanted to, needed to apologize, to show her intimately how beautiful you found her despite what had happened.
“You are stunning,” you whispered breathlessly, making her own breath hitch. You blinked back tears. “All of you are stunning.”
Suma shuffled closer. “And so are you, [Name].”
Your hand fell away. Perhaps it was foolishness, or bravery, that made you pull your curtain apart, baring your own skin to them. 
There were no gasps, no horrified whispers.
Just four women, nearly naked as the day you were all born, sharing their humiliation.
…was it humiliation? Or was it strength to survive despite all the hardships? 
"Our point is, each of us have some scars we are ashamed of. Do you think lesser of us for having them?"
You didn't even have to think about the answer. "No."
They smiled. And you realized that you would find only acceptance here, in their soft and tender arms.
Hinatsuru took your non-dominant hand in hers. "Some scars are silly, some scars come from gruesome experiences - but they make us who we are. They are part of us."
Suma took your other hand in hers, squeezing it briefly and lifting it to her lips. Oh so gently, she bestowed kisses on each fingertip, lingering on the scar from the knife tip that caused your abdominal scar.
In that moment, you did not see women - your wives - you saw deities, blessing you with their attention and love. They were willing to carry all your trauma together, to share the burden despite knowing you only for a short time. You had no words, except-
"I'm yours," you whispered, warmth filling your chest cavity, your body feeding on the intimacy, the closeness, the feeling of belonging. "And you're mine."
"You're ours, and we are yours."
If you were a painting, you’d be held together only by the frame - at least, that was how it used to be. Now, with three new wives to support you, you were slowly being put back together, healing at last.
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"So… we match now, don't we?" Kyojuro said with a bright smile on his face. 
It was the day after Tengen came home, but he couldn’t wait. Despite what he told his wives, he spent the night in an inn, marinating in the wrath he felt, in the hurt and the frustration.
Madness stewed in his stomach, threatening to be regurgitated at any moment. Tengen pushed down his feelings for the moment when he heard steps approaching. “Yes, we do match. Including the retirement and all the free time that comes with it.” 
"I see. Well, you have your hands- hand full of your wives. I'm positive you will figure something out!" 
A demure voice called out, "Excuse me." A red-haired woman came closer, kneeling behind the men sitting on the engawa and setting down her tray. There was tea for each of the men and a huge plate of steamed bread buns. "I thought you might be a little hungry so I…" she trailed off. Quickly getting up, she all but ran away from them.
"Thank you, dear!" Kyojuro shouted at her retreating back, laughing a little. "That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-"
Tengen wasn't in the mood to talk about his friend's nurse. He was here for business after all. “When did you intend to tell me you made my wife a demon slayer?”
Kyojuro paused, nearly mid-bite into a bun. Deciding to finish taking the bite before speaking, he quickly chewed and swallowed. "Delicious! Hmm, well, I didn't make her a slayer. She became one herself." He took another bite, finishing his first bun happily. "Delicious!"
“Cut that out, Kyojuro. She wouldn’t have become one if someone didn’t teach her Breathing. I know it was you, don’t deny it,” Tengen said between clenched teeth, rage very poorly hidden. Behind all the rage was worry, and fear, for her - yet all he could do was spew poison at his best friend.
“Maybe if you’d listened to her back then, you could have prevented me making her a slayer, in your words,” Kyojuro blew at his tea to cool it down a little. “Besides, [Name] is her own person and she can do as she likes. She wanted to be a slayer, she came to me for help, and I would be a bad best friend if I let your wife go into the Final Selection unprepared.”
Tengen hissed like an angry cat, “She could have gone to me.” 
His friend leveled him with a flat look, so unlike his usual sunny disposition. “The last time she saw you before you left, you called her a burden. Imagine how that must have felt. If I were her, I’d be already divorcing you. Really, she deserves better.”
Better. Better. Better.
The word echoed in his mind. She did deserve better; she deserved someone who would support her no matter what, who wouldn’t go behind her back and marry three other women- 
His brain circled around those thoughts almost constantly since she came back from that gods-forsaken Mission. What did she see in him that made her stay? Why did she decide to try - to accept their other wives in the polycule?  
More importantly, Tengen knew she was antsy, that she needed an outlet long before he left for the red district. Getting back in the field - into the fighting, and the blood, and the hurt - was one thing he also knew he could not support. He’d just gotten her back, and he was supposed to be fine with losing her again? 
No.
The answer was no. 
He would have never approved of her joining the corps. He was a bad husband. [Name] deserved someone like-
Kyojuro sipped on his tea, looking over the peaceful garden.
-someone like Kyojuro.
“How often has she come to you while I was gone?” Tengen blurted out before he could stop himself.
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Your first mission as a demon slayer was very uneventful, the demon being weak and easily tracked down, even despite your inexperience. However, there was a Kakushi that had gotten hurt - completely unrelated to the demon, they stepped into a small hole in the ground and rolled their ankle - so you were carrying them to the Butterfly mansion, which was the closest, or so the Kakushi told you. And they were right.
Once you’d laid the Kakushi down on one of the sickbeds further inside the mansion, where they kept the less severe cases, you didn’t want to walk back through the intensive care wing - especially since it was past midnight. You took a detour through the gardens, where you saw a red-headed young man sit on the engawa.
You looked him over, the bandages standing out against his sun-kissed skin. You knew immediately who it was. “Thank you for being there for my husband, young Kamado,” you said, breaking the silence of the night as you approached him. Kyojuro had told you Kamado Tanjiro had a very good nose; he’d probably been able to smell you long before you came close to him. “It must not have been easy - fighting an Upper Moon.”
Tanjiro looked at you, tilting his head. “Husband? Uzui Tengen has… four wives?” To his credit, he didn’t look as surprised to hear the Sound pillar had one more wife hidden away though perhaps his expression was closer to disappointment.
“It should have been me,” you confessed. “In the entertainment district - it’s what I’ve been trained for, what I was born for, made for.” The bitterness in your voice seeped through.
He gave you a tired smile, “Uzui-san, it couldn’t be helped.”
“I would have helped… He didn’t want me to.” You didn’t know why you wanted to pour your heart out to the boy. There was something about him, something that reminded you of Kyojuro, of safety and home. “I would have been just a burden.” 
Tanjiro’s eyes softened, his expression sad, sympathetic to your plight. Yet he could say nothing, he only offered you an ear to listen, to take off your burden at his feet and go on with your life. He reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I spent the time trying to become an asset instead.” Sleepless nights of the week pre-Final Selection came to your mind. You did your best to stop being a burden, and you achieved that; you had your dark gold sword, your Kasugai crow, and your duty. 
“I think…” he started uncertain, “You’re a warrior - were one even before you became a slayer, weren’t you? So you have never been a burden, nor a liability. Whoever made you think this way is wrong, Uzui-san.”
His words brought a slight smile to your face. “You’re too kind, young Kamado.”
Despite the reassurance, dark thoughts swirled in your mind. Still, Tengen’s opinion was branded into your mind, into your heart, your body set on fire and burning you alive with the same ache that had pulsed through your veins in the rhythm of your heartbeat when you came back. 
Tengen’s opinion hurt you as deeply as his betrayal had.
And it was hard to let go of it.
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You were helping Makio with the dishes after dinner when Tengen finally came out with what’s been bothering him.
“Why did you decide to become a demon slayer?” his tone was a barely-restrained typhoon of emotions. 
You looked Makio in the eyes, and she understood immediately, drying off her hands on a rag and leaving the kitchen swiftly.
You both knew it was going to be a nasty fight. 
“Don’t be mad, okay?” You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his jaw gently, since that was all you could reach. Tengen had an unreadable expression on his face for a second before he practically dove in for a deep deep kiss, the force of his urgency making you lose your balance and you lost your balance, his body caging you against the counter.
As swift as a summer rain, the passion turned into anger. He tore himself away from you.
“Why the fuck are you doing this? Are you still hung up on the whole-!” Tengen gestured vaguely in a sharp movement.
You blinked a few times, refocusing on him.
But he didn’t let you answer. “Is this your revenge?” he growled, standing so close he cast shadow over you.
You huffed. “This is no revenge, Tengen. I just-”
“You just what? Your husband left on a life-threatening mission and you go dilly-dallying with his fucking best friend?”
“What? Are you being serious right now?” you could only gape at him, shock freezing you in place. “What the hell are you implying?”
Tengen grit his teeth. “What do you think? A lonely wife, soon to be a widow, in need of a husband. Oh look! There is one right here!”
You chuckled without humor, yet you found the situation wholly hilarious nonetheless. “Tengen, he has a girlfriend.”
“He what?”
“I thought you are his best buddy. Kyojuro’s nurse, Amiya? She’s his girlfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”
Like a bucket of ice cold water over a fire, his anger was put out and he remembered.
That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-
You took a deep breath before giggling again, a little deranged.
Tengen took a step back. “I didn’t- I didn’t know.”
A mad laughter echoed in the room, and it surprised you to hear it was yours. “Really? You come back from a mission and you find your lonely wife, a would-be widow, found out about the joy of having a friend after years and years - and you what? Accuse her of cheating the first thing? Wow, you’re so fucking smart, aren’t you?” 
“[Name], I-” 
“No.” You Breathed, pushing him back and surprising him with your strength. “I never did that to you. Get yourself in the mirror and fucking look. Gods know there are many in our home.”
“Alright, I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that,” Tengen took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I really am…”
“Yes, you better apologize. And you better apologize for one other thing, Lord Tengen,” you seethed. All the anger, the hurt and the pain bubbled together in a nasty concoction of negativity, a poison you intended to make him eat every drop of. 
Because he made you eat his.
“I- Precious, calm down-” He backed away a little seeing your darkening expression, “Okay, honey, don’t be calm.”
“That’s right. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m my own person, with ambitions and feelings - feelings, might I add, that you hurt with your loathsome comment-”
Nothing but a burden.
“- but really, I should thank you. I actually found something I can put my energy to now that I’m no longer a kunoichi,” your voice softened as you looked away. You didn’t want to let all be unforgiven, you just wanted to fix it, to embrace Tengen and be embraced by him - flaws, scars, and all.
The kitchen suddenly felt cold, you felt cold - as if you could never warm up enough. You were frozen to the marrow of your bones, and the chasm between the two of you seemed so dark and wide. You were an island in the middle of a sea.
But then he stepped closer. 
“Can I touch you?” his voice shook slightly. 
Your eyes met. 
You nodded. He reached out with both arms, his hand taking yours and pulling you closer, into a tight hug, his stump crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry, precious... I kept thinking I could lose you, that I would lose you again so soon after I got you back. I didn’t want that, I wanted to keep you safe.” His breath hitched as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. 
“That doesn’t excuse your words.”
Tengen’s heart ached, your voice so small and wounded. “It doesn’t, and I swear I will do my best to make it up to you - for the rest of my life, every day. I swear on my existence that I will cherish you every day, from sunrise to sunset and from sunset to sunrise. You are my one and only, my precious.”
The reverent promises warmed your cold bones, bringing life back to where there was none. 
You’d long decided to stand by Tengen no matter what. You would forgive him. 
After a punishment.
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The master bedroom was a work of art - especially for a polycule. Nearly all of it was a raised platform covered by one gigantic futon that could host ten or more people, with about a meter and a half from the walls on three sides as a walk-around. Perfect for what you had in mind.
“Ladies, take it easy-” he choked out. It was too much at once - Hinatsuru cupping his jaw and leaving hickeys, you giving attention to his nipples, sucking and biting them, and Makio at his cock, lapping at his flushed tip. Where was-?
He tried to reach out to push his wives away but felt a tug instead, his arms immobile behind his back. 
“Sum-aaahn~ Fuck!” Makio sucked him into her warm mouth, distracting him from Suma, who was skillfully weaving ropes around his arms; she was, after all, the best at shibari out of all his wives. Their plan slowly sank into his mind. It was hot, and he didn’t want it to stop.
Your nails trailed over his abdomen, Makio cupped his balls as she took more and more of him down her throat, and Hinatsuru practically devoured him with a deep kiss, taking his breath away. His mind went blank.
“Done!”
At the signal, all of his wives took a step back, leaving him panting and aching for more. His face was flushed and his eyes a little hazy. “Wha-?”
Makio grinned, wiping a little bit of drool from her face. “Did you really think this night is about you?” she tutted.
“Exactly, Tengen-sama. You’ve had our wife all to yourself for weeks. It’s our turn,” added Hinatsuru, turning to you. “As long as the First wife approves.” 
You smiled shyly, face hot, yet turned on. It was all a show, just for Tengen. Hinatsuru had already asked you in private if you’d consider a night like that, since the three felt the need to punish him for his transgressions as well. If he already wasn’t regretting crossing his women, he would be after tonight.
“What are we waiting for?” Suma skipped over to you, grabbing you by the yukata and kissing you deeply. You squeaked in surprise at her forwardnes but kissed her back. She tasted sweet, like mochi - you now knew for certain she ate it despite being told not to. 
The mochi was quickly forgotten when you felt your obi loosen. Suma’s hands went into your hair as she kept you occupied. Deft fingers pushed your yukata off your shoulders, another pair of hands going up to cup and play with your breasts.
“Girls, come on… I’m here, why don’t you use me for your pleasures?” Tengen’s voice was faint to you, as was Makio’s response, your head underwater despite breathing fine.
The hands at your breasts disappeared, leaving you cold, your nipples hard from arousal and the change in temperature both. Suma pushed you backwards, until your calves met the raised platform bed. She finally pulled back, someone - Hinatsuru - gently making you sit, then lay on the mattress. 
“You look so cute when you’re all flustered… Your eyes are so lost,” she leaned over you and kissed your lips softly. You chased after her for more, but she only giggled. “It makes me want to ruin you~” She smirked. “In a good way, of course.”
Tengen could only stare in mute shock at what was unfolding in front of him. All his wives turned on him, tied him up, and ignored him, seeking pleasure from each other instead of using him as their play toy. The truth of the situation slowly sank into his mind as he watched Makio replace Hinatsuru in teasing you, and Suma help Hinatsuru into a strap-on harness - a strap-on that was an exact copy of his own cock! They could just use him!
“Girls… I’m right here~ My hands are a bit tied though…” Tengen nearly whined, trying to make eye contact with any of them, only for all four women to be focusing on each other instead of him.
“Sweetie, would you mind…?” 
You looked up to see Hinatsuru with a big strap-on, waving it in your face. You opened your mouth and started to give it sloppy kisses, getting it all wet with your saliva, as you looked up into her eyes. She was smiling down at you, petting your hair gently.
There was a brief conversation behind you but you could only focus on her as she guided you down the cock, making you gag slightly. Hinatsuru pulled back and let you go at your own pace, telling you how good you were for her and how lovely you look taking the strap down your throat.
“Mhm, I think it’s wet enough, isn’t it?” She cupped your jaw and slowly slid you off of it, a string of saliva connecting your lips and the tip of it before it snapped. “Makio, come here.”
Gentle hands hugged you from the back, open-mouthed kisses worshiping your shoulders as Suma moved you back a bit to make place for your other wife.
“Mommy is going to make you feel good,” Hinatsuru cooed at Makio, turning her around and pushing her to her hands and knees. “Present for me, babygirl.”
Makio arched her back, balancing on her forearm to spread her already-soaked pussy, the sight making Hinatsuru blush in delight. She took the strap by the base and teased her wife by going up and down between her pussy lips. Makio whimpered and tried to push herself back on it, very nearly succeeding, when Hinatsuru spanked her ass lightly.
“Be good for me, okay?” Nevertheless, she pushed the strap inside agonizingly slowly, Makio moaning at the feeling. She used both hands to support herself now that the cock was in. “You can only cum if you make [Name] cum, babygirl. Sound fair?”
Makio smirked, though it lacked the usual sass, each slow thrust taking more of her brattiness away. “Yes, mommy~” 
Suma pushed you down to lay in front of Makio, spreading your legs with soothing strokes on your thighs. “Let her make you feel good~” She positioned you to half-lay on her lap, one of her hands coming up to caress your breasts and play with your nipples gently.
Hinatsuru thrust in roughly exactly once, and it was to push Makio’s head in between your thighs, forcing her to start pleasuring you. She licked at your clit with just the tip of her tongue, drawing circles and infinity symbols; the long-forgotten feeling of someone going down on you ignited a blaze inside your belly, making you gasp and clutch onto the bedding. 
Suma took hold of your wrist and placed your hand on Makio’s head, whispering lowly, “She likes it when you pull her hair~” Hearing that, you tugged at her hair a little, her moans only adding to your pleasure, the vibrations feeling heavenly.
“F-fuck-” you breathed out shakily, wanting to pull away yet push her head closer to you, already overwhelmed. 
Makio dove in, sucking at your puffy clit gently, laving it with the attention it deserved. She made her way down, grazing the tip along your slit as she continued to make little sounds from Hinatsuru fucking her. Flattening her tongue, she hungrily ate you, a woman on a mission.
Hinatsuru looked up from the lewd display in front of her to look at her husband. Tengen was mesmerized, staring at all of them, before he caught her gaze. She caressed Makio’s asscheeks before delivering a sharp smack, earning her a loud moan from Makio, and subsequently another from you. His face flushed a deep red, lips pressed together in frustration. All the while, Hinatsuru kept eye contact with him, a smug smile stretching her perfect lips.
You tensed, crying out and thrashing in Suma’s embrace, hand harshly gripping at Makio’s hair as you rode wave after wave of pleasure. 
“Shhh, you look so lovely when you cum, don’t you, princess?” Suma whispered in your ear, hot air caressing your sensitive spot as you shivered. “Did you see how good Makio ate you out? Isn’t she pretty when her mouth is occupied and not sprouting nonsense?”
You could scarcely choke out a word, quickly tipping into overstimulation. Hinatsuru, bless her, noticed and roughly pulled Makio back on her strap, pulling her face out of your pussy as she whined and moaned.
Suma rubbed your thighs in comfort; you just tried to catch your breath, coming down to Earth from the Heavens you were in.
“Are you with me? Ready for your lesson, princess?” 
“L-lesson?” you tried to get your bearing, while Suma turned you around gently, shuffling back a little, her cunt nearly in your face. 
“Why, of course~” She grinned. “You need to learn how to eat out a pussy. Did you pay attention to Makio? If not, that’s fine. Come, I’ll be your teacher today~”
You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, saliva pooling in your mouth as you processed what she wanted you to do. You wanted to try, wanted to taste her, wanted to find out how to please her and how to perform your wifely duties to her. The curiosity of the entire act burned inside of you.
You laid on your belly, your lips just inches from the well of ambrosia awaiting you. You give a first tentative lick, the tip of your tongue swirling around Suma’s clit, making her sigh out in pleasure.
“That’s good, princess.” Whispered praises left her lips, instructing you how exactly she liked it, where to lick, where to suck, when to slow down and speed up. Gentle fingers threaded through your hair, reassuring you and grounding you.
You alternated between her sweetness and her puffy nub as she guided you through your first oral, the taste so addicting to you and the praises intoxicating. Her moans only made you wetter, made you anticipate what’s coming next in the night as you enjoyed Suma’s depths for all she gave. Her thighs quivered around your head, the sounds of ecstasy resonating in your ears when her legs didn’t squeeze you involuntarily.
Your face was flushed, you could hardly breathe; you ate and ate until she was screaming and creaming around your tongue, hot pussy juices flooding your mouth. 
“You did so well for me, haaah- princess,” Suma caressed you, easing you off of her with a shaky hand. “How was it?”
You licked your lips and looked up at her shyly. “I liked it very much.” The admission earned you a smile and a deep kiss, before Makio patted both your shoulders. Her thighs shook a little as she winked and then tilted her head in the direction of your husband.
You all shared a secret grin, turning to him at once.
"Heh, I knew you would want my cock eventually," Tengen smirked. You gave him an unimpressed stare.
Makio circled him and bent forward to hug him from the back, whispering in his ear seductively. "Worry not, pretty boy. Once we've used you as we want, you're being put back on the shelf. You see," she grinned evilly, "we don't need you to get our pleasure." Her arms tightened around him, a silent warning to not move.
Hinatsuru laid in front of Tengen, her legs spread on each side of his thighs as if she were offering herself to him. She patted your thigh to draw your attention. "Sweetie, paint me with his cum. I want it all over me~"
The nickname made your cheeks heat up. You nodded enthusiastically and shuffled closer to Tengen.
His lone eye was lidded, face flushed and lips parted as he looked on in anticipation of what was coming. His cock twitched right before your palm met his flesh, the spongy tip an angry red and weeping precum. You held it steady and opened your mouth, letting your saliva drip down on it, using it as lubricant along with his precum to stroke him. Tengen let out a breathy “Fuuuhk-” when you started a steady pace, putting both of your hands to use. You swept your thumb over the mushroom head with each pass, paying attention to what he liked. It was your goal to make him finish, after all.
“Come on, be our good boy and cum quick~ We need your cum~” Makio whispered into his ear in a sultry voice. Tengen whimpered.
Your hands were firm around his cock, unrelenting as you worked him towards his release; the weight of him in your hands was familiar yet new at the same time. His balls hung heavy and you cupped them with one of your hands, fingers deftly massaging him for the sweet treat inside.
Tengen cursed like a sailor, first spurt of semen shooting out with enough force to land near Hinatsuru’s neck. You didn’t stop, trying to squeeze the most you could out of him as he painted a masterpiece on his wife.
"Good job. Now you sit here nice and pretty for us. Such a good decoration to our pleasure, hmm?"
You, Makio and Suma all descended upon Hinatsuru with the hunger of starving hyenas. Licking at her cum-stained skin, you cleaned every beautiful inch of her as she closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it. 
Tengen could only stare again, humiliated for the n-th time that evening. Yet again he was forced to sit and watch his wives go at it, barely giving him a taste of the pleasures they gifted each other so lovingly, using him as a source of cum to continue the hedonistic display in front of him. He felt shamed, and unbelievably turned on.
Makio’s head bumped into yours by accident, prompting you both to look up. Your eyes met, an animalistic impulse taking over as you locked your lips together, Tengen’s cum shining like lip gloss on both of your lips. So engrossed in each other, you forgot all about the audience you had, everything a blur as your tongues danced.
“Time to fuck that attitude out of you, brat.” 
Makio’s head was yanked from you, a string of saliva stretching and snapping between the two of you as Suma tugged her back by her hair. Makio was forced to support herself with her hands on Tengen’s thighs, making him blush deeply at the sight. A sharp smack echoed in the room.
Warm hands coiling around your torso distracted you from your stolen lover. Palms with small calluses ran over your breasts, the rough parts catching on your nipples as you were pulled away and down to lay your head on a pillow. Hinatsuru laid beside you, foreheads touching, air shared between you.
“Do you want to learn how to make me feel good?” she whispered, eyes searching yours for any hesitancy. 
You had none though. “Yes, please… Mommy.” Your face felt hot at the nickname you called her, but Hinatsuru only smiled gently, cupping your face.
“Of course, sweetie.” Her fingertips trailed down your throat, your chest, belly, making you shiver and goosebumps spread over your skin at her feather-light touch. At last, her hand stroked your thigh, raising it a little to allow her access to your most intimate place, two fingers delving between your pussy lips. You drew a shaky breath.
“Close your eyes,” Hinatsuru whispered to your ear. “Feel my fingers, focus on how I do it…” You gasped as her thumb circled your puffy clit oh so gently. “Copy what I do to you, hmm? Can you do that for me, sweetie?” Her motions slowed down, waiting for you to start doing as she ordered.
Your hand hesitantly trailed down her side to the apex of her thighs, dipping down to her entrance to wet your fingers before you began copying her. Her shaky moan signaled you were doing it somewhat right. 
“Feel me?”
You hummed breathlessly, leaning against her neck, panting slightly. You weren’t ready for the pleasure her digits brought but you tried to focus on copying her movements. Each flick, circle and thrust was met blow-for-blow on her own pussy. You bit your lip as you felt her huffing into your hair.
“You’re doing so well, sweetie. Just relax and enjoy it, hmm?” 
You could hardly relax when she brought you pleasure so expertly - each circle on your clit winding the knot inside tighter and tighter, making you see stars even before your release.
“Let go for me, babygirl.”
You cried out, losing control over your fingers as you shattered on Hinatsuru’s. Tears gathered at your lash line while she shushed you, still stimulating you gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure as they crashed upon you.  
“So adorable. You sound so cute when you cum, sweetie.” She took hold of your hand and ground down on you. “Now, be a good girl and let mommy use you- ah!” 
Hinatsuru didn’t bother to muffle her moans, chasing her own la petite mort. You watched in awe when she came, her pussy walls squeezing your fingers, more slick coming out of her. Her whole body trembled and she no longer had to control you as you made sure to gently bring her down to Earth, steering clear of her clit to not overstimulate her.
A lewd sound accompanied you taking your fingers away from her. You looked at them, all sopping wet with her essence; before you could stop yourself, you were licking it all up. Hinatsuru giggled a little and cuddled close to you once you were done, giving you a sweet kiss on your lips.
Makio’s face was right in Tengen’s, each snap of Suma’s hips driving her closer to her orgasm, her breasts swaying back and forth, her nails digging into his thighs painfully. He could not look away; he ached with need, his weeping cock begging for attention, tears nearly filling his eyes from the frustration. Just behind Makio and Suma were Hina and you, coming down from your respective highs, cuddling and not paying attention to him at all.
Why? He was right there! Why didn't you or Hina or any of them give him any relief? He truly felt he didn’t deserve this…
Makio went taunt suddenly, her eyes rolling back and her arms losing their strength, nearly falling into his lap. Suma laughed breathlessly at that and slowly pulled the strap out of Makio’s pussy, the fake dick bouncing a little. With a few tugs on the harness, she was free of it, a few indents showing on her thighs from how tightly she tied the straps.
Extra appendage discarded, it was time to untie Tengen, who’d fallen uncharacteristically silent.
Makio was crawling to the cuddling duo, completely spent, when the last knots fell loose. 
Tengen Breathed.
Suma was on her back before she knew what was going on, her legs spread wide open. “Eh?” was all she could say when her husband’s large form caged her in, the tip of his rock hard cock already at her entrance. Her yelp alerted the other wives that something was wrong, but Tengen was beyond the point of caring. He thrust inside with one smooth move, groaning loudly like a cheap whore, immediately setting a punishing pace on his Second wife.
All other sounds fell away other than the lewd wet smacks of skin-on-skin. Suma’s face became flushed very quickly, clawing at his shoulders while he rendered her guts to pieces with his harshness. A beautiful mix of pleasure and pain. 
He brought his hand down to her clit, circling it the exact way she loved. Tears filled her eyes as her release approached rapidly. Tengen had still not said a thing. He was just staring at her, groaning softly, sweat making his hair stick to his neck and face, which was set in a beautifully pussy-drunk expression. 
She was lost, her back arching as she clung to him. The fluttering of her pussy made him let out sounds reminiscent of a dying man and still deep inside her, painting her walls white. Tengen pulled out slowly, still hard, throbbing and far from done. He did nothing to stop his cum from leaking out, turning to the rest of his wives.
Makio was already dozing off, despite the commotion, so that eased his burden so to speak. Tengen shuffled closer in a few quick motions, grabbing Hinatsuru’s ankle and yanking her to him, her noise of surprise drowned by his feral growl.
She laid on her stomach, so Tengen just straddled her thighs and spread her asscheeks open, pushing inside her wet pussy roughly. Hinatsuru angled her hips to take him in deeper, fucking herself back on him and moaning at the feeling of his cock rubbing against all the right spots. "T-Tengen, slow down!"
You could only stare wide-eyed as your husband railed Hinatsuru like a beast, his stump resting on the small of her back, arching her up even more, and his hand clutching the back of her neck. You glanced at Makio on your side, long since passed out, and then Suma, who was dozing with cum oozing out of her.
You weren’t scared of Tengen, per se, but this was new. You had never seen him go crazy like this. It made you gush with wetness at the display, your fingers reaching down to play with yourself.
His furious pace with Hinatsuru slowed down, though not any less powerful. He leaned over her, his whole body covering hers as he put his weight on his forearms, grinding into her with each roll of his hips, her eyes crossing a little, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Tengen started to whisper in her ear; you could not hear what he said, but Hinatsuru’s eyes met yours, conveying a silent message you could not understand. Was it pity or something else entirely?
Smack.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tengen spanked her, grinning widely, staring down at her. “Say my name,” he commanded her in a gravelly voice.
Hinatsuru desperately clutched the bedding - trying to remain in place or fuck herself back on him, you didn’t know - as she stuttered out a weak “T-Ten-gen-!”
“Louder!” 
“T-Tengen!”
A quick rhythm of pap pap pap echoed in the room, you couldn’t look away, you could scarcely breathe. And then, Hinatsuru could scarcely breathe, when he wound his left arm around her neck, using the thick muscles to keep her in place while he had his fun.
Her face was red, mouth falling open in an ‘o’.
“Oh fuck- I’m cumming-” he choked out hugging Hinatsuru close, burying his face in her neck and groaning as if he were dying, letting up the pressure on her neck. She just whimpered meekly, grinding back against him, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his in an intimate touch. 
You suddenly felt like a voyeur. You wiped your wetness on your thigh, quickly pulling a loose blanket over yourself, embarrassed. 
There was a loud squelch and another whimper from Hinatsuru.
You chanced a look, your eyes widening.
It was clear Tengen’s mania did not pass yet, his cock still hard and twitching. “What, did you think I’d forget my dearest wife?” He loomed over you, his huge body casting a shadow, like a predator about to devour his prey. “Whether you're ready or not, here I come, precious…”
You felt like the temperature of the room rose a few degrees, watching him come closer to you, length bouncing, covered in slick and cum. You thought he must be pretty overstimulated, it should be easy to last…
How wrong you were.
Like an animal let out of his cage, he pounced. The last two creampies only took the edge off; your fellow wives were dozing off quietly while you were about to get ravaged. 
Tengen practically tore the blanket from your body, leaning closer and blocking your escape, his forearms framing your head. “Why are you hiding from me, precious? Are you scared?”
You trembled from a mix of arousal and anticipation. 
His wine red eye searched both of yours intently, waiting for your response. When you said nothing, he whispered, “Remember our safe word?”
Jade, or three taps on any part of his body with your fingers.
You nodded.
“You can still use it at any time,” he murmured. “Say it, or use our non-verbal signal, and I’m going to stop. Do you understand?” 
You nodded again, making him sigh in relief.
Then, Tengen grinned, dropping all the worries he had; happy you were both on the same page. Now he was free to do as he pleased - as long as you didn’t stop him. “Then… Say you’re mine…” he leaned in even more, hovering just centimeters above your lips, your breaths mingling. “...pet.”
You exhaled harshly, the nickname doing things to you, his closeness, his voice, his scent… All of it an intoxicating mix of pure Tengen. “I’m… yours.” 
“Hm? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder,” he whispered breathily, eye half-lidded. “Come on, be a good girl. You know you want to be~”
Your face felt hot at the intensity of his attention. “I’m yours.”
“Exactly, precious - mine to touch…” His right hand caressed your cheek, tilting your face up. “Mine to kiss…” he breathed out, diving in for a deep and sensual kiss that stole your breath away. “Mine to do whatever I please…” His hand traced down your neck gently as he kissed you again. “You’ve been naughty…”
His lips left your own; instead trailing open-mouthed and hot kisses on your throat.
“Teasing me all evening…”
Your pussy clenched around nothing, his cock bumping on your clit as he tried to position himself hands-free.
"Minxes-"
His tip caught at your entrance and he slid in with a low groan, your heat and wetness driving him near-mad already.
"You were so gorgeous, all of you." 
In, and out, in and out - each time quicker and quicker, yet the way he took you could hardly be called graceful. It was an animalistic and desperate pace, all about pleasure and none about being pretty.
He leaned back a little, holding his weight on his hand. "Hold onto me," he panted out. "C'mon raise those hips f'me, precious." 
You tightened your thighs on his hips, gripping as much as you could with his disharmonic thrusts, and arched your back off of the bed. His cock hit a very sensitive spot inside making you groan at the sensation and nearly slip down as you lost strength; Tengen used his left forearm to stabilize you as he fully raised himself upright on his knees, his right hand helping his thrusts.
He groaned, “You’re fucking perfect - and all mine, only mine.”
You could only mewl in response, your orgasm quickly approaching. 
As did his.
“Fuck- fuckfuck, I’m coming, I’m coming-comingcomingcomin-!” he chanted over and over, falling over and putting nearly his whole weight on you as his hips stuttered. He leaned on his left forearm above your head to ease off of you a little, still slamming away into you, rhythmless and sloppy.
Heat filled you, setting you off like fireworks. Your pussy milked him for all he was worth, each spasm accompanied by a whimper from you.
“I can’t stop my hips- It feels so good, ngh-!” His semen spilled out of you with each slap of skin against skin, his pubic bone bumping against your clit and creating a burning ache there. Tears filled your eyes when finally he groaned out, "Fuuuhck-" You felt his hot cum spill inside you again, making you wonder where your husband acquired such libido and stamina while you were away. 
Tengen slowed down at last, his body trembling above yours as he hid his face in your neck, panting. Your arms were boneless and refused to keep any semblance of coordination; nevertheless you hugged him loosely, one hand tangling in his sweaty locks. You untied his eye-patch and dropped it at your side, fingers returning to his scalp.
Each breath became longer and longer, his rutting finally coming to a stop. 
He huffed and kissed your neck gently. "Gonna pull out now-" he grunted when your pussy spasmed around him, clearly overstimulated. He finally pulled out fully, for the first time since sinking into your heat, and nearly got hard at the sight again. 
His cum was smeared all over your thighs and more still was leaking out of your puffy pussy. He could not resist - his hand gathering some of the pearly white, reaching up and smearing it all over your tits. 
"Hey!" you protested half-heartedly.
Tengen laughed, still a little breathless. “Not sorry.” He gave you a short but insanely soft kiss, before standing up and walking to the door. “Stay where you are.” His form disappeared.
You relaxed, the gentle breathing of your wives soothing you. That was… something. You had never been with a woman before, nor had you had an orgy, or really been with anyone other than Tengen, but this felt good, this felt nice. Overwhelming, but neverending pleasure. Giving and taking freely. No pressure. Just ecstasy.
Tengen came back, carrying a small bucket of water and a few rags, each a different color. He gave you a wink and knelt next to Suma first, wetting one of the rags and cleaning her up, his gentle motions a clear worship to his wife. Once clean, he scooped her up and carried her over to the other side of the room-futon. Suma had not stirred once.
You rolled onto your side to watch him work as he moved onto Makio. Hers was swift, yet Tengen kept pausing every time she mumbled something in her sleep. Finished, he carried her to Suma, who immediately cuddled Makio to her chest. He threw a blanket over both of them as they snuggled for warmth.
Watching him care for them told you how deeply he loved each one, how devoted he was. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel jealous. Perhaps it’s the remnants of shinobi culture lurking in your brain, though the thought didn’t comfort you at all.
Hinatsuru groaned when he cleaned up his spend from her thighs, the water clearly going cold with time. Tengen shushed her softly, speeding up so he could get her to be with the others quicker. 
With the girls, Hinatsuru rolled over, pressing herself up against Makio, seeking warmth.
At last, it was your turn.
“You’re shakin'…” You didn’t even notice until he pointed it out. He quickly grabbed the last wet rag and wiped you down gently. The water was lukewarm. “I’m right here, precious.” 
His own body seemed clean enough, so he’d already done that for himself in the bathroom probably. You reached out and placed one of your hands on his thigh, right over the marks Makio left on him, hoping to provide him with a little of the comfort he brought you. Tengen smiled at that gesture.
“You did a good job, makin’ me feel good.”
You hummed. “And you did a good job making me feel fantastic,” you whispered as he finally wiped the drying cum off of your chest. 
His hand slowed a little. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“No, you were just right.”
He leaned down to give you a tender kiss, the forearm of his left arm caressing your cheek oh so gently, it made you tear up a little. This man, your husband, worshiped you like a goddess. Your love for him swelled in your chest, your heart pumping heavily as if it wanted to beat out of your body. You felt loved - loved, cherished, appreciated. It was a heady feeling, a drug which made you crave even more of his soft attention and veneration. 
You could only hope he understood the power he had over you.
Tengen set the rag on the rim of the bucket and put it beside the futon. You got to your knees to join the others when your husband snatched you up, making you yelp a little. He was grinning. “Can’t have you walking after your first night in our flashy group, can I?”
You giggled quietly when he laid you down, himself between you and Hinatsuru, who felt a greater warmth from his side than from Makio’s and rolled over to him. You reached out and threw a blanket over all three of you.
Despite your tiredness, you allowed Tengen to pull you even closer against him, bestowing another adoring kiss to the crown of your head. One of your arms stretched over him, tracing idle patterns on his chest - characters, words, should he pay enough attention to notice them.
I adore you.
I never want to leave your side.
I want to make you happy.
You make me happy.
I'm yours.
You're mine.
We are husband and wives, a family unit, never to be separated.
You closed your eyes and drifted off.
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palaceoftheprophets · 10 months
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“Well, perhaps you could tell me…while we dance.”
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janeyseymour · 2 months
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I Wouldn't Tell Anyone
based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".
WC: ~2.75k
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Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.
The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.
“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”
“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.
“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”
“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”
Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail. 
Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.
And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.
By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.
She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.
“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”
“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”
“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”
“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”
“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”
“Y/N,” you tell her.
“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”
You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.
She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?
I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?
I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.
You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.
The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.
Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted. 
The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.
You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.
You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.
“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”
The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”
“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”
About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”
So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.
“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.
“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.
“Since when did you move?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.
Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”
“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”
“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.
Again, the redhead just shrugs.
“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.
“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”
Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.
“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.
Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”
“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”
“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”
“Because I found 
The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”
So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.
To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.
“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.
“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.
The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”
They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.
Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.
“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.
The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.
She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”
“I know a guy.”
“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”
They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads. 
Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.
“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”
“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.
“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”
Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess. 
Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later. 
At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”
“What?”
“You looked beautiful the other night!”
“Thanks, kid.”
“How did you get all of that?”
“I know a guy.”
Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.
“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”
“I told youse, I know a guy.”
It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.
“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.
“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”
Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.
“Hello?”
“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”
“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”
“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”
“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.
“Yeah,” she hums.
“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”
“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.
You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”
“I am if you are.”
“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”
“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”
“Eight?”
“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means. 
Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse. 
Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.
When you push it open, all eyes are on you.
“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.
“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.
The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.
“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.
“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”
The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”
You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.
“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”
Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”
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