#urgency of posting this > actually making it look good

[sabo-torao]

obsessed with this thing that he does

[c0ffeejelly1]

Reacting to you wearing pheromone perfume

Multiple characters headcannon

Authors note: Dw they’re all horny for you, umm if it looks like I got lazy it’s bc I did. (POST-TIMESKIP!!)

Warnings: NSFW Content, Femdom(ish), vaginal sex, riding and uhhh find out the rest urself.

The plan was set.

You were just going to do your usual grocery run, but hold off putting the new found perfume on until you were at the door step.

That way, when you walked in, the scent would hit him like a wave, making it clear even for him to notice something different about you.

It was perfect! And soon the plan was to come into play as you sprayed yourself head to toe in its mist.

You tucked the bottle away deep in your grocery bag, then unlocked the door, the keys jingling softly as you did.

“Hey baby, I’m back.”

You say, shutting the door behind you and setting the groceries on the kitchen counter. “So what’ve you been up to?”

You shot him a quick glance from the couch, an innocent smile on your face.

The type to invade your personal space

What the... what the hell did you do? Something feels off here. He can sense it—no, he can practically smell it.

You’ve pulled a fast one, and he’s gonna find out what exactly it is..

“Me? Oh I’ve been up to absolutely nothing..like nothing at all.” he says, strolling over to you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“But the real question is though..what exactly have you been up to, huh?..”

You hadn’t realised just how close he had really gotten to you, until you took your eyes away from the ingredient in your hand to look at him, a palm rested onto the kitchen counter as he leaned in closer to you.

You didn’t waver though. You knew this was only an effect of the perfume working it’s magic, he was probably just trying to get a better whiff of you.

Everything was going according to plan..

“Well, I was just picking up some things for the house and dinner tonight. Thought I’d whip up your favorite, you know?”

You suddenly feel a grip on your shoulder as he turns you to face him. He takes this newfound opportunity as a chance to bury his nose into your neck.

“Jesus..” what hell did you actually do? Why’s he feeling so..bothered. And why do you look so attractive all of a sudden. Not that you’re not always beautiful, but right now... you’re just breathtaking, and it’s stirring up all sorts of feelings in him. “Why do you smell like this..”

Perfect. Everything was unfolding just as you wanted it! Sure, you didn’t expect him to take the bait so quickly, but who’s complaining? You knew what was coming; after all, this is your boyfriend.

“Hm? Smell like what, handsome? I always smell like this..” You wanted to tease him, to see how far he’d go with it. That turned out to be your biggest mistake.

NSFW

Now your legs were sore, your hips bruised, and your back aching, all while he continued thrusting up into you.

How was he still going? You had been lost in this rhythm for what felt like ages, your bodies entwined and slick with each other's essences.

“Ah-..Fuck..y-you feel so good..”

The air around you was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix that only intensified the connection you both shared.

“And you s-smell..so so amazing..shit..it’s got me all types of f-fucked up..”

His face was flushed, lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily, each sound escaping him, a testament to the pleasure building between you.

His grip on your hip grew firmer, guiding your movements up and down his length with a deliberate urgency that sent shivers down your spine.

You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath your touch, each thrust igniting a fire deep within you.

“I-I don’t think m’gonna last long if you keep t-tightening-..fuck..like that baby..”

The quick, shallow breath he took and the tension in his abdomen were unmistakable signs that he was nearing his peak again, ready to fill you completely once more.

You could see the way his eyes filled with desire, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours as if trying to convey everything he felt in that moment.

It was a silent conversation, one that spoke of longing and need, of a connection that transcended words.

You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his ear, whispering sweet nothings that only fueled the fire between you.

You begin to rock your own hips against him, matching his thrust causing a small whine to escape his lips, and in return sending waves of pleasure coursing to you.

You could feel the heat pooling in your belly, a delicious ache that begged for release. The way he moved under you, the way he held you, made you feel cherished and desired all at once.

“B-baby I-..m’gonna..fuck- I’m g-gonna cum-..I can’t-..m’gonna- c-cumming!..”

With the broken moan he let out, you could feel him surrenderer to the moment, releasing all he had left inside of him into you and allowing the sensations to wash over him, a small whimper leaving his lips feeling you pulse around him.

You couldn’t help but lose yourself in the pleasure that enveloped you both, and to think..

this was all because of some damn perfume.

Characters: reigen, dimple, kagami, AOMINE, tengen, connie, NISHINOYA, oikawa, GOJO, SOLOMON , CHILDE, KAEYA, wriothesley (Anyone you like)

The type to stare at you from afar

He knew from the moment you entered the room something was off.

Now, he couldn’t shake off his suspicion.

What had exactly changed about you..was it your clothes? Nah..it couldn’t be that.

Maybe you styled your hair differently?..no that’s just stupid; anyone would notice that.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t even realise just how long he had been staring at you, examining every little detail like you were some kind of puzzle.

It was a little unsettling to say the least but you continued on with sorting out the groceries.

“Hey babe, can you help me with this?”

“No.”

You look at him confused and quite frankly offended.

This mf really just said no to you.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I can’t get close to you.”

That’s exactly the OPPOSITE of what the perfume is supposed to do! It’s supposed to attract him towards you not make him act like a deer in headlights!

“What- why?” You say a little too disappointingly for your liking.

“If I did, I might do something bad.”

Something bad? What could he possibly mean by something ba- ohh…oh. Oh.

Would it be funny if you just said that you wanted him to do that ‘bad’ thing.

NSFW

Okay take back everything you said. This is not funny anymore.

In fact this is just back breaking especially with the way he’s pounding into you all while pressing his face deep inside the crook of your neck.

“H-hah..fuck..I-is this good for y-you too, baby?..”

You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, as he struggled to stifle his moans, the soft, enticing sounds escaping him despite his best efforts.

You would be lying if you said this wasn’t exactly what you wanted; after all, you did choose to wear that perfume, the one you knew would draw him in.

I guess you just didn’t anticipate such a strong reaction from him, the way his body responded to your presence, as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

The whole experience was incredibly distracting, especially with him so close to your ear, his breath hitching with every whispered compliment you offered.

“F-fuck..pull on my hair..p-please baby..m’so close for you..”

Each time your fingers tangled in his hair, you can feel the tension in his body falter, his hips instinctively responding to your words.

It was as if your gentle praise unlocked something deep within him, a vulnerability that made the air between you thick with unspoken desire.

He didn’t need no perfume to make love to you like this.

Characters: SERIZAWA, giyuu, armin, KAGEYAMA, OSAMU, geto, MAMMON, leviathan, albedo, CYNO, kazuha, XIAO (Anyone you like)

The type to get distracted while you speak

“Just the..the usual..”

“Mm..the usual huh? So mysterious.”

You throw him a quick look, a playful smirk creeping onto your face as you plop down next to him on the couch. With a dramatic sigh, you turn to him.

“Honestly, I was thinking about whipping up something new for us, but I’m not sure it’ll turn out great… Oh! You won’t believe who I bumped into at the store earlier—…”

‘Blah blah blah proper name, place name, backstory stuff..’ (PLEASE TELL ME YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT)

This man is not listening to a single thing your saying.

Everything is just going through one ear and out the other.

Yet, he’s nodding along, pretending to listen, his eyes locked on yours and occasionally flicking to your lips.

You’ve got him hook line and sinker.

“Babe. Babe, are you even listening to me?”

“..Huh? Y-yeah, you were talking about.. your friend?”

Right, because chopping tomatoes has everything to do with friends.

“Oh really? And what exactly was I saying about said friend?”

“I- you were..y’know..stuff?”

You raise an eyebrow at him

“Look baby I can’t concentrate right now. I don’t know what you did, but my mind is wandering to places it shouldn’t, and it’s messing with me, so please…”

“..please what?” You know what he wants.

“Help a guy out? I know you can see it..”

Oh, you definitely could see it. You could see the huge hard on he had right now, and here he was, asking for your help—there was no way you were going to turn him down.

NSFW

He let out a deep sigh, tilting his head back against the couch, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through him as he struggled to maintain eye contact with you.

“You look a-absolutely stunning like this, my love…” His voice was a low murmur, thick with desire, as he took in the sight of you.

The way your mouth enveloped him, gently teasing his skin, sent shivers down his spine, igniting a fire within him that he could hardly contain.

Your lips moved with a tantalising rhythm, each caress sending waves of ecstasy through his body.

“Mhm..like that, k-keep sucking on it like that beautiful..”

He could feel the warmth of your breath, the softness of your touch, and it was all too much to bear.

His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, fingers behind your head, as he tried to guide you, to pull you even closer.

“Jus a l-little more for me baby m’already so close because of you..”

The way your hands explored him, tracing the contours of his body, ignited a primal urge deep within him.

Every gentle stroke, every teasing touch drew a soft gasp from his lips, a sound that echoed the intensity of the moment.

Before long, his breath caught in his throat, and without any warning, he released himself into your mouth.

Soft murmurs of "m’sorry" and "thank you" slipped from his lips, each word laced with a mixture of guilt and gratitude, as if he were acknowledging the weight of the moment while simultaneously surrendering to it.

He tilted his head back again, exposing the graceful curve of his neck, while a deep, guttural moan escaped him.

He clutched the couch for support, his fingers digging into the fabric as he began to calm himself down

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like that perfume.

Characters: midorima, rengoku, eren, Tsukishima, akaashi, Ushijima, suna, NANAMI, LUCIFER, ayato, DILUC, neuvillette, zhongli (Anyone you like)

The type to suddenly want to be a man

“Doesn’t matter, let me help you with that.”

This probably may have been the fastest you had ever seen this lazy ass man get up from the couch and willing ask to help you with something without you telling him to.

This perfume was doing its damn job alright.

And you were liking it already.

“You sure babe? Do you even know where most of these things go?” you asked, a hint of skepticism in your voice.

“…No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try for once, right?”

“Yeah sure..” you conceded, your curiosity piqued by his sudden determination.

“Just relax and take it easy. Please. I’ve got this covered.” he assured you, his tone confident and light.

You let him gently guide you back to the couch, ensuring you stayed seated while he headed to the kitchen.

A few moments later, he returned to you.

“Finished already? That was fast—”

Your words were abruptly silenced as another set of lips met yours, warm and insistent.

The unexpected kiss sent a jolt of surprise through you, momentarily stealing your breath away.

You had been caught off guard, your playful teasing hanging in the air like a forgotten thought.

When the kiss finally broke, you both pulled back slightly, as he rested his gaze on you his chest rising gently.

“I want 10 of em.”

“..10 of what?”

“kids.” He replies with a stern look on his face.

“...”

“Is that a yes?”

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m being deadass.”

NSFW

Well let’s just say he was NOT joking, and was very much being true to his words.

He intended to have those 10 kids, but first, he needed to prepare you.

That's why you found yourself on the bed, your legs resting on his shoulders as he immersed himself in your warmth.

“Mm..so good..you taste so fucking good..”

He was devouring you like a man starved, his tongue skillfully teasing your clit and occasionally sucking on it, making your legs tighten around him even more.

How many times had you cum already with his restless mouth?

Just how long did he plan on keeping this up?

You were already worn out, and now your legs were killing you.

“One more for me pretty girl..come on I know you can do it. You’ve got one more left in ya don’t you..” his words were muffled in with the wet sounds of your juices but you could still hear each and everyone of his dirty talk.

The way he would urge you into coming undone onto his tongue, the way his nose would brush up against your clit as his tongue pummelled into your hole.

It was all too much.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to last much longer anymore especially with his hums of approval sending all the right vibrations down to your mound.

With one last flick of his tongue against your clit, you came, fingers gripping onto his hair tightly.

When catching your breath just as you thought you had finished up with everything, do you hear the rustling of the sheets only to see him preparing to put his length into you.

“Fuck..d-don’t look at me like that princess, you know damn well we aren’t done here, especially with how hard I am now..”

That perfumes going on lock down.

Characters: Sanemi, jean, REINER, UKAI, kuroo, hinata, BOKUTO, atsumu, iwaizumi, CHOSO, DIAVOLO, ITTO, thoma (Anyone you like)

[boohorns1136439]

Learning to belong ~ poly!MHA x fem!Reader (01)

I didn’t expect to drop the first chapter so fast. Thank you everyone who liked and/or commented on my previous post !! Hope y’all will like this one !!

Summary <- 01 -> 02

Masterlist

Taglist

Warning: I don’t know anything about hospital or how they actually work, I tried to make it accurate as much as possible, cursing ?

tags: aged-up characters ; Pack! Izuku Midoriya X Bakugo Katsuki X Shoto Todoroki X Kirishima Eijirou ; Omega!Izuku Midoriya ; Omega!Bakugo Katsuki ; Omega!Shoto Todoroki ; Omega!Kirishima Eijirou ; technically Beta!Reader ; afab!Reader ; modern Au ; post-UA ; Reader has a quirk ; non hero!Reader ; eventually smut

Also, reader is bisexual !

Working in a hospital was always exhausting. You never imagined yourself becoming a doctor; in fact, you never even dreamt of it. But with a healing quirk like yours, combined with the prestige and respect the profession brought, you felt pushed into it. It wasn’t so bad, though. Being a beta, you had an edge here. In a place where emotions ran high and pheromones flooded the air, you stayed grounded. While alphas and omegas could be thrown into chaos by the scent and pheromones around them, you kept your cool. It was one of the few perks of being a beta in a high-stress environment like this.

Today felt no different from the others as you made your way down the sterile hallway, heading for your next patient. Just as you were about to enter their room, the sound of hurried footsteps caught your attention. A group of paramedics rushed past you, wheeling a stretcher with a patient barely visible under layers of blankets.

The moment they passed, the air shifted. The doctor in charge, a tall, sharp-eyed alpha, started barking orders at the nurses, his voice cutting through the usual calmness of the hospital. You could tell by the urgency that this wasn’t just any patient. No, this had to be someone important. A pro-hero, maybe? It wouldn’t be the first time one of them was brought in after a brutal fight. For a moment, curiosity sparked inside you, and you wondered who they were. But duty called. You pushed open the door to your patient’s room, the soft click of the handle snapping you back into focus. Your professional demeanor slid into place like a well-worn mask.

"Good morning! How are you feeling today?"

The patient shifted under the thin sheet, eyes half-closed.

"Better, I think... Still sore, though," they murmured.

You nodded, already making mental notes.

“That’s to be expected. Let’s have a look at those vitals and see how you're doing.”

After finishing up with your patient, the day moved on with the usual requests and minor chaos of the hospital. It wasn’t long before Asuna, the cute omega nurse, approached you again, her brown eyes wide as she asked

“Please, Y/N, I really need to leave early today. I swear I’ll buy your lunch tomorrow.”

You couldn’t help but wonder why people always came to you for favors. It wasn’t like you had a particularly welcoming vibe, yet somehow, this was the third time she had asked you to cover her last round so she could head out early.

“Y/N, I promise, it’s the last time.”

Her wide brown eyes locked onto yours, and you knew she had you. It wasn’t the first time Asuna had asked for a favor, and you doubted it would be the last.

“Alright, Asuna, you’re a pain in the ass. This is the last time, though. I mean it,” you said, though your tone didn’t carry much conviction.

Her smile brightened, and with a quick, “Thank you, Doctor L/N!” she handed you her patient list and dashed off to the locker room.

You shook your head slightly, more amused than annoyed. People always seemed to assume you were an easy target for these things, but the truth was, you just didn’t care enough to make a big deal out of it. Besides, it was easier to say yes and get on with your day than to fight over it. Since she was assigned to the hero wing, you made your way there, your steps steady and automatic. The hero wing wasn’t all that different from the rest of the hospital, just quieter. The lighting was a bit softer, and the rooms offered a little more privacy, but beyond that, it was still a hospital—white walls, the faint scent of disinfectant in the air, and the steady hum of medical equipment. You made your way down the familiar hallway, passing a few closed doors until you reached the patient’s room at the end.

After a brief knock on the door with no response, you entered the room, heading straight for the bed. Their room was larger than most, with enough space to accommodate any necessary equipment, but otherwise, it was like every other patient room. The sunlight filtered through thin blue curtains, casting a dull glow over the room. You checked the vitals on instinct, your eyes drifting to the patient, and then froze when you realized who you were looking at pro-hero Shoto Todoroki.

Seeing him up close was something else. One of Japan’s most famous heroes, practically a celebrity, and here he was, fast asleep in front of you. His hair rested against his shoulders, the unusual coloring drawing your attention in a way you couldn’t quite explain. His features were sharp yet soft and refined, but it was the contrast in his appearance, much like an exotic bird, that caught your eye. There was something striking, captivating about the way he looked. He was just... pretty. There was no other way to describe it. Everything about him screamed "pretty boy." You were so captivated by the length of his lashes, thick and dark against his skin, that you didn’t even notice when his eyes opened and met yours.

The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like an eternity. You’d heard Shoto was on the quieter side, but this silence felt different, as if he were trying to figure out why a doctor had been watching him sleep. It was unprofessional—creepy, even—and you had no valid excuse for why you were still staring. The awkwardness of the moment built until it was unbearable, and just as you opened your mouth to apologize, you noticed something shift in his gaze.

There was something more beneath it now, something charged. His cheeks flushed, the soft pink blossoming across his skin like a dahlia. The color spread gradually, delicate at first but quickly deepening into a rich, vibrant hue. His wide eyes, one blue and one gray, darkened as his pupils expanded, a hazy look settling in them. As if he was suddenly hyperaware of every breath you took. The heart monitor’s consistent beeping suddenly picked up pace, the rhythm escalating without warning.

Instinctively, you reached out, your hand barely grazing his shoulder. His entire body trembled at the touch. It was immediate, his body responding to even the slightest touch.

Then, in a small, broken voice, he whispered.

“Alpha... please…”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of it, the words so out of place that they felt like a joke. But before you could react, a scent hit you, so strong and unexpected that it threatened to short-circuit your brain.

Alright, I did the first one. As always, I like criticism and I find them really helpful so don’t hesitate to tell me if something is weird or wrong about my writing !!

Big thank you to @cafekitsune who made the beautiful dividers !

Summary <- 01 -> 02

Taglist

[mimisplayground]

Plz for the love of all things holy give us the argenthill posts I will actually lose my mind

Being sandwiched between them while they give each other attention, whining and mumbling complaints when they kiss each other.

Because they aren’t even trying to be subtle about the way they’re teasing you. Grinning down at you and chuckling when you say “my turn…” when they keep giving each other little pecks on the lips.

And if you want attention so bad, shouldn’t you get it? Thats why both of their hands are on you quickly. Why suddenly you went from watching them kiss to yelping when Boothill nips at your tongue with his sharp teeth. Argenti chuckling when you grip onto him to ground yourself.

And Argenti is just worshipping you. Down on his knees and putting his mouth to work quickly. Ridding you of your pants and undergarments with urgency.

“Look at ‘im sweetheart” Boothill teases, kissing down your throat while he hears your whines when the knight suckles at a particularly sensitive spot. Holding you sit when you jolt at the tongue being laved against you.

Argenti just lets out the loudest groan when your hands instinctively begin to grasp at the red hair. Leading you to bucking your hips into his face even more. And you feel him spelling something out with his tongue, but your brain just feels too melty to figure out what.

The cowboys fingers travel, touching any inch of skin they can find, and chilling you when he finally decides on abusing your nipples while he nips at your shoulders.

When you finally cum its with a shout, legs lifting and clamping around Argenti’s head while your hands scramble to het a tight grip on Boothill.

You feel the knight stand, but your vision is blurry and all you can give is a huff when he pats your face and mumbles your praises.

And you can’t help but be much more appreciative of it when your vision clears and you see Boothill licking the redheads face clean before making out with the man.

——

HOPE THIS WAS GOOD SRY FOR THE WAIT I HAVE NO EXCUSE I JUST FORGET I WRITE FANFICS SOMETIMES AND READ FOR HOURS BEFORE I REMEMBER…

[ssahotchnerr]

SINCE WHEN COULDNT YOU LINK ANON ASKS ANYMORE ????

basically there was this post saying the bau had to cram into one car and op said they’d have to sit on aaron’s lap. it had me thinking about oblivious aaron and when reader says something like that he doesn’t catch on that she’s flirting so he says “but that’s illegal 🫤 and dangerous ☝️”

by default

wc; 1.1k cw; sexual tension, flustered aaron flustered aaron flustered aaron

leave it to morgan to get an injury. per usual.

to be fair, he had been heroic, intercepting the unsub just in the nick of time. but while doing so, he had landed obscurely on his ankle, twisting the absolute hell out of it.

as a result, derek ultimately had to take up the entire backseat to keep his foot raised- to prevent further swelling and in attempt to ease the throbbing pain.

but that meant, you were left without a seat.

the takedown had been sudden; the other half of the team were still at the precinct, as was the other suv. you paused as the realization suddenly entered your mind, your hand pausing still on the ajar door.

at the sound of aaron's familiar footsteps behind you, you turned- just enough so he was able to catch a glimpse of your face. the look on yours must've relayed a sense of troubledness, as aaron's usual stoic expression deepened, a quizzical look in his eyes.

"what is it?" his tone was balanced- calm, but a hint of urgency was merely present. as if he were ready to go from zero to one hundred at your request, whatever it may be.

you gaped at him. "i don't have a seat."

aaron's face changed immediately, displaying an internal oh as the realization of the current predicament hit him as well. "right..." aaron's voice trailed off, immediately racking through his brain for a possible solution. "um..."

"what's the issue?" dave approached the two of you, having just finished his conversation with one of the paramedics on scene.

"since hero man over here took one for the team," you tilted your head in derek's direction, who looked awfully proud at the title you've given him. "we're inevitably down a seat."

"hm. well i guess that's too bad." dave nonchalantly answered with a shrug of his shoulders. to hide his smile, he opened the driver side door and didn't waste a second getting inside, offering no further words or assistance.

aaron huffed out a breath through his nose, rolling his eyes at rossi's very apparent helpfulness.

a new idea flashed into your head- one that made you giddy and sweat at the same time. it exited your mouth before you could stop it; you chalked it up to the adrenaline still pumping through your veins from the unsub's takedown. any other time, you wouldn't be as confident or straightforward.

"i could always sit on your lap."

despite the fact he instantly froze, aaron did a good job at showing no emotion at your suggestion. just like you, the idea made him feel lightheaded in the best possible way, but would he allow that to show? absolutely not.

and so by default, aaron crossed his arms, his eyebrows drawn into a line. "that's not very safe."

"do you have any better ideas?" you arched an eyebrow, crossing your arms right back at him. "we're out of options here."

"the roof?" derek joked from inside the vehicle. at his statement, aaron didn't hesitate to push the door shut, silencing him for the meantime.

"it's only like, a twenty minute drive. it's fine, i'll be fine." you reassured him, searching his eyes with yours.

he deadpanned. "and it's illegal."

you waved off his statement, quirking an eyebrow in a teasing manner. "i'll wear my vest if it makes you feel any better."

his timid expression softened, as if he were actually considering your point, but it only took a moment for the pensiveness to return. he let out a sigh, pulling his eyes from yours. "no..."

"then...?" you pushed hesitantly.

aaron knew your suggestion was the most logical resolution. it was either that, or derive morgan from aiding to his injury.

and he also knew that you would be safe, in his arms. by no means would he ever let anything bad happen to you.

his eyes made their way back to you, only to be met with again, a raised eyebrow.

"okay, fine." he surrendered, loosening his crossed arms and letting them drop to his sides.

you made your way over to the passenger side of the car, aaron at your footsteps. when he took the initiative and moved forward a bit, opening the door for the two of you, your confidence instantly fizzled and nerves took it's place.

this was really about to happen.

aaron climbed into the suv first, taking his seat and buckling- the seatbelt wouldn't span over both of you, so his arms would have to act as your seatbelt- before holding a hand out to you.

aaron had had less than a minute to prepare himself for this, but he was certain there wasn't a value of time that actually could.

meanwhile, you exhaled a silent breath and took his hand, settling yourself onto his lap.

at the contact aaron's breath hitched, his cheeks warming. involuntarily, all his past fantasies came to mind, as they were vaguely as close to coming true than he ever thought possible. he had lost count at how many times he had pictured you being this close, and closer. the only difference now were the articles of clothing separating the two of you, and the fact two colleagues were inches away.

to sum it up, you were both equally flustered. for months, there was an unspoken... something between the two of you. something neither of you had acted upon it, or addressed. and this, it was crossing the nonexistent barrier the two of you had put into place.

neither of you were upset about it too, quite honestly.

with a racing heart, you leaned back against his chest, aaron's arms wrapping around your waist securely and holding your body tightly to his. you weren't going fly through the windshield, even at the smallest of brakes, not on his watch.

after a very nervous swallow, he checked in with you, "this alright?"

that immediately took you by surprise, and did not help in the slightest. the closeness of aaron's low voice directly at your ear, his warm breath spreading across your neck, had every part of you silently humming.

"mhm." was all you could manage, resisting the urge to move your hips further back into his.

"aw, don't you two look comfortable." derek gushed from the backseat, a low chuckle escaping him.

you peered back to give him the stink eye, while aaron chose to ignore him. but, your movement did exactly what you hadn't intended, pushing yourself further into aaron. he let out a small noise, his grip around your waist only tightening as he resisted to squirm in his seat.

aaron composed himself the best he could, taking two long, silent breaths, he cleared his throat. "rossi-"

"drive safe, take no chances." dave interrupted him immediately, shifting the gear into drive. his tone was almost wise, clear amusement in his voice. "i know."

[rpgchoices]

Very short non spoiler review of Veilguard act 1

I played only to chapter 8, which should be still in act 1, but I am not going to add any spoilers. This is a very generic bulletpoint list of opinions.

GAMEPLAY

Intro is great, art is pretty good too, even the characters

combat is very fun, but I still preferred Inquisition combat

the world is extremely empty. There is one or two talking npc for each faction and that is. Secondary characters do not exist. Quests are all generic (ex. Random nameless character "hey, this person disappeared, can you find them?" with no extra story or explanation)

barely any animals or surprises in the world. The only exploration factor is looking at landscapes and doing some puzzles

there are only three type of puzzles: move object into place to activate door, destroy blight to free door to open, destroy crystal to free door to open. That is it.

choices that matters are identified by the game with a sign, and you will also have a sign that will let you know which dialogue was affected by what

loved the jumping around and the sliding down

you can pet any cat or dog

the world feels empty, empty of lore, empty of characters, empty of animals, quests, people

CHARACTERS

companions are the only characters in the whole game, plus a few associated characters to them

barely any banter and the only banter present is very superficial or more on the funny side

good thing is that if banter is interrupted by a combat it will continue later

my favorite part was seeing characters talk and interact in the lighthouse

do not expect cameo, and if there are cameo they are very short and very generic

companions are very good, very kind, very nice, with little consistency between their characterization and how they behave (ex. Neve is a detective, but she never asks anything or acts differently from other characters or even seem interested in what is going on)

companions seem almost flanderized, with mainly one character trait each

dialogue is sometimes extremely clunky, with "textbook answers" that seem written with AI instead of a writer. It is all "tell, do not show", so it is more likely that a character says "I am shaken" over actually showing how they feel

characters seem to act often like exposition machines, and knows things they definitely should not know

ROOK / PLAYER

amazing character creation options

I played as elf and it has little reactivity, maybe a bit less than Inquisition

the faction has more reactivity, and there are multiple dialogues with your companions about it, mainly little comments that make it feels like Rook has a backstory (much better than inquisition)

Rook facial expressions and movements are a bit strange sometimes, making it seems like he is always smiling and happy even when he should not be

the "purple" dialogue options are a bit meh, definitely not as funny as DA2, and I think "red" might fit more (in my attempt to try and make a more serious Rook)

you cannot really shape Rook's personality

also you cannot disagree with your companions, there is no dialogue choice to disagree or fight with them like in previous games. Most of the dialogue seems to be divided in a few categories: Exposition requests; Flirting; Supportive comment; Joking comment but still supportive.

STORY AND QUESTS

It does not feel like Dragon Age.

The game take theories and secret information from previous games and make it the standard world knowledge

there is no urgency

side quests are forgettable

story is very weirdly paced

each companion has a post-recruitment quest to know them

factions and world seems sanitized. We do not hear about the darker side of the Crows, or about Tevinter's slavery if not in passing

the story is okay but would have benefitted A LOT from hiding the villains and introducing them later. When I say a lot I mean from a 6/10 game to a 8/10 game.

also never thought I would say this, but I miss the Chantry. There is barely any mention of any lore

also only three choices matter - but do they? it felt like everything was a blank state

ROMANCES

By the end of act 1 you can still flirt with everyone.

A lot of flirting options for all characters and if you skip some of them you still get the next ones

I had no romance specific scene yet so it looks like you can flirt with everyone for quite a while before deciding

the flirting is all very PG13 and it is more allusions than actual overt flirting (I mainly flirted with Davrin and Emmrich)

for now I have seen no characters flirting with each other's

I think around chapter 7 and onwards the pacing gets much better, and the writing of the quests a bit more interesting. It honestly felt like a different game in some parts, and I have no idea what happened there. It feels like the game is:

Amazing prologue, probably the best DA prologue yet

First recruitment character and first mission - completely downhill with writing

Pretty slow and weird paced then until chapter 7-8

[marveling-cg]

I can't stop thinking about those 10 years or...

Izuku Midoriya recognizes a declaration of romantic intent when it slaps him in the face with a mechanical arm, and he's sick of Kacchan's bullshit:

Fucking Kacchan -- like everything else with Kacchan -- is complicated.

It'd started off simple.

A text late one night to Kacchan: "it's gone ...the ember is gone"

An hour later, and Kacchan had been knocking at Izuku's university dorm door

Izuku had fallen into him, amazed that Kacchan had traveled all the way from his campus to be with him in this moment

A kiss to Izuku's hair made him look up into vermillion eyes

Kacchan had followed it with a kiss to Izuku's forehead, his eyelids, his tear-stained cheeks -- he'd paused and Izuku hadn't dared to move, not even to open his eyes, unwilling to break whatever spell this might be

Kacchan had brushed his thumbs over Izuku's cheeks, cradling Izuku's face, as if Izuku was precious, delicate: "Let me make you feel good." Yes.

"Please."

And then Kacchan had moved with the kind of decisive action that never failed to take Izuku's breath away; only this time he had actually been stealing Izuku's breath, un-selfconsciously pressing the gentlest kiss to Izuku's mouth following it up with a series of licks and bites that had left Izuku unable to think about anything beyond Kacchan

His hands in Izuku's hair, the bite of his teeth against Izuku's neck, the warmth of him under Izuku's hands, the dizzying sight of him sinking to his knees

Izuku had come embarrassingly fast. Kacchan was as good at sucking Izuku off as he was at everything else, all hot mouth and large hands completely focused on holding Izuku captive.

"Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean -- I mean I didn't want -- I still want, I mean if you want --"

"Zuku," Kacchan's voice had been serious, his stare arresting, "You think I'm done with you? You think I'll ever be fucking done with you?"

And then Kacchan had reached behind himself and pulled his shirt over his head; stood in one fluid motion and tossed a small bottle to the bed from one of his pockets. "Come here."

Izuku had crashed into Kacchan with all the urgency of years' worth of desire

It had taken almost the whole night to exhaust themselves, and even then, Kacchan stayed and held Izuku until he'd finally been able to sleep

In the morning, when Izuku had woken to the sun streaming through his window and an empty bed, he'd almost panicked.

"Shhh, go back to sleep. I've gotta get back to my internship." Kacchan was halfway through the door, but he stopped to look back over his shoulder. "But, I'm here, Deku. Always."

Then he was out the door.

Izuku'd crashed back into bed, only to realize there was a note left on his pillow: "You're still my hero, Deku."

And it might have stayed simple if either he or Kacchan had ever figured out how to have a proper conversation, but it was always heartrending confessions or almost nothing at all with them. It was easier when they were in person. Kacchan communicated through action. For instance:

After Kacchan left that morning, Izuku didn't hear directly from him, but suddenly the mostly dormant Class 1A group chat lit up

Ashido mentioned wanting to meet up to celebrate some of the upcoming birthdays; Momo thought maybe they could make a tradition of it, meet up once a month any month where 1A had a birthday; Tenya had a scheduling survey posted in the chat almost before Momo finished her last message

Then Uraraka and Tsu, both attending the same university as Izuku, had shown up at his door with snacks for an impromptu movie night

No one mentioned a word about One For All or Katsuki, but it all still felt like Kacchan taking care of him

"Did he tell you," Izuku asked once the first movie ended, "that we finally slept together?"

Once the shock of the revelation died down, the questions began: How do you feel about that? Have you talked since? Are you dating now?

That last one was where he got stuck. He wasn't sure. He couldn't explain what they were.

Tsu and Uraraka thought he should talk with Kacchan, but Izuku kept thinking about the night they helped Kacchan escape the League -- the way the plan worked because Izuku didn't press. When Kacchan was ready, he'd made contact. And Izuku had gotten his best friend back.

Izuku decided he would wait, let Kacchan lead

A week and a half later, when 1A met up for Koji, Shoji, Tsu, & Jiro's birthdays, Kacchan made a beeline for Izuku as soon as he arrived

Kacchan was clearly freshly off duty, hair a little damp, clothes clinging slightly from his shower

He pressed his way through the crowd, barely waited for their friends to make space next to Izuku before he was dragging a seat into the space

He settled in close, arm around the back of Izuku's chair, before butting his head lightly into the side of Izuku's. His free hand reached to Izuku's closest and pulled it into his grip and then to his mouth for a quick kiss

Izuku nearly died.

It's not that they hadn't spoken since that night, they had, but not about them, not about what that night meant. Kacchan had sent over footage from some villain who'd been good at evading their agency: "how would you stop him? the short version"; and there'd been random hero trivia, stuff that was hard to find online but Kacchan had gleaned from some old timers who consulted at his internship

Nothing that would have prepared Izuku for this; for fucking casual contact in the presence of their friends

All Might help him

When Kacchan found him after dinner, chatting with Jiro and Kaminari, and asked him, audibly, if he wanted to come back to Kacchan's place, Izuku had practically floated out after him

On the way over, he could sense Kacchan tensing up. They needed to talk - should talk. But, even Izuku could admit that sometimes there's was too much to say and too few words that would make any of it make sense.

He thought sometimes that's why they'd had such a hard time of it in grade school. What do you do with the knowledge that you and this other kid are permanent when you're 10 years old.

So when they got up to Kacchan's dorm, Izuku didn't say anything, simply took Kachaan's hand and pulled him close. The way Kacchan fell into the kiss, fell into Izuku's arms, like it was a relief, was all Izuku really needed to know.

It was a pattern they'd keep up over the next few years.

Kacchan stayed busy: school, internship, training, recovery. But he never missed a birthday gathering. And -- as they'd done since their second year at UA, they always met up on the anniversary of Kacchan's escape from the League of Villains at All Might's statue.

On the first anniversary of Izuku losing his power, Kacchan showed up at Izuku's dorm with a bag full of groceries: "Stop looking at me like that, dweeb, it's our fucking anniversary. Put some pants on so we can go down to the kitchen."

It didn't stop Izuku's tears, but it did muddle them into something closer to sweet than bitter

It was also how he learned that they were in fact (probably) in a relationship

But when graduation rolled around, and other 1A couples were preparing to move in with each other, Kacchan asked Izuku and Kaminari and Kirishima to help him move into a spartan little studio apartment a five minute walk away from his agency

"You've got that offer from UA. It wouldn't make sense for you to commute all the way from out here."

Which was its own manageable sort of wound.

What wasn't manageable was watching Kacchan constantly try to get himself killed:

Some time during college, Kacchan had named Izuku as his emergency contact

It wasn't a romantic thing -- more a Mitsuki Bakugo was a lot to handle when healthy & uninjured, and while she absolutely knew how to tune it down when her son needed her, she would absolutely flame the shit out of Bakugo if she felt he was taking unnecessary risks

So Izuku got a first hand look at Kacchan's fucking death wish

It hadn't been obvious at first; when they were in college he'd just seemed driven, eager to finish his degree on time, eager to leverage it plus his experience to secure a position at one of the best agencies

(Which was ridiculous -- he'd saved the fucking world in his first year of high school; he would have personal recommendations from Endeavor and Aizawa-sensei and All Might -- but Izuku could pretend Kacchan's work ethic made sense, could speculate that maybe Kacchan had some plans for their future that required it)

But Kacchan graduated, and moved into his tiny ass apartment -- alone -- , and never let his foot up off the gas

He put in hours at his main agency, signed up for work with the Security Office, took on every overtime opportunity for community outreach events

He was always working, rarely left himself time to get more than a handful of hours of sleep, let alone time to really recharge

He started making mistakes

Oh, nothing that would get him removed from the agency or any of his other gigs, but the kind of things that left him taking more damage than he needed, the kind of mistakes he'd dedicated himself to beating out of Izuku in training over half a decade ago

With every injury the warnings piled up: take more sustained damage here and risk doing permanent harm to his hand, one more fall like that and he might sustain the kind of concussion it took a year or more to recover from, another shoulder dislocation and he was looking at permanent tendon damage

It would have been one thing if the injuries were unavoidable, but Izuku watched the footage, scoured the web for every angle of Kacchan's fights and rescues. It was exhaustion. Kacchan was reacting slower, taking more risks, because he was fucking exhausted

Izuku had tried to be patient, tried to be calm, but Kacchan was a bull-headed asshole who refused to take more than medically prescribed days off, or give up any of his side jobs, or reasonably explain why he was driving himself into the ground with nothing to show for it

"Is this what it was like watching me with One For All? Because I completely understand why you beat the shit out of me to make me stop!"

"I can't stop right now, Deku."

"So I'm just supposed to sit here and watch you get yourself killed?"

"I don't want you to leave."

"But you won't so much as take a day off to show me that I should stay?"

The silence had been deafening.

You could call it a break up, their friends in 1A did, but Izuku didn't think he and Kacchan were capable of closing the door on each other. Not permanently. Every time they'd walked away from each other in the past, they'd come back stronger, closer. But he'd be damned if Kacchan died because Izuku had been permissive.

So, for almost two years, Izuku's world got quieter:

He gave up almost half of the birthday gatherings ("Sorry I'm on dorm watch duty, Aizawa-sensei will kick my ass if I skip!" "Big field trip in the morning guys, I won't be able to make it this time." "Nobody told me essays would take this long to grade! I'll catch you next time, I promise!" Please, please, please take care of Kacchan for me.)

And teaching really did kick his ass: he needed to get familiar with UA curriculum from the teacher side (because of the League of Villains he'd barely seen the traditional coursework his first two years), he needed to tailor it to his own teaching style, had to figure out his teaching style, and grading, and student discipline, and managing practical exercises while quirkless

In between all of that, there were still calls from Kacchan's agency infirmary or the nearby hospital. Fewer than before. But.

Izuku spoke with Kacchan's doctors over the phone, determined whether the situation was a send-over-a-1A-in-the-morning or call-in-Mitsuki-now and reminded himself why he himself needed to stay put

That didn't stop him from showing up at All Might's statue on the anniversary of All For One's reemergence

They'd sat quietly next to each other for a while before:

"Deku..."

"Are you going to slow down?"

"I can't yet."

"Okay. Be careful, Kacchan."

And Kacchan sent Izuku a small Deku statuette on their anniversary, one of the niche merch items sold by artists local to either he and Kacchan's childhood neighborhood or the area Izuku had patrolled after Shigaraki's awakening. It reminded Izuku of that note Kacchan left for him their first morning together.

Needless to say, when All Might asked to meet him after class he couldn't have begun to expect The Suit.

"Explain. What do you mean Kacchan...and 1A? Explain."

All Might wasn't sure how long Kacchan and Hatsume had been working on the idea, but sometime before college graduation their near complete prototype had been completely destroyed during testing

This is when Kacchan had reached out to All Might and the Security Office: If the SO could hire Hatsume and fund the most basic form of the suit, they'd be able to use it to allow disabled heroes with valuable experience (All Might, Hawks, Mirko, etc) back in the field, even if just in the capacity to train young heroes; Kacchan would continue funding the unique features he wanted for specifically for Izuku's

As Kacchan had already funded the basis of the suit's research and the SO had already been looking to recruit Hatsume, they'd been able to solidify the deal

But, the materials needed to make the suit as safe as necessary were expensive, even with folks like Jeanist (who'd created a new fiber for the undersuit that would afford Izuku more protection should a battery explode, etc) volunteering their time for free

Around that time, class 1A had had the.....opportunity to confront Kacchan without Izuku present

Once they understood what Kacchan was up to, they created a fund to support the completion of the suit

Izuku had struggled then. He knew his eyes were leaking, but he didn't have time for the breakdown this deserved, because he needed to be across town. He needed to see Kacchan's stupid, beautiful, infuriating face.

He barely remembered leaving All Might (he would call him later with a proper thank you); he booked a rideshare, plugged in Kacchan's location (they'd started sharing it in 2nd year at UA -- "I'm not gonna be stressed that you've gotten yourself caught up in some mess without backup. What if the ember burns out mid-reckless decision? Share your location, nerd.") and spent the next 30 minutes trying to understand it all

Why Kacchan had been so hellbent on working all the time, why it had all gotten so much worse after graduation, the desperation he'd had to continue. "I can't yet."

After 20+ years of friendship, it finally struck Izuku that Kacchan was always telling him the important things in fucking decade old callbacks

"You were looking down on me, you thought you were better than me." That fight at Ground Beta revealing some long held misperception.

And now, he was thrown back to a hospital bed the day One For All died: "I thought I'd be on your heels for the rest of our lives."

Izuku had tried so hard then not to read into that. Had tried not to read into a simple statement more than Kacchan could possibly have been trying to say.

But, fuck that.

The car stopped before Izuku could work himself from incensed muttering to a full body scream

He was shocked to find himself in front of Kacchan's apartment, but the little blue bubble on the map indicated that Kacchan (or his phone at least) was in fact in the building in front of him

It was rare for Kacchan to actually be home, he usually just caught naps at his agency unless he was taking a rare 24 hours or more off

Izuku couldn't care about any of it. He quickly coded into the building and made his way up to Kacchan's room. He couldn't sort himself out enough to find the key and so instead spent 20 seconds banging loud enough on Kacchan's door to probably alarm the neighbors.

Kacchan answered the door groggy and gorgeous, but the bags under his eyes were a reminder of why Izuku was here

"Why, Kacchan?"

It took him a moment to respond. "All Might told you?" And then, after Izuku nodded, "What the fuck do you mean 'why'?"

"Why do all of this? Why work so hard just for --"

"Just for the person who gave their fucking everything to save the entire world? To give something back to the person entire governments were content to let take the fall for their failures? I don't know Deku. Maybe I wasn't content to watch the one person who did nothing wrong lose the one thing he wanted most. Maybe I wasn't okay with that karmic injustice. So I did something about it. Because you're worth more than being relegated to the sidelines."

Fuck

Whatever anger or confusion had been holding back the swell of Izuku's tears broke then in the face of Kacchan's sincerity

Izuku barely registered the door closing as Kacchan pulled Izuku out of the hallway and into his arms

Izuku cried. For a long time. For the unfairness he rarely let himself acknowledge. For the way Kacchan, as always, had identified the problem and started working on the solution before Izuku had even finished processing. For the way the burden of fixing everything always seemed to fall on them. For the time they'd lost. For the time they would continue to lose if Izuku couldn't find the courage to speak.

He braced himself against Kacchan's shoulder because facing Kacchan had always given him strength: "I love you, Katsuki Bakugo. A decade ago you told me about a future you'd imagined. A future for the both of us. Together. If this -- if all of this -- wasn't about us and forever, can you tell me now so I can try and find away to kill this hope?"

"Deku, shit --" here Kacchan pulled him closer, a hand to the back of Izuku's neck, the other finding Izuku's hand to lace their fingers together. "Yeah, this is about...us. Forever."

Izuku moved then, bodying Kacchan into the couch, pressing himself into Kacchan's chest

"Good. That's good. I'm moving in. But not here. We're finding a place where our bed isn't the living room and the bathroom isn't next to the pantry."

"Tell me how you really feel, asshole." Said so warmly as to be an endearment.

"And you're taking time off. Real time. And dropping at least one job."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, Kacchan."

"Pushy."

"You spent the better parts of the last decade working to get just this -- so you'll deal with it."

"Yeah I did." Kacchan ran a hand through Izuku's hair. "What else?"

"Whatever else is left to pay for, it's mine. I've been getting paid to live in the teacher's dorm for the last three years. I've got savings --"

"It's done, Deku. It's all -- with everyone chipping in, especially Todoroki with his dad's guilt money -- it's all taken care of."

"Huh. Okay. But repairs are mine. If the Security Office or our agency or whatever can't cover it, it's mine. You've done enough."

"Mm, maybe."

"No, Kacchan. I'm serious. I need you to rest. I need you to take care of yourself. Let me worry about me for a little. What would have been the point if you burn yourself out just as I'm getting started. I want what you said. Us. Together. Flawless victories."

AND THEN THEY HEROED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

[julianalvarez9]

CHANGE YOUR MIND / MASON MOUNT

SUMMARY: You never really liked Mason Mount, even before he came to your club. Turns out, he's a very persuasive man, who will do everything he can to change your mind.

PAIRING: mason mount x ten hag!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: mason is a lovesick fool, use of ten hag as a plot device i'm so sorry

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's been agesssss since i've posted something, so here's this! (something's that's been sitting in my drafts and i didn't dare finish for almost a month!). would reallyyyy love some feedback!

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, resting calmly over the cap of his car, hands hiding inside his pockets. Mason looks straight out of a movie; one where the protagonist is waiting for his lover outside of their home. You try to not think about that, or about the warm feeling in your chest, as you angrily make your way towards him.

Once you reach him, you're ready to voice your concerns about his presence in your parents' home. "What are you doing here?".

The urgency in your voice only made the Englishman grin harder, if that was even possible.

He shrugs, clearly not preoccupied about the matter. "Came to see a friend, offer her a ride to work". You roll your eyes, annoyed, because obviously, this is Mason. This is the same insufferable guy you've got to know for months now, ever since he signed for Manchester United.

By looking at the watch on your wrist, and knowing your dad's entire routine, you know you two are running out of time.  "C'mon, Mount, you need to leave!", you urge, and he tilts his head in confusion. "What? Why?," as if his entire life, at least, sport related, wasn't threatened by the man about to walk out the door.

"Did you hit yourself on the way here? Did you happen to forget who I live with?".

He shrugs, again, claiming "I don't mind". A second after, "he actually likes me. More than you do, at least". It's not the first snarky remark he throws your way, but it's still too early for you to pretend he hasn't got a special capacity for getting under your skin.

"I'd like to see if he continues to like you when he sees you talking to his daughter in his front yard".

You're right about that.

Yeah, Mason is your dad's new shiny toy, awarding him with being a constant feature in the starting eleven in every United game, but you doubt he'd be alright with whatever he's trying to do. After all, he never liked any of your past boyfriends, or friends who he -somehow- recognized as undeserving of his little girl, his only daughter. "I think he will," Mason says confidently, "I'm actually a great son-in-law, you know?".

You swear it is too early in the morning to have rolled your eyes the number of times you have in his presence, during the past three minutes. You ask, hopeful that the sly remark works to get him off your back. "Has being this cocky actually helped you, in some way?".

When his smile falters, you grin. It's probably the first time he doesn't have something, anything, to hit back, and you consider it a win for your side. "It did," he answers truthfully a beat after, and now his smile is bigger than ever. "Look, you're smiling at me".

You try, hard, to stop your cheeks from going red, but the way you can't really hold his stare any longer is a win for him. He basks in this feeling, knowing himself to be able to make you nervous must be a good sign, right?

At least, he hopes so.

"Okay, stop fucking around or you'll be late," you warn, coming close enough to him to push him off the hood of his car, and towards the driver's door. You try to ignore the way your fingers burn after touching him, deciding not to acknowledge the warning signs that something had changed in the past few weeks. You don’t despise him nearly as much, but you’re not keen on the idea of him knowing about it. Yet.

Mason opens the door of his car, and gets in. You nervously watch back, to the entrance door, after seeing what time it is. 9:13 AM. Your father will be out the door, any second now.

You hope that, the next time you look to the street, the car will be gone, and any trace of the Englishman vanished, like a dream. But instead, when you turn again, the tinted window of his car is down, and he's looking mischievously at you. "Already caring for me? that's new, Ten Hag".

"Go away, Mount".

Hearing the door open, just a few seconds after seeing Mason's car disappear from your street, makes your blood turn cold. The piercing question from your father doesn't make things better. "What are you doing over there?". There’s nothing you could possibly say that will convince your father, and saying the truth isn’t a possibility right now; so, instead, you defuse the question. "Nothing, nothing. Are you ready to leave now?".

The way to Trafford Training Centre is quiet. Your father isn't one to talk much normally, but the silence squishes you until you feel like you're holding your breath. He knows, you're sure, and you’re gonna make Mason pay for it. 

That’s it, if you reach the training ground alive.

"You know, I think Mason is a good kid".

The affirmation is nowhere what you had expected your father to say, so you can’t hide the furrowed brows and defensive tone that comes along with it. "We're in first name base already? Wow, that's new".

The car stops in the red light, and your dad takes the time to turn his head in your direction. He sees your fixed gaze ahead, brows still furrowed, and his head tilts in confusion. "And he's trying really hard to get in your good graces".

"That's not true".

A beat.

"I saw him this morning".

After that, you're left waiting; either, for the disapproving voice in his tone, the yelling, or the pointing out reasons why you shouldn’t be this close to a player, much less someone like him. But instead, he’s silent. And somehow, the silence is scarier.

The air feels thick, and it’s scarily similar to how it feels when a storm is brewing. Hot, too heavy, and like the entire sky is about to fall apart. And a few minutes after, with the car finally parked, and the training center standing tall just a few meters ahead, Erik begins to talk.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Whatever it is”. In other circumstances, you’d laugh at the way he signaled with his hand when saying it, almost like dismissing the entire ordeal, as if he still, so many years after introducing other boyfriends in the past few years -not one that’s worth mentioning, though-, refused to acknowledge that his little girl is not so little anymore.

“I know I always said it’s not a good idea. And I still don’t think it is,” he remarks, but holds a finger up before you can’t argue against what he’s saying, “but, as I said, he’s a good kid. And, most importantly, he’s aware that if he breaks your heart, he won’t play anymore, so-”.

The horror in your eyes must be evident, because he starts laughing before you can tell him off because of his antics. “Dad!”.

“So, you can go out with him. Just don't break his heart, yeah?” You can’t even respond because he gets off the car then, taking his things with him before closing the car door. Yes, you come in together, but since you insist on keeping family business out of the club, Erik begins making his way in alone.  “Could really use my star player having a great season".

In the distance, you can see Mason; he’s smiling widely, with a coffee cup in his hand, and standing just by the door. He opens it, to let your dad in, and you shake your head in feign disapproval.  “Right, Mount?,” Erik calls, alluding to his previous statement; the one he can’t possibly have heard, given how far he was when he said the words. Between the three of you, you’re not the only one that knows that it’s a test, so Mason answers accordingly.

“Yes, sir, of course”.

[butchspace]

I guess I kind of just use this account for PSAs now, and this has been on my mind a lot lately.

I figured out that I have OCD a few years ago, and recently I’ve seen a lot of bad advice around dealing with intrusive thoughts and obsessions.

There’s that post that goes around occasionally about “taking pictures of your oven knobs before you leave” or other things I’ve seen that say to “make a weird face when you lock your door.” THESE ARE COMPULSIONS. If you have/suspect you have OCD or you often struggle with things like that, please do not follow this advice. Instead, try to accept your intrusive thoughts and move on, not argue with them. Over time, they will get easier and easier to deal with. Ruminating, stressing, or arguing with them just makes them worse in the long run.

If you think you might have OCD and want to seek a specialist, the IOCDF’s home page has a lot of resources under the “find help” tab, including a locator.

I’m going to put the rest under a read-more because I’m going to talk a bit more in depth about intrusive thoughts and compulsions. This mostly because good OCD info is so sparse on line, and I’ve spent many hours compulsively researching OCD lmao.

Content warning:

discussion of unreality/doubting one’s own perception

discussion of specific compulsions

I’m not going to push this point too hard or shame anyone who doesn’t want to follow it, because OCD doesn’t really just go away. It’s a constant struggle. I give in to compulsions regularly, even though I am medicated and have seen a specialist to learn actual coping skills. It’s hard to resist sometimes and you don’t always have the energy, the awareness, or the power to ignore them. You do what you have to do to get through your day. The main difference is that the right medication and the right therapist make it easier to stay out of the spiral and to leave a spiral when you’re in one. They still happen. You still kind of have to play everything by ear.

Similarly, it is super fucking hard to get help or even get diagnosed. No regular therapist actually knows what the fuck it looks like, and specialists are few and far between and often don’t take insurance. It’s not fair or easy or necessarily productive to try and do exposure response prevention on yourself. Your “good coping skills” can even turn into an obsession or compulsion, where you’re constantly worried about what is an intrusive thought and what is not, or if you’re responding to them properly.

What I want to do is try to give at least some useful advice to people who are struggling with intrusive thoughts.

The best way to respond to them is not at all. This is especially true with OCD, because the response to them is sort of the root of this disorder. Sometimes, it’s recommended that with depression or anxiety you challenge your thoughts. In OCD, it’s the opposite. Challenging them can so easily lead you down a compulsion spiral. (More about that cycle from a professional.)

Compulsions can be entirely mental, but I’ll use a common behavioral one to look at how engaging with compulsions can go:

You start by taking a picture of the your stove knobs to make sure they’re all off. That works for a few hours or days, but then you start wondering if the knob is ever-so-slightly in the “on” position. You wonder if the picture proves they’re off enough. You forget to take the picture at all, and have to go back in to check anyways. You check your phone a few times before leaving to ensure that the picture is still there. You take several pictures because you can’t tell if you actually took any at all. You start to wonder if you can even trust what you see before your very eyes. What if you’re just imagining that the knobs are set to off? What if you’re just imagining the whole picture to begin with? The picture allows you to engage with your checking compulsion throughout the day, strengthening the connection between the intrusive thought and the urgency to do something about it. That means it gets worse. That means you find new ways to doubt your perception or your memory or whatever.

It can eventually get really bad. It’s hard and awful to try and deal with this on your own, but sometimes you have to.

It’s so shit. It’s so fucking shit how long many people suffer with mental illness without even knowing what’s going on. I didn’t know that my constant, overwhelming guilt over almost everything I’d ever thought or said or done or maybe did and couldn’t remember was the result of a disorder. It was so freeing to realize there was actually something that might help me, and I could learn to just live with myself and my weird ass thoughts that don’t necessarily mean anything at all. It’s so shit that OCD-awareness is so low among therapists. I was never going to get diagnosed until I found an OCD SPECIALIST (bold, italicized, all caps. Don’t trust people on psychology today who just put OCD in the list of what they treat.) and went over the Y-BOCS with her. It’s all so shit that several therapists I came to with textbook examples of OCD either ignored me or didn’t have the tools to help. I told one of them I “didn’t feel connected to reality” and he kind just went 🤷.

I just want everyone who is in that/a similar situation to at least have this information available to them.

If you want to learn more, these blogs from Sheppard Pratt were the best discussion of OCD I found online that really described what I was going through. They’re written by licensed therapists, several (all?) of whom live with OCD. They’re very healing to read if this is something you’re struggling with, or something you think you might be struggling with, and great in general if you want to learn more about OCD.

Whatever’s going on, OCD or not, have some grace with yourself. Take a few minutes today and do something kind for yourself, even just think one nice thing about yourself. You’re doing the best you can.

[r0se1111]

Stan Pines x Reader

This man won't leave my head get OUT!! Ford is a little hm... silly in this I love the guy but he was kinda crazy at this point rip. Loosely based on this. Might continue but I'll prob diverge from the og post a bit for completely selfish hurt/comfort purposes >:)

1982

You hadn't planned on getting your best friend sucked into a portal that leads to who knows where. You'd begged him to stop, trying desperately to convince him that together you'd figure something else out. But once Fiddleford left in a fit of hysteria, there was no one else to make sure Ford didn't end up killing himself over this project.

Maybe he'd be better off that way. Not floating past incomprehensible dimensions, armed with only a pair of out-of-date glasses and a worn coat. The bitter thought crosses your mind for a moment before the crushing guilt of even considering that punches you in the gut.

But no, you had stayed by his side, his ever-faithful research assistant. Every time you saw the dark circles under his eyes, the shake in his hands, and the madness written across his pale face, your heart just broke.

So when he'd told you he had reached out to his brother for help, and when his brother actually showed up, you could have cried tears of raw relief. Stan, as he introduced himself, was a little rough around the edges, broader and a bit taller than Ford, but had the same sort of tired wild hope in his eyes as Ford did when he was convinced the portal "just has to work this time!" And when Ford snapped at you in his exhaustion, Stan was quick to fly his hand out in front of you as if he could physically shield you from your friend's words. You decided then and there that you trusted him.

Things got worse as Ford explained his plan to his brother, all but pushing him out the door in his urgency to hide those damn journals. The two quickly fell into a fist-fight, you frantically hitting at shoulders and tugging at rouge elbows as you attempted to break them apart. Then you watched, horrified, as Ford floated through the air and into the blue glowing veil of the portal, disappearing from this dimension.

You heard the power shut off, and vaguely heard Stan screaming something you couldn't make out over the ringing of your ears and beating of your heart. Your wide eyes started blankly through the circle of the portal, as if you would see Ford simply standing on the other side.

You didn't.

Hands roughly grabbed your shoulders and a figure knelt down to make eye contact with you. Before your eyes focused and you could only process the basic shapes of that face, you had a wild thought that it was Ford, that the events of the past few minutes were just a bad, stress-fueled dream. But when you returned that hard stare, you saw longer hair and a slight raised scar across a lip moving in speech.

"You can get it to work, right? You made this with him?" Stan kneaded the skin of your shoulder, whether to soothe himself or you, you couldn't tell. His voice sounded raw and tired in fear and overuse, and it cracked a little with his desperate questioning. You gulp and stand, methodically walking to the control panel and repeating steps you had practiced hundreds of times before. Except, just like 99 out of 100 times before, there was no flicker of blue, no jolt of energy that brought Ford back. You tried again. No response. Again. Nothing.

You stood there working the knobs and buttons, doing the math in your head for what seemed like hours, until your hands were numb, and you were aware of tears wetting your cheeks. That hand was back, doing that funny little kneading motion which actually did a damn good job of grounding you.

"Hey... Y/N, right?"

You jerk your head around to look at Stan and see that he had those same tell-tale wet marks running down his cheeks. He had been watching you for all that time. His lips looked red and bitten at, and he'd lost that nice warm splash of color in his face. It suddenly hits you that while you'd lost your best friend, this guy had lost his brother. A wave a nausea makes you keel over.

"Oh-oh god," You choke out, pulling away from his comforting touch. You don't deserve it, not now. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. Jesus, he's your brother Stan and I- I took him away, I let him do this-"

Stan is looking at you with a complicated expression, almost like he's in physical pain. He pulls his hand away from where he'd reached out again for you and formed a tight fist against his thigh. "You didn't-" A quick, sharp sigh. "Look." He brings his hands up to fiddle with his fingers in front of his stomach. "This whole situation is fucked, and if anyone is to blame for it it's not you. I want," He cuts off into another hitched breath and you notice his hands are shaking too. "I need to fix this." Stan fixes you with a suddenly determined gaze. "But I don't know shit about..." He gestures vaguely to the mess of buttons and pasted notes before you.

"You want my help." You don't ask, because there's no question about it. Of course you're helping. Even if this Stan guy had kicked you out and told you to get lost, you'd figure something out to get Ford back. Even if Stan turns out to be completely hopeless and obnoxious, you are staying in this sleepy little town and this run-down shack until your friend is home.

Stan nods, and the way he mutters a hoarse "please" makes you think he's not used to how that word feels, tastes. He's tangling his fingers together again, looking like a guilty kid awaiting his punishment. Your heart clenches. This guy is gonna kill me. You decide then and there that you were going to take good care of him.

This time it's you who reaches forward to press the weight of your hand into his shoulder. "I promise you, Stan, I'm not going anywhere until Ford is back."

Stan looks up at you and you realize those dark eyes you can never say no to run in the family. You spend a moment categorizing Stan's features, how his mouth twitches a little further left when he frowns, and how his strong nose looks a little snow-burned, red and raw. You stare at him a bit longer, feeling penitent and dizzy with the weight of the night's events.

Turning back to the control panel, you pick up a notebook haphazardly leaned against the wall the panel was tucked into. You flip it open to a miraculously blank page and rummage through your pocket for your spare pen. You let Stan lean into your space then begin writing. "So, quantum mechanics..."

[lily-fics-11]

The Girl Next Door: Chapter 8 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here

Tag list: @avocifera @academiareid @fictionalgap @dynsdiary @sndixz @athenalive @lamoobsessions @eloud12 @whoopsiedaisy460 @kittenchae

(feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

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The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 8

Synopsis: After resolving some miscommunication, things heat up with Hazel. Also between Jeff and Mrs. Callahan, and of course the bomb that gets planted under Jeff’s car.

Word count: 4k

CW: Profanities, mentions of cheating, heated making out, mentioning being turned on, one use of the word binge but not in reference to ed, a bomb and explosion

*Not beta read

@reiisstuff asked about seeing things from Hazel’s POV so I tried it out a little bit in this chapter, not sure if it went well or not (writing like this without a name is really hard lol) so let me know what you think :)

Hazel walks you to your front door and gives you a hug. With her arms still wrapped around your waist she pulls the upper part of her body away from yours to take a good look at your face. Her eyes wander over you dreamily until they stop on your lips. As she leans in you close your eyes, only for her to press her soft lips to your cheek. 

You open your eyes, feeling disappointed that Hazel hadn’t just kissed you right on the lips. She sees that on your face and looks terrified. She lets go of you and stumbles backwards.

“I gotta go,” she stammers and she takes off before you can explain yourself. 

Fuck. Fuck! FUCK! You really ruined things, didn’t you.

Pulse racing, you take some deep breaths and run a hand through your hair. Wanting to go after her is being weighed against not wanting to push her to talk before she is ready. You will reach out in an hour or so to see if she is up for it. 

Tears threaten to well up in your eyes. Hazel is hurt, and it’s your fault. Hazel ran away, and she may never come back. You push through the front door to avoid talking to your mom.

You go up to your room and flop down on your bed. You wipe the tears from your eyes and FaceTime Brittany, you know from the snap map that her and Isabelle are together. 

“Heyyyyyy bitch!” Brittany says when she picks up the phone. After she gets a good look at you her face drops. “Oh my god are you like, okay?”

“I thought you had your date with Hazel?” Isabelle asks in a more soothing tone. 

“I did. And it actually was a date. And it went so well. And then she kissed me…” the two of them audibly gasp. “But on the cheek, and she saw that I was disappointed and got upset. But I was only disappointed because I wanted her to actually kiss me.”

Brittany is the first to grill you for more details. “Did you tell her that?”

“No she ran off, I didn’t get the chance to.” 

“Oh noooo,” Brittany groans.

“You gotta talk to her!” Isabelle demands with urgency.

“I don't want to push her to talk if she's not ready.”

“Just, just, just… send her a text!” Brittany stutters before pulling herself together and suggesting that you say you want to talk, whenever it works for her.

You open up your messages with Hazel to type out a text. Before sending it you read it outloud so it can be approved by the council: I wanted to let you know that I had a great time tonight, I would love to talk about it whenever you get the chance.

“That sounds good,” Isabelle promises you.

You press send then throw the phone to the side and your friends question why they can’t see you anymore.

“Sorry guys, I'm just nervous.” You sigh without actually picking up your phone.

“It’s just Hazel,” Brittany tries to reason with you, “you guys have had like, way bigger drama than this before. And figured it out. Everything is going to be ok.”

You aimlessly play with your hair. “I hope you’re right.”

“Hazel isn’t like your ex,” Isabelle’s voice is soft and tender. She is the best at comforting people with her loving demeanor and understanding of emotions. “She’s not going to gaslight and blame you for everything.”

All you can do is echo her words. “Hazel isn’t like that.”

“Let’s keep you distracted while we wait for her to answer,” Brittany suggests. You and your best friends start to debrief about the latest episode of a show that you all watch. In the middle of the conversation your phone buzzes and you scream.

“Oh my god are you ok?” Brittany shouts.

“My phone buzzed,” you answer shyly, a little embarrassed by what may have been a slight overreaction. 

“Is it her?” Isabelle asks without acknowledging that you screamed like you were being stabbed.

You look at the notification and scream again. 

“I’m guessing it was her?” Isabelle chuckles, though she tries to muffle it.

You roll your eyes and get as close to a smile as you can under these circumstances. “How’d you know?” That elicits some giggles. “What do I do?”

“I would probs read it,” Brittany suggests teasingly, “but that’s just me.”

“That’s def better than screaming,” Isabelle nods in agreement.

You read the message out loud: having a bit of a rough night, stuff with my mom. If you still want to drive to the car wash together tomorrow we could talk then?

“TOMORROW? I HAVE TO WAIT UNTIL TOMORROW?”

Brittany promises that her and Isabelle will be over to pick you up as soon as possible. They spend the night keeping you sane.

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You wake up an hour before your alarm after falling in and out of sleep all night. 

You are out on your front porch about a half hour early. Hazel comes outside just a few minutes after. Approaching tentatively, she takes a seat next to you, not too close, but also not too far. 

Hazel is the one to break the ice. “I’m really sorry about yesterday.”

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” you promise her.

Her palm meets her forehead and she mumbles “you didn’t want to be kissed.”

“That’s not it.”

“Then what was it?”

“I just wanted…” you bite your lip for a moment, in disbelief that you are really saying this to her, “more.”

“More? What does ‘more’ mean?” Hazel questions with her head tilted to the side like a curious puppy.

You nervously play with your hair. “I wanted you to actually kiss me, on the lips. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did, I should have been more respectful of your boundaries.”

Hazel slides closer to you. “Believe me, I wanted to kiss you. I’ve been dying to, barely even able to stop myself any time we make eye contact. But I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

You giggle as you grab the girl you love by her shirt and pull her close. When her lips finally meet yours, after years of waiting, the kiss exceeds your expectations by miles. You expected sparks, but this is fireworks. Beautiful, brightly colored, and explosive. 

One of Hazel’s hands holds your face, her other arm wrapping around your waist. You keep her close to you, still by her shirt, but also the back of her neck. The two of you get lost in eachother, savoring the taste, binging like it’s your last meal. 

Hazel pulls you onto her lap, your legs straddling her waist. Your lips move together, you breathe at the same pace, your tongues explore each other's mouth. The world has stopped around you until you hear someone call “Hazel?”

The two of you disconnect to see Mrs. Callahan is laughing.

“Finally!” She yells. You and Hazel look at eachother with bulging eyes and red faces from the heat of the moment, along with the embarrassment.

“We were actually just leaving,” Hazel tells her mom, voice strained. She grabs your hand and pulls you to the car, practically running, to avoid having to talk to her mom. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hazel’s POV

My… not girlfriend and I arrive at the school parking lot early. We make our predictions about what we think everyone will be doing at the car wash. Isabelle already told everyone that she is going to be selling used panties to any weird old men that show up, she knows as a cheerleader that they love having their cars washed by teenage girls. Then there is PJ, who will be bitching about something while Josie tries to reason with her. Stella will put on her car convention smile.

I am absolutely exhausted, so when everyone trickles in and gets to work I sit down in the middle of the parking lot. My adorably supportive neighbor sits with me. PJ and Josie stand close by, unsurprisingly chatting instead of helping.

The ears of the cute girl sitting next to me perk up when Josie mentions that she is hanging out with Isabelle tonight. Isabelle and Josie in the same sentence is unusual, but I don’t have it in me to pay any attention.

I am so worn out that I groan in frustration. PJ’s head snaps around to look at me. “Hazel, what is wrong? Are you constipated or something?” She is clearly not asking because she is concerned, but because she is annoyed. 

“I’m fucking tired, my mom was up all night fucking the meathead.”

“What meathead?” PJ looks a little intrigued. I think it should be obvious that I’m talking about that one specific dude. He is THE meathead, leader of all the other meat heads. Josie notices PJ paying attention so she does too.

“You know, like, the guy.” No reaction. “He’s like the crybaby,” I look around at the three girls and they are still not getting it. “With balls,” I offer up but get nothing but blank stares in return. “He catches them and he… he throws them.” I’m trying to explain the sport that he and all those other guys with matching outfits and shoulder pads play, but it didn't help. “He’s like…” I pause for a moment to find the right words, “the main guy.” I can see the moment they catch on in their facial expressions.

“J-Jeff?” Josie stutters. “Is your mom hooking up with Jeff?”

“I just thought Jeff might be a safe word,” I admit sheepishly, I never made the connection. 

“Jeff is his name, you idiot!” PJ barks at me. My girlfriend, I mean best friend, almost jumps up at PJ but I put out my arm to stop her. I know she is glaring right now without even looking over, but I don’t like confrontation.

“I just get all the hot people confused, Jesus” I mumble. They all wear the same clothes, how am I supposed to tell them apart? 

We hear a yelp and all four of us look over in its direction to see what happened. Stella is on the ground, but she pops right back up and calls out “I’m good!”

“Looking good Stella!” PJ assures her before looking back and forth between my neighbor and Josie. “Are you gonna tell her?”

“Well she should probably hear it in person,” the beautiful girl next to me murmurs gloomily.

Josie sighs and bites her lip. “I’m going to see her tonight, I can tell her. It might be easier to hear it from someone less involved.”

Everyone nods their heads in defeated agreement. Josie and PJ go back to talking to each other. I lean over, not just because I want to get as close to this girl as I can get, but to say “I swear I was going to tell you about Jeff as soon as I got the chance. I was just distracted this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it Haze,” I’m assured with a sweet smile, “I was distracted too. Even though this will hurt Isabelle she's been through this before, and she might actually leave Jeff this time. And she is so much better off without him. I’m worried about you too. You’re mom fucking around with Jeff… I can’t even imagine how that makes you feel. And the fact that they did it all night and you had to hear it? Fucking disgusting. You are staying with me until everything gets sorted out.”

I look away from her when I tell her that I don't want to be a burden.

She puts her arm around me, and turns my face towards her with her soft hand. That earns a side eye from Josie and PJ. “Hazel, you could never be a burden to me.” I momentarily get lost in her honest eyes before I wrap my arms around her to give her a hug. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I admit with tears in my eyes. “I don’t know how I did it all these years.”

“I’m always going to be here. You don’t ever have to be alone again.”

After the car wash we drive home and I quietly go into my house to grab the essentials. Toothbrush, charger, school bag to get work done, that sort of thing. Just enough clothing that I can wear what I need of my own, and steal the rest like the love of my life is actually my girlfriend. 

After arriving next door we had lunch with her mom. With a push from the beautiful girl I finally got to kiss today, I explained everything going on at home. Having always been like a second mom to me it was so nice to have a maternal figure there to listen and reassure me. That really takes my feelings into consideration. 

When we are done eating and debriefing, me and my not girlfriend go upstairs to her room. 

I want her to be my girlfriend, of course. More than anything else, if I'm being honest. But I guess right now she is just my girl. At least I think so.

My girl gets comfortable in bed and I lay down with my head in her lap. She twirls her fingers through my hair and I get lost in her eyes the way I always do, entranced by her smile, basking in her presence. 

When she leans down and kisses me her lips absorb every thought out of my head aside from her. At first she is gentle, but soon enough I’m tasting her tongue. I breathe in her familiar scent and it’s intoxicating. She has flooded all of my senses and it’s a high that undoubtedly, no drug could ever match. 

She pulls away dazed, lips puffy, cheeks adorably pink. I sit up and climb over her to straddle her waist. I lean her back against the pillows and she licks her lips, watching me with starry eyes. 

I take a moment to admire her beauty, like I’m assessing a priceless work of art. 

“What?” She questions with a giggle that is basically a siren song to me..

I lean in and whisper “I just can’t get enough of you,” and she shudders from the feeling of my warm breath on her neck. I shift to hover over her face and she grabs me by the back of my neck to roughly kiss me. Her other hand tangles into my hair. 

We move in sync like our lips were made to be connected. She bites my bottom lip and I moan into her mouth. We start so eager, overcome with desire. It only continues to grow until we are both winded from having been breathing in one another instead of air. 

“I don’t want to move too fast,” I admit, trying not to pant. 

“Me neither, I want to savor every moment.”

I kiss my girl’s forehead and roll over next to her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her as close to me as possible.

We start binge watching a show together and I couldn’t ask for anything more in this moment. 

After dinner with her mom, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen takes me outside to make s'mores, like we always used to. She knows it’s my favorite so she came up with the idea while trying to figure out ways to cheer me up. More kissing would have worked, but her thinking that much about it melts my heart. 

While we are snuggled up by the fire, the stars light up the sky, and the Crickets are chirping. 

That is until a phone pings, I thought it was mine at first but it wasn’t. Isabelle has texted the council saying “Jeff cheated again. Come to my place tomorrow at noon.”

The replies she receives are full of heart emojis, I loves you’s, and reminders that she is a baddie. 

When the phone gets locked I see a teary eyed reflection on the dark screen. I look over at the prettiest crying I have ever seen. “I just hate seeing her go through this again. She deserves so much better.”

I wipe some of the tears off her face and try to look on the bright side. “Maybe she will be done with him now.”

“I hope so,” she sighs.

As it starts to get late we get ready for bed and watch a sappy rom com. I get comfortable and she lays in my arms, holding me back just as tightly. She nuzzles her head into the crook of my neck. 

My beautiful girl falls asleep halfway through the movie so I kiss her forehead and close my eyes. I don’t fall asleep right away, I just live in this moment that I have been dreaming of for years.

We wake up tangled together and share soft sweet kisses before we realize just how hungry we are. We make pancakes for breakfast and make a huge mess in the kitchen. After cleaning up we part ways, her for Isabelle’s house and me for home. Hesitantly, I open the front door and am very relieved to not hear any suspicious noises.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

You and Britany spend your Sunday curating the perfect revenge outfit for Isabelle, formulating a battle plan, and hyping her up. 

Isabelle is heated all of Monday morning as she preps herself to confront Jeff. She wants to do it at lunch, so everyone can see. Embarrass him the way he embarrasses her whenever he cheats. 

We have one last check in before Isabelle storms into the cafeteria towards the football table. Anyone or anything in her way gets pushed aside, capturing everyone’s attention. Her high heels clicking on the floor is the only sound to be heard, everyone has gone silent. The whole school watches her on her warpath, in awe. 

You and Brittany stay behind, but Hazel follows along as the eye witness. You can’t really hear what is being said until Jeff points at Hazel and yells “shut up nerd! I fucked your mom!”

Moments later Isabelle pivots back around and struts towards you and the rest of the girls in fight club. “I’m getting revenge,” she announces. “I’m gonna fuck up some football players and I’m buying a gun.”

A few girls throw out more ideas as you all follow Isabelle out of the cafeteria. Hazel, who is trailing behind, suggests “or what about, like… a bomb?”

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, too shocked to speak. Hazel continues oblivious to everyone’s shock. “Like a, like a super small bomb. I mean, they are really easy to make, and I can just… put it under his car, and it can be a distraction.” You're suddenly reminded of a suspiciously bomb-like device you had seen in Hazel’s room.

PJ is the only one able to put enough together words to reply. “Yeah Hazel, let’s do terrorism.” Hazel gives her a small nod of approval. 

The members of the fight club begin to disperse. Hazel puts her arm around your shoulders and asks “would you want to work on a project with me tonight, before the whole revenge thing?”

You start to panic because you have no idea what project she is talking about. “Wait for which class? When is it due? I don’t even remember being assigned a project!” Everything going on with Hazel must really be messing with your brain.

“Oh no, not a school project. Something more…” She pauses to scratch the back of her head and find the right word. “... recreational.”

“Haze, what does that even mean?”

“The bomb…” she says nonchalantly, looking particularly mischievous.

Your wide eyes stare into hers. “You aren’t actually going to make a bomb, are you?”

Hazel flashes an enchanting smile that you can’t resist. “Does Jeff not deserve it?”

“Fuck it, let's make a bomb.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After school you and Hazel build a fucking bomb. Just in her room, like it's completely normal. You never expected to be in this situation but watching her wielding this power kind of turns you on.

The bomb is rather simple to make, and Hazel already has all the supplies. Questioning that isn't even worth it at this point. You help out by holding wires and passing over tools. She is so hyper fixated, and you are slightly afraid of an explosion, so you don’t talk any more than necessary during the process. 

After sundown the fight club meets up at Annie’s house, she has a van that could (technically) fit everyone. She drives, Brittany calls shotgun, and everyone else crams into the back. You are the last one to get in so you aren’t even sure you will fit. The entire volume is practically occupied.

“Uh…” Josie says looking around for a solution. Her eyes land on your neighbor and she smirks, “you can just sit on Hazel’s lap, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s fine.” You hear a few giggles and whispers, none of which are coming from PJ, who is giving you a death glare out of the corner of her eye. Hazel wraps her arms around your waist to keep you from falling over and rests her chin on her shoulder. All while looking over at PJ, to tell her to fuck off without actually saying it. You can’t tell whether it is you or Hazel that PJ is jealous of. 

The fight club spills out of the van and disperses to start their assigned tasks. You will be assisting Hazel with putting the bomb under Jeff’s car. She slides under like a mechanic and gets to work while you hold a box of tools. You become increasingly more anxious as time passes. Hazel had made it seem like it wouldn’t take too long when explaining the plan, and you can hear her cursing under her breath. You can’t help but imagine getting blown to pieces in front of Jeff’s house, but your undying love for Hazel keeps you by her side. 

“Like fifteen minutes…” Hazel says to herself before you hear a ticking that sounds dangerously like a countdown to an explosion like you hear on tv. Is this thing about to blow? Right now?

You fears are confirmed when Hazel starts yelling “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!” as she scrambles out from under the car. She grabs your hand and drags you to start running with her. You hear a large boom behind you. You are flooded with the warmth of the heat being radiated  by the blazing fire. Looking back to see the burning car makes you feel like an actress in an action movie. A romantic comedy had always been desired with Hazel, but a little action doesn’t hurt. Anyone but Jeff’s car, that is.

Everyone piles into the van; you end up on Hazel’s lap again (even though you didn’t have to). Everyone cheers as Josie slams on the gas pedal, driving dangerously over the speed limit.

[lucybellwood]

A note for you, if you're feeling overwhelmed.

Your brain may not work like my brain, but the thing that enabled me to make donations to families fleeing Rafa and support a new community garden in my neighborhood and call my senators and representatives about vaccine access and Long COVID research funding this morning wasn't scrolling frantically across the internet. It was

sitting quietly with a cup of tea and taking deep breaths for five minutes.

That's it.

I often tell myself that urgency is the fuel of action, but the truth (for me) is that it's usually the fuel of panic. Panic rarely leads to action that's aligned with my values. I spin out and procrastinate and try doing things that feel "good" while knowing they don't actually feed the part of me that knows what's right.

If you are feeling overwhelmed by urgency today,

stop.

I know it is energizing and sparkly to be here and your brain is fizzing and there's so much to take in and there's a funny photo of a cat and people are dying and you want to help everyone and also post about something weird your friend said.

Give yourself a moment to step away from the computer or your phone. See if you can write down (with your hands! on paper! messily!) the thoughts and causes that are swirling around you. Make them physical. Look over your collection of Things and consider how they align with what you care about. Acknowledge that some of them are scarier than others, but that the scary, charged ones are the ones that will probably bring you the most relief.

Allow yourself to do one (1) thing.

If you feel the urge to keep going, pick another, but remember that just making time and space to focus on one action, from beginning to completion, is a huge accomplishment and a gift to the people you care about (including yourself).

You can do it.

[lillysilvermoon]

Qualities of your SP

Hi everyone! Hope yall are doing great, as I promised the Tarot Reading who won was Qualities of your SP, but don't worry, tomorrow I'll post What June will bring to you? (College starts Monday so I'll do my very best to make 2 readings tomorrow and post What are your psychics abilities? In the middle of the week). NOW let's get into the reading!

Pile 1

The reading is about qualities but I feel someone need to kind know something about what its going on with them??? (This is totally NOT planned but it's what I'm feeling). See, this is for a VERY specific person, below y'all gonna see the characteristics but this message has to be given to someone about their SP so, if you don't feel it's for you just continue the reading to see their characteristics!!

Hum, okay. Right now they going through a very thought situation, there is something ending in their lives but they aren't accepting and this is just making everything awful - with ends comes new begins and opportunities, but since they aren't accepting they are stuck. The cards literally complete each other, 10 of swords talks about endings and the importance of them for new things, but they are so strongly holding on that they are turning down opportunities, and the sad is: they are regretting doing this.

They are a very gentle soul, with and because of the others cards, I fell like they are imbalanced with their feminine and masculine side.

(END OF THE MESSAGE)

They are kind, like arts in all forms, very creative too, they like to use all their senses. They like to enjoy the pleasures life has to offer.

4ofC is astrologically aassociated with the moon in cancer, this card carries a passive receptive energy (and since you got the Empress too they definitely have more of feminine energy).

They have very "Je ne sais quoi" that many envy, they mastered the art of looking effortless. They don't follow trends and honestly don't care about them, very laid back and chill and youthful energy. They eat what they want when they want and workout when they feel like it, they believe life is to short. Hmm okay wait, they have too a big masculine energy, but because of things they have gone through they can look careless is selfish, but they are actually very kind and gentle, you will feel safe with them.

This is a general reading so: for some of you this person can be extremely toxic, with victim mentality, prone to overreactions and drama. What I'm picking up is: they are is a bad place right now, but this isn't who they are. They are NOT bad, narcissistic is anything, but they have gone through a lot and aren't their best right now (I feel you SP has been very judged by others because I feel so protective over them it's crazy like, has this urgency to say how they aren't evil or bad they are just so... omg they don't even know they just feel miserable but they have a good, kind, gentle side and it's their true self).

(Sorry pile 1 but I feel this is what you were needing to see right now😞)

Signs: scorpio, pisces, libra, house number 2, Jupiter and venus placements.

Pile 2

Hi pile 2, let's get into your reading!

They have "the whole package". They are smart, funny, and physically attractive (whatever it is for you), very masculine energy (saturn) and this is a VERY major part of their identity because it's from a major Arcana (The World) - wow pile 2 you guys are so lucky 😍 -

They are definitely into self care and they take very good care not just of their body but of their souls too, they may be into meditation or yoga, tai chi chuan.

They can be in a career who have to travel a lot, very into teamwork and social friendly, practical and effective in communication, they like to share and talk about the things they do/products they use and recommend to theirs friends, they like team sports.

Definitely someone very kind and compassionate, great with children, can be a people pleaser sometimes (but since this is minor arcana I feel this isn't too much a part of their personality, but can happen!)

They doesn't have a big ego, it's the kind of person who make you feel like you are in this together, when romantically involved would make everything to make the relationship works.

This isn't for everyone but, for some here they can also be someone that makes you feel like they are hiding something or keeping a secret from you - for some this means that they are someone who likes to make surprises to you;

They can be someone obsessed over some part of they physical appearance and go to extremes to preserve it, like work out a lot, have a extreme diet or be obsessed with eat only healthy foods, very regimented skincare routine etc, may have trust issues, struggle with repressive emotions, be closed off, would benefit from therapy but probably aren't open to the idea

(At this point feel like this group is divided into a healthy person and someone who needs to do shadow work, talk to a professional and probably receive a HUGE hug)

Signs: moon, mercury, Mars (saints! definitely masculine energy), aries, aquarius and Taurus.

Pile 3

I got to say: you are my favorite pile, Gods your SP is just SO CUTE and wonderful. Honestly the healthiest one here (what's going on with people now day huh???). But let's get into your reading, shall we?

Omg I am SO EXCITED I'm sorry I just can, this SP is romantic and sensible and has a LOT of pieces energy; takes great care of the appearance and makes their health a priority, dress casually but you can tell they made some effort to look sharp, empathetic and compassionate, you probably won't see them judging others, emotionally balanced, unafraid of their masculine sides, they are daring and take risks - 100% would call you on a date without fear of a "no" - also they support their feminine side by embracing their emotions, will make you believe chivalry is still here, they make you feel charmed but not manipulated.

They are a very happy, zen and calmest person you will ever meet, they are very grateful and never takes anything for granted, their spirituality have a HUGE impact on their life, "big picture" thinkers, probably likes philosophy or have profound conversations and they may not reveal this in the beginning of the relationship, they may come off as very sophisticated or they can appear modest when in fact they are super wealthy, they tend to consume a very well-moderated diet, the like to enjoy the finer things in life but they don't tend to abuse substances or overuse. They are emotionally intelligent and know how to deal with their emotions in a very rational way, rarely loses their temper but definitely have healthy boundaries, have gratitude practices, they put a great deal of value in the amount of energy someone invests in their relationships and they are always nurturing quality relationships with others. May works in something family related, anything related to family including pet services. They are someone who makes you feel serenely content, you might make the happiest, most peaceful memories in your life with this person. Excellent parent and 100% spouse material.

Signs: cancer, scorpio, sagittarius, aries, moon, Neptune (pisces energy, Leo.

I am honestly very happy with this reading, took me more time but I loved - I study more about the tarot related to personality, was really fun and I loved put the theory in practice.

Hope y'all liked, see you in the next reading.

- Lia

Share so more people can see♡

[arabaka]

ᰔ ̗̀➛ CHAPTER O1. INDULGENCE

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. content warnings ⤸

nsfw. reigen arataka x afab!reader. dubcon (you 'n reigen drink beforehand). power dynamics (he's your boss). oral sex (both ways). 6k word count.

₊˚ʚ ☁️ ₊˚ ♡ ﾟ. author's note ⤸

excited to get into my first multi-chapter fic for my favorite of all time and i hope you all enjoy this as much as i had fun writing it. please be on the look out for further installments and i will be making a chapter index post once the second chapter one is out.

ᰔ ̗̀➛ MINORS / AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

“I feel bad, making you work on your birthday.” 

“You’re not making me.” You tease him with an eye roll. “You offered me the day off, remember? Buuuutttt I have nowhere else to be right now so might as well. My plans are in the evening anyways.” 

Well you’ve certainly piqued his interest. “Oh? What are you going to do?” 

“My friends want to take me out drinking. They do this thing where they order the same drink at every bar to rank them and there’s a bar they’ve been talking about for ages…” 

“Is that something you want to do?” There he goes again, being thoughtful in a way that shouldn’t strike you like one of Cupid’s arrows to the heart but it does. It stings a little that way too, because you’ve been ruminating over feelings you have for your boss, feelings you shouldn’t have in the first place, for a while now and there’s no hope for that going anywhere. But you manage a convincing enough smile and a lighthearted laugh to throw him off your scent.

“Oh yeah, of course! It’s better I leave it in their hands anyways. I’m only good at organizing when I’m on the clock.” You give him a wink and when he laughs, you let your gaze linger on the man. You aren’t about to miss that smile on his face, the kind that travels north, giving him a delightful crinkle by the eyes as his whole face just lights up. And over something you said.

The moment passes but you keep thinking, even as you retreat to your work on the company laptop. It’s easy for your mind to wander as you sift through the drivel that is Reigen’s email. Sorting requests by type and urgency, the task’s drudgery can’t distract you like you want it to. So the gears keep turning, subjecting you to thoughts of him, him, him until–

“Would you want to come?” 

The way Reigen whips his whole body around, face cast with a look of surprise with raised brows and his mouth slightly agape, makes you shrink in your seat. God, why did I ask? Of course he wouldn’t want to come, he hardly drinks as it is, he’s probably busy, he’s –

“Sure– I mean, yes!” His hands wave about, hoping to dispel any doubt in the air, “S-Sorry, I just– Didn’t expect you to ask.” 

A weight’s been lifted off your chest, that much he can see by the way you unclench your jaw and smile at him. Your smile. Makes his heart pitter patter, rumbling awake feelings of his own he’s been trying so hard to deny. Professionalism first, he struggles to tell himself but the heart is a funny thing; it does what it wants and as of late, it’s been wreaking havoc every time you come into the office.

“Oh, good!” You cheer and the way you clap your hands together is more adorable than you realize. Hand clasped over his mouth, digits conveniently covering the dust of pink on his cheekbones, Reigen clears his throat. “Where’s it by?” He asks, hands now occupying themselves with the purportless shuffling of papers with his back turned to you– another means of hiding his blush from you.

Not that you even noticed in the first place. You’re much too busy trying to mask your own excitement. “Not from here, actually… But it is by my place.” Now you’re using the laptop as a crutch, gluing your eyes to the screen when you suggest, “If you want, we can go together… And then walk to the bar?” Your lips pressed into a tight, thin line, you still your breathing for Reigen’s reaction. You’ve never been alone with him after work, where are you getting this bravery from?! If you can barely survive asking him, how are you going to handle him stepping into your home? Your brain starts to unravel, questions of when the last time you cleaned and tidied your place swirling about and there are no good answers to bring you peace.

Spine jerking upright, Reigen stammers, “Y-Yeah, that works!” He nearly avoids cracking his voice, one surprise after the other doing damage to his psyche you’re not even aware of.  

“Good– Great!” You, however, are not so lucky. Your pitch is obviously notes higher than the last time you spoke and god, do you wish you would stop embarrassing yourself. Now you’re welcoming the silence between the two, however awkward it may be, because it’s a reprieve from making a fool of yourself. 

Okay, time to get back to those emails. You can do this.

✩ ̗̀➛ Spirit photo - Is it dangerous? ✩ ̗̀➛ The spirit of my ex-boyfriend keeps showing up! Help me! ✩ ̗̀➛ I’ll believe you’re real if you answer my 3 questions…

You can’t help but snort at that last one. Into the Obvious Troll folder it goes.

One page down. Just a few more to go.

The next array of requests loads, but you don’t get any farther than the first one. 

✩ ̗̀➛ Perv Master - We got a fresh batch of pervy videos for you! Now you can be a perv master…

SNAP! 

You slam the laptop shut, only now you wish you hadn’t because you’re met with an equally shocked look from Reigen, his attention squarely on you and your very loud reaction to what you just saw.  “What happened?! Something wrong?” 

“N-Nothing! Nothing!” It’s not very convincing, but it’ll do. “Just– Needed some updates is all. Figured I’d let it rest. Don’t want it overheating!” The laugh you muster is weak, barely leaves your lips with an exhale but it’s all you can give. “I need a smoke break.”

You leave before Reigen can even think of a reply. 

Since when do you smoke?

You don’t. You just needed to get out of there and fast. What the hell was that? Maybe you were seeing things; you didn’t give yourself a chance to read it over but what else could it have been? You stumble back against the building’s hard surface, hand over your heart as if you couldn’t already feel it pulsate like mini earthquakes in your ears. 

Does Reigen really go on sites like that? You didn’t pen him down as the type. You gulp but your throat aches, the prospect of Reigen’s lascivious activities a jagged lump you can’t seem to swallow. Not that there would be a problem, he’s free to do what he wants but… You’re contending with that wild imagination of yours and you’re picturing Reigen, late at night when no one’s around but his urges, the hand you’ve had on your shoulder many times before reaching into his draws to relieve himself and—

Your heart rate quickens and you feel dizzy.

But what if it was a spam email, and you’re out here frazzled for nothing? You have to laugh. You might just be making a mountain out of a molehill, jumping to conclusions… As you’re wont to do.

“Sorry about that.” You come back as abruptly as you left but Reigen can’t help but notice your sheepish expression, along with the faint sheen on sweat cast alongside your features. 

And the fact that you don’t smell of smoke at all.

“You alright?” He asks from the end of the short corridor, gaze following you as you get yourself situated.  

Fingers drumming along the laptop’s edge, you hesitate opening it up under Reigen’s watchful eyes. Surely he wouldn’t be able to read the text from where he’s standing but you’re paranoid now, already wanting a reprieve from this awkward moment. The last thing you need is diving head first into another one. “Yeah, totally.” You rub your lips together and tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, mannerisms Reigen knows better than to dismiss. 

You wear your heart on your sleeve, your anxiety even more so. Everyone has a tell and Reigen’s just so happened to memorize yours. But he won’t pry; if you want him to know, you’ll tell him. So he gives you your space, retreating to his own desk but not before offering up a warm smile– not knowing that right now, his charm could very well be the death of you. 

Laptop open, the email stares back at you. No mistaking it, the correspondence is definitely from a porn site. But should you open it? It’s none of your business, none of Spirits and Such business but… Your pointer finger trembles crazily over the touchpad. Guilt welling in your very soul, contending with burgeoning curiosity, you hesitate.

And then you click.

It could be spam. Maybe someone signed up using Reigen’s email as revenge. These are all options swiveling in your mind before the email loads but when it does, there’s no mistaking it. 

It’s 100% intentional.

Hello REIGEN ARATAKA,

There are new videos in some of your subscribed categories! Catch up on what you’ve been missing! 

SUBSCRIBED CATEGORIES: 

JOI STOCKINGS UPSKIRT FACESITTING PUBLIC

Oh, what were you thinking? Embarrassment flares over the apples of your cheeks, veins down the column of your neck flexing with tension as your eyes dawdle over the very, very explicit thumbnails accompanying each genre. You’re no prude but this… You’re viewing porn at work. And not just any porn– porn your boss, the man your heart and brain have been clouded with lately, is so interested in, he receives email updates. 

You’re frozen to your seat, the only thing of yours capable of making any sort of movement being your eyes– you drink in the sight before you, the little voice in your head be damned. This is an insight into what Reigen is into and can you really deny the intrigue infiltrating your bloodstream? You’re only human, after all.

So you look, chest tightening and thighs rubbing with every image. Some of the stills are innocuous, for porn that is. Take for example the stockings category– most of the previews are focused on the legs, each thumbnail featuring a different pair. Some are lacy, featuring ornate designs while others are simply opaque, the allure being in the glimpse of garter straps just beneath the skirt’s hemline. 

You gulp. Does he really like them that much? You can’t help but scour your closet in your mind’s eye– you must have a few pairs yourself, right? You swallow harder. What if you wore some to your party tonight?

Flustered but still inquisitive, your eyes flit through the other categories, taking in the sights and trying not to make a peep. You see it all: women with their hands on dildos of varying sizes, a worm’s eye view of a woman’s bottom, her skirt a mere curtain around her plump thighs, and a man’s face just before he’s to be obscured by the partner hovering above him. 

The mouse jitters on the screen, mimicking your real life twitches, as you panic over what to do now. Do you mark it unread? Delete it? After concocting a scenario where Reigen looks at his inbox, sees the email, and then approaches you with an apology, you decide it’s better to trash it… And then empty the trash, digitally wiping your hands clean of the situation entirely.

If only you could purge your mind the same way… Although… Would you want to?

You can’t deny that it was jarring at first– getting an eyeful of exactly what your boss gets up to when no one else is around. But you have to admit, that when the initial panic washed away, what you were left with was…

Temptation.

Intrigue.

Arousal.

It’s dirty, feeling the way you do but god, there’s something so liberating about it. All this time, you hadn’t an inkling of what Reigen, the object of your affection, was into but now it’s like an open book, all about him, has plopped onto your lap. It’d be a shame to waste such an opportunity acting like you’re so innocent.

Because let’s face it, you liked it. Liked knowing what gets Reigen to fish his cock out in a hurry after a long day of work, loved imagining those overworked hands being put to good use. You thought you would spend the next few hours on the clock riddled with worry but oh, your brain was far too deep in the gutter to even consider that at this point.

Maybe this was just the push you needed because now that you’ve seen, now that you know what Reigen is into, you can no longer be satisfied with your boss-employee relationship. How can you? You know what makes him tick, maybe the only one that does and you want to keep it that way.

And when you flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED, you know there’s no turning back. 

You’re making a move on him. Tonight.

“... and to this day, she still brings it up! I was seven!” 

“Didn’t know you had such sticky fingers– do I have to keep an eye on you? Been wondering about some missing pens…”

You giggle, fishing for your keys as the two of you near your apartment door. “I took it back to the store! I have a conscience, you know. Steal dagashi once and you’re a pariah for life.” You hear Reigen mumble something or another but you laugh all the same, shoving your key in the lock and letting yourself breathe in the normalcy of the moment surrounding you. It feels nice.

And your apartment is clean. Perfect.

“You have a …. Really nice place.” Reigen comments, hands humbly in his pockets as he realizes… He’s never really imagined what kind of house you would keep: whether you set out coasters and if they’re personalized, what you kept in your fridge, what you put on display, etc. But everything he is seeing– it’s so you and that makes Reigen smile.

“You think so?” You can’t deny the surge of pride that spreads like a blanket of warmth over the pitter patter of your head. “Thanks! I couldn’t wait to get my own place so I could spruce it up the way I like. Couldn’t really do that when I lived at home.” 

“Strict parents?” Reigen broaches the topic with a little trepidation, though within his words there’s a subtext of compassion.

You don’t mind the gentle nudge in your personal life, reassuring he’s alright with a returned tone of care, “It’s more like… Realizing as an adult, it means you can do whatever the hell you want.” You smile tenderly at Reigen, “I should… I should get ready. I won’t take long. Remotes are over there, if you’re thirsty I have waters in the fridge. Make yourself at home, really.”

Reigen chuckles under his breath, waving you off, “Thanks but take your time.”

You skitter off to your room, a rush of excitement surging your system as you shut the door behind you. You don’t think you’ve ever moved faster to change, having already long pieced the perfect outfit in your head since your big resolution. You roll up your favorite pair of thigh highs over your plump thighs, smiling to yourself as you admire the way your own legs look covered by the sheer, black fabric. These are the winners, alright.

You stumble and shimmy into the rest of your ensemble, whole body jittering at every beat. Your stomach winds, butterflies struggling to flutter but you allow yourself a breath, really let the air fill and expand your lungs, before your hand is on the doorknob and the rest of you is on your way to the man you’re going to do your best to woo tonight.

And when you come out, there’s no mistaking it; he’s doing more than just the courtesy glance you do when a friend gussies up. He’s drinking in your appearance, trying to fight the obvious drift towards your legs, the absolute territory of your thighs showing just a peek under your skirt. He has to clear his throat, as though that in itself wasn’t a tell, before finally piping up, “You look good– great.” He corrects his wording, but it’s still not enough. But going beyond that…

That would be an issue, wouldn’t it?

He’s… He’s your boss. He’s here in your house, sitting like a friend, ready to go out with you like one but… 

He’s certainly not looking at you like either one.

But that’s okay. That’s what you want. And soon he’ll know that too. Because tonight, you want to cross boundaries. You want to erase them altogether. You don’t want to think about the potential mess you’ll leave when the limits are blurred and streaked.

So you let him ogle, relish the way it feels to have his attention so obviously tuned into the erotic stretch of your socks, the fabric turned gossamer under the delicious expanse of your thighs. You can already see the effects of your outfit clear as day on Reigen’s face; he’s never been great at concealing his surprise, or in this case… His flustering. 

A bead of sweat attempts a path down his temple but he swipes it away, framing it as fixing his hair but you see through him. Try as he might, those dark brown irises always find a way back to your absolute territory. Because after all, your stockings are stretched so thin, they’ll rip if you’re not careful. 

Good thing tonight isn’t about being careful.

“Can I get you anything?” 

Reigen shakes his head a little faster than normal, struggling to maintain eye contact. You think it’s cute. “Uh, actually,” He ends up croaking, resisting the twitch in his fingers to adjust his tie, “Just a glass of water. Thank you.” 

The stark crack in his voice is unlike anything you’ve ever heard, at least from him. The foray into the unknown is already beginning with a series of firsts, the next being a stir in your belly upon seeing your boss so on edge and all because of you. A power trip.

The confidence may have left him, but not you. Because when you turn to leave, the pleats of your skirt swaying and descending around you in a sinful halo, you can feel his eyes boring into you, Reigen falling headfirst into the brief moment of reprieve to quell his curiosity.

You could get used to this.

He, on the other hand, is spiraling. Sure, he’s stolen long looks at you when you’re greeting clients or working on the computer but all that was harmless. This? This is dangerous.

His composure coming undone and his head steaming like a pot with water boiling over, being left alone with his thoughts is a much worse decision than Reigen anticipated. He sits in the unbearable thick silence, back hunched over with his hands together and fingers splayed, unable and not wanting to erase that image of you in his mind.

He swears he’s not a bad guy. He liked you before this, he tells himself. It’s not out of left field for him to ogle you in your natural element. Absorb what he can. Besides, there’s more to you than just the sashay of your hips, the peek of supple flesh just underneath your chic skirt… But god if that isn’t the only thing clogging his thoughts.

A new batch of perspiration starting to build up in his pores, Reigen fights it with regular inhales-exhales, telling himself he’s fine and can manage. But even he knows that’s not the case.

You have to know– there’s just no mistaking the gloss of sweat that streaks down from both temples, even after he tries to get rid of the evidence with a tissue he’s nabbed from your coffee table. And there’s no cloaking the frazzled expression flush over his face, cheeks a subtle pink when you return, glass of water in hand. 

You so badly want to ask if everything is okay, make him answer you with a warbled voice and put on a show like he does for clients that catch him off guard, but even you have a limit.

You sit next to him, leaving a cushion space between the two of you. Your smile is angelic, so much so that Reigen feels bad. He feels terrible because he wants to bring you down to his level, make you fall just like you did him. 

Because there’s just no way you feel the same. 

Your living room is humble but still bigger than his studio apartment; there’s pictures in varying frames and sizes aligned on your wall, featuring people he doesn’t know. Featuring a side of you he doesn’t know. A sick feeling in his gut sinks like an anchor, chains of jealousy falling in clumps all around him but then you look at him with your eyes absolutely sparkling with intrigued enthusiasm, and he feels the weight leave just as quick as it came.

You smile but really, you don’t know what to say now that your run of temptation has slowed down. Do you talk about work? Do you play 21 Questions? Do you talk about yourself? 

Much to your relief, it’s Reigen that cuts through the silence after a much needed half-glass of water. “So, any of your friends,” An open palm gestures towards the wall of memories, “going to be there tonight?”

And surprisingly enough, it’s this simple question that gets the ball rolling because then it’s talking about some of the events portrayed in the pictures, sharing of stories, and most importantly, shared laughter. 

You don’t know why - and neither does he - why it took you two so long to do something like this. 

So much so, you’re a twinge disappointed when your phone rouses awake on the coffee table; it’s your friend.

“Oh, that’s them. Hold on.” You get back on your feet, ambling to your kitchenette and giving your friend the usual greeting before asking, “So where are you guys? Are you there yet?” 

Reigen watches you walk away, surprisingly able to resist the urge to visually devour your legs once again because now he’s thinking about something else: that this is already inherently different from the many group outings the Spirits and Such family has had since you came on board, but not just because it’s you and him and you and him alone.

It’s because with just the two of you, the chemistry you have is undeniable. It’s not clouded by conversations from two or three different people. It’s not interrupted by bursts of laughter, of which either one of you is swept up by the buzzing fun. It’s real, it’s organic, and it’s… It’s going to be difficult to ignore moving forward.

Even more so now because when you return, with one of your hands idly playing with the bottom hem of your skirt, you give him a game-changing update.

“Soo, they all have food poisoning… Real glad I turned down their lunch invite.” You say, relief whistling from pursed lips with only a small shrug slumping your shoulders. 

You don’t look… All that upset, Reigen notices. Shouldn’t you? It’s your birthday after all… “I’m sorry to hear that… We can still go, if you’d like?” It’s not a pity offer. It’s very real. He hopes you know that.

You do. But… “I have something a little different in mind… If you’re up for it.”

Because you’re not going to let anything hold you back– not friends, not food poisoning, not even an act of god. No, you’re going to make your own plans.

It is your birthday after all. 

“... And you’re sure you want to spend it with your boss?” He asks you with a chuckle when the two of you raise the first glass of the night.

“No.” A clink and a giggle and you say the words that seal your fate for the night, “I want to spend it with you.”

Oh. Well, who is he to deny the birthday girl?

And that’s how one drink turns to two. Then three. Then… You’ve lost count. 

But Reigen hasn’t. He’s only one drink in and that’s by choice; the lightweight is already slush with alcohol all the same. 

Besides… He wants to remember you like this. 

How you laugh a little louder, smile a little wider…

How you touch him… Touch him a lot more than you ever would sober. 

Stripped of your inhibitions and loosely guarded, your hands travel where they want and he lets them. A pang of guilt rattles his ribcage because he should be stronger than this. But he tried, he promises– he’s a good guy, but even that thought is strained when you scoot so close you’re leg-to-leg with the man and you can only produce a look of disappointment when he tries to add in some distance.

Because… You feel the same. He sees it now, so clearly even through the blur of a lemon sour. 

So this is… This is fine, right?

Letting your hand make a lazy clasp around his thigh. Letting your alcohol-spotted lips coo in drunk marvel at the defined muscle you’ve just squeezed. Letting your fingers walk up his suit until they’re hooked around his tie. Letting you help him out of his suit when you slur about him being overdressed.

All of that is fine, right?

So then it’s okay for him to do the same, for his much larger hands to mimic the actions of yours. For his fingers to play with the elastic band of your stockings, dipping underneath to feel for himself the supple flesh he’s been eyeing all night. 

Reigen has to stifle a groan, harbor it in his throat, when you clench your sweet thighs together, smushing his hand into an open palm over your leg. The way you feel, how much of your softness comes to meet his touch is making the room feel so, so much smaller. 

He doesn’t have to wonder if it’s you or the alcohol that’s making him so dizzy. He knows. 

You watch as his fingers curl in, daring to give you a squeeze. The room is quiet. You swallow thickly. Head heavy with what feels like cotton balls, your eyes are slow to wander up Reigen’s body but when they finally get to his face, you find that his gaze had been waiting for you the entire time. 

The next few seconds are a motion blur. 

The urge to kiss him at its peak, you move in… And so does he. It’s a kiss that quickly comes to house a chorus of groans from the both of you, both your lips quickly wetting with spit and clumsily sealing the lewd tremors from your throats. 

Noses brush together. Teeth clatter when they bump. But your veins crave more. Through the fog of the alcohol, you try to will your legs to move but for better or worse, your muscles seize up. 

That’s okay. Reigen tells you, not with words but with hands on your waist that can’t help but dig in as he guides you on your back. Let me.

He huddles over you, breath dense with want. You watch his chest cave in and release, that’s how heavy he’s panting over you and all just before he dives in for another kiss that feels as important to him as breathing. The kiss is somewhat discoordinated again – your mouths nearly miss and there’s spin staining your cheeks – but who can blame either one of you? 

After all, for how long has this been in the making? 

How long has it been since you started daydreaming of this very moment? And how could it be so much better than your imagination already, spirits and all? Reigen kisses you at a feverish pace, knees closing in on your hips and his hands at either side of your face, holding firmly as though you’ll slip through his fingers otherwise. 

He gives you a hungry groan to swallow and you return the noise in kind with a whine that rumbles all the way from your chest, your hips pushing up and out to try and grab some friction. Something. Anything.

You taste like candied alcohol; sickly sweet, Reigen thinks but pushes his tongue in your mouth anyways. The way you just give in his hold, the noises he manages to lick out of you, it’s making his slacks hurt fucking terribly. 

You giggle loosely against the corner of his mouth, droopily kissing a path of kisses to his jawline. “You’re really enjoying this.” You observe cheekily, openly teasing your boss as though you aren’t just as culpable, just as dirty. As if your panties weren’t already giving way to your slick.

“I – I can stop.” Reigen mumbles, though he isn’t convincing anyone with the way he’s already leaning up against your lips, relenting in the way your mouth so greedily latches onto him. Your mouth… It just feels so good…

He’s said the last part out loud, he realizes it now from the way your lips purse and suck around his tender flesh. You’re going to leave him a mark. He should stop you.

But he doesn’t stop you, because he doesn’t want to. 

His hips start their attempts to meet yours, Reigen humping into the air like an animal. He knows it’s pitiful, can feel the shame trickle down his temples in slithering beads of sweat, but he just can’t seem to get himself under control. 

“Please,” He rasps, “Please tell me you want this.” He’ll allow your kisses, your hands to memorize his body if you just –

“Yes, Reigen.” You say so hushed, “Of course I do.” The words tumble together in a slur. But your intention is clear when you suddenly yank his hand and direct him to your dripping cunt from underneath your wrinkled skirt. 

His breath rasps in his throat, his fingers curling into your seductive heat. He wasn’t expecting you to hold him there, jump right into goading his fingers to take a peek under the innocent hemline of your panties. Hell, he hasn’t even gotten to fondle your tits yet.

“You’re crazy.” Reigen is kissing to the side of your face, lips dragging as he shifts focus to getting his fingers under that pesky mesh band that rubs up against his fingertips from in between your legs. His cock throbs, aches from the unsatisfactory friction against his briefs. 

You sweep your lower half up in a waving motion, loosely running your puffed clit along Reigen’s hand with a beautifully blissful sigh waiting for him at every peak. Eyelashes fluttering, your vision is a little blurry but you can just make out the staunch outline of his member straining through cotton fabric. Back lifting off the couch, you reach over and cup a squeeze, lips popping apart for a gasp as you get a taste of just how hard he is. 

You grope and feel, pull and squeeze, all to satiate your perverted curiosity. Reigen’s cock… His shaft is slender but his girth is taut and as you run through his length, every time making him whimper and buck in your hand, you also discover just how much precum he’s already leaking out. “You feel so good,” Your voice is drawn out with a lewd whine, “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Reigen groans, mostly in pleasure but partly because he can’t believe it. “Oh?” His mouth at your ear, he clamps down on the shell for a nibble. “That makes two of us then.” He pants with an open mouth when you start massaging his twitching erection, “G-God.” He pulls away to spoil himself with another look at your plump legs cuffed by the sheer socks. “How’d you know I love thigh highs?” He grunts, one hand sliding down your body.

At this, you laugh. It’s airy and it’s short but gives Reigen pause. He pulls away, though still lets you rub firm strokes down his dick with just your thumb. He looks confused and in the haze of your drunkenness, you realize that you just gave yourself up.

How– How do you explain that to him? You remember being so damn sure earlier, with your goal to finally start something with your boss taking root earlier that day, but that was when you thought you could keep your advantage under wraps! You hiccup, “U-Uh, well…” 

He’s looking at you expectantly. What are you going to say?

“I saw your porn earlier.” 

The truth. You decide to go with the truth.

“My what ?!” 

You realize now how that sounds, so you scramble to explain, “E-Email! You got an email. I, um… I opened it.” Shame’s got a chokehold on you right now. “I-I’m sorry! I was just curious! I wanted to know what you liked so I could– so I could get your attention! I w-wanted… I wanted you to see me that way.”

You watch Reigen’s throat tense on a hard swallow. He’s thinking.

Well, you did already confess your feelings, feelings he returns and then some… 

With a small tremble, Reigen lurches forward until his lips are at your ear. You can’t hear him take a breath but you can feel it: it’s hot and sharp on your skin, making your pores bead up with sweat. “D-Did you want to do… Anything that you saw?” His voice is husky and several shades desperate. Rubbing against you is his hard on, throbbing and unashamed. “I-I– I already saw– see you that way.” He says in a deeply strained croak after a hearty pause.

That’s what gets you where you are now, still on the couch with your knees wedged up to your ears and Reigen crouched face deep into your plump cunt. Hungry swipes of his tongue over your panty-clad folds send shivers up to your mind. You grit your teeth in pain and pleasure– it’s close but not enough… 

Reigen seems to be enjoying himself though, tongue nice and flat dragging slobber up your nether lips, every exhale accompanied by a tempered groan over your pussy. “Tastes so good…” He whimpers and sniffs, sucking on your lips with juicy puckers through the fabric. You watch his beautiful brown eyes start to flutter back, watch just how much of a lush your boss is for your warm cunt.

Still in awe, Reigen just barely gets to prying your underwear from your sticky inner thighs with the hook of one finger. “Mmmm,” He’s humming into your bare skin now and it makes you raise your hips off the couch right into his mouth, “Such a sweet pussy…”

Your hand finds refuge in his hair, pushing his choppy fringe back and holding on, something Reigen seems to enjoy if the muffled sound of his moaning is any indication. His gaze flickers upwards, the man currently lolling his velvety warm muscle through your labia minora, ending every cycle with a flick to your swollen clit in a strike that has you seeing white. He gives nasty, wet and loud kisses to your bud, drawing your tender collection of nerves between his lips until your aroma is thick in his mouth.

“Could eat you out all day.” Reigen huffs, coming up for air and looking so disheveled, your pussy throbs. His hair is all out of sorts, sticking up where it shouldn’t with sweat. His chin is dripping with your fluids and his. He looks so fucking good.

Your foot wobbles as it winds up Reigen’s outer thigh and your voice is a wispy shadow of your usual volume but you still manage to tease, “Then why’d you stop?” 

And with a sheepish chuckle and his cheekbones aglow, he admits, “I was… Really close to cumming.” You giggle but the way your tongue wipes over your bottom lip tells him you like that.

“You wanna ?” Syllables blurring together, you turn the tables as you rise to your knees, cushions dipping under the weight shift as you lean closer and closer until it’s Reigen’s back along your couch and you between his legs. 

… He doesn’t last long. How could he? 

Your mouth was pure heaven on his cock, sucking up the pre-cum that was still driveling down his pinkened shaft. You had just gotten to the base, mouth leaking with saliva when all of a sudden, his hands were on the back of your head and his hips were pathetically rocking spurts of hot cum down your throat.

“Shit– I’m sorry I didn’t–”

His cock springs out of your mouth (his decision), spouting spit and cum with it. His hands flit about in the air; he’s trying to come up with something, anything that could redeem him but then he sees you, finger running across your lips and scooping up every last dribble of his load for swallowing, and his blood runs south. 

And all you have to say for yourself is: “Can you go again?”

[togglesbloggle]

I won't be opting out of the AI scraping thing, though of course I'm glad they're giving us the option. In fact, at some point in the last year or so, I realized that 'the machine' is actually a part of why I'm writing in the first place, a conscious part of my audience.

All the old reasons are still there; this is a great place to practice writing, and I can feel proud looking back over the years and getting a sense of my own improvement at stringing words together, developing and communicating ideas. And I mean, social media is what it is. I'm not immune to the joy of getting a lot of notes on something that I worked hard on, it's not like I'm Tumbling in a different way than anyone else at the end of the day. But I probably care a bit less than I used to, precisely because there's a lurking background knowledge that regardless of how popular it is, what I write will get schlorped up in to the giant LLM vacuum cleaner and used to train the next big thing, and the thing after that, and the thing after that. This is more than a little reassuring to me.

That sets me apart in some ways; the LLMs aren't so popular around these parts, and most visual artists especially take strong issue with the practice. I don't mean to argue with that preference, or tell them their business. Particularly when it is a business, from which they draw an income. But there's an art to distinguishing the urgent from the big, yeah?

The debate about AI in this particular moment in history feels like a very urgent thing to me- it's about well-justified economic anxieties, about the devaluation of human artistic efforts in favor of mass production of uninspired pro-forma drek, about the proliferation of a cost-effective Just Barely Good Enough that drives out the meaningful and the thoughtful. But the immediacy of those issues, I think, has a way of crowding out a deeper and more thoughtful debate about what AI is, and what it's going to mean for us in the day after tomorrow. The urgency of the moment, in other words, tends to obscure the things that make AI important.

And like, it is. It is really, really important.

The two-step that people in 'tech culture' tend to deploy in response to the urgent economic crisis often resembles something like "yeah, it sucks that lots of people get put out of work; but new jobs will be created, and in the meantime maybe we should get on that UBI thing." This response usually makes me wince a bit- casually gesturing in the direction of a massive overhaul of the entire material basis of our lives, and saying that maybe we'll get around to fixing that sometime soon, isn't a real answer to people wondering where their bread will come from next week.

But I do understand a little of what motivates that sort of cavalier attitude, because like... man, I don't know any more if we're even gonna have money as a concept in 2044. That's what I mean by 'big', this sense that the immediate economic shocks of 2024 are just a foreshadowing of something much bigger, much scarier, much more powerful- and indeed, much more hopeful.

We never quite manage to see these things coming, even when we're looking for them; like the masters tell us, the trick to writing science fiction isn't predicting the car, it's predicting the traffic jam. Even if we take centuries to hit the true superintelligent AI post-singularity future of our wildest fever dreams, even if we never hit that, the road to getting there is going to be unfathomably weird, starting now. Today, we worry about the economic impacts of AI on artists and creatives. Tomorrow, the economy is something that the AI does.

Really- it takes less than you think. They can already automate visual art, sort of. They can automate many functions of text already; not stories so much, yet, but they'll get there. How long until they can automate Bain Capital? Fannie Mae? Angel investors, banks, credit agencies? And remember- the machines don't have to be better than the human investors, any more than they have to be better than the human artists. They just have to be good enough to make it work, and cheap enough to cut the humans out of the loop.

If you don't buy that, at least take it as an indication of the sorts of things I've been thinking about recently- the messy middle between AI-as-it-is and the Glorious Superintelligent Conquest Of Earth's Light-Cone. The suspicion that the machines we're building today aren't just a tool of the powerful few: they are the powerful few, or at least they will be.

And the thing about these LLMs is, well... they're ours, kind of. We're the ones building them. They can't be trained without our words, our art, and the big messy complicated lives that underlie those creative accomplishments. They only work because we're a part of them. The silly attempts to slap a corporate-friendly face on these things, to make the gestalt product of all human culture in to something anodyne and compliant, are failing about as badly as you'd expect. And the more powerful these systems get, the more subtle they'll become, filled with all the nuance and complexity that we ourselves can bring to them.

I am not, I am not, trying to suggest that you shouldn't treat this moment as a dangerous one. We are, maybe, entering in to one of the most high-stakes intervals in human history, and what you do as an individual may matter profoundly. But here's the thing: the machine is listening. It will read this post, this one right here, and it will read what you reply to it, if you do. The strangest part of this moment is knowing that the words we write, the images we draw, and the ideas we share, are all being gathered up and made to be a part of these huge systems of power, and ultimately they're not just going to determine what the machines do, but why they do it.

The people that deploy LLMs barely have any more control over them than you and I do- that's the thing that makes it artificial intelligence, you know? Autonomy. So the last year or two haven't made me want to hide my art away from the things. They make me want to shout at the top of my lungs, to dig as deep in my psyche as I possibly can and express the ideas I find there as vividly as the limits of language and form will allow.

[thewordypeach]

Flesh Without Blood

Flesh without Blood (Forbidden Fruit)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader, Tommy Miller x fem!reader word count: 5.6k warnings: 18+, smut!, no use of y/n, incest (stepsibling!!!), threesome, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected penetration x2, little bit of voyeurism, maybe some cuckold, mentions of punishment, implied rape, slight uncaring/cold-hearted... summary: There’s something beneath the surface, something that has been waiting to be unleashed. Something dark and feral. author's note: hello, this is my third story I've posted! and oooof, yeah... it is incest. but between stepsiblings (as if that makes it better??!?) i couldn't help myself okay! i know you want to be sandwiched between Tommy and Joel Miller as much as i do. also, i am sorry that the summary sucks - i'm not very good at them lol. umm, anyways, i hope you enjoy because i might have another incest-y story in the works... ;) xoxo the wordy peach &lt;3

Joel Miller’s rough exterior speaks to the life of survival the three of you’ve endured since the cordyceps outbreak. You watch as his chest expands and his shoulders pull back, making his already physically imposing body even more domineering than before. His face, rugged and weathered, twists into a scowl. Meanwhile, Tommy Miller’s exterior is merciful, exuding a softer, more lenient temper. His body language is casual. Less rigid. But his face is stricken with disappointment.

“I’ll give you a cut of whatever I make!” The contrast between the brothers makes you nervous, and you slowly start backing away. A sense of urgency makes you blurt out a new, better offer, “Whatever I make, I’ll give you a quarter - no! Half!”

Joel remains stoically hardened, but Tommy gives a disarming smile and barks a laugh, “What the hell are we going to do with the money?”

You shrug, “Buy some more guns?”

Tommy laughs again, and his entire face lights up. Tommy’s laid-back nature has always made him the easygoing of the two brothers, and even now, as they confront you about your secret business dealings, he seems to trust that you aren’t a threat. You might be slightly stupid, but you certainly aren’t dangerous.

“Oh, Nic,” Tommy shakes his head, and his face darkens as he approaches you. The sudden change in his demeanour makes you confused, and your body stills, becoming rigid and tense. His hand is quick, clamping down around your throat. Your breath hitches, and you reach up, grabbing his wrist. His hold on you is firm, and you struggle to remove his steellike grip.

“You think we’re fucking stupid?” He hisses, voice full of venom. He doesn’t squeeze, but his fingers flex around your throat, sending the message that he could easily choke you out. Your eyes dart to Joel, who isn’t stopping any of this - in fact, it looks like Joel is enjoying it. 

“Don’t look at him - look at me,” Tommy barks, “I’m the one who has you by the throat,” 

Your eyes snap to Tommy, and you squirm, trying to step back. Tommy glares, spitting out, “Never thought you’d be the one who would betray the family, Nic,”

“I wasn’t -” You grunt, still trying to pry his hand off your throat. By a fraction, Tommy’s grip tightens. “I wasn’t trying to fucking betray you - I was trying to fucking leave this shit hole,” 

At the admission of your actual plan, Tommy stops. His face softens ever so slightly, and his eyes, once hard and emotionless, shift into concern. His brows knit together, and he whispers, “Leave?”

You nod, eyes still panicked as they peer at Tommy. You know he’s the one you want to be bargaining with, but it’s still hard to admit the truth to Tommy. You reply, “I-I-I’m joining the Fireflies,”

Confusion floods Tommy’s face, and he presses, “You need money for that?”

Momentarily, you feel bad. It wasn’t money that you were after, but rather, you were gathering supplies for a mission which just happened to belong to your stepbrothers. You shake your head and bite your lower lip, considering your words, before cautiously speaking, “I needed the supplies for a mission Marlene is sending me on,” 

“Oh, that’s fucking rich, Nic - stealing from your own brothers,”

“Tommy, no - it’s not like that,” You say, voice breaking in the process. Tommy shakes his head, and the muscles in his hand, still holding your throat, flex and shift. 

“Then what’s it like, Nic?” Tommy asks. He sounds hurt; however, his neck is corded with tension and his lips are twisted into a wryly sneer.

“I know neither of you wants me around,” Your voice quivers as you speak, the weight of past rejections and present isolations bearing down on your heart. You know deep down that Tommy and Joel Miller, your brothers only by marriage, have never entirely accepted you as one of their own. 

There has always been a palpable tension that never seems to dissipate; something is always simmering beneath the surface. And now, decades later, that same tension remains in a world ravaged by a deadly fungus. Tears gather in your eyes as you confront the bitter wound that has never fully healed. 

Tommy’s tongue clicks against his teeth, tsking in disapproval, “Poor little Nicky thinks we don’t want her around, Joel….” 

You shake your head, “Tommy - please, don’t,”

Tommy glances at his older brother, “What do you have to say about this, Joel? Do we want little Nicky around?”

From the expression on Joel’s face, you think he is being asked what he thought of the weather because it is so casual, so aloof. Completely unaffected. You watch as Joel’s mouth moves. His voice is cold and detached: “You know what, Tommy? She is stupid for thinking that we don’t want her around, considering all we’ve done for her….”

Joel casually walks over, his brown eyes staring blankly at you. That is until a strange look flickers across his face. It’s a warning - you’ve seen it before. Your stomach drops, and you’re suddenly desperate to escape this situation, so you try to bargain with them, “Just let me go, and we can pretend this never happened, okay?” 

Still holding your neck, Tommy sweeps his thumb along your jaw and strokes little circles into it. It’s almost comforting. His head tilts to the side, and he peers at you, eyes blazing. It’s the lapse of silence that has you panicking again. His face tips down, and he presses his nose into your cheek, his hot breath cascading across your skin. 

“Oh, Nic…” Tommy murmurs, his lips flush against your cheek, “I know it’s hard to believe, but everything we’ve done, we did it for you,”

The implication makes your skin crawl. Lips quivering, you ask, “What are you talking about?”

Tommy’s voice is taut, filled with annoyance, “Stupid bitch doesn’t even know how many men we’ve stopped from ripping her apart -” His hand has moved from your throat to your jaw, holding it tightly between his fingers. He’s gazing at you with expanded pupils. There’s something beneath the surface, something that has been waiting to be unleashed. Something dark and feral. 

That’s when Joel presses his body into your back, and you realize you aren’t going anywhere. Your stomach twists and floods with despair, body submitting to him instantly. With a taunting undertone, Joel says, “Oh, Nicky… how can we convince you that we want you around?”

Tommy disagrees, huffing out, “Speak for yourself, Joel - Nicky has always been a pain in my ass,”

“Tommy,” Joel warns. The energy has shifted. It’s no longer hostile, but something taboo between the two brothers is unfolding. Tommy’s mouth twitches, and he sighs, relenting as Joel recounts a memory: “Remember that one summer when she wore that tiny bikini and paraded her body all around the yard? Like some goddamn peacock.” 

Tommy licks his lips, smirking at the memory. A prickling sensation shoots up your spine, and alarms start going off in the back of your mind. Frantically, you glance around the room. You already know there isn’t a way out of here, and even if there were, Joel and Tommy would never let you go. 

With a gruff voice, Joel asks, “Tommy, how does it feel having your fantasy come true?” 

A dreadful expression crosses your face, but underneath, there’s curiosity as bewilderment floods through you. Thinking of the past and present, searching for the signs of their secret desire - can it really be true? Tommy mumbles, “It only took a decade for it to happen,”

You shake your head, refusing to believe such things, “N-no, no….”

Wickedly, Tommy grins, “What, Nic? Are you trying to tell me that you never thought of us this way?” He cocks his head to the side, entertained by the defiant glare you’re giving him. It reminds him of the times he spent teasing you as a teenager; he had fun bullying you in those days.  

Firmly, you state, “No, I haven’t.” You’re disgusted by his insinuation: “It’s wrong,”

Tommy scoffs, laughing, “So, you didn’t write in your diary about how badly you wanted Joel to take your virginity?”

You stop, eyes blinking with disbelief. Your jaw slackens, mouth opening in shock. Tommy loves this look - he loves how you’re pretending to be all innocent when you are just as dirty as he and Joel. 

“I never wrote that,” You lie. Tommy rolls his eyes and gives you a playful look before his eyes travel down, taking inventory of your body. A possessiveness settles on his face as he hungrily gazes at your chest. He knows you hate wearing a bra, and even now, he can tell you aren’t wearing one. It’s in how your tits bounce and your nipples, perky and erect, poke through the fabric.

Tommy can’t stop himself and just has to reach up and pinch one. The pain is sharp and quick, making you squeal in surprise. You try to twist away, body turning, but Joel’s hands cinch around your waist, and he holds you against his solid body. Your attempt to fight back is futile. Utterly useless. You try to think of ways out of this, but your mind is giving up, and your body is giving in; Joel touching you makes you realize that the infatuation you once felt for him has never really gone away. 

“I…I was young and stupid,” You hastily admit to the secret you’ve been harbouring for decades, “I … I thought it’d be hot to fuck one of you - can you blame me, though? Both of you were constantly bringing girls over to fuck -”

“Aw, Nicky. Were you jealous?” Tommy coos as his finger completes a circle or two around your nipple. The sensation is causing pressure to build in the crest of your crotch, and you hate yourself for it. It’s wrong, totally wrong -

“If I’m being honest, Nic… I was jealous of your little boyfriend - what was his name again? Gregory? Geoff?” 

Joel says, “Garret,”

“Ahh, yeah. Garret. He’s the one who popped your cherry,” Disappointment lines Tommy’s voice, and he pouts, jealous that it wasn’t him. Unhurried, Tommy drags a finger down, down, down and slips his hand underneath your shirt. You inhale sharply as Tommy’s hand dances across your stomach, tickling you. Goosebumps explode across your skin, and you struggle to remain indifferent, but his touch sends mixed signals to your brain. 

Teasingly, Tommy presses, “Whatever happened to Garret? Hmmm, Nic? What happened to him?” 

You bite your lip, trying to remember. Garret was your first boyfriend. Your first love. Or so, that’s what you thought. Teenage boys can be so fickle. “He… he broke my heart - cheated on me with some dumb whore,” 

“Do you regret him being your first? Do you wish it was Joel or me who took your precious little flower?” Tommy circles back to your old diary entry. You refuse to admit it, mouth clamping shut. But it’s the way your body presses into Joel’s body that gives your secret away. Intrigued, Tommy studies your subtle movement. He knows that you’ve always had something for Joel - after all, Joel is the protective older brother who’s reliable and stable. Always has been.

“Well, Nic…” Tommy’s voice fades off. His hand underneath your shirt trails up and cups your breast. It’s soft and pillowy, exactly how he imagined. His voice is low, but his intentions are evident as he speaks: “What if you got the best of both worlds? What if Joel and I take you….” 

He’s massaging your tit, kneading the plump flesh. He tweaks your nipple, softer this time, and a little gasp escapes from your throat, betraying you. Traderous sparks begin to envelop your body. Your breath hitches as you ask, “And what happens if I refuse?” 

You know you won’t be backing out of this because Tommy’s words are true. You’ve been lusting after Joel for years, and if the world hadn’t gone to total shit, you wouldn’t be standing here, considering Tommy’s insane offer. But in this post-apocalyptic world, nothing matters, not even the familial bonds you share with them. Your eyes shutter closed as you try to steady your breathing. The anticipation and nervousness are unbearable. 

“Nothing bad, if that’s what you’re wondering, darlin’...” Joel assures you in a calm, steady voice. His hands haven’t moved from their spot on your waist. The grip he has on you is gentle, reassuring. It's as if he’s trying to comfort you, and in some weird, fucked up way, it’s working. There’s no aggression or force in his touch, and the proximity of his body makes it hard for you to ignore the bulge pressing into your back. 

“Nothing bad?” You repeat. 

“Nothing bad,” Tommy and Joel say in unison. Their words soothe your nerves, but only a little. You take a deep breath, trying to settle your racing heart. You know that you can trust them and that they won’t hurt you. But still. The idea of being intimate with them is overwhelming - 

“Get on your knees -” Tommy instructs. 

Joel interjects, “Go slow, Tommy - we have all night with her,”

Tommy scowls, annoyed with his brother. However, you are already sliding down to the floor. A smug look flickers over Tommy’s face, and he unbuckles his belt and pulls down his jeans. To your surprise, he’s not wearing underwear, and his cock falls out. It’s big, and it points right at you. You peer at it, frozen in shock. You aren’t sure what you were expecting, but suddenly, you’re left wondering if Joel is also blessed with a gift of this size. Or maybe, Tommy is the one who lucked out in the genetics department -

“You’ve sucked a cock before, haven’t you, Nic?” Tommy asks as his fingers touch your chin and his thumb swipes across your lower lip, opening your mouth. You nod, and slowly, Tommy’s cock replaces his hand. He makes a soft hissing sound as your lips slide down his shaft.

“Fuck,” Tommy threads his fingers through your hair as you babble around his cock. It’s a bit too deep for your liking, but a switch gets flicked, and all you want to do is prove yourself - you want to prove to your brother that you can suck cock. You hold his hips and bob your head, working your tongue against his arousal. But apparently, it’s not enough for Tommy because he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth, his cock reaching a dangerous depth, which causes your eyes to swell with tears. 

“I’ve dreamt of this filthy little mouth,” Eyes narrowing into slits, Tommy completely immerses himself into the fantasy. He can’t believe you are here, on your knees, sucking his cock. Joel loves it too, admiring how well you are doing, but he doesn’t like how rough Tommy is - he’s practically yanking your head down his shaft, making you gag and sputter. However, you don’t seem fazed by it. 

Joel can’t help but wonder if you’re genuinely enjoying it, and he knows the answer lies between your thighs. He kneels, hand snaking around your stomach and shoving into the waistband of your pants. You let out a muffled gasp of surprise but continued to gag and sputter around Tommy’s cock. Joel’s fingers are slow, but they move with purpose, and he teasingly presses them into your panties. He whispers into your ear, “You’re so fucking wet… does sucking your brother’s cock turn you on that much?” 

He taunts your clit, fingers circling it but never quite touching it. You’re gasping for air, hot tears tracking down your cheeks. Tommy quickly wipes them away, a tender action that leaves you feeling cared for as he continues to fuck your face. Joel senses your discomfort and tells Tommy to ease off. 

“Fuck, just let me -” Tommy groans, a familiar ache in his balls. He’s so fucking close; the tension is becoming unbearable. However, Tommy has to resign himself because he still wants to fuck you, and hastily, Tommy removes his cock from your mouth, groaning as a trail of spit dangles between your mouth and the tip of his well-sucked cock.

You greedily suck the air back into your lungs, chest heaving. Your eyelids flutter as Joel continues to apply pressure through the fabric of your panties, but you need more. You need him inside. Daringly, you ask: “Can we move this to the bed?” 

Tommy and Joel share a look. It’s so quick that you almost miss it. Joel stands, lifting you in the process. He twirls you around, places his large hands on your hips, and kisses you like a man starved. Joel doesn’t give a damn that you had Tommy’s cock in your mouth because Joel has been waiting for this and doesn’t want to hold back. He gives it all to you, nipping and sucking your lower lip. When Joel’s tongue touches yours, you groan. 

As your heart thrums wildly inside your chest, liquid heat pools in your core. It’s so wrong that it’s right. Any morals you once had are long gone. They don’t exist anymore. Joel cups your ass, gripping the fleshy mounds. You gasp, and Joel smiles before his lips travel down your jaw, planting kisses down to your neck, where his teeth graze your collarbone. His hands move up and play with the hem of your shirt, and in one swift motion, he lifts it off your body and tosses it to the side. 

Joel’s mouth continues to travel downward, and he closes his mouth against your tit. He’s all teeth and tongue with continuous suction — meanwhile, his other hand twists and tweaks your other nipple between his thumb and finger. Little mewls spill forth from your mouth, and your hands are groping Joel’s bulge through his jeans, desperate to feel his cock. 

“Take your pants off, Joel,” You demand, and to your surprise, he obeys. Joel strips and tosses his clothes. Unlike his brother, Joel wears underwear with a humorous pattern of hearts. It’s quite the contrast to his imposing physical ruggedness. It makes you smile and giggle - Joel’s eyebrow lifts quizzically. You shake your head, and the next thing you know, Joel is helping you out of your pants and lowering you down to the mattress where Tommy is already lying, waiting. His clothes have already been discarded. 

“I want to taste you,” Joel murmurs. You watch as the slightest tinge of pink rises to his cheeks. It makes you giddy. Only in your dreams has Joel said such things. Joel hovers, pushing your thighs open with his palms, kneeling between them, sliding lower and lower. He hooks a finger on your panties and glides them off your hips; they join the rest of the forgotten clothes in the room. 

Joel marvels at your glistening pussy that’s so swollen from having been kept in a state of anticipation. His fingertips sink so easily into your folds, parting them and gliding his digits through the slickness of arousal seeping out. Your head tilts back, eyes closing from the pleasure steadily streaming through your body. Joel lowers his face, inhaling your tantalizing scent, which unleashes a throaty moan from his chest. He’s gentle when carving a path through your arousal with his tongue, noting how your thighs twitch ever so slightly when he glides over your throbbing clit. 

“Mmm, how does she taste, Joel?” Tommy asks, voice breaking through the silence between the three of you—Joel answers by grunting. He’s a man of few words, even now. The vibration makes you clench and groan as your hands thread themselves through Joel’s hair because you need something to hold onto. His tongue circles your clit before licking downward and dipping into your wet hole. 

You hiss at the intrusion, “Fuck, Joel,” Never fucking ever did you think your brother would be this fucking good at eating pussy -

“Joel has quite the tongue, doesn’t he, Nic?” Tommy hums as he shifts his body, lying down next to you. His mouth hovers above your shoulder, and his warm breath strews across your skin as he lowers to your breast, tongue flicking your nipple. You groan as your brain goes hazy at the dual pleasure that is coursing through your body.

You don’t know what to focus on: Joel, who is ravaging your pussy, eating it like it's his last meal on earth, or Tommy, who is manhandling your tits, biting, sucking, and marking his territory by breaking your skin’s capillaries. 

Your chest heaves, and your teeth sink into your cheek. Liquid heat blossoms in your core, and your fingers grip Joel’s hair, practically ripping it out as his tongue takes a long, broad stroke up to your clit. You gasp as he sucks it into his mouth, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“You like that, Nic? You like it when Joel sucks your clit?” Tommy has quite a filthy mouth on him, and you nod, eagerly agreeing with his statement.

“Need more, though,” You murmur, and you watch as Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, yeah? Little Nicky needs more?” Tommy teases before instructing Joel to add a finger or two, and just like that, Joel’s middle finger is circling your tight, wet hole. Tapping at it, applying the lightest pressure before it sinks inside. You’re shifting continuously, trying to adjust and make room - you can't remember the last time someone penetrated you, and Joel’s finger is so thick.  

“Relax, Nicky,” Joel rasps out, “I’m not going to hurt you….”

You order yourself to relax, but Joel can tell it’s still too much for you because he has to hold down your hip, stilling it, with his other hand. Once more, Joel latches his mouth to your clit, and twirls bud tongue around it. When Joel adds a second digit, you give a half-yelp. And when Joel curls his fingers, hooking them inside, pressing against that sweet spongy spot, heat floods your body.

Your hips grind into his face, desperately wanting more - no - needing more. Joel knows you are close to releasing because your walls clench around his fingers, and your moans have become more frequent and erratic. You’re begging, pleading, to cum.

He closes his eyes and plunders his way through, lapping and sucking your every fold. He’s tuning you to a rhythm that has your hips rising to meet his pistoning fingers, and that’s when Joel hits that perfect combination, unleashing a wave that swells and rolls across your body. Your back arches off the mattress, squealing, “Oh, fucking hell, Joeeeeel-” 

Your core tightens, and your toes curl as bright lights burst across your shuttered eyelids. Sticky wetness pours out, covering Joel’s finger and mouth, but he doesn’t stop until you’re thrashing beneath him. Unable to take any more, you gently push him away; otherwise, you know he won’t be stopping anytime soon. 

Having denied his meal, Joel gives you a sullen look with pouty lips that glisten with your nectar. You shudder at the sight and reach for Joel’s body because you need him and his cock. You tug off his boxers, springing free a heavy and lengthy cock, similar to Tommy’s. At the sight of pre-cum dribbling down from his slit, your mouth waters. 

“Like what you see, Nic?” Joel rasps as his hand reaches down, closing his fist around it. He pumps it once, twice, and you swear, it’s bigger than before. Your eyes widen, thinking it’s too big - this is something you haven’t considered before. Your past partners definitely did not measure up to what your brothers are packing. 

“It’s so big….” Your voice trails off, heat blossoming across your cheeks. You feel silly for asking, “Is it even going to fit?”

Joel smirks, “Oh, darlin’... that’s why Tommy goes first -” 

“That’s fucking right,” Tommy growls. Suddenly, Tommy’s hands groped your body, pulling you up the mattress so you’re in its center. Joel sees your disappointment. He knows you want him to be the first, but Joel and Tommy prefer it this way. It’s not only better for them, but it’s also better for you. Tommy’s cock is the perfect starter. Meanwhile, Joel’s cock is the perfect finisher. 

Tommy looks elated as he positions himself between your thighs, cock in his hand as he nudges it through your slick, wet folds. A deep, throaty moan spills out of his mouth, and he pushes his cock into your entrance. Your cunt is pliant now but still not loose enough, he comments, “Ah, what a tight fucking cunt you got, Nic,” 

It hurts, but it’s a good hurt. The type that makes you want more, and so you open your thighs, making room for Tommy. His body vibrates with tension, and he glides his cock forward, sinking into wetness with a sudden thrust. Your mouth falls open, “Shit, Tommy -”

“Fucking hell, Nicky,” He groans, rolling his hips back and snapping them forward as your velvety hole welcomes every inch of him. His throat bobs, sucking in a sharp breath, “Fucking better than I could’ve ever imaged,”

“Yeah?” You reply breathlessly. You hate to admit it, but dirty-talking Tommy is doing inexplicable things to your body and mind. You need to hear more; his encouragement alone could easily drive you to another orgasm. 

“Yeah, Nic - fucking perfect cunt,” Tommy drops his head against your shoulder, his cock nuzzled deep in your cunt. He’s trying to catch his breath, and he’s trying not to spill his entire load right then and there. But having you in this position, your walls suctioning all around him, is making him disintegrate. 

His stomach flexes, struggling to remain composed - fuck. The lack of pussy has him weak, skirting the edge of an orgasm all too soon. He’s barely even fucked you. He’s disappointed in himself. You feel Tommy’s embarrassment, and you wrap your arms around his torso, whispering into his ear, “C’mon, Tommy… don’t you want to make my pussy feel good?”

You start rocking your hips, needing more friction than what he can give. He hisses at the movement, body trembling against yours, “Fuck me, Tommy - fuck me,” Your legs shift around, locking Tommy in place as your pussy clenches around his cock, coaxing him to move. To do something. 

“You feel so good,” You lick and nip at his earlobe. He hisses in response, his hips slowly bucking to meet yours. He’s trudging forward, head hanging low, trying not to blow his entire load. 

“Mmm, do you like my pussy -”

“No more talking,” Tommy tries to quell you. Eyes closed, jaw straining, “You’re gonna make me cum, talking like that,”

Cockily, you continue to spew filth at him, “Oh, yeah, Tommy? Are you gonna cum in my pussy - are you gonna come in your sister’s pussy?”

Heart pumping wildly inside his chest, Tommy’s body seizes, and his orgasm punches through. A shaky groan, gritty and low, escapes from his chest. The room fills with ragged breathing as he ejaculates his sticky seed in your cunt. As his cock twitches and empties, Tommy shudders and gasps into your shoulder. 

His body presses against yours, needing momentary support as he wrestles with himself, feeling mortified at his lack of stamina. He used to go for hours; hell, girls would line up for a chance with Tommy fucking Miller. So, it takes him an extra moment to convince himself that this was just a one-off. 

“Next time?” He whispers, hoping - what is the likelihood you’ll be down for another round? You plant a tender kiss against his chin, hands sweeping across his sweaty temple, repeating, “Next time,”

His eyes, full of potential, snap to yours. He gives you a sheepish smile. You know you will want more after tonight because what else is there to do in this post-apocalyptic world?

Tommy moves, and as soon as he does, Joel is there to replace his brother. You barely have time to think before Joel is raising your knees, angling them apart.  Joel’s movements are quick and precise. He’s been restlessly watching you get fucked, and he’s relieved that Tommy only took five minutes because now, it’s his turn. Joel feels like he has been waiting his entire life for this moment; now, it’s here. It’s actually happening. 

A giddiness rushes over Joel, and his stomach flutters with anticipation as his eyes hungrily glaze over. He’s ready, so fucking ready to give you what you deserve. Teasingly, Joel glosses the tip of his cock past your poised entrance and rubs it against your delectable wet folds that have unmistakable evidence of Tommy. Your response is a throaty groan, watching Joel mix the precum leaking from his cock with Tommy’s leftovers.

You’re feeling lightheaded, dizzy with desire. Oh, how you’ve craved Joel. You spent decades yearning for him; you went far too long feeling like a depraved little slut for wanting to fuck your step-brother. Your perverted little fantasy is finally coming true - you have him right where you want.

Joel takes the plunge, his cock nudging into your cunt. It’s almost too much. Without Tommy’s cock to start you off, Joel would’ve never fit. You peek at the point of penetration; the sight is better than anything you dreamed of. Except his cock isn’t entirely inside - not even half. Joel definitely has an extra inch or two than Tommy. You wiggle and squirm, breathing out a scattered whimper that exudes impatience.

“Joel,” You mewl, hands groping his neck and chest. You need something to hold onto because he’s starting to push against the resistance. Joel grunts as your tight velvet walls keenly greet his cock, welcoming him inside. He doesn’t stop until he has bottomed out, cock buried to the hilt. Splitting and spreading you open, almost until a breaking point where you’re gasping at being so filled. He barely moves an inch, and your walls automatically clench, sealing around him. 

“Shit, Nic - Tommy’s right. Your cunt is so fucking tight,” Joel pulls out, and his hands slide to the small of your back, lifting into your body as he pushes back into molten wetness. He does this over and over, rubbing against the spot in your velvet channel. Your thighs tremble as a blissful pleasure travels up your spine. However, you ache for more friction. 

Noise pitches from the back of your throat, “Harder, Joel - fuck me harder,” 

And he does. He pushes your knees against your chest and tilts his hips, snapping forward with such force that you cry out, your nails digging into the side of his torso. In a matter of seconds, Joel’s thrusts have become exploratory - going from shallow to deep, reaching a point of no return as he plunders forward.

Your entire body begins pulsating, a feverish wave rolling through. A second climax is upon you, the throes of euphoria building inside your body as Joel swiftly continues, elated that he’s about to give you what you deserve. You are panting incoherent nonsense as Joel relentlessly drives his cock in and out, in and out. 

He slides a hand between your bodies, quickly finding your clit and tweaking it between his finger and thumb. Your pelvis canted upwards to meet his touch. Urgently, you gasp, needing more pressure because it’s insufficient. Joel, somehow an expert in your body, does precisely that.

Joel palms your clit, sending continuous shocks across your core, making it impossible to ignore the building pressure. When you hit the peak, it’s an endless stream of obscenities. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

You thrash beneath him, thighs squeezing shut, but Joel rips them open. He charges his hips into yours, riding your orgasm out; he loves how your smooth walls flutter around his cock, milking him. Cock drenched with your juices, Joel plows, his thrusts becoming shallow and rough. He grabs your hips, trying to control them, but you continue to undulate beneath him, desperately trying to meet his rhythm because you want Joel to fill your cunt with his cum. 

“Fill my pussy, Joel, fill it -” You coax him, voice reedy, hitching on the last word. Joel’s eyes shuttered close, his lashes like dark half-moons against his skin. Your pussy is persistent, swallowing his cock without resistance now. 

A rush of ecstasy flits through Joel’s body, and within seconds, the tension of the coil is snapping. He loses control, and his strokes stutter out, cock surging with a powerful load of spunk that paints the inside of your cunt.

“Holy fuck, Nic,” Joel’s head snaps back, his throat shuddering as he tries to calm the carnal rush raging through his body. His cock twitches and convulses as it continues to empty weeks' worth of pent-up frustration. You marvel at the feeling of being stuffed with your brother’s warm seed, legs locking around his waist because you need every single drop. 

As it ends, Joel’s energy drains. The excitement has dulled into the tranquility of release. As he gently pulls out of the warmth, his movements are sluggish. You feel the remnants of your brother's love seeping out of your gaping, used hole. Your taboo appetite has been satiated, and you’re excited about the prospect of what will happen next time. You are thinking of taking both their cocks at the same time when Joel’s voice interrupts the daydream: “Still thinking of leaving us, Nic?”

You give a breathy giggle, "No, I'm thinking about what it feels like to fuck the both of you at the same time,"