#even though i didn't address it directly

[ladyluscinia]

Why do some people say Izzy is homophobic? Flippant jokes I get, but there are people claiming this seriously. Yes, he's often very mean towards characters who just so happen to be homosexuals... But what in the world would make anyone conclude he's not a perfectly equal-opportunity mean person?!? Same with the racism accusations. Probably preaching to the choir here... And I personally don't even like Izzy (as a person; as a character he's brilliant), but it still gets annoying.

I mean... if the question is whether or not Izzy Hands can plausibly be interpreted as homophobic, then I think the answer is unambiguously yes.

I don't think it was avoidable with the story they are trying to tell. Homophobia is pretty deeply entangled with expressions of masculinity and how people see gay relationships. Izzy's literal purpose as an antagonist is to be so against the BlackBonnet relationship that he was willing to try and get Stede killed over it. And thematically, to do anything interesting with stuff like embracing self-expression or arguing that open honesty and vulnerability are good for people, someone has to fill the role of objector. In a televised medium especially - where you aren't sitting in Izzy's POV and you definitely can't read his mind - there is going to be a level of interpretation to his motivations and what, exactly, he's finding objectionable, and some people will come to the conclusion that he's a homophobe. 🤷‍♀️

It's a side effect of trying to say something not completely shallow in your writing - you will run up against grey areas and you can't make the audience unanimously stay in the intended track. Multiple plausible interpretations will exist. A character who objects to other masculine characters expressing emotional vulnerability will plausibly be read as homophobic.

It's our job as we watch the show to look at all the plausible interpretations and decide which is the strongest, just like it's the writers' job to make sure their intended interpretation is the one the most audience members settle on. Complete consensus is impossible, so I'm not, like, surprised that some people are sticking to their guns on that one, but I'm still pretty confident Izzy being homophobic will end up the weaker interpretation.

I actually think Izzy being more or less doomed to being plausibly homophobic is what makes the writing for him so good. Because a much easier option, or a weaker writing team, would have gone in on it. Yet another story about homophobes making gays' lives unhappy, only this time the twist is we make the homophobes a punchline. It's way harder and more interesting to pull off an antagonist that hates a gay relationship but is only plausibly homophobic, and there's a perfectly valid and even encouraged read of the show where he's not. That's actually cool (and why I'll be pretty disappointed if it turns out he is just Mr. Internalized Homophobia).

🤔 My more controversial opinion, though, is probably that I think once you get to a certain level of theorizing unconscious / unintended homophobia in fiction then it functionally doesn't exist. That's pretty much what I'm trying to say here. In real life there is some value to recognizing that everyone has some unconscious biases they're probably acting on without realizing, but in a story... if the character / their actions won't be acknowledged or treated as homophobic, or they won't make the leap to homophobia at any point in unpacking or addressing their flaws, and you aren't trying to say anything about the author's personal biases or blindspots coming through? If a tree falls in a fictional universe but nobody writes about it, does it make a sound? Did it even fall?

[faeriekit]

...I had a guy come in today asking about how to get his kids library cards. I told him. He asked me how hard it would be for them to get them, and I said that all it took was their presence and his government ID.

He told me about how nice the system was here, where it was so easy to get a card; he said that there was a beautiful public library in Beijing that was top of the line and everything, but that the only way to access it was if you were a high ranking government official or a top professor or something. Instead, our library "serves the reader." His kids will be able to take chapter books home at no cost. He'll even be able to get books in Chinese here so that his native language skills don't atrophy.

I didn't even really know what to say, so I told him how to ask us to buy books for him that we don't already have so that he can still read them at no extra cost. I don't know how to shore up what it must feel like to know that there are books out there you can't read; I've always grown up with a good library nearby. It reminded me of working in my old library, though, where families who spoke Spanish were startled to find out we took any government ID with a formal address in town— even foreign IDs— so that their kids could get access to all of our titles in all the languages we offered.

Ah. Anyway, I hope you check out a library book with this thought in mind. I checked out the first volume of YJ98 today with that thought in mind. I didn't have to pay anything. I put it on hold, and there it was.

Edit: for those who struggle with reading comprehension; no, this patron interaction is not meant to represent the status of the Chinese public library system at large nor the country of China itself; this was my response to a random Chinese immigrant dad's anecdotal concerns as he expressed them to me, because the whole breadth of concern I'm responsible for while on desk starts and ends at recommending which library services would fulfill his needs. If you think he misunderstood or was lying about the status of public libraries in China, that isn't something I'm charged to verify before writing my thoughts and feelings about the patron interactions I was exposed through throughout my day. Expecting anything else is absurd.

Edit edit: Also, your library may not actually use Libby as the distribution method for their ebook collection. The best way to find out about how to access your library's ebook collection is to call them directly.

[rumisgf]

PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

© rumisgf

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS JKK | DILF!NANAMI KENTO

A/N: It was very strange writing this to the sound of "snowy", sometimes I question my musical choices for inspiration ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

TW: afab anatomy, ftm reader, fluff, soft!dom nanami, hard!dom nanami, gentle sex, rough sex, v!sex, fingering, praise, body worship, age gap, vulnerable!kink, degradation, daddykink, eat out, mild bdsm.

♡ SFW :

He is a man so tired of the life of working and being a wizard at the same time that he just needs a release. You are his younger partner, a few years younger than the forty-year-old man. He was afraid at the beginning of the relationship because he didn't think he was as attractive as men his age, but as time went by he saw how much you loved that he was older than you, there was a charm in every dark circle cold expression on his frown that was too sexy in your eyes.

You'll also have to keep him updated on things that happen in your social circle ── he doesn't really mind but seeing you smile and talk so excitedly about a certain topic also makes him happy and much more relaxed from the daily routine. He doesn't understand half of the slang you and Gojo say when you get together, but he doesn't mind at all (just don't call him 'boomer' Satoru already does that a lot and it gets on the blonde's nerves.)

He likes to be greeted by you when he gets home. It may be a simple gesture but it fills your chest with a warm and fulfilling feeling as he kisses you on the top of your head, smelling you while an almost invisible smile appears on his tired face. "Did you behave while I was gone baby?" Nanami spoke with a hoarse and low voice, listening attentively to you about your day while smiling when he saw that at least his daily effort was worth it because it could give you a more tolerable and comfortable life. Even though he was tired, he would help you with dinner, lightly rambling about how tiring his day was and what you could do at the weekend.

If you mention that you saw something you liked in a store, Nanami will immediately write down the address and go buy what you want ── even if he works extra hours to pay all the installments, your smile is more important to him. "All for my boy right?" He would speak in a calming voice to your nerves, while his fingers tilted on your shoulder as a gesture of tender affection coming from the older man.

♡ NSFW :

The first few times you two fuck he will be a gentleman to you ── calling you "my sweet", "pretty little thing", "darling", "prince", "pretty boy"; talking about how your moans are the most beautiful thing he has heard. "Keep moaning boy... I want to hear everything from you." "What a beautiful voice you have, moan my name darling and let me hear more, say my name when you cum ok?" These would be some of the several phrases that Nanami would say while inserting two thick fingers into your swollen and wet pussy from the exaggerated stimulation he would do to your body.

He likes to eat out you, seeing you tremble and suffocate him between your soft thighs makes the blonde's cock practically cum without even entering you. He sucks your clit running his tongue in circles while his calloused hands keep your legs wide open for his warm ministrations ── Kento will whisper praises against your pussy making you shiver with each vibration welcome to your sensitive flesh. The blonde finds it cute the way you rub your hips desperately against his lips, making him place kisses on your abdomen and connect your lips, separating the kiss seconds later and looking directly into your eyes, watery with pleasure.

"Looks like you're in a hurry boy... Come on, come and ride my face, don't worry about your weight I can really handle it." Nanami moaned as he watched you obey his request and sat gently on his face ── your sweet smell and wet juices, the sound of your voice begging him 'not to stop' was like heaven to him. Nanami just wanted to make you ready for his cock.

When you reach your second orgasm of the night ─ crying and turning into a beautiful, stimulated mess for him, Nanami will finally shove his cock in your little pussy, moaning hoarsely and privately in your ear. "You can handle this, can't you little boy? You're going to cum on my dick again." Kento would groan, hands resting on the sides of your head on the mattress as he looked directly at every reaction you gave him ── from your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips, to the sight of your open mouth salivating and smearing your sheets, until your wet hole sucking his cock back into your throbbing heat. "Desperate to get fucked but too shy to do anything about it... my pretty little angel can't do anything but blush. Do you love my cock in you so much?" He smiled, as he accelerated his movements, intertwining your hand with his, feeling his balls hit your ass, making a slow, lazy wet noise.

However, if you want him to be rude and take out all the anger and stress on your body, Kento will do it with all the strength he has suppressed for years. Tying you with his tie and gagging your mouth with your own underwear ── you are not allowed to speak or ask for anything, at that moment you are his personal toy.

You saw Nanami's veins stand out from his forehead, neck and arms as he approached the edge of the bed, roughly opening your thighs ── your once gentle and sweet boyfriend gave way to a sadistic and cold dominator. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw your little fucked face just looking at him ── dazed and shaking, your pussy milking the air as he slapped your thigh hard, going to squeeze your breasts as you moaned against the fabric and tasted it of your own humidity. "That's what you get for being such a good boy." His voice was serious, as you watched him take the panties out of your mouth and take his cock out of his pants.

Kento would also have vulnerable!kink, meaning you will be totally naked while he will be clothed yet just taking his member out of his clothes and fucking you ── completely trapped by the weight of his body, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he pounds into your cunt, treating you like a personal cum dump. He would be rude and say the most vulgar things you had ever heard from anyone, the gentleman in him was gone with every thrust he made on your body. "You're nothing more than a pathetic cum dumpster," he hissed, his voice filled with biting contempt. "Do you like being degraded, my obedient whore?" he taunted, a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

He would fuck you to the point where you couldn't feel your legs anymore. With final painful strokes he breeds your pussy as he watches you cry his name. "shh... I got you boy, you were a good boy for daddy ok?" He spoke, returning to normal, holding your trembling body. After the rough treatment, you will be looked after like a prince by him ─ he will clean your body by giving you hot kisses on your face and offering you water. Kento would take you to the bathroom and clean up the traces of sex, while stroking your hair. "Sleep now, honey, I'll be here when you wake up." You knew he would be there like he promised.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[obsessedwrhys]

hi baby, you can make an hcs of the characters from The Boys with a Harley Quinn! readers?? With all characters including Soldier Boy

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ THE BOYS X HARLEY QUINN!READER

ᯓ★ looots of goofy shit, dark humour, gore, sensitive topics (abuse, toxic relationships, etc), toxicity, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★ Characters included (I couldn't do everyone so I just did these guys, I know yer kind missy 👴): Homelander, Black Noir (Old and New), Butcher, Soldier Boy

HOMELANDER

He's honestly so fed up with you.

Sure he loves watching you mess with people but he does not like it when YOU DO IT TO HIM!!!

"Quinn!" He'd shout for your name and you'd open the door to see him standing outside your room. You laugh when you see him covered in ketchup. One of your many pranks.

"What?? You needed the upgrade for the suit cupcake" You smiled all innocently.

That being said you LOVE pulling pranks on him.

Whether if it's putting hair dye in his shampoo or stealing his suit so he wakes up searching for it.

It's just your favourite thing to do.

There have been times he's tried to kill you due to his rage but it takes every cell in his body to stop himself because he knows that he's not able to do that.

Because why? Because he thinks you don't even deserve to be killed by him directly.

You disgust him that much.

He just wishes that you weren't such a pain in his ass.

If the pranks weren't bad enough that it had him double checking every item he uses, AKA worsening his trust issues. You've also came up with nicknames to mock his superhero status.

"If it ain't the flying dick!" You'd address his entrance to everybody the moment he walked in the meeting room.

Just imagine him suddenly stop and standing at the door like 🧍‍♂️

If you wanna know more nicknames, we've got captain narcissist, america's buttplug and sperm cell.

Trust you are never sent on safely planned missions, only the ones he knows are highly dangerous in hopes of you dying...

There was this one time he sent you on a suicide mission and he was all proud of himself, but just as he thought he finally got rid of you, the elevator door slides open to reveal you, some fabrics of your clothes were ripped and there were bruises all over your body but it didn't seem to bother you.

"What's up toots?" You'd smile even though your nose was bleeding. That's when he looked down to see the head of the guy he asked for you to assassinate.

Who also happened to be one of the most protected men in the nations by the way.

Like how the fuck did you do it?

You're not even an ACTUAL supe!!

Regardless, he has his respects for you but really why WONT YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE.

PLEASE STOP FLIRTING WITH HIM SO CASUALLY ITS WEIRD??!???!?

ALSO DONT PINCH HIS BUTT!!!

You once did that during a meeting and the sight of him yelping as his body jumps was unforgettable!!

You're JUST like a bee addicted to its pollen. P.S, he's the pollen.

BLACK NOIR (OLD)

He.. doesn't... understand you??

Why do you enjoy showering him with love??

You say it's in your nature but why do you always ask to be carried around the tower??

And why does he obliges each time??

Apparently how your mindset works is that you find extremely deadly things to be adorable.

In this case, he's the extremely deadly thing.

With his silent nature, you just NEEDED to get a reaction out of him.

You tried tickling him or making him sneeze but he always just stares at you in confusion.

You can't see his face but you can tell he's giving you the "What are you doing?" Face.

That's when your bright ass thought of a plan.

A dumb and reckless idea... but hey! You have suicidal tendencies so this is fine!

You'd put yourself in danger on purpose just for him to always come rescuing you. He has lost many body parts when doing so but you could care less, you would give him those heart eyes as he carried you back to Vought in bridal style...

Just for the managers to lock you up in a small prison cell to prevent you from pulling more of these stunts.

Though they were never enough to hold you back.

Naturally there would be rumours in the industry if you two were dating and you never hesitate to push those rumours even more.

Imagine for a premiere for your movie, you'd walk on the red carpet in a dress with Noir beside you, still in his signature suit.

"You're looking real good tonight, handsome. I'm liking what I see" You'd say with your arm wrapped around his. He looks at you as you winked at him seductively.

Someone save this poor boy from your endless flirting.

Jokes aside, there has been times he's seen you in your lowest, like that time you trashed your room with your makeup melted from your tears.

Apparently you got rejected from a movie role you wanted to get so badly. Which was Mario but stupid Chris fucking Pratt got it instead.

Seeing the state you were in, he'd grab you by the shoulders firmly and make you sit down, then putting a blanket around you. He'd leave the room for a couple of minutes... to come back with a bucket of ice cream for you to happily snack on as you rest your head on his shoulder.

BLACK NOIR (NEW)

"EW!! Get this mo'fuckin' bastard away from me!" Literally your words when you heard about the replacement.

Is a bit hurt by your disgust towards him??

But that just means he knows what he's doing right or wrong with this new role.

No because seriously everything he does, he would stop to watch for your reaction, most of the time you are never impressed.

Like how he killed those homelander fans to frame the starlighters. He'd hold the bat, his mask all bloody as he turned to see you, arms crossed, no reaction to his performance.

UNTIL at the end of season 4 where he began killing people within the company, that was what got you to start growing interest in his character.

Even though you're fine with him, for now, you really don't like it when he pushes things.

As in trying too hard to replace the old Black Noir. You just don't fw it 😡

"Hey! Hey! Harley wait up!" He'd call out for you while you ignored him and decided to speed walk away. Anyways, he manages to catch up with you.

"The team wants us to attend the premiere of your next movie together.. since.... y'know... we're rumoured to be dating??" He said and you had to stop walking to put your entire energy into giving him the most NASTIEST look. The second he sees you take a deep breath, he knew it was over.

"I ain't yer GODDAMN babysitter, and don't you think that for a second that wearin' the suit makes you my damn boyfriend, alright? I ain't here to hold yer hand and coddle you. I got better things to do than listen to yer constant whining and need for attention. So knock it off, ya copy-cat!" You'd point at him before walking off, hand on your hip.

You can bet that he asks Deep for advices on how to win your heart.

BRO IS TOO INVESTED IN HIS CHARACTER 😭

That's why he thinks making you fall for him is one of Noir's characteristics.

You love mysterious and threatening looking people? Okay gotcha.

You want hyenas for pets? Cha-Ching! Got it!

But seriously someone please tell him to stop before he gets his ass beat. He does not want that Brooklyn smoke.

BILLY BUTCHER

Ah great another crazy chick.

The only possibility to why you'd be apart of the boys is if someone vouched for you.

50/50 it's either Hughie or Frenchie.

Though surprisingly enough, you were the first to notice the symptoms of his virus. Like he could be fidgeting at the office and you'd point it out so casually that everybody turns to look at you in confusion.

Everybody thought you were crazy at first, it's to be expected, but the second his virus was confirmed to be lethal. Everybody has started to take you a bit more seriously.

Read carefully. A bit.

He finds your weapons fascinating though. Like how your gun has words engraved in it, your initials being the biggest. Not to mention the designs being the inspiration of poker cards.

"That must make you the clown" He once said when you whipped it out to shoot someone. You smile mischievously at his remark.

"Oh you'd better watch your tongue before I make you the punchline of my next joke!"

He likes you.

ONLY if you don't fuck anything up.

Sure you guys do argue a lot but theres also strange moments of understanding between you two.

There was this one time he found you alone in the office, your legs placed on the table and you were literally downing a bottle of alcohol. It was when he came closer that he noticed the bruises on your body.

"What the hell happened to you?" He said and you sniffed as you quickly wipe away the tears in your eyes.

"Oh, I'm just peachy, tough guy... Can't you see I'm having a little cry-fest over here after a lover's spat with my oh-so-darling ex-boyfriend. Yeah, he just looooves to use me as his personal punchin' bag, y'know? But don't worry 'bout me. I'll be back to my ol' crazy self in no time. Just need a minute to let the tears dry and the bruises heal"

For the rest of the night he'd stay to talk about how shitty both your lives are. You guys actually BOND over your past traumas.

The booze just making the conversation ever more fun.

Will go out of his way to take you to places for shopping or eating at a restaurant to make you feel better.

After understanding you better, he realised you're just a once normal person who became a psychotic sociopath after whatever the supes did to wrong you.

He may not show it to you but he really cares about you and would not hesitate to protect you despite how much he says he wish you'd just fuck off.

SOLDIER BOY

You have to be some kind of masochist right??

He says the most disrespectful shit to you and you just squeal in excitement from it.

It's starting to weird him out.

Everything he does or say, you love to mock him, like he could be giving orders and you'd be at the back using your hands to mimic his talking like a puppet as you mouthed along and made faces.

But he has to say, he finds your insanity amusing. Because deep down, he sees a tiny bit of himself in you.

He calls you Looney Tunes. Why exactly? Nobody knows its for his own entertainment.

He's into older women but that doesn't stop you from flirting with him. He finds your efforts interesting.

"You're a tough nut to crack, Soldier Boy, but I'll get you to crack a smile eventually" You'd say and it'll be enough to have him grinning at you.

"You gonna tickle me?" He'd say, returning the same energy.

But that doesn't mean he's interested in you, he's just toying with you.

AND YOU KNOW IT. But apparently red flags just look like a go flag to you 🤷‍♀️

Despite that, if any other guy did the things he did to you, he would be fast to knock out the fucker. That's because he knows you value loyalty and he does too.

Everything aside, he really appreciates it when at the end where everybody turned against him you stayed by his side. Just imagine him driving the car while you're in the passenger seat singing your heart out to Cherry Bomb by The Runaways.

He'd simply shake his head with a smile on his face.

But the more relationship develops, he'd actually start to show you his softer side. Not soft side. Soft-er side.

Will literally lecture you into standing up more for yourself and stop being a doormat for every man in your life.

How ironic huh?

"You might act all tough and macho, but I see that big, marshmallow heart under there, sweetheart" You'd boop him on the nose that has him rolling his eyes with a smirk.

"You already said that. Are you a broken record or just dim?" He said.

If you stay obedient and don't push the wrong buttons, he might just keep you around.

[copperbadge]

The thing about pain, that I never really knew until this happened to me in my thirties, is that if you are in bad enough pain or for a long enough time (and that's in weeks, not months or years) it can give you depression. Even if your quality of life isn't otherwise impacted -- if it doesn't impede your mobility or exhaust you so that you can't go out -- even if it's "just" pain, being in pain is depressing. And the thing about both pain and depression is that independent of one another, when you are in either one of them you tend to make poor choices. You aren't able to pay full attention to the decision and depression impedes your ability to envision your future, effectively making you feel as if there are no consequences or rewards for your actions.

Now, the nice thing about being a little older and having gone through stuff like serious physical injury, particularly a brain injury, is that it's a lot easier to recognize when you've begun to make poor decisions, and put a stop to it before you make some really poor ones. You can't necessarily just tell yourself "hey stop doing that" but you can readjust your risk assessment and also stop trying to make as many.

Like, you catch yourself walking in front of a car that probably can't see you at a dangerous intersection, and for the rest of the day you make sure you don't cross against the light even if you think you could probably make it. You take the ramp instead of the stairs. You move more slowly. You don't buy anything. You walk away when you might normally pick a fight.

I'm fine -- I injured my foot last night so walking is very painful today, but the wound isn't see-a-doctor serious and I'm getting around okay. I did have to come in to the office for a meeting, which necessitates walking, catching and boarding a bus, and navigating a downtown street that's still pretty busy even at seven in the morning. And I did catch myself walking in front of a car coming out of a driveway because I wasn't watching the driveway as I normally do, because I was in pain. So, for the rest of the trip, I moved as slowly as necessary, stopped at crosswalks if I didn't have a clear walk signal (ie, no flashing red hands), and kept my eyes on the ground. In the office today I'm going to stay quiet and I've made a mental note not to speak in the meeting unless directly addressed. I might catch a cab home, though that has its own perils and the bus is arguably more safe given my muscle memory of public transit. And that's just because I made one bad call after being in pain for like, twelve hours. But I know me, so, a couple of days of caution it is.

Anyway the only real point of the post is to let people know, because nobody told me, that if you're in longterm or serious pain, a) it can materially impact your mental health, and b) you should move a little slowly and not make any serious decisions if you can avoid it.

[pin-k-ink]

(STEP)BROTHER KNOWS BEST ★ MIYA OSAMU & MIYA ATSUMU

DAY THREE ➵ with a new boyfriend every week, your stepbrothers are done watching you cycle through losers. now they’re hell-bent on showing you that the only guys you need are right under your nose. but as they pull you closer, you can’t help but feel there’s more to their plan than brotherly concern.

cw ➵ stepcést, obséssive behavior, gróping, making out, nípple play, blówjob, face fućking, fingéring, squírting, hanďjob, unprotected séx, dirty talking, manhándling, double penetration (same hole), cunnilíngus, clít slápping, praise kínk

wc ➵ 11.9k

kinktober masterlist

The last rays of golden sunlight slanted through the large front windows as Atsumu strolled up to Onigiri Miya. He squinted slightly against the glare, lips quirking up at the familiar sight of his twin methodically wiping down the spotless counters. Even after all these years, Osamu's meticulous habits never changed.

Atsumu rapped his knuckles against the glass door, grinning wider when Osamu's head whipped up in surprise. With a small shake of his head, Osamu flipped the sign to 'Closed' before turning to unlock the entrance. Atsumu didn't wait for any further invitation, slipping inside with the jingle of the overhead bell.

"'Tsumu," Osamu greeted, eyes slightly narrowed as he took in his brother's expectant expression. "To what do I owe this unannounced visit?"

Rather than answering directly, Atsumu let his gaze wander around the empty restaurant in an obvious searching sweep. "Y/N's not down here?"

Osamu sighed, hanging the sanitizing rag on its designated hook. Leave it to his twin to show up unannounced clearly angling to see their stepsister whom he'd been harassing Osamu about for weeks now. Trust Atsumu's one-track mind.

"She's upstairs," he admitted, already turning to lead the way towards the back stairwell. "Probably gettin' ready for another one of her dates."

The way Osamu sneered the last word wasn't lost on Atsumu. His own jaw tensed infinitesimally before he forced his expression back to nonchalance as he followed his twin's ascending footsteps. Though he could certainly relate to Osamu's ill-disguised vexation over your active social - and romantic - calendar as of late.

The closer they drew to the apartment door, the more Atsumu could smell the telltale fruity wafts of your favorite body mist - like a tantalizing, intangible siren's call pulling him onward. His throat went a touch too dry just imagining your sweet curves all dolled up and temptingly on display yet again. Despite his best efforts over the years, Atsumu had never been able to view you as just his little sister.

Not when every flutter of your dark lashes or absent twist of your hair could zap him right back to those wet dreams that used to leave him panting and covered in sticky shame.

The apartment door swung open to reveal the hallway dimly aglow in the buttery evening light. Atsumu followed Osamu inside, senses prickling as the ambrosial sweetness of your scent surrounded him from all sides now.

"Y/N? Hey, sis, where you at?" Osamu called out in that gruff yet soothing timbre of his.

A few beats of silence followed before your familiar wind-chime voice sang out in innocent reply, "In my room, 'Samu! You can come in."

The throaty, guileless warmth of your address hung like a caress in the air. Atsumu cut Osamu a loaded look, the dimple in his twin's cheek twitching in silent acknowledgment of the mutinous direction both their thoughts had undoubtedly strayed. Twins through and through, even now...

Clearing his throat, Osamu knocked perfunctorily before cracking open your bedroom door and leading the way inside. "We've got company for ya' tonight, bab—"

His graveled words cut off in a stunned rumble. Atsumu nearly walked right into Osamu's back, frozen beside his equally stupefied twin as they both took in the vision presented.

There you were in all your effortless glory, perched in the center of your bed with those shapely legs folded beneath you in a way that should be illegal. Loose tendrils of hair spilled over one bare shoulder, tumbling halfway down the swell of your breasts where they strained against the gauzy negligee. Its delicate lace neckline plunged in a tantalizing vee between the soft, pillowy mounds in a way that had both brothers' eyes riveted.

The ethereal glow of scattered fairy lights flickered across your features as you blinked up at them with those wide, doe-like eyes framed by devastatingly thick lashes. One fingertip was trapped between guileless teeth, lips parting on what might've been a shy greeting cut off before it began.

For an endless, electrically charged moment, the only sound in the room was the thunderous pounding of three sets of hearts in sync. You glanced between your stepsiblings in bewildered contrition, clearly mistaking their stunned silence for displeasure at your state of careless undress.

"Oh! You two startled me," you breathed out in that melting honey-syrup voice, shattering the trance. One dainty hand instinctively tugged at the sheer negligee, futilely attempting to preserve your modesty - an effort that only served to emphasized your lush curves all the more.

Osamu made a strangled noise low in his throat as his eyes followed the motion helplessly. Atsumu swallowed so hard his prominent adam's apple bobbed, struggling not to burn holes through the flimsy scrap of fabric with his stare.

It was you, ever the blithe, oblivious angel, who finally eased the taut tension with an effortless giggle and widening of those luminous eyes.

"I didn't think you'd be stopping by so soon, 'Tsumu! You should've told me you were coming over..." The words drifted from your lips in a breathless lilt as you glanced up at him through a fuzzy fan of mascara-laden lashes.

Atsumu felt his throat constrict at the picture you made - barely clothed in that sheer, scandalizing negligee, limbs arranged in that boneless, artfully tousled way that always drove him quietly mad with yearning. He drank in every minute detail like a man dying of thirst, from the tantalizing swell of your breasts straining against delicate lace to those plump lips you unconsciously worried between your teeth.

"You should've told me you were coming over..." you continued in that featherlight, velvety tone that conjured images of bedsheets and moonlight and slick flesh sliding against slick flesh—

Atsumu's nails dug harshly into his palms as a strangled noise lodged in his constricted airway. He couldn't tear his gaze away, utterly transfixed as your worried lower lip slipped free in a glistening pout.

"So I could've gotten properly dressed, that is."

The teasing trail of your words dropped into loaded silence, tension thickening with each passing heartbeat. Out of his peripheral vision, Atsumu watched Osamu's prominent adam's apple work furiously as he fought for composure. They both knew damn well you hadn't meant the seemingly innocuous remark as any kind of calculated flirtation - that was just your perpetually artless, wide-eyed way.

Still, something primal and undeniably ravenous roared to life in the pit of Atsumu's abdomen at your oblique suggestion of undressing...or remaining in that diaphanous state of undress just for the two of them. His blood turned to searing lava in his veins as his starved gaze traced the delicious bow of your kiss-swollen lips once more.

Beside him, Osamu cleared his throat in a transparent attempt to wrestle back control of the situation, the gravelly rumble shockingly loud in the electrically charged bedroom.

"Nah, don't mind us, sis," he managed in a strained timbre that couldn't quite conceal the hunger simmering beneath its outwardly nonchalant delivery. "We just swung by for a quick visit before Atsumu goes outta town for a few days."

Your features melted into an adorably crestfallen pout that had Atsumu physically aching to close the distance and soothe it away with his mouth, his hands, every inch of himself.

"Aww, you're leaving?" You swung those devastatingly long, ebony lashes up at Atsumu in such an overtly innocent yet molten look that he almost whimpered aloud. "I was hoping we could all spend some time together since it's been so long!"

Osamu made a choked noise of strained agreement as your form uncoiled from the bed in one sinuous, hypnotic movement. The filmy negligee fluttered and clung like a second, teasing veil with each swish of your hips as you padded towards them.

Atsumu's gaze was immediately, helplessly riveted to the gentle swaying of your breasts with each step, the dusky outline of your pebbled nipples teleporting visible through the sheer lace. He could scarcely swallow past the sandpaper thickness clogging his airway.

"Well, I guess that'll have to wait until next time," you murmured, rolling up onto your bare tiptoes to drape those soft, addictive curves against Atsumu's front.

He instinctively froze even as every fired nerve-ending screamed to wrap himself around your pliant form like the the possessive letch he was rapidly becoming. Your clean, feminine scent - all dewy wildflowers and sweet meadow grasses and rich summer soil - swamped his senses until he felt drunk and delirious with longing.

Somehow, Atsumu managed a shaky nod of acknowledgment, unable to dislodge the gravelly words clogging his throat. Thankfully, you seemed to lapse into blissful obliviousness once more as you pulled back, all bright smiles and ingenuous cheer.

"Well! I better go finish getting ready for my date tonight," you proclaimed with a cheery lilt. "I'll come out so you both can see the full look before I head out, kay?"

Atsumu blinked slowly as your lilting declaration finally filtered through the lusty fog swamping his consciousness. A muscle jumped in his tightly clenched jaw as the full meaning sank in - you were primping up to parade that sweet, tempting body around for some unworthy prick's consumption.

Beside him, Osamu remained rigidly still save for the vein pulsing treacherously at his temple, a sure sign of the barely leashed tension within. Atsumu darted a sidelong look at his twin, catching the fleeting, almost plaintive tightening around Osamu's eyes before it shuttered behind stony impassivity once more.

You seemed to take their loaded silence as assent, already slipping back towards the closet with an airy, "Ooh this is gonna look so cute, just you wait!"

Without conscious thought, Atsumu's hand shot out faster than a snake's strike to clamp around your delicate wrist, pulse jackrabbiting beneath his calloused fingers. The full-bodied flinch you tried and failed to smother tore through him like a serrated blade even as his hold refused to slacken.

"Wait." The single growled syllable hung in the air, pregnant with unvoiced yearning and that perilous undercurrent that you'd been so expertly ignoring for years now.

You glanced up at him with wide, impossibly lush lashes blinking in that infuriatingly artless way that sucker-punched both twins on a daily basis. "Yes?" The simple query was a breathy exhalation of warm, sweetly floral air ghosting across Atsumu's lips from scant inches away.

He swallowed hard, grip tightening fractionally as if seeking purchase in this delicate moment teetering between platonic innocence and forbidden yearnings. "This...date look," he all but growled, fighting to keep his voice measured yet strained with the effort. "Let's see whatcha got planned to wear first. Before you...get all finished up."

Your lovely features rearranged themselves into a small, winsome smile that gutted Atsumu to his core with its unvarnished charm. "You wanna preview?" you asked with mirthful surprise lacing your tone. "Well...I guess I could give my two favorite guys a sneak peek. If you insist!"

With that blithely teasing assent, you spun lightly on one heel to resume your path towards the closet, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the twin looks of heated hunger tracking your every swaying movement. A few beats of tense silence ensued, broken only by muffled rustlings and the harsh, shallow breaths both brothers fought to control.

The soft clearing of your throat finally pulled Atsumu from his lust-addled trance. "Okay," you sing-songed from somewhere within the closet's dimness, "promise not to laugh, 'k??"

Before either twin could formulate a response, you emerged with a series of coy, playful footstep tapping out a cadence that seized both men by their very roots. There you stood bathed in the candlelight's honeyed glow, coquettishly posed as if awaiting judgment from some superficial fashion panel.

Atsumu barely registered your hopeful expression as his stunned gaze drank in the scrap of flimsy fabric you wore like a taunting second skin. Satin and lace that hugged every lush, tempting curve in a way outlawed in several sovereign nations. The plunging neckline plunged criminally low, simultaneously displaying a salacious expanse of soft décolletage and emphasizing the gravity-defying swell of your breasts to dizzying effect.

A hundred lascivious scenarios blossomed behind Atsumu's glazed stare without permission. He envisioned how easy it would be to trail blazing, open-mouthed kisses down that tantalizing display of flushed cleavage, to let his seeking fingers cup and knead while staking his claim in lurid imprints of teeth and tongue.

The sharp intake of Osamu's breath beside him finally punctured Atsumu's trance, realizing all at once that his twin's blown pupils were similarly riveted to the same obscene vista of your body's hypnotic geography barely contained by scraps of scintillating fabric.

You shifted almost imperceptibly from one foot to the other, that simple adjustment making the silky material shimmer and cling even more lasciviously to trembling strips of bare thigh and the shadowed vee between. A small, bewildered pout graced your kiss-reddened lips as your glanced between the two of them uncertainly.

"You guys...don't like it?" The tiniest hurt lilt in your breathy address punctured straight through Atsumu's thundering heart. He couldn't bear that wounded look, not when you'd slipped on that salaciously sinful outfit precisely to entice and enchant the depraved bastard you were heading out to meet tonight.

The mere thought of some drunken asshole leering over and pawing your sweet curves in those scraps of indecent fabric flooded Atsumu's mouth with the acrid taste of possession and fury.

"We like it," he all but growled without thinking, voice gone low and rough with naked yearning. "We like it a little too fuckin' much if ya ask me..."

The loaded weight of Atsumu's hoarse admission seemed to detonate in the electrically charged space. Osamu sucked in a sharp inhale beside him, but remained tense and coiled like an unsprung trap.

You blinked those devastatingly innocent doe eyes, clearly missing the undercurrent thrumming through your stepbrothers' every fraught syllable and micro-movement. Your lovely features rearranged themselves into a brilliantly relieved smile that sent a visceral pang lancing through Atsumu's gut.

"I'm so glad!" you exclaimed in that melted honey voice, doe eyes sparking as you did an artless little spin.

The gauzy micro-dress swirled up in a tantalizing vortex, granting them both a molten glimpse of thighs and the lacy ribbons of your garter belt before resettling in obscene folds. You radiated the picture of youthful obliviousness - here was a stunning, sweetly curved delicacy utterly ignorant of her own potent allure.

It was enough to drive twin red-blooded males slowly insane with starvation-edged hunger.

Osamu cleared his throat with a gravelly rumble, somehow locating words through sheer force of will. "Uh...babygirl? Ya' really think that's such a good idea? Wearin' somethin' like..." he trailed off with a vague gesture that encompassed your scantily-clad form, "...that out in public tonight?"

You canted your head in that precious way, lower lip jutting out in a tiny pout. "What d'you mean? It's not that bad, right? Ken said he loves when I dress up all pretty like this!"

The unspoken implication that "Ken" was looking forward to peeling you out of those shreds of shimmering sin sent a pulse of molten rage roaring through Atsumu's veins. He instinctively stepped closer, hands clenching into white-knuckled fists at his sides to restrain the overwhelming urge to gather you up and spirit you away where no other sets of eyes could devour your sweetly curved sway.

"Yeah, well Ken sounds like a fuckin' asshole who can't be trusted," he bit out through gritted teeth. He refused to watch placidly as another in your string of disappointing bathroom-door-boyfriends used and discarded you after getting his greedy fill.

As if reading his turbulent thoughts, Osamu sidled up with liquid grace to flank your other side, effectively boxing you in with their larger bodies. "Baby, I know ya' like to look nice for the loser flavor of the week," he rumbled in that low timbre Atsumu knew burrowed straight between your thighs. "But dontcha think this is goin' a lil' too far? We're just lookin' out for ya' here..."

You rolled those sinfully lush eyes with the ghost of a smirk, not even seeming to register how the two of them were subtly coiled like restraints. "You guys don't have to worry about me sooo much! I can totally handle myself on a little date night," you chided with playful lightness. "Ken knows I don't put out on the first few dates. That's for sure!"

The petite emphasis on the last phrase shattered Atsumu's carefully maintained control. He surged forward with a savage snarl ripping up from his chest before Osamu could even blink, relentless palms slamming into the doorframe on either side of your head. Your startled gasp filled his senses like ambrosia, lips parting enticingly mere inches away.

"How many other assholes you plannin' on stringin' along for 'a few dates,' huh baby?" he growled, glaring down into those crystalline pools of bewildered innocence. Atsumu lowered his gaze meaningfully to the taut stretch of deep plum lace barely preserving your decency, watching in sadistic satisfaction as the delicate tip of your throat bobbed convulsively.

"I saw the panty drawer you keep tuckin' away all those crappy leftovers from your other shitty boyfriends - thongs, garters, fuckin' CROTCHLESS shit..." Atsumu bit off each crude word with relish, drinking in the delicious spill of carmine flooding those angelic cheeks.

"'Tsumu..." Osamu's warning rasp barely registered over the pounding rush of blood in Atsumu's ears.

He leaned in fractionally closer, letting his lower abdomen just graze yours with featherlight suggestion. Your eyes blew wider than saucers, lips trembling on a residual gasp that could have been either dismay or want. Atsumu couldn't tell which and found he didn't fucking care - his whole world had narrowed to the tantalizing flare of your nostrils and the pulse visibly thundering beneath your swan's throat.

"Get it through your sweet lil' head," he rumbled in that graveled bedroom purr he knew stopped your breath. "Ain't no man on this green earth gonna be tastin' and touchin' you the way 'Samu and I have dreamed of for years now, princess..."

The heavy silence that blanketed the room was near suffocating in its density. Osamu could taste the ripe undercurrents of yearning and forbidden hunger on his tongue like a fleeting phantasm. His gaze remained locked onto you - the living, breathing embodiment of sweet temptation barely contained in that scrap of indecent satin.

He drank in every minute detail with meticulous precision honed over years of coveting you from afar. The delicate bow of your lips, slightly parted around shallow pants that made your chest swell enticingly with each inhale. The feathery wisps of hair escaping your tousled updo to trail across one flushed cheek. Each and every curve clung to by gossamer fabric that somehow only amplified the raw allure and natural sensuality you exuded without even trying.

A muscle ticked in Osamu's rigid jaw as Atsumu shifted infinitesimally closer behind you, radiating smoldering covetousness. His palms drifted up from their perch at your waist, flexing possessively against the soft give of your ribcage in a way that made Osamu's chest constrict.

You shivered bodily at the undisguised intimacy of the caress, plump lower lip getting worried fetchingly between your teeth. Osamu's focus immediately zeroed in on the subconscious invitation of the act, recalling with perfect clarity the myriad times he'd lain awake fantasizing about capturing that lush pout between his own and tasting your quiet need for himself...

Atsumu's smug rumble shattered the ripe moment as he leaned in to nuzzle that sharp jaw against the elegant arch of your throat. The sheer sin of the gesture - of so blatantly scenting and marking his claim upon you - caused a visceral flare of heated possession to spike through Osamu's veins.

"Keep tellin' yourself this latest loser-in-a-long-line is somethin' special if ya' want, babygirl," Atsumu growled in that low rasp that Osamu knew curled straight between your thighs with blistering accuracy. "But I got a thousand yen says that dickhead's already picturin' his bare dick rubbin' between these sweet tits while you're all dolled up for him..."

Twin roses of feverish color blossomed across your cheekbones at the vulgar words, one of Atsumu's broad palms cupping your breast in a leisurely caress - as if its weight and fullness belonged cradled against his calloused fingers. You trembled like a newborn faun from the blatant possession.

But even as Osamu's gaze drank in the ripe exhibition of Atsumu's crude veneration, a new resolve steeled behind his ribs. He couldn't allow his twin to monopolize your focus and reactions, couldn't bear the thought of you slipping any further under Atsumu's spell when his stake was equally branded into your mind...

Silently tracking the agitated rise and fall of Atsumu's throat, Osamu considered his next calculated gambit. You were far too precious to squander any longer on these disastrous dalliances that devastated your tender heart over and over and over again. Far too magnificent to allow some unworthy cretin's hands to sully or possess even a moment of your sweet attentions.

Which left only one inexorable conclusion: he and Atsumu would simply have to thoroughly convince you of that themselves - mind, body, and soul. No further delays, no more playing the part of passively smitten observers. Tonight was the breaking point where they finally claimed you for their own with no more false platitudes.

No matter what it took, you would abandon that foolish date and all the cheap facsimiles that had only feebly approximated Osamu and Atsumu's all-consuming desire all these long, torturous years. Once and for all, you would be thoroughly disabused of any remaining delusions.

The full scope of Osamu's resolve must have filtered through his body language, because a frisson of unease abruptly rippled across your features even as rapture still hooded your gaze. Those mercurial eyes flashed up to meet his own burning stare of sin-edged promise as your fingers crept up to self-consciously toy with the neckline of your lurid dress.

"'Samu...?" The tiny querulous quaver in your voice made Osamu's throat constrict painfully. You looked so unbearably sweet and demure yet wanton all at once - the perfect heady blend that had driven both him and his twin to the brink more times than either could count.

Unable to restrain himself a moment more, Osamu surged forward with liquid grace. He cupped the soft plenitude of your cheek with a calloused palm, thumb caressing the anxious flutter of your pulsepoint as your guileless gaze bored into his. So much naked, vulnerable trust in those luminous depths despite the forbidden territory they now roamed...

"Shh, babygirl," Osamu managed to rasp past the scorching knot in his throat. His silvery eyes roved over your features with ravenous precision before letting his stare trail down to more southerly territory. "I know ya' think you've moved on from needin' either of us in that way. But that's alright..."

Osamu allowed his roaming hand to dip lower, fingertips skimming the sumptuous curve of your breast in a feather-light tease that had your eyes fluttering shut. A tremor shuddered through your slight form, causing the gossamer fabric of your dress to rub against your nipples in excruciating friction. The resulting punched-out whimper made Osamu's cock throb insistently, already aching to hear you keen for them as no other.

"We sure as hell haven't moved on from wantin' ya'," he growled against the velvety galaxy of your cheek as Atsumu groaned his concurrence from behind.

Osamu's confession felt like it detonated in the space between your bodies, the raw timbre of his words detonating against your heated skin in visceral waves. You instinctively shivered at the undisguised yearning scorching across that graveled declaration. It seemed to caress every sensitized nerve-ending, stoking insistent tendrils of answering need low in your belly.

Before you could even think to muster a stuttered reply, Atsumu rumbled his own heady agreement in that sandpaper baritone that never failed to splinter your composure. The reverberations shuddered against the ultra-sensitive strip of skin along the nape of your neck where his lips damn near grazed in a searing tease. You could feel the whisper-soft rasp of his exhalation feathering across your flushed epidermis with each panted breath, raising chill after delicious chill.

A violent tremor wracked your form at the dual overload of their overwhelming presences entirely bracketing you in from both sides. The indisputable proof of their smoldering desire felt like a physical force, utterly inescapable even if you'd possessed the will to flee this rapidly thickening miasma of temptation.

Dimly, you registered Osamu's rough palms cupping your jaw in an achingly tender yet inexorably possessive hold. His pewter gaze remained locked onto your features with an inscrutable, raptor-like intensity - as if meticulously cataloging every minute shift of emotion flickering across them. As if committing the exquisite artistry of your discomposure to permanent memory.

You felt incredibly small yet...cherished in that breathless moment between your stepbrothers. Despite the tangible undercurrent of primal want you could all but taste pulsing and crackling in the heated air, their combined physicality and nearness still enveloped you in a discordant sense of utter safety too. As if you remained untouchable - a revered treasure to be exalted or surrendered to reverent hands alone, with no other outcome even remotely permissible.

Osamu's piercing stare lasered downward, meticulously tracking every miniscule part and quiver of your lips. You couldn't be sure through the lusty haze fuzzying your senses, but you were fairly certain his pupils expanded fractionally as your pink tongue instinctively flicked out to wet them. His prominent adam's apple bobbed convulsively, the clenched ridges of his jaw shifting beneath his tawny skin as you watched him visibly struggle to restrain himself.

The tip of his calloused thumb stroked one maddening circle against your tingling skin before unexpectedly drifting lower to trace the plump curve of your lower lip in a molten caress. Your breath strangled in your constricted throat at the unmistakable claiming possession of the action. Osamu's quicksilver stare remained riveted to your parted mouth, utterly transfixed as he unhurriedly mapped its trembling shape and glistening give.

For several agonizing heartbeats, the only sounds permeating the heavy quiet were your shared, harshly indrawn breaths intermingling in the charged space between. You longed and dreaded in equal measure for Osamu to finally break the suspense, certain whichever filthy confessions he finally unleashed would undoubtedly scorch like a brand.

At last, his deep timbre sliced through the ripe tension in a ragged, gravel-rough rasp. "Y'know, baby...there were so many nights after leavin' your bed where I had to slip away and take matters into my own hands. Just to stay sane after bein' surrounded by you—sweet, soft, and so fuckin' unconsciously tempting..."

Osamu's eyelids practically drifted shut, pewter irises disappearing behind a smoky veil as he indulged in whatever vivid reminiscences your nearness summoned. You felt the trembling beginnings of a delicious shudder start outward from your solar plexus at his blatant implication. The blunt rasp of his voice caressed every tingling nerve like a brand, making your lungs constrict with effort.

"Had to lock myself away..." he continued in that sandpaper timbre that burrowed straight to your molten core. "'Til I could come with your name on my lips and pretend for just a second that it was you and not my own fist wrapped around my cock, milkin' me dry."

A desperate whimper very nearly shredded free of your parted, panting lips as a fresh blaze of slick heat roared between your clenching thighs. You shamelessly canted your pelvis against the merciless wall of Atsumu's front in a useless bid for friction, for release, for...something.

Osamu's rugged features etched themselves into a semblance of a pained smirk at your helpless reaction, sensing your imminent unraveling with predatory precision. It only made his stare rake across your features with that much more unhurried, heated savoring.

"Or sometimes..." he ground out after a beat, voice rough yet unraveling into something lower and thicker with carnal recollection. "Sometimes I'd picture you still curled up against me in that sweet little nighty of yours, so warm an' soft..."

That shudder broke free in full force then, rendering your entire form trembling like a leave in a gale. Osamu allowed the calloused pad of his thumb to resume tracing the shape of your parted lips almost absently as he descended into this shadowed reverie.

"Could damn near feel how it'd be..." he rasped, pewter gaze molten and unblinking as it continued devouring every twitching nuance of your rapt features. "...to have you close enough to breathe in deep while I got myself off to the thought of sinkin' into that perfect, tight little—"

"Osamu." Atsumu's single bitten utterance from behind you landed like a thunderclap in the scorching quiet. His deep baritone carried unmistakable notes of reproval...and yet undeniable want too. As if he were berating Osamu for succumbing to such feral depravity yet still savoring every lurid syllable regardless.

The brusque sound of your stepbrother's voice jolted through you like an electric shock after the thick,molasses-paced obscenities dripping from Osamu's lips. You blinked hazily, only then realizing you had devolved to shamelessly writhing against the scorching planes of Atsumu's unforgiving front in wordless, wanton entreaty.

Osamu seemed to relish both your and his twin's reactions in equal measure. His lips curved into a practiced smirk - part self-deprecation, part primal male arrogance at reducing you to such a dissolute state. That piercing pewter stare stayed locked onto your dazed features as he ran the very tip of one callused digit around the gasping, swollen shape of your mouth.

"Better be careful there, baby sis," he gritted out in a gravelly tone that somehow sounded unhurried yet rougher around the edges,as if spiraling towards that precarious edge of control. "Y'keep temptin' us with those pretty lips of yours much longer and one of us is like to finally snap and fu—"

"Enough." Atsumu's low command cut through the thick, desire-hazed miasma shrouding the room like a knife. The razor-edged utterance had an immediate sobering effect, seeming to splinter the fevered tension into something darker yet no less molten.

You turned your bemused stare up towards him, following the simmering weight of his glowering regard as he leveled it towards Osamu. Atsumu's expressive features had taken on an almost feral set - upper lip curled into the slightest of snarls, russet eyes blazing from beneath lowered brows, the sharp ridges of his jaw clenched until they strained against the tawny skin.

Osamu met his twin's look of mute challenge head-on, lips twisting into a semblance of a sneer. "Got a problem, 'Tsumu?" he drawled in a deceptively nonchalant rasp laced with undisguised provocation.

You couldn't help the instinctive tremor that skated down your spine at the sheer predatory undercurrent suddenly charging the air between them. It was almost as if some unspoken gauntlet had been thrown - two apex predators silently squaring off to determine pack hierarchy in your presence.

The thought should have been unsettling instead of sending fresh tendrils of yearning licking through your veins. But you found yourself utterly transfixed, pinned between their uncompromising physicality and slowly circling intensity.

Atsumu's palm settled over your lower abdomen once more in a scorching, proprietary caress, his solid heat all but searing against your back through the thin layers between you. "Think I got a pretty big problem with you talking to our girl like that, runnin' that filthy mouth of yours," he practically purred in that honeyed rasp yet underscored by sharpened steel.

His grip tightened imperceptibly, forcing you to crane your neck and meet the blazing molten regard he turned on you next. For a suspended moment, the whole world seemed to narrow to the three of you coiled in shared tension and intoxicating promise.

"Don't listen to him, pretty thing," Atsumu breathed against the fragile shell of your ear, words whiskey-rough yet somehow dripping with honeyed persuasion too. "Ain't nobody gonna touch you but me and 'Samu from now on, you hear? Say it and I'll prove just how good we aim to treat our sweet girl..."

A shuddery exhalation stuttered from your parted lips before you could stop it - an exquisite combination of delirious anticipation and dawning unease. Despite the electric promise and undisguised possession dripping from his every word, you still couldn't shake the feeling of teetering on a precipice overlooking unknown depths.

Which was likely why Osamu chose that highly-charged moment to snake one broad palm around the elegant curve of your hip, anchoring you to him with blatant ownership and disrupting his twin's attempt at dominance.

"Don't go pullin' that syrupy sweet-talkin' bullshit on our girl," Osamu cut in with a rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate straight through your intertwined forms. "She knows damn well I've had first claim on that pretty mouth for years, don't you babydoll?"

His quicksilver stare pinned you with laser-focused intensity despite directing his sneering challenge towards Atsumu. You instinctively shivered at the knowledge of what searing, heart-stoppingly explicit confessions were poised to tumble from those chiseled lips once more.

"In fact," Osamu drawled in that hoarse, midnight timbre that snagged like barbs in your soul, "I seem to recall tellin' you every lil' fantasy I used to have about slippin' this fat di—"

Atsumu's snarling interruption shattered the baiting quiet before Osamu could unleash the full depraved scope of where his thoughts strayed. "Like I told ya' to shut that lying mouth before, asshole!"

His prominent adam's apple bobbed convulsively as he visibly fought for control, taut forearms tensing where they encircled you from behind. You felt utterly caught between them, riding the cresting tempest of their volatile struggle for dominance.

The only sounds were the harsh, intermingled rasp of three sets of harsh breaths for numerous charged moments. Then Atsumu shifted behind you, radiating menace and possession as he pressed a series of searing, bruising kisses along the fragile arch of your throat in stark counterpoint to his next vicious whisper.

"Bet that pretty brain of yours never even imagined the kinda racy fuckin' dreams you started hauntin' my sleep with, huh babygirl? Me picturin' every lush inch of you spread out an' beggin' while I finally got to bury this cock so deep inside—"

The filthy, blunt confession dangled unfinished in the simmering ether between you like a taunting lure. Atsumu pulled back far enough to pin you under the crucible of his searing, animalistic stare - all mottled color high on his chiseled cheekbones and wild, blazing hunger crackling behind rusted amber irises.

You remained utterly suspended between them, trembling full-bodied from the force of his carnal words yet rooted in place by Osamu's defiant, unbreakable tether at your hip. Their dynamic gravitated between bitter rivalry and seamless tandem in a way that rendered you thoroughly disoriented.

Then Atsumu seized your nape in a shockingly authoritative grip, wrenching your mouth up to fiercely clash with his in a punishing, rapacious kiss filled with teeth and tangling desperation. You moaned into the blistering possession unbidden, overcome with dizzying sensation and relief at finally sating this long-simmered craving for his claiming mastery.

Just as quickly, the rough ecstasy was torn away as Osamu snarled and wrenched you bodily in the opposite direction to crush his lips against yours in an equally all-consuming brand of furious passion.

You gasped into the blazing tangle of their frenzied kiss and groping hands as if drowning, only to be dragged up for desperate air once more by the demanding slant of Atsumu's mouth. His broad palms branded searing trails down the shivery planes of your back and lower, clenching handfuls of yielding flesh in a way that made you whimper against his lips.

"A-Atsumu..." you managed to stutter dazedly when he finally allowed a scant exhale. "Osamu, I...I can't—"

The rest of your plaintive entreaty shattered into silence as Osamu seized you by the hips, spinning you in one sinuous motion to crash against his solid wall of heat. You barely registered the low, guttural rumble that shuddered through his sculpted chest before he was devouring the gasping shape of your lips with reinvigorated fervor.

Your hands scrabbled across the flexing hardscape of his back, desperately trying to anchor yourself in the midst of their warring, rapacious possession. This only seemed to inflame Osamu's intensity as his calloused palms roamed lower in blatant defiance, cupping and squeezing with fiery possession until you keened into his demanding kiss.

"You hear that, 'Tsumu?" he panted against your swollen mouth in a gore-edged rasp. "She wants us both so goddamn bad, don't even try to pretend otherwise..."

His next words devolved into a filthy growl as Atsumu's brutally possessive grip abruptly wrenched you backwards once more, leaving you floundering in their lust-drunken vortex. Before you could even gasp his name in feverish entreaty, Atsumu's mouth slanted over yours in another thorough plundering.

You could only keen his name in wanton surrender, hands fisting in the soft strands at his nape as you gave yourself over to his merciless onslaught. Atsumu growled in primal victory, his clever tongue delving to taste every salacious inch as if branding you, ensuring you never again forgot whose mastery you belonged to.

Osamu rumbled a provocative scoff at this display, clearly relishing in igniting his twin's carnal possessiveness. The maddening temptation of his warm, sinewy form crowded against your back, reminders of his own dominion in the form of slow, smoldering caresses along your waist and lower.

When Atsumu at last tore his mouth from yours, you could barely draw coherent breath. Gazing up at his leonine features awash in a haze of lusty triumph, you finally found the threads of your voice.

"Please..." you breathed in trembling entreaty. "I don't want to choose between you. I need...I need you both so bad, can't you see that?"

The naked nakedness of your confession seemed to strike them both like physical blows. For a suspended moment, the only sounds were your shared, harsh respirations intermingling in the charged air. Then...the subtlest nod of mutual, silent understanding passed between the twins over your shoulders.

You registered the taut lines of Atsumu's body relaxing fractionally as Osamu pressed a series of lingering, ardent kisses along the fragile arch of your throat and jaw in a searing trail. When you craned your neck instinctively to allow him greater access, you caught a glimpse of their shared look of simmering revelation.

"Think we're finally seein' it too, babygirl," Atsumu rumbled in a tone gone lower and thicker with dawning wonder. You shivered at the gravelly timbre that never failed to lick molten trails straight between your thighs. "You were always meant to be ours...for both of us to treasure and ruin in the way only we can."

Osamu's deep, gravelly hum of agreement seemed to reverberate through your very core where you were pressed flush against the solid wall of his chest. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, the scorching brand of his large, calloused hands as they mapped every sumptuous curve in a series of leisurely caresses.

From behind, Atsumu crowded in closer still - the searing wall of his equally muscular frame enveloping you in a way that should have felt confining yet only amplified your yearning. The crisp, masculine scent of him surrounded you in an intoxicating wave, making your head swim dizzily.

"Fuck, you feel so goddamn good against me like this, babygirl," Osamu rasped in a whiskey-rough timbre against the fragile shell of your ear. "Like you were made to fit perfectly in our arms...in our bed."

A violent shudder rippled through you at the naked possession and unabashed promise lacing his deep voice. Before you could formulate a breathless reply, Atsumu's low rumble from behind undercut the intimate moment with a flash of his typical aggravating bravado.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get too fuckin' cocky," he growled, the verbal jab neutered by the undulation of his hips subtly grinding against the swell of your backside. "Seems like you're forgettin' we agreed to share what's ours now."

You whimpered at the unmistakable hardness insistently nudging against you - a bluntly carnal reminder of the delirious temptation they collectively represented. Your head lolled back in helpless abandon to rest against the sturdy juncture of Atsumu's shoulder and throat. Osamu's pewter stare remained riveted to your features, silver irises blazing like polished agate as you blinked back at him in a haze of lust and wonder.

"Don't go gettin' distracted already," he chided in a murmured tone thick with promise, adjusting his secure grip to pull your lower bodies into even more insistent alignment. "We got one very important question to settle first with our sweet girl here..."

Osamu angled his chiseled jaw until his hooded gaze pinned you beneath the potent smolder of its focus, holding you utterly transfixed. His tongue slicked out to wet his lower lip in an unconscious, innocently provocative gesture that had your mouth going cotton-dry.

"Ya want this, pretty thing?" he rasped in that gravel-rough timbre that never failed to lick straight between your thighs with unerring accuracy. "Ya really want 'Tsumu and me to go ahead and take what's ours...make you completely ours at long last?"

You could only mutely nod at first, hypnotized by the searing glint of sin-edged yearning blazing behind his steady regard. But then Atsumu's low, filthy chuckle gusted across the back of your neck, raising delicious gooseflesh in its wake. His clever fingers traced idle, illicit patterns from your hip up towards the vee between your breasts in a teasing cadence that had your thundering pulse kick into a staccato gallop.

"That ain't gonna cut it, babygirl," he tutted in mock reproval. "Need to hear ya' say it... Tell us how goddamn bad you wantin' those pretty lips stretched wide around both our cocks."

The crude, shockingly vulgar words should have appalled you. Should have registered as too far, too depraved to be uttered in civilized company. But they only seemed to detonate a white-hot geyser of molten arousal low in your belly. A helpless, needy noise slipped free before you could stifle it.

"Yes!" you rasped in a desperate, thready exhalation. "Gods, yes...I need you both so badly my entire b-body aches for it."

Osamu swallowed the rest of your fevered confession in a branding, soulsearing kiss that curled your very toes. His questing tongue swept between your lips in a sinuous glide of satin against satin to taste and savor every keen and mewl you willingly offered up.

From behind, you could feel Atsumu's own self-satisfied growl of rapture reverberating against the tender knobs of your spine as his deft fingers trailed an invisible path down your sides to span your hips in a scorching grip. Then he was bodily grinding the rigid length of his cock against the swell of your ass in undisguised possession and dark promise.

You nearly unraveled from the exquisite sensation, arousal detonating in an aching conflagration that very nearly whited out your vision. Atsumu swallowed your garbled sob of sheer need with another merciless slant of his sinful lips against the frantically thundering pulse at the juncture of your throat. The leisurely study of his wicked tongue and teeth left you reeling.

"Soon, babygirl," he purred against your sensitized skin between open-mouthed, branding caresses. "Gonna make you sing so fuckin' pretty for us soon..."

Then Atsumu suddenly spun you to face him, gripping you with inexorable command. You whimpered at the abrupt loss of Osamu's heated imprint, seeking him instinctively even as your stepbrother hauled you against his hulking frame once more. Atsumu's blazing stare pinned you with dark promise for a suspended beat, thumb drifting up to trace the swollen-slick curve of your lower lip.

That searing look of untempered possession flickered briefly to Osamu before returning to scorch you. "'Samu an' I both aim to take our time and treat you right, sweet thing. Make sure you're nice and ready for the main event..."

Your mind swirled in a lust-drunken haze, trying desperately to reconcile his sudden shift into something almost...protective. His russet irises burned into yours with fierce possessiveness as he slowly, deliberately dipped his calloused fingers beneath the elastic band of your lacy panties.

"Wh-What’s the main event?" you managed to stutter, though your breath had turned choppy and erratic.

Osamu's warm, rough palm encircled your nape, drawing your attention back to his own uncompromising expression. Something akin to dark male appreciation simmered behind his hooded eyes, though a hint of concern threaded his next husky utterance.

"What my idiot twin is tryin' to say is, we're both damn well-endowed. Don't want it hurtin' when we fuck this pretty little pussy of yours so good. Gonna stretch and get ya' ready, alright babydoll?"

Your brain short-circuited, unable to process the sheer, carnal scope of the picture his words conjured. Before you could formulate a reply, Osamu's chiseled lips captured yours in another toe-curling, soul-baring kiss. Atsumu's own hands occupied themselves with slowly, meticulously peeling your panties down the curve of your thighs until they pooled around your ankles.

"That's it, sweet girl, just give yourself over to us," he growled against the shell of your ear, deft fingers dancing lightly across the exposed skin of your hips. "'Samu and I got ya'..."

Then he was dragging you backwards into the solid wall of his furnace-hot chest, calloused hands skimming reverently along the silken skin of your thighs. You could only moan into Osamu's plundering kiss as those clever fingers danced higher, trailing a searing path through the soaked folds of your aching sex.

Atsumu's rasping, approving chuckle seemed to vibrate right through you, his broad palms sliding down the flare of your hips and inner thighs in an excruciating tease. You bucked instinctively against his torturous touch, only for him to wrench your hips back against the unyielding steel of his own.

"So fucking wet for us already, aren't ya'?" he crooned darkly in that honey-thick rasp against the back of your neck. "Can't wait to see just how much you can take..."

The blunt edge of his thumb slid past the soaked folds of your outer labia, dragging the wetness towards your clit in a slow, maddening circle. You moaned into the devouring sweep of Osamu's mouth at the sensation, trembling full-bodied as the ache intensified low in your belly.

"Such a pretty little mess we got," Osamu crooned in a throaty murmur.

His fingers threaded through the strands of your hair, gently but firmly anchoring your head in place. He broke the kiss just enough to speak, the words hot against your parted lips. "Open that pretty mouth and suck on these for me, babydoll."

Your lashes fluttered in a haze of delirium, but you complied automatically. His fingers slipped past your lips and teeth, the tang of his salty skin exploding on your taste buds. Atsumu's deep, filthy chuckle rumbled against the delicate knobs of your spine as his hand continued its lazy, tormenting ministrations.

"You heard our girl," he practically purred in a voice gone impossibly deeper with want. "She's hungry for it. Bet she can't wait to take her fill..."

Your head fell back in helpless abandon, lolling against his sculpted chest. Osamu's eyes darkened with undisguised desire as his fingers began to gently pump in and out of your mouth, the rough pads stroking the silken contours in a mimicry of a far more intimate act.

You whimpered around the thick digits, sucking eagerly until they were coated in saliva. When he pulled them away, glistening trails of liquid linked them to your parted lips like gossamer threads.

"Good girl," he breathed with unmistakable approval, a roguish grin splitting his lips as he caught his lower lip between his teeth. "Now why don't ya' go ahead and show 'Tsumu how sweet you can be."

Your stomach clenched in a wave of dizzying anticipation, gaze flicking uncertainly to the twin at your back. He must have caught the subtle motion, because the next instant, his palm was tilting your chin to the side and his mouth was devouring yours in a claiming kiss that left you utterly senseless.

"C'mon, babygirl, let 'Samu watch just how much you want me," he murmured against your swollen mouth, the words barely registering in your lust-drunk haze.

You could feel the hard press of his erection nudging against the swell of your ass even through the denim barrier separating you. Then the heat of his hands was lifting you, spreading the yielding globes of your thighs to bracket his own. You instinctively clung to his biceps for balance, the muscles flexing deliciously under your grip.

"Oh, gods," you whimpered, the raw, hoarse plea barely recognizable.

He'd dragged the hem of your dress higher until the fabric bunched around your waist, leaving you completely exposed. You felt his hands cup and squeeze the supple flesh, the sensation amplified tenfold without the shielding barrier.

Atsumu's lips curved into a leonine smile of pure masculine satisfaction against the curve of your throat. "There's a good girl," he rasped, his breath gusting warmly against the rapidly beating pulse point there.

Osamu's pewter gaze remained riveted to where your bodies were molded together, his own arousal evident in the rigid jut of his jeans and the way he'd unconsciously wet his lower lip. He was still close enough that the intoxicating scent of his cologne seemed to saturate the air around you, mingling with Atsumu's clean, woodsy musk.

"Think we can do better than good, 'Tsumu," he drawled, voice gone hoarse and guttural with want. "I'm thinkin' our girl here wants us to show her exactly what kinda pleasure she's in for."

You watched as Osamu sank down on his knees before you, the position leaving him eye-level with the most vulnerable part of you. You could only shudder at the sensation as his warm, rough palms settled on the backs of your thighs, the coarse brush of his stubble a heady contrast as he leaned forward.

"Hold her still for me," Osamu growled in a voice gone impossibly deeper, and you were certain that you'd combust.

"With fuckin' pleasure," Atsumu muttered, the words a sultry rumble against your neck.

Then the hard ridge of his cock was insistently grinding against the exposed flesh of your backside, his grip anchoring you in place for his twin's ministrations. The air punched from your lungs in a harsh gasp as Osamu's hot, slick tongue finally swiped a sinuous line between the folds of your core.

You could feel the vibration of his answering groan all the way through the tender walls, the sensation heightened by the calloused pads of his thumbs dragging along the seam where your thighs met. His dark head angled slightly, the tip of his nose nudging at the swollen bundle of nerves above.

"Fuck, you're sweet," Osamu groaned, his eyes flicking up to pierce yours with molten intensity.

You could only whimper, head spinning in an erotic haze as he continued his thorough exploration. He seemed to revel in every gasp and shudder that wracked your frame, every involuntary jerk and twitch against his questing tongue.

"How's she taste?" Atsumu asked in a dark rumble, his grip tightening fractionally on your thighs.

"Like fuckin' heaven," Osamu replied without hesitation, his tongue continuing its languid sweep along the length of your slit.

He punctuated the words with a deliberate swipe of his tongue around the entrance, probing slightly before repeating the motion. The slow, decadent pace was driving you mad with want, but Atsumu's implacable hold prevented any desperate bucking.

"Don't get too fuckin' smug now, brother. Remember, I get to go first," Atsumu murmured against the back of your neck, the words almost teasing.

He shifted his stance ever so slightly, dragging his clothed erection along the seam of your ass in a deliberate thrust. Your stomach clenched in an aching spiral at the sensation, even through the layers of fabric.

"G-god," you stuttered, the word breaking on a sharp inhale as Osamu's tongue delved deeper, the tip swirling along the sensitive edges.

"Don't go forgettin' to be a good girl and thank him properly, now," Atsumu taunted, his fingers digging deliciously into the tender flesh of your thighs. He released his hold just long enough to trail one hand lower, pulling his hand back with a sharp slap that was aimed directly at your sex.

"Thank you," you cried out, the words broken by a sob.

Osamu's answering chuckle vibrated against your core, sending another bolt of heat straight to the liquid, throbbing ache building low in your belly. When his tongue plunged even deeper, the slick muscle stroking along your walls in a devastating rhythm, you arched mindlessly against Atsumu's immovable grip.

"You can do better than that, babygirl," he admonished, his voice gone thick and guttural. His hand hovered threateningly, poised for another teasing spank. "He's doing such a good job, ain't he? Go ahead and show 'Samu just how much ya' appreciate his tongue fuckin' that greedy pussy of yours."

You could only nod, the movement frantic. The next instant, three of his fingers came down in a punishing strike directly on your clit. The sensation sent a lightning bolt of sensation careening straight up your spine, the pressure coiling tighter, more intense.

"Thank you! Tha-ahh...thank you so much, Osamu," you managed to stutter.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he rumbled, his lips brushing along the sensitive nub at the apex of your sex. The stubble of his jaw abraded the tender flesh in a maddening glide that only further inflamed the liquid, molten need.

His silver eyes gleamed wickedly in the dim light of the room, the pupils blown wide with undisguised carnal desire. "You gonna cum for us like this, sweet thing? Or d'you need somethin' a little thicker inside to take the edge off?"

You could only moan at his brazen inquiry, the sound bordering on a whimper. Then he was sucking your clit between his lips and flicking the swollen bud with the tip of his tongue, his fingers curling upwards to stroke the sensitive front wall of your sex.

"F-Fuck, 'Samu, I'm gonna-"

Your sentence was broken off by a keening cry as the pressure coiling low in your belly abruptly detonated, shattering through you with the force of a tidal wave. You were dimly aware of the hot liquid that gushed out in a flood, coating Osamu's waiting mouth and chin. He merely lapped at you like a starving man, a guttural groan rumbling through him.

"Shit," Atsumu swore, his own hips jerking forward as his cock ground against the exposed swell of your ass. His free hand was palming his own length in a desperate rhythm, the other maintaining its bruising grip on your hip. "Didn't think ya'd squirt like that, babygirl. That's a damn sight to behold..."

You were too far gone, caught in the throes of orgasm to even attempt a reply. Instead, you slumped back against Atsumu, grateful for his steady support as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through your trembling frame. Osamu was still lapping gently at the swollen, soaked folds, the sensation almost too much.

"Please," you whimpered, the word bordering on a sob. "Too much..."

"Just cleanin' ya' up, pretty thing," he crooned in a hoarse voice, his hooded stare lifting to pin you. His tongue swiped the glistening sheen from his lips and chin, savoring the taste. "Fuck, you're gorgeous like this...all soft and pliant, fucked out."

Then Osamu was rising in one fluid motion, the movement bringing his broad body into closer alignment with yours. The muscled expanse of his torso was a solid wall before you, the defined ridges and dips tempting you to lean forward and explore. He caught your wrists in his grip, drawing you close and guiding them down to the waistband of his jeans.

"Wanna touch me, babydoll?" he rasped, the gravel-rough timbre edged with sinful promise.

Your fingers trembled as they worked at the buckle, then slid the zipper down until the straining ridge of his arousal was visible, a damp spot visible where the tip was tenting the fabric of his boxers. You sucked in a shaky breath, gaze darting up to meet his. Osamu's pewter eyes had gone dark with need, the normally silver irises now the color of storm clouds.

"Go on," he urged, the words a gruff growl. "Wrap those pretty fingers around my cock and give him a nice, hard squeeze."

Your pulse hammered erratically, the tempo ratcheting higher as you slipped your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. They wrapped around his shaft, the skin scorchingly hot and satin-soft. Your fingertips skimmed along the vein that ran from root to tip, exploring the unfamiliar terrain with tentative strokes.

The muscles beneath his abdomen contracted sharply, a groan punching free from his lips. Then Atsumu was hauling you backwards against his own unyielding frame, his calloused palm sliding along the flare of your hips and the curve of your stomach.

"Don't forget about me, sweet girl," he growled, his voice thick and husky. "'Samu's got you warmed up and nice an' ready to take our cocks. Time for you to put that pretty mouth of yours to good use, don't ya' think?"

You could feel the heavy length of him nestled against the seam of your backside, the sensation almost dizzying. Your own fingers were still wrapped around Osamu's thick shaft, and it gave a slight jump as your thumb stroked along the silken crown.

Atsumu rose to his full height, forcing you to your knees between them. His hands tangled in your hair, fisting the strands in a loose grip as he tilted your face upwards. "Don't know if you're ready for 'Samu to fuck that throat just yet, so I'll be a gentleman and go first."

Your lashes fluttered closed at the image, arousal sparking low in your belly once more. Then Atsumu was pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, parting them to slip inside. You automatically opened for him, swirling your tongue around the salty digit as you stared up at him with hooded eyes.

"Yeah, there's a good girl," he crooned, the praise sending another wave of heat through your veins.

His grip tightened fractionally, guiding you to the open fly of his jeans. You yelped in surprise as his cock sprang free andslapped against your cheek, the tip glistening and flushed. Atsumu chuckled darkly at the startled noise, the sound reverberating against the hollows of your ribcage.

"Don't worry, sweet thing. It's not gonna bite," he teased.

His grip remained firm on the back of your head, angling you in place. You could see the way his muscles contracted, his free hand wrapping around the thick length and giving it a lazy stroke. Then the tip was grazing your lips, smearing the salty precum.

"Open," he ordered, the word a throaty command.

You complied immediately, the soft, wet heat of your mouth enveloping the velvety steel of his shaft. His head fell back in a groan, the sound a mix of relief and agonized pleasure. The hands on the back of your head kept you pinned as he began to rock his hips slowly, fucking into your mouth with careful thrusts.

Meanwhile Osamu had dropped to his knees once more, his deft fingers hooking the delicate strap of your dress and yanking the fabric down your shoulder. He peppered a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the newly exposed flesh, teeth nipping lightly at the tender skin.

"You have such pretty tits, babydoll," he murmured, his words fanning the exposed skin.

Then his hands were cupping them, the roughened pads of his thumbs circling the nipples into aching points. Your breath hissed through your teeth, a sharp sting of pleasure-pain. He seemed to take that as encouragement, repeating the motion before dragging the pad across the erect peaks in a gentle tug.

Atsumu's grip was anchored in the back of your hair, keeping you from jerking away at the sensation. Instead, he took advantage of the moment to thrust deeper, the tip nudging the back of your throat. You couldn't help but choke a little, your gag reflex triggering as the muscles contracted around him.

"There ya' go," he groaned, the words guttural and raw. "Just relax and let me use that throat..."

You did your best to comply, letting the tension in your shoulders ease as he continued to drive deeper, faster. His fingers were gripping the sides of your skull, his gaze burning into you as he fucked into the wet, soft cavern.

Osamu's mouth latched onto one nipple, suckling it with firm, demanding pulls. His other hand kneaded the opposite breast, rolling the sensitive flesh between his thumb and forefinger. The sensations were all building, tightening the coil of desire deep within your belly until you were trembling beneath the onslaught.

"Fuck, she's good at this," Atsumu bit out, the words a ragged gasp. "'Samu, she's got the sweetest mouth. You have to try-"

The sentence broke off as he shuddered almost violently, his cock throbbing on the precipice. He yanked you off his length in a rough jerk, a thin thread of saliva still connecting your swollen, parted lips to the flushed tip. You could only watch as his fist wrapped around the base, stroking once, twice, and then he was spurting in white ropes across your face.

You moaned at the sensation, the warm liquid splashing against your lips and cheeks. It dripped down in pearlescent rivulets, streaking across the slope of your breasts. Osamu's own cock pulsed beneath his touch, his eyes burning dark and molten as they stared down at the debauched sight.

"Goddamn, that's a fuckin' sight," he rasped, the words strained.

Atsumu gave himself a few final strokes, the motions milking the last vestiges of pleasure. When he released his hold on his cock, it was to drag a fingertip along the trail of cum, then press it past your lips. You sucked eagerly, swirling your tongue around the salty digit and humming at the flavor.

"Such a dirty girl," Atsumu growled, his free hand fisting in your hair. "'Samu, how's about we take this to the bed?"

You watched as the twin in question nodded, the action almost frantic. The next instant, you were being hauled to your feet and guided towards the massive king-size bed dominating the room. Your limbs felt boneless, and you were grateful for the guiding touch of their hands.

"How're we gonna do this?" Atsumu asked, directing the question towards his brother.

"Why don’t we ask her?" Osamu responded, his fingers trailing along the delicate curve of your shoulder. "What do ya' want, babydoll?"

The question threw you for a loop. It had never even occurred to you that you'd be able to choose, or that the twins would even care enough to offer you the opportunity. Your gaze flicked uncertainly between the two, a flush warming your cheeks as the words left you.

"I want...both. At the same time," you murmured, the words almost too soft to be heard.

You could see the way Atsumu's cock twitched at the statement, already hardening again. It was an impressive feat, given that he'd only just orgasmed a few moments prior. He glanced at his twin, the smirk playing about his lips clearly conveying the sentiment 'so we can share, after all.'

"Both, huh? Ya' wanna take our cocks at the same time?" Osamu clarified, his tone thoughtful. "We agreed that 'Tsumu would get your pussy first, since I got to eat it. What about that sweet ass of yours? Think you're ready for that?"

"N-No, I meant…I want you both in the same hole." You could feel the heat creeping into your cheeks as you stuttered over the words.

The silence stretched between the three of you, broken only by the soft sounds of your breathing. You could feel the way your heart hammered against the cage of your ribs, the blood roaring in your ears as the reality of what you'd said began to sink in.

Atsumu was the first to speak, his voice a hoarse rasp. "Did ya' just say what I think you did?"

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" Osamu asked at the same time, his brows knitting in concern. "That's a lotta cock to take. Don't wanna hurt you."

Your gaze darted between the two of them, and the words slipped out before you could even register them.

"I trust you," you said, and realized it was the truth. "I can take it."

The next instant, the world was tilting on its axis as Osamu tossed you effortlessly onto the bed. You landed with a bounce, the impact jarring you slightly. Then his weight was blanketing you, his hips bracketing your own and his cock a scorching brand between your legs.

"That's right, ya' can," he growled, the words a dark promise. "Just lie back and let us take care of ya'."

Atsumu had already positioned himself on the bed, his hand pumping along the shaft of his length in a lazy rhythm. His golden eyes gleamed with undisguised lust as he watched his twin grinding against you. The head of his cock nudged teasingly at the entrance, and a thrill shot straight up your spine.

"I want to make this good for you," Osamu murmured, his voice a low rumble against the shell of your ear. "So tell me if anythin' starts to hurt. Got it?"

He pressed forward, and the swollen, slick folds parted around the thick length. It wasn't nearly as painful as you'd anticipated, the wetness easing the slide. A shudder wracked his frame, a harsh groan punching from his lips as he sank deeper.

"Gods, you're so fuckin' tight," he bit out.

He didn't stop until the root was flush against the curve of your sex, his hips slotted neatly against your own. You could only arch mindlessly beneath him, the sensation of being so full unlike anything you'd ever experienced. Your inner walls clenched around the intrusion, and Osamu's answering hiss told you that the sensation was pleasurable.

One iron-corded arm wrapped around your waist, and you felt him lift you slightly. You were practically straddling his thighs, the angle causing him to slip even deeper. Atsumu shifted into place behind you, his hands cupping the generous swell of your ass and spreading the cheeks.

"Fuck, that's a pretty sight," he groaned, his fingers digging into the supple flesh.

Osamu began to rock against you, the shallow thrusts setting your nerve endings aflame. You could only whimper helplessly, your fingers digging into his broad shoulders for purchase. Your hips jerked as a particularly strong bolt of sensation rocketed through your core.

"Gonna need ya' to relax, babydoll," Osamu rasped, his hands anchoring you firmly in place. "Just a little more, and then 'Tsumu will be joinin' the fun. Be a good girl for us, now."

You forced the tension from your limbs, allowing him to move freely. The next instant, the blunt tip of Atsumu's cock was probing at the same entrance, his length sliding alongside his brother's. Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as the pain-pleasure mingled, the sensation overwhelming.

"You're so goddamn tight," he ground out, the words grating and raw.

Atsumu didn't give you a chance to respond, merely pushed his hips forward with a firm thrust. He was met with slight resistance, the muscles clenching tightly around the combined girth. Then his cock was bottoming out, the sensation nearly sending you spiraling over the edge.

"Shit," Osamu swore, his head falling back. His throat bobbed as he swallowed convulsively, a fine tremor running through his muscular frame. "This is...holy fuck."

Atsumu made a sound that was somewhere between a growl and a moan, the low, guttural noise reverberating through you. He rocked his hips experimentally, the motion sending sparks of heat licking along your veins. You were stretched taut, the dual sensation of having them both inside bordering on too much.

"How is she?" Atsumu bit out, his gaze meeting his twin's over the top of your head.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? Feel so damn good around my cock," Osamu groaned.

Your only response was a moan, the wordless noise a benediction. He took it as a cue to start moving, the shallow thrusts driving a little deeper, harder. Atsumu's own cock was pulsing with the need for release, and he mirrored his brother's movements, timing his pace to match.

They were like two cogs in a well-oiled machine, their motions a seamless tandem. Each thrust sent a wave of sensation crashing through your core, the coil of tension ratcheting tighter and tighter. Your vision had gone hazy, the world blurring at the edges.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Atsumu groaned, his fingers digging into the generous curve of your ass.

"Hold on," Osamu gritted out. His grip shifted, his hands lifting you easily by the backs of your thighs. You were practically bent in half, and the new angle allowed them to reach even deeper. "Gonna give it to her just like this, 'Tsumu. Give her every last inch and fuck her nice and hard."

Then the twins were pounding into you with merciless, punishing thrusts, their cocks dragging against the sensitive inner walls. Your fingers dug into the taut muscles of Osamu's shoulders, and the sharp bite of your nails had him groaning low in his throat.

"Gods, she's tightening up on me," Atsumu hissed, his words ragged and broken. "Cumming...gonna cum!"

His hips snapped forward one last time, and the pressure detonated in a blinding supernova. His cock gave a violent twitch as he came, a low groan tearing from his lips. You could feel the hot gush of his seed, and the sensation was enough to send you plummeting into your own release.

Osamu managed to thrust a few more times before his own body was succumbing, his hips grinding flush against the curve of your ass as he spilled deep inside. The world around you faded to black, the pleasure-pain of it all leaving you dizzy and weak.

It took several minutes for the three of you to come down, your chests heaving with exertion. You could still feel the warmth of the twins' bodies surrounding you, and Osamu's lips were trailing along the curve of your neck. Atsumu's face was nestled into the side of your throat, and he nuzzled the skin there lazily.

"Fuck, that was intense," he mumbled, the words muffled.

Osamu nodded, and the motion caused his hair to brush against your cheek. "I wasn't expectin' her to take both of us like that."

"Think she can go again?" Atsumu asked, lifting his face to look at his brother. "I don’t think we convinced her to not go out with any more of those losers."

"Maybe she just needs a little more convincin'," Osamu drawled, his mouth curling into a feral smirk.

You could only whimper softly at the prospect, the sound a mixture of desire and exhaustion. Then Atsumu was sliding his hands along the supple swell of your hips, his thumb dipping between the crease of your ass. You jumped at the unexpected contact, the reaction earning a chuckle from him.

"Easy there, sweet girl," he crooned, the husky edge returning to his voice. "We're gonna have so much fun together."

[sematarygirls]

🍼 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── rafe thinks academic!reader wants a baby

   Rafe was absolutely certain that you were trying to subtly hint at wanting to have a baby with him. At the first comment, he assumed you were ovulating because you always did get a little bit of baby fever when you were, but then, you just kept showering him with random facts about the development of infants and toddlers to the point that he started to believe you were dropping hints.

Rafe wasn't someone who liked to play games. He preferred to be told things straight up, no beating around the bush, but being with you, he'd noticed that you had a habit of trying to subtly slide what you wanted into conversation, so you didn't have to directly ask. Almost like you were trying to make him think it was his idea, not yours—apparently, those psychology classes were really paying off.

It had gotten to the point where he had confided in Topper and Kelce, asking them if that's how it sounded to them—bad idea, Topper and Kelce are the last people to go to for relationship advice—to which they both agreed that it definitely sounded as though you were trying to suggest Rafe should get you pregnant.

The idea was completely out of the blue. You both were still so young, and you were still in school trying to get your degree in psychology. You two had only been dating for a couple of months and had never discussed marriage or engagement because it all felt so new to both of you. After all, Rafe was still reforming from his playboy ways and party lifestyle, and you hadn't been in many relationships prior to being with him.

He had originally decided to try his best to ignore your little comments, hoping you would eventually drop the subject altogether. Rafe had never really thought about kids, and he definitely didn't think he was dad material, his fear of turning out like his own father overshadowing the desire deep down to have a child—one he often pushed aside and tried to ignore.

But, you hadn't given up. If anything, it seemed like your mentions of children became more and more frequent—whether that was true or he just believed it was because he was hard-core stressing about it remained unclear. Eventually, Rafe decided he had to address it and make sure you knew that he wasn't planning on having kids with you antime soon, even if it seemed a little harsh to say considering how enthusiastic you seemed.

"Did you know after about a year, the pace at which children learn words accelerates rapidly, and by eighteen months, the average child is learning a new word every day?" You tore your gaze away from your phone screen to look over at him, a bright, proud smile on your face. You were sat in the passenger seat of his truck after he picked you up from your classes, intending to bring you back to Tannyhill, so you two could hang out.

"Okay, you've really gotta cut that shit out," Rafe said, a lot harsher than he intended to. He had already had a bad day, and he just wanted to relax with his girlfriend, not try to decode you and your baby talk. He was tired of dancing around the issue, and his stress only brought that out, making him snap at you.

Your brows furrowed, smile faltering at his words. He had never spoken to you like that before, and you couldn't for the life of you figure out why a little fact of all things had elicited such a reaction. He usually loved hearing all about your little facts, constantly telling you how sexy your intellect was to him. "What?" You simply asked, too hurt and confused to vocalize why his outburst seemed so completely out of the blue.

"Listen I," he took a deep breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening for a moment before he relaxed again. "I don't want to have a baby with you," he said bluntly. Noticing how cruel that may have sounded, he decided to add an: "Atleast... not right now, alright?"

Your face was a mask of pure confusion. You weren't so much hurt anymore as utterly lost. Where did the topic of you two having children come from? "Rafe, what are you talking about?" You asked, not understanding where he could have possibly got the idea that you wanted to have a baby with him.

He glanced over at you, his own features morphing into an expression that mirrored yours. "All the baby facts and shit. I thought," he paused, wondering if he had read the situation all wrong, but that didn't make sense. It had been pretty fucking apparent to him, Topper, and Kelce that you were dropping baby hints. "I thought you were... yknow trying to tell me something."

You processed the new information for a moment before bursting into laughter to which Rafe glanced rapidly between you and the road, his brows only furrowing farther as he watched you laugh as if he'd said the most hilarious thing conceivable. "Oh, baby," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder when your fit of hysterics finally died down. "No, I definitely was not hinting at anything. I am so swamped with school and work that I barely have time for you, let alone a child."

"What?" Rafe asked, relief flooding through him at your confirmation that you weren't trying to subconsciously trick him into wanting a baby with you through your little psychology tricks. Simultaneously, he felt extremely dumbfounded as to your motivations. "Then why have you been talking about kids so much recently?" He quirked an eyebrow, pulling into the driveway of his family's estate.

"Because we're covering the development and learning unit in my psych course, which obviously focuses a lot on the earlier stages of life aka infancy and childhood," you explained, watching realization dawn on him like a light bulb turning on in a dark, empty room. "I didn't think I had to spell that out for you since i'm always hitting you with random facts from class."

Rafe parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt so he could turn to face you. "Okay, so just to be crystal clear, you weren't trying to use fuckin'...i dont know- subliminal messaging and weird psychobabble voodoo to like, make me want to get you pregnant?"

You laughed, unbuckling your own seatbelt, so you could face him too. "No, you idiot. You're so ridiculous," you grinned, leaning over to give him a peck on the lips. "I promise you I don't want children right now, and if that ever changes, I will talk to you about it and not use subliminal messaging or weird psychobabble voodo."

"Okay, good," he nodded, opening his car door. "Topper and Kelce swore that you were trying to play some kind of mind game."

"Why would you listen to Topper and Kelce of all people?" You asked, following suit in getting out of the car, your brows furrowing as he mentioned the two people who have yet to hold a stable, healthy relationship for any period of time. "They're the world's biggest idiots."

"Yeah, you're right," he grinned, walking over to you and slinging his arm around your shoulder as you two walked to the front door. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he murmured. pressing a kiss to your temple.

"It's okay," you reassured him, sliding your hand onto his back and rubbing soft, soothing circles. "Just promise you'll talk to me next time instead of letting it build up and fester until you get to the point where you feel like snapping."

"I promise," he vowed, ushering you into the house. "Now let me show you—my beautiful, intelligent, and amazing girlfriend—how sorry I really am," he gave your ass a little tap, making his intentions clear as he steered you toward the staircase, your giggles echoing through the empty house.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind

[shellofhappiness]

The general dialogue between Eric and that AOL girl regarding his philosophy on love has always stood out to me. It's one of the very few moments of vulnerability we've been given / able to find on his character over the past twenty years.

Eric always had his guard up. We all mostly know this from his own writings, no one acts like how he portrayed himself naturally. But, also including the accounts given about him from other people in his life, important or not, before and after passing. Mostly commonly described as aggressive and irritable, yet closed-off and restrained.

Alongside that online exchange, the only other times I can think of were when he called out of work to be there for his sick dog, or the innocent adoration he held toward his older brother, alongside sincere respect for his mother, of course, Reb's "I wish I were a fucking sociopath" Tape, and (arguably) his undisclosed email to his childhood best friend.

He talked about love like he was an outsider. A still figure watching it & whatever shape it may take maneuver around him, but not having the ability to engage. Let alone even acknowledge the fact it could be something of his own as well if he reached his hand out to touch it, but that wasn't even a possibility for him at that moment. Feeling comfortable enough to bring it up, but never to address it directly. Mentioning what he believed, but never outright saying it, afraid to cross a boundary. Though, he was still very careful with his wording despite not feeling confident enough to state his opinion in full. Being just general enough so he didn't risk the girl disagreeing with his words because he didn't give her an opening to do so, but still baring just a bit of his self to her through his ego because it was just the two of them.

Everyone talks about the concept of "love" relating to the case in reference to DK, because it was something that openly consumed him in private, but in a way, I feel the same just might have applied to Eric as well. But, like many other things relating to him, he hid it all away inside of himself. To live is to be vulnerable, and the times Eric was, never ended in his favor. Hence why he conditioned himself to be so isolated from everyone else, emotionally independent.

When Eric did openly talk about his doctrine on love, it was that degenerate & exploitative journal passage in which he wrote in depth about the idea of forcing himself onto certain women in his life alongside gaudy band lyrics. Considering how hesitant he was to directly speak to another girl about love, even under the context they were both being open with each other, the passage was likely written out of some kind of complex frustration. To compensate for how he felt like such a stranger in the face of it, but remarkably knowledgeable when speaking objectively. He wasn't being honest with himself, but still desperately needed some kind of liberation as an attempt to stop whatever feeling of desire he harbored from further stirring inside him.

The passion that stems from hatred is something I'm sure we all know Eric was well acquainted with. I think the hate inside of him masked the love, being overshadowed and making it appear small. It was definitely there, but seldom did it get a voice to speak in comparison to the amount of steam he let out on a general basis.

Eric cared a lot. When you look past the ego he presented to the whole world, he wasn't an individual with ASPD by any stretch of the means. He wanted not to be independent, but his life made him feel that was the only option he could truly rely on with the social instability he faced growing up. He wanted to be seen. I'm sure many people have voiced this before, but it's truly heart-wrenching to think he was doing this big finale act with his best friend, maybe because he had his best friend there to do it with him, only to find out post-mortem that DK didn't hold him to the same high regard. Maybe close, but not at all on the exact same level.

Putting the fact aside both of them expressed fantasies of doing NBK with their own respective "dream girl," DK wanted other options for someone to go through with the date, other actual people in his life, but from Eric's point-of-view, it had to be Dylan. Dylan was one of the very few people in his life, the only one still present with him, that aided his desire not to be alone. To be seen as an individual. To be vulnerable. Under the impression Dylan felt the same way he did, or at least something similar ... and while I won't deny it was there, it just wasn't as significant to the other party.

"What one person calls true love (EH) can be just another cheap thrill to another (DK)."

I'd like to specify that my goal with this post isn't to send the message that they were "gay," nor point out any form of "romantic chemistry," but rather to emphasize how languished love was overall in Eric's life. Also, I think there's an absurdist humor that comes from the irony of him saying this with what we know would follow half at his hands (you know who the other half is).

They both loved each other as friends, without a doubt, but it's so tragic to think that Eric's closest bond, a connection of love so intimate yet unrelated to direct societal romance, which created a strength so abundant that it started a ripple effect worldwide that still persists to this very day, wasn't quite requited the way he thought it was. Just like every other published bond of his, in his sad little existence.

[willowsnook]

When Love is Left Unspoken pt. 2 (MV)

max verstappen x reader

pt. 1 here

I could be talked into a pt. 3 if people want it

It had been a week since the Austin GP and forgetting about what happened had been impossible mostly because Max would not leave you alone.

He didn't reach out directly, but every morning this week, you had woken up to a new gift outside your door. Flowers, chocolate, coffee, pastries, clothing, etc. You had no idea how he even knew your address.

You struggled with what to do. On one hand, you had missed your best friend for a long time. You missed the inside jokes, the comfort you found in him, and supporting one another. But on the other hand, you couldn't stop thinking about how he threw it all away because he was scared of loving you. You had never been scared of loving him, even if you never said. Well maybe that was hypocritical.

Saturday morning an envelope accompanied the box outside of your door. You opened the box first, revealing a vintage RedBull racing bomber jacket that cost who knows how much. It was cute, you'd give it that. Opening the envelope you froze as you read the letter that sat next to a paddock pass for the Brazil GP.

I know you hate me and you have a good reason to but I will do anything to have you back by my side even if you refuse to look at me. Please come to Brazil, I know it's your favorite track. You can stay on Checo's side of the garage if it makes you feel better.

Love, Your Max

Brazil was your favorite track and in the past you had always travelled down early to experience the culture for a bit before the racing started.

You facetimed Carmen, hoping to talk this through with someone else.

"Hey girl, what's up?" She asked, clearly in the middle of a workout.

"Oh, I can call later if you're busy," you said and she shook her head.

"No, it's okay!"

"Max invited me to the Brazilian GP," you told her slowly and her eyes widened.

"Wow."

"I know, I don't know what to do."

Carmen was silent for a little bit, clearly thinking. "Is there any part of you that wants to make up with him?"

"Yes," you admitted quietly. "But I hate myself for even thinking that. I don't want to just forget about everything that happened and take him back with open arms."

"I don't think you necessarily have to forget what happened but maybe focus on the people you both have grown to be in these last few years. Maybe treat it like you are starting over."

"So you think I should go?"

"Selfishly yes of course," she said grinning and you couldn't help but smile back. "You don't even have to spend time with him. Just see how it feels to be around him."

After hanging up with Carmen, you texted the number Max had given you for his assistant in order to get flights and a hotel figured out.

-----------------------------------

You landed in Brazil on media day and didn't plan on going to the track until Saturday. Max was pulling out all the stops even when he couldn't see you as evidenced by the ridiculously nice hotel he put you in. The view was amazing and laying on the bed was a variety of your favorite snacks and drinks with a card that read "I'm so glad you're here -your Max."

The 'Your Max' thing was working even though you hated to admit it. You spent the next two days traveling around the city by yourself and then with Carmen.

Saturday rolled around and you found yourself nervous to be at the paddock despite Carmen's constant reassurances. You hadn't seen Max yet and you weren't really sure what to say when you did.

Funny enough, the first person you ran into when you made it to the RedBull garage was Christian Horner.

"Y/n!" He said surprised to see you. "It's been a while, how are you? You know my wife is obsessed with your tik tok channel."

"Ahh tell her I said thank you," you replied kindly. "I've been doing well."

"We're glad to have you back," he said and your heart swelled. "It's been a rough year for him."

"I'm not sure I can change that," you said politely and he gave you a look.

"You just being here might," he commented before leaving you to go talk with the mechanics. You wandered around the garage, catching up with a lot of people you hadn't seen in a long time.

Max spotted you as he was coming out of his drivers' room and his heart stopped. Of course he knew you were in Brazil, but he still wasn't 100% sure you'd show up. He didn't think he should approach you so he just lingered by watching you. You felt him watching you and looked over at him, trying to control your breathing and gave him a small smile.

He smiled back before being called off to get ready for the sprint. Leaning against the back wall you pulled your headphones and settled in to watch. Max was doing pretty good, battling with Charles for most of the race. Your face appeared on the broadcast and you smiled to the camera, giving it a small wave.

After the race you checked your phone to see that you'd been tagged in countless tweets.

@.username12312: Was that y/n y/l/n in the RedBull garage? I thought her and Max had a falling out???

reply to @.usernam12312 @.user345: Yeah they haven't been friends for a long time. It had something to do with Kelly

reply to @.user345 @.username12312: oh yeah, you're right! I always liked y/n better anyways

You were amused reading the speculation and decided to stir the pot further. While Max was doing interviews you found Checo in the garage and asked him to take a picture with you. The confused man agreed and you quickly posted it to your Instagram story with the caption: My favorite RedBull driver, good luck tomorrow!

Carmen and Lily both slid up with laughing emojis and you walked back to Max's side, trying to avoid the rain. It was really coming down now and you weren't sure if they would even be able to go out on the track. You found Max a little while later sitting against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sunk down next to him, holding your knees into your chest.

"Think you'll be able to go out there today?" You asked casually and he looked over at you, clearly excited to hear you speaking to him.

"I would say probably not," he replied. "Maybe tomorrow morning."

"How much longer until we know?"

"Another half hour would be my guess," he said. "I can call for someone to take you back if you want to leave now?"

"No, I'll wait," you said looking down at your phone. You sat in silence for a while and the rain was starting to make you very sleepy. Losing the battle with yourself, you rested your head on Max's shoulder and he stiffened.

Max smiled to himself as you dozed off and the two of you caught the attention of the cameras, the photo soon to be splashed everywhere online. Quali was called off and Max nudged you awake, reaching out to help you up.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopeful and you nodded. You ran into George and Carmen on the way out and she gave you a knowing look to which you rolled your eyes at.

"You guys should come out to dinner with us," George said. "We're meeting up with Alex and Lily too."

You hesitated, not wanting to miss out but at the same time your social battery was dead. You could only handle so much social interaction before you were craving your warm bed to snuggle into. You started to give in and agree but Max cut you off.

"I think y/n is done being around people for the day so I'm going to take her back."

You looked at him surprised and the realization that he still knew you so well just added more fire to the internal turmoil you were facing. Bidding them goodbye, you followed Max out of the paddock and into the car he had rented for the weekend. The car ride was silent as well as the elevator ride up to your floor.

Max followed close behind you as you made your way to your room and it was starting to irritate you.

"You don't need to walk me to my room Max," you said and he looked at your sheepishly.

"I'm in the one right next to you."

"Are you fucking serious?" You asked frustrated. "I need space Max!"

"I just want you to be safe," he defended and you rolled your eyes.

"From what?" You exclaimed. "Oh yeah, your girlfriend I mean ex-girlfriend is from here. Think she's sending people after me?"

"I don't think that's funny," he said, eyes darkening. "Sue me for wanting you close to me. I'm not going to apologize for that."

"You are the worst," you bit out before shoving into your room, slamming the door.

---------------------------------------

Stepping out of the steaming shower and back into the bedroom you glanced worriedly out the window. You wouldn't necessarily say that you had a fear of thunderstorms but they tended to make you uneasy.

Trying to distract yourself you put on South Park, your favorite show to watch in a hotel, but it didn't work. After a couple of booms you were still on edge. Sighing you got up and left your room, hoping a small walk around the hotel would ease your mind. By the time you made it back, Max was leaning against the wall by your door, waiting for you.

"Can't sleep?" He asked and you nodded.

"The storms."

"You always were scared of them," he teased and you scoffed.

"I'm not scared of them!" Right as you said that, a streak of lighting flashed by the hallway's window followed by a loud crash of thunder. You jumped a little and Max smirked.

"Come on," he said gesturing back to his room. You hesitated and he sighed. "We both know you won't fall asleep alone to this."

Giving in, you followed him into his room. It was a carbon copy of yours and you were amused to see South Park playing on his tv. He climbed into his bed but you stopped short; the scene in front of you reminded you of so many times before. When you traveled with him back in the day you'd often find yourself in his room at night hanging out. You always fell asleep and woke up in his arms, neither of you ever saying anything about it.

Max sat up in the bed looking at you, he knew what you were thinking.

"Y/n," he said softly as he watched you wipe a tear from your eye.

"This is so hard Max," you said, voice breaking. "How am I supposed to just forget?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I'm sorry."

"It's not even like you broke my heart that day," you said meeting his eyes. "You had chipped away at it for so long that there wasn't even anything left to break."

Max's heart dropped and he moved over closer to where you were standing, so that you were now eye level.

"I was so scared back then y/n," he said and you put your head into your hands. "So scared of failing that I did things I shouldn't have done, like pushing you away to protect myself."

"Protect yourself from what?" You said, looking back at him.

"Your unconditional love," he said sadly and you tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

"You acted like nothing happened, I watched you move on with your life," you accused, whispering to him.

"I did not move on, I was a mess. I couldn't eat or sleep for months and I latched on to you in whatever way I could through your videos or podcast. Every picture or video you saw of me was strictly PR."

"But you never reached out, not once in these past few years," you said, starting to grow angry with him.

"Neither did you!" He exclaimed.

"That's not fair Max," you retorted, moving away from him.

"Isn't it though? You accused me of moving on but I watched you do the same. I watched your popularity grow, watched you start to travel around the world, watched you post with other guys. You didn't need me to be happy."

"I needed my best friend!" You yelled and he flinched. "I needed you to be there to call when I got a new deal! I needed you to be there to lean on when I had self doubt! You ruined everything Max. I could never be truly happy celebrating something because in the back of my mind I was thinking about how you should have been there with me!"

Max squeezed his eyes shut, sitting down on the bed.

"I don't know how to fix this schatje," he whispered and you flinched at the term of endearment. "Everything has been so dark for so long. I am okay with you hating me forever. Because even if you just look at me, it'll be a better day than what I've had."

Sniffling, you stared into his red rimmed eyes. "I want to forget about you so badly Max but I can't."

He smiled softly at you before patting the bed.

"Please sleep here tonight, it will make me feel so much better knowing you were well rested. I'll sleep on the pull out couch," he said standing up.

"Just sleep in the bed with me," you said sighing, wiping the tears from your face before climbing into the bed. Max slid in next to you, leaving a healthy distance between the two of you and you drifted off to sleep.

The sound of his alarm woke you up at 4:30 and you groaned sleepily. Max's arms were wrapped tightly around you, his head buried in your hair as he refused to open his eyes.

"Max, you have to wake up," you said and he mumbled incoherently into you. You pried his hands off your body and stood up, stretching. He watched you lazily from the bed, wondering if this was a dream.

"I'm going to go get ready and then I'll meet you back in the hallway in 30 minutes okay?" You asked him and he nodded. Leaving his room you headed back into yours to get ready for the day. Your eyes were still a little swollen from last night but that was nothing a little makeup couldn't fix.

Pairing the new RedBull jacket with a black jeans you gathered all your stuff before texting Carmen about what had happened last night. All she responded was that we would discuss it in person and sent a winky face.

Max looked more awake standing out in the hallway and you both left for the track.

Qualifying was a mess to put it simply. Crash after crash after crash. It was spiking your anxiety to watch and you were just praying that Max would make it out unscathed. He did make it without crashing, but not without controversy.

You grew furious as you watched everyone in Q2 get to finish their laps following Lance's crash except for Max and Esteban. This made him miss out on Q3 for the first time in forever. You knew he was pissed when he got out of the car and his eyes met yours for a brief second. He talked to his engineers before grabbing your hand to drag you with him to over where he had to do interviews.

Standing behind the reporter you watched him try to contain his anger.

“If a guy goes straight into the wall, it is a straight red,” he said. “I don't understand why you need to take 30, 40 seconds for a red flag to come out...”

His voice was rising as he said it and both you and the reporter braced for the impact of whatever he was going to say next. He started to say something but then looked over at you and stopped himself, taking a deep breath before waving off the question.

“I don’t care in all honesty, it is so stupid to talk about. It’s ridiculous.”

He answered a couple more questions about the race happening later and you waited patiently. Christian came to join you and gave you a knowing look.

"I told you that being here would make things better," he said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm giving you credit for him avoiding more community service."

Things got even better after that with Max winning the Grand Prix in what you could only describe as a complete masterclass.

As the celebrations wrapped up, you and Max found yourselves alone in the quiet of the garage, both still processing the day's whirlwind. He glanced at you, a hesitant warmth in his gaze.

Max reached for your hand, gently holding it, as if afraid you'd slip away again. "I'm glad you came, I've needed you here for a long time."

"I'm still not sure where we stand Max," you said unsure of how to deal with what you were feeling.

"As long as your standing next to me, I'll be okay," he said cheekily and you smiled. You knew that your relationship had a long way to go but maybe, just maybe, it was finally starting again.

pt. 3

[rottiens]

stay longer in me, | satoru gōjō

summary. desperation to be recognized by your brother may lead you to take decisions that you could regret.

tags. (18+), dark content. stepcest / incest, canon au, breeding kink, lactation kink, afab reader, pregnancy discussions, hints of gojo being attracted to his mother (yeah.. sorry). divider creds: cafekitsune.

wc. 2.4k

You know that Satoru has never looked at you as another member of the Gojo clan. He has never seen you as a sister, but as the mistake his mother made that they must pretend to be proud of while trying to hide the truth as if it were possible to cover the sun with a finger.

Since you became aware of the world around you, you realized how close Satoru and his father were. The fact that he did not tolerate you was for you a sign of loyalty. You took it on and accepted it, even if deep down it hurt, without questioning your mother's actions, even if it cost you.

Even though all this was going on in your mind and no one ever verbalized how wrong it was that a bastard daughter of the leader of one of the most important clans was living there with them under the same roof as their only legitimate son, their looks of contempt and pursed lips said it all. None of them needed to speak for you to know what they were saying behind your back: the murmurs, the gestures, and the obvious contrast of the color of your hair compared to your parents' spoke louder than words. You understood that you were not his father's daughter without needing to ask.

It's not like you really needed his validation, but Satoru, being your brother especially, you expected more from him. More understanding. You expected to feel exonerated of all blame for a mistake that wasn't even yours, but his look of indifference and superiority told you everything you needed to know: he didn't like you.

As time went on and he had more responsibilities, Satoru stopped visiting the clan frequently and spent more time at school. You heard about his missions and adventures, and despite everything, you were proud of him and what he was accomplishing. After all, you could always see him once a year at the clan's celebratory anniversary.

“Hey.” Your body bows in a curtsy at the sight of him, but he undoes the gesture with a wave of his hand before you can lower your back any further. “Stop that. Come here, let me look at you.”

The kind tone confuses you; you think Satoru can see it on your face by the way a lopsided smile quivers. This attitude is new and leaves you intrigued; he never addresses you or pays attention to you.

You take a step closer to the front, hands still hidden in the light blue kimono, much like his own, and Satoru glances at you.

“Look at you, you're taller.”

Satoru places a hand on your head and pats it in small strokes, flashing you a smile that intrigues you. Despite his technique, he decides to turn off his infinity to touch you directly.

“I think you look the same way.” Maybe a little bigger, you can notice it even under the fabric of the kimono, but you'd rather not make the comment to him.

Satoru keeps his hand to the side of his body and watches you a little longer before leaning towards you as if examining you.

“So you're in marriage season, hm?”

You can't deny the surprise that comes over you when he comments; you didn't know he was aware of it.

“Yes.” You nod.

“Have you met him yet?”

“He's a blond man, about your height.”

You make a gesture with your hand indicating the height of his shoulders.

Satoru shakes his head in approval, “Let's go to the tea room, you can tell me all about it there.” And then walks towards you, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you to walk with him down the hallway. You let him guide you with his invisible hand without touching your body, as if you don't know the places in your own home.

The room you arrive in is decorated in traditional Japanese style, with a low table on the floor. On the table, cups of tea and a teapot sit, emitting a comforting aroma that fills the room with a sense of warmth.

Satoru sits next to you cross-legged and pours tea into both cups without asking how much you want to drink. As you watch in silence, you can't help but feel incredulous.

“Why?” Satoru brings the cup to his lips and doesn't look at you as he swallows, giving you time to ponder the question you filled the room with. “It's strange that you're being so nice now.”

He holds back a smile and lowers the cup to the table before looking at you with a relaxed expression.

“You don't trust your older brother's actions?”

No, you want to answer, but your lips seal as you process the words you'll say next.

“You've never acted like this before with me and I want to know why, what changed now.”

Satoru averts his gaze to the window facing outside. Through it, a quiet garden can be seen, adorned with small lanterns softly illuminating the scenery. The afternoon sun filters through the leaves of the trees, creating a play of dancing shadows on the tatami floor of the room.

“It was for your own good, for mine even.” You haven't touched the cup, intrigued by every new word that comes from his tea-stained lips.

“You're just like her.”

“Her?”

“My mother.” My. Not ours. You don't recognize what's in his tone: contempt, possession, spite. Yet you keep probing.

“What's that got to do with anything.”

“When I saw you, I saw her, and it was hard not to think about what she did. I didn't mean for you to feel like I hated you, because I don't.”

Satoru stops looking out the window to turn his gaze to you. In the evening light, he is fully exposed to the orange rays that bathe the details of his face: scarred jaw and naked blue eyes glowing under the brightness.

Unable to maintain eye contact any longer, you pick up the cup and take a sip. The herbal tea burns your tongue a little, but you decide to take another sip anyway.

“So you're going to be a family woman soon… Do you want to have children?” you hear him ask and you don't look at him, you lose yourself in the wavy dance the infusion does as you set the cup down on the table.

“I'm not sure, though the clan is definitely going to want me to have them,” you laugh bitterly smoothing non-existent wrinkles in your kimono. Then you lift your head and see him look at you with concern, a slight frown that is barely noticeable before he reverts to his usual stoic state where you don't know what's going through his head.

“Of course,” he replies ever so plaintively.

“You?” the word comes out of your mouth out of politeness more than anything else, eager to share and further elongate an encounter with your brother that never happened when you were younger.

Satoru cooes, glancing you up and down to conclude with a grimace that mimics a smile.

“I think I'm more interested in the process.”

“The process?” your eyes widen. You internally debate in taking more of the little tea left in the cup or pretending you weren't taken by surprise by what he said.

“Sex.”

“I know exactly what you meant.”

“Is it a subject that makes you uncomfortable?” Satoru insists as you look hesitant to pick up the cup, it shakes a little in your fingers before you finish it all in one gulp and set it back down on the surface with a clink of the ceramic meeting the wood.

“No.”

“Then, what's the problem?” Satoru examines your reaction, his eyes narrowing briefly in your direction and the corners of his mouth crinkling slightly.

“None.”

“Then you're not a virgin?”

“Satoru.”

He smiles now, not with his teeth. The corners of his mouth blur from the straight line he keeps whenever you're together and for the first time you get a flash of the Satoru Gojo you hear rumors of. Relaxed, funny, annoying, flirty.

“So you are, I really had my doubts.” He shrugs softly. You notice his finger outlining the rim of the cup in lazy circles. “More tea?” The question is more of a polite one, as he doesn't wait for you to answer before filling it a second time.

“I don't think it's appropriate to discuss this with you.”

“Why? I'm your big brother.” You lick dry lips and notice the hot steam rising from the infusion and brushing against his skin protected by his Infinity. You notice his long fingers around the teapot and the few veins protruding from the back of his pale hand.

“That's exactly why.” You pick up the thread of conversion that bubbles to the rhythm in which the tea finds the cup.

“Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“I don't have to answer that.”

You're purposefully avoiding his gaze now. Too hot inside to maintain eye contact.

“Come on. Don't be a coward, I'll tell you if I have too.”

“I know you have.” You dare to look at him and you swear his eyes are looking past you, the deep sky blue in his eyes seems to consume you completely, it makes you feel smaller than him and you force your hands to stay still on your knees and not run to hug your own chest.

“How do you know?”

“I've heard the rumors.”

“So I'm popular then,” Satoru laughs sarcastically under his breath and picks up the cup.

“I did kiss someone,” you confess spontaneously, and Satoru starts to pay more attention.

“Our parents don't count.” Your mouth opens reproachfully. “I'm talking about a real kiss, on the lips.” You remain silent, your lower lip trembles a little, and you soothe it by chewing it with your teeth. “Oh I knew it. Come closer,” satoru gently pats his crossed legs. “Into my lap.”

“I don't think we…” maybe you weren't sure about a lot of things but, you know and you got the feeling that this wasn't right. The conversion to where it was directed, the knot in your stomach, your wet hands were witness to that.

“I just want to see something up close,” he whispers, but despite the shiver that runs down your back, there is something in his gaze that draws you in: the recognition and, to some extent, the attention you always craved from him.

You glide across the wooden floor like an obedient pet, approaching him with your cursed energy gushing out of you. With his help, you position yourself better on his lap.

At first, his hands are hidden, out of your sight. Gradually you feel them on your waist, then on your hips, stopping finally at your ribs, where your breath hitches. You try to ignore his stare, but it's unavoidable. His right hand slides up, between your ribs and your chest, stopping gently on your chin, forcing you to look at him.

With his thumb, he pulls your lower lip apart, revealing a fleeting flash of your teeth. You hesitate between looking into his eyes or staring at his mouth. The thought of kissing him crosses your mind briefly, but guilt hits you hard, making you dizzy for an instant.

Satoru strokes your lip gently, and before you can process it, he leans over you and kisses you. At first, he holds still, feeling you tremble beneath him, letting what just happened sink into your chest- you have the option to pull away and run but as you remain still he a few seconds later deepens the kiss, exploring every corner of your mouth curiously. His tongue ventures deeper, tasting the herbs still lingering on your tongue.

The hand on your chin prevents you from moving, keeping you trapped in his eyes as he pulls away. Though you wish to hide your face, he holds you there, under his dominance.

“You have such soft lips. And these beautiful tits…” he says, looking down between the slit he formed between the kimono's folds. Your chin is free again after he moves down your throat and stands still on your chest, carefully spreading more of the fabric on either side and your bare chest is at his disposal. “They are beautiful.”

You run from his eyes even though they are not looking at you. Your nipples react to his words and your skin bristles at the thought that he might touch them. Through the Infinity as a barrier Satoru cradles your breasts and something shimmers in his eyes as he lifts them to you.

“I want to suck them.” His eyelashes flutter. You nod, still hesitantly.

When his lips touch you he purrs with satisfaction, you seek to justify your guilt by thinking there is nothing wrong with this. Perhaps, even, the connection between you will grow even stronger after this moment. Satoru grabs your breast from underneath with a large, firm hand, pulling it into his mouth greedily, savoring every inch with his expert tongue and teeth. In the distance, you can hear the distant murmur of clan members, reminding you that they could approach the tea room at any moment.

Alarmed, you look over his head to the door and as you return you catch him looking up at you from below with his tongue flat on a sensitive, hardened nipple. “So so sweet,” he muses. “And they'll be full of milk one day, oh your husband is so lucky.”

You inhale deeply, feeling the air cool your brain. Your body tingles with shivers, and your thighs feel uncomfortably tight on his. Soon, your hips are desperately searching for something to roll over, releasing some of the pent-up heat.

With teary eyes, you plead to him, and he grants you one last suck before pulling away with a popping sound, only to turn his technique back on once more. Satoru wipes the corner of his lips with his thumb, a mischievous smile playing across his face.

“Really fucking sweet,” he repeats, with an even wider grin. “Will you let me do it any time I want?” The rush of adrenaline, coupled with your own thoughts, prevents you from hearing what he says next, but still, you nod. “Even when you're married? Will you let me suck them as much as I want?” he asks with a defiant tone.

Before you can answer, the sound of rapid footsteps on the wooden floor approaches from outside. You hurry to get up from his lap and arrange your attire as you make your way to the window, trying to buy time and improve the appearance of your kimono while looking out over the garden.

Satoru remains motionless on the floor, taking another sip of tea when your father enters the room. You bow in reverence, but are completely ignored as your father welcomes his son home.

[writer-logbook]

5 tips for proofreading & their pros and cons

Define your objectives for each chapter. In my case, some of my chapters are better written than others. My objectives for them will differ. Before starting my proofreading, I list my needs and areas of improvements, and I write them down somewhere so I have them in front of me rather than in my head alone.

Pros : allows you to know which points you need to focus on ; provides a guideline adapted to your needs.

Cons : risk of losing homogeneity and fluidity + flaws may be shifted to other chapters that didn't have them before due to a sudden imbalance.

Plan several proofreading sessions, each one of them addressing ONE NEED AT A TIME. (E.g., one for grammar, another for style, and a final one for coherence. ) And I insist on the "one need at a time" part. Even for those who can multitask (unlike me), I really don't recommend settling for a single proofreading session. It could interfere with your concentration and let you skip some flaws. And please, always give your chapter a final read after your edits to ensure that the elements make sense as a whole, and are not repeated every two paragraphs (I plead guilty, your honor)

Pros: allows you to focus precisely on each point, and give it dedicated attention.

Cons: you can quickly get confused and risk multiple re-readings + significant time investment.

I make my corrections on a separate file. Whatever you do, it's always better to have a backup and therefore to save your files (don't blindly trust autosave) to create archives. I think it's a two-ways process : 1) you open two files simultaneously, one with your V1 and one, blank, where you'll rewrite your chapter as you make changes. Eventually, this new doc will become your V2 ; 2) you copy the parts to proofread into a new document and edit directly in there.

Pros: allows you to rewrite as you wish without being discouraged by the following paragraphs - especially in case of the first way.

Cons: requires multiple files (maybe multiple screens to be at ease) and better organization.

Change the typography. I don't know about you, but after a while, I'm struck by semantic satiation (click on the link - it's Wikipedia -, it's very interesting) and nothing makes sense anymore. After the 52,846th proofreading, I might as well read in another language. I've found a relatively effective trick - not as effective as a complete break, but sometimes you need to move forward - which consists of changing the typography. I can't remember who gave me this advice though, but be sure they've been thanked more than enough in my mind. In any case, seeing words change their shape significantly helps my brain to stay focused and attentive. (Maybe it's just my mind playing tricks on me but I only see the results.)

Pros: it's simple to implement.

Cons: I don't know if this trick works for everyone or if I'm the only weirdo (you can tell me in the comment section).

Take notes. This is a very personal tip but I keep a proofreading logbook. Like, I record in a few sentences the first time an element is mentioned, how it's describes, and most importantly… I MENTION THE DATES. The story I'm currently writing is heavily governed by a chronological system, so I have an absolute need to keep the day count up to date.

Pros: helps avoid inconsistencies and oversights.

Cons: very tedious to maintain and creates (a lot) of extra work.

I've started my prooreading journey yesterday and I already want to die. If I find in the edits something that is worth making a post, be sure that I will. Or let me know if you're simply curious.

Gentle reminder : Best is the worst enemy of good so, at some point, you'll have to let it go and let your chapter live its life to its fullest. Don't be hard on yourself and be proud of your work - or know that I am.

[sluglore]

Some Thoughts on Karma, the Natural Journey of Ascension, and Why the Ancients/Benefactors were Kind of Wrong

I'd like to address the community-wide misconception that you can only gain karma through "shedding your urges" when both in game and within the text of the game, we see this isn't true! the whole "shedding urges in order to ascend" stuff was only really a thing before the void fluid revolution, as Moon states in the bright red farm arrays pearl. The discovery of void fluid entirely trivialized needing to completely shed your urges by providing a much more natural method of ascension, and we see this play out within Rain World's story and gameplay.

In-game, we gain karma by directly engaging with our urges, whether it be sustaining our hunger, holding treasured items close or just survival in itself. From the beginning we are deeply ensnared within the struggles of living, "caught in the net" as the ancients/benefactors say. However, over the course of our gameplay, (I'm using survivor as a baseline, since their campaign illustrates the core of this) as we learn and grow and become more knowledged, living becomes easier, the struggle is not as harsh as it was before, and surely but slowly we die less and less as time goes on.

Simultaneously, this is reflected in our karma, as by dying less, we now hold higher karma more frequently. This coincides with the natural gameplay loop of rain world; the more we explore and learn new things, the more we grow and learn about the world and our place within it, we tread further and further away from the struggles of life, and become closer to enlightenment.

Ascension is the natural culmination of this journey of enlightenment, the next step on the path beyond. It's not inherently the right or wrong choice to make, its a step into the unknown, in search of something greater, of answers to our own existence, true spiritual self-fulfillment. This is how the ancients/benefactors saw it, but you could say they still got parts of it pretty wrong...

This is treading more into personal headcanon territory now, so bear with me, but I believe the issue lies within the great problem that the ancients built the iterators to solve. They wanted to find a means of evicting all life, material, the entire world from the cycles entirely, eliminating the personal struggle tied to ascension, taking away the choice and the journey that are so unbelievably crucial to it. This is also why I personally believe that a solution to the great problem doesn't or can't exist, as it would go against the fabric of their universe, from which the cycles are built upon. (LTTM describes the group behind this ideology as "triangulators"; they believed a solution was dangerous and had to be inferred rather than solved)

Ironically, in their desire to become effortless, by creating the iterators to make living easier, and to detach themselves from the struggles of the cycles, (just as we do within our own journey to ascension as the slugcat) this could also only be achieved through massive effort, so they even weren't truly "effortless" in the end, as nothing can be. Of course though, the few echoes in-game demonstrate that same ideology slipping through. Those ancients/benefactors became echoes because they hadn't experienced the personal journey paramount to ascension, or maybe they just didn't want to leave, but regardless, they weren't able to let go of their place in the universe and move on, and thus, they stayed behind.

TLDR: The ancients/benefactors were wrong about ascension because as a society they didn't fully recognize how important personal struggle, journey, and choice is for ascension, and sought to remove that struggle entirely.

[st4rfckerz]

The Serpent and The Lamb | Priest!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: dddne, religious themes, infidelity, masturbation (f), oral sex (m), unprotected sex, praise, aftercare, not proofread

summary: Your family’s beloved priest suggests at home tutoring to help you with your bible studies.

The weeks since that encounter with Father Anakin had been a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you feeling conflicted and guilty. But you had promised him, and you couldn't break that trust. He continues to be your trusted priest, guiding you through your faith, but there's a new layer of understanding between you. Every touch, every whispered word, carries a heavier weight, a promise of more to come. You try to fight it, but the attraction is too strong, too consuming.

As you sit at dinner with your family, you couldn't help but think back to the last time you saw him. The memory still sent shivers down your spine, even though you knew it was wrong. You glanced around the table, watching your family enjoy their meal, before bringing your attention back to the food in front of you, forcing a smile onto your lips.

Your father cleared his throat, taking a sip from his glass of water. “So, I spoke to Father Anakin today,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “He was asking about you, sweetheart. Seems he missed your presence at church this past Sunday.”

“Oh?” you squeak trying to keep your voice casual, hoping your nerves didn't show. Last Sunday, instead of attending church as usual, you stayed home, tucked away in bed with a small cold. Your mom chimed in, recounting their brief conversation. “He asked how you were doing and expressed his concern for your well-being,” she said with a warm smile. “He truly cares for you, dear.”

“I appreciate his concern.” you replied, your voice steady despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Thoughts swarmed in your mind like bees to honey, questioning Anakin's motives for asking about you. Was it genuine concern? Or was there another reason behind his inquiries? A part of you couldn't help but wonder if he was as affected by your encounter as you were.

Upon hearing that you'll be attending church with them tomorrow, a pang of guilt hit you, knowing that your secret affair with Anakin was far from what God intended. You prayed silently, asking for forgiveness and guidance, seeking clarity on your path forward. Deep down, you longed for Anakin's touch again, craving the lust that had consumed you, while fearing the consequences it may bring.

The following day, you found yourself standing outside the church, heart racing in anticipation of seeing Anakin again. As you walked through the doors with your family, your eyes scanned the familiar surroundings, searching for a glimpse of his imposing figure. Anakin and his wife, Padme, approached you and your family, a serene smile playing at the corners of his lips, his eyes locking onto yours for a brief moment.

“Hello, Ma’am,” he greeted, extending a hand towards your mother. “How are you this lovely morning?” He turned to your dad next, shaking his hand firmly, the two men exchanging pleasantries while you stood nearby, trying to remain inconspicuous. Throughout their conversation, Anakin's gaze kept drifting back to you, a kind expression etched on his face that belied the intensity of their previous encounters. It was as if they were playing two different roles, one public and one private - a dangerous game of cat and mouse.

Anakin's gaze turned towards you, his eyes softening with concern. "And how is our little church mouse doing?" he asked, addressing you directly, a tender smile playing on his lips. "We missed you last week."

Your cheeks flushed pink, heart racing in response to his words, and you nervously fidgeted with the small, silver cross necklace perched on your chest. "I’m well, thank you for asking," you managed to respond, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your voice.

Anakin turned to your dad again, adding, “Now that you’re here I should mention that we’ve started providing extra guidance to some of the younger parishioners. If you ever need help with the Bible, please feel free to have them reach out to me. Our home is always open for such discussions.” Your dad nodded appreciatively and nudged your arm with his elbow.

“It might be a good idea, dear.” Your dad nodded in agreement, adding that it would allow you more time with Anakin, which would benefit you spiritually. Anakin and Padmé walked away, their conversation seemingly innocuous, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy seeing them together. However, you quickly pushed it aside, and sat with your family to listen to today's sermon. Anakin began to speak, his words resonating through the hallowed halls, reminding you of the divine presence that should guide your life.

You knelt down to pray, your mind was flooded with images of Anakin, the serpent in the garden of your faith; his touch, his voice, and the intense feelings he evoked within you. The sacred space of the church seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its silent judgment as you struggled to focus on the words of prayer. Your heart raced, your breaths became shallow, and the line between your reality and fantasy blurred, threatening to drown you in a sea of forbidden desires and hidden sins. The holy water of the baptism seemed to lose its sanctity, tainted by the impurities of your thoughts, and you swear the cross of the rosary you held onto felt just as hot as your insides, like a branding iron searing its mark onto your palm. In the quietude of the church, enveloped by the scent of incense and the whispers of penance, you found yourself drowning in the whirlpool of your own transgressions, desperately seeking salvation in the arms of the man who had led you astray.

Confession time arrived, the somber atmosphere of the church amplifying the heaviness of the act. You stood in line, heart pounding in your chest, as you waited for your turn to enter the confessional. The dimly lit booth loomed ahead. Your palms felt clammy and your hands quivered slightly, as you tried to prepare yourself for the upcoming confrontation. Each person ahead of you seemed to move in slow motion, the minutes ticking by like hours, stretching the moment into an eternity.

You finally reach the confessional booth and sit on the little bench, the partition separating you from Father Anakin feeling as thin as gossamer. The dim light flickered, casting eerie shadows across the wooden walls, as if mocking your impending reckoning.

“Father, it’s me.” you whisper. You could hear his soft chuckle on the other side, his soothing words resonating through the screen that served as a link between you and him.

“Oh hello little lamb, I was waiting for you,” Anakin's voice resonated through the dimly lit confessional, his tone a swirl of kindness and authority, a perfect blend that had lured you in from the very beginning. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible, struggling to keep the tremors at bay. “I don’t have any confessions today.”

Anakin's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "Are you sure?" he asked gently, his tone inquiring but also cautious.

“Well, I wanted to talk about the last time I was here.” you explained. Anakin leans in more towards the screen, and his voice drops down an octave.

“We can’t talk about this here, I’m running out of time,” he said, his words carrying a warning. “Listen, tell your parents that I’m having a session tomorrow at my house and we can talk there okay?” Anakin brings his hand up to the mesh screen and you brought your own hand up to meet his. The contact, fleeting as it was, sent a jolt through you and electrified your senses.

“2:30 tomorrow little lamb. Be there.” a hint of a smile played at the corners of Anakin's lips, a silent acknowledgement of your gesture, a promise of something more that lay beyond the confines of the church.

As you approached your parents, you could feel the weight of your lie pressing down on you, the guilt threatening to consume you. You forced a smile onto your lips, your voice steady as you spoke. "Father Anakin has invited me to his home tomorrow to review the Bible and discuss some aspects of our faith," you explained, your eyes darting between your mom and dad. "He believes it would be beneficial for me spiritually." Your heart raced as you awaited their response, praying that they would accept your explanation without suspicion.

Your mom nodded, her face reflecting concern but also curiosity. "That sounds like a good opportunity, dear. Just make sure you keep us informed." Your dad, ever the protector, added, "We trust Father Anakin, but we also want you to be safe. Make sure you let us know when you arrive and when you leave, okay?" You nodded, grateful for their trust, even as you knew you were leading them down a dangerous path. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, the clock ticking down the minutes until you could flee to Anakin's embrace, the illicit thrill of your secret affair coursing through your veins.

౨ৎ

Later that night, you relentlessly tossed and turned in your bed, your mind consumed by thoughts of your family’s beloved priest. His touch, his voice, his intense gaze - each memory was a sharp blade, slicing through the layers of your deception, exposing your deepest desires.

The intensity of your feelings took you by surprise, the arousal coursing through your veins like fire. The sensation of your flesh against your fingertips caused prickly goosebumps to appear all over your arms and thighs as your fingers sank into your pajama shorts. A soft moan slipped past your lips as your fingers danced around your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. your fingers delved deep inside your aching cunt, your breaths became ragged and your body trembles with force.

You struggled to stifle your sweet moans, the sound of your surrender echoing in the silence of your room. Your orgasm was sudden, powerful, washing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and spent. The intensity of your climax had left you drenched in sweat, your body trembling with the aftershocks of your transgression.You laid still and stared up at your ceiling. your body still throbbing with pleasure, you knew that the price of your sin was a heavy burden, one that only Anakin could ease - at least for a moment, in the safety of his arms.

As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts were consumed by the anticipation of tomorrow, the thrill of your secret rendezvous with Anakin.

౨ৎ

Through the hushed streets, you walked towards Anakin's home, the anticipation of your secret meeting thrumming in your veins. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows that danced along the cobblestone paths. The temptation of the forbidden fruit was too sweet to resist, the pull of Anakin's darkness too strong. The confessional's warning seemed like a distant memory, the allure of your illicit acts were like a siren's song that called to you from within the walls of his home.

After knocking a few times on the big door decorated with a plaque reading ‘Skywalkers’ the door creaks open and Anakin stands there in the threshold, his eyes locking onto yours. “There you are, I wasn’t sure you’d show,” he greeted, his voice a blend of charm and command. “Come in, come in.” He beckoned you inside.

You stepped into Anakin's home, you couldn't help but notice the opulence that surrounded you. The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries, the floors polished to a high shine. Your eyes roamed the room, taking in the grandeur of his sanctuary. A large stone fireplace dominated one wall, the flames crackling softly, casting a warm glow over the room. A plush sofa sat before the fire, inviting you to relax and surrender to the comfort it offered.

Anakin's voice was low and soothing as he guided you towards the plush sofa. “Please, sit down,” he urged, his eyes never leaving yours. “We have much to discuss, and I want you to feel comfortable.” As you settled onto the cushions, he took a seat beside you, his body radiating warmth. “I've taken the liberty of ensuring we are alone today. Padmé is not here to disturb us.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, the implication clear. You sat down on the sofa, the soft cushions enveloping you in comfort.

“Are you ready to learn?” Anakin's question hung in the air, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you feel like you were the only person in the world. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a slight confusion creep in. The Bible? What happened to the real reason why you were here? You forced a smile onto your face, trying to hide your confusion. “Oh, yes,” you said, your voice steady. “I'd love to discuss the Bible with you.” Anakin's face lit up with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Excellent,” he said, his voice filled with enthusiasm. “Let's dive right in, then.”

Anakin opened his Bible, the leather-bound book creaking softly as he flipped through its pages. “Let us discuss the nature of our relationship with God,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “In the book of Matthew, Chapter 22, verse 37, Jesus says, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’”

He looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “This is the greatest commandment, little dove. It is the foundation upon which all other relationships are built. But what does it truly mean to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sheepishly, not really knowing how to answer such a tainted question.

He closed the Bible, his gaze never leaving yours. “It means to surrender ourselves fully to Him, to trust in His will, and to obey His commands. It means to love Him more than anything else in this world, including ourselves.”

Anakin's eyes never left yours as he asked, “How do you communicate with God, little mouse? How do you express your love and devotion to Him?”

You felt a flutter in your chest, unsure of how to respond. You had always believed that prayer was the way to communicate with God, but Anakin's question made you realize that there was more to it than just speaking words. You looked down at your hands, feeling a sense of inadequacy. “I'm not sure,” you admitted. “I've always thought that prayer was the way to communicate with God, but I've never really felt like He's listening.”

Anakin's expression softened, his voice taking on a gentle tone.

“Why don’t you show me how you pray?”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you obeyed, getting down on your knees before him. Your hands clasped together, your eyes closed in reverence. You began to speak, your voice a soft whisper as you poured out your heart to God. But as you prayed, you became aware of Anakin's gaze upon you. You could feel his eyes burning into your skin, his presence intense and overwhelming. Your words faltered, and you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an unreadable expression. He reached out, his hand gently brushing against your cheek. “Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. “So beautiful.”

Anakin's thumb ran along your bottom lip, you felt a jolt of arousal shoot through your body. His touch was possessive, claiming you as his own. And when he slipped his thumb into your mouth, you felt a surge of desire wash over you. The taste of him was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but suck gently on his thumb, eager to taste more. Anakin's eyes gleamed with desire as he watched you, his thumb moving in and out of your mouth with a slow, deliberate pace. You could feel his power and control, and it only added to the thrill of the moment.

“Such a good girl.” he coos sweetly, he removes his thumb from your mouth and begins to rake his hand through your soft hair. As you gazed up at Anakin, your eyes landed on the bulge in his pants. Your heart raced with excitement as you reached out, your hand wrapping around his erection through the fabric. You could feel the heat emanating from him, and your palm began to move in slow, deliberate strokes.

“Can I help you Father?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He nodded slowly, his voice low and gravelly as he spoke. “Yes, please.”

You reached out, your fingers trembling slightly as you unclasped the metal buckle and pulled it through the loops. The belt fell to the ground with a soft thud.

The moment he released his hard cock from the confines of his boxers, it sprang free, standing tall in front of you. Your eyes locked onto it, your mouth watering.

“Do you know what you’re doing angel?” he asks cautiously. His pupils were completely blown, making his eyes seem dark and intimidating.

“I know enough.” you give him a shy smile.

Anakin's fingers tightened in your hair, urging you forward. You leaned in, your lips brushing against the head of his cock, before you took him into your mouth. Anakin's breath hitched, his hand gripping your head as you began to suck on him, your tongue swirling around his shaft with a slow, unhurried pace.

“You're doing so well, sweetheart.” He purrs, his hand stroked your hair, a soft caress that sent shivers down your spine. “You're a natural at this. I knew I could trust you.” Anakin's hips began to buck, his thrusts both desperate and controlled. He groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair. He quickly reached his peak, his hot seed spilling into your mouth.

“Swallow every drop, show me how devoted you are.” You swallowed eagerly, pleased to have brought him such satisfaction. As he pulled out of your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps, you looked up at him, adoration shining in your eyes.

Anakin pulled you in for a deep, carnal kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as he devoured you. The taste of him still lingered on your lips. Then he lifts you up, takes off your panties, and places you on his lap with your body curled up against his. He ran his fingers along your wet folds, his touch gentle yet electrifying. “Fuck, you drive me crazy.”

As you sat on Anakin's lap, you realized that this was the first time you had kissed him, your lips having only tasted him in another way. But in that moment, the line between the sacred and the profane blurred, the kiss a fusion of affection and the lingering taste of your sin.

The kiss broke and you looked deep into Anakin's eyes, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you Anakin.” you admitted boldly.

Anakin's beamed excitedly. “I want to see you do it this time, okay?” You hesitated, feeling a little shy, but Anakin's commanding gaze urged you on. “Don't be afraid, little lamb.” he reassured you, his voice a seductive growl. His words were a comfort, a balm for the guilt that nibbled at the edges of your conscience. You bit your lip, your confidence growing. You leaned forward, positioning yourself over his erection. Taking a deep breath, you slowly lowered yourself onto him, the sensation of his size and girth filling you. You gasped at the feeling of him inside you, the sensation both thrilling and overwhelming. He began to move in rhythm, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one driving deeper into you.

You looked into his eyes, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance. “There you go, you got it.” Anakin says breathlessly.

You and Anakin found a steady rhythm, your movements synchronized. You rode him with a newfound confidence, your body moving in a way that seemed both foreign and exhilarating.

Anakin's hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, a silent claim of ownership. “That’s my girl, taking cock like she was made for it.” he encouraged, his voice a low, commanding growl. “My big, strong girl.”

Your moans grew louder, your body responding to his words. You could feel the tension building within you, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable.

“Anakin,” you gasped, your voice tinged with desperation. “I n-need,”

He smiled, his eyes shimmering with a predatory intent. “What do you need, angel?” he asked, his voice a wicked whisper.

“Make me cum, please.” you panted, your body trembling with need.

“I got you sweet girl, let me hear you.” he ordered, his voice a low, commanding growl. You felt your body surrendering to your orgasm, the waves of ecstasy washing over you. You cried out his name as you came, your body shaking in his arms.

As you clung to him, your body still trembling, Anakin followed closely behind, his own release spilling into you. He groaned your name, his body shuddering as he found his own climax.

You collapsed onto his chest, your breaths coming in ragged gasps, Anakin wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

“I didn’t break you did I?” Anakin asks playfully as he runs his hands up and down your back.

“No, I’m fine.” you chuckle. Anakin's hands gently urged you to sit up on the couch cushion next to him, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Stay here one second.” he instructed, his voice a soft rumble. You remained in the living room while Anakin made his way to the bathroom, his body taut and powerful as he moved. You watched as he returned, a washcloth in hand, the steam from the warm water still clinging to the fabric. He approached you, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness.

“Lie back, angel,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble. “Let me take care of you.” Anakin knelt down in front of you, his hands gently wiping away the evidence of your sins. His movements were both tender and deliberate as he cleaned you up, his fingers tracing over your skin, lingering in places where he knew he could elicit a reaction. As he worked, his lips trailed kisses down your calf and along your inner thighs.

Once Anakin was satisfied that you were clean, he helped you put your panties back on, his hands lingering on your hips before withdrawing. “There, all clean now.” he murmured, his voice gentle as he smoothed down your skirt. He leans forward, his arms wrapping around you, his lips claiming yours in a tender kiss.

As you and Anakin shared a tender kiss, you heard the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock. You both froze, your hearts racing as the door slowly creaked open. Anakin quickly released you, his face a mask of calm as he turned to face whoever had entered the room. Padmé walked in, her smile bright and welcoming. She was completely oblivious to what had just taken place in the living room.

“Padme, honey,” he greeted her, his voice smooth and untroubled. “Did you have a nice day?”

Padme’s gaze shifted to you, her smile growing even wider. “Lovely to see you again,” she said, her voice filled with genuine happiness. “I trust the lesson was enlightening?”

You smiled weakly, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to regain your composure. “Yes, Padme, it was.” you answered, relief washing over you as the normalcy of the situation returned.

After a brief conversation, you excused yourself, claiming that you needed to head home. Anakin walked you to the door, his hand brushing against yours as he opened it for you. “See you soon, little lamb.” he whispered in your ear, his voice thick with promise. You gave him a small smile, your mind still reeling from the events that had just transpired.

As you left the house, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. The thrill of your transgression still coursed through your veins, mingling with the lingering guilt. But through it all, you couldn't deny the connection you had formed with Anakin. You walked home and the world around you seemed to blur, your thoughts filled with the forbidden pleasures you had just experienced. You knew that you had crossed a line, one that would have far-reaching consequences.

But for now, all that mattered was the promise of more sinful delights to come, the weight of your sins growing heavier with each passing moment. You had given yourself to Anakin, both body and soul, and there was no turning back now.

[carbondioxidewater]

Make A Move (Pt. 5)

footballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst

warnings: none so far

word: 3.1

(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)

On sunday morning, you woke up early, even though you hadn't been sleeping much. The events of the previous day came back to you one after the other. First, you thought about the game and Sukuna's impressive skills in it.

You reflected on the motorcycle ride with him and how he drove you to the Rainbow Bridge just so you could see the city at night. That must've been one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you. You turned over on your side in your bed, smiling.

And then you remembered how you almost kissed and how he treated you completely different later at the party than when you were alone. A feeling of embarrassment washed over you again at the thought that everyone present had noticed Sukuna not wanting to kiss you. Not that you were dying to feel his soft lips, probably salty from the sweat - no, that wasn't it. Because even if that were the case, it was more the fact of how and why he rejected you that was bothering you.

But asking him was out of the question. After all, you still had enough pride left to not give him that pleasure. After all, he wasn't obliged to kiss you. You shouldn't let anything show, otherwise he might get the wrong idea. And with that mentality, you went to your first lecture on Monday.

After the lecture, you entered the cafeteria. Today they cooked vegetarian pasta again and it always tasted delicious. You grabbed a plate, had it filled up, and walked over to the where the silverware was. As you were putting down your tray, someone spoke up directly from the side.

"I got your message, by the way."

You weren't startled this time.

"Did you know that people usually greet each other before starting a conversation?" you expressed calmly and Sukuna burst out laughing. You always managed to entertain him.

"Sorry, hi princess."

"Hi." you said quietly, a gloomy feeling at the nickname. "What message?"

"Yuji told me he should wish me 'good luck' from you."

"So?"

"Well, I certainly was lucky, after all you really came. But..." he didn't finish his sentence, obviously waiting for your reaction. Was he really trying to flirt with you again? This man was difficult.

You took your tray and moved towards one of the tables. Of course Sukuna followed you and sat down on the opposite chair. You sighed.

"But what, Sukuna? What do you want?" you asked in annoyance.

"You should give me your number. I couldn't even make sure you got home safe on Saturday." he flashed his shiny white teeth at you.

"Why do you care? I went home with my friends." you said, but not snippy, more in a neutral tone.

"I know that." he simply returned and didn't seem to have anything else to say. He just looked at you.

Seriously? He doesn't mention what happened at all? Well, if he can act like nothing happened, so can you.

"I don't like being watched while eating." you said bluntly and Sukuna couldn't help but smile.

"Why, are your table manners so terrible?" he countered. You puffed.

"Aren't you hungry?" you then asked, whereupon he told you that he had already eaten.

"I saw you and with you the opportunity."

"The opportunity for what?" you then questioned.

"Asking you for your number."

"You have my address already, that should be enough."

You would not let him get any closer to you.

He chuckled and you ate the first forkful of pasta.

"So you don't want to give it to me?" he carried on.

"Obviously not."

"Okay, I'll find a way. Oh, and enjoy your meal." he winked at you. And then he stood up and left the table.

Finally you could eat in peace.

You didn't see him for the next few days, which gave you enough time to concentrate on your studies. It was thursday evening and you had to give in your assignment for neurolinguistics, the due date was today. You quickly finished explaining how the priming effect works, when suddenly Utahime entered your room with the mail in her hand.

"Oh, are you finished for today already?" you asked, referring to her job, to which she nodded.

"But look at this!" she said, astonished, and waved a letter in front of your face.

The letter was addressed to you, but had no sender. Strange.

You opened it and the content was a single sheet of paper with a few lines written on it.

"You're right, your address is enough. If you don't want to give me your number, I'll have to try this way ;)"

Your face immediately heated up, you never thought he would go out of his way like that. But what was he doing that for? What was his ulterior motive?

Utahime saw your shocked face and read the letter. Then she laughed.

"Wow, he's really trying. Have you eaten yet? Should we order something?"

And together, you ended the evening with a juicy pizza.

But on the next day, you found a note in your locker too. You opened the folded paper and it said:

"Meet me under the bleachers"

Oh God, your heart was pounding. Just what was he thinking?

You decided to meet him at the stands to ask him to stop this whole thing. Even though you were really flattered by the attention, it still hurt your ego that he apparently thought he could win you over like that. Was it working? Maybe a little, but he didn't have to know that. And you definitely wouldn't fall for it any further.

When you finally got there, there was no sign of him. You asked the few players practicing on the field about him.

"Sukuna? No, he's not here. As far as I know he has a philosophy class right now."

Philosophy? You didn't even know that was his second subject. But that explained why he was around you so often, because philosophy and linguistics were taught in the same building. But why did he send you here then? Nothing he did made sense and you were slowly getting fed up with this chaos.

You were just on your way back into the building when all of a sudden, you bumped into someone's back on accident. He turned around and to your surprise, it was the menace himself.

"Careful." he laughed lightly. But you were a bit pissed at him right now and just walked past him. He walked after you.

"Hey, where are you going?" he yelled.

"I don't feel like playing your games. Find someone else to annoy." you said without even looking at him.

He grabbed your wrist and brought you to a stop. When you tried to escape his grip, he blocked you with his arm and caged you in.

"Calm down. What's going on with you?" Sukuna exclaimed.

"No, what's going on with you? Why do you leave those notes in my locker, arrange a meeting and then don't come?"

"That's what it is about?" He chuckled. "Now do you see how complicated it is? If I had your number, you would have known when I wrote the message."

You were flabbergasted, was that really his plan behind all this? To show you the need to exchange numbers?

"Or you can just write the time next time!" you spat out.

"Next time? So you like when I leave you letters?" he smirked and upset you with his presumptuous words.

"Don't twist my words..." you pouted and looked to the side. He let you go now, you had calmed down.

"Then what do you say: We have another game next Friday. If we win, I get your number, if we lose... well, you can choose."

"Why do you want my number so badly?" you probed.

"Because I like you. You're fun to be around."

This confession knocked you off balance, but you swallowed your speechlessness. In the end, two could play that game.

"Okay, if you lose, you'll never ask me for my number again." You smiled mischievously and he followed suit, tilting your chin upwards with his big hand before responding.

"It's settled then."

You stayed at Shoko's for the weekend, since you wanted to binge-watch the new season of your series. Utahime didn't like the show and had to work anyway, so it was just the two of you tonight.

After a few episodes, however, it turned into a deep talk session. You told Shoko everything that had happened with Sukuna so far and she reprimanded you for getting into this 'pact'.

"His team will win either way, the only ones who would have a chance against them are the UOT." she explained and you thought about her words.

UOT? Of course! They say their quarterback is on par with Sukuna. They are the biggest rivals!

"Are they gonna play against each other too?" you wondered.

"I think not until the very end of the season. That's the most important game after all."

The end of the season... So in about 8 weeks. But wait a minute...

"How do you even know that?" you stared at Shoko in amazement and she looked up at the ceiling.

"A few of my high school friends are on this team. Utahime knows them too."

"What? Why am I only finding out about this now?" you shifted in your seat, grinning at her. She shrugged.

"I never thought it was important. After all, you haven't been interested in football until now."

You nodded. Then your phone rang. You took it from the coffee table and saw that it was Utahime, but before you could even pick up, she already hung up.

"Who was it?" Shoko interrupted and you told her, but you two didn't think much of it.

You thought that maybe she called you on accident, so you sent her a message asking "are you okay?" and checked her location. She was still at the hotel. A few minutes later, she finally replied and confirmed that everything was indeed alright.

"Okay she just replied, she's fine. But next time we're all together, you two have to tell me more about your mysterious old friends." You waggled your eyebrows and Shoko laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, even if there's not really much to tell."

And then you were back in the stadium, this time, on your campus. It was a home game and the people on the stands were louder than at the last game, but this time you secured yourselves better seats. You were sitting in the front row now!

At the opening, all of the players walked onto the field and turned to the audience. Sukuna waved at the big crowd, his eyes moving from left to right, and finally rested his gaze on you, a small smirk spreading on his face. And then it was kickoff. As always, Sukuna's leading skills ensured a successful first half. It was clear that the team had been a unit for a long time, as well as they complemented each other.

After the first half, there was the usual break and you used it to quickly go use the bathroom. The line was long though, of course you weren't the only one who had to go after such a long time. But luckily, it quickly emptied and after you were done, the break was almost over. While the water was tingling on your hand, you heard a few girls coming in, chattering. You recognized the cheerleaders, one of them was the blonde girl named Manami.

"So, how are things going with Sukuna now?" asked Manami's friend.

At the mention of that name, you became very wary. You felt like you were eavesdropping, but you couldn't turn off your hearing sense after all.

"I think he likes me." Manami said the words dreamily, but you couldn't listen to their conversation any longer, because if you stayed at the sink for too long, you would attract their attention. You dried your hands and then went out the door.

What was their true relationship to each other? She thinks he likes her? What is he doing for her to think that? You had a weird gut feeling on your way back and when your friends noticed, they asked if you were okay. You lied to them and, thank goodness, that feeling disappeared as soon as the second half of the game started again.

And as Shoko predicted, your team won. The others weren't bad by any means, but Sukuna isn't feared in the world of football for nothing. He once again secured a great victory and after the game ended, his teammates all ran towards him to celebrate.

They picked him up and carried him to the front of the stands while you and the others clapped for their success. Many shouted his name, others shouted for the other players, but his grinning, smug look was only on you.

His comrades let him down and the crowd slowly started to leave the stands as Sukuna continued to keep you under his spell. He stepped on a bench in front of it, leaned his elbow on the railing of ​​the stands and pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He pressed it between his fingers proudly and held it in front of his slightly tilted face, a mischievous smile on it, so that you could make out the numbers on the note.

You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to see more clearly and as the digits became visible, you recognized them as your phone number.

How did he-

You were about to ask him that, but Aoi intervened, jumping onto the bench and putting his arm over Sukuna's shoulder, happily dragging him into the locker room.

When you finally came down the stairs, you decided to wait for Sukuna outside. Your friends were talking about something you didn't pay attention to.

Then the door opened and you walked towards Sukuna expectantly, but he was stopped by Manami at that moment. You saw her putting her arm around his and how she walked to the parking lot with him. That made you abandon the whole plan and you went back home with your girls.

When you got there, you got a message from an unknown number.

unknown number: not even curious how I got your number?

That was definitely Sukuna. Your mood immediately worsened. You just couldn't figure him out. You threw your phone on the bed and made yourself something to eat. Cooking should calm you down, so you put on some music and started chopping. It took half an hour before you got the motivation to text him back.

you: aren't you out with the cheerleader right now?

You sent the message and threw your phone away from you again. Why had you been so direct? You were about to take your phone to delete the message, but Sukuna had already replied.

unknown number: oh you're curious about something else I see. u stalking me? ;)

you: no, I just saw you two together after the game. hope you had fun.

unknown number: yea sure had.

you: good for you.

Somehow the message came across as more bitter than you anticipated, and Sukuna also noticed the harsh tone.

unknown number: wait, you weren't seriously thinking I was after you, were you?

you: of course not? I was being genuine.

You were not. He typed.

unknown number: well then, that's good.

And then you left him on read. Asshole.

The whole weekend was spent trying to figure Sukuna out, but as much as you tried, his motives remained unclear to you. You even started listing different possibilities together with Shoko and Utahime, but for every idea there was something in Sukuna's behaviour that didn't add up. You set up three theories:

REASON NUMBER ONE: He really just likes you platonically. But then why did he flirt with you sometimes, why did he almost kiss you, why did he put in such an effort into getting your number?

REASON NUMBER TWO: He was just trying to get into your pants. Maybe there was something going on with this girl, Manami, and he didn't want her to find out. But then why did he never make a move on you like that? Apart from the teasing, he's never been disrespectful or dirty towards you.

And, this was the most unlikely one, but,

REASON NUMBER THREE: He had a serious interest in you. But then, why wouldn't he just be straight forward? Why was this girl all over him at all times? And why didn't he do something against it? Or was he keeping the both of you as mere options?

Whatever it was, it was getting on your nerves. And you decided you wanted to make clear to him that the both of you should either be friends or nothing.

You were just taking a few things out of your locker when there was a sudden bang next to you. You took the last book out of it and then looked at the source.

"Boo." Sukuna called out, pressing his lower arm against the locker. He was wearing a simple white sweater with the sleeves rolled up, but it was so tight that it highlighted his broad, big chest. His hand was clenched into a fist, which meant that you had a perfect view of his flexing muscles as well.

You gulped and tried not to let on how attractive that was to you, because you couldn't afford to seem weak in front of him.

"Wow I'm so scared." you commented and closed your locker.

"I bet you are, now that I've got your number." he claimed. Then you faced him.

"Where did you get it from anyway?" you wondered. You still didn't have a single clue.

He smiled wickedly again.

"Why don't you ask your friend Utahime?"

Safe to say that's not what you expected coming out of his mouth.

"You're lying." you doubted.

"Why would I do that?" he replied with a foxy grin.

You took a deep breath.

"Alright, I'm gonna ask her later. But can we stop with the constant banter, it's giving me a headache."

"Oh, why's that?" he came closer, but you pushed him away again.

"It was fun in the beginning, but it's getting annoying now. Let's just be normal friends." you proposed.

"Friends?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow gently, considering your words and quirking a small smile. "You wanna befriend me?" he seemed oddly delighted about that. You didn't know if he was poking fun at you or not.

"Yeah, isn't that what you wanted?" you inquired, dumbfounded by his reaction.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Alright, let's be friends then." he stared down at you, a gleam in his eyes that you couldn't make out.

Yes, it would definitely be better to be friends. That way, he wouldn't constantly irritate you with his mixed signals.

And with that, your friendship with the star player began.

RAHHH he's so confusing!!! Wdym you send me LETTERS to contact me?!?!?! And then say you're not after me? ARGHHH

What do you think his intentions are? As always, reblogs and comments are so so appreciated! I wanna hear your thoughts about it so bad! <3

taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @mysteriaqueen @rebirthbunbun @inflatabledinosaurs19

[smusherina]

bridges burnt - chapter 2 [epilogue series] (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: When an invitation to Gretchen Wieners' wedding ended up in your mailbox, you'd been sure it was a mistake. Only, it read your name in neat, swoopy calligraphy. It was addressed to you. And Regina George, whom you hadn't spoken to in years.

additional clarification: This is set in the universe of yard work, a series of mine that can be found on my page! Reading this one might be a bit challenging without the context of the series :)

chapter 1 / chapter 3

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Your suit was still immaculate thanks to your incessant fiddling, adjusting, and pruning. If not for the gel wearing out in your hair and the sweat beading your brow, the illusion was almost believable. Your rings clinked against the sink's enamel, your silver accents glinting in the fluorescent lighting, while a person did their business in the stall behind you. You sighed and washed your hands.

Damn, the soap was nice. They'd really gone all out for the reception, the fall theme extending even to the cinnamon spice soap bars.

Who were you even trying to fool? You were hiding in the bathroom. You'd arrived on the scene of the reception party in relatively high spirits, convinced all was fine and dandy, that Gretchen was looking to make amends in this small way. But you'd been wrong.

The invitation hadn't been a fluke. There hadn't been some mistake, because on the little plaque where your name was scrawled in neat cursive sat another right next to it. On the round table where you'd be sitting, there would be Regina George directly to your left. On your other side would be Shane Oman. Across from you, Damian and Janis.

You stepped out of the bathroom, a lump still firmly lodged in your throat but resolve found. You'd brave it, be an adult about it. The breakup had been perfectly amicable, for the most part anyway, so there was no reason for you to be so wound up.

"The maid of honour is a major bitch." Amanda sidled up to you as you walked towards your table. She directed you to the bar by the arm.

"She won't let us switch?" You asked, dismayed but not surprised.

"She won't even let you move to the spare table," Amanda said indignantly. "The whole time, I swear, she was lookin' me up and down all judgy."

"Ugh," You groaned. "Can she get your strongest drink?" You motioned for the bartender. The man nodded with a smile, seeming relieved to be rescued from the old lady chatting him up. He was a good-looking fella, tattoo sleeves and a military haircut.

"Anything for you?" He asked you, eyes lingering on Amanda shyly. Amanda leered at him unabashedly, batting her eyelashes while he made her drink.

"Just a coke." You'd been sober for a good couple of years now, free of all substances. You'd had a nasty relapse in college, a disgraceful return to party drugs and obscene amounts of alcohol, but you'd been able to find your footing since. Largely due to Amanda's intervention.

"You gonna be alright?" Amanda asked, for now deciding not to make a move on the bartender. You knew she was biding her time, establishing tension before she struck. She picked up men like a shark.

"Sure, yeah. It's gonna be okay. It's just, y'know, my ex. And her ex. And her nemesis and that nemesis' best friend. All good."

Amanda eyed you warily. You sipped at your coke through a straw. She, too, took a large gulp.

By the time the bride and the groom made their entrance, you were sitting in your spot, desperately trying not to make eye contact with the other occupants of the table. Shane was squirming on your right, fiddling with what seemed to be an engagement ring. Janis and Damian, sitting across from you, didn't seem to have changed much, except obviously grown up.

Janis was still unapologetically goth, though seemingly turned more toward clean, angular lines rather than messy, smudged blacks. She had on a dress and a shawl, beaded bangles and silver jewellery covering her wrists. She'd gotten more piercings since you last saw her. Angel bites on her upper lip, a bridge between her eyes, and stretched ear lobes. There were some bold tattoos as well, such as a rose crawling up her neck and the head of a snake on the back of her hand, extending up her arm.

Damian was in a cute, velvety green suit. His shirt, white with light green fleur de lis patterns, had ruffles going down the buttons. The length of its sleeves also surpassed that of the suit's, which made the whole look seem kind of piratey. His natural hair, a poofy afro, the bulky red-tinted glasses, and the pointy boots he had on gave off a bohemian seventies disco star vibe. He had a very specific aesthetic and you couldn't help but be impressed.

The seat on your left was pointedly lacking a person. Only the plaque was there along with its elegant scrawl. You crossed your legs and threaded your fingers together, bracing for the moment somebody said something to you. Or you were forced to do it yourself.

"So..." There it comes. Surprisingly it was Shane, of all people. "You and Regina."

"Huh?" You made a sound.

"I mean, you're here together, right? That's what I heard." He scratched at his neck, seeming nervous. All the confidence and obnoxious self-assurance seemed to have melted off of him.

"No, you- what? Where'd you hear that?"

"Just some nasty gossip. Don't worry about it. Aaron and I know what it's like." He smiled supportively but somewhere in the crevices of his cheeks, it seemed sad. "Have you been out for long?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. Shane and Aaron? Was he saying what you thought he was saying?

"Um, pretty much since high school. To be fair, I didn't tell a lot of people back then. You know how Northshore was." He nodded along solemnly. "But in college I sort of bit the bullet."

"That's really brave. Aaron and I haven't been out for long, only since the new law passed." He still seemed cautious and shy, but talking about Aaron clearly made him happy.

"When did you two get together?"

As Shane began to tell the tale, you slowly began to relax. Maybe Regina wouldn't even show up. If you and Gretchen were estranged, Regina and she were even more so. Regina had never given you details, but you did know Gretchen had been heavily involved in your shitty junior year. They'd had an explosive, very public falling-out that'd led to a whole lot of drama.

By that point, you'd sort of checked out of high school as well as your relationship with Regina, so you'd paid very little attention.

"Oh, here she comes," Shane pointed behind you, cutting off his own story. You whirled around, back crackling as you twisted your spine.

Regina George, in the flesh. Your mouth watered, pupils dilated, and there was no way you could've suppressed your reaction. Her eyes were locked on yours, a predatory glint in her eye as she strutted towards your table.

You almost didn't hear Damian's whistle or Janis' stunned laugh, but as Regina shifted the white fur stole she had to reveal her shoulders and chest, you went wholly deaf to all but the clack of her heels.

She had on a baby pink bodycon dress with a slit sinfully high up on her thigh, satin hugging her hips sensually. She had on white high heels with thin straps at the ankle and fur at the tops of her toes.

Her makeup was natural, with subtle browns and blacks, except for the prominent blush she'd picked. Her hair was a warmer blonde than before, complimenting her tanned skin. She had on golden jewellery, a familiar golden necklace resting on the dip of her clavicles like a taunt.

She kept on advancing towards the table. You could do little else but stare, slack-jawed at the visage of her. Other people were staring too, you could tell. You could only imagine what Gretchen was doing with her face at the moment, perhaps scowling like a pug or maybe looking like she was about to cry. Regina was but a guest and yet...

Regina was never just Regina. You knew that better than anyone. No matter how she dressed, behaved, or what her priorities were, she was an innate presence that influenced those around her. Gretchen inviting her to this wedding was essentially like shooting herself in the foot.

Regina didn't have to try to snatch the attention of the room, but when she did, there was no competition. And Regina had gone all out. You could tell by the movements of her hands, the way her lashes fluttered, and how her mouth parted just a little. It was obvious, at least to you, that Regina was doing what she did best: Revenge.

"Hi, baby," She cooed down at you. You took a moment to react, surprised by how she was suddenly there, right in front of you.

Her hands reached for you, long acrylics brushing against your collar, then your neck, then the back of your neck and in your hair. Her thumbs directed your head to tilt up. She pulled you close as she leaned down and then—peach lipgloss, glittery eyeshadow, saccharine perfume—your skin tingled where she touched you, sparks going off behind your eyelids as they fell closed, bliss pouring out of your pores as you became filled with it.

You kissed her back, took hold of her hips and pulled her to stand between your legs. Fuck, this was bad. But, fuck, it felt good to kiss her again.

Distantly, like someone shouting into the water in which you were submerged, you realized that this was perhaps the worst way, place, and time you could've reunited with Regina.

Even so, you kissed deeper, licking into her mouth until she made a sound you'd so missed all these years. Just as you began debating the pros and cons of laying her down on the table right there in the open, Shane tugged hard on your shoulder.

"What?" You grumbled, turning to him with a glare already in place.

He was red-faced, and frazzled, but had on a wide grin. "Get it, girl, but calm down. The mother of the bride looks like she's about to implode." He inclined his head towards the long table where all the important people sat. The mother of the bride did indeed look to be on the precipice of a furious blow-out.

"Okay," You swallowed, sense slowly coming back to you.

"Ugh, you're such a party pooper, Shane." Regina pulled away, leaving your palms achingly empty. She didn't go far though. She sat down on her chair before reaching into her white Valentino bag and pulling out some napkins. Then, she leaned in again.

Your eyes fluttered closed and lips puckered. Regina laughed.

"Silly, you have gloss all over your face."

"Oh," Your eyes opened. Gosh, that was embarrassing.

Regina wiped your mouth. Then, she pulled out a compact mirror and fixed her own lips. You watched her do all this. She and Shane started chatting. Apparently, they'd been in somewhat regular contact.

You'd just kissed Regina George. After, what, eight or nine years? In front of the whole goddamn venue. In front of Gretchen, in front of Gretchen's family, in front of basically your entire year from high school.

You got up. "Oh, where are you going?" Shane asked, all innocent. You hoped you didn't look as panicked as you felt. He didn't seem to think anything was wrong. You glanced at Regina.

Fuck. She totally knew. Obviously, she knew you. She could read you like a book.

"Smoke. Be back in a few." You fled.

"I'm coming too," Janis said.

Notes: Sorry for the long break everybody! I graduated and had a party for that! Went on a little trip to the countryside with friends! And now, at last, I'm back at my desk and ready to churn out some long overdue chapters.

Taglist posted separately! Comment on that post to get on it if you want!