#a nice baked potato with ribs

[recapitulation]

meal ideas!

low energy ("do not ask me to do any prep work at all, so help me god")

mozzerella cheese wrapped in pepperoni ("pizza tacos"!)

hummus and pretzels or naan (putting the naan in the microwave for like 10 seconds...heavenly)

canned chili (with shredded cheese and sour cream if you have it! boom done!)

instant miso soup (warm and lovely! put tofu in it for protein!)

cheese and cured meat, olives, canned fish, crackers, dried fruit, or whatever easy "charcuterie" type items you like

alternate bites of apple and spoonfulls of peanut butter (mixing honey or chocolate chips to the peanut butter is my favorite)

a "deconstructed sandwich": bites of lunch meat, pickles, cheese, cherry tomato, etc (I love roast beef and white cheddar for this)

yogurt and granola or fruit

put frozen potstickers + frozen edamame in the steamer/rice cooker, chill elsewhere with a timer set, then boom

tortilla chips + canned refried beans + cherry tomatoes + cilantro + jarred salsa con queso (or warm shredded cheese on top of the chips in the microwave for 30 seconds)

bagel + cream cheese + lox

microwave scrambled eggs (add things like green onion, soy sauce, or anything else you like!)

cottage cheese and fruit (mixed together or just on the side)

bowl of shredded rotisserie chicken + buffalo sauce + a bit of mayo + green onion (use a kitchen scissors to cut them right in!)

medium energy ("I'll boil water but don't ask me to chop shit")

boiled eggs and fresh veggies (put a little salt on top of the eggs!)

buttered noodles (my go-to nausea meal, it has never failed me. ideas of things to add: frozen peas, imitation crab, roasted garlic)

baked potato with toppings (I like cheese, bacon, broccoli, green onion, and sour cream)

quesadilla (add some canned beans, cilantro, or avocado!)

pot roast (requires a lot of time but not a lot of actual work. I love it with peas!)

cuban sandwich (bread, swiss, pickle, mustard, ham... my favorite thing to panini-ify by far)

pan-fried tofu with scallion sauce (this sauce goes well with everything and tofu is no exception)

pancakes or waffles! (I love mine with jam)

ham, pickle, and cream cheese roll-ups

fried eggs (with toast and lots of butter...so comforting)

fruit smoothie (bananas, frozen strawberries, yogurt...or whatever!)

I hate salad but could write essays on this copycat olive garden salad (throw it in a bowl! chopping required if you use onion)

spaghetti (controversial maybe but angel hair > spaghetti noodles)

pasta salad (olives broccoli fresh mozerella... those little mini pepperonis... yeah)

stir-fried thai garlic shrimp (I like using the mini frozen salad shrimps, it's easy! use jarred minced garlic to avoid chopping!)

tuna mayo onigiri

slow cooker ribs

buffalo chicken wrap (or any number of other wrap options! shred pre-cooked rotisserie chicken to make it easier)

if your local grocery store sells pre-cooked gyro strips, that can turn into an easy wrap with store-bought pita & tzatziki with tomatoes and onions!

couscous and chickpeas

tortellini + pasta sauce + spinach

high energy ("I don't mind chopping some things up!")

stuffed shells with spinach

chicken and roasted garlic (oh my god.....one of my all time favorites)

beef tacos (I like mine with cilantro and onion, and when I'm feeling especially high energy I love a tomatillo salsa)

chicken alfredo

tom kha gai (a thai soup and my absolute favorite! you just need access to galangal)

lasagna! (freezes well and then boom! low energy meal for later)

pad thai! (not as hard as you'd think, as long as you have access to tamarind paste!)

potstickers! (this is a lovely group activity if you want to cook with housemates!)

rice and beans

bang bang shrimp (ogughfhgfuh I love it. you can also do bang bang tofu!)

minestrone soup (so many nice veggies!)

fried rice (put whatever you have on hand in there! broccoli, peas, carrot, and beef is my favorite combo)

broccoli cheddar soup

spring rolls and peanut sauce

skewers (such as beef, onion, zucchini, bell pepper... you don't need a grill, oven works!)

roasted turkey with garlic parmesean asparagus

pork chop with mashed potatoes

panang curry

chicken gnocchi soup (use store bought gnocchi or make your own if you have a high energy day!)

bibimbap (super customizable depending on what veggies you like best)

butter chicken

plus! things that have helped me meal plan:

whenever you think of a meal you'd like to make, take 3 seconds to google search it, take a screenshot of the image results, and put it in a "food ideas" folder. instant visual menu!

the concept of "meal prepping" makes me recoil but I've learned that it can simply mean preparing shredded chicken, boiled eggs, or some other simple protein that you can customize throughout the week. shredded chicken can turn into wraps, salads, pasta dishes, etc... you don't have to meal prep yourself into the same meal all week!

when I have difficulty working up an appetite, I'll scroll through my favorite restaurant menus! there might be some foods I can't make at home, but many times they're very simple to recreate because the ingredients are literally listed!

#brought to you by: i see people complaining about coming up with meals for the week #and im like..this is my favorite thing to do........let me be your meal brainstormer #additionally brought to you by: eating something is better than nothing so some of these may not be complete textbook 'meals' #but sometimes you feel like shit and just need something! so! #also this energy scale is tailored to me personally so if some categorizations dont make sense to you thats bc its about me <3 #food #i might update this with dessert ideas too later. or just add to it in general

[mysteria157]

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black Fem Reader

CW: Profanity, Light Angst, Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Cowgirl, Fingering, Fingersucking, Cunnilingus, Slight Dom Reader (not much), Car Sex, Bathroom Sex

WC: ~16k (It's long so get some snacks)

Summary: 

Maybe you're single for a reason. You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations, and you refuse to settle for less. For the ones who aren't worth the air they breathe, you chew them up and spit them out. You savor the taste so you know what to avoid the next time.

So when he looks down at you with that devilish smirk and calls you 'Princess', you're determined to prove that Toji Fushiguro is no exception.

Notes: Hello! This is my first fic with Toji and I'm nervous to get it out here. The setting of this fic and the elements I incorporated connect a lot with my own childhood and the memories (not the interactions in this fic) that I had at family cookouts and get-togethers. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon Header: myself (stability.ai)

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter | **Sequel**

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

“Can I get you a drink, princess?”

When you meet Toji Fushiguro for the first time, it’s on the fourth of July at your uncle’s house. It’s a big get-together at a two-story house located in the countryside. Every year he opens up his spacious home for a gathering of your extended family to bring excessive amounts of alcohol, play old school rap and R&B too loudly, devour delicious fucking food, and set off fireworks that have been collected since the beginning of the year. 

Your uncle has already made a home by the grill and taken control of the speakers after one of your younger cousins attempted to play something ‘a little too racy’ for his tastes. You’re pretty sure it was an Ice Cube song from the 90s that your uncle hates but is too proud to admit, so he lectures your cousin about ‘what young folks should be listening to’ instead. 

The smell of hamburgers and ribs has been teasing your nose for the past hour, and your hunger is borderline unbearable with each sniff. You avoid the allure of the long table of food because if you look, you’ll be three plates in before the meat is done. There’s coleslaw, baked beans, greens, and macaroni and cheese. Your favorite aunt also brought her potato salad and you know she’s going to make yellow cake with chocolate frosting fresh before the fireworks. You love it so much and you were deprived of it last year when you were called in to work at the last minute. You will get some today.

The backyard is expansive and well-maintained, and your cousins and aunts have already laid their claim on swanky cushions of the nice patio furniture. 

The one cousin you’re closest to in age and personality sits next to you on a large blanket a few yards away from the rising volume of your extended family. You were able to get a good ten minutes of conversation from her before her fiancé showed up and made a home inside of her mouth.

Your family normally has something to say about PDA—a stupid quip about acting ‘too grown’ even though you are both knocking on the door of thirty. But she doesn’t care—just like you, that’s why you like her so much even though her fiancé is sucking on her face like it’s his last day on Earth.

Shiu Kong is nice—gentle in his own way and carries himself with a bored air that seems to pull your cousin in. He’s enamored with her, practically folds in on himself when she’s around, and worships the ground she walks on. They’ve been together for a few years and you’ve never had a problem with him.

But that just might change today because he’s brought along a friend who has already ignited a flame of arousal and annoyance deep within your belly. From the moment Toji Fushiguro stepped into the backyard with Shiu, your family was transfixed. Your aunts can’t stop ogling, and your uncles and male cousins try to jokingly size him up.

“Oh honey why don’t you sit down, don’t be shy. Lemme get you something to drink.”

“That’s not steroids? It’s gotta be. Don’t play.”

“How much you bench?”

It’s annoying. So fucking annoying but you can’t help but agree. He’s a little older—maybe early thirties—but dangerously attractive.

Raven hair that reaches his ears, looks unbelievably soft and falls over emerald green eyes. A grey shirt hugs him too fucking deliciously for your comfort and dark jeans hug an ass that’s too fucking juicy. He’s a big man—a burly man and unfortunately, that’s how you like them.

Big, burly like a bear, respectful, and capable of making you feel small and protected but also valuing and worshipping you as a woman. Unfortunately, such men are hard to come by because you tend to intimidate them. You don’t tolerate disrespect in any form and quickly put men in their place if they try to undermine, belittle, or confuse protection with control. You know what you want, and you refuse to settle for less. 

They can’t stand it.

And right now, you can’t stand Toji. As he looks down at you with a well-worn smirk on his face, a smirk that suggests he has plenty of experience in situations like this, your irritation grows. He’s a smooth talker, confident in almost everything he says. His voice is deep, but melodic in a strangely feminine way that makes his words slide like silk down your back, and the minute you heard it, your thighs threatened to rub together. 

Definitely a smooth talker. But the nickname you don’t care for. 

Princess.

Like you’re a dainty little thing who will bat her eyelashes and call him Daddy. It makes your walls of self-defense rise even higher, and the gentle smile you had given Shiu when he first said hello moments ago transforms into the beginnings of a frown. 

Without hesitation, you rise to your feet, plant your wedges firm into the grass, and turn away from them before muttering, “I’m good.”

Toji simply shrugs; a gesture that annoys you even more because he doesn’t offer any other reaction that satisfies you. He settles into your previously vacated spot, leaning back on his hands. The jacket on his shoulders falls open and the sight of his shirt hugging his muscles is too much for you.

You inwardly curse as your eyes wander over his physique. Thick pectorals that you could easily rub your face against and make a pillow for yourself to sleep on stretch the fabric in a way that you’re sure it’ll rip. Abdominals tease just below the surface of his shirt that clings to him like a second skin. You want to lick between each one, press your teeth into the hard skin to make him wince and beg as you count each one.

Four, six, eight? 

Fuck.

You don’t show how you want to straighten your spine against the chill of being caught staring. That smirk is on his face again, tugging at the corner of his mouth. There’s a scar on the right side that slashes vertically over his top and bottom lip and you dislike the arousal that begins to boil between your legs from the sight. You wonder how he got it. If it was a fight, did he win? The thought of him wrestling another man to the floor and taking a cut to the face in the process shouldn’t arouse you, but god it does. 

His eyes make you think of moss as you watch them slide up your body, and it almost feels like invisible hands caressing you. They’re large and pale, littered with scars along the knuckles as they glide up your exposed chocolate legs, dip between your inner thighs, and caress the curves of your hips.

“See something you like?” 

He’s ogling you but has the nerve to try and put you on the spot? You have enough self-control to let logic worm through the rising lust inside of you. You sneer down at him, sharp enough for Shiu to visibly pale and your cousin to giggle at.

“To be honest, I don’t really see much.”

You don’t give him a chance to retort and you pretend not to hear the soft hum of nonchalance he throws back. You walk away from them, turning just in time to shield the way your eyes widen at the feel of your face and neck prickling with heat.

The moment you close the bathroom door inside your uncle’s house, the breath trapped within your lungs escapes in a rush. You press your forehead against the wood and the coolness of it offers only little relief to the burning of your skin. 

You turn your head and press your cheek against the wood so the cold surface can slide along your cheek as you open your eyes to take in your reflection.

Of course, Toji would ogle you. You’re confident enough to know your beauty.

A red sundress that hugs your curves, stops at your mid-thighs. Knotless braids with curled ends are piled on top of your head in a loose bun with a few strands that spill along your hairline.

You’re good-looking. But you’ve been out of practice with a man for a long time. Your last relationship ended when you caught him balls-deep in your coworker. You’re too shy to pursue a one-night stand and not detached enough for a situationship. 

However, you could risk it all for Toji and you hate that you’re entertaining the thought. You hate that you’re imagining him barging into the bathroom, bending you over the counter, and taking you from behind with his large hand digging into the small of your back and whispering how much of a good girl you are as you beg him to cum.

God, get yourself together.

To calm yourself down, you find solace in your uncle’s quiet kitchen. There’s only one person occupying it, your favorite aunt, who is heavily pregnant and working on the yellow cake that you’ve been thinking about all day. You use the opportunity to distract yourself and take over for her, shooing her away to relax in the backyard. 

You crack an egg against the off-white countertop, fractures splitting up the sides before spilling its contents into the silver mixing bowl in front of you. A self-deprecating thought slithers in your ears, and whispers loudly with wicked intention. 

Toji wouldn’t want a woman like you.

You’re too outspoken and mean to men, too demanding with your expectations. It pushes them all away, and although you normally take pride in keeping away those who aren’t worth your time, it can get lonely. 

To see your ex actively cheating on you was icing on a cake that was slowly cooking in an oven of your own self-doubt. You have standards, and while your friends consider you the voice of reason in their misfortunes with men, most members of your family think you’re too picky. You’re too much work, ‘you think you know everything’. 

“Men will always have a wandering eye, it’s up to you to keep them in check, girl.”

“Honey, I love you, but the more you pick apart a man, the less he will want to be around you.”

“They love it when you cook for them, girl. Take care of your man and keep him fed and you’ll keep him forever.”

Bullshit.

It’s bullshit to take care of a man in the same way his own mother does. It’s bullshit to lose all sense of self and independence, to wait on a man when he gives you less than nothing in return—when he can hardly give you the bare minimum. You don’t mind cooking for a man who takes care of you, who loves and values you, who would never hold you back and would encourage you when you can hardly encourage yourself.

But all the good ones are in relationships now, married with a few kids, and in your resolve to stay strong and weed out the bad to find the good, it’s left you a little bitter.

Most black families are old school, and yours is no exception. They hold ‘for better or worse’ a little too close to their heart. They cling to an ideal that a man runs the household down to the basics in a way that makes you uneasy and in your defense, you snap when you’re backed into a corner.

You love them, you truly do, but they probably will never understand just how aware you are of the world and how little you are willing to put up with the problematic things that others consider normal.

Your ex was great at first. But he got comfortable. And when he got comfortable, he got lazy, a little too controlling, and a little too frustrated when you asked for certain things in the bedroom. The only person who knows about your breakup is your mother, who had the gall to be out of the country for work, leaving you to fend for yourself for today. 

You watch as the batter spills on each side of your wooden spoon, parting and then falling back together like sand. In your reverie, you don’t notice a few of your relatives who have now entered the kitchen and are roaming through the fridge. You can hear one of your least favorite aunts—the bitchy one—playfully joking with someone, and whatever drivel comes out of her mouth makes that person laugh. It’s deep and suave enough to make a tingle of electricity stutter down your spine because you know it’s him.

Refusing to look in their direction, you continue mixing the batter until the lumps disappear.

“You been hiding in this kitchen for awhile now,” your aunt begins, Atlanta accent the most grating it’s ever been as she turns her gaze toward you. “You’re normally a little more talkative when your man is here. He not coming?”

There is not a trace of genuine concern in her tone. You and her bicker often; she presses your buttons and then gets mad when you press back. Your ex’s infidelity is ammunition you don’t want to give her, but being caught in a lie is something she would only treasure more to use against you later. 

You clear your throat and turn the spoon in the batter once, then twice before answering without looking her way.

“No, he actually came inside of my coworker a few weeks ago. So we split up.”

You can feel the noise before you hear it—a characteristic and sharp ‘mmm’ that seems to be ingrained in your family’s DNA. It makes your grip tighten on the wooden spoon, and you scrape along the bottom of the bowl until it screeches on the metal.

“You gotta watch out for this one, Toji. She’s always been an outspoken one. Too good for ‘em all and likes to be a little mean to her men.”

You scrape harder and then turn to her, a sickly sweet smile plastered on your face. 

“You’re right. The fact that I won’t settle for someone who will get bored with me after a few years makes me way too good for them. Should have turned the other cheek just like you did with your last husband. Or…was it the one before him?”

You catch the way Toji pulls his lips in to bite down on them, scar twitching as he fights to hold in a snicker.

Your aunt glares at you, purses her lips, and turns them to the side before pulling in a noise that has been passed down for generations. Her mother and her mother’s mother used the very same tactic to strike fear and insignificance in their children when they talked back. It’s a sucking of air between her teeth and the sound makes years of discipline from your own mother flash in your mind like you’re in the trenches of war. 

You know she wants to say something, and you can taste the ‘you always got something to say’��in the air before Toji slides from his perch against the counter and places a hand on your aunt’s shoulder.

“Let’s get you a drink, huh? Didn’t you say you wanted me to try the beer you brought in?” She throws you a knowing glare before letting Toji lead her away; because if there is one thing that will distract her from showing out, it’s letting a good-looking man touch her.

The shaking in your hands helps you sift in the dry ingredients—a mix of sugar, flour, and baking soda—into the batter. The breaths through your nostrils are heavy and thick with anger, and the corners of your eyes sting with heat. You whip the batter harder than necessary, your aunt’s words replaying in your mind like a broken record.

Don’t cry. Don’t fucking cry. Don’t—

The sight of a can of hard seltzer pressing onto the counter in front of you makes the ramblings in your mind stop. Familiar long fingers unfurl from the can and slide on the counter, their fingertips touching the edges of your mixing bowl in an effort to get to you.

“I would have given you a bottle of beer. But I had a feeling you might bash it over your aunt’s head.” He’s not wrong, and in your frustrated state, you consider his defense admirable. “I like a fight, but I’m a guest and the food looks good.” 

Your grip on the spoon loosens slightly as Toji leans casually against the refrigerator, arms crossed over bulging biceps that stretch the short sleeves of his shirt. His jacket is now gone, and you can’t help but notice the veins in his forearms that protrude, tempting you to lick against them.

It takes the sheer will to tear your eyes away and focus on pouring the batter into the bundt cake mold, observing as it fills the intricate crevices. 

“So he cheated? Most men are pigs.”

“But not you, huh?” you can’t help but retort, shaking the mold to disperse the air pockets that bubble on the surface.

In your peripheral, he shrugs. “I know what I like in a woman and once I get what I want, it makes no sense to look somewhere else unless she wants me gone. I’m a man…but I’m a loyal man.”

When you meet his emerald gaze, you can see a hint of pain and vulnerability that unsettles you, tilts you back on your heels from the force of his honesty. You reach for the can of seltzer and take a long swig to give yourself time to get your thoughts in order. The carbonation is sweet and fizzles along the sides of your tongue and down your throat. 

“So what is it you like in a woman, Toji?”

It’s a question that probably should have been left untouched, but your curiosity overpowers your restraint. You don’t want to go back outside, because if your aunt is still feeling particularly petty, she will say something that will only make you leave. And you don’t feel like letting your family win today. 

Toji’s strong gaze certainly isn’t helping. Those invisible hands slide along the crevices and dips of your body, stroking the small of your back before pressing featherlight against the back of your neck. The hairs rise in response, your skin prickling with gooseflesh. 

Unexpectedly, he pushes off the refrigerator and walks closer to you, and you’re too shocked to back away. Despite his imposing stature, you know he won’t harm you. There’s something about him that’s warm and inviting, soft and tender even though his exterior is hard lines and muscle. The two of you are now mere inches apart, and the air feels thin as if you’ve reached the summit of a mountain and struggle to breathe due to the change in altitude. 

Jet black locks graze against a rough cheek, the tips kissing the raised scar on the side of his mouth. Up close you can see his features more closely. His eyes are sharp and intense with deep green between his lids as if hiding a pearl in an oyster. Thin eyebrows make him look more serious and cutting and you’re swallowing back drool because your nose picks up a faint whiff of woodsy amber emitting from his body. It smells cheap—he’s put together in the most basic sense—but it still smells…good.

“I like a woman who knows what she’s about. Independent and doesn’t fuck around. Smart and pretty with curves I can grab and squeeze. Someone with some sass and isn’t afraid to put anyone in their place.”

He steps closer and your lungs heave in a desperate attempt to pull in air. The brush of the wall against your back makes you stutter out your exhale and you press your palms flat against the cool surface to keep you grounded.

“I like a woman with nice creamy brown skin that smells a little like the cake she’s baking…” Through the sea of delirium, you distantly realize that he’s describing you. “The red dress definitely is a bonus.”

That familiar smirk pulls against his lips again and your heart is thundering in your chest. You would be surprised if he couldn’t see it thumping erratically beneath the skin between what’s exposed of your cleavage. 

But this is just another trick in their book to get you in their bed. Or in the bathroom. Or over the kitchen counter.

And as much as you want to, you can’t give in. Because you’ll hate yourself tomorrow.

So you tilt your chin up at him and narrow your eyes at his amused expression. 

“Describing me in place of your ‘ideal woman’? That’s boring. Go use it on my bitchy aunt, she’s got fillers in her ass so that’s more curves for you to ‘grab and squeeze’ when she throws herself on you after the Hennessey kicks in.”

Toji’s eyes widen slightly before a harsh laugh barks from his mouth. It’s surprisingly nice on your ears and rattles the drums inside in a way that you don’t dislike. He pulls away from you, giving you a few more inches of space and the altitude in the air seems to level out enough for you to take an inconspicuous deep breath. 

“Nah, nothing against fillers, but I’m more of a natural man myself,” he admits.

“Cellulite and stretch marks?” you ask with a lift of a brow, teasing but…mildly curious.

You watch as that smile slowly slides on his face, teeth glittering and eyebrows raising. He looks like he’s hit the jackpot. 

“The whole package, princess.”

Biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a smile, you push down the lingering arousal in your stomach, refusing to let it simmer. He’s funny and you appreciate a man who loves the raw and often overlooked intricacies of a woman.

His response is disorienting, throwing you off balance, and you’re unsure of what to do next. Your usual response is to talk back, to take delight in a man fumbling when his own cards have been turned against him. But you can’t think of anything right now. 

You move around him to place the bundt cake mold into the oven, setting a timer with the plastic buttons above the stove. Snatching the seltzer from the counter, you lean back against the oven, putting a considerable distance between the two of you to think. 

Toji mimics your movements, retreating to the fridge to relax against it, folding his arms across his chest, and god he still takes up the room. Even though you’re further away, it still seems like you can smell the cologne as if it’s sitting right on the skin below your nose.

“Do your moves always work on women?” you ask before taking a good swig of your seltzer.

He shrugs in response and turns around to dig a beer from the fridge. You don’t bother to hold back the urge to leer at him. You want to grab his ass, listen to him squeal in surprise, and blush in embarrassment when you squeeze. The thought of digging your fingers into the skin of it as he fucks you nice and slow makes your mind short circuit, a computer rebooting and making a loud noise before frying out indefinitely.

“On the rare occasion that I happen to use them, yes they always work. But…obviously not on you.”

“I’m not easy to win over. You need to be worth my time.” Your eyes flicker up to his face before he turns around to face you.

He takes a swig of his beer and you watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. The column of his throat is long and pale and you want to slide your tongue along the side to taste the saltiness of his skin.

“What’s it going to take?”

His interest in you is admirable, and a small part of you is giddy with the attention. But you’re nervous to give him an inch when most are quick to take a mile.

“I have a name so stop calling me princess. I’m not a royal, so unless you’re offering me land, money, or power, I don’t want to hear it.”

He barks out another laugh, his thick chest shaking and eyes closing as he throws his head back. You despise how good it sounds and you’re reminded of these moments when men seem so beautiful and wonderful before the ugliest parts of them are visible.

“What else?” he inquires, still chuckling as he takes another long sip.

“If you’re expecting sex from me, think again. I don’t do one-night stands or friends with benefits. It’s messy and I just don’t have the strength for it.”

He seems to consider your remark as if he has no choice but to weigh your stipulation before signing a contract. Then he smirks that devilish smirk that makes your cunt pulse between your thighs when you know damn well it shouldn’t. You cannot be this turned on by this man.

“Not even if I have a big dick?” he teases.

He’s annoying and you’re mildly disgusted but still willing to banter with him, so you grimace and roll your eyes. “What, you want me to take a look first before I make up my mind?”

He full-on grins, the fucker. “If that’s what it takes.”

But in true fashion, you bounce back with your own quip. “Public indecency is a crime and I also don’t like to look at cock until after I’ve eaten something. It’s nauseating.”

Laughter erupts from him once again, loud and boisterous that it seems to shake the oven against your back. He probably thinks you’re joking. But you’re not. Dick already looks alien. Looking at dick on purpose without any sense of arousal is pathological behavior. 

Your heart flips in your chest when he pushes off the refrigerator again, taking a swig of his beer as he saunters to you and the sight is criminal. Your fingers dig just slightly into the metal can in your hands, a faint pop emanating from it. 

“What are you bothering me for anyway,” you can’t help but ask, frustration coating your words as you frown more at yourself than at Toji. “I have so many other cousins here who are single and would love to get their hands on you.”

At first, he doesn’t respond, and in the silence, you struggle to take a full breath again. You don’t like that he’s so close to you, but you also love the way he smells and the way he looks at you as if you’re someone and not something to fucking eat. You’re a fucking mess. 

His head tilts slightly, and his hair follows the movement, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes take you in instead of scrutinizing you. 

The air feels thin again, and you ready yourself to leave when your pregnant aunt suddenly barges back into the kitchen and stops short at the scene. Toji takes a slow step back, not really bothering to fumble at being so close to you. You’re sure he doesn’t really care.

She’s your favorite for a reason because she understands. She’s not dismissive and mean and she simply smiles knowingly at you both before gesturing with her head towards the backdoor.

“Time to eat. Honey, why don’t you show Toji what’s what before your uncles steal everything.”

***

He stays close to you when you both make it outside, and you do your best to ignore your bitchy aunt’s gaze from her perch in one of the patio chairs. The spread of food makes your mouth water and you waste no time grabbing a plate for yourself and absentmindedly handing Toji one as well.

“I’ve never had some of this before,” he admits, and his voice is a little apprehensive from next to you as he takes everything in. It makes sense, this is probably his first cookout…his first black cookout at least. Strangely, you’re proud to be the one to guide him along.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing to the heavy helping of greens and ham hocks on his plate minutes later. You’re both at a small table alone and away from the noise.

“Collard greens…it’s a cabbage that’s cooked in a pot for a few hours with spices and broth. The ham hocks give it flavor, cook it before you add the greens so the meat falls off the bone better.” 

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as Toji gives them a wayward glance, an arch of a thin brow that makes his features more handsome than they should be, and then he takes a tentative bite before moaning sinfully in appreciation. The vertebrae of your spine lock in place, stiff with a sudden chill at the noise as you picture it slipping from his lips while you ride him until the hinges fall off. 

You take your own bite to stop anything stupid from coming out of your mouth.

You figure he has to eat to accommodate for his size but to see it in action is something else entirely. He finishes two plates in fifteen minutes and as he makes his way to get another serving, your bitch of an aunt speaks up from across the lawn.

“Why don’t you get up and get him another plate?”

Why don’t you shut the fuck up?

You grip the plastic fork in your hand tightly, digging into your diminishing potato salad and swallowing the vile that you want to throw her way. 

Make your man a plate before you make yours, get him a drink, get him another helping so he doesn’t have to, keep him fed.

Maybe this is why you’re single. You want to scream. You want—

“Don’t listen to her. You’re still eating, don’t move,” he levels, and you don’t miss the hint of irritation in his own voice as he gets up. “The same seltzer as before?” he asks, pointing to your drink that you didn’t realize was empty.

“I—”, you fumble before clearing your throat. “I like the strawberry one…if there’s any left.”

He shoots a wink your way and your body ignites with heat.

Your cousin worms her way over when Toji disappears, and you try your best to ignore the sly look on her face.

“Defending your honor from our bitchy aunt? My, my, the perfect recipe for your feminist heart.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl, shoving the last of the potato salad in your mouth. 

“He’s Shiu’s best friend. Moved here from Japan a few months ago and is living in the same city as you. It could be fate? You want his number?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap again, feeling exasperated but knowing that unless Shiu is here to stop her, she will talk until she’s tired or you’re swinging at her.

She giggles, undeterred and gearing up for more. “He’s single too. And you’ve got all our other cousins mad as hell because he won’t leave you alone.” You don’t reply, because you’re mildly intrigued and impressed with yourself. It’s nice to have the attention from someone so attractive; it’s just figuring out if he’s genuine that’s the headache. “When the music gets louder tonight…or when the fireworks go off, take him upstairs and fuck him on—”

“Didn’t I say—fuck you.”

She guffaws, loud and unabashed and it pulls a smile from the side of your mouth. You know she doesn’t mean it, you know that at gatherings like these, you’re the black sheep and she just wants you to enjoy yourself.

“Seriously though, cousin. Shiu doesn’t keep many around, but they’ve been friends since they were kids. That’s a good sign right?”

There’s some merit to it, but you still want to be careful.

And Toji Fushiguro makes it hard for you to be careful because he wants you around him all the time and is unashamed to show it. 

Later in the night when the music is booming old school hip hop that your uncle won’t shut up about (he’s drunk), your other uncles—and a few cousins they will definitely con—have a table already bustling with spades. At first, you’re unsure how they convinced Toji to join, but he’s partnered with one of your cousins who has no clue about the game, and you realize they just want Toji to lose so they can feel good.  

Feeling curious, you pretend to bring Toji a beer. He’s frowning down at the cards, irritated with his lips curled into a small scowl and your cousin is trying to act like he knows what to do, but his stupidity is palpable even from where you stand.

You offer him a beer and ignore the fact that the one on the table is still full. When he looks up at you, his sharp eyes hold you like a vice, frustration evaporating quickly before opportunity takes its place.

“Help me.” He doesn’t bother to hide the confusion in his voice and you can’t help the way your stomach flips. 

One of your uncle’s snickers. “She doesn’t know how to play.” You do. “But she can try.”

You’re so annoyed, and you want to snap at him but Toji is pulling you closer to him with a muscular arm before you can. You’re in his lap before you know it, sitting precariously on a thick thigh with your back pressed against a broad chest and you can’t breathe again. The fluctuating altitudes are making you lightheaded.

Any other time and you wouldn’t hesitate to turn around and knock a man’s teeth in for grabbing you. But against your better judgment, you relax into Toji instead. His cheap cologne smells way too fucking good, he’s so big and warm against your body and your throat is drying up like you’ve taken a big breath in the middle of the Sahara.

“Don’t grab me like that,” you can’t help but grumble, only mildly put off.

“I improvised.” It’s a feeble excuse wrapped around a heavenly chuckle in your ear and you pray to whoever is listening, mentally offering up a sacrificial lamb, anything to ensure you don’t drip all over his thigh. “Now help me win.”

You do. Three times. He's adamant about winning and you're sure he has a gambling problem. And if your legs go a little numb from sitting on his thigh or if you lean into the way his outside hand slides to hold the curve of your waist, you don’t complain about it.

***

“You don’t dance?” Toji asks an hour later, joining you on the blanket that you occupied when you first arrived. It’s almost sunset, and the orange of the sky covers half of the backyard as your family revels in their merriment.

You shrug at Toji’s question, gazing at members of your family who are dancing in the yard. One of your loudest uncles is boasting about the music as he teaches one of your cousins dance steps. That used to be you so many years ago, and the moves are like muscle memory as you watch them. One of your aunts takes over the stereo, beginning what will surely be an hour of reminding everyone of the greatest hits. 

You suddenly realize that it’s just you and Toji on the blanket. Your cousin and Shiu are off god knows where, and given her penchant for being a rebellious freak, she’s probably riding him on your uncle’s bed. The thought makes you shudder.

“Are you cold?” he probes, pulling you out of your thoughts.

It is cooler now, but that’s not why you were shivering. You’re ready to tell him no, to start shaking your head even as you watch him pull his own jacket off to place it over your shoulders. His hands smooth over your shoulders and down your arms as if securing it closer to your skin and your blood boils beneath your cheeks. Your skin isn’t light enough to show when you’re blushing, but you’re burning with nervousness.

“Stop being so nice to me,” you hiss instinctively, regretting the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The surprise is evident on his face and you immediately feel guilty. “I’m—I’ll only be mean to you in return.”

For the first time of the night, he looks angry. His eyebrows dip, the scar on his cheek twists with the harsh frown on his lips and he gives a severe ‘tch’ that makes you gape at him. “Why because you’re mean to men?” he snaps, impatient and free of any tease. 

It raises your hackles instantly, and you’re talking back before you know it. “Exactly. So why don’t you take a hint and stop trying to get into my pants—”

You feel a rough finger on the side of your cheek turn you further towards him, preventing you from looking at anything else.

“You just don’t like bullshit. Stop acting up and let me be nice to you.” 

For once, you don’t have anything to say even though your hand is twitching with the urge to slap the words from his mouth. You want to. It’s easy for you to fight back and push them away, you’re good at it. But you can’t fight the way his gaze seems to calm you down against your better judgment.

You pull your face from his hold and roll your shoulders, sliding out of his sharp gaze and turning back to your lively family. One of your cousins is arguing about why the Cowboys didn’t make it into the playoffs, and now everyone has something to say.

You pull in a deep breath, scolding yourself to relax just a little. He hasn’t been so bad, and you’re not one to make things intentionally difficult if a man is honestly trying. You’re still apprehensive about his intentions…but he is trying without being a beast. So you exhale your frustrations into the July air, calm down so your heart can steady its frantic pounding from the lingering scent of his cologne, and dig your fingers into your uncle’s well-kept grass.

“Fine. If I let you be nice to me…what would be the next thing you would say?”

You can’t look at him, but you feel his eyes on your body as you pluck a few blades of grass from the soil. The strands slide against the pads of your fingertips, rough and threatening to cut, before fluttering in the breeze when you release them. 

He’s grabbing you again, tenderly but possessively, sliding you into his embrace so your back is to his muscular chest, his chin rests on the side of your temple and his arms wrap around your waist. Your heart is back to leaping in your chest, pumping loud and fast in your ears, drowning out the music and arguing as if you’re underwater.

“How about you tell me about your family?” he suggests, voice unmuffled through the thickness of your hearing.

It’s a random ask, as if he wants to impress them, as if you’ve been dating for a long period of time and he wants to be prepared to meet them for the first time. The thought doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth, even though you know it would never be a reality anyway. You don’t know if he’s just joking and frankly, the feel of him against you is warmer than his jacket on your shoulders and you don’t want to leave.

So, if it means he can stay put, you give in. You tell him about your aunts, uncles, and cousins—where they are from and what they do. You share your traditions when you all get together and the small intricacies you all share. It’s incredibly personal…maybe even too intimate. But he listens, and hums to let you know he’s paying attention, and asks you questions as you talk.

Eventually, his cheek rests on the crown of your head against your braids and you surprisingly don’t mind at all. When you notice his arms wrapped around you, you get a better view of the scars on his arms and fingers, and there is a rising urge to ask how he got each one.

“So she’s been married twice?” his voice is low in your ear so you can only hear him in the noisy backyard. His breath smells faintly of the beer he finished an hour ago, and it slides along the skin of your neck hot and thick. You resist the urge to cant your neck to the side to give his breath more room to roam.

You nod. “She got the fillers after the first husband. Those brought in the second husband. Then he left her for some girl in Cali.”

“Cali?’ he questions, confused.

You snort softly. “California.” You elbow him and the bone slides against hard muscle. Dammit. “You don’t know your states?”

“I’m foreign, not stupid.” The laugh that bubbles from your chest is sharp and you can’t help the smile that pulls against your cheeks from it. “I know my states!” He sounds truly annoyed and for some reason that makes you laugh harder. “Florida, Kansas—”

“I’m not asking you to prove yourself!” you sputter around a giggle, shaking in his embrace. But he’s not listening.

“Montana, New York…there’s another one…the big one.”

You gawk, turning just a little to crane your head up at him. He looks down at you with an embarrassed expression, his cheeks a little rosy even though his lips are flickering with the urge to laugh. 

“I beg your finest pardon…the big one?”

The side of his face twists in the nastiest way, and he’s angry at being questioned. “Don’t—it’s the one down below!”

“In relation to what?”

His eyes narrow, emerald barely noticeable between thick lashes. You can sense his hold on you tightening slightly, his chest stutters in a huff and you realize with rising glee that he’s pouting. Normally you would revel in this…but—

“Texas,” you find yourself speaking up at him, voice soft and gentle on the edges. “The big one down below is Texas.”

He simply hums, his chest vibrating against your back, but his gaze is smoldering, taking you in and dipping down to your lips before flickering back up your eyes. You’re too hot now, his jacket against your skin too suffocating, your heart beating too fast against your ribcage.

You hate just how rebellious you like to be. “What, you gonna kiss me?”

The challenge is fleeting across his features and he leans down so quickly that you don’t have time to react. Your stomach flips with irritation at the implication that he would take from you without asking, and suddenly, you no longer want him touching you.

“I wouldn’t take it without asking,” he whispers in the small space between you both as if reading your thoughts. The tips of his raven locks brush against your cheek, there’s a slight kink in your neck from how you are looking up at him, but he’s so close that you don’t care. One of his hands skims up from your waist, caressing the curve of your ribs, and his thumb teasingly runs along the underside of your clothed breast. His touch is reactive in you, and you angle your body further into his actions. His gaze remains locked on yours, absorbing your very being without doing a thing and you’re fighting to stay in control.

“So can I?” he asks, voice deep with temptation. “Kiss you?”

You swallow the bucket of drool that has somehow pooled in the back of your throat in seconds. The thumping of your heart no longer fills your ears, replaced now by a deafening ringing, spurred by your growing desire as you open your mouth to respond. 

“I…depends…are you any good?”

He nonchalantly shrugs, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his scarred lips twist into a smirk. He’s completely calm and you can tell if you told him no, he would leave it alone entirely. But he’s enjoying this, you can see it all over his face.

“Jury’s still out.”

You don’t trust yourself to say ‘yes’. Some part of you feels like if it comes out of your mouth, it will sound too desperate and you want to stay in control as much as you can. But, you could give yourself this. You’ve earned it. Just one kiss and then you could hide away until the fireworks and then use the noise as a cover to leave. After all, he’s hot. He’s been so nice and honest and the warning siren in your mind has long faded.

You deserve a reward.

So you nod, stiffly but enough for him to notice, and the air seems to thin out again when he leans in a little more.

“Toji!” one of your uncles calls out, severing through the heavy cloud of lust between you both like a knife. You recoil from his touch, his touch now only making you itchy, and you pull from his embrace so that his arms unravel and his jacket slides off your shoulders. The cooler air is freezing this time against your skin. “Come help me with the fireworks, would you?”

You don’t pay attention to his response, because you’re already up on your feet and making your way inside the house. Your body floods with the embarrassment and shame of being caught by your family…kissing a man that you’ve just met. You know you shouldn’t care…but it’s so easy for their behavior to rub off on you when you feel vulnerable.

***

Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen when you finally make it inside. The music dulls down when you close the backyard door and the ringing in your ears is now silent. 

You resolve to stay inside until the fireworks go off. No one is really paying attention to you anyway—most of them are drunk, others too absorbed in the music and gossip so it’s a perfect chance for you to duck away and show your face again next year.

Should you tell Toji goodbye?

No.

No, you hardly know the man. Just a few hours in good company and a kiss that almost happened that you probably would have let escalate. You probably would have let his tongue slide into your mouth. Probably would have let him pull you into one of the spare rooms, eat you out until you’re seeing stars, and then bend you over the edge of the bed to fuck you until he—

For fuck’s sake.

You yank open one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a glass. You need water because your body is piping hot. There’s a sheen of sweat on your neck beneath the layer of braids that fell when Toji laid his cheek on your head, and your hands are slick as they press into the counter to give you strength to peek into one of the lower shelves. Of course, the only one in the cabinet would be on the highest shelf. Of course, you’re too fucking short.

You climb onto the counter, knees digging into the off-white surface as you lift yourself up and peer into one of the higher shelves. You spot a glass, and you can have a heaping glass to cool yourself off enough to get you home. And then you can just use your vibrator once and go to sleep. Or twice. Or maybe a third time to get the thought of him out of your mind for the foreseeable future. 

Unbeknownst to you, he’s standing behind you. You didn’t even hear the back door open and close. But you catch a glimpse of a long, muscular arm reaching past your ear to grab the glass. You’re frozen, your fingers digging into the wooden shelf, unable to turn around and face him, even though you can feel his gaze hot on your skin.

Your plan is shattered, and you have no choice but to come up with an excuse to leave him. You’re combing through scenarios in your mind as you slowly slide down and perch yourself on the countertop, finally facing him. He places the glass on the counter, away from you, and closes the distance between you until the ridges of his clothed abs brush against your knees. His hands are searing against your skin as they rest on your knees and you watch his thumbs trace an obscure pattern with a touch that is featherlight. 

“Your uncle interrupted us,” Toji finally speaks, his voice carrying a hint of hopefulness despite his attempt to maintain a neutral expression. His gaze, so harsh and sharp, is alluring in its own way, tempting you to relax the steady clench of your thighs.

“It probably wasn’t a good idea anyway,” you chuckle, self-deprecation rising to the surface of your skin and prickling against the pores.

“Why not?”

Maybe because you would be too much for him and scare him away? Maybe the fear of being too demanding in bed, of not being able to stop once he kisses you, lingers in your thoughts, making the idea of having him only once and never again infuriating.

“I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I’ll get you water and let you sneak away when the fireworks go off because I know you want to…even though you shouldn’t give a fuck about what your family thinks…but I would really like that kiss.”

Analyzing his features, you take in the sincerity reflected in the moss-green of his eyes. It’s a last-ditch effort to make sure something else isn’t hiding there, and you find yourself coming up short.

Slowly, you part your legs for him to stand between. His hands slide up your thighs tantalizingly slow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before pushing the fabric of your red sundress up to your waist. You try to ignore the way the cool air on your panties does little to quell the heat radiating from them. His hands wrap around your waist and a gasp heaves from your lips when he yanks you to him, your thighs brushing the sides of his thick waist. 

One of the hands on your waist trails up to the side of your neck, gently tilting your head up, so you can look fully at him as his thumb traces the skin of your bottom lip.

“You better make it good,” you challenge, hoping your faux annoyance can mask the anticipation building in your gut.

He sees right through it and simply hums before he leans down to finally seal his lips against yours. He’s a big man, an overwhelming man, and you feel it in his kiss as his lips take every ounce of breath you have in your lungs. He tastes like the pound yellow cake that everyone got to before you could and a hint of beer and it’s the perfect combination that you want more of. 

His hands are under your dress, brushing beneath your thighs for traction and pulling you impossibly closer to the point where you feel your clothed center brush against the zipper of his jeans. You dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt, twisting and silently commanding for him to give you more. You open your mouth to coax him and his tongue is wet and insistent against yours.

You can feel your resolve dissipating in the air, fizzling against the heat that radiates from your body and your self-control is walking on a tightrope, precariously and seconds away from falling. And once it’s gone, you’ll be a woman unhinged.

He yanks you to him again as if its not enough, harder this time with a growl in the back of his throat that makes you gasp into his mouth, then rolls his hips against yours and behind his zipper you feel him hard and bulging and angry and oh—

You pull away with a harsh breath, gasping for air and biting back a moan that gurgles in your throat when his mouth works its way down the skin of your neck. Your skin is sensitive, and it buzzes with the touch of his lips and invokes a fervent need so deep within you that you’re losing awareness of where you are. You’re lightheaded, brain in the fucking stratosphere and you have to lay down, you have to—

He’s guiding you onto your back before you can do it yourself and the cool counter is a balm against the skin of your exposed shoulders and back. He looms over you from his place between your legs, big and muscular and reeking of hunger. 

“Toji,” you try to speak into the air, stifling a whimper at the sight of him stretching out your leg to rest on his shoulder.

One of his large hands caresses the canvas of your calf before you watch his lips kiss your chocolate skin. His rough scar scratches against you in the most delightful way as his mouth kisses up your calf, bends your leg to get closer, and then resumes his touch on the inside of your thigh. His face should be melting with the amount of heat emitting from between your legs, but he must relish in the burn because the second his tongue slides thick and wet against your clothed cunt, you whimper pathetically into the air.

You have just enough common sense to break from the desire to be fucked thoroughly to whisper.

“Toji, we can’t,” you swallow against the dryness in your throat. “Someone could see.”

You can feel the impatience on his body in waves but he has to listen to you. If your family were to walk in here right now to see their niece or cousin being eaten out like a gourmet meal, the Earth would swallow you whole.

“Shit,” he hisses, pulling you into his arms and carrying you out of the kitchen. You don’t care enough to tell him where to go; you’re too hot, too wet in your panties, and your need is twisting at the base of your spine in the most irritating way, begging to be soothed. 

You hear the beginnings of fireworks being popped off in the backyard and your family is loud, thankfully so loud as Toji locks the door to the bathroom and drops you unceremoniously onto the counter. Though the metal of the faucet digs into the small of your back and you fall into the mirror as you clamber to get yourself in order, you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s on you again, all teeth and lips and sinful tongue in your mouth with equally sinful hands digging impatiently into the sides of your panties.

“Take them off,” you demand, practically whining and in less than a second you can only get one leg out before he’s sinking to his knees, eyes wild and shoulders heaving with untamed breaths. 

“God, you’re so fucking wet. So damn pretty,” he whispers in reverence, throwing your legs over his shoulders, and the compliment makes your cunt throb in anticipation.

You can’t be sure if he’s talking to you or himself. Before you can breathe to calm yourself, it’s catching in your throat, hitching against a moan as his tongue licks a long wet stripe up the slit of your dripping cunt. His tongue parts your folds as if it’s the sea, savoring your essence and then sucking your clit into his mouth like it’s the cherry on top and you love it, whine at the feel, eyes crossing and rolling into the back of your head at the exquisite feeling.

He pulls away for a moment, taking a deep breath as if to regain control, and kisses the inside of your thigh before sliding two fingers up your dripping center, collecting your slick before beginning to rub circles on your clit. He’s mesmerized, and you take a moment to marvel at just how little of his green eyes are visible to you, his pupils are dilated with hunger and focused on the way your cunt moves with his fingers.

“Your bitch of an ex ever eat you out?”

You really don’t want to think about him right now, and you also don’t like the thought of someone feeling like they need to prove themselves to you.

But there’s a big man between your thighs who wants to unwrap you like candy. So you shrug, panting softly as you speak, “Every now and then.”

Toji scoffs, eyes seeming to darken like a forest at night.

“Every now and then,” he parrots, voice incredulous as if he’s heard the most insane thing ever, like he can’t believe it.

He increases the pressure on your clit harshly, causing you to buck against him, yelping in satisfied shock when he flicks your sensitive bud hard with his tongue.

“I’ll make you feel good, princess. Don’t you worry.” 

The nickname doesn’t have the effect as before. No, this time you moan in response, your guts churning with satisfaction at the prospect of being worshiped.

Slowly the two fingers on your clit slide into you, testing the waters, gauging if you’re okay, and your jaw slackens at the feel of the stretch. Fingering is an art, an act that requires patience and skill. You have to know the right pace, when to curl, how to know a woman’s body to determine what she wants. It’s glorious when it’s done right. 

And god, does Toji do it right.

He’s thorough and fluid in his strokes, using the tempo of your moans to curl at just the right time and sucking and licking your clit like he’s ravenous and your head is falling back into the space between your shoulder blades, eyes wide with disbelief as you stare at the ceiling. 

The fireworks are consistent outside, popping off every second and it’s loud enough that you have the courage to voice how Toji is making you feel. 

“Every now and then,” he hisses again to himself, angry and curling his fingers a little harder. You jerk against him, whimpering like a fool when you feel his tongue flick your clit harder as a reward. “He’s so fucking stupid. You taste so good, it’s unbelievable.”

He’s curling more now, brushing against that spongy wall that zings heat to your belly. Your insides churn, a molten heat popping to splatter against the base of your spine, pleasure coaxing you to reach that precipice that will let you fall apart. 

Vaguely you hear him whispering words into the skin of your thighs that you can’t decipher, the thrumming in your ears too loud to hear anything else beyond the fireworks outside, your escalating moans, and the obscene sounds of him slurping you up. The muscles in your thighs begin to tighten, your fingers are sweaty as they slide against the cool marble of the bathroom counter, and you dig your wedges into the muscles of his back, white panties dangling off one ankle. He’s so good, so thorough and your breath is hitching, choking on a moan.

“There you go princess, cum all over my fingers. Get me nice and messy.”

His deep words are accompanied by a sharp bend of his fingers and you’re cumming with a shout, rejoicing in the hot pleasure that puddles along your bones. It’s abrupt and overwhelming, pulling a sharp current down your body that makes your back arch until it bumps into the sink behind you. He’s groaning from his place between your legs, still pumping his fingers and licking your clit to collect as much of your slick as he can.

By the time you look down at him, you’re still catching your breath, your thighs tremble from the sudden chill injected into your muscles. You catch Toji just in time to watch him begin to slip his two dripping fingers into his mouth, but you snatch his wrist, riding off the high of your orgasm to slip his digits into your mouth instead. Thin rings of green widen in surprise and you savor the way his cheeks darken as you swirl your tongue around his digits.

“You’re unreal,” he gulps when you pop his fingers out of your mouth.

You shrug, not willing to show him just how powerful you feel, and wrap your legs around his waist, panties still caught on the buckle of one of your wedges. 

“I’m letting you be nice to me, remember? So what’s next?”

With a harsh pull, he stumbles closer to you, his hands slamming against the marble counter on either side of your waist. His breath hitches as you hastily undo his belt, eyes widening as he takes in the way you leer up at him. 

“You got me a drink, defended my honor from my bitchy aunt, asked me about my family, ate my pussy…you wanna fuck me now?”

“I—” he starts, caught off guard by your forwardness.

“You want to bend me over this counter, make me look in the mirror while I take your cock? Smack my ass and make me beg for you to fill me up?”

“You’ve got a mouth on you,” Toji chokes on a nervous laugh, hissing when your fingers graze the sensitive skin above his belt. 

“Is that a problem?”

The hair of his happy trail is faint and dark just like the hair on his head, and your touch makes his stomach bunch in sensation. He shakes his head in response and you want to laugh so bad at the sight of him struggling to swallow. You haven’t done anything to the man, but he’s sensitive to your touch, and that makes the blood in your veins sing.

“If you’re letting me have you, you can have it however you want.”

Arousal hums to life between your legs, and you can’t help but be turned on at how much he’s giving you. You want him now and while the prospect of being fucked over the counter was what you had hoped, if your family comes in and hears you taking it like a champ, you’ll never show your face again.

So when the door to your truck’s backseat closes, you’re climbing back on his lap, relaxing further into him with the knowledge that you can be as noisy as you want. Your uncle has a seven-month supply of fireworks and land in the middle of nowhere, Hennessey, and classics booming from his sound system… it’s going to be loud for a very long time. 

You’re running on your own current of desire at this point, pawing at his shirt so he can finally yank it off his shoulders and you’re drooling. He’s glorious and you don’t hesitate to rub your hands down firm pectorals, between the abs on his torso, and along the musculature of his Adonis belt. He’s cut like a marble statue, something that takes a painstaking process to hammer and smooth over until the result is almost—

“Let me take you out,” he suddenly suggests, voice gravelly with want but insistent.

Huh?

You’re immediately puzzled, eyebrows dipping into a furrow as you try to decipher his words. His hair is wild, black strands splintering and bushy but still giving you a gateway to his eyes and you see that he’s completely serious.

“On…a date?” A lift of his thin eyebrow in reply and the reality of him actually showing interest flags dangerously against your desire to ride him into oblivion. “Just the dopamine talking, I’m sure,” you say, hoping to dismiss the idea. You hadn’t expected him to actually…want to take you out. You can’t think about that right now because your head is too thick with hunger to try and have a conversation.

He hums, low and dangerous, a hand brushing the skin above your clit and you’re reminded of just how wet you still are from his sloppy tongue minutes before. 

“You’re the only one here that’s cum, princess. I’m being serious.”

“It’ll pass,” you reply immediately, licking into his mouth to shut him up.

Thankfully he doesn’t try to interject because you don’t have time to talk right now—you don’t want to. You don’t know Toji, not well enough. While tonight has been one of the most relaxed evenings you’ve spent with a man in a long time, you’re unsure if he genuinely wants you or if he’s merely carried away by the thrill of being with a woman.

He tried to come onto you the minute he laid eyes on you, tried to kiss you after a few hours, and pocketed your panties even though you pretended to be oblivious. You just don’t know. If you had a pretty girl in your lap, you would probably say the same things. Ask her on a date, make her feel wanted so she’s more giving when you slide her panties off.

It’ll pass.

And that’s what you tell yourself when you feel his large hands palm your ass beneath your sundress. You are teeth against him, nipping his tongue, biting the skin of his jaw, the meat of his neck, and the sharp groan that you pull from him in response makes you drip like a bitch in heat against his jeans.

“Take off your pants,” you whisper to him sharply, turning around and leaning over the center console to fish a condom from inside. You had discovered them months ago, and they should have been more than enough for you to dump your ex then.

“Shit,” you hear Toji hiss from behind you before your ass stings from his slap against it. You yelp, jumping from the contact and you hope he can see your cunt pulse from between your thighs in response. “Hurry up, baby.” 

When you face him again, you freeze, eyes widening at the sight of his cock. As you take him in, he snatches the condom from your hand and unfurls it on his cock.

Surprisingly trimmed with dark hair, he’s thick—not enough to be painful—but enough to enjoy the stretch so you can ride him until he flatlines and enjoy the ache in your thighs in the morning. It’s perfect; pale with a red tip that leaks into the tip of the condom, a vein along the side that you can’t lick without tasting latex. It’s a shame.  

He throws you that devilish smirk, eyes twinkling in pride before he taps his thigh and beckons you like the best ride at the carnival.

“Hop on, princess.”

Your fingers grip the hair at his nape when you feel him inside of you. It’s a delicious stretch that you have to breathe through, and the feel of his hands affectionately stroking your back catches you off guard. You don’t hate it; in fact, you want to lean into it, but you don’t want to give him any ammunition for something you aren’t sure about. So you slide down to the hilt and listen to Toji curse sharply through the sudden heat of you before you start a steady rhythm that throws him off.

Within seconds, you increase your pace, riding him with an intensity that makes the air in your throat catch and drag along the sides. He’s got a satisfying curve to him that grazes those magical spots within you to make the grip on his nape tighten like a vice. Your head is foggy with an overpowering mist that makes your mouth loose and your inhibitions low.

“You feel so good,” he whispers, pulling you out of the delirium you were basking in to focus on him. His jaw is relaxed, hot air puffing from between an open mouth and onto the skin of your neck, a few strands of his hair stick to his forehead and the sides of his cheeks and there’s a slight furrow to his thin eyebrows as if he’s trying to concentrate.

You’re giddy with desire. “Let me guess,” you tease, lips brushing against his. “Am I tight?”

“Yes,” he replies without hesitation, eyelids hooded and upper cheeks darkening with a blush that spreads down his neck.

“Am I nice and hot?”

“Yes, fuck yes, baby.” 

It’s meant to tease, because every man that has ever slid inside of you in the past says the same shit, but to hear it from him brings a strange sense of satisfaction that you find yourself slanting your lips against his. He still tastes like the yellow cake that you never got, but the flavor is intertwined with the remnants of your essence that still lingers on his tongue that dances with yours. 

You plant your knees harder into the seat on each side of him, use your muscles to bear down and give you more control, and then you roll your hips, guiding him in and out in a tantalizing dance that elicits groans from him and makes him roll his head back against the headrest.

“Let me take you out,” he gasps into the air and you refuse to answer him—you can’t. It’s harder now to believe his sincerity because he’s delirious with lust. “Answer me.”

You growl softly and yank your hands from his hair to push down the straps of your sundress. You’re not wearing a bra, and he cusses like he just stubbed his toe as he watches your breasts spill free.

“Stop talking,” you whisper and yank his head forward, beckoning him to you and he catches on quickly, licking and sucking a nipple before pulling it into his mouth. The sensation makes you shudder, a gentle pleasure that your cunt appreciates and you pick up your pace on him again. “Stop asking me. Just let me fuck you.”

He bites down in retaliation to pull a squeak from you and licks over the sting in a half-assed apology. When you look down, his gaze is illuminated by the streetlights, a harsh glare that showcases his annoyance with your deflection, but his eyes droop when you squeeze around him in response.

You’re stuffed full of him, stretching along the sides, punching the air out of your throat with each bounce on his cock and your legs begin to burn with the build-up of exertion. Your nipples are wet and sensitive against his taste buds as he teases each peak into his hot mouth and it helps to mix that pot of pleasure in your stomach to life again. 

You can feel it, like a crescendo of waves crashing against a dock, but the waves are coming in quicker and more turbulent with every moan and cry that falls from your lips. You push him off of your chest, dig your fingers into his shoulders for more leverage so you can ride his cock like you have nothing left to lose.

His chest is blooming red, covered in a light sheen of sweat that dips between his pectorals and pools in his collarbones. Your bun of braids came loose when he was eating you out in the bathroom, and now some are heavy on your skin with sweat and plaster over your shoulders and between your sternum and you’re hot and sweaty and trying so hard to reign it in. 

He doesn’t buck up into you and you’re unsure if it’s due to laziness or the fact that he simply wants to watch you while he brings himself closer to climax. You hope it’s the latter. 

“Do you like this?” you pant into his mouth and nip his bottom lip. “You can tell me, you know. Be a good boy and tell me just how I’m making you feel.”

He groans and lands another smack to your ass that makes you gasp and arch further into him. It's the right amount of pain that makes your pussy pulse in response, the right amount of manhandling that can take you higher in a second.

“You’re a natural, princess. You ever ride him like this?”

You shake your head and he smacks your ass again, harder this time and digs his fingertips into the flesh to let the sting linger. It's so good, and you can't help the whine that you puff against his lips as he smirks up at you with a proud disposition.

“He couldn’t handle it. Probably why he cheated wasn’t it? You were too much for him. You know how you like it and he couldn’t deliver.” 

You don’t answer him, but he’s right. He’s so right. He couldn’t stand it when you took control, hated when you asked him to do something that didn’t result in him being dominant, hated when he couldn’t even eat pussy without you having to ask. 

The feel of his fingers on your clit makes you jump and you poke your fingers into his nape again and pick up your pace, panting and moaning like you’re running a marathon as the pleasure rocks inside of you like a pendulum. 

“Oh god. Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whisper, stomach burning.

You’re fluttering around him—pulsing and clenching and gushing over the thickest cock you’ve ever had and it’s glorious, you’re in fucking heaven.

The streetlight shines faintly into your truck, painting half of Toji’s face. He’s beautiful; that same annoying flicker of desire that captivated you when his green eyes met yours hours ago glimmers thin and dilated.

There’s a ruggedness to him that exudes masculinity, but glimpses into the depths of his eyes reveal a tender vulnerability that makes you wonder how soft he could be if he allowed you to get close enough.

The thought makes your cunt tighten around him, your thighs tense and fill with lactic acid and his fingers on your clit are unceasing, rubbing in a precise rhythm that makes you hiccup on a moan of incredulity. The hand not occupied with your clit is reclined across the headrest behind him and it makes him look unbearably sexy.

“I’ve never had a woman ride me like this,” he whispers, and you smile into his mouth, your kiss messy as you swallow down his compliment. He yanks you away and breathes that same insufferable ask against your lips.

“Let me take you out.” He rubs your clit faster, using the way you tighten around him as a guide to your pleasure, and his hand leaves the headrest to dig into the meat of your ass. “One chance. One dinner. I’ll give you what you deserve, whatever you want, princess. I promise just—”

“Stop it,” you whine and fight the burning sensation in your eyes. You’re so close, so fucking close and the storm inside of you is out of control but he won’t stop fucking talking. Won’t stop being so damn nice even though his cock is rearranging your guts in the nastiest way. You grip his hair and pull him closer to you so there’s no space between you to breathe. “Stop talking. Stop asking. Make yourself useful and make me cum.”

Thankfully he does. He scowls up at you behind the curtain of his hair but pinches your clit and you squeal, rolling your hips, riding him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. The windows have already fogged up, the truck rocks with your movements, and you are consumed with a blissful incoherence that forces you to surrender and let your walls crumble.

Your thighs burn, your dress clings to your sweaty body, and the stimulation on your clit becomes almost unbearable as you whine with the need to cum. He hisses loudly into the car, bares his teeth for a second, and then his eyes roll before he’s slack-jawed and panting into stuffy air, a current of groans beneath.

“That’s it, Toji,” you gasp, voice strained as you teeter on the brink of an orgasm that threatens to overwhelm you. “Be nice to me just like you said and give me everything like the good boy you are.”

The hand not on your clit slips against the sweat on your hips, and you lick up the side of his neck, savoring the salt taste of his perspiration on his smooth skin, just in time to hear him. It’s faint and low, practically a whisper but he chants--

‘Fuck yes, fuck yes. So fucking good. Ride me, sweetheart.’

It’s tilted in a whine, pathetically desperate, but the sound of him does the trick because the flick of his fingers on your clit makes the biggest wave of pleasure crash over you.

You don’t get the chance to tell him you’re cumming, you simply yank his head back from the sudden force, tilt your head up to the ceiling and cum with an exhausted and wrung out ‘fuck!’ that you’re sure your uncle’s neighbors will hear a mile down the road. You’re dumbfounded with pleasure, dizzy with it and your belly is hot and simmering as you gasp and whimper at just how good it feels. 

He’s laying you back on the seat before you can catch your breath. You’re still coming down, still moaning to catch up but his large hands are under your knees and bending them towards your chest to chase his own orgasm. The edge of the seat digs into the crevice of your spine, and your hand flies out to smack against the back of the driver’s seat so you don’t fall but it slips with sweat, is hard to hold onto and you can hardly focus with everything that’s going on. 

His mouth is on you, stealing your breath that you still can’t control, swallowing your moans as he fucks you with a ferocity that pulls your soul from your body. He pulls away with a deep moan and stares down at you with a look that makes you anxious—like he wants to see you again, like he wants to come to another cookout with your rowdy family if it means he can bother you some more—like he really likes you. 

You know he’s going to try and say something that you may not be able to talk yourself out of, so you take the intense furrow in his eyebrows and the stuttering of his hips as a cue.

“You gonna cum?” you purr up at him, moaning weakly from the harsh thrusts that stroke you into overstimulation.

“Yes,” he answers without fail, eyes locked on yours. “Yes, I’m gonna cum. Fuck—”

Reaching up, you cup his cheek, unsure why but feeling an inexplicable need, and the words that fall from your lips help him across the finish line. 

“Cum inside me, Toji. Take what you want and fill me up.”

His eyes widen before they roll closed and he’s slamming against you three times hard and rough before the deepest moan you’ve ever heard slips past his lips. He pants heavily stuttering tiny thrusts into you as he comes down, the tips of his hair drip a few drops of sweat onto your neck before he lowers himself to rest on top of you. He’s too big for the seat and his knee digs into the floor of the truck to maintain his balance. His hot breath washes over your neck, slowly calming down, and in your daze, you realize that you’re holding onto his shoulders. 

The hard lines of Toji that you noted when you first saw him now feel gentle against you.

He rumbles your name into your neck and you’re cutting him off before the dopamine can speak for him. 

“We should get back inside before someone finally notices that we’ve been gone.” He abruptly lifts to look down at you, annoyance etched on his devastatingly handsome face. He wants to argue, you can taste it, but your fear wins. “My bitchy aunt has been at me all night, the last thing I need is her snooping.”

He’s quiet still, the edge of his lips curling into a dissatisfied frown. It stretches his scar in a way that takes away from the beauty of his face. Makes him look more alien and you have to pull your gaze from him. But he doesn’t argue like you think he would. He doesn’t speak or try to talk back or voice how annoyed he is.

He slowly pulls out of you and you immediately miss the feeling, ties off the condom, and pulls you up tenderly from the seat. Your skin is sticky and the truck reeks of sex. The high has worn off and all that remains is the overwhelming unease that rises like bile in the back of your throat. 

When you both are finally dressed and creeping out of the backseat, the cool air is a welcome feel to your overheated skin. It washes away your trepidation, if only for a moment. Toji looms over you, tall like a bear that you desperately want to sink your embrace back into, but he still doesn’t speak, and the crease of annoyance between his brows doesn’t leave. He should hold onto it. It will help him get over you. 

“Do you mind getting my purse from inside the house? I don’t want to go back inside just yet and I need to check my phone.”

Impatience emanates from his every pore, yet you can sense his anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. But he still doesn’t fight and makes his way back inside without a word.

You lied.

Your purse is in the front seat of your car—you threw it up there when you both snuck into the vehicle in the first place, but his attention was too busy trying to feel you up than pay attention to the satchel hanging off your shoulder. 

Once you see the front door close, you get into the front seat, start your car, and drive away without a second thought. Your hands grip the steering wheel tightly as the temptation to turn back tugs at you. 

It may not be right to leave without saying goodbye, and lying to him has left a bitter taste in your mouth. Your family is too occupied with the fireworks and each other’s company to really notice your absence anyway, and you’re sure they’ll have no problem trying to distract Toji when he realizes that you’re gone. 

The grip on the wheel doesn’t lessen, but you roll down the windows and let the evening July air wash away some of the sex that still lingers on the seats.

***

“So you did fuck him,” your cousin snickers over the speaker of your phone a week later. 

It’s a Saturday night and you’re knee-deep in your wash day routine. It took you all day to take out your braids and the clear shower cap on your head traps the deep conditioner inside. You wipe away some of the excess near your ear.

You have Chinese waiting to be delivered, and you’re ready to finish your routine so you can go to bed. Your eyes are glued to your television playing some sort of nature documentary but your attention is elsewhere, specifically on trying to worm your way out of this conversation with your cousin. She’s called you every single day since the 4th and she’s done nothing but make you feel guilty about your abrupt departure. 

As you expected, your family didn’t really notice your absence. But when Toji asked your cousin for your purse and then realized you had lied, he sulked in a lawn chair for the rest of the night before Shiu drove him home.

“Yes, I fucked him. So what?”

“Soooo do something about it. Fuck him again? He lives in the same city as you and is here indefinitely. Make a move—”

“It was a nice night, but he was already trying to flirt with me as soon as he saw me and I still entertained him and fucked him and—I shouldn’t have done that…I should have waited, maybe tested the waters more. He only tried to ask me out because he was horny as hell.”

She’s quiet on the other line, and you look up at the ceiling in exasperation because you can feel her annoying logic rev up before she fires away.

“So you’re just scared? Your ex cheated on you because he was a spineless pissy boy who slithered away because you didn’t take his shit. That’s not a reflection of you, at all. I know you like to have it all figured out before you make a decision, but not everything works out that way. Toji saw a fine ass black woman who talks her shit and he made a move. He’s a nice guy...a little rough around the edges, but truly…a nice guy. Someone for you.”

James Attenborough elegantly voices something about the cuttlefish on the screen while you try to contemplate what to say. She’s right. You hate that she’s right. It’s why you two are so close but still you retort in the best way you know how.

“Girl, fuck you.”

Her raucous laugh vibrates over the speaker in delight and you snort and roll your eyes when the doorbell cuts you off. The prospect of your Chinese food makes your mouth water and you’re rushing to the door.

Only it’s not your Chinese food at the doorstep, it’s Toji Fushiguro. Toji Fushiguro who is protected from the rain under the overhang of your apartment door with one hand in the pocket of his jacket and the other clutching a container. The annoyed look that you last saw on his face is gone, replaced by a neutral and bored look that seems natural for him, even though his eyes don’t convey that specific emotion. Those green eyes are reminiscent of your uncle’s well-maintained lawn as they look down at you with a nervous glint. 

“Toji,” you breathe in disbelief. “How did you get my address…”

Your cousin squawks on the other line and swallows a giggle. “I’m gonna go—”

“Your cousin finally gave it to me.,” he replies simply and gestures down to the phone in your tight grip. “I’ve been trying to get it since you fucking left.”

“Damn, thanks?!” she barks at him. “Lemme get out of here, I’m getting another call anyway. Bye!”

You’re going to kill her. Slowly. Painfully and maybe in front of Shiu to get a few tears out of him if you’re feeling particularly evil. 

You know she’s right about Toji, but you can’t do this. You shouldn’t have fucked him in the first place and you should have thought of a backup plan on the off chance that your cousin was going to be annoying and nosy as hell.

You ignore his intense and heavy gaze, shifting in discomfort, scratch the back of your neck, and blanch in horror when your fingers brush the edge of your shower cap. You’re wearing a large t-shirt, your feet are bare and your head is covered in a shower cap with deep conditioner leaking from the sides; a stark contrast from the calm and collected woman who snapped at him all day a week ago. Mortification washes over you in a heavy wave, drowning your mantra of not giving a fuck about a man’s opinion, and you step back to grab the door.

“Listen…I’m waiting for food and then I have to get ready for work in the morning. So you need—”

“You have time to spare then,” he cuts off and walks past you. You round on him, indignant in your gaze.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?! Get out, Toji!”

“You want me to leave? Hmm?” he asks, goading you like you don’t know if you’re sure.

You’re not sure, but—“Yes, goddammit! I shouldn’t have left but I don’t do this sort of thing! The moment you met me, you only wanted to get in my pants. And that makes you trying to ask me out while your cock is inside of me, a lot harder to believe!”

He firmly places the container in his hands on your kitchen counter, takes a deep breath to calm himself, and gives you a look that either makes you want to melt into him or slap it off his face.

“Listen—”

You’re on the defensive now, backed into a corner and ready to pull every card you have to just make him go away. “You here for a quick fuck then? Because you got me to let my guard down and because we had such a steamy time in the backseat of my truck, you thought, what? You could just show up and bend me over my couch?”

That flicker of irritation is back on his face and it crinkles the edges of his eyes, makes him look nasty and hostile.

“Fuck, will you stop—”

“Wanna have a little ‘situationship’ while you get acquainted with your new life here? Have me get nice and comfortable and as soon as I ask for something more, you’re jumping ship. Sounds like a good plan, doesn’t it?”

A sharp growl leaves his throat and he glares.

“Girl—” he starts and immediately stops, eyes wide as saucers at the venomous gaze that you shoot his way. There it is, a hint of a name to make you feel small and insignificant. It reminds you of your parents when you used to talk back and they slid the name to you in a warning to stop talking. You hate it and it stings that you have to hear it from him.

“Get out,” you bark, seething with a rage that brings a sting to your eyes. 

He throws up his hands in frustration, looming like a bear from his place in your kitchen. “Will you just stop it!”

“I said—”

“Oh my fucking god—I like you!” 

His admission catches you off guard, cutting through your anger, and you stare at him in astonishment. His face is red with embarrassment, eyes trained up at the ceiling as if asking the gods to give him patience. He takes a deep breath before meeting your gaze from across the kitchen.

“You don’t do this sort of thing?” he asks, gesturing between the two of you. You can’t find the words to respond, still too shocked, so you simply nod. 

“What sort of thing is that? Flirting with you because you looked like the sexiest little thing in that backyard and I wanted your attention?” He’s annoyed, deep voice razor sharp as he speaks, but you don’t miss the step he takes closer to you.

“Me trying to make you feel better because your family is judgmental? Teaching me about the food you like because I’m not from here?”

He’s closer now and the air is thin again just like that night a week ago.

“Helping me win that little card game?” It’s spades, but you’re too lightheaded with how close he is to correct him. “Telling me about your family? What sort of thing is that? Hmm? Tell me.” 

You don’t have a retort. You’re too stunned to speak even though you refuse to let the annoyed expression on your face vanish. You want to hold onto what little shreds of defiance you have left.

“You aren’t mean. You don’t tolerate bullshit, you don’t fuck around, and you put people in their place. You refuse to settle for less, and I already told you that’s what I like in a woman…And I like you.”

What do you even say? You never expected to see him again, and your mind is muddled as if you’re submerged in water. Your heart feels too big in your chest, your body too hot and sweaty and you’re nervous. He’s angry with his confession, almost annoyed and you’re beginning to realize that it is an emotion that’s second nature to him even if it’s not as intense as you think it is. 

“Is that right?” you can’t help but test him, lifting a brow. You have to crane your neck just a little to look up at him.

He scoffs, the crease in his eyebrows smooths out and the scar on his lips twitches. 

“Yea, that's fucking right. So…” he takes one more step closer and his body is brushing against yours. He smells mildly of toothpaste and bergamot from another brand of cheap cologne and the combination makes you weak in the knees. “Let me take you out.”

It’s the same demand that you’ve heard so many times now, but this time, it feels more serious, more meaningful with a hint of desperation. In the kitchen light, you can see just how silky his raven locks are and you grip your phone and the fabric of your t-shirt to resist the urge to run your hands through them. 

“I’m listening,” you jest with a practiced air.

That wicked smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth, scar adding a devilish flair to his features, and your stomach burns with the realization that he’s too cocky for his own good, and you’ve unfortunately grown to like it. 

“Shiu has tickets for something here called…football? He’s taking your cousin and has two extra tickets. Come with me and show me how to win.”

You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth and your stomach flips at the genuine confusion on his face. “We don’t participate in the game. We watch it. But it’s fun.”

“All the more reason for you to come with me.”

“I…”

It’s a compelling argument, all of it is. And you want to, you really want to give this a shot and just be vulnerable for once. Because Toji seems like the kind of man who would let you be just who you are and would never make you feel lesser than about it. 

The feel of his large hands cupping your cheeks pulls you out of your thoughts, and he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. His eyes are mesmerizing, like the color of pine trees right before the sun sets and you feel yourself weakening completely.

“One date, princess.”

The deep timbre of his voice does little to help you and it’s worse because it’s just how he fucking talks. You’re not a royal, and you don’t have land, lots of money, or power, but you can tolerate ‘princess’ if it’s coming from his mouth. 

Just one date. You deserve it. You’ve earned the reward.

You wave away his hands from your face just so you can breathe a little easier. He chuckles but gives you your space, and makes his way to the door that you usher him towards. 

“Fine. Make sure you bring cash because it’s easier at the concession stands. I want a pretzel…and a hot dog.”

He snickers as he pulls his hood over his head, obscuring most of his face except for the ethereal glow of his eyes. His teeth shine from his bright smile and you roll your eyes in response before watching him open your door. 

“Toji?” you call, your voice softer…apprehensive.

He turns around to watch you shuffle to him, your feet and legs cold against the chill from the open door. You hand him your phone wordlessly and he takes the hint to insert his number. When he’s finished, you open your mouth to speak, lips shaping words that won’t come out—words you want to say. But you can’t. Not yet. Maybe one day.

For now, you throw him an annoyed eyebrow lift and grumble. “Parking is a real bitch, so pick me up early.”

You avert your gaze, frustrated at yourself for sounding so mean as usual. Because that’s just who you are. The bitter, mean—

A finger beneath your chin lifts your gaze to him and he kisses you full on the mouth, slow and reassuring, minty breath sliding into your mouth when he nips your bottom lip. The self-deprecating voice in your head finally quiets, smothered by a pillow held down by his scarred hands.

When he pulls away, that stupid smirk is on his face, but it’s not as teasing, and your heart does something weird in your chest that makes you swallow hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he replies finally to your demand.

You watch his eyes take in your form from head to toe before he kisses you quickly once more and ducks into the rain.

When you finally get your Chinese and place it on the counter to dig in, your eyes land on the container that was in Toji’s hands from earlier. 

You peek inside, and your heart does that weird thing again in your chest when you see a heaping slice of the yellow cake that you never got to have a week ago.

Thanks for reading! You can find the sequel here!

#Toji Fushiguro #Toji Fushiguro x Reader #Toji Fushiguro x Black Reader #Toji Fushiguro x black fem reader #Toji x you #Toji Fushiguro x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #black fem reader #black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #Maneater #mysteria157 #anime x black reader #Toji Fushiguro fanfic #jjk fanfic #Toji Fushiguro smut #Toji Fushiguro fluff #toji zenin #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #Toji fanfic #toji smut #toji x reader #toji jjk #jujutsu toji #soft Toji #jjk fic #jjk au

[wing-ed-thing]

Konoha 12 Domestic/Spousal Headcanons

Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Boruto Doesn't Exist, No Mentions of Children/Adoption

Completed versions of these headcanons will be linked on the character's name.

𓆃 Choji

THE BEST COOK ON THIS LIST NO ONE CAN COMPARE

Loves bonding over cooking and baking— whatever you like! If there's anything you're ever craving, Choji is taking to the kitchen to make you a gourmet meal as good as any professional chef!

Prime rib, lamb, tartare, croissants, macarons, soups! It doesn't matter your allergies or preferences, Choji can and will make you any food your heart desires.

Offers excellent cuddles. 11/10 squishy and soft.

Is very understanding, a fantastic listener, and naturally positive.

Never lets the romance l die, and after a hard day at work, will feed you ice cream while you rant about your day.

𓆃 Hinata

Traditional wife who has always wanted to be a traditional wife since she was a kid.

Content with cooking, doing laundry, and other domestic work.

Although, because of the society and the way she was brought up, she might feel insecure transitioning out of shinobi life.

While being made to feel weak isn't something Hinata is a stranger to, she is sensitive to comments from others about her domestic life.

Be sure to give her lot of reassurance and validate her work around the house.

𓆃 Ino

Also wanted to be a wife growing up, but the stay-at-home life is clearly not for her.

She'll try it for a period of time after your wedding or union, but she's far too restless for cooking and cleaning.

You supposed that she thought it would be relaxing and aesthetic, but if anything, she's getting frustrated and throwing the potato across the kitchen as soon as it slips out of her hand.

Ino will eventually find important work to do, come home to complain about it over dinner, and buy you something nice in a half-brag about how much more money she's making.

This is, of course, not to say she's bad at housework or doesn't do her share. She's perfectly good at domestic work and does the bulk of it, but the moment you expect it from her is the moment she stops.

𓆃 Kiba

A slob who, if allowed, will live in heaps of trash.

For the bulk of his 20s, he'll be super unsure of the whole settling down thing. You could make a whole bingo chart out of the cliche bachelor lines he spouts.

I'm not really a marriage kinda guy. I don't wanna tie myself down to a ball and chain. I just wanna meet people. I'm looking for someone who doesn't take themselves too seriously. Nah, I'm not looking for a relationship.

That is... until one day he wakes up and desperately wants a family of his own. To an extreme extent. Like his expectations are absolutely insane.

As a husband, you'll need to reevaluate those and have a nice long chat because at the beginning of your relationship he will certainly not be pulling his weight.

𓆃 Lee

Sweet, clingy, loving and sincere man.

Ah, you are the sun, the moon, and the world to Lee. He is constantly thinking of or doing the sweetest possible thing he possibly could for you at any given hour of the day.

Is his execution great? You'd give it a 50/50. Does he ever take a break? NO.

Whether it's breakfast in bed or going on a grocery run to get it off your plate, you're sure to have to put out one fire and learn how to use 20 carrots in your meal prep for the week.

He really tries his best, he just gets a little excited.

𓆃 Naruto

Another slob, although well intended.

Naruto never had a formal family growing up, and so he has little ideas of what's expected.

Much of his idea of what a partnership should be comes from media or stupid things that Shikamaru probably told him on the playground growing up, so you'll have to work together as a team to set expectations.

A lot of what he does for you is in his language (you have to learn that him making you both ramen cups is indeed a romantic gesture for him), but he loves exploring things that you like!

Naruto explores your likes and hobbies in a very genuine and non-performative way. Sharing things you enjoy together will be the foundation of your relationship.

𓆃 Neji

You'll spend your first year of marriage focused heavily on strict boundaries, expectations, and other couples work.

The way Neji was brought up completely fractured his sense of family. Not to mention, no matter what you're like Neji will certainly have to fight with his family in a silent battle over clan politics.

Because even though the Hyuga clan has stopped certain practices, doesn't mean that everyone in the clan is in mutual agreement or share similar attitudes with each other.

This will be a marriage built on structure and meaningful confrontation. Neji is determined to break the cycles of his family to make a healthy life with you.

𓆃 Sakura

Wasn't sure if she'd end up with a partner. She really wanted it, but with everything that happened in her life, she had her doubts.

Most definitely too hard on herself. Sakura pushes herself to almost fall over you to ensure you're pleased. Whether it's housework or cooking, there's a part of her that feels the need to prove her work ethic.

It's the small things with Sakura. Even after a long day at work, she'll still bring you your favorite home for dinner, even if the place is out of the way. She'll stay up an hour later to spend time with you even if she has an early morning.

𓆃 Sasuke

An ironic mix between Naruto and Sakura.

As a kid, Sasuke 100% wanted to be a husband when he grew up. 100% wanted to have a spouse to provide for and had similar dreams that some kids often do when they think about families.

But after the Uchiha Tragedy, much of Sasuke's outlook about his future has been skewed. Any relationship will start off as rather unstable and you can almost count on Sasuke being emotionally distant

It's about how the two of you work through his baggage and his willingness to be vulnerable.

𓆃 Shikamaru

Surprisingly well-adjusted?

He knows how to do basic life skills. Pulls his weight and sometimes even does your tasks. Shikamaru is generally clean and organized.

Where's the problem? He's terrified of commitment.

Most of the relationships in the Nara clan seem to consist of passive Nara men with verbose spouses who have no issue bossing their partners around.

But at the same time, Shikamaru doesn't mind this dynamic. He wants to laze, but he's also almost seemingly afraid of dynamics that allow him to laze.

He'll be just fine around the house, just a bit dramatic if you ever ask him to do anything. He'll get over it.

𓆃 Shino

Great husband and great family to marry into.

Just overall very balanced, if not quiet. The Aburame clan is close, but respectful of each other. You'll never have to deal with nagging in-laws because Shibi has already taken you in as one of his own.

Enjoy fresh meals of produce expertly tended to from the garden.

While Shino has his more talkative side when it comes to people he's close to, he's still quiet by nature. Don't expect that to change just because you've gotten married.

The obvious con is the massive amount of insects that will constantly be around you. You're not allowed to trap them or kill them.

You will have to get used to bugs crawling on you.

𓆃 Tenten

You're always doing something crazy.

You don't think any of the other Konoha 12 ever expected that Tenten would have the most exciting marriage, but look at her now.

You're always innovating, making new things for her business, and taking spontaneous trips to check out crafting techniques.

Anything and everything you set your mind to, you support each other in. There are ten million projects scattered around your home.

You roll up to get-togethers (when they seldom happen), being the most traveled and bringing the most unique gifts.

No one knows what you're going to be up to next.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I apparently had a lot more opinions on all of these characters than I expected. When I make multi-character posts, I like to keep each section sort of short, so if you are interested in more in-depth hcs, tap the underlined name or visit my blog for more.

Sakura, Lee, Choji, Tenten and Sasuke are done at the current moment.

#Shino x reader #neji x reader #naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #shikamaru x reader #choji x reader #ino x reader #kiba x reader #rock lee x reader #sakura x reader #tenten x reader #hinata x reader #choji akimichi #ino yamanaka #rock lee #kiba inuzuka #naruto uzumaki #neji hyuga #sakura haruno #sasuke uchiha #shikamaru nara #shino aburame #tenten #hinata hyuga #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #x you #x reader #reader insert

[sweetandgentlecreature]

Betcha Won't

Author’s Note: Hello again! I’m so sorry for missing my usual Thursday night upload last week. I was down and out with a migraine for a bit, but now I’m back in action! New avatar, same ole shit, lol. Part 6 of Somethin’ Sweet takes it back a bit with something nice and cozy. I apologize for breaking so many hearts two weeks in a row, so as promised, this one’s much softer. Thanks for reading!! 

Summary: Sy makes a camping trip to the lake a night they’ll never forget.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC 

Warnings:  hope you’ve got a dentist appointment on the books, because this is tooth-rotting fluff…minus the smut, of course. Expect a strip tease, descriptions of anatomy, oral sex (female receiving), and p-in-v- sex. I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.

Beta’d by: @peyton--warren ❤️

Playlist

“You got any more of that jerky?” They’d been walking for what felt like hours, but in reality was only 30 minutes. As a Colorado native, Merrin really should’ve been more prepared for a hike than this, but he’d really sprung it on her. She’d anticipated another night at the diner. Friday’s special was prime rib and baked potatoes, and though they’d only been at it for a few weeks now, she knew he wasn’t one to pass up a good meal. So when he showed up outside of her house and told her he had a surprise for her, she was keen to see what tricks he had up his sleeve. She just didn’t know their change of plans would include bug spray. Stumbling her way through the foliage of an unfamiliar path, she reached out an expectant hand in wait for her reward. Sy slapped another piece of cured venison into her palm and chuckled at the noises of delight she made as she happily gnawed on it. 

“That’s the last of it. If I’d known how much you’d like my meat, I would’ve brought more.” 

Merrin didn’t have to see his face to know how pleased he was with himself, and she gave a playful wack to the back of his head as they broke through the clearing. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Calm, clear water lapped at the pebbled shoreline of a vast lake surrounded by trees. It was a sight that took her breath away. A tent stood off to her left in the plush carpet of grass, filled with all the blankets and pillows he could gather in those big ole arms of his. A little further down, closer to the bank, a stack of freshly chopped firewood waited to be lit. It was a dreamy little scene, put together with so much forethought. He must’ve been working on it all afternoon. Merrin smiled as she took in the sight, and wrapped an arm around his waist to draw him close. “You did all this for us?”

He took a shot in the dark when he’d made the executive decision to move date night outdoors, and though he hoped she’d like the change in scenery, there was still a part of him that worried that she wouldn’t. Seeing her now, beaming up at him like he’d hung the moon when all he’d really done was fight with a flimsy tent pole for twenty minutes made it all worth while. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he smiled back down at her. 

“Nah, baby. I did it for you.”

__

They sat together on a blanket in the grass as the sun disappeared behind the trees. Sparks snapped and crackled on their way up to touch the sky. Merrin sat between his open knees and rested back against him. The old radio from the workshop was propped up by the cooler with the sound turned down low. Since his truck only had a tape deck, Sy had taken up making mixed tapes for her. Merrin tapped her toes to the beat as they watched the gentle waves roll in against the shore. He wondered what was on her mind as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger. What she said made his heart skip a beat.

“Twenty bucks says you won’t strip down to your skivvies and run into the lake right now.”

Her proposition caught him off guard, and he nearly choked on his beer. Snorting and coughing through the foam, Sy cleared his throat before he spoke. 

“Twenty bucks says what?!”

She giggled and turned to look up at him, a mischievous little grin spread wide across her freckled face. She sure likes to keep him on his toes. “You heard me.”

Sy laughed and shook his head. “Do you know how cold that water is? No way, Darlin’. I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna catch a cold for twenty bucks.”

Without missing a beat, she shrugged. “Fifty says you won’t do it bare-ass naked.”

He stopped. Now that could make for an interesting night. “ You ain’t gotta bribe me to get me naked, babydoll. All ya gotta do is ask.” 

Merrin stood and brushed the sand from the backside of her jeans. “Come on, Capitan, live a little. When’s the last time you did something fun?” 

Sy paused. She was right. Of course she was right. Before her, he couldn’t remember a time in the last decade that he’d let himself do something on a whim. Every t was crossed, every i was dotted. Sitting here by the fire tonight, he realized how much he’d missed out on by overthinking every decision he made. He could stand to lose a little resolve. Before he could make a move, though, Merrin was already kicking off her shoes. She peeled off her socks and tucked them away inside of her beat up sneakers, then worked to loosen her belt.

“Come on, Clay. You really gonna make me do it alone?”

 Sy sat back again for a moment to take in the sight. He’d been trying to come up with ways to get her out of those jeans all night long, yet here she was, baring herself to him out in the open like this. Any action they’d had up until now had taken place over the clothes. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her, because fuck, did he want her so badly. In truth, he’d been stalling. It’d been almost a year since he’d been with a woman, since before he met her, before his last deployment. Merrin was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and he just didn’t want to let her down. He knew he wouldn’t last very long once he finally had her. It was apparent now that he’d been stalling for so long that she’d decided to take matters into her own hands. She pulled him back down to earth when she tossed her panties at his face. He snatched them away eagerly to get a better look at her. 

“Well, get to it, then. I’ve shown you mine. Now you gotta show me yours.”

Snapping his mouth closed, Sy lept to his feet to toe off his boots. By the time he finished stripping, she’d already made it to the water.

Squealing in surprise, Merrin shuttered as the cold water lapped at her toes. Maybe skinny dipping wasn't such a good idea after all. When she turned round, ready to admit her misjudgment, she bumped right into him. His bare chest was warm against hers, and fuzzier than she’d imagined. She reached out to trace her fingers through the blanket of dark hair and let them trail down his stomach without a second thought. Heart pounding loudly in her ears, she fought to keep her gaze above the waist. Don’t look down, don’t look down, don’t- fuck. 

Fuck was right. One glance at what was waiting for her made her head spin. She didn’t have a chance to react though, before she was suddenly hoisted up into the air and thrown over a broad shoulder. Sy laughed as she squealed and squirmed to free herself from his grasp. 

“Nuh uh, no ma’am. Yer the one who wanted me out here. Time ta’ put yer money where yer mouth is. Now hold yer nose.” 

Merrin took a deep breath just in time, when they crashed together into the lake. Just as predicted, the water was freezing cold, and when she broke the surface again, Merrin let out a scream of surprise. Laughing through the shock, she stood and splashed him in retaliation. 

“Fuck, its cold!”

“I tried ta’ tell ya! Come here.”

Sy chuckled and wiped the water from his eyes, then held out a hand to her. Drawing her in close, he wrapped her up in his arms and swept damp strands of hair from her face. They held each other close and giggled like children beneath the moonlight. He looked down at her as their laughter faded to echoes, tracing each goosebump on her arm with the back of his knuckles. No matter how many times he’d imagined this moment, nothing could compare to the way she felt in his arms tonight. Skin on skin, knee deep in crystal clear water beneath a blanket of stars, not a cloud in sight. A lot had changed since he'd been here last, and though not all of it was good, he was thankful for it all. He’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant he could stay with her like this forever. 

__

Neither of them had to speak to know what would come next. Sy carried her back to shore and laid her down on the bed of pillows he’d crammed into the two-man tent. Neither of them cared that they were still wet from their dip in the lake. In the moment, it didn’t matter. The passion between them burned hotter than the smoldering embers of the campfire outside. She welcomed him onto her and tangled her arms around his neck as they kissed. No matter how close he got, it would never be close enough. She wanted him inside of her, body, mind, and spirit, but he had other plans for her. His lips brushed down her chin and he nuzzled upward until her head fell back in submission. The scratch of his beard against her throat and he kissed his way down felt delicious, and she ached to feel it all over. Though the cold weather made her nipples stand at attention first, they perked up for him now with each pass of his tongue. He caught one between his teeth, but only for a moment, long enough to put a smile on his face as he listened to her purr for him. 

“That’s it, Sugar. Sing for me.”

Merrin trembled when his tongue traced around the outside of her navel. Swallowing thickly, she dug her fingernails into the flesh of his shoulders and watched as he settled in to rest between her thighs. Merrin bit her lip as she watched him size her up from there. Maybe it was the beer that made her brave enough to make the first move, but laying beneath him now, she hoped he wouldn’t look too closely. Stretch marks snaked across her stomach and hips, cellulite dimpled the skin of her thighs and ass. Growing up, she’d always been a little heavier than her friends. It wasn’t until she’d gotten older than she’d become more comfortable in the body she was given. Sy looked up at her through lids heavy with lust, as if to read her mind. Sharp teeth carved gently across the inside of her knee to silence the thoughts running through her head. Arching her back, she bucked her hips up towards him to stop his teasing. 

“Sy…” Merrin begged through shaky breaths. “Please…”

He sat back on his haunches to admire her. She’d smack that look right off his face if she didn’t think her hands would tremble. He reveled in her desperation, and she knew that. Whining and squirming beneath him, she tried to close her legs in embarrassment. Sy caught her by the knees, one in each hand, and held them wider than before, clear up to her shoulders. 

“Nuh uh, little Miss Merrin,” he shook his head in feigned disappointment. “Tell me what’chu want from me.”

Her face turned beet red as blood rushed to her cheeks and spread down her neck as she turned her head to look away. He didn’t like that much. With both of her legs pinned beneath one rough hand, he redirected her by the chin to meet his eyes again. Sucking his teeth, he shook his head again. Say it. Just say it, and I’ll give you the world. He held her gaze and waited patiently for her to get the nerve to open her mouth again. Chuckling softly, Merrin let out a shaky breath as she reached for him. 

“I want you, Clay. More than anything.” 

“How? How do you want me?” 

Draping one of her legs over his shoulder, lips moving at a snail’s pace, Sy kissed his way all the way down. He had the patience of a saint. He could do this all night. Merrin, on the other hand…

“Fuck’s sake, Clayton Lee! Are you just gonna stare at it, or are you gonna eat my fuckin' pussy?”

That was all he needed. Confirmation, one way or another, that she wanted this just as much as he did. His laughter shook the tent, and in the blink of an eye, he dove right in. He spread her open with his thumbs and used the tip of his tongue to explore her weeping folds. Slow, precise, probing movements until he had the lay of the land, then it was game over. He devoured her, lips, tongue, and teeth working together to draw her close to the edge. Merrin mewled and moaned, head back and back arched, ass hovering above the ground as he held her thighs and shook his head from side to side. It wasn’t long before a familiar tightness began to blossom low in her belly, and before she knew it, he had her seeing stars.

He gave her space to come back down to earth again, and once she caught her breath again, he lowered her hips back down onto the blankets. Calloused thumbs rubbed soothing circles into the dips of her hip bones as he waited patiently for her word again. He wore the evidence of her arousal in his beard with pride, the sticky-sweet nectar gleaming in the glow of the nearby fire. Merrin ran a hand through her sweat-dampened hair and melted against the pillow beneath her head. 

“Well, shit…If I’d known you were so good at that, I would’ve stripped for you a lot sooner.”

Sy threw his head back and barked out a laugh that drew her own laughter with it. “Baby doll, all ya had ta’ do was ask. I’ve been dreamin’ about eatin’ that little pussy from the moment I first laid eyes on ya.”

But when she moved to sit up, he nudged her back down again. She frowned, confused. Didn’t he want her to return the favor? He simply shook his head, as he intertwined their fingers together and gave a squeeze of reassurance. 

“No, baby, it’s alright. I won’t last if ya do that fer me. Let’s save that fer another time.” 

Merrin laid back on her elbows and eyed him with reluctancy. She’d never met a man who’d turn down a blowjob, but whatever floats his boat, she guessed. Sy took a moment to reach over into his bag and retrieve the shiny little packet from the outside pocket. Good ole Sy, always planning ahead. He tore through it with his teeth and sat back to grip himself with his left hand. They both watched eagerly as the condom unrolled down his impressive length, and he sighed once he’d finished. Merrin wasn’t inexperienced, but the thought of him splitting her open on that thing had her stomach in knots. He could sense her apprehension, and truth be told, he was nervous too. In a fleeting moment of thought, he wondered if this is what it would’ve felt like to lose his virginity on prom night. He didn’t go to his senior prom, was too busy helping his uncle in the fields that spring, but the nerves he felt now sure felt that way. Every moment they’ve spent together had led up to this. Leaning in to brush his nose against hers, he whispered softly against her lips. 

“I’ll go slow. Just…tell me if it hurts, m‘kay?”

“Go slow,” She nodded slowly, repeating his promise out loud as if to make that promise to him too. Dragging the tip of his aching cock through her folds once, then once more, he gathered her wetness there to help smooth the tension. Merrin gasped when he caught at her entrance and breathed through the sting of the stretch her walls gave around him as he worked his way inside of her. Nice and slow, just as promised, he pulled out all the way and tried again and again, until he was fully engulfed inside of her. Hearts pounding in their chests, they clung to each other and worked together, two souls finally coming together as one. One spark, and they’d set the whole forest ablaze. 

The shock and awe melted away, leaving room for nothing but unbridled fervor. The gentle, probing shift of hips turned to hungry thrusts. Loud smacks of skin on skin only adding to the ambiance their bodies made. Sounds of lust echoed across the lake, creating a beautiful symphony with the radio and the woods. A bead of sweat dripped from the tip of his nose, seeking shelter in the dip of her collarbone. Painted fingernails left pink lines through the ink on his back. “More…more, more, more,” was all she could think to say, and more, he gave her. He gave her all he had, until he just couldn’t take it anymore. The cry of a warrior ripped through his chest, as he pounded her endlessly and emptied himself into the condom deep inside of her. She came too with a shout, body seizing and writing beneath him, as they rode out their shared climax. When everything was said and done, Sy collapsed on top of her with a grunt. They listened to the bullfrogs croak as they sought the breath they’d fucked out of one another. Moments passed, when Merrin finally broke the silence again. 

“Fuck.”

“Fuck yeah, or what the fuck was that?”

The grin she gave him was answer enough, as he turned over to lay beside her. 

“Fuck yeah.”

Sy chuckled, grabbing a blanket to pull over them to keep the cool night air out. Even though he hadn’t lasted as long as he would’ve liked, it certainly made for a night he’ll never forget. 

“Fuck yeah, baby doll. Fuck yeah.”

__

Sy was downright giddy the next morning as he drove her back into town. He might’ve stuck his head out the window and sung her praises to the world around them, If it weren’t 8:30 on a Sunday. Instead, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and hummed quietly to himself. Across the bench seat, Merrin flipped open the glove compartment and rooted through it for his collection of tapes. When a beam of early morning sunlight gleamed caught something shiny, she dug through the mess to find the source. He watched her from the corner of his eye, but by the time he’d comprehended what she’d found, it was too late. Mouth hanging open, he watched as she examined the condom in her hands. 

“Hm,” she said thoughtfully, turning it over to read the back as if she were flipping through the funny’s in the morning paper. “Ya know, I’ve never seen a gold one in real life before. I mean, I knew they were real, but damn. You could drain a bathtub with one’a these things.”

Sy laughed and scratched the back of his neck, relieved to know that she didn’t think he was some kinda sex fiend for keeping a stash here just in case. Well…Maybe she wouldn’t have been too far off, but still. They were still new to this. 

“Yeah…Yeah, they’re pretty big, huh.”

Merrin scoffed. 

“Pretty big? That steak you devoured was pretty big. You’re fuckin’ huge, babe.” 

They pulled up to her house a moment later. Sy put the truck in park and turned off the ignition, but left the keys there. He didn’t want to intrude, so he sat back against the cracked leather seat and looked her way. 

“So…got any plans fer today?”

She thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. 

“Besides sitting on a bag of frozen peas? Nothin’, really.”

He nearly choked on his own spit. Merrin giggled as he fumbled to come up with a coherent thought, an apology, something, then leaned across the console to kiss him on the cheek. He’s cute when he’s pussy drunk. 

“Come on, Cowboy. I’ll make you some pancakes.”

His stomach growled at the thought of food, and in an instant, he snatched the keys from the dash. He had her door open before she could even laugh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

__

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#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill smut #henry cavill characters #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson fic #captain syverson smut #captain syverson #syverson #syverson fanfiction #syverson smut #captain syverson fluff #syverson fluff

[mariacallous]

Looking for a Shabbat dinner centerpiece or a hearty midweek meal? Picture cubes of eggplant, zucchini, bell peppers, tomatoes and potatoes cooked together to create that special harmony only veggies that grew together in the sun achieve. You’re thinking of ratatouille, right? But what I have in mind is a heartier dish from Romania and Bulgaria called ghiveci or guvech.

Romanian ghiveci and Bulgarian guvech are indeed very similar to the famous ratatouille, but being peasant’s food, they’re more rustic and substantial. The veggies for guvech are cut into large, uneven chunks, and can be cooked all together at once, while for ratatouille, each component is fried separately before they are combined. This makes guvech preparation much easier, and allows for creative improvisations; you can easily add any vegetables in season. Besides the mandatory eggplant, zucchini, peppers, tomatoes and potatoes, green beans or okra are common. Guvech is seasoned very simply with salt, black pepper and occasionally paprika, to let the produce shine. The Bulgarian version is cooked with fatty meat, while most Romanian versions are vegan.

“In Bulgaria, guvech used to be cooked in a clay pot called gyuveche,” Etti Ben Yosef, a Bulgarian Jew who lives in Israel, told me. “The stew was cooked in the oven for many hours at low temperature.” 

But these days, when Ben Yosef makes guvech for Shabbat dinner, she uses a pressure cooker to precook the beef short ribs before adding them to the vegetables. Then, she cooks the entire stew on the stove for a long time, putting it in the oven for the final hour to give it a nice crust. She feels lucky to share the recipe with her adult children. “I keep the tradition so the kids will remember,” she said.

Guvech’s origins can be traced to the Ottoman Empire that ruled the Balkan region for hundreds of years. The original Turkish dish, called güveç, is cooked in a wide, clay dish by the same name. It’s very similar to the Bulgarian guvech and includes chicken, lamb or beef. There are many other variations of the dish throughout the Balkans. Bosnian Đuveč or djuvec is the name of a clay pot as well as a veggie casserole that’s cooked with rice; Greek giouvetsi is also cooked with rice. In Romania, the eggplant-tomato version is considered summer ghiveci, while winter ghiveci is prepared with carrots, cabbage, cauliflower and mushrooms. 

Bulgarian Sephardi Jews and Romanian Ashkenazi Jews brought guvech to Israel (where it’s pronounced “ghe-vech”) and made the dish widely popular. No wonder, given that eggplant and tomatoes are so beloved in Israel and are of such high quality. Early Israeli versions can be found in Molly Bar David’s “Folkloric Cookbook” from 1964. The first version includes 14 different vegetables (including celery root and cauliflower) and meat. The second version is for Romanian ghiveci that’s baked with a whole fish on top.

The vegetarian Romanian version is probably most common in Israel nowadays. And although it is  traditionally served over rice, I like to serve it on another Romanian staple, mamaliga. It’s the definition of comfort food. 

This recipe is the Bulgarian version of guvech that includes meat. You can make the recipe vegetarian by simply omitting the meat. The rest of the ingredients and instructions stay the same.

Notes:

It is recommended, and easy, to add any seasonal vegetables to the basic guvech. Consider adding: 1 lb butternut squash or sweet potato, cut into ½-inch dice; ½ lb whole okra, stems removed; or ½ lb green beans, cut into 1-inch pieces.

You can cook the meat, if using, up to two days in advance. Store the cooked meat in the fridge with the cooking liquid. Before using, remove from the fridge and discard the fat on the top of the pot (the fat will be solid and white in color). 

Guvech keeps in the fridge for up to four days.

[eva-knits12]

More CE characters as dads

Pete Brenner

Pete loves being a dad.

You both wake up before Zoe.

Every day, you bring lunch and Zoe to the office.

Pete gets to spend every afternoon with his daughter.

Pete is very protective of you and Zoe.

"She's not dating until she's 30!"

Pete loves watching Zoe dance.

He watches Bluey with her.

Pete loves cooking for both you and Zoe.

He finds cooking to be very relaxing.

He loves making ribs and chicken bites.

He loves making soups, chili, and even tacos and fajitas.

Movie nights involve Disney films, and even stuff that you and Pete will watch after you put Zoe to bed.

Pete loves reading to Zoe.

Family days are often spent at the library, the bookstore, picnics in the park, apple and pumpkin picking in the fall, and decorating the Christmas tree in the winter.

Halloween involves you staying back to pass out candy, but Pete and Zoe often go trick or treating.

Pete will have some decaf coffee, while he pulls Zoe in her wagon or even walk her in her stroller.

Zoe gets tons of candy.

Pete is an amazing dad.

When you were pregnant with Zoe, Pete was a doting partner.

Foot rub and back rubs were a must!

Pete wouldn't let you carry anything, walk without assistance, or do anything without assistance.

Pete takes Zoe and you out on a nice, casual family night.

Pizza is a must with Zoe.

You and Pete often get Mexican food or even Chinese.

Pete wouldn't trade this for the world.

You and Zoe are his world.

Zoe eventually gets a sibling! She gets a sister!

Now, Pete has three favorite girls!

Cole Turner

Cole is a doting partner.

He's more nervous and anxious than you are.

You have to push the twins out!

Every day, Cole goes through the hospital bag.

He prepares for each scenario, including needing to give birth before you guys get to the hospital.

You actually give birth to the twins-when Cole is rushing you to the hospital!

You give birth to the twins in the back of the car!

Lucas is born first, then Dawn is born.

Cole called an ambulance, but the twins were coming, whether you wanted them to come out or not.

Luckily, Cole has seen this quite often on the farm, so he immediately sprung into action.

He knew how to check to see how far you were dilating, and you were at ten centimeters before you got the hospital, and your contractions got to two minutes apart, Cole removed your pants and your panties, and told you to start pushing!

Yep, you're one of the few wives who can say that her husband delivered her babies. He didn't help deliver them, Cole actually delivered them.

The ambulance arrives, and you were taken to the hospital, with Cole following.

Who knew that the same place where you got a flat tire, wound wind up being the same place where you gave birth to Lucas and Dawn?

Cole teaches Lucas and Dawn about plants and animals.

He reads to them, because Cole is an avid reader.

At the end of the day, Cole cooks for you.

Hot sandwiches with mashed potatoes and gravy, meatloaf, burgers, sausages, pork chops, baked chicken, fried chicken, Cole cooks it.

Cole finds cooking helps him relax, and it helps with his anxiety.

Movie nights with Cole involve popcorn, pillows, cuddling, and foot rubs.

Cole loves giving you a foot rub at the end of a long day of teaching.

For your birthday, anniversary, even a date night, Cole always remembers your favorite flowers and chocolates.

Cole loves making the baby food-he insisted that the baby food be homemade by him using vegetables from the garden and that it's organic and low in sugar-and giving Lucas and Dawn their bottles.

When Lucas and Dawn are older, they have a little outfit they wear when they are helping daddy on the farm. It involves a bucket hat, jeans, and a cute denim over shirt for Lucas, and cute overalls, a cute sun hat, and cute rubber boots for Dawn. Lucas has his own pair of rubber boots with the Captain America shield on it.

Lucas and Dawn follow Cole with their cute, plastic watering cans, pails, and shovels.

They even have baskets to pick the veggies.

Date nights are the best!

It involves the theatre, the movies, the beach, even the museum.

Cole wouldn't trade this for the world.

Ari Levinson

Ari is an amazing husband.

You have your kids later than most couples.

You were diagnosed with cervical cancer during your first year of marriage.

Ari was with you the entire time.

He would fuss over you.

You could only keep down pancakes and chicken broth when you were undergoing chemo.

When you found out were pregnant, Ari wouldn't let you lift anything, carry anything, or do anything.

You could go on walks.

You give birth to Zachary Andrew and Elijah Matthew.

A few years later, you give birth to Lillian Eve.

Ari loves taking you on date nights.

Family movie nights involve watching a movie that both boys pick out without arguing.

Popcorn is a must.

So is dollar store candy.

You and Ari often cook together.

Gyros are a family favorite.

(I love gyros, and they're popular around here. I like lots of Tzatziki sauce on mine.)

Ari will often a make a Greek salad to have on the side.

Ari loves making breakfast.

Ari and you often enjoy some coffee when you can actually have some peace, and that's after you put Lillian down for a nap.

Ari works from home, since he's runs an online import business.

He used to run a resort at one point.

He was even a high school geography teacher.

But, he quit those to run an online import business.

You work as a medical coder, and work from home.

You and Ari both have a shared office.

It works out, because you are both home with the twins and the baby.

Date nights are amazing.

It can involve an escape room, watching the sunset, going to open mic night, an evening picnic, even seeing a movie in the theatre.

Ari and you get the kids and Ari gets Lillian to sleep.

He puts the covers over you, and kisses your cheek just as you go to sleep.

#chris evans #team chris #chris evans fandom #pete brenner #cole turner #ari levinson

[burntpink]

Hi!

9. favorite smell in the summer?

28. five songs to describe you?

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

94. favorite season?

9. favorite smell in the summer? sunscreen and lemon

28. five songs to describe you? this is the hardest thing i've ever been asked... but i guess it's: No Choir - Florence + The Machine; Ribs - Lorde; SUMMERTIME - The Carters, Bikini Porn - Tove Lo; Apesar De Você - Chico Buarque

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

76. what’s your favorite potato food? mashed potatoes!!

94. favorite season? where i come from we don't have very distinct seasons, but if i had to pick a favorite i'd choose fall (it starts nicely warm and ends with festa junina)

#this took me so long to answer because these questions had me thinking for a while... #difficult questions #if you ever listen to one of these songs i listed here you're obligated to tell me #and yes fall is a warm season in brazil #every season is a warm season in brazil #answered #about me

[count-alucard-tepes]

Your fav OP Hotties reaction to when their S/O’s fav food is the OP Hotties least fav/hated food

So I know that Oda has already given their favorite and least favorite food but I'll try and elaborate based on my opinion of them and western and eastern cuisines.

Kizaru✨

He likes tempura quite a bit even though it's not food for anyone's health really but he does enjoy it from time to time. Especially if its shrimp! Have this prepared for him and he will tell you all the naughty secrets of the marines. He dislikes anything too spicy but sometimes he tries Akainu's cooking and then he's in pain for a couple of hours later. So when he finds out his S/O likes spicy food, he doesn't mind at all and would usually go to a restaurant where both of them could enjoy their favorite meals.

Akainu🌋

He has a sweet tooth and tends to always have something sweet after his lunch as he can over indulge at times. His favourite dessert is an speculaas tart with almond filling which was introduced to him when he was travelling as a young marine, its not too sweet but it just hits the spot for him. If you ever want to calm him down and make him happy, bring him a large tart and he won't burn you. He dislikes durians and can't get over the smell, it's too much for him. He would lecture his S/O about only eating the fruit outside of the house because of the smell and to brush their teeth immediately after.

Ryokugyu🌱

He loves good Southern spicy fried chicken with gravy and mashed potatoes. This is something he would eat when he breaks his fast and he's gonna eat all he can! He dislikes chocolate muffins, they make his teeth ache. He would lecture his S/O about how much sugar is in the muffin and how bad that is for their body.

Sir Crocodile 🐊

He loves creamy chicken Italiano and eats this on a weekly basis out of his regular diet. He enjoys pasta from time to time but is pretty strict with his health and does not indulge too much. He dislikes any dish that has a tomato based sauce despite liking tomatoes, it gives him heart burn. He wouldn't really mind his S/O eating it as long as he doesn't have to eat it.

Doflamingo Donquixote🦩

He likes all kinds of seafood and enjoys having fresh oysters for breakfast every morning with a bit of hot sauce and freshly squeezed lemon juice. He never truly feels awake until he has his oysters. He dislikes fried chicken as he thinks it's way too heavy for him, he likes to keep his sexy body all year long. He would tell his S/O that it's not healthy for the body and that they should find alternative healthier options.

Benn Beckman🔫

He enjoys sushi and sashimi. He usually goes somewhere he could enjoy a meal by himself as there was a time where he didn't know how to eat wasabi and almost saw Kami-San. Shanks never let this down so he now just goes alone. He dislikes coffee ice cream and thinks it's an abomination. He would watch his S/O with a frown before commenting that it looks like baby's poop just to piss his S/O off.

Katakuri Charlotte🍡

He loves having barbecues with his brothers and sisters and of course he's the one in charge at the grill. He makes burgers, hot dogs and lots racks of ribs which he marinates by himself. He could eat barbecued meat forever and be content. He dislikes matcha flavoured desserts, he thinks they're gross. He would cringe as he watched his S/O eat but wouldn't comment or anything like that.

Killer🔪

He enjoys a full Scottish breakfast with eggs, bacon, baked beans, black pudding, scones, tomatoes, mushrooms and haggis all with a nice cup of tea. Usually after eating all of this, he goes into a food coma but he's happy as ever. He dislikes any kind of cheese, he's lactose intolerant. He would make gagging sound when his S/O eats it and would say they have cheese breath.

Kaido🐉

He likes a good helping of tonkatsu with rice and curry as well as an omelet over it. It is his comfort food and he could eat it several times a week. He dislikes edamame and if anyone serves him this would never hear the end of it. He would glare at his S/O and tell them to eat it somewhere else because it smells terrible.

King👑

He really loves eating crabs, especially crab legs. He usually has it with a spicy sauce and rice. When ever Queen wants him to approve something, he treats him with several kilograms of crab legs and he gets the approval he needs. He dislikes cheesy sauces, he thinks its gross on seafood and just doesn't generally like it. He would look at his S/O in disapproval but wouldn't say anything in case he got them mad for something they liked.

Queen 👑

He loves eating roasted pork belly with all the condiments he can have. He doesn't really care much about his health so he tends to eat large amounts of it all the time. He dislikes fruity desserts, he doesn't like fruits in general. He would laugh and say things like, 'you don't need to watch what you eat, love! You're perfect!'.

#ooc #one piece #akainu sakazuki #one piece akainu #sir crocodile #donquixote doflamingo #crocodile one piece #one piece kizaru #kizaru borsalino #one piece crocodile #doflamingo one piece #ryokugyu one piece #aramaki ryokugyu #benn beckman #katakuri one piece #katakuri charlotte #kaido one piece #killer one piece #king one piece #queen one piece

[ultimateaclrecovery]

Had a magical birthday weekend!

Started Thursday night, the night before my birthday with a free cookie and milkshake.Then on my actual birthday on Friday with a nice leisurely wake up and purple ube heart shaped waffles (with my new waffle maker, I give myself the best presents).

Called my parents to open the presents they had shipped, baked, and then made myself a trial run of the “unicorn kisses cocktail with unicorn ice cubes. You can mostly see on in the glass in the top right corner.

Then I got to ride my horse that I love so much and even jump her. Not a perfect lesson but I stayed on and had fun so a great day for me!

Then I went out to dinner with my boyfriend at wonderful restaurant called linger. I am the absolute worst at taking pictures of food but it was all so good

Pictured are the scallion pancakes with short rib, and pork potstickers. Not picture we’re the bao bun trio, duck, pork belly and Korean fried chicken (omg the buns were so soft). Wagu sliders with sweet potato waffle fries and chicken satay lettuce wraps. And a lavender raspberry cocktail (it was pink and not purple but still so fun). And then we got milkshakes at little man next door and I got purple cow (black raspberry with white and milk chocolate chunks) and that was purple.

Saturday I mostly spent prepping and cleaning for my party which was so fun and full of purple

I sadly got very few pictures during the actual party(none actually) but I live here so I put my dress crown and sash back on and took more today because I wanted fun pictures!

I also got many wonderful wonderful presents and cards from my parents, friends and boyfriend.

Feeling so loved and thirty, flirty and thriving

#my birthday #yes I go very extra for my birthday #but it is so fun! #I wanted to wear my sash for my riding lesson #but decided the dirt and safety risk weren’t worth it #feeling so loved #ready for my golden year #I thought it was just a golden birthday but apparently it’s a whole year #30 on the 30th

[kineats]

Okay hi !! This might be a strange and very specific request, but i really don't have an idea of what to do ahah

So I am a Coastal Wolf therian, a werewolfkin and a demonkin (probably a fallen angel, tbh i also relate A LOT to crowley from good omens). I was born in fall, and my birthday is coming soon. Thing is, I have no idea what to choose for my menu, except that I know I would like it to kind of remind me of my kintypes.

So any comfort fall/winter meals for a wolf, a demon (that's actually very nice) or both. Since it's for my birthday party (with only my close friends), a drink and one or two sweet options (maybe a cake!!) would also be very nice!!

Just a little thing, please avoid cheese and anything too spicy :)

I would be so so grateful you would win the eternal respect of this creature - sincerely, H

Hey! I'm sorry for not seeing this sooner -- I'm going to do this one out of order since it's time sensitive.

Sorry for not announcing my hiatus, I got a new job unexpectedly that's been taking all my time and energy to adjust to! I'm just getting into the swing of things, so blog is officially open again!!

Hello fellow fallen angel friend!! Let me see what I can do for ya!

Savory Dishes:

Bone-Exposed BBQ Chicken Drumsticks -- Or, alternatively: Holiday Spiced and Ale Glazed version of them! (Or any frenched drumstick recipe using fall spices that you like!)

"Devils on Horseback" -- dates or prunes wrapped in bacon!

Beef Rib Roast (takes a day or two advanced prep!)

Red Potato Cottage Fries

Sage and Garlic Roasted Sweet Potatoes

Bacon-Caramelized Brussel Sprouts

One of my favorite molasses rye breads ever

Pasta with Bacon and Radicchio (personally I'd use this sauce on it!)

Butternut Squash Soup with Pancetta

and for the coastal wolf: Baked Trout with Roe!

Sweet Dishes and Cakes!:

Brooklyn Blackout Cake (best served with This Sauce using Cherries and Raspberries!)

Fall-Spiced Shoofly Pie

Apple Bundt Cake

Cranberry Crumble

Drinks -- ** Means Alcoholic!!:

Fall Mocktail

Cinnamon Tea

Autumn Sangria**

The Blizzard**

Slow Cooker Wassail -- or maybe even FANCY Wassail**!

I hope I'm not too late, friend! Maybe these will inspire you into a wonderful dinner plan!

#demonkin #fallen angelkin #wolfkin #therian #wolf therian #otherkin food #otherkin #recipes #kin stuff #caninekin #therianthropy #canine therian

[aesthetikins]

church grim recipes with meat for @bitchywitchheart

i think of traditional english or scandinavian foods and i think hearty warm food. you can never go wrong with a good old beef stew in my opinion

good cuts of meat for stewing are full of collagen and are tough if cooked quickly like a steak. long, slow cooking in a stew will break these tough cuts down until they fall apart whereas cooking a lean cut like this will turn it dry and tough and unpleasant to eat. chuck, short rib, brisket, and cross cut shanks are great for stewing. you may also be able to find cuts labeled "stew meat" in the meat section of your local grocery store

old fashioned beef stew

1/4 cup flour

1/4 teaspoon black pepper

1 pound beef stewing meat, trimmed and cut into cubes

5 teaspoons olive oil

2 tablespoons red wine vinegar

1 cup red wine (you can omit this if you can't legally buy wine or don't want a mostly full bottle sitting in your house)

3 and 1/2 cups beef broth

2 bay leaves

1 medium onion, peeled and chopped

5 medium carrots, peeled and cut into 1/4-inch rounds

2 large baking potatoes, peeled and cut into 3/4-inch cubes

2 teaspoons salt

combine the flour and black pepper in a bowl. add in the cubed beef, tossing the chunks to coat them evenly in flour. heat 3 tablespoons of olive oil in a large pot. add beef to the pot a few pieces at a time, avoiding overcrowding (basically just avoid having the pieces touch, give them breathing room). cook the beef, turning it over to brown each side, about 5 minutes per batch. add more oil as needed between batches

remove the beef from the pot and add the vinegar and wine. cook over medium heat, scraping the browned beef and flour bits off of the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon. add the beef, broth, and bay leaves. bring this to a boil, then reduce to a slow simmer

cover and cook, skimming off bubbles from the top of the broth on occasion, until the beef is tender (about 1 and 1/2 hours). add the onions and carrots, then cover and simmer for another 10 minutes. add the potatoes and simmer until all of the vegetables are tender, about 30 more minutes. add broth or water if the stew is dry. sea salt and pepper to taste

imo any stew is great with a good loaf of bread. pick your favorite kind, i think its nice with a long baguette or roll thats been slathered with butter. tear off chunks and dip it in between spoonfuls of soup

#therian #church grim kin #church grim therian #recipe #kin food #sundew spotted

[hanna-kin]

Swedish facts- holidays edition

Here's the third installment of my swedish facts series (not counting the first one)

This will focus in Swedish holidays and traditions including more royal family focused ones.

🎅 Christmas

Celebrated on the 24th (Christmas eve) often with family. You commonly eat lunch, watch Kalle Anka (From all of us to all of you) eat dinner and open gifts. Every family have their own traditions.

Common foods are ham, herring, ribs, meatballs, jansons frestelse, risgrynsgröt (porridge made of rice) and cured salmon.

🎆 New Years

Pretty straight forward. Often celebrated with friends. You eat fancy food, drink champagne and toast at midnight. Every year there's a celebration from Skansen in Stockholm which is broadcasted in TV live. There are music performances from different artists and every year a special person is chosen to read the poem "ring out, wild bells" by Alfred Tennyson. It's read just before midnight and if the timing is right it finishes just as the church bell starts ringing in the new year with It's twelve rings.

💕 Alla Hjärtans dag - Valentine's day

This is not a huge holiday in Sweden but if you are a couple you might go out for dinner or cook something special. You might give roses or gifts but it's not a huge thing. As a kid we made gift cards for friends and family. It's like in the US but toned down.

🍩 Fettisdagen - fatty tuesday

It's a Christian tradition that has it's origins in fasting. I think 47 days before easter? Before fasting you ate to be able to withstand the fasting and from there fettisdagen has become a very celebrated and anticipated tradition where you eat a special kind of baked good. It's a wheat bun with cardamom that's filled with whipped cream and almond mass/paste.

🧇 Våffeldagen -waffle day

Celebrated the 25th of March. It as Christian roots but nowdays we juat eat waffles.

🐣Easter

Easter is a bit all over the place.

Apart from the Christian easter traditions we also dress up like påskkärringar (witches) and kids and over their drawings to their neighbours and often gets candy in return. Parents might by eggs that that they fill with candy that their kids then get. Some kids have to search for theirs.

We eat alot of eggs but also herring.

🔥Valborg- celebrated 30th of April

It's celebrated to welcome spring. You light huge bonfires in the evening and in some cities Valborg is a huge thing. In Uppsala and Lund for instance. There are choirs performing and speeches and poems being held/read. It's a huge deal among uni students but also an appreciated tradition along families. It's just a different kind of celebration 😂.

Valborg is also the current kings birthday.

🌸 Första Maj

The day after Valborg. It's the "working class'" holiday and super important for many people. May day in the UK. Many speeches are being held, especially by the labour party and other parties on the left. There are also many demonstrations.

🤰🏾Mother’s day

No need to explained. Celebrated the last sunday of May.

🇸🇪 Nationaldagen - our national day - June 6

I would say that it's not as big as in many other countries but it's still celebrated a bit. The royal family is always involved. You have the day off but like I said I wouldn't call it a very important holiday for most people. Some people dress up in tradtional clothing though.

☀️ Midsommar

Perhaps the most swedish holiday/tradition of them all. Celebrated with families and/or friends. You commonly have a barbecue, eat the traditional foods like the new potatoes and again herring.

Strawberries are common to eat for dessert. Either the way they are with ice cream or whipped cream or strawberry cake.

You dance around the may pole (mostly kids and their parents) and you make flower crowns and dress nicely. Some wear their traditional clothing like on our national day.

It's not as crazy as the movie.

🦞 Kräftskiva - cray fish party

Usually held in August. You eat crayfish and wear weird hats.

🥨 Kanalbullens dag - cinnamon bun day.

Celebrated 4th of October. We celebrate the amazingness that is cinnamon buns. Not the weird ones with frosting.

🎃 Halloween - 31 October

Not a huge holiday. Mostly celebrated among kids that go trick or treating (still not a huge thing) and students that likes to party.

🕯Alla Helgona - All saints day. Celebrated Saturday between the 31st of October and 6th of November.

We remember the people in our lives that are no longer with us by visiting their graves and light candles at the graveyard.

It's a beautiful holiday.

👨‍👧Father's day - pretty straight forward. Celebrated the second Sunday in November.

⭐️ Advent

Celebrated the 4 Sundays before Christmas eve. We light a candle every sunday leading up to christmas.

👸🏿 Lucia

YR did a good way showing it and it's basically about celebrating light. There's a performance done by a choir and one of the women is dressed like lucia.

I was going to include traditions with the royal family but this post is already so long. If people are interested I could make one revolving around the royal family and the traditions that they are very involved with.

#young royals #swedish traditions

[alakasim]

the yearly kemp bbq

David and May spent the day getting the backyard ready for the annual bbq. It was a nice sunny afternoon, David grilled ribs and baked potatoes. They had a big bonfire, that took a turn...

Candy survived and her and May grew closer from the lifethreathing experience.

#the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 challenge #ts4 family dynamics #family dynamics: gen one #sim: david marquez #sim: may kemp #simblr

[clatterbane]

Currently in the oven: some New Year's Eve pork and sauerkraut!

One side of my mom's family included just enough Germans trickling down the mountains from Pennsylvania way back when that some version of pork and kraut is an absolute must for the New Year. At our house, we usually got that plus the more generically Southern collard greens and black eyed peas. With the cornbread and mashed potatoes to match, respectively. (My mom also hated black eyed peas, so that generally turned into a minor side dish unless I was cooking later on, though!)

We're lucky to get one or the other. And the kraut won out. Various piggy cuts are also popular here around Christmas, so yeah.

I picked up some nice-looking ribs, froze them, but then didn't feel like messing with that. So, today it's the bony end of basically a Swedish version of a Boston butt on sale, which I cut up some before stashing in the freezer. (We ate the other half as boneless chops a few days ago.) Should work fine. My mom sometimes liked to use a huge Boston butt for it. It beats the hell out of

I have never particularly liked a more sweet-and-sour take on kraut, or caraway added. So, we're getting some more Rhineland style Weinkraut plonked on the meat instead.

Instead of mashed potatoes, I decided to take advantage of the oven going anyway and turn some baking potatoes we have into potato wedges. Because why not.

It's smelling way too good cooking by now. 😋

#food #new year #sauerkraut #pork #potatoes #german food #hillbilly style #recipes #personal #gluten free

[scp-l4-clef-alto-001]

I’ve heard Dr Clef can cook, is that so? And if so, what’s his favourite dishes to make? If not, I’ve heard he likes steak so how would like his steak done?

I like to think Dr. Clef (as in the character), and Author Clef (me) share most of our opinions on food. But I think that one place where we might differ is in our opinions on meat. I feel like Clef is probably a roast kind of guy: thick slices carved off a big chunk of meat cooked slowly in an oven. Whereas I'm more of a steak kind of guy: individual servings seared to get a nice crust, then finished at a lower temp until reaching the desired doneness.

-----

A good steak should always be prepared medium rare, or as close to medium rare as you can get it. Medium rare happens when the meat is cooked (not transparent), but has a deep, reddish-pink center, about 135 degrees F. A good crust is also essential: you basically want the outside of the steak to be browned and almost crispy, while the inside is still pink and juicy. To do this, first you let the steak cook in an oven at a low temp (about 200) with a meat thermometer in, until it's about ten or fifteen degrees below desired temp. Then finish it off in a cast iron skillet. Go hot and hard and quick, you want to get that nice brown sear as fast as possible to avoid overcooking the inside of the steak.

The steak should also be rested: allowed to sit for about ten minutes, wrapped loosely in tin foil, before slicing and eating. This lets the juices redistribute throughout the meat, and results in a tastier, moister steak, rather than having all the juices leak out onto the plate.

Most cuts of steak, from the soft and expensive tenderloin to the inexpensive sirloin, have their appeal. If you're still figuring out your technique, practice on sirloins. Once you've got it down, try out many different cuts until you find one that you like. Strip Steak is tasty, but a bit tough. Ribeye tends to be fatty. Tenderloin is lean but soft, but tends to lack flavor. Steak afficionados these days tend towards ribeye cap, denver steak, and picanha (sirloin cap), which are the parts of the cow that have the most flavor.

T-Bone steaks are a combination steak: the larger piece on one side of the bone is the strip steak, whereas the smaller piece on the other side is tenderloin. A T-Bone that has a particularly large piece of tenderloin is also known as a porterhouse. Porterhouse steaks are my favorite steaks for date nights, as I can serve two people off of one steak: I generally give the lady the tenderloin (which is the more expensive portion, and also the softer one), and eat the strip steak myself (there's more of it, and it's a bit tougher, but it's got a lot more flavor).

Always season your steak at least an hour before you cook it. I like to use kosher salt and "Montreal Steak Spice," which is a mixture of peppers and herbs that you can find in the spices aisle of most supermarkets. Use a good sprinkle of salt, then season with the spice. Add enough spice until you think, "Man, I think that's too much," then add a little shake more.

As for sides: some kind of grilled vegetable and a baked or mashed potatoes is fine.

Clef

EDIT: Alton Brown video here sums it up: https://www.foodnetwork.com/videos/pan-seared-rib-eye-steak-0169271

[softthrillz]

Endurance Athlete Feedist Daydreams

It’s nearing the end of marathon season and my last big race is coming up this weekend, and I haven’t been able to get this special vision of how a feedist relationship in which one partner is an avid distance runner/endurance athlete might play out. We runners have to eat a lot, and I often have trouble getting in enough calories to maintain my weight, balancing out my energy output with enough input. It’s not been my most grueling training plan, but I consistently run about 80 miles a week, and sometimes the intensity of my workouts can ironically make it a bit harder to work up an appetite. I couldn’t help but wondering what it’d be like to have a fat cutie by my side during this training period, what it might be like in the future.... I envisioned a plush partner who loves to eat and cook, loving baking, experimenting with different macro ratios to optimize for things like pre-workout fueling needs and post-workout recovery--snacking all throughout on these various baked goods, encouraging me when I have trouble eating because of the toll intense training can take on the stomach/digestive system (not to mention the exhaustion). Eating my leftovers is just a bonus, of course. Coming back from a long run on the weekend to a shower shake on the counter and a kiss on the cheek as they’re making the fixing for chimichangas--unquestionably a true breakfast of champions (a shower shake is a post-run shake you can just bring with you and drink in the shower lmao--like a shower beer--needless to say, we runners are weird lol--I mean, we just enjoy running around for hours, no surprise there haha), all the while sipping a shake of their own, because why not? Gotta keep their belly nice and topped off. Don’t mind the bits of tofu scram, breakfast potatoes, and soyrizo they’ve been tasting throughout the morning--that’s just being a proper chef! Gotta taste before you waste. Or something like that. Bringing back burgers, fries, and shakes from that new vegan diner down the street one evening after work, enough for my fill, and a daring amount for my tubby love. I help feed them as they start to slow down, offering them sips of their milkshake in between bites, simultaneously cooling them down and filing them up with an absolutely divine oat- and tahini-based chocolate shake. Rubbing their big, inviting belly, pushing along the sides and upper arch in strategic moves to alleviate errant pressure.  “Good job, baby, you ate so much for me,” I’d say.  After languidly basking in the haze of their hedonistic fullness, they likewise help me, noticing I’ve only eaten half my burger and a few sips of my shake. Knowing I ran 16 miles earlier that morning and that I have a sensitive stomach, one soft-but-sure arm comes around to gently hold me around my ribs, pulling me closer, leaning against their squishy side, their other hand coming to slowly brush gently across my stomach. ”Stomach giving you trouble? You need to finish that darling, let me help you,” they’d tell me. After working through our respective meals, in a sneakily caring plan to get more food into me after an intense week of training, they bring out some Tupperware filled with the pastries and other goods they baked to munch on while catching up on a show that night, ending up eating 3 or 4 or 5 for every one they got in me, but it works for us, for both of our goals, seemingly divergent, but actually at least parallel, harmonious even. Serving one another in this interesting feedist dynamic, where the feedee and feeder live outside of a rigid feedism binary and moreso in a synergistic space of care and affection and heat, realistically adaptable to situational realities, but familiar in many ways beyond those unique personal qualities.  Gosh, I can imagine finishing a race and seeing their cherubic cheeks bunched up in a laughing cheer, holding a sign in one hand and a snack in the other, falling into the soft, plush, pillowy form of an absolute babe, feeling flush and wild and electric with that post-race energy, the crowd still cheering as fellow runners cross the finish line. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” I imagine they’d tell me as I catch my breath, “you made it!” Cheekily, I might look at them mischievously and say, “wanna go help reup my glycogen stores?” And with a brilliant grin they’d reply, absentmindedly rubbing their ever-burgeoning belly in anticipation “of course baby, I’ve been planning this feast for AGES. First we’re going to go to...” I’d lovingly gaze at them as they guide me in my post-race daze back to the car, excited to eat hard after a long 26.2 miles on the road--and ensure my partner more than matches me and then some while we’re at it.... Yeah, I can definitely envision that.😌

#text #this has just been on my mind #among other scenarios within this context #a runner encourager/feeder and a feedee #I think it's actually kind of beautiful in a way #Sometimes mainstream feedism is contextualized in a way that doesn't seem super conducive to realistic relationships #And so I find that realism brought into feedism is just super hot--sweltering #Not in place of anything that already popularly exists--just as an addition to the lovely feedism mosaic of this modern world haha #soft feedism #queer feedism #sapphic feedism #nonbinary feedism #wg text #weight gain text #wg story #weight gain story #gaining weight #feedist text #feedist #wg kink #feedist thoughts #feedist imagines #gluttony #hedonism #plush partner is also some cute feedism alliteration imo