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#but some people out there really are big brain huh
honeyvenommusic · 7 days
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❗️NEWGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSANIMALSGLASSAN-
#glass animals#honestly i wore out dreamland sm my brain took a lonnng break from expecting anything from them?? idk i’m just huh????#like….. when i say wore out#i cannot describe how much i listened to it#i usually have some vague idea even if it’s a ridiculous number#like 52 times in a month for an album or something (has happened)#i cannot recall w this#gonna say bc 2020 & they were Literally the last band i saw live. next morning everyone found out about everything annd lockdown. no joke#so it was big dreamland time when it dropped and revisiting their past albums when i broke out of its spell lmao#(pretty sure before that like january was when i listened to déjà vu 100+ times in a row tho so oop. it was a tough day lol)#anyway seeing this aww man. i really have had this band with me for a long long time. 🥹 i remember hearing gooey on the radio one night#driving home from work late @ night in 2014. the drive was so short i couldn’t be arsed to fish out my ipod & plug it in#sometimes so just popped on a good station i had preset. started the car and heard this *voice* and i was like who????#had to check the station bc it was an alt station and i thought i had it on another one which was fine i was just v confused#it was in the middle of the song & i was immediately anxious to know the name hoping i’d hear it & it wouldn't just flow into the next song#then the dj would pile the names together after x number of songs played bc i was tiired (but woulda stayed in the car ngl). got lucky &#ran inside to find it then yelled at my roommate the next day that she HAD to listen to it during a smoke session after work#(i was right & it blew her miiind)#god. what a fucking time. what a fucking band. idk what the disc horse is surrounding them now since they blew up via tiktok#i’m sure people are v quick to say they’re overrated bc of that but idk & i’m glad i don’t know. they’ll always be this#highly inventive incredible band i stumbled upon for the perfect night drive home after a long long shift#a band that came back from a Horrible accident that should have ended 1 of their lives & somehow didn’t & should have ended them#as a band (like still cannot believe Joe was drumming in 2020 & i saw it with my own eyes like how tf???!?)#a band deserving of all of its successes. glass animals forever
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#you ever just watch something that changes your brain chemistry#anyway the relationship between creators and their audience huh#any media that talks about the relationship creators have with their audience Gets Me#like g/eneration loss and n/ope that point out the almost uncaring nature of thr audience and how many people will tend to just#essentially chew stuff up and spit them out once they're done#no thought no care to the creation or the creators#or how people tend to just reduce creators and creations to simple one note traits for easier consumption#not thinking about how it might effect the creators at all#just Man#the g/t community tended to do this too#reducing characters to their size and maybe One trait if they were lucky#and i know its not really their fault cuz its the funni size community but Still#writing is thown aside in favour of art cuz it simply takes less time to consume#and even then art os barely given the respect it deserves#people come to the community expecting Content and then getting mad when creators are real people who won't listen to their every whim#to some people jax will never be anything more than Mega Giant and mia nothing but The One Who Makes Him Big By Standing Next To Him#and it sucks but at the same time theres nothing i can do but hope someone sees my characters as Characters#i know a lot of people who felt pressured to make what people wanted rather than what they actually wanted to make#even though i don't think i ever did that for various reasons i still felt guilty for making stuff that wasn't as dark as people wanted#even though stuff filled with hope and caring and jokes is very very important to me#whenever the gt community had a stupid fluff vs fearplay debate i felt like i was contributing to the problem#even though when you think about it#having a fluff vs fearplay debate At All is pretty messed up in a community that's supposed to encourage Creation#reduce peoples work to either one or the other#no inbetween#you don't hate the people who look at your stuff#you appreciate it even but Man#i wish people didn't treat creators as just a form of entertainment and then dispose of them the moment they weren't entertaining anymore#tldr GL messed me up and I'm going to think about it for A While
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gibbearish · 30 days
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the one good thing abt chronic people pleasing and funnyman syndrome is that when you do finally crack and express Genuine Anger everyone around you is like. oh fuck
#throwback to when i worked at pizza hurt and had just recently called out a manager for sharing applicant's private info#in a snapchat group#after previously disclosing Everyones Sexualities to anyone who asked including people who werent present to be asked themselves#and another manager with chronic big brother syndrome got REALLY mad about it#so the next day when i mentioned a mistake with an order to him he Blew up at me for telling everyone what to do#and my then roommate told me afterwards 'yeah when he said that your everything just. immediately changed ive never seen you look like that#before‚ i was like oh he fucked up big time'#which is very cool to think about given that in the moment i became so flooded with adrenaline that i was entirely#focused on keeping my hand tremors down and voice steady because i know my body's adrenaline reaction pretty well by now#because for some fucking reason it's practically on a hair trigger and Will make me start frustrated crying at a moments notice if i#dont keep a handle on it#the amount of conversations ive had to have. starting with 'i know it looks like im mid breakdown right now but genuinely im fine‚#my body just is terrible and will continue doing this for a While but my brain is fine now'#i will say though there is a certain degree of fun to those convos though like#watching the doubt slowly go away as theyre like 'huh yeah when i focus on the words youre saying this is just. a normal conversation'#AHAHAHAHAA I JUST NOTICED PIZZA HURT#origibberish
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pettydollie · 4 months
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could you IMAGINE bakugou having a gf whos a teacher?? but not just any teacher, nono. a KINDERGARTEN TEACHER. lowkey when he sees u teaching a kid abt counting apples or something, he will think abt having children with you. just seeing you being so gentle nd sweet with little brats munchkins turns his brain into mush.
on one particular day, he went into your classroom wearing his hero costume for a little q/a type thing. everyone was so impressed just by looking at him, even if they didn't know who he was. they were all sat whispering to their friends at small desks as bakugou's large figure just strutted in LOL.
you give him a tiny little peck when he walked into the classroom, to which some kids let out "ooo"s and snickered. you clapped your hands together. "okay boys and girls, let's walk over to the magic carpet for circle time!" you led bakugou with you to the large rug where two chairs were set.
the kids were all sat in a circle, excitedly waiting to talk to the number two hero!! bakugou sat down somewhat awkwardly as for the first time in a while, he was a teeeensy bit nervous for whatever reason. "today we have a special guest joining us for circle time! does anyone know who he is?" you grinned as you saw many hands go up.
"yes, ryu?" you picked on an adorable little boy in the center. "that's mr. dynamite from the news!" he yelled.
"that's right, ryu! but let's use our inside voices, please." you smiled. "does anyone know what mr. dynamite does?" you questioned again. one little girl was squirming in her seat, hand held high. "go ahead, kanako." you nodded to the girl who sat up straighter upon being called on.
"he saves people, l/n-sensei!"
"damn right i do." bakugou smirked pridefully. you lightly nudged his shoulder. "no cursing." you whispered. he rolled his eyes but listened nonetheless. "okay, starting from this side of the rug," you pointed to the left. "you can ask anything you want to the hero, as long as you are kind. and if you don't have a question just say 'pass' and we'll go straight to the next person." you announced. all the children nodded in unison.
"start us off, please." you handed the 'talking mic' to the first kid. "mr. dynamite sir, where are your blasters?" he curiously turned his head to the side. "huh?-" bakugou looked down at his hands. "my gauntlets? left those guys at work. they're too powerful to be here." he answered.
the punks students continued to ask their questions and bakugou replied calmly like this was an everyday event. "you're big." a boy stated. bakugou quirked a brow. that's all this brat had to say? "i know." he replied nonchalantly. "why?" the kid blinked, keeping a straight face.
"uh, why?? i dunno, kid. jus' the way i am." he shrugged, not really knowing how to answer. the kid folded his arms and moved to sit on his knees. "it's my turn now.." a quiet girl next to him tapped on his shoulder, reaching out for the mic. the boy stuck out his tongue at her before turning away to look at bakugou again. "thas' not a real answer."
"kenji, that wasn't kind. you had your turn, now please give the mic to haru." you frowned. haru's eyes turned glossy and her lip began to quiver, but kenji still wasn't letting up. "thas' not fair, sensei!" kenji whined.
"hold it, kid." bakugou stepped in. kenji's attention turned to bakugou, an angry pout written all over his face. "ya ask me sum dumb question," he began. oh gosh, a dumb question? he's not wrong, but he can't say that to a 5 year old! "katsuki." you muttered, trying to get him to stop. but he kept going anyway.
"but i answered it, right? y'r not being a team player to y'r classmate, buddy." bakugou finished, waiting to see what would happen next. the room fell silent. kenji had listened, handed the microphone to haru. he was still upset though, everyone could see it.
"one minute, haru. kenji," you called out. the boy looked up with fat tears in his eyes. "is there something you want to say to your friend?" kenji wiped his eyes with the back of sleeve and mumbled "sorry." to haru. "is okay." haru accepted happily with a toothy grin.
bakugou leaned back in his chair, feeling satisfied with himself as the questions continued. huh, who knew right? you could get used to this.
when the period was over, bakugou waved goodbye to all the kids. however, he bent down in front of kenji and put his fist out. although the child was still somewhat annoyed, he couldn't hold in his grin as he fist bumped a pro hero. "let's all say 'thank you' to, mr. dynamite!" you stood up from your chair, folding your hands together.
"thank you, mr. dynamite!!"
bakugou kissed your cheek and walked to the door with you following behind. you opened the door and he adjusted his mask quickly. he ruffled your hair. "see ya at home, babe."
a/n: literally so rushed im so sorry i just had this thought and i had to get it out. will for sure be coming back to this later :D
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bogleech · 8 months
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So like, in people without ADHD, your brain enters a kind of anticipatory state when you're going to do something - anything at all, as small as getting a drink of water or as big as paying your rent - and then releases the reward juices when you actually do it, after which the brain, with or without your input, will attempt to hurry your thoughts along to a different unfinished task. You like to think you control all of this consciously, that you decide you're gonna do stuff and you decide when it's done and then you pick some other stuff, but a lot of it really is automated. So, the sinister thing about ADHD is that when your brain is unable to release normal adequate levels of the reward chemicals, it doesn't have a strong frame of reference for when a task has been accomplished in real life. It doesn't experience a big enough difference between merely planning out the action and performing the action, so when you sit there and you think about what you should do and you go through the steps of it in your head, the single celled idiots who live in there feel like you basically just did all of those things and they celebrate a job well done with their pathetic little squirt of endorphins and they mark it off your to-do list.
And because those same inadequate reward juices also fuel your working memory, they very easily forget about the task altogether, which means the conscious part of you is highly likely to also forget whether you did that thing or even if it ever needed doing at all, and the little idiots dig through their files to alert you to something else they want to go over. But sooner or later the conscious part of you is going to pick up on the cues that there was something you meant to do and you didn't do, maybe seconds later or maybe days later, who the hell knows. Then you think about how you're going to do it and your little guys think "oh shit we're doing this again? Huh weird but GOOD JOB AGAIN EVERYONE!" and this can continue on a loop until the sun goes down and all you did since you woke up was scroll social media. This is not exclusive to ADHD, though; ADHD is when this is life-alteringly chronic. There are many other reasons your brain might be understimulated and not making its own coffee like it's supposed to. Neurotypical people might just experience this whenever they're tired enough. If it's 24/7/365 to the point that a lot of people just think you're flaky or lazy or apathetic, that might be ADHD. Your idiots are in there play-pretending your whole productive life without you.
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bookbrokelibrarian · 2 months
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141 x cook!reader
A/N: ehhehehehehee oh fuck yeah
WARNING: swearing
Last cook got the base sick twice in one week so it was time for a fucking change.
MRE’s could only hold the task force together for so fucking long let’s be honest.
It’s probably the one idea Price is on board with tbh.
So here you go, into your new workplace.
The kitchen in itself is spotless. Thank the fucking Lord.
The last kitchen you were in had the place in shambles when you turned up. Someone at least had the decency to give you a clean space.
Opening the HUMONGUS fridges you are glad to see them stocked. This isn’t your first rodeo.
Originally you were stationed at a behavioral boot camp. Given the reputation of the food, you were recommended by the very people who hired you.
You won’t lie, some of those kids were the sweetest. You’d miss them dearly.
But this was a new start. Bigger things, better pay. And your emotions weren’t gonna pay your bills. Unfortunately.
You got to the base at 2 in the fucking morning. Luckily, you were used to that schedule. Soldiers would be up at 5-6 am. Breakfast would be served by then and then clean up at 7.
Your cooking crew were little worse for wear but you managed. You don’t know who the other head cook was but they really had these soldiers on their toes. You had asked to try something one of them finished and cringed at the lack of salt. The poor soldier *flinched* when you looked at him.
It took some time but eventually your team got the hang of it. One morning you went out to the mess hall yourself to do inventory checks and help other cooks set up and clean.
Passing by Price you gave him a polite nod of the head, unbeknownst to you, his eyes followed you to the kitchen door till you disappeared.
Also unbeknownst to you the boys were havnt a fucking field day with your food. It was awful that they weren’t allowed all they could eat, because holy shit could they eat a lot.
Seconds are *loaded* on their trays
Even Ghosts
Especially SOAPS.
My God you get suprised with how many eggs you go through every fucking morning.
Lunch rolls around and today you decided to try something new.
Big mistake.
“Hey uh Crook?”
The name stuck after you told one of your cooks not to call you chef. Misspoken words are funny nicknames.
“Yeah?”
“We’re out of bread for the broccoli soup.”
You never whipped your head around so fast.
“huh?! We’re supposed to have enough-!”
“No offense Crook but you underestimate how much these guys eat. The 141 alone.”
You roll your eyes so far back you swear you saw your own brain.
It’s a piece of fucking bread, how fast were they going out?!
Well my dear.
It was bread made by your very hands. From scratch. And my god. Did you do a number on it.
Gaz was in the process of stuffing his face as soon as you walked out of the kitchen, seeing you hurry over to the stations with the soups.
These fuckers finished a whole canister of fucking cheese n broccoli soup.
“Son of a-“
“Problem, cook?”
You turn and met the eyes of Captain Price.
“Ahhh…” rubbing the back of your neck you let out a nervous chuckle. “No no, just checking what needs to be exchanged.”
He nods, and you see a genuine smile on his face. “I have to say,” he stands right next to you, his eyes scanning over the mess hall.
“You’ve done quite a number on my men. Food really does hit the heart. Thank you.”
You can help but blush. “Uh…no problem…sir.”
Getting thanks wasn’t uncommon. At the behavioral camp, the officers often commended you for being so passionate with food. Often gave the kids a better start to a shitty day. I guess doing the same for the soldiers wasn’t any different.
“Just doing my job.”
“No, (L/n). No.”
He motions over your crew changing the trays out.
“They, are just doing their job.” And he points to you, “you, are working wonders.”
Dinner rolls around and good lord you better count yourself lucky that you had your crew baking and grilling as soon as lunch was cleaned up.
You *barely* made enough to last the three hours.
You watched from the window, how Gaz n Ghost loaded up their plates with potatoes, and collared greens.
Soap was loading his plate with nothing but protein.
The bread was fucking gone in seconds.
Very awkwardly, you switched the bread tray, and watched as all of the 141 each took not one, not two, but three pieces of fucking bread each.
Gaz sheepishly tried to put one back before you let a soft laugh, “just take it.”
Never seen a grown man’s eyes light up so quickly.
By the time you’re done, it’s 9 pm. And the kitchen staff cleaned effortlessly, leaving you to write down what you’ll be needing for next weeks set up. Your gonna have to talk to Price about money if you’re gonna need more supplies.
Before you leave, you notice a tiny gift bag left on one of the mess hall counters.
Nervously you open the card and read.
‘So sorry for vacuuming up the food, Crook. Here’s from our appreciation.’
It’s an assortments of goodies, cookies, candies, hell even energy drinks.
You can’t help but snort a laugh
A/N: real shit I might go into detail of breakfast lunch n dinner.
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erwinsvow · 10 days
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Orrr shy reader dying of embarrassment (but not really) when rafe has a jealousy fit
- 💓
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you paw at your boyfriend's arm, trying to pull him away. your face is flushed with heat at the scene in front of you—rafe pushing some random boy at the party against the closest surface, slamming his head onto a table and holding him down. there’s a crowd forming, which makes you want to curl up into a ball and cry on the floor, because there’s nothing worse than crowds.
you stand corrected, because you’re realizing there is something worse—rafe getting angry at some stranger for talking to you and choking him out. 
it’s a little silly of you, to completely ignore what everyone had been telling you about rafe, but you had done it anyways. all the talk about his temper and aggression had been easily forgotten when he treated you so sweetly—attending to your every need, changing the way he talked to make sure he didn’t spook you into thinking he was upset, being incredibly understanding when you froze up or started crying. 
the rafe others talked about was exactly that—just for others, never for you.
“y’like botherin’ innocent girls? huh?” you squirm at the sight of the boy in pain as rafe presses his head down, bending his arm behind his back. the boy tries to stay something back, but all that comes out is tortured noises. “i should break your arm. that’ll be a lesson.”
it’s all too much for you—yes, the boy wouldn’t leave you alone while rafe went to get you a drink. yes, he wouldn’t take no for an answer, not even i have a boyfriend, told to him while staring at your shoes. you still don’t think he deserves this, because he’s in a lot of pain, and your boyfriend is the one causing it.
“rafe, c’mon,” you plead again, pressing your hand to his back, trying to pull him away. your soft grip does nothing. “please, rafe, i wanna go, i don’t like this-” 
rafe loosens his grip on the stranger’s arm, letting it fall. he picks him up by the back of his shirt, pulling him to look at you. you take a step back automatically, getting frightened, but rafe nods at you to come closer. 
“s’your lucky day, asshole. my girl doesn’t like fights. tell ‘er sorry..” the boy mumbles something but rafe shakes him again, until the boy looks at you and sputters out an apology. he lets him fall back, and guides you away. you notice all the people staring, the boy probably staring daggers at rafe. you want to look back—go back and apologize yourself to everyone, even to the boy bothering you, like you’re used to doing—but rafe grips your waist tight and doesn’t even let you turn your head. 
back in his truck, you’re all shaky breaths and watery eyes. he thinks that would have made him mad once upon a time. not now.
“c’mon, stop cryin’. what’s wrong?” he sounds gentle, and you almost forget what he just did.
“y-you scared me. it was scary.”
“you got nothing to be scared of.” he doesn’t sound upset with you, but you still worry that he is, with the way your shoulders are still quivering. he knows you, knows how your little brain spins when you’re afraid he’s getting mad. “you’re my girl, i have to protect you, okay? that’s my job. just doing my job.” 
you look up at him with your wet eyes, holding eye contact for longer than you usually can, before looking back at your lap, playing with your hands.
“thank you. m’sorry, rafe.” rafe puts his hand on your chin and uses it to tilt your head up, until the two of you are looking at each other again.
“why’re you sayin’ sorry?” 
“because…if he hadn’t talked to me nothing would have happened. and i feel terrible. and your knuckles probably hurt, now.” he holds back a laugh as best as he can, but you still notice it. 
“none of that was your fault. stop apologizin’ for shit you didn’t do. my knuckles are fine.” he wipes a spilled tear away from your cheek. “m’not gonna let someone treat you like that. even if you don’t care. i fuckin’ care. got it?”
“got it,” you murmur back, looking up at him with big, hazy eyes. you don’t think you were ever upset at rafe, just upset that it was even happening. but now, in the comfort and safety of his truck, you take in the meaning of his words—how much he’d do for you, how much he cares, how you don’t have to feel bad about it. “can i come back home with you?”
“sure, kid. wanna watch a movie?”
“no, i wanna make it up to you.”
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beatrixstonehill2 · 4 months
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"None of my tops fit.... Nothing zips or buttons... I just can't keep up. Guys, I'm gonna have to go topless 24/7 soon. Thank you all for smashing those sub goals and sharing my Twitch all over social media..... When I first came up with the subscription incentive of taking breast growth pills, I thought it would be harmless fun. Like do these things ever work???? I was barely a B-Cup, so what did I have to lose? Well, being able to wear clothes is a start. Or not getting groped a dozen times a day. Or not dripping milk everywhere like some dumb hucow...... God I was such a moron for doing this!
But don't get it twisted. I'm SO grateful to you all. I got to quit my day job and now I stream full time, but these breasts are getting insanely huge. Like.... I'm legit considering throwing out all my tops, converting any dresses I like into skirts.... That's it. And you guys know I'm too addicted to growing out my breasts now to actually stop. I love it. Although it's painful and humiliating and I get raped like some free use cum dump on public transportation and at parks.... Even in line at the grocery store or bank, some dudes are so thirsty. So now you can't even really see it, but my belly is constantly full of kids. I try to show you guys when I remember to..... I'm exaggerating a bit, but soon my boobs will cover my whole belly and lap.... you won't even know I'm filled with some stranger's kids.
And it's so effed up, but I thank guys that randomly grope and fuck me. I guess I'm so into geek culture and games and anime.... hentai... that my brain is rotting. I used to be so against all this stuff but look at me now, acting like a perfect hentai bimbo, happily getting fucked in public, filled with cum, putting on a show for people's phones.... It's so sick but I love it. And my channel's only growing. I'm going to wind up as one of those front-page girls, aren't I? Naked, my boobs so big I'm surrounded by them, my arms resting on them with my mouse and keyboard as I play. I legit can't move and have to hire maids to clean me, feed me, and milk me.... If I'm rich, I guess it won't matter if I'm immobilized by these things, huh? I hope my spine doesn't snap from being so reckless, but they have those ocular computer and gaming interfaces paralyzed and quad amputee girls use so who cares, I guess? I'm destined to have my tits weigh 200lbs each..... And I'll love every second of it."
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thevirgincherry · 3 months
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JINGLE BELL COCK !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. p in v, uncle/niece incest, somno
notes. MERRY CHRISTMAS!! this is very messy and rushed i haven’t been able to write properly lately so forgive me for the repetitiveness and clunkiness!! ignore typos as always :3 feedback n rbs always appreciated !!! this is reallyyy sloppy and I’m embarrassed so I may go back and delete and rewrite in a few days time 😭
tumblr has started to remove fics that use tw non-con, tw incest and any nsfw tags in general. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags so i can have the same reach as other authors, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.
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“Woah,” Leon's knees almost buckle when you barrel into him, “Pumpkin, wow,” He takes you in, settles his hands on your hips, and it might be inappropriate ‘cause your mother glares at him over your shoulder. What did she want him to do? Grab your ass? Could’ve, should’ve, would’ve. Just doesn’t wanna get put on a list of some kind. “You’re so big now.”
“Yeah?” Your cheeks split with a sweet smile, “I missed you, uncle.”
“God, you’re so big I can’t believe it,” He gives you a once over, he’d like to catcall you to show you how he feels, Leon refrains from doing so. “I remember when you were a kid, always sat in my lap ‘n said you wanted to marry me.”
“Awww,” A gloved hand comes to pat his cheek, you take the tip of the fabric between your teeth, taking it off finger by finger, “I can do that again if you’d really like, uncle.” Your nails scratch his scruffy chin, press your finger into the divot he hates so much, then you stare right at it. Don’t look at that, god. Totally messed him over. Shit fucked up his golden ratio.
“What're you lookin’ at, pumpkin?” He shifts from foot to foot, moves his flight bag from one shoulder to the other.
“Just never seen you with a beard,” You shrug, beaming at him once more. Okay, not the chin then, thank fuck. “It’s cute, uncle, makes you look older.” Leon doesn’t know if that’s good or bad, though he feels his spinal disk shrink with each passing second.
You turn on your heels when his sister-in-law, fine as ever, says your name, “We should go before she gets pissy.” You tell him cheekily, taking his hand in yours, and you’re so big now he can’t believe it. A whole lot of tit, hip, and your ass ain’t too shabby either. Leon’s justification is that he’s only a man, can't help himself when he sees a pretty girl, even if said girl is his niece. He’s an honest guy, gotta give his brother props for marrying such a smokeshow, even more credit for knocking her up. ‘Cause she popped out an even hotter girl, younger, brighter, and your tits sit prettier.
Their family stands on crumbling foundations, when he’s around his brother, Leon’s five seconds away from blowing his brains out at any given moment. He doesn’t know why people question his suicidal tendencies, he’s more than willing to show them. Snow crunches under his boots as he navigates the path leading up to the front door. The layer of glossy red paint has chipped away to reveal the mahogany beneath. It’s been that long, huh?
“I’m in college now, I have my licence and everything, uncle, I wanted to visit you in D.C. but I couldn’t get ahold of you,” You chatter to him, tugging at your laces and propping your shoes up on the shelf near the door, make the move to grab his suitcase, but Leon swiftly moves it aside. “I can carry it, I’m a big girl now.”
“No, you’re not,” Leon frowns, to him you’re a baby. An undeveloped prefrontal cortex and a soft spot on the top of your head. Yeah, you got a rack now, sure, he wants to fuck you now - doesn’t change a thing.
“Okay, well did you bring me a present?” You trail after him, and you really are still a baby.
“Yeah, you’re my favourite girl, I bought you lots.” He’s not sure if you’ll like it. Colouring books, dolls, plastic jewellery. He’s a bit of an idiot. Didn’t think about how long it’s been.
“Can I open them now?” You seat yourself next to him on the couch, knee bumping his.
“Later, pumpkin, I promise.”
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“I want to transfer to Washington.” Wine trickles over the edge of your cup, Leon soaks it up with a napkin, dabs at your face when a rivulet dribbles down your chin.
His brother’s knocked out in their dad’s old armchair, it’s beyond saving, but he’s cheap. Your mom retired to bed a while back, they argued over something trivial, a cheeseboard or some shit, and with that it leaves the two of you.
“Yeah? You got friends out there or what?”
“No, but you’re there, uncle.” You grin, batting your lashes so pretty he gets without popping a viagra or two. Three. He needs three minimum. “I could come stay with you, right?”
Fuck no, under no circumstance should he be allowed within fifty feet of you. And here Leon is, bumping knees, brushing fingers like you’re lovesick teens on a first date. That’s just not right, is it? He’s a decrepit old man on his way to getting a senior bus pass, and he’s your uncle and all. Can’t really go around popping boners over family members.
“I work too much.” Leon says coolly, sweat dripping from his temple, drumming his fingers against the table. “Hey, you wanna open your presents?”
“Yes!” You nod with wild enthusiasm, like a bobblehead, cute ones you keep on the dashboard. Leon would love to take you home with him, display you on the mantle like a China doll, show you off like some rare artefact. Just can’t, he’d end up doing something awful, peeking in on you showering— or worse he’d start sleepwalking, get into your room- “Go get them then, uncle.”
The paper is pink, the shade you used to adore as a young girl, the colour you’ve since painted over in your room. He got that professionally wrapped, big bow on it and all. Leon’s not good at making things look pretty. It’s easier to assemble a gun than it is to wrap presents. Your name is scrawled on the tag in cursive writing that belongs to none other than Claire, she insisted on doing so, felt inclined after seeing his chicken-scratch.
“It’s for me, you shouldn’t have, uncle!” You snatch it out of his hands, Jesus, had more manners when you were a kid. Once you tear through the paper, you blink down at the plastic princess costume jewellery. Clip-on earrings, fluffy mules that are much too tiny, the whole lot. “Oh, wow, well, it sure is nice.”
“Pumpkin,” Leon starts, “It slipped my mind that you’re a big girl now, I wasn’t thinkin’ and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” You placate him with your smile, “I’m just glad you’re here.” Cheesy, still makes him swoon.
“We can go shopping ‘fore I go back, I’ll buy you whatever, yeah?”
“I don’t need that,” You shake your head, eyes flitting from his lower half then to his lips. He’s making shit up in his head now. It’s late, Leon should go to sleep, doesn’t wanna start kissing on you and end up in court. “Oh, you’re going already?”
“I’m tired, pumpkin.” My dick is so hard it’s cutting off all blood flow to my brain, my pants are squeezing it so tight I’m gonna contract sepsis and that shit will fall straight off, I don’t want my dick to fall off, pumpkin, hope you can understand my reasoning. Leon hopes you can see the desperation in his eyes, that you can see the sentiment he’s trying to get across.
The bed creaks with his weight, and it’s the same dusty, bed-bug ridden shit his brother’s had for years. He jerks off, blows his load on his stomach, too worn out to clean it up. Falls asleep with his hand down his pants. Then Leon starts having wet dreams like he’s twenty-one again, of your petal lips, of your hands on his dick, your tits, how your thighs look when you sit. Warmth engulfs his cock, and it’s so real, he’s so sure you’re right there, sucking him off like a good girl. You’re cute like a sex doll, and it’s unfair that he has to put on this uncle act. Used to come natural to him when you were a kid, but it’s just different.
Only when Leon lifts his hand does he come into contact with skin, with hair, and a human. At first, he thinks it’s the dog, one of the three. Then he feels small hands parting his thighs further, the familiarity of your smile warming his skin.
“Pumpkin.” Leon rasps, and it’s not quite warning, just a tone that says keep going, but this is fucked up, doesn’t mean I don’t want it though. He thanks you for making the first move.
You pull off with a wet pop, kissing along his Apollo’s belt. “I want to come to D.C. and stay with you,” You say between fervid kisses, “I want to be with you, uncle, you’re handsome and I like you.” Your confession is feverish, he wonders if you realise the weight of your words. Can’t go around telling lonely old men that you like ‘em.
“I’m your uncle, pumpkin.” Leon states simply, ‘cause he’s an adult and he’s collected, but you can keep pumping his dick like that, he really don’t mind.
“No one would know,” You kiss the sticky tip, pre smeared over your lips like lip gloss, tongue poking out to taste him, dipping into his leaky slit. “I could be your girlfriend.” Leon doesn’t even know you, he knows the little girl you once were.
Leon’s too old for that shit. Girlfriend boyfriend talk. “I’m too old to be dating, pumpkin.” He cradles the back of your head with his calloused hand, guides you to base of his shaft, your tongue tracing the vein that runs along the underside of his cock.
“Yeah, but you’re not too old to marry me, are you?” You’re a clever girl, giving him a cheeky smile as you sit up and clamber into his lap.
“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Don’t stop, pumpkin. Same thing. He hopes his dick says enough, standing proud as you lift your hips, wet hole stretching to accommodate his fat tip. Leon can’t see your face, but he shuts his eyes and thinks about it, how your lips would part so pretty, and you’d toss your head back, sweat making your skin all shiny.
“I just really like you, uncle.” One way ticket out of this shitty town, away from his shitry brother, away from your narc bitch of a mom, free food, free housing - Leon understands your motive. Truly, he does, and he can’t find it in himself to give a damn. If you pretend to love then it matters all the same.
“Okay, then sit on it, pumpkin.” Leon urges, firm hands finding purchase on your hips, forcing you down on his cock till you take all of him to the hilt. The head bumps your cervix, and Leon is in love with you. Thank fuck he came back home, thank god, thank Claire for pushing him to the point of booking a flight. “You wanna marry me?”
“I told you, didn’t I? Promised I was gonna marry you when I was a kid.” You press your tits flush to his chest, lips ghosting Leon’s. “I wanna marry you so bad, uncle, you’re all I want.” And Leon can’t help himself, doesn’t mean to let go so early, the coils of heat in his belly turn searing, and he empties himself into you with a groan. The quiet noise of disappointing you let out as his cock softens inside of you is adorable.
“You gotta get used to that if you marry me, I’m old now.” He strokes your head, holds you tight, refuses to let go now that he’s got you.
“I can deal with it, uncle, as long as I get to be your wife.”
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i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:
pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)
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Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.
He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).
Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.
After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve. 
Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.
“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.
“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”
“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.
Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before. 
Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.
“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.
“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”
Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”
“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”
“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”
“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”
“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.
And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.
“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.
“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”
Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.
He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–
“Holy shit.”
He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.
“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”
‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..
“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach. 
Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.
“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.
His very well sculpted shoulders.
And arms.
And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..
Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”
“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”
Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.
He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.
When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.
The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.
Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.
“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.
Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.
“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.
Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”
Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.
“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”
“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.
Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”
“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”
Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”
“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.
They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.
He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.
He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.
“Eddie–”
“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.
He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.
“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”
Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.
“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”
“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.
Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”
“Do I?”
“I think you do.”
“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”
“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”
“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.
Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.
He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”
Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.
“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back. 
Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.
“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.
“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”
Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”
Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”
Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.
He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.
“I think that sounds amend—-”
Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.
“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.
“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”
Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”
“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”
“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”
“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.
Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.
“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.
He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”
“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”
“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.
“You think I’m hot?”
“Very.”
“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”
“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”
“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.
“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”
“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”
Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”
He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.
“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”
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part 2/2 here | and on AO3!
definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes
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saerins · 1 year
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─── 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒
+ sae x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: angst, insecurities, death
notes: i’m sorry idk how this came about but i was in a mood :’) i promise i love him okay <3 feedback & reblogs appreciated !!
summary: he’s back home, and you recall the times you’d spoken to him. all the calls you made, then all the calls he made, and then all the times it went to voicemail.
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you remember every conversation you’ve had with your boyfriend. the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. it’s hard to quantify into numbers since you’d been together for the last five years.
but there’s a few of them that are prominent, that are burned into your mind, engraved onto your brain. the sound of his laugh, for one, that’s always been precious to you, if only for the fact that he doesn’t laugh often.
sae always said you were the only one who could get that out of him, and you’ve kept it close to your heart since.
to the world, he may have seemed rude and off-putting at times, and despite the countless false reports of sae being an asshole to all his girlfriends in private (because the media can never decide who he’s actually with), he’s always been the same itoshi sae to you—the kind of guy who only ever bothers what you think about him because the other people not involved in your relationship don’t matter.
you remember everything he’s ever done for you.
“you know that one day you’ll be mrs. itoshi, right?”
yeah, you definitely remember.
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MARCH 2020; [ sae’s fifth day in spain ]
“you miss me, itoshi sae?”
you can feel him rolling his eyes from the other end. “i should just hang up right now.”
“you could, but then you’d miss me even more.”
sae suppresses a grin, even if there’s no one around to see it. you’re right, but he doesn’t say anything.
it was rare for sae to call you at all. but then again, it is the first time you two had been apart since you got together. maybe it isn’t so weird after all.
“how’d practice go today?”
“it’s fine, nothing i couldn’t handle.” of course he’s fine, he’s the youngest on the team and yet it was as though he’d played the longest.
“of course it was fine, mr genius,” you tease, and he smiles because he knows you’re smiling too.
you can’t really remember how the rest of the conversation went. but you only remember this moment because it was the first time you realised that amidst all the times you’d pester him to go on a date with you, amidst all the times you asked him for a kiss, sae could miss you too.
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SEPTEMBER 2020; [ sae comes back to japan soon ]
“hey so i was thinking, i’ll meet you at the airport?”
sae hums, “wanna see me that bad, huh?”
“shut up,” you snap at him, hating his quick tongue that so easily gets you flustered. “so i miss my handsome, successful boyfriend, big deal.”
he missed you too.
“am i just arm candy for you, y/n?”
“what? no—”
“too late. i’m offended. bye.”
then he actually hangs up on you.
it takes you half a second to pull up your message thread with him.
itoshi sae, you wanna die or something?
it takes him the same amount of time to respond to you.
y/n l/n, okay, then maybe i’d get some relief from you.
before you can even be actually offended, your phone vibrates again.
miss you too, stupid. see you tomorrow.
you can’t seem to rub the smile off your face.
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FEBRUARY 2021; [ first valentines’ apart ]
it takes him three rings to pick up.
“happy valentines’, lover,” you giggle over the phone.
it’s been a few months since your about-to-go-pro soccer player boyfriend had gone back to spain, doing pro soccer player things. you miss him, especially since it’s the first time you guys are spending the romantic occasion apart.
it sucks that you couldn’t even spend new years with him. it’s okay though, you managed to video call him while you spent time with his family.
“think you got the wrong number.”
“itoshi—”
“open the door, smarty pants.”
“w-wait, what? did you send me something?”
you hurry over to your front door, not knowing what to expect. but you definitely didn’t expect sae to be there, in the flesh, sighing when you finally open your door, a pretty bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“what are you doing here?” you’re still shocked from his mere presence.
sae smirks, and you realise just how much you miss him. “think i got the wrong apartment, i was supposed to deliver these to my other girl—”
but you kiss him to shut him up. he’s full of nonsense, and so, so witty, and he’s here.
sae’s always claimed that it was not soccer stealing him from you, it was more the other way around. and he had been joking at the time he said that, but right now he thinks maybe there’s some truth to it.
if there’s anyone capable of having and getting him to willingly relinquish his attention from soccer, it’s you.
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JUNE 2021; [ night of sae’s first PR event ]
“someone looks handsome,” you comment as you watch your boyfriend getting ready over the phone.
he has an entire entourage of people over at his hotel—they must be the makeup crew and stylists. his entire team is getting vip treatment for being champions of the league thanks to last week’s game. now, even more brands are trying to sponsor them and you really shouldn’t be surprised over the amount of girls going crazy over your boyfriend.
“and someone should really sleep,” sae pauses for a moment when the man beside him (presumably his stylist, because he’s double checking sae’s suit) asks a quick that your girlfriend?, to which sae says “yes.”
the man winks at you through the video. “lucky girl,” he comments, eyes back on the fabric he’s touching, “the only time i caught him smiling was while he was texting ya.”
you snicker through the phone as you watch sae’s face go beet red before frowning at you.
“he did not.”
his stylist is laughing at his reaction too. “totally did. i thought he was possessed.”
sae grabs the phone and relegates himself to the bathroom, glaring at you through the screen. he’s not mad at you, he’s just embarrassed and you know that. you’ve known him long enough now to tell his cues.
“i hope you know i hate you.”
he’s always all bark and no bite and you’re still laughing at him.
“aw, i hate you too, mr itoshi.”
“stop with the smart mouth before i find another contender for a mrs itoshi.”
you and sae had been staring at each other through the screen up until that point, when sae realised what he just said and has to look away.
“you… think i could be?”
neither you nor sae have ever broached another about the future, and sae has always been generally avoidant about it, which is why it makes you even more surprised that he’s the one who slipped up about it.
after a moment of silence, he sighs, trying to suppress a smile. it tugs at the edges of his lips, not really there but you can feel it.
“you know that one day you’ll be mrs itoshi, right?”
you don’t know that, he doesn’t know that, not until the day has come. but yeah, you really, really want to be.
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OCTOBER 2022; [ sae’s birthday ]
“happy birthday, mr. itoshi,” you greet when he picks up the phone.
things had been rocky lately, admittedly. only because you and sae lived worlds apart.
sae is famous now, in both japan and europe, and it’s no surprise because he’s one of the best midfielders anyone has ever seen. his life is now full of the glitz and glam that you’re not even close to familiar with.
and you; you’re just a simple girl living in tokyo, with a normal life and normal friends and normal everything. except for the fact that sometimes people stalk you online because based on theories, you’re his girlfriend.
he was advised against confirming your identity with the press. for a myriad of reasons, apparently. and you’re fine with it, because yeah, you’re aware there are games to be played when you have his status. and it was fine with you, except for times when it’s not.
like how at his previous PR event he had to appear like he was dating some other celebrity. which was fine, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t suck having to see your boyfriend appear intimate with someone else. even worse when you hear said someone else mention in multiple interviews that she’s always had a huge crush on him.
“thanks, though it kinda sucks today.”
but it’s fine; you’ve been with him long enough to know that sae isn’t the type to hurt you like that. so even if it’s rocky, it doesn’t stop you from loving him.
“why? i thought the guys were bringing you out drinking tonight.”
sae sighs. “that’s exactly why.”
you smile, thinking how sae is still the same sae you’ve always known. “you’ve been playing with them for more than a year now, i think one night out wouldn’t kill you, babe.”
“but they’re freaks.” and sae says that because they’re rowdy, noisy guys and he doesn’t even want to imagine them drunk.
“we both know they’re going to bother you to no end if you don’t go,” you point out, and sae relents. “and if you need an escape when you’re too tired, you could just use my name.”
you break into a grin because you know for a fact that sae uses you as an excuse to his publicist sometimes to not attend events.
“yeah, maybe i’ll tell ‘em the missus is angry,” he jokes, and you find yourself wishing you could hug him right now.
“have fun tonight, okay?” a little hesitance comes to you before you ultimately open your mouth, “i love you.”
sae chuckles, and he can’t even describe the relief that comes to him each time he hears you say those words.
“i love you too.”
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DECEMBER 2022; [ the day you break ]
you don’t pick up his call.
when you saw the picture earlier, it’s like you’ve gone numb. and now everyone in the world will see the picture too. but you don’t really care. the images the paparazzi capture will die down after a while. the rumours will take longer.
right now you’re not even sure if your relationship is dead.
but you love him. you still do. and he’s still calling for what seems like the ninetieth time tonight.
this time you pick up.
“what?”
sae flinches on the other line because he’s not used to this coldness. “can i at least explain?”
you sniffle, gritting your teeth to stop your crying. “sure, why don’t you explain why i had to find out from the fucking news that you kissed someone else on your birthday?”
it’s that girl. the same celebrity you’ve seen ogling him and gushing over him and the one who has PR relations with him.
“i promise, she means nothing,” and you can hear the panic in sae’s voice. he sounds apologetic and manic and scared. “look, i-i was drunk, and she kissed me, and i pushed her off right after—”
“then why didn’t you tell me?” you yell back. because you’re sure that’s what happened. you believe him. but it wasn’t the fact that some other girl was so desperate for him that she’d do that, it was the fact that sae kept it from you.
sae can’t answer. he knows it, but he’s struggling to find the words. “i-i didn’t want you to misunderstand,” is all he can manage.
you pause for a while because you’re crying again, and sae can sense it even if you’re silent. he loves you and he’s killing himself for his stupid decisions.
“sae,” you call him, softly. “is that how much you know me?” because after all this time, you’d think he’d know better. you trusted him. a hundred percent. now? you’re not sure.
“please, y/n, i’m sorry, please just- forgive me?” and sae’s not sure how to do this. sae’s never had anyone he cared about this much other than you. you’re the only one and you forever will be. and he’s stupid and clueless outside of soccer but he’s always had you to hold his hand through this, yet now you feel further away from him than ever.
you’re quiet and he’s not sure what to expect. you’re just sniffling on the other side, not saying anything, and for the first time in his life, sae is afraid.
“babe, i—”
“don’t say it, sae,” you sigh, because you don’t want to think that he’s saying it just to appease you.
sae obeys, because he’s scared that just a little nudge would push you right off the edge. “i’m gonna fix this, okay? i’ll tell everyone that—”
“it’s fine,” you interject, your mind in shambles. you’re tired, and you really don’t know what to do about this when it’s so fresh in your heart. “i need to think things through anyway.”
“no- y/n, please, i—”
and for the first time ever, you’re the one who hangs up abruptly. then you turn off your phone because you know sae’s not going to stop but you really just don’t want to to feel bad about not picking up.
you still love him, but you’re just heartbroken right now.
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sae stares at his phone after you hang up. he can hear his heart beating out of his chest and his breathing gets shallow. he tries to call you again but it’s not even ringing.
there’s only one thing he knows: he fucked up.
a stupid, stupid mistake which was grave enough to make you doubt everything and you’re right. this was on him for not opening his stupid mouth and just trusting that you’d understand.
for the first time ever, he heard what you sounded like when you’re hurt and he can’t forgive himself. not if he doesn’t do anything about it.
he gives up on trying to call you and pulls up his club’s coach’s contact instead. “sub someone else in for me tomorrow, i won’t be there.”
“what? what are you talking about? we can’t play without our star midfielder! it’s a big match against our home rivals—”
but everything he’s lecturing sae about falls on deaf ears because sae’s already packing his duffel bag and searching for his passport. he doesn’t even bother acknowledging anything before he hangs up, dialing his assistant’s number instead.
“i need to fly back to tokyo. immediately.”
his assistant’s distraught voice is apparent. “wha- um, you have a game tomorrow—”
“i don’t care. i need to fly now. get me a flight or you’re fired.”
“uh, but- um, the private jet’s not available—”
“then get me tickets on a commercial flight. i don’t fucking care about what kind of plane it is.”
yeah, because he only cares about fixing things with you. no one and nothing else, just you.
his assistant sighs because he knows he’s going to get in trouble for aiding sae. “fine, i’ll send you the details soon.”
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JANUARY 2023; [ the present ]
it goes straight to voicemail. you still talk.
“you know, i hate you so much for not having a voicemail recording.”
you pause, the tears streaming down your face. you’re staring at your phone, at his instagram, at his last post. something he posted before his flight.
a picture of the both of you in private, in your room. he’s sitting behind you on the bed, his arms around your neck as he kisses your head and you take the picture.
it’s funny because he was forbidden from sharing any sort of those pictures yet he still did it anyway. you stare at the caption.
i love only you
“itoshi sae, how am i going to hear your voice now, huh?”
you’re already full-on crying now, as you have been for the last month.
“itoshi sae! talk to me, answer me!” you’re screaming but no one will ever hear you.
how can sae hear you? you’re unreasonable for expecting that.
“tell me how to reach you,” you wail into the receiver.
you’re painfully aware of what you’re getting now.
“i love you, mr. itoshi.”
there’s no one on the other line who’ll chuckle now. you can’t hear the same fondness in his voice when he says he loves you too. you can’t ever hear him joking with you again.
no more sighs, no more video calls, no more love. no more you know one day you’ll be mrs. itoshi, right?
you hang up and look at the note in your hand; something sae’s assistant passed to you on the day of his funeral.
a few weeks ago, sae asked me to get this for him. i know he wanted you to have this. before he left for tokyo, he told me to get this done for you at all costs. it was only ready a day after he left. i thought you might still like to have this. i’m sorry you have to go through this.
the gold velvet box sits heavy in your hand. it’s all of sae’s commitment to you, feelings for you—it’s all of his resolution in one tiny package and it’s heavy.
you open it, same as the countless times before.
it’s still beautiful. it’s shiny and four carats and princess cut because you were always his princess. inside the band, he has mrs itoshi engraved.
you know one day you’ll be mrs. itoshi, right?
you bring up his messages and play the last audio he sent to you.
“look, i know i fucked up and it was stupid of me to keep it from you. i’m sorry, okay? and i know you don’t want to speak to me right now but i can’t just sit around and do nothing. i love you, so i’m coming back home, and we’ll talk, and then… i promise you, nothing like this will happen again.”
you remember your last words to him and can’t help but to hate yourself. you should’ve told him one last time before you lost your chance.
if you’d just stayed on the line, he wouldn’t have come back. if he didn’t come back, he wouldn’t have gotten into that cab. if he didn’t get into that cab, he wouldn’t have been in that fatal accident in shibuya.
staring at the ring, calling his number, getting no response, visiting his plot and running into rin. and repeat. that’s all life is now.
sometimes you wear the ring to pretend he’s still here. to pretend he’s already proposed and you’re waiting for him to come back from spain.
you’re probably at voicemail #314 now.
mrs itoshi stares at you until you’re crying all over again.
you’ll never hear his voice again. never hear his laugh. never get to hug him, or pick fights with him. you’ll never get to feel his broad shoulders or his strong arms around your body. you won’t get to go home ever again.
you’ll never be mrs itoshi now.
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tiredcreatur3 · 1 year
Text
third part to the toji being your boyfriend’s father, enjoy.
-
“t-to.. to-toji.” you whimpered out, so so out of it as you rested your back against the wall, nothing on but a cropped tank top and your shorts that were now hanging by your ankle while the older male ate you out.
you were doing laundry in the laundry room downstairs while megumi was at work and toji just, well, decided to tag along.
he lifted you up on the drying machine with no problem after you pulled your shorts down and oh, nothing could’ve prepared you for this much pleasure.
you still felt shitty for doing this to megumi, for cheating on him with his fucking father of all people and it was definitely always in the back of your mind. you knew you were just as much of a scumbag as toji was now.
he just looked up at you, not stopping as his nose nudged at your clit nicely, having the man suckling on you so so well, your legs resting on his shoulders as you fell apart on his tongue.
you couldn’t even speak, cunt throbbing whenever the male pulled away just for a second before leaning right back in. your pussy was all warm and wet, getting taken care of so so well, turning into a gooey slimy mess whenever the older male got close to it.
you let out soft whines once the male pulled away and stood up, towering above you as he licked his lips and smiled. he had to admit that the view he had no was quite adorable, your legs all spread out, cunt wet and sore, all pink and buzzing for just the slightest touch or lick, your eyes all soft and glossy, wanting so much more, being so so corrupted by him that megumi didn’t even cross your mind.
“what is it? doesn’t feel good when someone teases you like that huh?” he rasped out, noticing how you pawed at his cock pathetically, desperately tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants as you shook your head.
“i-i’m sorry, ‘m s-sorry.. won’t tease a-again.” you whimpered out, trembling with excitement once the male gave in, pulling your hips closer without a problem and slowly sliding his pants down, never wearing underwear around the house so you were met with his cock instantly, the cockhead resting against your soft folds, the older male sighing quietly.
toji’s head fell back slightly as he closed his eyes, slowly rubbing the underside of his cock through your soft wet folds, quiet rumbly hums leaving him as his eyes closed, big palms resting on your thighs, squeezing them every now and then.
you stayed silent, watching in awe for a while before carefully angling your hips with a small whine, the tip of toji’s cock nudging at your little needy hole begging to be filled up.
the older looked down at you, his expression always being hard for you to read, he was a man of actions rather than words as you could already tell from knowing him for some time.
he knew what you wanted. it was simple really, you were nothing but a spoiled little brat to him and he loved seeing you in despair, looking at him with those soft sad eyes of yours whenever something didn’t go your way. and of course also a cock hungry cum dump. but you were way too dumb to realize that he assumed.
after a bit of you whining for his dick, he eventually gave in, putting it in nice and slow just to see your cute little reaction, always so surprised how your pussy swallowed up his cock so easily.
he began to thrust his hips quite fast though, catching you off guard as you gasped softly, tightening around his cock with a little whimper while letting the male push your thighs back.
“i-it feels so good.. f-feels so good.” you babbled dumbly, basically folded in half as the male fucked you, using you just like that because oh, even though you annoyed the fuck out of him most of the time, you could be such a sweet little girl while he fucked your brains out.
toji stared down at you, groaning lowly as his hips rolled into you at a nice steady pace, having you trembling and your pussy making all those squelchy little sounds, your slick coating his cock nicely and wetting his pubic hair.
“i-i’m gonna cum, t-to..” you let out, feeling the orgasm bubbling in your lower tummy, taking a look down which was definitely not a good decision because you were coming seconds later.
“good girl.” he hummed out, slowing down the pace of his hips but not stopping, giving you a little kiss into your hair as you let the older use your pussy all he wanted, shaking, all spent and fucked out.
you almost didn’t hear the front door close shut downstairs, gasping softly as toji covered your mouth with his hand, hiding half of your face behind it as he shushed you, fucking you nice and hard again, not being able to let out a single sound because of the hand and because of how much this turned you on, as wicked as it sounded.
your poor little pussy getting treated like you were nothing but an actual whore but oh, you’ve never felt this much pleasure in your entire fucking life.
“does it feel good? hm?” he let out, looking at you, cooing as he found you so so pathetic but he’d be lying if he said this didn’t turn him on.
you nodded your head, not even a single sound leaving you but it was getting so hard to not cum again and the male knew, feeling how you clamped down on his dick and soon came all over it, slumping against the wall even more when toji cane inside you nice and deep, keeping his cock inside for a second or two before pulling out slowly, humming softly.
“get dressed and finish the laundry.” he let out, pulling his pants on and leaving the small laundry room, leaving you all fucked out, womb filled with his cum as you needed a minute to pick yourself up.
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fbfh · 7 months
Text
older!logan x reader hcs
wc: 1.6k
genre: age gap, sort of sugar daddy logan
warnings: big (but legal) age gap, logan is early 40s reader is like early 20s, brief odette mention, logan is a killer lawyer, rory kinda traumatized Logan lol, I haven't finished gilmore girls or ayitl yet so don't come for me lol, logan is obsessedddddddd with reader, mildly smutty, mentions of marriage and proposals, your relationship progresses really quickly
summary: you were reading in a coffee shop when a charming gorgeous much older guy decided to strike up a conversation. little do you know that within a very short time that same charming stranger will know your dress size, your shoe size, and your ring size.
song rec: off to the races - lana del rey
a/n: the choke hold older logan has on me..... euthanize me at this point lmao
tags @yesv01 @magcon7280
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As with all nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (like way over 18 in logan’s case lol)
That being said jesus christ let’s dive right into the brain rot
First things first, a little more about Logan
He’s in his early 40’s and aging like a fine goddamn wine
MEGA MEGA dilf vibes
After the whole millions of dollars sunken into a bad investment in his family’s massive media conglomerate mishap, he still faced a lot of pressure to join the family business
But with Rory rejecting his proposal, he felt so fucking down and beaten up by life
He just had two massive blows to his ego back to back
And he needed a win
Then the strangest thing happened 
He just got back from another late night of partying with his friends and switched on the tv so he wouldn’t have to fall asleep with his thoughts, and some random movie was playing
The girl in the movie is at dinner with her boyfriend and thinks he’s going to propose, but he breaks up with her instead
It hits a little too close to home and Logan’s about to switch it off
Then she decides to go to law school to prove herself
He finds himself getting more and more invested in this movie, relating more to Elle with every scene, and by the morning he confronts the idea he’s been shoving away for too long so he doesn’t rock the boat
He talks to his dad and they decide Logan will go to law school, but remain a prominent board member and shareholder of the family company
Mitchum is surprised by how responsible and well thought out Logan’s plan is
He’s forging a path to a very lucrative field - one Mitchum can tell he’s going to be very successful in - while still staying involved enough in the family business 
So Logan goes off to law school, and 20 years later he’s a total shark 
He’s a prestigious, expensive lawyer with a reputation for never losing and a long streak of killing it with really high profile cases
Now the Huntzberger name carries all the weight and power of his father’s media reach, and Logan’s success in the courtroom 
He’s excelling 
And he’s excelling enough to keep his family out of his personal life for a while 
He’s living the bachelor life until he hits 40
That’s when his parents decide it’s really unacceptable that he’s still not married 
So they tell him if he doesn’t get married soon they’ll arrange something
Some french heiress or something 
And Logan finds himself right back where he didn’t want to be
And then, like a gift from god, he sees you
Like I said in my initial drabble, Logan first saw you in a cafe reading some dusty novel no one actually reads like war and peace or crime and punishment or something
He's seen people your age do that before, reading complicated stuffy literature to seem smart and make some pretentious English class commentary that barely makes sense 
So he calls you on it
"War and Peace, huh?"
He’s expecting you to say something fake and pretentious
Some bullshit fake deep pseudo intellectual shit
But you look up at him, only pausing for a moment before you speak
You’re surprised to see such a gorgeous guy in a little cafe like this
Especially one that seems interested in talking to you
And god, the way you talk about it
The way your eyes light up
It takes him by surprise
He's not just interested
He's invested 
You start talking and realize that you've been talking for way longer than you expected to
And he wants more
He wants to know more about you, wants to see you sweet smile and hear your cute little laugh when he says something charming or compliments you
So he takes you out to dinner, his treat 
He guides you out the door and into his Porsche with his hand on your back 
It's a subtle gesture but it makes your stomach flip 
Then he buckles your seat belt for you
If you weren't sold before you sure are by now 
So he takes you to this nice fancy restaurant, wines and dines you, and he is laying on the charm thick
"Oh, come on. A pretty young thing like you must have a boyfriend."
"Really, you have excellent taste.”
You don’t miss the way he’s been eyeing you all night
And he doesn’t miss the way you squeeze your thighs together when he touches your face or plays with your fingers
One thing leads to another and after he pays the bill and leaves a generous tip, you find him ushering you back into his porsche
And yet again he closes your door for you and gets you all buckled in
This time when he drives his hand rests on your knee
He thinks he can handle this
He’s the biggest whore on the east coast /affectionate 
Then you grab his hand and move it up your thigh
There’s no going back now
He’s in just as deep as you are
Before you know it you’re tearing off each other’s clothes
His lips are all over you and motherfucker does he know what he’s doing
He worried for a moment he might have lost his edge
But as he lays you down into his big soft bed, your skin touching his silky sheets for the first time
But definitely not the last
As he finally touches you and feels how wet you are for him
He knows he didn’t peak in college
“Shh, listen,” he says between kisses that make you feel dizzy, “you’re gonna tell me if it’s too much for you, can you do that?”
You nod while he holds your face in his big hands
“You gotta say it,” he chuckles at how sweet you are, how well you respond to him, “use your words, baby…” 
You manage to choke out a desperate yes between kisses that makes his stomach twist
And that is the very beginning to your intense affair with Logan Huntzberger 
He’s desperate to see you again
He sends flowers and a dress and a gorgeous necklace to your apartment
And not the normal amount of flowers
The Logan amount of flowers
So a lot
And you can’t believe your luck finding a hot rich older guy that’s so into you 
You really like this attention
Your daddy issues are SCREAMING
And Logan likes having someone as gorgeous and intelligent and into him as you are
And he wants to do this right
But he’s rapidly approaching the deadline his family set
He doesn’t want to scare you off
GOD that’s the last thing he wants
But he is terrified of proposing and having it end up like it did the last time
Eventually he works up the nerve to talk to you about it 
He’s explaining everything to you while you pay your bills 
But it says they’re already paid
And your credit cards are paid off
And your debt has just disappeared
Even your student loans are gone
And there’s a fat deposit in your checking account 
He paid off all your debt and didn’t tell you
By the time he’s done explaining that you basically either need to get married asap or you can’t see each other anymore he still hasn’t brought it up
And you realize he’s not going to
He didn’t pay your bills to guilt you into anything
He’s not holding it over your head
He’s taking care of you
And all you’ve ever wanted is someone who will take care of you
Logan is surprised when you agree
But he’s even more surprised at how fast you agree
You sit in his lap and end up rambling about how much you love him, how you don’t think you’ll ever find anyone you like as much as him or anyone that treats you as well as he does
To no one’s surprise the conversation ends with him taking you on every surface of your apartment
Hours later you’re cuddling naked on your couch, resting your head on his muscular chest and listening to his heartbeat
“So like… are we engaged now?” you ask looking up at him
He laughs sweetly
“No, not yet. I have to actually propose first.”
You think back to your conversation earlier when you first said you’d want to marry him
“So that didn’t count before?”
His heart breaks at how little you ask for
“No, that didn’t count.” He kisses your head, “I’m going to take you out somewhere nice, give you a proper proposal, with a nice ring.”
You get butterflies thinking about it
You can’t believe how much he does for you
How much he wants to do for you 
You’re quiet for a moment, and he can feel you smiling into his chest
“...Okay.” 
Your voice is so small and bashful, and he can hear you suppressing a flustered giggle
Fuck he can’t get enough of you 
He laughs and pulls you closer, grabbing your chin and makes you look up at him so he can kiss you 
You fall asleep in his arms
And you think that you won’t mind being married so young if it’s Logan you’re marrying
Logan is looking at you with so much love and adoration
And right before he falls asleep 
He thinks that maybe it’s not too late for him to find love after all
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enihk-writes · 1 month
Text
[someone older]
pairing: older!multi-fandom men x gn!they/them!reader
reader is written to be in their early twenties, under twenty-five and fresh out of uni with their first degree and no corporate work experience.
summary: shorts about old men and a younger beau to-be
content warning: big age-gap relationships // superior-subordinate power imbalance // possible infantilization // some form of saviour-complex // (some unintentional) manipulation
characters: zhongli (genshin impact) // neuvilette (genshin impact) // jing yuan (honkai star rail) // tang gunak (return of the blossoming blade) // dokgo (return of the mad demon) // chongyue (arknights) // shamane (RE:1999) // hiromi higuruma (jujutsu kaisen) // ryū (gokurakugai)
author's note: my lovely oomfs i need yall to look away and pretend im doing okay,,, the demons and the little voices in my head have won and taken over..... i have to make that middle-aged man pregnant so so so so bad it's terminal... (head in hands)... OUGHHHHKKKGSHHH (coughs blood and straight up dies)..... looking at the list here i really have a type huh....
[PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY TRIGGERS CAUSED BEYOND THIS LINE]
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ZHONGLI who had lived for long enough to have seen and experienced almost everything one could see, was still taken aback when he felt a familiar throb in his heart as he conversed with the new face of the artisan's alley. a fledgling who had just left their nest and was beginning to make their way into the world — your naivety much unlike your more seasoned neighbours who knew how to set the prices of their goods to gain the maximum profit. you were often tricked and scammed out of selling your wares at their proper price, too scared to stand your ground and disrespect your older customers. the former archon couldn't bear to see a budding talent, such as yourself, sell themselves short out of expected social courtesy. he often found himself buying your highest-priced works even if he had to empty his entire wallet. you were beyond grateful for his patronage, even offering a commission, free of charge. that's just how bad business was before he stepped in. oh you poor thing, now that he knows how easy it was to get you dancing in his palm, how could he let you meet better opportunities? he was your lifeline, the only way you were going to make it in this career you chose. and you better not forget that.
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NEUVILETTE knew that he shouldn't be so enamoured with the new hire. really. a being who had been alive for as long as he falling in love with someone thousands of years their junior? he wanted to rip his hair out. the chief justice approached this predicament as he would with almost anything he deemed annoying — avoidance. sending you out on errands that kept you out of the office for the whole day, giving days off to everyone if there was nothing on the agenda, having you go sort out documents in the filing room, and a whole host of other things that made sure you and him wouldn't cross paths. once he had a clearer mind to sit down and think, he is immediately riddled with guilt. weren't his actions akin to that of a black company employer? you on the other hand, could not be happier to hit the jackpot. good pay, regular days off, responsibilities that didn't require you to rack your brain too much. this was everything an energy-saving adult like you could ever want. it must be nice to frolic around and stay blissfully unaware while your boss was in the middle of a mental breakdown alone in his office.
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JING YUAN was a calculating man, despite the commonly held belief that he never really took things too seriously. he kept a rather consistent air of nonchalance so impenetrable that it annoyed you whenever you couldn't discern what was on his mind at that moment. your after-hours hobby these days was to drop by the community starchess club and play a few rounds with the people there. and who else was waiting there at your seat every day? your damned boss. the elders who were there swooned over the handsome general, remarking about how you and him made a great pair — much to your chagrin. the man would always send a blinding smile in your way as you got closer, even going so far as to help you settle down. the routine was always the same each night. you would play against him for at least five rounds consecutively, lose against him in almost every single match, play against the other club members, gather your things and go home for the day. the general would also coincidentally be done with his activities. he offered to walk you to your front door, you've learnt from the one time you refused that the general was unusually talented in pulling an extremely sad, pathetic, wet and kicked puppy face. unfortunately, you were too nice to reject him further. ah, but now that he knew of that weakness of yours, you'd better expect that he would be pulling the same trick again soon.
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TANG GUNAK felt that he was far too geriatric to be feeling this way. especially when he had adult children of his own. the youngest of whom was only a few years older than you were. a talented person, emerging at the top of your class in the academy meant that the world was your oyster. so why had you decided to come down to sichuan and work as an aide in this family? the patriarch had no clue, and he certainly didn't know how to even bring up the question. at first, he had hoped that perhaps you and one of his children would be wed but as time passed, it became increasingly obvious you were not interested in them at all, rather you had set your sights on the patriarch himself. him? the widower? the poor man who had only felt the touch of his dead wife? he was very scandalised that the young aide of his house was so open about their attraction to him. however, it seemed nobody in the household was on his side. not even his own flesh and blood. though for all that forwardness, he never expected that you would be so hesitant and shy when you were alone with him. it was endearing how you became more diligent whenever that happened, how you would engross yourself in your work just to pretend he wasn't there with you. the next time he looked up from what he was doing, you were passed out on your desk. he moved over to carry you back to your quarters — it was deep into the night right now anyways, so nobody would see him with you in his arms. he tucked you into bed, leaving as quickly as he came. the glimpse of his own flushed face in the reflection of the window never left his mind the rest of that week.
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DOKGO had agreed to follow his disciple to town only because said disciple was going to throw a tantrum in his courtyard and the older man was not in the mood to deal with the adult child. the master pretended to not be acquainted with his own disciple when the man began to flirt with the women passing by. he walked on and sat down at a vacant bench in front of a teahouse. his troublesome disciple eventually shook off the girls clinging onto him and joined his master at the table, a string of apologies falling out his mouth when he caught sight of the older man's disapproving glare. only when the younger man offered to pay did the old master's hardened expression fall softer — fine, he said with a grunt. the second headache of the day came in the shape of you, a wandering merchant, or so you said. you slipped in to sit next to the master after the disciple had graciously allowed you to. not like the older man could oppose when there weren't any empty seats in the vicinity. while the conversation was lively as you talked with the disciple about your travels, he could only focus solely on the callouses of your palms, something a merchant who says they are not a martial artist shouldn't have. you had noticed his scrutinising gaze, throwing him a quick grin as you continued the chat with his disciple. oh? he could only wonder what that was about. shame that his dull, blockheaded disciple had let that slip past him. the master wonders if he should up the training regime when they get back.
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CHONGYUE was up and early, as he usually does, leading the daily morning exercise with the other operators. the doctor not being there was somewhat expected, but you going missing? that was a first. when the morning exercise was over, he headed up to your room to check on you, finding the door slightly ajar. cautiously, he walked into the dark room, you had a bag of junk near the entry, from the looks of it you were living off cup noodles and soda, again. no wonder you were now curled up in bed all sick. he might have to give you an earful later, but for now, he puts aside your laundry and took out the trash. he goes down to the canteen, ordering some warm chicken porridge and even stopping by the nurse's office to pick up whatever he thinks you might need. this time, you were now somewhat awake. grumbling and muttering complaints under your breath from the disturbance, he helped you sit up. you insisted on feeding yourself, but he would have none of it. you could only comply and open your mouth wide every time he brought the spoon to your lips. you finished the food and even took the medicine obediently, earning praise from the man himself. before he left, he rubbed some medicinal balm on your stomach, layering warm blankets and patted you back to sleep, reciting an abbot's chants as he did so. the nostalgic feeling was comforting. you should thank him when you got better — maybe he might be interested in a popular classic novel from your home country, or should you try your luck with the lacquer pots instead?
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SHAMANE spotted a figure hunched over the running stream near his hut as he was out collecting the fresh water he would need for the day. when they didn't answer his calls, he walked over, not too worried about whether the figure was a dangerous critter or not. the snap of a twig had them spin their head in his direction — that's when he met your eyes. you both stared at the other, sizing each other up. when he decided that you were not a threat, he introduced himself with his signature smile. you did the same, albeit quieter, still a little peeved from seeing a large bearded man in the middle of nowhere. friendly as ever, he kept the conversation going. he talked about himself, he asked about you, and so on and so forth until you finally admitted to him that you had gotten lost in the mountains, also you had twisted your ankles. he pointed to his hut and asked if you wanted to rest in there until you got better, how could you say no? the month when you lived under the same roof as him passed by quickly, and soon enough it was time for you to go back down the mountain. when you both parted ways at the entrance of the village, there was an air of reluctance in saying goodbye. you promised to write to him, maybe even visit him. he only laughed you off, not expecting much to come out of that. though when he received his sister's letter not long after, he thought about taking you with him to his hometown. but ah, isn't visiting each other hometowns a thing expectant newlyweds do? well, he could always pretend he didn't know about these things, couldn't he?
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HIGURUMA was pretty friendly with the tenants renting out the office space next door. all of whom were fresh design school graduates trying to start a business together. you were the one he's grown the most familiar with, the unofficial boss of the company and the one who was single-handedly juggling your own practice along with other administrative duties. he helped you where he could, the doors to his own law office always open to you — even in the wee hours of the night. you would sit cross-legged on the big swivel chair as both of you engrossed yourselves in your respective work with the boxes of takeout splayed all over his table. when it was late enough that you missed the last train, he drove you back to your apartment. and everytime you sat in the passenger seat, he would reach over to pull the seatbelt on for you. you could have done it yourself but how were you supposed to pass up the chance to have him come this close? enough to even catch a whiff of his cologne? the lawyer himself knew that you were capable enough to do something this simple, but he couldn't help but enjoy the way you tried not to look at him as he did this each time. the ride back was quiet and serene, your tired body sank into the plush of his car seats and soon you were knocked out cold. even when you were both already parked outside your residence, you still wouldn't rouse. he clicks the seatbelt off you, even going so far as to push the seat back so you were lying more comfortably. you've done this enough times where he has a blanket to cover you with as he waited for you to wake up. which you would, and feel so ashamed. he thinks about how cute you were babbling out your apologies and thanks, all while scrambling to pull yourself together and out his car. only to repeat this whole song and dance the very next night.
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RYŪ was a bit of a recluse. never really leaving his room unless it was for a really good reason. which was rare, and by rare it was almost never. but a human had to eat, shit and get clean — which was where you came in. as the designated errand runner for the organisation, you were the one that ended up having to take care of that guy's day-to-day needs. you might have hated him at first, with how picky he was with his food, even the brand of his necessities had to be the exact right one. doesn't matter if the stock ran out, you had to go out there and haunt for a place that still has it or else he wouldn't even entertain your presence. the one good thing you had going about you was that you were adaptable, learned things quick and was light on your feet. if things went south, you always had a backup, and a backup for the backup, you get the idea. the man, mayhaps out of the other's insistence, but you liked to think that he had warmed up to you, started to initiate conversations. at some point whenever you brought him his meals, he would make you sit and watch him eat. at first, you didn't know what to talk about, but then you also started bringing your own lunchboxes to eat alongside him, and you talked his ear off about what you made that day. over time, you both fell into a routine and on days when he's kept you a little too long with him, you'd stay over and crash on his couch. and after more time had passed, he's already got some of your clothes together with his in the wardrobe. hell, he even bought a bigger sofa just so you could sleep better whenever you stayed over. give it more time and who knows, you might end up moving in completely, not that this old hack would mind too much.
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tanadrin · 3 months
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Imagine one day a new social trend starts spreading. It’s something unbelievably dumb. Not harmful per de, but truly silly to believe. Let’s say, I dunno, healing crystals start going mainstream. Everybody’s talking about their crystals. It becomes impolite to criticize people who believe in healing crystals. They become a big part of people’s personalities, and people on TV start talking about them, and one day years down the line politicians are debating funding for crystal-based medicine. And through it all you are sitting there going, what the fuck is happening. I thought we were all on the same page on this. You want to get along and be friendly and open minded but you cannot pretend to believe in healing crystals, this is nonsense, and when the topic comes up you refuse to lie about it. This eventually starts to have social consequences—they’re that popular!—but what can you do? You cannot pretend a lump of quartz can cure the flu or whatever. It’s just all so unbearably embarrassing.
I think what the centrist/liberal/center-left reactionary turn driven by culture war stuff feels like. And I think the key emotion is probably cringe. Not hate, not fear, though those emotions may reinforce the turn. I think in a lot of cases people who imagine themselves pretty open minded and flexible have as part of their worldview something they thought was bedrock social consensus—on the level of “healing crystals are silly woo”—so bedrock maybe that it didn’t even need to be a conceptual boundary they actually policed in their minds.
For instance, when she started her anti-trans turn, JK Rowling made a big show of not being really anti trans, just arguing that Some People Had Gone Too Far. She wasn’t a frothing religious reactionary, after all. And I believe that’s probably true! I think Rowling probably did have a mental model of sex and gender with a little bit of give in it—of the “we can humor the odd weirdo” type. But as the discussion of trans rights in the UK got more serious over her lifetime, trans people went from “the odd weirdo” to “a recognized minority,” and eventually this ran against a bedrock belief that on some level men are men and women are women and never the twain shall meet. To act otherwise was just too embarrassing. And she wasn’t going to embarrass herself in the name of political correctness.
Other people whose brains have been eaten by the anti-woke mind virus (as @eightyonekilograms calls it) have something going of the contrarian in them, who enjoys yelling “up yours, woke moralists!” or w/e. Im thinking of ppl like Glenn Greenwald here, or Dave Chapelle, people who seem not to feel alive except when people are mad at them. That’s a separate but interesting dynamic. And there are people like Graham Linehan who become totally unhinged through this process of auto-radicalization, moths drawn ever closer to a particular source of validation within their chosen reactionary subcommunity, until they are truly parodies of themselves. That is also an important dynamic, but it’s one that only takes hold after the initial turn has begun.
I think the role of that feeling of cringe, that refusal to entertain an idea because it is too embarrassing (even if it does actually have a decent body of research behind it, unlike crystals) is important to think about, because I am interested in how to get people over it. I know that feeling has affected my own thinking over my lifetime. I wasn’t raised particularly conservative, but I had to learn not to cringe at a lot of feminist thought before I could appreciate it and learn from it. I explicitly didn’t have that cringe when it came to gay people for whatever reason, so it never entered my mind that it might be a problem. I remember being surprised to learn when I was very young that some boys wanted to marry other boys, but my response was “huh. Go figure.” Because for whatever reason I had not picked up that this was something I was supposed to be grossed out by. A general doctrine of empathy, of trying to understand people on their own terms, can help forestall some of this stuff, but it’s not foolproof in either direction—I don’t want to believe crystals have healing powers if it becomes socially popular to do so, just because it is socially popular to do so! And if they do, I don’t want to not believe they do just because it is socially unpopular!
(Obviously the crystals thing is not a one to one metaphor for the trans thing, so don’t read too much into that. Maybe astrology would have been a better analogy. Also I’m not talking just about people whose reactionary turn is predicated on trans issues—I think this dynamic applies to everything from gay rights to the Tridentine Mass. But trans issues are a handy example bc, as the adage goes, somebody posts once about trans people and they never post anything normal again. I think the classic rapid-onset trans derangement syndrome is closely tied to the fact that gender norms are a really deep element of many people’s social-consensus-based worldview, and so challenged to that worldview are felt as really cringe.)
I’m curious if other people who grew more liberal in their thinking over time had a similar experience of having to overcome what was basically a feeling of embarrassment at certain ideas.
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xxsabitoxx · 1 year
Text
Experience
Kishibe x Fem! Reader
Warnings: large age gap (reader is in her 20s but it’s unspecified) and Kishibe is 50, car sex, hand job, degrading, praising, smoking
A/N: this was meant to be a short 1-1.5k Drabble but it turned into a mini smut instead (my brain is weird so some of y’all may still consider this a Drabble or you may consider it a full fic… idk man) anywho here he is :)
Word count: 2.6k
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“You… you can’t be serious, oneechan.” Denji was staring at you with an udon noodle hanging between his lips. You chuckled at Denji’s constant use of calling you “big sis” — Aki had reprimanded him forever ago about using formalities with you. You had told him senpai was far too much and that calling you oneechan was fine. Still, it made you chuckle that it was the only nickname he ever stuck too with no bribery needed. Aki still used the gum tactic to get Power and Denji to use the correct terms while addressing him.
“I am serious.” The smile never left your face, watching as Denji slurped his noodle the rest of the way. “But why? He’s so old! Hell he’s over half your age! Ain’t he like 50 or something? And you’re like 20-something? I doubt he can even get his dick hard!” You rolled your eyes, laughter bubbling in your chest as Denji’s clear shock at your crush on his mentor. You’d known Kishibe since you joined public safety a few years prior, having worked alongside Aki when it came to training under the man’s brutal regime.
“Oh I doubt that. Kishibe is a man of experience, he probably has over 30 years worth with women.” Denji still couldn’t see how that would appeal to you, if anything he thought it should be a turn off. “That’s 30 years of use. You’ll probably catch a disease.” At that you couldn’t help but snort, putting your cigarette to your lips and inhaling. “Just think about it for a second, Denji. Wouldn't you want a woman that knows what she’s doing? One that would know how to take care of you?”
“I mean yeah, but maybe a woman that’s only a couple years older than me. You’re going after a man that was well into adulthood by the time you were born.” You shook your head, finding it rather funny that Denji was seemingly peeved by this. “That’s real bold coming from you, Denji-kun.” The blonde quirked his eyebrow, eyeing you suspiciously as he went in for yet another helping. “You and your crush on Makima? The fact that she seems to reciprocate your advances? Kinda a similar situation… but mine is legal.”
You shrugged your shoulders, blowing the smoke you had inhaled. “Yah, whatever… go for your creepy old man then.” He stuck his tongue out as you rolled your eyes, a victorious smile still present on your lips. “No really…” he drawled softly “he’s right there.” You froze, head whipping around to the direction Denji had motioned to. Sure enough, Kishibe was sitting at the bar, a glass of whisky in front of him… typical. You turned back to Denji, utterly mortified. “You don’t think he heard us, do you?” The blonde shrugged, a shit eating grin creeping up his face.
“Denji!” You whisper yelled this time, face growing warm. “Huh?” He spoke a little louder than necessary “I don’t think he heard? What’s the big deal anyways? Ain’t you want him to know? So you can like…actually do something about ya crush?” He drawled loudly, enough to draw a few wandering eyes to your table. “N-not the point! Shut up!” You were snuffing out your cigarettes on the underside of the table seconds later, ready to make a quick escape before Kishibe could even notice you there.
The problem being, you knew your old mentor fairly well. It was more than likely that he was already aware of your presence. Not only that but you were nearly positive he’d probably heard you and Denji talking about him. You wouldn’t be able to escape him unless you put a conscious effort into sneaking out of here. Even then, he’d find a way to corner you and ask you what the hell was going on. “Eh, whatever oneechan… at least I have the guts to go for the people I like.” Now you knew you were done for.
If Denji was going to make this a game of confidence, you’d have to do your “big sister” duties and simply one up him. “You’re a pain in my ass.” You scoffed, watching the grin return to the blonde’s face as you pushed your chair out. “You can thank me later.” Was all he said, returning to his udon as you made your way to the bar. “Captain Kishibe.” You fought to keep your voice steady. Kishibe turned to look at you, the usual stoic expression on his face.
“Come to talk to the creepy old man sitting alone at the bar?” He chimed softly, watching your face morph into embarrassment as he confirmed your biggest fear. He heard everything you and Denji had said. “Blame blondey over there for that nickname. Guessing that if you heard what Denji had to say you also heard what I had to say.” Your arms clasped behind your back, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you waited for him to speak.
Kishibe swirled his glass around, watching the amber liquid slosh before he brought it to his lips and downed the rest. “Oh, I did. Not that I’m shocked… you’re far more transparent with your emotions than you think you are, y/n.” You could have melted on the spot, seeped straight into the floorboards and disappeared forever. Instead, you shifted your weight from foot to foot, willing yourself to grow some confidence and test the waters. It didn’t seem he was necessarily shutting you down just yet.
“Well… I guess this was a pretty lame ass way of saying I have a thing for my old mentor.” Kishibe leaned back, eyes shutting briefly as he inhaled through his nose. “You’re just looking for someone to show you a good time. Tell me, have you ever actually enjoyed any of the men you’ve slept with?” His eyes opened and he turned to face you fully now, tapping the wooden top of the bar twice to signal that he was ready to pay his tab. “Truthfully, no.” A breathy chuckle left him, one that sent shivers down your spine.
“I see. I guess that would make it my duty, Hmm? Your old mentor has to show you the ropes… show you the good from the bad. A private lesson, if you would.” You didn’t quite know how to react, your brain working in overdrive to try and process the words he had just spoken. “S-so you’re saying you’ll…” you flinched at your own stutter, watching Kishibe eye you carefully. “That I’ll show you how a man properly satisfies a lady? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying, Sugar.” Your heart jumped at the nickname.
You found it hard to speak, instead you kept your mouth shut and watched your old mentor pay his tab before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair. “I paid for the fool’s meal as well as yours, he’ll get home on his own just fine. Let’s go.” Kishibe was heading towards the door, you waited till he was facing away to shoot Denji a look. The blonde seemed a bit awestruck that you were already leaving with him, you just shrugged as you left. You’d probably have to apologize the next time you saw him.
Before you knew it you were slipping into the passenger side of Kishibe’s car, thanking him softly for opening and closing the door for you. He slipped on the other side a moment later, turning the key so the engine roared to life. “I didn’t think you were the car type.” You commented softly, eyes scanning the amount of gadgets that littered the dashboard. The car’s interior was all black leather, that was at least something you expected from him.
“I’m not but the holiday bonus was nice and I needed an upgrade anyways.” He cracked his window, lighting up a cigarette before pulling out of the restaurant’s small lot and out into the bustling street. You didn’t expect him to be nervous, nor did you expect him to be awkward about the situation. Yet you were practically squirming in your seat, hoping he’d show some sort of nervousness to help you feel less inexperienced.
His cigarette hung half hazardously from his lips, one hand on the wheel while the other came down to rest on your thigh. You nearly choked on your own saliva, heat pooling in your gut at the simple action. “Amuse me, would you? What’s the best thing a guy has done for you, Hmm?” Smoke puffed out around his cigarette, eyes locked on the road as he waited for your response. “Offer to walk me home.” You admitted sheepishly, not quite sure how he’d react to such a lame response. It was true your taste in men hadn’t really benefited you in any way up until now.
He let out a gruff laugh, slowing down as he pulled up to a red light and plucked the cigarette from his lips. “That’s it? Seriously? Where the hell are you finding these bummy men?” You weren’t sure why his clear annoyance affected you the way it did, but you found yourself struggling to not press your thighs together. A small effort to relieve some of the ache, you knew if you moved your legs even a little he’d feel it. Then again, he was driving you back to his apartment to fuck you… would it really matter? “No need to be tense.” He murmured softly, hand squeezing your thigh.
“…’m not tense.” A stupid lie but it made him chuckle so you couldn’t really be mad at it. “Let me help you relax.” The cigarette was back between his lips, hand on the wheel as the light turned green. Kishibe pushed on your thigh, silently asking you to spread them. It took your brain a few seconds to properly respond, spreading them just enough that he could fit his hand between them. “Atta girl…” smoke puffed out around his lips once again, filling your nose in an almost intoxicating way. You were a bit shocked by the praise, nearly letting a whimper slip out.
The man you knew as your mentor was certainly not the same as the man sitting beside you. Then again you doubted he would ever woo the amount of women he did with his mentor attitude. Kishibe’s hand gingerly crept up your thigh before dipping between to cup your panty covered cunt. You mentally thanked yourself for wearing a skirt, giving the man in the driver's seat easy access to where you wanted him the most. He could feel your warmth radiating through the thin material, on top of that he could tell you were already wet.
Kishibe exhaled deeply, forcing himself to remain focused on the road even though he’d really like to look over and gauge your reaction. Truthfully, he had been waiting patiently for quite some time now for you to be the one to make the first move. He wasn’t lying when he said you were transparent with your emotions, but even then he didn’t want to risk creating awkward situations. He was getting old after all, a fifty year old man going for a woman in her twenties would certainly look terrible on his part if the other party didn’t reciprocate.
Maybe he was just a creepy old pervert for thinking that way.
Regardless, it was starting to get hard to ignore the persistent stiffness between his own legs. You’re breathing had hitched, suddenly dizzied by the fact that his hands were already on you. Two fingers pressed against the wetmark on your panties, drawing a sigh from your lips as he rubbed the material softly. “You’re more excited than you let on.” it was an off hand comment, one that had your fingers gripping the door handle to keep yourself grounded. Kishibe’s fingers slid along your slit, settling over your pulsing clit.
“You’ve said no man has ever satisfied you… I take it because he didn’t know where this was…” he pressed down, sending a shock of pleasure through you. Your mouth opened but nothing came out, slowly he began rubbing tentative circles, making sure you keep his fingers on the cloth of your panties. He wouldn’t let you feel his bare fingers just yet. More smoke puffed out, filling the car briefly before being sucked out the window. “I asked you a question, sugar.” you turned to look at him, face warm as his fingers continued to pleasure you. “T-that would be right…”
“Every woman is different, is this good for you?” you knew he was referring to his current action. “Y-yeah but…” you reached for his hand, placing yours over his as you guided him to a faster tempo. Kishibe took the reins again instantly, chuckling softly as you let out a soft moan. “Hmm, that better?” it was low, enough you send shivers through you as your hips jerked into his hand. “Need more…” you couldn’t quite figure out what specifically you needed, you just knew you needed more of him. “I know.” was all he said, fingers working you up continuously as he drove.
Part of you had to wonder if he was even driving you to his apartment at this point. It felt like you were going in circles around the city as he got you off in his front seat. Before you knew it, you felt your orgasm creeping up on you. “S-shit…” you clenched around nothing, the tension in your gut had appeared a lot quicker than usual. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you?” he teased softly, fingers picking up speed ever so slightly. You mumbled out some sort of ‘yes’, gasping softly as the tension continued to build.
Maybe it was the combination of everything, Kishibe, his hand, the fact that he was doing this almost absentmindedly while driving through the city, everything was edging you on. “Then cum for me. Show me how much of a little slut you are. I mean really, you’re going to cum from me rubbing you through your panties. You’ll ruin them.” You whined at his words, the tension building so intensely that you were certain you’d fall apart. “Atta girl…cum for me” encouraged again, rolling to a stop at yet another red light.
He looked over at you know, the sudden motion causing you to turn to look at him. “C’mon… no need to hold back.” he sneered, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. You felt your lower lip tremble, head turning to look back at the road as your orgasm crashed down over you. Breathless gasps escaped your lips, hand shooting down to hold Kishibe’s wrist as he continued to work you through your ogasm. “…ough… enough…” you squeaked, overstimulation taking over as the light turned green.
He only slowed because of the light turning green, hand never retracting from where it was between your legs. “Here we are.” He commented offhand, pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building. You blinked, the throb already returning. “Hope you’re not worn out… I haven’t even gotten to show you a proper good time.” He pulled into a numbered space, shifting into park and plucking the nearly gone cigarette from his lips. You watched him put it out on an ashtray in his cup holder, turning the car off a moment later.
“Well?” You shivered as his hand pulled away, making you want to chase after him. “Y-yeah…I’m not worn out. Hell, after your training it’s hard to ever get worn out these days…captain.” You teased softly, not knowing where the confidence came from. A smile actually tugged at his lips, hand reaching for the door handle and pushing it open. “I’ll remember that, sugar.” For some reason, you felt as if you had just dug your own grave.
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