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#I mean… same background as my ex
vissla · 1 year
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Ramin Karimloo 😩😩😩
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backwzzds · 5 months
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ೃ⁀➷ love me, connie springer (nsfw)
thinking about babydaddy!connie fucking you nice and slow after finding out you got stood up by your date. having little constentina (his idea, but tina for short) for the weekend, your precious angel just couldn’t keep her mouth shut to her daddy when you’d told her you were going on a small ‘dinner’
“she said dinner but that really means date, daddy.”
connie isn’t surprised. no one knew how to handle you beside him. i mean, he’s had your ass in place successfully for nearly ten years; only he was man enough to handle you, your mind, and most of all your body.
you loved connie like no other, you wanted no one else to be the father of your children. but you knew the streets would eventually take him away from you, and you just didn’t wanna stick around for that. not when you had a five year old girl depending on the both of you. connie looked for other ways to make bread without selling or doing anything…illegal but it was hard to match the stacks he was bringing home every weekend.
your separation was a one sided agreement anyways it seems. to you? you two were broken up. to connie delulu ass? you were his wife and you’re ‘smoking dick if you think ion belong to you and you’on belong to me.’
you didn’t even have any words for the absence of your so called ‘date.’. after an hour of waiting, you figured you’d call in to check on tina. ringing connie, your babyfather answered on the first ring, of course with a wood in his mouth and multiple lights on his face, signaling he was watching tv.
“hey,” your voice is solemn and low. you really were tired and ashamed to say anything more.
“hey mama, you okay?” connie’s hazel brown eyes quickly flick over to yours through the screen.
you shrug though he can’t see it. “i’m okay.” you admit. “just callin’ to check on my baby.” the frame was only on your face, but from the small shake of your hand, connie had managed to get a glimpse of a pretty black dress you’d sported, breasts looking three times as big as it usually did because of your sitting position. he could tell you dressed up for the night.
“yeah? she good, just upstairs sleepin’ right now. how was your date, pretty?” you hear connie turn down the tv in the background and give you his full intention.
you furrow your brows. “what? boy, how’d you know about it?”
your baby father blows out a huff of smoke and chuckles, flashing his gold canines. he wasn’t gon snitch on his lil informant princess. “i got my ways. tell me bout it baby.”
with a roll of your eyes, you let out a tired sigh and felt your shoulders sag. “wouldn’t know. the nigga never showed.”
connie furrows his own thick eyebrows. “what you mean? he told you he couldn’t come?” he asked. from the shake of your head, you see his face soften on the screen. “come over n’ smoke with me. lemme make you feel better.”
you kiss your teeth and throw your head back, already knowing where the conversation was headed. embarrassment flooded your expression. “you eating my pussy is not gonna make me feel better, constance.”
connie kissed his teeth and waved you off dismissively. “you’on know that.”
a blush can’t help but creep its way onto your brown cheeks. “i’m supposed to be staying away from you, ya know.”
connie gives you a knowing grin, shamelessly flexing the two deep dimples in his cheeks that constentina inherrited from him. “yeah? how’s that going for you, mama?”
“obviously not good because i’m actually considering your offer of being a booty call tonight?” you laugh.
“come onnn mama, tina’s sleep, i got a wood rolled for you and i want you here.” your ex compromised with a kiss of his teeth. “lemme rub ya feet and all on ya butt i promise you’ll feel better.
“i’m tired and don’t feel like driving, con,” you whine in the same tone. you knew if he didn’t have your daughter he’d already be at your door, but you refused to risk waking her up in a car ride over here.
connie rolls his eyes and puts you on pause for the moment. a minute later he comes back on screen and takes a pull of his backwood. “your uber on the way baby.”
“ooh daddy,” you cried, trying your hardest to breathe straight. “you know i cum fast like this, oh shit,” connie had your legs spread wide open, forcing your huge tits up against the bottom of your face as he pumped in and out of you.
“you like that mama, like when i fuck you nice and slow? all romantic n’ shit?” connie teased. tears streamed down your face and he wasted no time in kissing them from your pretty face.
you’re too far in euphoria to even fully comprehend exactly what he’s saying. “yes, i love when you stroke this pussy so deep daddy.”
connie holds your breasts up damn near to your face and takes his time sucking on each of your nipples, making sure to stretch and pull it all the way back as far as it could go, grinning at the sound of it snapping back toward you. “you’on need no one else to love you like this but me, you heard?”
you can’t help but shake your head, the small responsible part of you left that hadn’t been fucked out by connie yet (though he was close) was slowly bringing you to reality. “no,” you respond.
“nah, nah, dead that shit or imma stop,” your ex threatened, straightening his back out so he stood tall, yet still very deep inside your gummy walls. you can’t help but stare down the tattoos that littered his body; many dedicated to you and your shared daughter. “you grippin’ me so tight baby, boutta make me cum, fuck,” connie throws his head back and whines. “tell me you’re mine n’ we gonna get back together.”
“no, con,” your words were saying one thing, but the cream ring of your arousal forming around connie’s tanned dick was betraying everything leaving your mouth. “w-we’re we’re toxic—oooh, yes, right there right there!”
suddenly, a large pair of hands come to wrap around your neck, gripping lightly. “tell me you’re mine or im not fuckin’ this pussy,” he orders. “you know i don’t be bluffing, mama. ‘specially when it come to your spoiled ass déjame oírte decirlo.”
more tears fall from your eyes as you feel your lower region bubble in evstasy. “con—“
“say it if you wanna cum.” connie’s grip around your neck tightens as he inevitably starts to babble. he was not gonna let up off you no matter what. “come on mama, say it n lemme give you another baby. gonna make you a mama all over again, want you so full of my babies, pretty—fuck,” he breathed out. “you know daddy sorry, you gonna forgive him?”
it wasn’t until connie started to add his thumb rubbing circles around your clit did you finally fold and give in. “oh fuck, yes! yes yes i forgive you con—please—“
“go head and cum mami, te quiero.” connie breathed out, feeling his own orgasm approach. “te amo joder joder por favor dame más hijos mami te estoy rogando déjame correrte dentro de ti,” the man curses into the atmosphere as he strokes himself in you a few more times.
“yes yes,” you nod in response to his pleads of cumming in you. a nanosecond later, connie’s cumming deep into you until he ends up shooting nothing but blanks. you’re full to the brim to the point where drops of his cum couldn’t help but ooze out between your puffy cunt.
“dio mio.”
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freedomfireflies · 5 months
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Reckless*
Summary: The third part to Knockout*
The one where Harry secretly gets paid to fight, but you're the one paying the price.
Word Count: 9.2k (...no comment)
Content Warning: 18+, violence, mentions of an abusive ex, mentions of blood, smut
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Harry’s fist instantly snaps closed around your hand, subtly but pointedly tugging you back. Seeming to want to put a bit of space between you and the man standing before you.
“Oh, do you…know each other?” you ask slowly, glancing between the two rather curiously.
Jesse offers nothing more than a raise of his eyebrow, redirecting his attention back to Harry as though encouraging him to respond.
Harry merely grits his teeth. “We used to. Long time ago.”
It’s hardly an answer, somehow just as frustratingly vague as you expected, yet you nod, nevertheless. “Ah. I see.”
Jesse’s smile somehow stretches a bit bigger. “Are you working today?”
“Uh, no. Just…came by for the keys,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other almost nervously. “Why?”
He shrugs. “Thought I’d…maybe stick around a bit? Catch up?”
Harry’s grip gets stronger.
“Besides, today’s pie is apple, yeah?” he asks. “You know it’s my favorite.”
You force a tight-lipped grin and a hum of acknowledgement before the three of you fall silent. Continuing to stand by the door to the diner as the rest of the room continues on with their lunch. Their soft murmurs and clinging cutlery like white noise in the background of the conversation. 
You clear your throat. “Okay, well…I’m gonna…I’m gonna tell him goodbye, and—”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” Jesse says, waving you away before returning to the counter. “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be right here.”
The last word has hardly left his mouth when Harry suddenly spins on his heel and drags you back through the door. Pulling you into the parking lot without so much as a goodbye before leading you around the side of the building.
“Harry,” you murmur hesitantly, almost cautious of his rather silent reaction. In the little time you’ve known him, you’ve never known him to be this quiet when he’s upset. Or this well behaved. “What’s wrong, what is it?”
He continues his furious stride until he’s brought you both into the alley. Releasing you in order to run a hand through his hair with a strained, “Fuck.”
You slow to a stop and stare at his tensed back. “Harry?”
A long pause. Deafening and loud enough to lodge your heart in your throat.
Finally, “How do you know him?”
“What?”
“Fucking Jesse, how do you know him?” he repeats, somewhat viciously.
Your head tilts. “We…I mean we’re friends, but we…we used to date. For a while. Couple years ago. Why?”
He turns, and the pinching of his features together makes your stomach twist. “Was it him?”
“…Harry—”
“Was it…him?” His eyes flick to yours. “The one you fucking told me about. The one who treated you like shit, the one who fucking threw things at you. Was it him?”
You’re almost surprised he remembered. After all, the revelation of your last relationship had been quite a while ago. An off-handed comment made one stormy night as you sat together in his favorite booth, talking about the past and exchanging odd traumas.
But he does. He remembers. And he’s looking at you like your answer is going to break his heart. 
You suck in a quiet breath and hold it deep within your chest. “Yes.”
Your voice is small. Timid and weak, nearly carried away with the wind. But it reaches him, nevertheless, and his expression guts you.
He steps back. Trying to get away, either from you or your admission. The truth he can no longer stand to be so close to.
“Why?” he whispers, and your lashes flutter. “Why did you…why would you keep him in your fucking life after he…”
You offer him the same answer you’ve offered everyone else. “I don’t know.”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and takes another step. Glancing over your face as if searching for more than you have to give. “Cherry…”
“I know.” You can feel the tears already working their way to your waterline. “I know, but he’s…he’s trying to do better. He’s trying to change—”
“Oh, that’s fucking bullshit,” he scoffs, hands shoving into his pockets almost vengefully. “No, that’s bullshit. He’s not…guys like him don’t change. They just get better at hiding it.”
Maybe he’s right. But it stings to hear. “I…yeah. I know. But we’re just…we’re friends. We don’t talk a lot, just when he needs help.”
“So he uses you?”
“No, he…” You hesitate. “I don’t know. I don’t think he means to—”
His vile scoff cuts through the rest of your excuse, and perhaps it’s for the better.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, fingers itching to reach for him. You feel naked without his body against yours. “I should have…I should have warned you. Or told you, I just…I didn’t think—”
“Are you safe?”
You stop. “What?”
“Are you safe?” he repeats, a tad softer. “When he’s around you, do you feel safe? Do you know that you’re safe, and that he won’t…that you can leave? If you need to?”
 You consider this for only a moment before nodding once. “Yes. He’s never…it’s never been like that. He’s just…he gets very angry. And sad. And I think…a part of me wants to help, I guess.”
His expression drops ever-so-slightly, as if wounded. “I know, Cher.” He moves closer to you once again, and you feel like you can finally breathe. He places his palm against your cheek and brushes his thumb beneath your eye. Wiping away the first tear. “You always give your kindness to those who don’t deserve it.”
 You take hold of his wrist and bite back a sigh. “Everybody deserves kindness.”
“Maybe.” His voice is quiet. Labored and thick. “But maybe you deserve it more.”
There’s something…heavy in the way he speaks. In the way he feels. As though he’s carrying the entire weight of his world – and yours – on his shoulders. 
You know there’s more to the story. More to this anger that’s so prominent in his heart and more to his background with Jesse. You want to ask, want to understand.
But if he wanted you to know, he would have offered.
Maybe he thinks he’s sparing you. Maybe he thinks he’s protecting you in the only way he can, and you feel grateful for him. Grateful for this subtle, unspoken act of intimacy and protection that you’ve become so familiar with in the time you’ve known your handsome stranger.
You choose to have faith in him. In what brought you to him.
“I have to go,” he says now, dipping down to brush his forehead to yours. “Cause if I don’t, I’ll fucking kill him.”
You smile to yourself, but a part of you knows he means it. “Okay. Will I see you again?”
His other hand slips around the back of your neck, keeping you close before he exhales a shaky breath and brings his lips to yours. Kissing you hard and with a thousand unspoken promises. “Of course. M’never gonna leave you, sweet girl. Swear it.”
And it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.
You kiss him until you can’t breathe, clinging to his hoodie as if begging with him to stay. To keep himself close to you.
And when he eventually pulls away, you nearly crumple to the ground.
“Okay,” he whispers, reaching back to slip his hood on. “Okay, I gotta go. Or I’ll never leave.”
You touch your fingers to your lips and nod once. “I know. Just come back, okay?”
He grins, and it’s wickedly delicious. “Always.”
With that, he turns around, and disappears down the alley. Rounding the corner of the building before disappearing from sight.
Leaving you exactly where he found you, only a few hours ago.
With a heavy heart and weary mind, you make your back into the diner and toward the man still waiting for you.
Jesse has never scared you. Annoyed you, but never scared you. He’s been in your life far longer than you care to admit, ever since you were just kids. And maybe that’s why you keep him around. Because a part of you believes you owe it to the people you used to be.
You loved him. You really did. He was cute, charming, witty. He made you smile, made you laugh. He listened when you talked, said all of the right things. Of course you wanted to believe him when he said he’d do anything to make it work.
His anger had taken him away from you. Had changed who he was. Or perhaps merely highlighted who he’d always been.
He was the one to end things. Claiming he could never offer you the life you deserved. That until he had his temper under control, he couldn’t be with you. You had agreed to remain friends and help him when he lost his way.
He seems to lose his way a lot these days.
And maybe that’s the part that scares you…just a little bit.
“Hey, sugarplum,” he calls once you enter, grinning brighter than he has in weeks. “You all right?”
You nod as you join him near the counter, hands disappearing into your pockets as if to hide. “Mhm. Are you?”
“Absolutely.” He leans over to nudge his elbow against yours. “Feel like it’s been forever.”
“Jess, I saw you last week,” you can’t help but laugh.
“I know, but that was last week,” he argues coyly. “Which is like a lifetime ago.”
And even if there’s a part of you that feels cautious of him, there’s also something so familiar about his company. The sound of his voice, the way he laughs. His effortless ability to remind you of the way things used to be.
Despite how it ended, you can’t help but feel calmed. Your muscles unwinding as you grow a bit more comfortable in his presence.
“Ha, very funny,” you tease, stepping closer as though drawn in by his charm. “Well, if you’re waiting for the apple pie, that’s not until tomorrow.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to come back.”
The conversation lulls as the two of you smirk at each other, and for the first time in days, you don’t feel so on edge.
 “Fine,” you agree. “But you can’t come back to the kitchen with me. Not after last time.”
He pretends to pout, but it only makes you smile. “Oh, come on. Everything was going so well up until the flour incident.”
You reach out and shove his shoulder playfully, and he laughs. “All right, enough. Why are you really here?”
“I told you, I wanna catch up. Clearly I’ve missed a lot.”
The mention of Harry is like a sharp needle to your blissful bubble, popping you free of his spell until you come crashing back to earth. “Right. How, um…how again do you guys know each other?”
“Oh, we don’t. Not really,” Jesse explains, shrugging one shoulder up almost casually. “We used to go to the same gym. Spot each other now and then. But we never really knew each other, I guess.”
“Ah.” 
“Was kind of surprised to see him with you, though,” he adds. “But good surprised. I told him he should come check out the diner, and I’m glad to see he listened."
Harry’s previous mention of how he found you suddenly clicks, and you nod, eyes drifting toward the floor. “Yeah, he…he seems to like it here.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Good.” He seems oddly thrilled by this. “And I guess you two are…?”
The implication brings a rush of heat to your cheeks, and you quickly shake your head as you step back. Almost as though guarding yourself from his question. “Oh, no, we’re…we’re just friends. Or we’re…yeah. Friends.”
His brows furrow but he’s smiling. “Are you…sure about that?”
No. “Yeah. We don’t…we don’t really know each other that well, is all. We just…we like to talk.”
“I see.” He studies you for a moment, somewhat curious. “I’m glad he found something here he likes so well.”
The heat in your face begins to burn. “Yeah, he…he really likes the pies.”
Jesse hums, expression mischievous. “Yes. The pies.”
You force a laugh and nudge him again. “Okay, enough. I should…I should probably get back—”
“Wait,” he interrupts, slipping off the stool in order to get closer, “is there…any chance you’d fancy a drive? Thought we could go around the block a few times like we used to. Just…listen to the radio and people watch.”
Truth be told, the offer is compelling. Because you know if you go home, all you’ll do is worry. About Harry, about Jesse. About all the things you wish you could do for them but can’t. 
Maybe a distraction is what you need. One day where you aren’t expected to fix everybody else’s problems but your own.
So, you nod. Tentatively but with a small grin that makes Jesse’s entire expression light up. 
“Great,” he chuckles before nodding his chin at you. “So…do you want me to drive? Like old times?”
Your answer is to dig back into your pocket for the keys before tossing them over. “Think you already know the answer to that.”
He laughs again and spins the ring around his finger. “Then let’s hit it, sugarplum.”
It’s almost too easy to settle back into your old habits. To follow him to your car, hop inside the passenger seat, and allow him to take you away.
And it’s nice. Comfortable and…safe. Windows down, music loud. The two of you singing along with every bad song that comes on. It really does feel like it used to, and for just one evening, you forget about everything else. And you let yourself just…be.
The two of you drive around the city until the sun goes down. He tells you about his new job at this fancy law firm and you tell him about this new recipe you’re working on for the diner. You talk, and you laugh, and you sing until your stomach hurts. 
You forget. And you’re okay with that.
“Okay,” he finally declares not much later after a quick glance at the clock. “I know you have to get back, but I just have one last thing I want to show you.”
Your brow raises. “Oh? What?”
“A surprise.” He begins to grin, almost wickedly, and it makes you smirk. “It’ll just be a quick little detour, and then I’ll have you home. Promise.”
You consider this for only a moment before sighing. “Fine. But just for the record, I hate your surprises.”
He merely winks before taking a left and leading you both out of town.
The further you go, the darker it gets. This part of the city appears to be rather neglected, with very few lights along the street to guide you. The buildings are rundown and abandoned, there’s police tape over half the doors and boards across half the windows. 
Sketchy would be putting it mildly.
Yet Jesse appears undeterred, swinging into one of the large, unkempt parking lots where a collection of cars are already gathered.
“I don’t…understand,” you begin slowly, glancing around the dark space in search of answers. 
However, instead of answer, he merely puts the car in park, tosses you the keys, and hops out. “You’ll see. Come on.”
Despite your hesitancy, you choose to follow, trailing after him as he begins toward one of the shabby buildings just up ahead. 
There’s a strange sort of itch crawling its way up the back of your neck. Blossoming into your cheeks until you feel a twinge of apprehension.  
But Jesse walks ahead as though he hasn’t a care in the world. Nonchalant and relaxed, leading you to the door.
Then, he knocks twice, stops, and adds three more.
A beat passes before there’s a sharp, electric buzzing. Immediately followed by the sound of something rather heavy before the door suddenly swings open.
Your breath catches.
The inside of this disheveled building is divine. Luxury drips from floor to ceiling, a rather stark contrast to its exterior. There’s fresh paint on the walls, towers of champagne in each corner of the room, and a crowd of men and women dressed to the nines in their most elegant and expensive outfits.
But there’s something off. They’re yelling, and cursing, and cheering. Raising their glasses while shouting at something happening in the middle of the room. 
And that’s when you see him.
Even from this distance, you’d recognize him anywhere. The soft, sweaty curls matted to his forehead. The blood that drips from his mouth and jaw. The tattoos and marks that glisten from his chest – the same tattoos that you saw for the first time only hours ago.
Your stranger. Landing hit after hit to the man standing just opposite him inside the large ring. 
You don’t move. You don’t think you can breathe. You can’t think straight or understand…and then Jesse throws his arm around your shoulder.
“Let’s go have a look, yeah?” It’s posed like a question, but he’s already leading you toward the crowd before you can decide on your answer.
Your heart is in your toes as he slips through the collection of onlookers. Pulling you to the front until you have a near perfect view of the violence happening only a few feet away.
A perfect view of him.
You’re not sure how long he’s been at it. Clearly long enough, if the new cuts and fresh bruises are any indication. He doesn’t seem to notice you, instead throwing his arm toward his opponent before ducking down to miss the strike back. 
You hear yourself gasp as you recoil away from the forceful blow, nearly hiding yourself beneath Jesse’s arm while he laughs.
“What’s the matter, sugarplum?” he hums. “Thought you’d wanna see what your little boytoy gets up to when he’s not with you.”
You can hear it now. The vindictive sneer hidden beneath his charming chuckle. And that uncomfortable itch begins to burn as you pull yourself back in order to see him. “What?”
Jesse nods toward the boxing ring. “You see, when he’s not with you…he’s quite busy. Beautifully and spectacularly fucking me over.”
You feel the blood drain from your face. “What…what are you talking about?”
“Do you know what this is?” He raises a brow. “Do you know what he really does?”
“He…he fights. He gets paid to fight.”
“Right. And who do you think pays him?”
And that’s when it happens. That’s when the final puzzle piece clicks into place, and you understand. You see the whole picture laid out in front of you, and it wears his face.
“You.” It’s a strained, timid whisper that’s buried beneath the loud, vulgar hollering.
Jesse nods. “Exactly. I pay your boyfriend to beat the shit out of anyone dumb enough to get into that ring with him. And all he has to do…is fucking win.”
The cheering grows louder in your ear as he steps closer. Forcing your attention to split between the two men.
“But I have a problem,” he continues. “You see, Harry can win a fight in his goddamn sleep. He never loses. Ever. That’s why I pay him so much fucking money. That’s why I’m his sponsor.”
Your stomach twists.
“So, imagine my surprise when he suddenly started to lose. Night after night. Over and over. Constantly and consistently losing fights he should have been able to win with his fucking eyes closed.”
There’s something trapped in your throat. The room is spinning, and there’s a ringing in your ear that just won’t quit. 
“And then I find out…he’s fucking throwing them.” His hand finds your hip and he turns you toward the ring. “Every goddamn night, he throws the fight. Because, for some reason, he seems to think that these fights are up to him. He thinks that he gets to decide who wins and who loses.”
He leans down now, lips hovering near your ear while his voice settles into a rather malicious hiss. 
“But the only person that really loses…is me,” he sneers. “Because if he doesn’t win, then I lose a shit ton of money on him. And I don’t really think that’s fair…do you?”
You suck in a quiet breath right as Harry steps back to avoid a massive swing before landing his own blow just beneath the man’s jaw. 
“So, I wondered. Wondered why the switch. Why he’d suddenly be willing to lose so much money and allow his ass to get kicked into his throat…for nothing.”
He leans back now, and your lashes flutter.
“And then I found him…with you.” He tsks almost teasingly while his head cocks to the side. “Seems my best fighter has found himself distracted. Pussy-whipped by a pretty face that serves him fucking pie. And he thinks that if he throws the fights…he can save you.”
A set of knuckles connect with Harry’s left cheek, sending him stumbling back while you suck in a sharp inhale and turn away.
“So…I want you to watch,” Jesse tells you, snaking an arm around your waist in order to keep you in your spot. “I want you to fucking see what you’ve done to him.”
Your features twist into a fearful grimace as you drag your eyes back to the ring. Watching as Harry swipes the back of his hand across his mouth to clear the blood before surging forward. He swings and it’s a miss. Arm flying over the other man’s shoulder before he’s shoved toward the rope.
He’s losing. A few more strikes to the face and you’re almost sure he’ll pass out.
And you don’t understand. Can’t comprehend any of this. Why Jesse brought you here, why Harry does this to himself, and why you’re somehow a part of it.
They lied. They both did. Harry looked you in the eye and told you he didn’t know Jesse. Even when he knew about…all of this.
Jesse being involved in some sort of illegal fight club doesn’t surprise you. Perhaps it should, and yet, it might be the least surprising thing you’ve learned so far. 
But Jesse being Harry’s sponsor…being the one who pays him to do this to himself, who gambles on Harry’s very life…
Another strike is laid to his jaw, forcing Harry’s head to snap to the side.
And he sees you.
You watch the realization pass over his face in real time. The way his eyes widen and his lips part.
He stumbles back from the blow, catching himself on the ropes before Jesse tightens his hold on your hips…and Harry looks over.
The rage that settles into the lines and details of his features is evident. The way his teeth grit together, the way the veins in his neck strain against his skin, the way his fingers flex by his side.
He must understand why you’re here now and he channels this understanding and rage into his next hit.
He spins to the side, flings his arms around his opponent’s waist, and yanks him down.  Throwing him so hard to the floor, you’re almost surprised he doesn’t break his spine right down the middle.
Half of the crowd cheers while the other half yells in disappointment.
But Jesse merely smirks.
And you realize that this is what he wanted. To use you as a tool in his game. A pawn for his pleasure until Harry’s hand was forced.
Harry rears back only to raise his fist into the air. Over and over, he lands his knuckles to the man’s face. Hit after hit after hit until there’s blood everywhere. Dripping from his knuckles, the man’s nose, his mouth.
He doesn’t stop. Even long after he should, and the man has gone limp. He goes and goes and goes until the referee has to physically step into the ring and drag him back.
And the fight is declared over.
They grab Harry’s wrist and sling it into the air, raising his arm in victory while the room hollers their support. 
Your heart is racing inside your chest, going far too fast, and you feel a rush of blood to your head. Your knees are shaking, and your hands feel clammy, and you can’t breathe and why won’t that ringing in your ear stop?
“This is what he’s good at,” Jesse murmurs to you now, lips ghosting down the shell of your ear. “This is all he’s good for. And he fucking knows it.”
The room begins to disperse while Harry is led out of the ring and into the shadows on the far side of the building. 
Your eyes and your heart go with him.
“So, you’re gonna do what you do best,” Jesse continues. “You’re gonna remind him why he has to fucking win. Because if he throws one more goddamn fight…I’ll fucking kill him myself.”
With that, he releases you, and turns around. Disappearing into the crowd before you can stop him.
You stand there, in the middle of this extravagant room, and you stare at the ring. And the blood stains on the mat. And the shadows that dance across the floor from the chandelier on the ceiling. The collection of empty glasses and empty promises that are scattered about the vast space.
Then, your feet are pulling you toward the door Harry disappeared into. Taking you to him, despite everything else. Because even after all of this, you want to help him. To make sure that he’s okay, and…and fix him. Somehow. 
The door leads to a hallway that leads to what you can only assume is a locker room. It’s empty when you arrive, although you aren’t too surprised. The other fighter was taken to the opposite end of the building, and the people who led Harry away don’t seem to be around.
You hesitate for only a moment, attempting to decipher if you truly feel safe being alone with him after everything you’ve seen in the past 24 hours.
But the answer is obvious.
So, with a deep breath, you brave a step inside. 
The shower is running. Steam already beginning to dance through the air as you pass by the collection of lockers and benches. Looking for any sign of him. Your stranger who perhaps isn’t so strange anymore.
You see his clothes tossed toward the floor. See a trail of scarlet streaks leading you further into the room and toward the showers just around the corner.
And you don’t hesitate now as you step past the wall in order to see him.
He’s standing beneath the stream of water, one hand braced against the wall as he stares down at the floor. Watching the blood disappear down the drain.
And he’s…beautiful. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him – all of him – and you feel your breath hitch as you step closer. Allowing your eyes to travel along his tall, tensed frame. From his curls to his thighs and everything in between.
“Harry?”
Your voice snaps his head up, and he turns. Instantly pushing off the wall in order to fully face you. 
“Cherry, you can’t be here,” he breathes, and it’s almost lost beneath the heavy stream of water. “Can’t be in here, it’s not safe—”
But you’re already moving closer, toeing off your shoes and tossing your jacket aside before stepping inside the showers. 
His lashes flutter, the muscles in his stomaching quivering as he leans back. “Cher, I mean it. You can’t…I can’t let you see me like this.”
You step up to him. Ignoring his protests and the water pouring from the ceiling, you step up, you put your arms around his shoulders…and you hold him.
At first, he goes still. Deathly still, almost bracing himself from your touch. Afraid of what it means.  
Then, he settles. Understands that you only want to help, and slumps into your embrace while his face buries into your neck.
You reach up and run your palm down his head. Carding your fingers through the wet curls before squeezing the back of his neck. “You’re okay.”
He takes in a sharp inhale, arms snaking around your middle. “You shouldn’t be here,” he says again. And his voice breaks like the cracks of a sidewalk.
You merely hold him tighter. “But I am.”
And there’s so much to say. So much to understand and question, but right now, he just needs you to hold him. To let him know that it’s okay – that he’s okay.
That you’re not going anywhere.
You stand there for what feels like hours. Until your clothes become soaked, and your fingers begin to prune. But you keep your grip on him tight. Offering nothing more than soft murmurs of, “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
He’s angry. So very angry, and you can feel it in the way his muscles twitch beneath your hands. Can hear it in the shallow breaths he takes and the clenching of his jaw. 
He’s trying to keep himself together. For you. But he’s moments away from slipping, and you can only hope you’ll be able to bring him back.
“Harry?” you whisper, scratching your nails down his bare shoulder.
His head shakes. “No. I don’t wanna fucking talk about it.”
“Har—”
“No.” He leans back, lip curled up into a snarl. “No, I can’t…I fucking can’t—”
“Okay, okay,” you interrupt, taking hold of his wrists to keep him close. “Okay, I understand—”
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says for the third time. “You aren’t supposed to be here, and I can’t fucking believe he brought you.”
“I know. I know, but I’m okay. It’s okay, I promise—”
“What did he say?” His eyes flick between yours. “What did he say to you?”
You feel your insides twist as you squeeze his hands. Taking a moment to find the right words. “He…he wanted me to see what you really do. And…to tell you that you have to win.”
His brows stitch together. “What else?”
“Nothing,” you lie. “Just…just that.”
And maybe he doesn’t believe you. Maybe he knows there was more to Jesse’s threat, but it doesn’t matter because he’s tugging himself out of your grasp and turning toward the wall before you can argue. Sending his knuckles straight into the tile until it cracks.
You gasp, quickly surging forward to pull on his arm in protest. “Harry—”
Surprisingly, he allows you to yank him away, but he doesn’t look at you. He keeps his venomous glare on the drain, chest heaving with uneven breaths.
But you aren’t deterred. Instead, you guide him back to you, and lift his hands. Studying the torn skin of his knuckles closely with a sigh. “Harry…”
The wounded waver in your voice makes his expression soften, and he allows his shoulders to roll back. Releasing a bit of his rage. “It’s okay. M’okay, Cher—”
“No,” you argue softly. “No, you’re…”
You can’t find the words. Can’t find the right thing to say that explains this anguish in your heart. That lives within your chest.
So, instead, you bring his ruined hands to your lips, and you hold them there. Kissing the stained, battered skin while he sucks in a quiet breath. 
And you don’t care. About any of it. About the fights, or the lies, or the threats. You don’t care what he really does or who he really is. 
You just want him to be happy. To be safe. No matter what that looks like. No matter what you have to do to make that a reality. 
You want to kiss away his scars, kiss away his pain. Take it and make it your own. Carry the weight he’s been trying to carry all by himself.
You don’t want him to be alone. You want to keep him, you want…
He watches you. Keeps his eyes glued to nearly every inch of your face as you do this. And something changes for him. You aren’t sure what.
But he sets his anger free before slipping his fingers from yours in order to take hold of your face.
And he kisses you. Pulls you to him almost desperately before pressing his lips to your own.
It’s soft, and sweet, and so deliciously him. Gentle despite everything else you’ve seen from him today.
He steps forward, subtly pushing you back. Again and again until your back meets the wet, tile wall.
He holds you there almost hesitantly before straightening up and deepening the kiss. Slipping his tongue in beside yours and savoring everything you have to offer. 
And you let him take whatever he’d like. Allow him to have all of you as his chest meets yours and he cages you there. Hungry kisses now moving for your neck.
His touch travels to your hips, nails curling into your shirt as though resisting the urge to grab hold. And you smile as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. Breath hitching at the way his thigh brushes against yours.
You drop one hand to his chest. Allow the tips of your fingers to dance along the swallows on his collarbone and toward the muscles in his abdomen. Careful to mind his stitching and new cuts.
And he seems to remember now that he’s completely bare to you, his mouth falling still against your wet skin as he steadies himself.
Quickly, you stop yourself from going any further, settling atop his stomach before nosing under his jaw. “You’re so beautiful, Harry.”
He says nothing, lips ghosting across your pulse point before pressing in deep. 
“All of you,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful.”
His lashes flutter shut while his arm loops around your back. Face burying in your shoulder as though to hide, and you wonder if he’s embarrassed or enthralled. 
Either way, you gingerly ask, “…may I touch you?”
There’s a quick pause before he nods. Only once, and then he returns to leaving an array of kisses to your throat. Nipping at the skin until you smile.
So, you continue your search, moving your hand toward his hips and down until you feel him.
And the moment your palm brushes against his cock, you both gasp. Straightening up almost attentively before settling back into the pleasure. 
Your thumb finds his slit and he curses. Hands tightening around the fabric of your shirt, keeping you against the tile as if he’s worried you’ll disappear.
“Shit,” he mumbles, palm moving to your cheek. “Baby, you know you don’t have—”
“Shh.” You wrap your fingers around the tip before smoothing down. “I want to. Please?”
When he says nothing, you stop, and it forces an instant groan. His body seeming to have made the decision for him.
“Yes,” he finally says, nodding again but quicker. “Shit, yes, Cherry. Can do whatever you want. M’yours.”
And it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
You chase after his pleasure as though your life depends on it. And perhaps it does, but you certainly don’t mind. Because his grunts and pants are deliciously addictive. And you could spend the rest of your life touching him if it meant you’d get to hear just one more.
And maybe now you understand why he’s also so determined to do the same for you.
You run your hand up and down his cock, squeezing the tip before moving lower. Palming at his balls before dragging your touch back to the top. 
He does his best not to rush you or overwhelm you. Resisting the urge to buck his hips closer in a desperate attempt for more.
Instead, he focuses his attention on you. A role he seems much more comfortable in.
He kisses you everywhere he can. Your lips, your cheeks, your jaw, your nose, your neck. Below your ear, along your collarbone, and down the dip in your shirt.
Then, his fingers slip down to your jeans. Absentmindedly fiddling with the button before he whispers, “Can I touch you, sweet girl? Wanna make you feel good, too.”
And who are you to deny him?
“Always,” you whisper back, releasing him for only a moment so he can wrangle the wet material down your legs. 
Once he has, he straightens up, and runs his palm along the inside of your thigh. Indulging in the feel of your skin while you take him back in your hold.
And it’s strangely beautiful, this dance you do. The synchronicity of teasing touches and playful strokes that leave you both breathless.
Anytime you gently tighten your fist around him, he curls his finger inside your walls. And anytime you brush at his slit, he brushes at your clit. 
You both share a smile when you realize, and Harry laughs before nuzzling his face back into your neck. Tugging your skin between his teeth to muffle his groan.
“You have no idea how badly I needed this,” he says. And it’s a faint thought, perhaps not meant for your ears. “Fucking need you, baby. Always.”
Your head drops back against the wall. Your body already growing sluggish under the weight of undeniable euphoria he inflicts.
“You always have me,” you tell him. “I’ll do whatever you want—”
“Shit.” He yanks your chest to his, mouth painting warm, wet kisses along your skin. “Don’t say that. Don’t, or I’ll never stop.”
You grin. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
You go faster. Finding a pace he seems to enjoy and zeroing in. You want him to cum – need him to cum. To offer him that release and that promise of more. 
And it works. His tattoos rise and fall under the weight of his frantic gasps for air. He’s tipping over the edge, just needing a final push, and you want to get him there more than anything. Want to see what his face looks like when it’s overcome with pleasure. When he’s releasing into your hand, or your mouth, or your cunt. Want to feel him, know how his body moves when it’s spent.
“Please,” you murmur, almost anxiously as you work him closer. “Please, Har…let me feel you. Wanna feel you cum, please.”
He moves to squeeze the back of your neck before his hand disappears into your hair. Gently but pointedly tugging on your roots. “Baby—”
“It’s okay. It’s okay, you can cum. Can cum for me—”
“Fuck.” He jolts forward, fingers slipping from your cunt. “So good to me, sweet girl. So fucking good to me. Don’t deserve you. Never deserved you—”
“Yes,” you nearly whine. “Of course you do, Har, please—”
He cums with a soft groan that bleeds into your throat. Woven between his kisses and flicks of his tongue to your skin, and it’s everything. The warmth, the feel, the implication. It covers your hand, and wrist, and even parts of your thighs. 
And you watch it drip down toward the floor almost regretfully, but you’re mesmerized. Addicted to something you only just discovered, and desperate for more.
But he gives you no time to reminisce, instead moving his mouth to yours in order to show you exactly how much it meant to him.
  “Knew you’d be good,” he remarks playfully, nipping at your bottom lip before squeezing your waist. “Fucking knew, yeah?”
You release his cock as gently as you can before smoothing your palms up his chest and into his hair. Tugging on his curls in order to bring him closer. “Just for you.”
He smirks to himself before leaning back to study you. Glancing over your body as though in search of something. And the longer he looks, the angrier he appears to become.
Then, he mumbles, “He fucking touched you.”
Your heart wrenches. “…Har—”
“He touched you,” he says again, bitterly, and almost to himself. “He fucking put his hands on you and he made sure I saw. Wanted me to see, and now…now I can’t see anything else.”
You don’t think you’ve ever felt a panic like this. “Harry, please—”
He crouches down, large hands curling around your thighs and pulling them as far apart as they’ll go. Which, admittedly, isn’t very far because of the jeans still pooled around your ankles. But he doesn’t mind, instead staring at your legs rather thoughtfully.
Finally, he looks up.
“I need to wash him away,” he whispers, and your stomach leaps into your throat.
“What?”
“I need to wash him away,” he repeats softly, moving closer to ghost his lips along your hip. “Need to erase him. Need to clean him off you.”
Your fingers twitch by your side, and you aren’t even sure what to say. Because the look in his eye is unrelenting, and you can see how badly he wants this.
“Okay,” you exhale. “Okay, erase him. Make me yours again.”
And this is all he needs to hear, wasting no more time before smoothing his lips and his hands along your thighs and waist. Repainting every inch of you with his touch. Washing away the metaphorical marks Jesse left when he held you and replacing them with his own. 
Even if it’s not inherently sexual, it’s the most erotic and wonderful thing you’ve ever experienced. The way he feasts on your flesh like a man on a mission. Nipping and licking at you just to make you whimper. He’s nowhere near your clit and it doesn’t even matter because he’s so divine.
The heat of his mouth on your cool, wet skin. The way he gingerly kneads at your ass in an attempt to comfort you. Tenderly pulling you closer as though you’re somehow still too far away.
“I’m sorry, Cherry,” you hear him sigh, and it makes your insides tighten. “M’so fucking sorry for doing this to you. For bringing you into this.”
Your expression drops while your head shakes. “You didn’t. You didn’t, I asked. I asked to be a part of you, and I don’t regret that.”
But it’s like he can’t hear you over the sound of his shame. Instead kissing you softer as if to apologize. “It’s my fault. Should have told you the moment I saw him. Should have taken you with me. Shouldn’t have left you with him when I fucking knew—”
“Hey.” You reach down and take hold of his hair. Yanking his attention to you. “None of this could ever be your fault. Do you understand?”
He seems to ignore this as well, nudging his nose against your hip with a crestfallen expression that makes you want to scream.
So, you tug harder, forcing his head back and his eyes on yours. “This is who Jesse has always been. You didn’t change that, and you never will. And I know that. I know him. I know his heart and I know what he’d do to hurt me.”
His lips part, as if going to speak, but you merely tighten your grip in an unspoken order to remain silent.
“And I know you,” you continue. “I know that this is who you are. All of this. The fighting and the bets and the torture you put yourself through. And I know that you would never hurt me. That you have always done your best to protect me, even if I didn’t know what I was being protected from.”
His hands begin to drop down your legs and toward the floor, an act of complete submission. 
“This is not your fault,” you repeat earnestly. “You are not responsible for Jesse’s intentions, and you’re certainly not reasonable for mine. And I need you to know that. Okay? You have to know that. Because I have never felt safer than I do with you.”
His features remain unchanged, and you wonder if he heard anything that you said at all. If he understood and internalized your instance. If he’ll believe it.
And then—
“I love you.”
You feel your pulse skip inside your chest as you suck in a quiet breath. “What?”
“I love you, Cherry.” He says it again without pause, without a moment’s hesitation. Proving that it wasn’t a mistake or a trick of the mind. He really said it. And he meant to. “And m’so fucking sorry it took him for me to realize it.”
You aren’t sure what to do. What to say or…what to think, but he’s already shaking his head and offering you a small smile before you can decide.
“I don’t want you to say it,” he says quickly and quietly. Slipping your hand from his hair in order to press his lips into your palm. “I just want you to know. And I wish I could have done it differently, but…I do, I love you. And I will do everything I can to prove that to you.”
You want to tell him that he already has. Want to tell him a lot of things that maybe you shouldn’t, but he doesn’t give you the chance.
He merely kisses your hand before moving back to your thighs. Looking for your permission to continue. 
Breathlessly, you give it to him.
With a soft grin and great care, he extends his tongue and slowly drags it up your clit. He’s not rushing this time. He’s enjoying it. Allowing himself to indulge in your taste and your feel as you slump against the tile and let him.
He leaves a trail of apologies and promises along your pussy. Kissing, sucking, and flicking until you squirm. And he’s so focused, so dedicated to your orgasm. To making you understand how badly he needs you.
And you do understand. More than you’ve ever understood anything else.
“Love to see you, baby,” he murmurs after a moment, now running the tip of his finger between your folds and down. Taunting you with the intrusion yet not giving it to you. “Love to see this pretty pussy take me.”
You whine pitifully before he finally pushes in. Allowing your walls to beckon him closer until he hums.
“Can’t wait to see you take my cock,” he muses, thrusting the digit once or twice before bringing a second into play. “Gonna watch you stretch for me. Gonna just sit and watch this sweet, little hole take me in. Get me nice and warm. Till I’m soaking in you. Fucking drenched—”
“Harry,” you whine, overcome by a rather euphoric rush that makes him smirk. “Harry, please—”
“What, sweet girl? You like the sound of that?” He ignores your cries and flicks his tongue against your clit. “S’okay. I do, too. Think about it more than I should. Think about you and this tasty little cunt till I’m fucking my fist in the shower.”
The lewd image that’s painted in your head makes your toes curl, and you imagine you’d give anything to watch.
“But it’s not nearly as good as when you do it,” he says coyly. “Won’t ever be able to picture anything else but your sweet, little hand wrapped around my cock. Making me cum like a good girl.”
He adds a third finger, and your vision goes hazy.
“And this,” he breathes, fucking into you a bit faster. Until the sound of your arousal bounces between the walls. “Replay this in my head every goddamn day. The way you sound when you take my fingers, take my tongue. S’fucking beautiful, Cher. The best thing I’ve ever heard.”
You believe him.
“Wanna listen to you forever.” He laps at you like he’s dying of thirst. “Wanna taste you, wanna feel you. Wanna fucking hold you and never let you go. Never let anything hurt you. You’re the only good thing in my life, sweet girl. Need you to know.”
You aren’t sure if the tears in your eyes are from the pleasure or his admittance, but they fall from your cheeks almost mercilessly. And you can’t even wipe them away because, in some strange sort of way, you enjoy it. This pain and this angst that comes with the man on his knees before you.
“You’re mine, yeah?” he asks next. But the lustful undertone is gone. He’s pleading with you now. Begging you. “Not his, but mine. Always mine.”
Your agreeance comes before you can question it. “Yes…yes, I’m yours. Yours, I promise—”
 He groans into your cunt like he’s never been happier. And the reverberation down your thighs and across your clit nearly ruins you. “Say it again. Say it again, baby, please—”
“I’m yours. Just yours, Harry. Not his. Never…never his—”
“Fuck.” He pulls on your thigh in order to bury his mouth into your pussy. And you almost wonder if he’s actively trying to suffocate himself. “Again. Again, Cherry—”
“Yours.” The word drips from your tongue like honey from a honeycomb. “Just yours. Don’t wanna be anybody else’s.”
His entire face is nuzzled between your legs, and it almost kills you. Because he’s so beautiful. You’ve never seen or felt something so ethereal, and you can’t look away. Even when your eyes are desperate to fall shut, you force your attention on him. Watching as he mouths at your clit and drives in his fingers until it hits you.
You nearly collapse onto the floor, but he refuses to let you. Keeping you upright before you can go slipping down the wall and cementing you to his tongue in order to drag you through to the other side. 
“Mine,” you vaguely hear him hum, and your heart flutters. “Always mine.”
When he’s sure you’ve caught your breath, he straightens back up, and takes you in his arms. Kissing you and holding you and keeping you safe. Making sure you understand that he wants more than your orgasms. He wants you. Even without the explicit words, you know his true intentions. Know where his heart truly lies, and you settle there beside it.
Moments pass before either of you speak again. Instead listening to the sound of the running water hitting the floor. 
And you’re afraid to be the first to break this tranquility. Because you know once you do, you might not find it again. Jesse’s threat still lingers rather prominently in the forefront of your mind. And you’re terrified that every time you look at Harry…you’ll remember.
“Cherry?” he whispers minutes later, and your pulse jumps. 
You bury your face in his neck, bracing yourself from whatever he might say next. “Harry.”
He nuzzles his cheek against the crown of your head and sighs. And you can feel the heaviness of the breath leave his body. “I don’t know what to do.”
The vulnerability makes your throat run dry, and you subsequently tighten your arms around his middle. “Don’t have to do anything.”
“Cherry—”
“No, just…we’re okay,” you insist. “It’s okay. You just…you’ll win. You’ll keep fighting and you’ll win, and we’ll be okay. And I won’t have to lose you.”
A beat. “But what if I lose you?”
“You won’t. Never.”
“But he knows, Cher,” he murmurs. “He knows, and he’ll use you to hurt me. He’ll drag you into this as many times as he fucking wants, and he’ll use you. And I can’t let him – I won’t let him.”
“I don’t care. I don’t care what he does, he doesn’t scare me, Har—”
“But he fucking scares me.” His volume rises until it can carry over the shower walls. “All right? He terrifies me. Because now he has the one thing I can’t fucking…”
Your eyelids flutter before you take hold of his hand.
“And he wants to play this stupid fucking game, and I won’t let him,” Harry continues. “I won’t let him use you or threaten you, okay?”
“Okay,” you whisper. “Okay, but you’re the one with all the cards. Right? He’s shown his hand. He’s shown how desperate he is. He can’t do anything to me if he really wants you to listen—”
“You don’t know him like this,” he nearly scoffs. “You don’t know what he’s willing to do—”
“Harry—”
“I can’t…I can’t,” he seethes. “I can’t get him out of my fucking head, and I can’t let him win. I won’t let him win.”
He’s unrelenting. Unwavering in this insistence and you feel as though your insides are being twisted around a knife.
All he has to do is win. All he has to do is let Jesse believe he’s still in charge. And he’ll be okay. You’ll both be okay.
“Harry,” you try again. Softer this time, hoping to reach him. “We’re gonna be fine. Okay? It’s you and me. We’ll be all right. We have to be.”
His expression instantly drops before he dips down and lays his forehead to yours. 
He says nothing else. Offers no more ideas or excuses. He simply exists in this belief and the serenity it provides.
Even if he knows it’s not strong enough to stand on.
“Okay,” he finally mumbles. “You and me.”
And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard. Because for the first time all night, you see the way out. You see a future where he can be who he is, and you can be who you are, and it can still be all right. Where you can be together and be free of any threats and complications and just exist in this little world you’ve created.
A world outside of the diner and the backseat of his car. A world where he offers you more than his orgasms but his secrets, too. His life. And you need that. You need it more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.
He leads you out of the shower not much later, digging through his things before offering you his hoodie and sweats to wear home. 
And there’s something so intimate about wearing his clothes. The way the tattered fabric feels against your skin. The way it smells like his cologne and the shampoo he must use. The way it fits your frame as if it was always meant to, keeping you warm despite the frigid air that greets you when you step outside.
You offer to drive him home, but he refuses. Insisting that it’s better if you don’t know where he lives, at least for right now. And you don’t have it in you to argue.
He makes you promise to lock your door the moment you get inside the car, and to lock your apartment door the moment it’s closed. You vow to do both before dragging him closer for a kiss.
And he gives it to you. He gives you five kisses, in fact. One on the forehead, one on each cheek, one on the nose, and finally…one on your lips.
 When he lets you go, you feel empty. Lost. As though a part of you is missing, and it aches the entire way home.
In fact, it aches for the next two days until you can finally see him again. And you busy about your shift, watching the clock like a hawk until midnight finally strikes, and you fly through the kitchen doors. Ready to see him and fill this gap in your chest.
But for the second time this week…booth 505 is empty. 
Instantly, the blood drains from your face. All the way down to your toes, and almost feel faint as your shaky legs carry you to his table.
However, the moment you’re close enough, you catch something just out of your peripheral, tucked just beneath the sugar dispenser. Something that most certainly wasn’t there a few minutes ago. 
A note.
With furrowed brows, you slip the folded napkin free and bring it closer. Straightening it out until you can make out the haphazard message scrawled across in black ink.
Meet me at the station after your shift.
Don’t tell Owen.
H.
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Next Part:
~ Uppercut*
Previous Part:
~ Whiplash*
~ Full Knockout Masterlist
~ Main Masterlist
Amazing divider by @firefly-graphics! 💞
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itsjustaninchident · 7 months
Text
To the moon and to Saturn 🪐
Lando Norris x Model!Reader
socmed au
summary: where they give the audience chaos because of their rumored "breakup"
warning/s: sexual innuendos (if you squint)
author's note: just a little something to get me out of writing slump 🥹 there's a part 2 to this fic if you wanna check it out🫶
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, lilymhe, and 203,839 others
yourusername busy week
view 2,394 comments...
user1 MOTHER IS MOTHERING
user2 PLEASE MARRY ME
user3 mother is living her best life and im here for it
user4 GET OUT OF THE WAY LANDO IM GONNA STEAL HER
user5 kinda sus no lando in the comments simping over how hot she is
user6 TRUE he usually comments and likes her post like a second after she posted it 😭
user7 there's got to be something
user8 no there's just something wrong in y'all's head...
user9 yeah leave them and their relationship alone
yourfriend back and better in black
liked by yourusername
user10 interesting...🥴
user11 what do they mean by this😭
user12 maybe because it's been awhile since yn got back in modeling after her supporting lando and going on a vacation with him?
user13 you guys are reading into this too much
lando.jpg
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liked by maxfewtrell, pierregasly, and 897,475 others
lando.jpg parties and a tad bit hungover...
view 23,495 comments...
user1 YOU CAN'T JUST POST THE 2ND PHOTO AND GET AWAY WITH IT
user2 i believe he's thirst trapping his way out of the issue
user3 what issue?
user2 some are saying him and yn broke up
user3 lol people are too obsessed with their relationship im not surprised we won't get any posts from them anymore lol
user2 true
maxfewtrell nice music but please don't throw up on me next time
maxverstappen1 why was i not invited
landonorris you were busy with something else🙄🙄🙄
maxverstappen1 oh i see you're still on it...
user4 am i delusional if i think this is about yn ?????
user5 babes im gonna be delusional with u
user6 yeah no❤️
user4 what if they just fought?
user6 what if you all leave them alone lol
danielricciardo nice party, hoping for that one more important invite next time😜
liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 237 others
user7 don't mean to ruin the vibes but where's my girl yn :((
yourusername
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liked by charlottesine, isahernaez, yourfriend, and 890,938 others
yourusername welcome to new york
view 23,103 comments...
user1 THE GIRLS ARE BACK
user2 THEY'RE SO HOT
user3 WAIT SHE'S IN NEW YORK???
user4 CAN'T BELIEVE MOTHER AND I ARE BREATHING THE SAME AIR
user5 im sorry but it's been like a month of them not posting each other😭
user6 it's been a bad month for us😭
user7 my parents :'(
user8 them in one frame is too much to handle
user9 uhmmm why is she hanging out with the exes????👀
user10 maybe because they're still friends and her girlfriends' breakups has nothing to do with their friendship???
user11 ikr... is she like a member of the club now?
user12 i hope not lol
isahernaez missed you so much! And im so happy for you❤️
liked by yourusername and 1,790 others
user13 her liking it...
user14 she's happy for her meaning she's like in a better place now????😭
user15 don't do this to me
user16 geez they cant even say anything that you guys do not to relate to her relationship lmao
via twitter...
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via instagram...
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, maxfewtrell, and 2,347,987 others
landonorris just married my best friend, the love of my life, and my better half. I love you until one can reach the sky.
tagged: yourusername
view 89,739 comments...
user1 WE WERE MOURNING THEIR "BREAK UP" ONLY TO BE WOKEN UP TO THIS POST😭
user2 this is my childhood bestfriends to lovers trope!
user3 no cause where's mine?!
user4 this is so much better than a black background and default font ig story announcement that they broke up😭
carlossainz55 i hope yn can make it through the night when she hears you snore
landonorris I don't snore!
carlossainz55 sure and birds cant fly
yourusername some birds can't
landonorris see???
yourusername but you do snore love
user5 IVE MISSED TIMES LIKE THIS😭
maxverstappen1 can't believe you got married before me
user6 you better watch your step mister, I'm literally right behind you.
landonorris 🫡 i would not dare
yourfriend oh yeah you'll never hear the end of it
yourusername stop threatening my husband😭
user7 "husband"😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 all of us are crying
lewishamilton congrats mate!
liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 72,309 others
yourusername
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liked by carmenmmundt, lilymhe, and 1,295,670 others
yourusername Love you to the moon and to Saturn❤️
tagged: landonorris
view 50,405 comments...
user1 no because you don't know how happy i am for them😭
user2 i can finally sleep in peace at night with a smile on my face knowing my parents literally got married
user3 i have never once cried over celebrity couples getting married but this😭
user4 kinda valid knowing how much they went through just to be where they are now😭
user5 from them being childhood bestfriends to being enemies to being best friends again and now they're married?!😭
user6 im so happy for them 🥺
lilymhe congrats love! just tell me if lando hurts you I will literally snatch you from him
yourusername you're first on my contacts
landonorris hey! no fair
charlottesine gotta admit i shed a tear seeing you walk down the aisle🥺 so happy for you!
yourusername love you cha!
user7 yn is so blessed with her husband and her friends🥺
user8 and they're very blessed with her too🥺 she's like the gentlest most loving person ever
liked by landonorris and 29,654 others
landonorris very lucky to have her as my wife
user9 THEY JUST CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF CALLING EO HUSBAND/WIFE😭
user10 im gonna bathe with my toaster
user11 gonna lay down on the road
yourusername awww are you trying to ask for more lasagna?
landonorris did it work?
yourusername nope :P maybe kisses will do for now?
landonorris never mind the lasagna, brb gonna get it you owe me about a hundred ;)
user12 not them flirting under the comments!!😭 Get a room!😭
user13 oh they're abt to
1K notes · View notes
kakushino · 9 months
Text
Burden... or asset?
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Uzui Tengen x Fem! Reader
Tengen recieves a crow telling him some bad news.
Tags: angst, self-worth issues, fluff, orgy, aftercare, sub reader, sub Makio, soft dom Hinatsuru, mean-ish dom Suma Word count: 14,2k
Masterlist | Part 1
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A crow came flying just as you were leaving the estate for your date. The grimace on Tengen's face signified bad news arrived, a slip of paper in his hands.
"What is it?"
"My… best buddy is in the Butterfly Mansion. Run-in with an Upper Moon."
Since you came back, he'd told you all about his current occupation and standing in the corps. It was fascinating. You’d been removed from the so-called ‘world news’ due to your Mission, so it all came as a surprise. It was also curious how you’d never run into a demon before. 
“We can cancel our date. You must be worried…” you offered, taking his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Tengen still looked torn. “If you want, I can go with you?” 
And so, your time together was cut short - he took you in his arms and rushed off with an urgency you hadn’t seen since you came home.
The room in Butterfly mansion was decorated with origami cranes; there was a vase with fresh flowers at the bedside. The man, who you came to see, laid on the sick bed and had hair like dancing flames, though partially hidden by bandages. The whole room might have smelled like disinfectant but the overall feel of it was homey, cozy, lived-in; a very colorful display - flashy and flamboyant.
“Well, well, well - look at you. The white of the bandages does bring out your eyes. Maybe you should wear them more often,” Tengen said in a teasing tone, voice a little thick despite his bravado. 
His best buddy smiled broadly. “That’s why I wore the white haori, Tengen. It has always flattered us Rengoku men, hasn’t it?” The volume of his speech could barely count as an inside voice; it reminded you a little of your half-deaf grandma, back when she was alive. Perhaps he’d sustained an injury of sorts… 
You would be the last person to judge him for that.
Tengen sat heavily on the chair next to his bed as if he carried a crushing burden on his back, while you lingered a few feet behind him, feeling like you shouldn’t be here.
“I’m glad you’re alive. I came as soon as I heard… Though you left for that Train over a week ago. What delayed the news?” 
“Shinobu told only my father and brother at first, said I needed the quiet and space - even though I was unconscious! Though apparently, that was pretty bad!” he smiled brightly, as if he weren't in critical condition just a few days prior. The bandage over his eye, half his head and torso down to his abdomen sounded more than pretty bad to you. “Senjuro came to visit me while I was out of it… Though I wish he didn’t have to see me in such a pitiful state.”
Tengen huffed in amusement, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “You are certainly a sore sight for my flamboyant eyes, Kyojuro.” The movement revealed your form to the injured man.
He glanced towards you. “And who is this beautiful lady with you?”
Tengen smiled brightly. "Right - Kyojuro, this is Uzui [Name], my first wife. [Name], this is Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame Hashira."
"Ex," Kyojuro interrupted. "I guess I was hurt pretty badly! Shinobu told me I'm no longer in any fighting condition." 
You blurted out the first thing that came to mind, for it was a question you, yourself, were struggling with. "What will you do now? If you don't mind me asking…" What will I do? How can I channel my energy? 
“[Name],” Tengen turned to you, eyes narrowed. He seemed displeased with your question, as if he weren’t wondering the same thing in his mind.
Kyojuro smiled brightly, completely at ease despite your intrusive question. "Why, I’ll do as all retired Hashira do - train new slayers. Perhaps I shall find an inheritor of Flame Breathing as well!" The optimism this man had was unreal.
The conversation faded into a background noise. Train new slayers, he said. You didn’t want to train new shinobi. You’d thought about getting into wifely hobbies, but that only filled your idle hands; not your mind nor stamina nor skills were being put to use, and it was frustrating to say the least. You itched for some action, despite what had happened during your last so-called action.
“-be discharged in about two weeks. Shinobu is assigning a nurse for me until I’m all healed up! And Senjuro will keep me company as well!” The loud and enthusiastic voice of the retired Hashira broke through your thoughts at last.
Tengen glanced at you for a moment, before he faced Kyojuro. “[Name] could help out too. I’ll be going on a mission soon.”
You shot him a sharp look. This was news to you. And rude to offer your company without consulting you first.
“My other wives haven’t sent any messages the past week. Something must have happened, and I need to find out what,” he said in a hush, all traces of good mood gone from his face. 
Your heart clenched. He was willing to go for the others when he lost contact. He didn’t just simply assume they were lost. You weren’t sure how you wanted to think about this, how to feel about this. You buried your emotions before they had the chance to surface.
“I see. That is important indeed. Wouldn’t it be better if you took [Name] along though?” Kyojuro looked at you, tilting his head slightly. “You both could work together to collect your wives! Like a date! But a bit more dangerous.”
You pressed your lips together tightly. That was a good question. Why did he not want to take you with him? You’d gained back the lost weight and filled out to your previous body shape. You’d kept up a light work-out regime to get back where you were before the last grueling months at the Mission. Did he not trust your skills anymore? You clenched your fists.
Tengen shook his head, the beads on his headband clinking together. “It would be better for her to stay. My wives were investigating an Upper Moon sighting in an entertainment district. Losing contact is more than bad news.” 
Why was he talking as if you weren’t there? You weren't just a breeze, nor were you a doll to be set aside when inconvenient nor were you a painting, to be displayed and kept at home. You were a warrior - a warrior who had the same amount of experience as him. How dare he?
“I’m here, you know? You could have just turned to me and asked. If it’s a red district then my aid would be more valuable - especially to find out about Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio’s whereabouts,” you finally spoke up, your voice flat. “If you remember, my skills lie in espionage, Tengen.” 
There was a slight flush on his ears at your scolding. “You’ve never fought demons before, and that’s why you’ll stay and help out Kyojuro. I’ve got things handled.” 
"I'm not made of glass. If those three can help you, why can't I?" 
"Of course I know you're not made of glass. May I remind you glass wouldn't be able to take my co-"
"Stop," you interrupted Tengen, your face feeling hot. Kyojuro had been watching the two of you escalate the argument, lone eye going back and forth as if he were watching children play with a temari ball. "First of all, this is no time to joke around. Your wives are in danger, our wives-" You were still a little mad he'd gone through a mutually binding sort of marriage, making you the wife of Hinatsuru, Suma and Makio as well. "Second, you know me, you know my skills. You know I can help and that I'm willing to help, despite what happened when I came back-"
"That's a low blow and you know it. I thought you were dead. You forgave me alrea-"
"Shut up while I'm talking, Tengen!" Your chest heaved with your rapid breathing, anger nearly taking over.
Your husband was in no better condition; he used his size to loom over you, trying to intimidate you into submission. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body, somewhat more intense than usual. His eyes were slightly lidded but his expression impassive; it was hard to tell if he was aroused, as he used to when you were having an argument in your teenage years, or truly angry.
“You can’t just put me on a shelf like a pretty housewife. You need my help. Admit it-” 
“You’re staying and that’s final!” Tengen suddenly shouted, making you flinch. You took a quick step back from him, adrenaline coursing through your veins. His eyes were wild, jaw clenched, muscles tensed. “You’d be nothing but a burden.” 
You froze, breath stuttering in your chest. 
He sidestepped you and left the room. 
Nothing but a burden.
You’d been nothing but a burden since you reappeared in his life, haven’t you? You crushed his heart, destroyed his home, and you had yet to prove you were worth the complications arising from your presence. 
So despite his continuous reassurances, this was how he truly felt…
“[Name]?” 
You looked at Kyojuro, his worried expression saying it all. “I’m alright, I just-” your voice broke and you wiped your tears quickly. You hadn’t even noticed when they started falling. “I’m sorry you had to witness this.” 
He waved you off with a dim smile. “You’re absolutely fine. It’s my first time seeing my best buddy like this, but all I can say is that it’s not your fault. It was me who stoked the flames when I should have left the matter be, and for that I deeply apologize. If I could, I’d bow to you.” Kyojuro laughed awkwardly before wincing and putting a hand on his abdomen.
All thoughts of Tengen flew out of your head as you stepped closer. “Hey, hey, easy… I think you shouldn’t laugh until that wound is all healed up.” Your belly scar throbbed at the thought of what the former pillar is going through. “Do you need me to call a nurse? Do you need any painkillers?” you fussed over him, sympathizing deeply with his pain.
A drop of sweat ran down the side of his face as he grimaced. “I think I’m fine. I just need to Breathe a little… Would you keep me company in the meantime?” He gestured to the chair right by his bed.
You hesitantly sat down. "Alright, Rengoku-san."
His smile made you feel at ease. "Excellent. Let me tell you about that one time Tengen and I…."
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Tengen left. 
He left you there with Kyojuro and went on the mission in the same breath. It hurt more than perhaps his words.
Nothing but a burden.
“Good afternoon, Rengoku-san,” you greeted the man with a smile. 
“Good afternoon, Uzui-chan!” he beamed at you. “The Gods have given us the best kind of weather to walk home in, wouldn’t you agree?”
Your mind flashed to the wagon you would be transporting him in. A walk, right… You were given instructions by Shinobu to sedate him if need be. “That is true, and please, call me [Name].”
Kyojuro was already slowly shuffling out of the covers. “Then you may call me by my given name as well! I’m so excited to get home.” His wide smile was infectious, the black eye-patch doing nothing to diminish his bright expression.
Warmth spread through your chest as you helped him to his feet. Kyojuro was such a positive soul; despite your dark thoughts, you never felt lesser with him. You would love to become his close friend, if he’d let you.
“Alright, let’s get you to the cart. Aoi and the girls already packed up all the origami and dried flowers you wanted with you.” You supported him as you walked through the halls of the Butterfly mansion.
“Thanks, for everything. Your presence during my days of recovery cured me of my boredom,” he said quietly, surprising you that he even knew how to talk in such low tones. Perhaps he realized shouting nearby sick rooms of other patients was not polite.
“It was no problem. I enjoyed my time with you.” You two walked out of the mansion. He leaned against a wooden pillar as you knelt at his feet to put on his sandals. 
“I apologize you have to serve me like this.” Kyojuro seemed embarrassed. 
You shook your head with a smile. “It’s quite alright. Soon enough, you’ll be able to do it yourself!” You tried to be as positive as he was, making him smile slightly. “Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you looked at him shyly, face feeling hot.
Kyojuro just beamed at you. “Good thing you’re the kind of friend who helps instead, hm?”
Relief flooded your lungs, allowing you to take a deep breath. “Of course! Now let’s get you home!”
Pushing the cart loaded with a recovering Hashira and thousands of colorful stuff he wanted with him was quite the work-out you haven’t anticipated. The kakushi responsible for such had been called away on an urgent clean-up of a battle scene, and Shinobu personally asked you to do it, so you couldn’t refuse. At least he kept up a pleasant conversation on the way to the Rengoku estate.
A mini-version of Kyojuro was sweeping by the gate when you arrived. You tilted your head, studying him.
“Little brother!” 
The boy looked up and smiled brightly, quickly running over, letting go of the broom. “Big brother!” He clutched at the side of the wagon, glancing over the bandages Kyojuro still wore around his torso. “Father wouldn’t let me go see you since you woke up.”
Kyojuro’s smile was like the Sun, if you looked for too long, your eyes would tear up. You had to turn away from the intimate scene, one you weren’t worthy to witness. Why were you even there? 
"Senjuro, this is [Name], Tengen's wife. [Name], meet my younger brother, Senjuro," Kyojuro drew your attention back, as if sensing you felt left out.
Senjuro bowed slightly. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Kyojuro’s younger brother. Thank you for bringing him home.”
"Why don't you come in for a while? You need rest after such a long journey," Kyojuro offered, already trying to get out of the wagon unassisted, prompting you to move forward to help.
You smiled. “Okay, but only for a little.”
The day wore on, pleasant conversation lulling time into a background blur as you got to know both young men more. Tea was served, then dinner. Your belly hurt from laughter, and your cheeks might as well have been stuck in a permanent grin. 
Golden light washed over all three of you as you sat by the engawa, the two little Suns with you glowing in the true setting star. 
"Might as well stay the night. The road to Uzui home is long." 
Senjuro brightened at the suggestion. “Yes, stay with us! I’ll go prepare a room for you, big sis!” He ran off too quickly for you to react to the bomb he dropped on you. Big sis was a name you’d never heard in your life, yet it made blood rush to your face as Kyojuro laughed, clutching at his stomach immediately after as pain flared from his wound.
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Analyze the situation, as you were taught to do while being a shinobi - a kunoichi. Yet you could not take a step back from the emotional turmoil in the stuffy room you were given, and so the full moon saw you sitting on the engawa of the Rengoku estate, nothing and everything flitting through your mind’s eye.
You were alone.
The night felt cold, as if you could never see the Sun again. 
Light breeze fluffed your hair, calming the whirlwind within for scarcely a second. 
A door slid open. The light clack of a cane told you who exactly it was.
“You’re supposed to be resting, Kyojuro-san,” you murmured, not looking at him.
“I’m not that old to be resting all the time, [Name]-san.” You could nearly hear the grin in his voice. A heavy grunt accompanied his warmth appearing at your side. 
“Well, you are still healing. And you might pull a muscle or something.” A smile appeared on your face, the banter distracting you a little. 
“Oh, you just know how to kick a man while he’s down.” Kyojuro chuckled, the deep sound reverberating in your bones. “I don’t deserve your teasing, you know?”
“...that is true.” Your smile dimmed a little. Perhaps you shouldn’t be so familiar with him. He was your husband’s best friend, though Kyojuro made you feel so comfortable, so warm - something you didn’t deserve to be, especially when Tengen was out there, in danger, alone.
He was on a hunt for an Upper Moon demon. And you were there sitting on the engawa, doing nothing - when you could have been there, helping.
Nothing but a burden.
“I don’t want to be a burden, Kyojuro-san. I want to be an asset,” you confessed, staring into the darkness, so alike to the one you held inside your heart. You wanted to be cleansed, to be free at last.
And he knew just how to help you. “You know, the next Final Selection is in a week.” Kyojuro grinned. “It would usually be impossible for a normal participant to get ready in a week… You were a shinobi though, weren’t you? Do you know how to wield a blade?”
You nodded eagerly, your hair falling into your face.
“Sit with me then, I will teach you all there is to know about Total Concentration Breathing, [Name].”
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“When did you intend to tell us you had a wife before us?” Suma asked, as gently as she could, after exchanging so many glances with the other two as they walked to the Butterfly estate.
The question shouldn’t have caught him off guard; he was actually surprised they didn’t press when [Name] had arrived back into his life, but now wasn’t the time to press this issue. He was dying from demon’s poison not an hour ago, he was exhausted, and Obanai’s late arrival did nothing to alleviate his bad mood. 
“I was going to tell you…” Tengen sighed. “I was going to tell you once it stopped hurting.” His heart clenched at the thought of her gone, disappeared, dea- “I didn’t know she’d come back.” He faced the sky, the sun too bright against his lone eye - he now matched with his best buddy, he thought wryly - trying to swallow back his tears. 
He didn’t deserve to cry about this, about her. He’d doomed her before he confirmed it himself. In a way, he had tried to redeem himself by how he treated his new wives, but he now saw the error of his ways. No amount of- whatever he was doing right now could have erased his guilt now that he knew she was alive all along. And that hurt more than anything.
The thought that he failed her destroyed him on the inside. Each day he saw her after she came back was agony. When she showed him her scars, he wanted to die, to rip his heart out of his chest and offer it, still beating, as compensation for the horrors she had to live through. And yet… it would not be enough, it would never be enough.
“Tengen-sama…” came Hina’s soothing voice. “We understand it must have been painful, but now that she is here, we need to know more.” 
There was a lump in his throat, making it hard to swallow past the emotions and memories resurfacing. Tears pooled in both his eyes, making him wince when the salty liquid touched the wound on his left one. All that ran through his mind when the pain registered was that it was just a fraction of what she felt while she was away on that Gods forsaken Mission.
“We’d met when we were thirteen… still kids but you know how it is in the shinobi world,” he started hoarsely. “It wasn’t long before we started to fall… I saved up all my money and bought the mansion we live in to this day.” 
There is one room you can’t enter, under any circumstances, okay?
It was her room, all three realized at the same time, sharing looks.
“It was foolish of us to marry, but I would have done it again. The short time we were truly together was worth it… She was actually engaged when we did it. Forbidden love at its finest.” Tengen’s eye glazed over as he stared ahead, lost in what used to be. He had been happy, both of them had been so happy despite the circumstances. They talked about starting a family, about quitting the life of a shinobi, about running away and never looking back. That kind of thinking bit both of them in the ass very quickly. “Her family was more… displeased than mine. She’d been sent on a suicide mission, though at the time, I had no clue it was that. By the time I found out, she was gone, and I was alone.”
And yet, she’d done the impossible - she came back whole, in one piece, at least physically. [Name] had no reaction to the silk yukata he gave her though, and that bothered him deeply. The bolts of turtle shell patterned fabric had been his wedding gift to her, it had been their hope, their promise, to swathe their first child in it. After her disappearance, it laid abandoned in her room. He couldn’t bear to enter it for years upon years, grieving yet in denial. He wasn't able to fully accept her death, to even think about her at all without weeping like a child.
Perhaps it was fate then, that after young Kamado’s trial, he’d commissioned a seamstress to make a yukata out of the would-be child's fabric on a whim. He wanted to hang it up, decorate the bedroom with it - a reminder and a remembrance, a threat and a promise, to never let any of his wives slip through his fingers like water. 
Tengen was blessed though, with your life, he was blessed and he-
Nothing but a burden.
He would never call himself an asshole - would have never called himself one - until you, until that, until he called you a burden.
Gods, he deserved death for that. He never should have uttered those words. How hard he tried to reassure you, to ease you back into being home, to let you slide into comfort and abandon the high-alertness that came with any mission; night terrors woke the both of you in the silence of many dark nights - memories, would-bes, and thoughts plaguing the conscious and unconscious hours of your days.
Tengen had called you nothing but a burden, the words weighing him down now, making him stop and stare into nothingness, a chasm opening in his chest at the realization that no amount of comfort could have prepared you for this, he'd hurt you, broke your trust yet again, using your insecurities against you. 
He had no excuse - sans one. He was scared, driven mad by the thought of losing you again and this time - under his watch. He was worried he couldn't protect you as he had sworn all those years ago. 
And now he was the one who hurt you - the only person, who he couldn't protect you from, was himself.
Tengen was the God of Fuck ups, not Festivals.
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As shinobi, loyalty was situational; whoever paid the most got it, and whoever couldn’t pay got dealt with. 
As a slayer, your one and only loyalty was to humans. No demon should be allowed to live - minus Nezuko - and you planned to make good on those words. 
You walked out of the wisteria forest on the seventh day, exhausted, but victorious. You’d been worried about it, since Tengen made even the lowest of demons out to be strong enough to rip you to shreds. That proved to be true - for most humans. You saw a few fresh blood puddles of where the other participants used to be throughout the week. All you could do was offer a quick and silent prayer and move on. The demons you yourself encountered were no match for your skill, though the borrowed half-nichirin half-iron wakizashi wasn’t your usual choice of weapon as a fighter, as a shinobi.
It was time to put such thoughts and memories behind you, move onto better and bigger things. 
This time around, ten people managed to pass the Final Selection, including you, though you were by far the oldest. That was fine. Even if you spent only a year, a month, a week before you perished in the line of duty, even if you helped only one person, it was worth it. Suffering was worth it.
It was atonement for a lifetime of dirty deeds under the mantle of the title Shinobi. The whole weight of it was on your back, nearly breaking your spine. But you would endure. That's what's owed to humanity after you tainted it with your deeds in the dark.
Another side of you whispered, you’re still as black as you were before, you can’t find salvation, you are selfish to the core. 
And the side was right.
Because your motivation didn’t lie entirely in saving humans, it laid in proving your husband wrong, in showing him you were an asset, never a burden.
You wanted to stand by his side and take on missions together - like how it was always meant to be. Tengen and you, against the world.
“Welcome home, dear student.” Kyojuro’s greeting warmed you to the marrow of your bones. 
“I’m home, master.” You grinned at him, and limped over to give him a hug, neither of you minding the dirt and stink of the road. 
“Congratulations on becoming a slayer. I’m proud of you.” 
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By the time your husband and wives were on their way back from Butterfly mansion, you had already stopped limping. You didn't stop training your Breathing in the meantime, trying to achieve using it non-stop as you waited for the arrival of your Nichirin sword.
The house was clean, snacks were prepared, and you found yourself sitting on the porch. Your stomach was full of butterflies, excited as you were to see Tengen again, though you were also a little nervous - you hoped Suma, Makio and Hinatsuru would grow to like you and for that, you needed to give a good impression.
You wore the silk yukata with a turtle shell pattern, an earthy green obi tying it together. You hoped you were flashy enough for everyone, though Tengen gave you the yukata so it must be flashy enough… Maybe you should have changed into something more colorful. 
Tengen’s laughter echoed down the road.
Fuck. It’s too late to change. Is my hair messy? Gods, I should have checked-
The gate opened and you shot to your feet, straightening out your yukata in a panic.
Wine red eyes- no, wine red eye stared back at you, an eyepatch covering the other one. Your breath was nearly knocked out of you as you took in your husband. You knew he’d lost his eye and his left hand but reading about it in a letter and seeing it in person were two entirely different things.
You couldn’t stop your legs as you nearly ran to him, jumping into his arms, clutching onto him tightly as tears fell and stained his yukata. You had thought about what you wanted to tell him once he came home, but now that he was here - your mind became blank. You couldn’t think of anything to say, not when he was there, his scent and warmth filling you up in a way air and food couldn’t.
Seconds turned to minutes, minutes seemed like hours.
At last, you said, “Welcome home,” in a choked whisper as you calmed yourself a little.
“I’m home.” His voice was near silent; if you hadn’t been so close to him, you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.
What a way to greet him after such a mission- Oh! You completely forgot about the wives!
You slowly pulled back, face feeling hot with shame when you took a step back, quickly wiping away your tears.
You bowed a little. “It’s nice to meet you again. I’m Uzui [Name]... your wife.” Your face was flushed and your hands trembled. “I hope we can get along.”
Suma was the first one to break; she nearly pounced on you, hugging you and swinging you around in a circle. You marveled at her strength as you held on for your life, laughing in delight. 
A deft hand flew over your head and hit Suma, who nearly immediately dropped you - the momentum making you stumble back into a warm pair of arms and a very soft chest. It was Hinatsuru who caught you. “Are you alright?”
You regained your bearing, pulling away. “Yes, thank you. Are they-” 
Makio was yelling at Suma, who was clinging to Tengen with crocodile tears streaming down her face. 
“Uhm, is this the Uzui residence?”
Like moths to a flame, all of you looked to the still-open gate, where a kakushi stood. They had a - your heart skipped a beat - covered katana on their back. 
You walked forward, smiling. “Yes, it is, kakushi-san.” You felt light, happy. Your Nichirin sword was finally here.
They bowed to you. “Uzui [Name], I presume?” They took the case off their back and presented it to you. 
Your hands shook a little when you slid the cloth off of the sword. The scabbard was black, the grip a burnt orange, the guard in the shape of a flame, reminiscent of the one Kyojuro used to have. Your smile widened, cheeks near burning from the stretch; he must have told his artisan to make it for you. 
It seemed the world held its breath for you as you drew the blade.
An ordinary steel greeted you before color bled into it, as if it were your blood fueling it. 
A dark gold reflected the rays of the sun before it hid behind a cloud. 
Your wives spewed congratulations after congratulations as you stared at your sword with joy. You felt as if you could soar. You laughed in delight as you sheathed the blade, hugging the kakushi, who blushed deeply underneath their mask, and then each of your wives. Happiness flowed in your veins, as golden as the sun, the flames, and the katana.
You Breathed fire. You were beautiful. You were powerful. You felt on top of the world, a goddess sent down to smite the evils of this world.
All this thanks to a single dark gold blade, your very own Nichirin sword.
Tengen could only stare at the scene in front of him, dazed.
He’d left you at home in hopes of saving you, of protecting you from danger he faced every day he went to hunt demons. The katana in your hand indicated he failed, and oh how miserably did he fail.
Did you do this to punish him? Is this your revenge? Retribution for the atrocity of taking more wives? 
Nothing but a burden.
Did you truly believe his words - the ones he so stupidly uttered in a moment of madness in that sick room? He didn’t mean them, he never meant them. He knew you were more than useful, you were an asset in every way and form imaginable. Tengen was just scared, so fucking scared of losing you - especially losing you under his watch when he’d just gotten you back. 
Fuck.
Did you… consider him unworthy of protecting you? Is that why you sought to become a slayer? To get your own blade and stand apart from him?
Was it a declaration of war on him?
Thousand men may die if so. He never, never meant for this to happen.
And Tengen would find no peace until he got to the bottom of this.
Raindrops fell one by one, creating a harmony of nature. A contrast to the whirlwind of emotions in his heart.
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The light drizzle of the afternoon evolved into a lightning storm by the time the sun hid behind the mountains. You were glad there was no tree close enough to attract the lightning or to fall on the Uzui house, or you were sure there would be a big problem on your hands.
The tea room you sat in had been unused for months, clearly, as you had to wipe off some dust off the low table before you could use it. The pillows were clean, which was a blessing. It wouldn’t be able to dry out in this weather.
Though the furniture was traditional, the decorations were not. A few western pieces hung on the walls and there was a small statue in the corner of a naked angel reaching out to the heavens. One painting in particular caught your eye. It was a woman sprawled on her belly over a chaise, book in hand and kicking her feet in the air, clearly enjoying herself. If you squinted, the woman resembled you, a little.
But that wasn’t right.
If you were a painting, you’d be damaged, torn open, paint cracked, and your price would be pain - a price no one wanted to pay.
The door slid open.
All three wives stood there, and Hinatsuru spoke first. “May we come in?” She gave you a small smile, reassuring. You nodded.
Suma squealed and skipped over to the low table, quickly sitting down on one of the cushions; Makio carefully balanced a tray with teapot and four cups, Hinatsuru closing the door after her.
“I heard Tengen left to sleep over at Kyojuro-san’s. Is that right?” you asked, watching them  all sit with you as Makio poured you a cup. The fragrance was slightly bitter, but you could easily identify it as mugicha, a barley tea meant to calm the mind. 
You could guess why they came to you.
“That’s right. We’ve got a Girls’ Night today!” Suma grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat. 
Makio gave her shoulder a light slap, “Shut up, let Hina speak, you idiot.”
“Hina~ Did you see? Did you see Makio slap me?” crocodile tears filled her eyes. 
Hinatsuru shot them both a look, making both of them quiet down. She turned to you. “[Name], we’ve talked to Tengen-sama earlier,” she started. Your hand clenched around your cup of tea as your chest grew tighter. “We all know the feeling of looking in the mirror and not being happy with the body we see there. We just want to show you that you aren’t alone, and that in this household, there is no judgment. This household includes you as well.” 
You stared at her in silence, in disbelief. You never thought they would be so bold as to approach you about this scarcely few hours after getting home, but on the other hand, it made sense. Tengen’s type wasn’t a shy maiden, even if it held a sort of appeal of its own.
A rustle of clothes caught your attention. Suma turned her back to you and loosened her obi. The short yukata fell to her hips, baring her back to you; there was nothing- until she used her hands to lift her hair. You drew a sharp breath.
An ugly jagged scar stretched from the top of her back up til it disappeared in her hairline. 
“This is a pretty embarrassing story actually. Nothing grand at all,” she told you. “I was about sixteen and a spider startled me while training. I fell from a tree - a branch whacked me there, and since then, I have this ugly thing.” She let her hair fall down and sat properly again, a half-smile on her face; it didn’t look right to see her expression so grim and sad. There was a strange instinct to try to cheer her up, yet you remained silent, a lump forming in your throat.
Makio was next, untying her own belt as she knelt, letting her dress pool at her knees. Raised scar imitating torn flesh extended from her bellybutton to her hip, only partially hidden by her fundoshi. You wanted to avert your eyes but couldn’t. “This is only two years old. I was diving in the river with the girls when a current threw me on a bunch of rocks. Long story short, they were pretty sharp.” 
She was so nonchalant about such a huge blemish on her smooth skin - it made you feel something, something sharp and unwieldy was lodged in your chest, throat, heart. Your hands trembled as you knocked back the tea and set the cup down quickly, lest you let it slip from your fingers.
You were being pulled apart at the seams, exposed despite wearing the most concealing yukata of you four.
Lastly, Hinatsuru stripped off her own yukata. A scar, unlike the others’, placed very deliberately over her areola. You choked on air, near hysterics.
Warm hands and warmer eyes reached out to you, grounding you as you keened. Because you knew the origin. You were there. You were there on the Mission.
You heaved a dry sob. There was only one thing you wanted to do.
You raised your fingers to your lips, kissing them, and then- the fingertips traced the ragged flesh softly, tracing it with a feather-light touch. 
Perhaps you were overstepping, but you wanted to, needed to apologize, to show her intimately how beautiful you found her despite what had happened.
“You are stunning,” you whispered breathlessly, making her own breath hitch. You blinked back tears. “All of you are stunning.”
Suma shuffled closer. “And so are you, [Name].”
Your hand fell away. Perhaps it was foolishness, or bravery, that made you pull your curtain apart, baring your own skin to them. 
There were no gasps, no horrified whispers.
Just four women, nearly naked as the day you were all born, sharing their humiliation.
…was it humiliation? Or was it strength to survive despite all the hardships? 
"Our point is, each of us have some scars we are ashamed of. Do you think lesser of us for having them?"
You didn't even have to think about the answer. "No."
They smiled. And you realized that you would find only acceptance here, in their soft and tender arms.
Hinatsuru took your non-dominant hand in hers. "Some scars are silly, some scars come from gruesome experiences - but they make us who we are. They are part of us."
Suma took your other hand in hers, squeezing it briefly and lifting it to her lips. Oh so gently, she bestowed kisses on each fingertip, lingering on the scar from the knife tip that caused your abdominal scar.
In that moment, you did not see women - your wives - you saw deities, blessing you with their attention and love. They were willing to carry all your trauma together, to share the burden despite knowing you only for a short time. You had no words, except-
"I'm yours," you whispered, warmth filling your chest cavity, your body feeding on the intimacy, the closeness, the feeling of belonging. "And you're mine."
"You're ours, and we are yours."
If you were a painting, you’d be held together only by the frame - at least, that was how it used to be. Now, with three new wives to support you, you were slowly being put back together, healing at last.
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"So… we match now, don't we?" Kyojuro said with a bright smile on his face. 
It was the day after Tengen came home, but he couldn’t wait. Despite what he told his wives, he spent the night in an inn, marinating in the wrath he felt, in the hurt and the frustration.
Madness stewed in his stomach, threatening to be regurgitated at any moment. Tengen pushed down his feelings for the moment when he heard steps approaching. “Yes, we do match. Including the retirement and all the free time that comes with it.” 
"I see. Well, you have your hands- hand full of your wives. I'm positive you will figure something out!" 
A demure voice called out, "Excuse me." A red-haired woman came closer, kneeling behind the men sitting on the engawa and setting down her tray. There was tea for each of the men and a huge plate of steamed bread buns. "I thought you might be a little hungry so I…" she trailed off. Quickly getting up, she all but ran away from them.
"Thank you, dear!" Kyojuro shouted at her retreating back, laughing a little. "That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-"
Tengen wasn't in the mood to talk about his friend's nurse. He was here for business after all. “When did you intend to tell me you made my wife a demon slayer?”
Kyojuro paused, nearly mid-bite into a bun. Deciding to finish taking the bite before speaking, he quickly chewed and swallowed. "Delicious! Hmm, well, I didn't make her a slayer. She became one herself." He took another bite, finishing his first bun happily. "Delicious!"
“Cut that out, Kyojuro. She wouldn’t have become one if someone didn’t teach her Breathing. I know it was you, don’t deny it,” Tengen said between clenched teeth, rage very poorly hidden. Behind all the rage was worry, and fear, for her - yet all he could do was spew poison at his best friend.
“Maybe if you’d listened to her back then, you could have prevented me making her a slayer, in your words,” Kyojuro blew at his tea to cool it down a little. “Besides, [Name] is her own person and she can do as she likes. She wanted to be a slayer, she came to me for help, and I would be a bad best friend if I let your wife go into the Final Selection unprepared.”
Tengen hissed like an angry cat, “She could have gone to me.” 
His friend leveled him with a flat look, so unlike his usual sunny disposition. “The last time she saw you before you left, you called her a burden. Imagine how that must have felt. If I were her, I’d be already divorcing you. Really, she deserves better.”
Better. Better. Better.
The word echoed in his mind. She did deserve better; she deserved someone who would support her no matter what, who wouldn’t go behind her back and marry three other women- 
His brain circled around those thoughts almost constantly since she came back from that gods-forsaken Mission. What did she see in him that made her stay? Why did she decide to try - to accept their other wives in the polycule?  
More importantly, Tengen knew she was antsy, that she needed an outlet long before he left for the red district. Getting back in the field - into the fighting, and the blood, and the hurt - was one thing he also knew he could not support. He’d just gotten her back, and he was supposed to be fine with losing her again? 
No.
The answer was no. 
He would have never approved of her joining the corps. He was a bad husband. [Name] deserved someone like-
Kyojuro sipped on his tea, looking over the peaceful garden.
-someone like Kyojuro.
“How often has she come to you while I was gone?” Tengen blurted out before he could stop himself.
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Your first mission as a demon slayer was very uneventful, the demon being weak and easily tracked down, even despite your inexperience. However, there was a Kakushi that had gotten hurt - completely unrelated to the demon, they stepped into a small hole in the ground and rolled their ankle - so you were carrying them to the Butterfly mansion, which was the closest, or so the Kakushi told you. And they were right.
Once you’d laid the Kakushi down on one of the sickbeds further inside the mansion, where they kept the less severe cases, you didn’t want to walk back through the intensive care wing - especially since it was past midnight. You took a detour through the gardens, where you saw a red-headed young man sit on the engawa.
You looked him over, the bandages standing out against his sun-kissed skin. You knew immediately who it was. “Thank you for being there for my husband, young Kamado,” you said, breaking the silence of the night as you approached him. Kyojuro had told you Kamado Tanjiro had a very good nose; he’d probably been able to smell you long before you came close to him. “It must not have been easy - fighting an Upper Moon.”
Tanjiro looked at you, tilting his head. “Husband? Uzui Tengen has… four wives?” To his credit, he didn’t look as surprised to hear the Sound pillar had one more wife hidden away though perhaps his expression was closer to disappointment.
“It should have been me,” you confessed. “In the entertainment district - it’s what I’ve been trained for, what I was born for, made for.” The bitterness in your voice seeped through.
He gave you a tired smile, “Uzui-san, it couldn’t be helped.”
“I would have helped… He didn’t want me to.” You didn’t know why you wanted to pour your heart out to the boy. There was something about him, something that reminded you of Kyojuro, of safety and home. “I would have been just a burden.” 
Tanjiro’s eyes softened, his expression sad, sympathetic to your plight. Yet he could say nothing, he only offered you an ear to listen, to take off your burden at his feet and go on with your life. He reached for your hand, giving it a squeeze.
“I spent the time trying to become an asset instead.” Sleepless nights of the week pre-Final Selection came to your mind. You did your best to stop being a burden, and you achieved that; you had your dark gold sword, your Kasugai crow, and your duty. 
“I think…” he started uncertain, “You’re a warrior - were one even before you became a slayer, weren’t you? So you have never been a burden, nor a liability. Whoever made you think this way is wrong, Uzui-san.”
His words brought a slight smile to your face. “You’re too kind, young Kamado.”
Despite the reassurance, dark thoughts swirled in your mind. Still, Tengen’s opinion was branded into your mind, into your heart, your body set on fire and burning you alive with the same ache that had pulsed through your veins in the rhythm of your heartbeat when you came back. 
Tengen’s opinion hurt you as deeply as his betrayal had.
And it was hard to let go of it.
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You were helping Makio with the dishes after dinner when Tengen finally came out with what’s been bothering him.
“Why did you decide to become a demon slayer?” his tone was a barely-restrained typhoon of emotions. 
You looked Makio in the eyes, and she understood immediately, drying off her hands on a rag and leaving the kitchen swiftly.
You both knew it was going to be a nasty fight. 
“Don’t be mad, okay?” You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his jaw gently, since that was all you could reach. Tengen had an unreadable expression on his face for a second before he practically dove in for a deep deep kiss, the force of his urgency making you lose your balance and you lost your balance, his body caging you against the counter.
As swift as a summer rain, the passion turned into anger. He tore himself away from you.
“Why the fuck are you doing this? Are you still hung up on the whole-!” Tengen gestured vaguely in a sharp movement.
You blinked a few times, refocusing on him.
But he didn’t let you answer. “Is this your revenge?” he growled, standing so close he cast shadow over you.
You huffed. “This is no revenge, Tengen. I just-”
“You just what? Your husband left on a life-threatening mission and you go dilly-dallying with his fucking best friend?”
“What? Are you being serious right now?” you could only gape at him, shock freezing you in place. “What the hell are you implying?”
Tengen grit his teeth. “What do you think? A lonely wife, soon to be a widow, in need of a husband. Oh look! There is one right here!”
You chuckled without humor, yet you found the situation wholly hilarious nonetheless. “Tengen, he has a girlfriend.”
“He what?”
“I thought you are his best buddy. Kyojuro’s nurse, Amiya? She’s his girlfriend. I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”
Like a bucket of ice cold water over a fire, his anger was put out and he remembered.
That was my nurse, Amiya. She's a little shy but really nice to talk to. She’s actually-
You took a deep breath before giggling again, a little deranged.
Tengen took a step back. “I didn’t- I didn’t know.”
A mad laughter echoed in the room, and it surprised you to hear it was yours. “Really? You come back from a mission and you find your lonely wife, a would-be widow, found out about the joy of having a friend after years and years - and you what? Accuse her of cheating the first thing? Wow, you’re so fucking smart, aren’t you?” 
“[Name], I-” 
“No.” You Breathed, pushing him back and surprising him with your strength. “I never did that to you. Get yourself in the mirror and fucking look. Gods know there are many in our home.”
“Alright, I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have accused you of that,” Tengen took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I really am…”
“Yes, you better apologize. And you better apologize for one other thing, Lord Tengen,” you seethed. All the anger, the hurt and the pain bubbled together in a nasty concoction of negativity, a poison you intended to make him eat every drop of. 
Because he made you eat his.
“I- Precious, calm down-” He backed away a little seeing your darkening expression, “Okay, honey, don’t be calm.”
“That’s right. You don’t get to tell me what to do. I’m my own person, with ambitions and feelings - feelings, might I add, that you hurt with your loathsome comment-”
Nothing but a burden.
“- but really, I should thank you. I actually found something I can put my energy to now that I’m no longer a kunoichi,” your voice softened as you looked away. You didn’t want to let all be unforgiven, you just wanted to fix it, to embrace Tengen and be embraced by him - flaws, scars, and all.
The kitchen suddenly felt cold, you felt cold - as if you could never warm up enough. You were frozen to the marrow of your bones, and the chasm between the two of you seemed so dark and wide. You were an island in the middle of a sea.
But then he stepped closer. 
“Can I touch you?” his voice shook slightly. 
Your eyes met. 
You nodded. He reached out with both arms, his hand taking yours and pulling you closer, into a tight hug, his stump crushing you to his chest. “I’m sorry, precious... I kept thinking I could lose you, that I would lose you again so soon after I got you back. I didn’t want that, I wanted to keep you safe.” His breath hitched as he laid his cheek on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. 
“That doesn’t excuse your words.”
Tengen’s heart ached, your voice so small and wounded. “It doesn’t, and I swear I will do my best to make it up to you - for the rest of my life, every day. I swear on my existence that I will cherish you every day, from sunrise to sunset and from sunset to sunrise. You are my one and only, my precious.”
The reverent promises warmed your cold bones, bringing life back to where there was none. 
You’d long decided to stand by Tengen no matter what. You would forgive him. 
After a punishment.
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The master bedroom was a work of art - especially for a polycule. Nearly all of it was a raised platform covered by one gigantic futon that could host ten or more people, with about a meter and a half from the walls on three sides as a walk-around. Perfect for what you had in mind.
“Ladies, take it easy-” he choked out. It was too much at once - Hinatsuru cupping his jaw and leaving hickeys, you giving attention to his nipples, sucking and biting them, and Makio at his cock, lapping at his flushed tip. Where was-?
He tried to reach out to push his wives away but felt a tug instead, his arms immobile behind his back. 
“Sum-aaahn~ Fuck!” Makio sucked him into her warm mouth, distracting him from Suma, who was skillfully weaving ropes around his arms; she was, after all, the best at shibari out of all his wives. Their plan slowly sank into his mind. It was hot, and he didn’t want it to stop.
Your nails trailed over his abdomen, Makio cupped his balls as she took more and more of him down her throat, and Hinatsuru practically devoured him with a deep kiss, taking his breath away. His mind went blank.
“Done!”
At the signal, all of his wives took a step back, leaving him panting and aching for more. His face was flushed and his eyes a little hazy. “Wha-?”
Makio grinned, wiping a little bit of drool from her face. “Did you really think this night is about you?” she tutted.
“Exactly, Tengen-sama. You’ve had our wife all to yourself for weeks. It’s our turn,” added Hinatsuru, turning to you. “As long as the First wife approves.” 
You smiled shyly, face hot, yet turned on. It was all a show, just for Tengen. Hinatsuru had already asked you in private if you’d consider a night like that, since the three felt the need to punish him for his transgressions as well. If he already wasn’t regretting crossing his women, he would be after tonight.
“What are we waiting for?” Suma skipped over to you, grabbing you by the yukata and kissing you deeply. You squeaked in surprise at her forwardnes but kissed her back. She tasted sweet, like mochi - you now knew for certain she ate it despite being told not to. 
The mochi was quickly forgotten when you felt your obi loosen. Suma’s hands went into your hair as she kept you occupied. Deft fingers pushed your yukata off your shoulders, another pair of hands going up to cup and play with your breasts.
“Girls, come on… I’m here, why don’t you use me for your pleasures?” Tengen’s voice was faint to you, as was Makio’s response, your head underwater despite breathing fine.
The hands at your breasts disappeared, leaving you cold, your nipples hard from arousal and the change in temperature both. Suma pushed you backwards, until your calves met the raised platform bed. She finally pulled back, someone - Hinatsuru - gently making you sit, then lay on the mattress. 
“You look so cute when you’re all flustered… Your eyes are so lost,” she leaned over you and kissed your lips softly. You chased after her for more, but she only giggled. “It makes me want to ruin you~” She smirked. “In a good way, of course.”
Tengen could only stare in mute shock at what was unfolding in front of him. All his wives turned on him, tied him up, and ignored him, seeking pleasure from each other instead of using him as their play toy. The truth of the situation slowly sank into his mind as he watched Makio replace Hinatsuru in teasing you, and Suma help Hinatsuru into a strap-on harness - a strap-on that was an exact copy of his own cock! They could just use him!
“Girls… I’m right here~ My hands are a bit tied though…” Tengen nearly whined, trying to make eye contact with any of them, only for all four women to be focusing on each other instead of him.
“Sweetie, would you mind…?” 
You looked up to see Hinatsuru with a big strap-on, waving it in your face. You opened your mouth and started to give it sloppy kisses, getting it all wet with your saliva, as you looked up into her eyes. She was smiling down at you, petting your hair gently.
There was a brief conversation behind you but you could only focus on her as she guided you down the cock, making you gag slightly. Hinatsuru pulled back and let you go at your own pace, telling you how good you were for her and how lovely you look taking the strap down your throat.
“Mhm, I think it’s wet enough, isn’t it?” She cupped your jaw and slowly slid you off of it, a string of saliva connecting your lips and the tip of it before it snapped. “Makio, come here.”
Gentle hands hugged you from the back, open-mouthed kisses worshiping your shoulders as Suma moved you back a bit to make place for your other wife.
“Mommy is going to make you feel good,” Hinatsuru cooed at Makio, turning her around and pushing her to her hands and knees. “Present for me, babygirl.”
Makio arched her back, balancing on her forearm to spread her already-soaked pussy, the sight making Hinatsuru blush in delight. She took the strap by the base and teased her wife by going up and down between her pussy lips. Makio whimpered and tried to push herself back on it, very nearly succeeding, when Hinatsuru spanked her ass lightly.
“Be good for me, okay?” Nevertheless, she pushed the strap inside agonizingly slowly, Makio moaning at the feeling. She used both hands to support herself now that the cock was in. “You can only cum if you make [Name] cum, babygirl. Sound fair?”
Makio smirked, though it lacked the usual sass, each slow thrust taking more of her brattiness away. “Yes, mommy~” 
Suma pushed you down to lay in front of Makio, spreading your legs with soothing strokes on your thighs. “Let her make you feel good~” She positioned you to half-lay on her lap, one of her hands coming up to caress your breasts and play with your nipples gently.
Hinatsuru thrust in roughly exactly once, and it was to push Makio’s head in between your thighs, forcing her to start pleasuring you. She licked at your clit with just the tip of her tongue, drawing circles and infinity symbols; the long-forgotten feeling of someone going down on you ignited a blaze inside your belly, making you gasp and clutch onto the bedding. 
Suma took hold of your wrist and placed your hand on Makio’s head, whispering lowly, “She likes it when you pull her hair~” Hearing that, you tugged at her hair a little, her moans only adding to your pleasure, the vibrations feeling heavenly.
“F-fuck-” you breathed out shakily, wanting to pull away yet push her head closer to you, already overwhelmed. 
Makio dove in, sucking at your puffy clit gently, laving it with the attention it deserved. She made her way down, grazing the tip along your slit as she continued to make little sounds from Hinatsuru fucking her. Flattening her tongue, she hungrily ate you, a woman on a mission.
Hinatsuru looked up from the lewd display in front of her to look at her husband. Tengen was mesmerized, staring at all of them, before he caught her gaze. She caressed Makio’s asscheeks before delivering a sharp smack, earning her a loud moan from Makio, and subsequently another from you. His face flushed a deep red, lips pressed together in frustration. All the while, Hinatsuru kept eye contact with him, a smug smile stretching her perfect lips.
You tensed, crying out and thrashing in Suma’s embrace, hand harshly gripping at Makio’s hair as you rode wave after wave of pleasure. 
“Shhh, you look so lovely when you cum, don’t you, princess?” Suma whispered in your ear, hot air caressing your sensitive spot as you shivered. “Did you see how good Makio ate you out? Isn’t she pretty when her mouth is occupied and not sprouting nonsense?”
You could scarcely choke out a word, quickly tipping into overstimulation. Hinatsuru, bless her, noticed and roughly pulled Makio back on her strap, pulling her face out of your pussy as she whined and moaned.
Suma rubbed your thighs in comfort; you just tried to catch your breath, coming down to Earth from the Heavens you were in.
“Are you with me? Ready for your lesson, princess?” 
“L-lesson?” you tried to get your bearing, while Suma turned you around gently, shuffling back a little, her cunt nearly in your face. 
“Why, of course~” She grinned. “You need to learn how to eat out a pussy. Did you pay attention to Makio? If not, that’s fine. Come, I’ll be your teacher today~”
You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, saliva pooling in your mouth as you processed what she wanted you to do. You wanted to try, wanted to taste her, wanted to find out how to please her and how to perform your wifely duties to her. The curiosity of the entire act burned inside of you.
You laid on your belly, your lips just inches from the well of ambrosia awaiting you. You give a first tentative lick, the tip of your tongue swirling around Suma’s clit, making her sigh out in pleasure.
“That’s good, princess.” Whispered praises left her lips, instructing you how exactly she liked it, where to lick, where to suck, when to slow down and speed up. Gentle fingers threaded through your hair, reassuring you and grounding you.
You alternated between her sweetness and her puffy nub as she guided you through your first oral, the taste so addicting to you and the praises intoxicating. Her moans only made you wetter, made you anticipate what’s coming next in the night as you enjoyed Suma’s depths for all she gave. Her thighs quivered around your head, the sounds of ecstasy resonating in your ears when her legs didn’t squeeze you involuntarily.
Your face was flushed, you could hardly breathe; you ate and ate until she was screaming and creaming around your tongue, hot pussy juices flooding your mouth. 
“You did so well for me, haaah- princess,” Suma caressed you, easing you off of her with a shaky hand. “How was it?”
You licked your lips and looked up at her shyly. “I liked it very much.” The admission earned you a smile and a deep kiss, before Makio patted both your shoulders. Her thighs shook a little as she winked and then tilted her head in the direction of your husband.
You all shared a secret grin, turning to him at once.
"Heh, I knew you would want my cock eventually," Tengen smirked. You gave him an unimpressed stare.
Makio circled him and bent forward to hug him from the back, whispering in his ear seductively. "Worry not, pretty boy. Once we've used you as we want, you're being put back on the shelf. You see," she grinned evilly, "we don't need you to get our pleasure." Her arms tightened around him, a silent warning to not move.
Hinatsuru laid in front of Tengen, her legs spread on each side of his thighs as if she were offering herself to him. She patted your thigh to draw your attention. "Sweetie, paint me with his cum. I want it all over me~"
The nickname made your cheeks heat up. You nodded enthusiastically and shuffled closer to Tengen.
His lone eye was lidded, face flushed and lips parted as he looked on in anticipation of what was coming. His cock twitched right before your palm met his flesh, the spongy tip an angry red and weeping precum. You held it steady and opened your mouth, letting your saliva drip down on it, using it as lubricant along with his precum to stroke him. Tengen let out a breathy “Fuuuhk-” when you started a steady pace, putting both of your hands to use. You swept your thumb over the mushroom head with each pass, paying attention to what he liked. It was your goal to make him finish, after all.
“Come on, be our good boy and cum quick~ We need your cum~” Makio whispered into his ear in a sultry voice. Tengen whimpered.
Your hands were firm around his cock, unrelenting as you worked him towards his release; the weight of him in your hands was familiar yet new at the same time. His balls hung heavy and you cupped them with one of your hands, fingers deftly massaging him for the sweet treat inside.
Tengen cursed like a sailor, first spurt of semen shooting out with enough force to land near Hinatsuru’s neck. You didn’t stop, trying to squeeze the most you could out of him as he painted a masterpiece on his wife.
"Good job. Now you sit here nice and pretty for us. Such a good decoration to our pleasure, hmm?"
You, Makio and Suma all descended upon Hinatsuru with the hunger of starving hyenas. Licking at her cum-stained skin, you cleaned every beautiful inch of her as she closed her eyes, enjoying every second of it. 
Tengen could only stare again, humiliated for the n-th time that evening. Yet again he was forced to sit and watch his wives go at it, barely giving him a taste of the pleasures they gifted each other so lovingly, using him as a source of cum to continue the hedonistic display in front of him. He felt shamed, and unbelievably turned on.
Makio’s head bumped into yours by accident, prompting you both to look up. Your eyes met, an animalistic impulse taking over as you locked your lips together, Tengen’s cum shining like lip gloss on both of your lips. So engrossed in each other, you forgot all about the audience you had, everything a blur as your tongues danced.
“Time to fuck that attitude out of you, brat.” 
Makio’s head was yanked from you, a string of saliva stretching and snapping between the two of you as Suma tugged her back by her hair. Makio was forced to support herself with her hands on Tengen’s thighs, making him blush deeply at the sight. A sharp smack echoed in the room.
Warm hands coiling around your torso distracted you from your stolen lover. Palms with small calluses ran over your breasts, the rough parts catching on your nipples as you were pulled away and down to lay your head on a pillow. Hinatsuru laid beside you, foreheads touching, air shared between you.
“Do you want to learn how to make me feel good?” she whispered, eyes searching yours for any hesitancy. 
You had none though. “Yes, please… Mommy.” Your face felt hot at the nickname you called her, but Hinatsuru only smiled gently, cupping your face.
“Of course, sweetie.” Her fingertips trailed down your throat, your chest, belly, making you shiver and goosebumps spread over your skin at her feather-light touch. At last, her hand stroked your thigh, raising it a little to allow her access to your most intimate place, two fingers delving between your pussy lips. You drew a shaky breath.
“Close your eyes,” Hinatsuru whispered to your ear. “Feel my fingers, focus on how I do it…” You gasped as her thumb circled your puffy clit oh so gently. “Copy what I do to you, hmm? Can you do that for me, sweetie?” Her motions slowed down, waiting for you to start doing as she ordered.
Your hand hesitantly trailed down her side to the apex of her thighs, dipping down to her entrance to wet your fingers before you began copying her. Her shaky moan signaled you were doing it somewhat right. 
“Feel me?”
You hummed breathlessly, leaning against her neck, panting slightly. You weren’t ready for the pleasure her digits brought but you tried to focus on copying her movements. Each flick, circle and thrust was met blow-for-blow on her own pussy. You bit your lip as you felt her huffing into your hair.
“You’re doing so well, sweetie. Just relax and enjoy it, hmm?” 
You could hardly relax when she brought you pleasure so expertly - each circle on your clit winding the knot inside tighter and tighter, making you see stars even before your release.
“Let go for me, babygirl.”
You cried out, losing control over your fingers as you shattered on Hinatsuru’s. Tears gathered at your lash line while she shushed you, still stimulating you gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure as they crashed upon you.  
“So adorable. You sound so cute when you cum, sweetie.” She took hold of your hand and ground down on you. “Now, be a good girl and let mommy use you- ah!” 
Hinatsuru didn’t bother to muffle her moans, chasing her own la petite mort. You watched in awe when she came, her pussy walls squeezing your fingers, more slick coming out of her. Her whole body trembled and she no longer had to control you as you made sure to gently bring her down to Earth, steering clear of her clit to not overstimulate her.
A lewd sound accompanied you taking your fingers away from her. You looked at them, all sopping wet with her essence; before you could stop yourself, you were licking it all up. Hinatsuru giggled a little and cuddled close to you once you were done, giving you a sweet kiss on your lips.
Makio’s face was right in Tengen’s, each snap of Suma’s hips driving her closer to her orgasm, her breasts swaying back and forth, her nails digging into his thighs painfully. He could not look away; he ached with need, his weeping cock begging for attention, tears nearly filling his eyes from the frustration. Just behind Makio and Suma were Hina and you, coming down from your respective highs, cuddling and not paying attention to him at all.
Why? He was right there! Why didn't you or Hina or any of them give him any relief? He truly felt he didn’t deserve this…
Makio went taunt suddenly, her eyes rolling back and her arms losing their strength, nearly falling into his lap. Suma laughed breathlessly at that and slowly pulled the strap out of Makio’s pussy, the fake dick bouncing a little. With a few tugs on the harness, she was free of it, a few indents showing on her thighs from how tightly she tied the straps.
Extra appendage discarded, it was time to untie Tengen, who’d fallen uncharacteristically silent.
Makio was crawling to the cuddling duo, completely spent, when the last knots fell loose. 
Tengen Breathed.
Suma was on her back before she knew what was going on, her legs spread wide open. “Eh?” was all she could say when her husband’s large form caged her in, the tip of his rock hard cock already at her entrance. Her yelp alerted the other wives that something was wrong, but Tengen was beyond the point of caring. He thrust inside with one smooth move, groaning loudly like a cheap whore, immediately setting a punishing pace on his Second wife.
All other sounds fell away other than the lewd wet smacks of skin-on-skin. Suma’s face became flushed very quickly, clawing at his shoulders while he rendered her guts to pieces with his harshness. A beautiful mix of pleasure and pain. 
He brought his hand down to her clit, circling it the exact way she loved. Tears filled her eyes as her release approached rapidly. Tengen had still not said a thing. He was just staring at her, groaning softly, sweat making his hair stick to his neck and face, which was set in a beautifully pussy-drunk expression. 
She was lost, her back arching as she clung to him. The fluttering of her pussy made him let out sounds reminiscent of a dying man and still deep inside her, painting her walls white. Tengen pulled out slowly, still hard, throbbing and far from done. He did nothing to stop his cum from leaking out, turning to the rest of his wives.
Makio was already dozing off, despite the commotion, so that eased his burden so to speak. Tengen shuffled closer in a few quick motions, grabbing Hinatsuru’s ankle and yanking her to him, her noise of surprise drowned by his feral growl.
She laid on her stomach, so Tengen just straddled her thighs and spread her asscheeks open, pushing inside her wet pussy roughly. Hinatsuru angled her hips to take him in deeper, fucking herself back on him and moaning at the feeling of his cock rubbing against all the right spots. "T-Tengen, slow down!"
You could only stare wide-eyed as your husband railed Hinatsuru like a beast, his stump resting on the small of her back, arching her up even more, and his hand clutching the back of her neck. You glanced at Makio on your side, long since passed out, and then Suma, who was dozing with cum oozing out of her.
You weren’t scared of Tengen, per se, but this was new. You had never seen him go crazy like this. It made you gush with wetness at the display, your fingers reaching down to play with yourself.
His furious pace with Hinatsuru slowed down, though not any less powerful. He leaned over her, his whole body covering hers as he put his weight on his forearms, grinding into her with each roll of his hips, her eyes crossing a little, mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure. Tengen started to whisper in her ear; you could not hear what he said, but Hinatsuru’s eyes met yours, conveying a silent message you could not understand. Was it pity or something else entirely?
Smack.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Tengen spanked her, grinning widely, staring down at her. “Say my name,” he commanded her in a gravelly voice.
Hinatsuru desperately clutched the bedding - trying to remain in place or fuck herself back on him, you didn’t know - as she stuttered out a weak “T-Ten-gen-!”
“Louder!” 
“T-Tengen!”
A quick rhythm of pap pap pap echoed in the room, you couldn’t look away, you could scarcely breathe. And then, Hinatsuru could scarcely breathe, when he wound his left arm around her neck, using the thick muscles to keep her in place while he had his fun.
Her face was red, mouth falling open in an ��o’.
“Oh fuck- I’m cumming-” he choked out hugging Hinatsuru close, burying his face in her neck and groaning as if he were dying, letting up the pressure on her neck. She just whimpered meekly, grinding back against him, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his in an intimate touch. 
You suddenly felt like a voyeur. You wiped your wetness on your thigh, quickly pulling a loose blanket over yourself, embarrassed. 
There was a loud squelch and another whimper from Hinatsuru.
You chanced a look, your eyes widening.
It was clear Tengen’s mania did not pass yet, his cock still hard and twitching. “What, did you think I’d forget my dearest wife?” He loomed over you, his huge body casting a shadow, like a predator about to devour his prey. “Whether you're ready or not, here I come, precious…”
You felt like the temperature of the room rose a few degrees, watching him come closer to you, length bouncing, covered in slick and cum. You thought he must be pretty overstimulated, it should be easy to last…
How wrong you were.
Like an animal let out of his cage, he pounced. The last two creampies only took the edge off; your fellow wives were dozing off quietly while you were about to get ravaged. 
Tengen practically tore the blanket from your body, leaning closer and blocking your escape, his forearms framing your head. “Why are you hiding from me, precious? Are you scared?”
You trembled from a mix of arousal and anticipation. 
His wine red eye searched both of yours intently, waiting for your response. When you said nothing, he whispered, “Remember our safe word?”
Jade, or three taps on any part of his body with your fingers.
You nodded.
“You can still use it at any time,” he murmured. “Say it, or use our non-verbal signal, and I’m going to stop. Do you understand?” 
You nodded again, making him sigh in relief.
Then, Tengen grinned, dropping all the worries he had; happy you were both on the same page. Now he was free to do as he pleased - as long as you didn’t stop him. “Then… Say you’re mine…” he leaned in even more, hovering just centimeters above your lips, your breaths mingling. “...pet.”
You exhaled harshly, the nickname doing things to you, his closeness, his voice, his scent… All of it an intoxicating mix of pure Tengen. “I’m… yours.” 
“Hm? I didn’t hear you. Say it louder,” he whispered breathily, eye half-lidded. “Come on, be a good girl. You know you want to be~”
Your face felt hot at the intensity of his attention. “I’m yours.”
“Exactly, precious - mine to touch…” His right hand caressed your cheek, tilting your face up. “Mine to kiss…” he breathed out, diving in for a deep and sensual kiss that stole your breath away. “Mine to do whatever I please…” His hand traced down your neck gently as he kissed you again. “You’ve been naughty…”
His lips left your own; instead trailing open-mouthed and hot kisses on your throat.
“Teasing me all evening…”
Your pussy clenched around nothing, his cock bumping on your clit as he tried to position himself hands-free.
"Minxes-"
His tip caught at your entrance and he slid in with a low groan, your heat and wetness driving him near-mad already.
"You were so gorgeous, all of you." 
In, and out, in and out - each time quicker and quicker, yet the way he took you could hardly be called graceful. It was an animalistic and desperate pace, all about pleasure and none about being pretty.
He leaned back a little, holding his weight on his hand. "Hold onto me," he panted out. "C'mon raise those hips f'me, precious." 
You tightened your thighs on his hips, gripping as much as you could with his disharmonic thrusts, and arched your back off of the bed. His cock hit a very sensitive spot inside making you groan at the sensation and nearly slip down as you lost strength; Tengen used his left forearm to stabilize you as he fully raised himself upright on his knees, his right hand helping his thrusts.
He groaned, “You’re fucking perfect - and all mine, only mine.”
You could only mewl in response, your orgasm quickly approaching. 
As did his.
“Fuck- fuckfuck, I’m coming, I’m coming-comingcomingcomin-!” he chanted over and over, falling over and putting nearly his whole weight on you as his hips stuttered. He leaned on his left forearm above your head to ease off of you a little, still slamming away into you, rhythmless and sloppy.
Heat filled you, setting you off like fireworks. Your pussy milked him for all he was worth, each spasm accompanied by a whimper from you.
“I can’t stop my hips- It feels so good, ngh-!” His semen spilled out of you with each slap of skin against skin, his pubic bone bumping against your clit and creating a burning ache there. Tears filled your eyes when finally he groaned out, "Fuuuhck-" You felt his hot cum spill inside you again, making you wonder where your husband acquired such libido and stamina while you were away. 
Tengen slowed down at last, his body trembling above yours as he hid his face in your neck, panting. Your arms were boneless and refused to keep any semblance of coordination; nevertheless you hugged him loosely, one hand tangling in his sweaty locks. You untied his eye-patch and dropped it at your side, fingers returning to his scalp.
Each breath became longer and longer, his rutting finally coming to a stop. 
He huffed and kissed your neck gently. "Gonna pull out now-" he grunted when your pussy spasmed around him, clearly overstimulated. He finally pulled out fully, for the first time since sinking into your heat, and nearly got hard at the sight again. 
His cum was smeared all over your thighs and more still was leaking out of your puffy pussy. He could not resist - his hand gathering some of the pearly white, reaching up and smearing it all over your tits. 
"Hey!" you protested half-heartedly.
Tengen laughed, still a little breathless. “Not sorry.” He gave you a short but insanely soft kiss, before standing up and walking to the door. “Stay where you are.” His form disappeared.
You relaxed, the gentle breathing of your wives soothing you. That was… something. You had never been with a woman before, nor had you had an orgy, or really been with anyone other than Tengen, but this felt good, this felt nice. Overwhelming, but neverending pleasure. Giving and taking freely. No pressure. Just ecstasy.
Tengen came back, carrying a small bucket of water and a few rags, each a different color. He gave you a wink and knelt next to Suma first, wetting one of the rags and cleaning her up, his gentle motions a clear worship to his wife. Once clean, he scooped her up and carried her over to the other side of the room-futon. Suma had not stirred once.
You rolled onto your side to watch him work as he moved onto Makio. Hers was swift, yet Tengen kept pausing every time she mumbled something in her sleep. Finished, he carried her to Suma, who immediately cuddled Makio to her chest. He threw a blanket over both of them as they snuggled for warmth.
Watching him care for them told you how deeply he loved each one, how devoted he was. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel jealous. Perhaps it’s the remnants of shinobi culture lurking in your brain, though the thought didn’t comfort you at all.
Hinatsuru groaned when he cleaned up his spend from her thighs, the water clearly going cold with time. Tengen shushed her softly, speeding up so he could get her to be with the others quicker. 
With the girls, Hinatsuru rolled over, pressing herself up against Makio, seeking warmth.
At last, it was your turn.
“You’re shakin'…” You didn’t even notice until he pointed it out. He quickly grabbed the last wet rag and wiped you down gently. The water was lukewarm. “I’m right here, precious.” 
His own body seemed clean enough, so he’d already done that for himself in the bathroom probably. You reached out and placed one of your hands on his thigh, right over the marks Makio left on him, hoping to provide him with a little of the comfort he brought you. Tengen smiled at that gesture.
“You did a good job, makin’ me feel good.”
You hummed. “And you did a good job making me feel fantastic,” you whispered as he finally wiped the drying cum off of your chest. 
His hand slowed a little. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“No, you were just right.”
He leaned down to give you a tender kiss, the forearm of his left arm caressing your cheek oh so gently, it made you tear up a little. This man, your husband, worshiped you like a goddess. Your love for him swelled in your chest, your heart pumping heavily as if it wanted to beat out of your body. You felt loved - loved, cherished, appreciated. It was a heady feeling, a drug which made you crave even more of his soft attention and veneration. 
You could only hope he understood the power he had over you.
Tengen set the rag on the rim of the bucket and put it beside the futon. You got to your knees to join the others when your husband snatched you up, making you yelp a little. He was grinning. “Can’t have you walking after your first night in our flashy group, can I?”
You giggled quietly when he laid you down, himself between you and Hinatsuru, who felt a greater warmth from his side than from Makio’s and rolled over to him. You reached out and threw a blanket over all three of you.
Despite your tiredness, you allowed Tengen to pull you even closer against him, bestowing another adoring kiss to the crown of your head. One of your arms stretched over him, tracing idle patterns on his chest - characters, words, should he pay enough attention to notice them.
I adore you.
I never want to leave your side.
I want to make you happy.
You make me happy.
I'm yours.
You're mine.
We are husband and wives, a family unit, never to be separated.
You closed your eyes and drifted off.
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soy-garbage · 3 months
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JJK SMAU RECOMMENDATIONS ! PART 2 !!
Hello everyone!! I finally got around to do part 2 of jjk smaus!! hope y'all enjoy it and again all the credit for the works goes to the amazing authors who made them, and if you wrote any of these and are seeing my post: AAA Thank you for the great content!!! ≧◡≦<33 keep being amazing!! (part 1 here!)
(Completed: ✿)
(On going: ★)
・:*SMAU SERIES! :
SpellBound / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿
・:*synopsis// By no means did you hate soulmates, you just hated that he was your soulmate. not like megumi was ecstatic that he was your soulmate either. but that’s fine, both of you found someone else to keep you company.
Show Me How / Yuta Okkotsu x Reader ★
・:*synopsis// What happens when fans catch you eyeing yuta on your friends stream? could it be something more?
Soft and Lightweight / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ★
・:*synopsis// In which megumi confesses to his sister's best friend after accidentally drinking at a party and how they try to go back to their original relationship afterwards. However, no matter how much they try to ignore each other and act like everything's okay, the awkward tension and growing heartbeats cannot be hidden.
You Always Had Me / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★
・:*synopsis// what would you do if your hot best friend agreed to fake date you to make your ex-boyfriend jealous? Will it ruin your friendship or will it prevail into something more?
≡Open Chat ≡Open CH / Gojo Satoru x Reader ★
・:*synopsis// Two streaming groups are introduced to one another through their chat and find out they happen to go to the same university. When they decide to collaborate an interesting bond begins to form between two individuals. When the internet is involved within your love life it’s natural that things begin to turn rocky, especially when the two has a not so cute background following them.. how do they get their name out there and release to the media that things aren’t as they seem? or how do they do they come to terms that they’ve became closer then they’ve realized.
Fashion Flirt / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ✿
・:*synopsis// You’re a fashion student in your first year of college, beginning the end of 2nd semester project, which just so happens to be designing a collection of 3 outfits to be modeled at a fashion show in late May. Your classes host model auditions for designers like you to go pick your models. While everyone is able to write down a max of 20 people, there’s one boy that catches your eye you hope ends up in your final 3.
Sleepless Nights / Yuta Okkotsu/Toge Inumaki x Reader ★
・:*synopsis// Your second year of high school was supposed to be as boring as every other year, and for a while, that's exactly how it was. But an unexpected encounter with a mysterious boy one night suddenly makes your life more interesting.
Falling for you (and your streams!) / Megumi Fushiguro x Reader ★
・:*synopsis// Yn, a streamer who is roommates with Maki, Toge and Yuta, meets Maki's girlfriend on a certain stream. But what happens when Yn catches the eye of Nobara's best friend?
Flirting and Caffeine / Nanami Kento x Reader ✿
・:*synopsis// where yn, a newly hired barista (thanks to her brother) who also happens to master the reversed curse technique, meets Nanami Kento, a grade 1 sorcerer who favours the specific cafe that yn has started working at. He suddenly favours that cafe a little more than usual.
・:*SMAU ACCOUNTS! : 
@lilsillycat
@saintkaylaa
@inmaki
@threewholeants
That's it!! if y'all would like me to do another part, please let me know!!!
check out all the accounts i tagged! i love their content and i'm sure you will too<3
thank you for reading ♡( •ॢ◡-ॢ)✧˖° ♡
( All the credit of the smaus goes to the accounts who made them! : @4phskingdom @strawberri-elixir @bryngmemoney @wmuffy @satoluv @bbunisre @satcrvz @todayisawthewhxlewxrld )
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astroaid · 3 months
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astro observations
Accuracy influenced by entire chart.
🪻 Family member w/ a cap venus met his wife at her workplace.
- This placement is generally attracted to polite, well-dressed/groomed people. Partnerships work best when the partner has a steady plan for their future. Cap venus spouses generally are: reliable, humble, and hardworking.
🪻 Taurus Venus+7th H Venus may have relationships (friends, lovers, and business) with lazy people. (lazy is a harsh word but I can’t think of a better one)
- Ex 1. My taurus venus friend had a partner in university who was financially supported by their parents well into adulthood. This resulted in the partner having terrible work ethic. Their laziness resulted in unemployment and lack of ambition in career.
- Ex 2. This taurus venus had a partner who would ask to cancel dates to stay at home. They preferred to spend most of their free time gaming. Very much a homebody.
🪻 Aqua is a fixed sign and I’ve noticed aqua venus people have fixed types physically. And their “type” can often be physically different from them.
- Ex 1. Aqua venus man says he loves to date tall girls. He’s about 6 feet and has only ever dated women very close to his height. And right now is trying to rizz up a woman taller than him.
- Ex 2. The other aqua venus has only dated men from a different racial background than her. The type is “fixed” because the men are always the same race although different than her.
🪻Venus in 9th H woman ik is in a long distance relationship. I know it’s such a generic example of this placement but it’s accurate!
🪻 Gemini Venus friend loves a lil toxicity. Picking fights to get the other person riled up in a fun & loving way.
- This may be a negative manifestation of this placement. Because (generally) this placement is prone to get bored in long term connections. This does not mean that they don’t love their partner or they can’t have a forever relationship. It means partnership work best with partners who have a youthful energy. Someone who is as curious and clever as they are.
- This placement’s likely to have a spouse who is witty, a little devious in their humour but overall intelligent & respectable.
🪻 Not all libra risings have symmetrical bodies. If the ruler, venus is afflicted you may have some asymmetrical features. This does not mean you are unattractive.
- Libra rising w/ venus in scorpio & venus conjunct mars. She has asymmetrical dimples.
- Libra rising conjunct mars. She has had a prominent scar on the left side of her chest from a heart surgery she had as a child. ngl it looks badass. my scorpio venus is intrigued & wld love a scar like this.
🪻 6th H chiron can manifest as becoming extremely critical of oneself. I’ve noticed 6th H chiron people are likely to seriously consider & get cosmetic surgeries.
- Person A w 6th H chiron in gemini is open to their circle about having rhinoplasty (nose job). They aren’t ashamed and I’ve seen them give info and joke to those who are curious/interested. Ex: Joking that “you should try learning to contour your nose before spending so much”
- But Person B has 6th H chiron in scorpio. When they had their cosmetic surgery done, they only told those who it was necessary to tell. Like the people who would be taking care of them in their recovery. They have told me they joke to their social circles that they’re just a late bloomer to avoid speculation.
🪻 As a scorpio venus, it is nice to see our loyalty being constantly recognized and appreciated. However, that is such a generic analysis of this placement. Often people seem to forget that Scorpio deals with possession and power dynamics.
- Ex: Scorpio venus man asked for a one sided open marriage from his wife after she has their first child. This allowed him to see other women but she was not allowed to see other men (nor did she want to though). She was incredibly hurt but did not want to be a single mom. And she did financially rely on him as well. This is a negative manifestation of scorpio venus. Instead of loyalty, there were toxic power dynamics at play.
🪻 Ruler of 10th in 7th. I’ve noticed these people can mainly become known for who they are dating or dated.
Ex: This can manifest as having a partner who is more social or popular in their social circles.
Ex.2. It can be negative as people may gossip about your relationships for their entertainment.
🪻 Gemini 7th house can experience getting friend or sister/brother zoned.
🪻 Venus opposite Uranus indicates someone will suddenly end their relationship with you. This can be someone you’re dating, a friend or family. It may even be getting fired from a job since venus is connected to money.
Some may find that people repeatedly surprise them by cheating, leaving or ghosting. There may be some behaviour or pattern within yourself that you must confront for this to end. For others, it may happen once and it will hurt by at least it can be a lesson learned or karma cleared.
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toruro · 6 months
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i just think….toxic ex bf!dino who starts hoeing out to make you jealous.. he fucks any random girl at any random party but only thinks of you, making sure his hickeys are visible enough for you to see them, posting pics with randoms on his socials 💭
nectar of the gods
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tags: smut (18+), angst, toxic chan (duhh), pet names (baby), creampie
w/c: 1.4k
a/n: this concept is insanity actually anon i am in love with u (WINK WONK WINK WONK WINK WONK) ..,,, pls visit my inbox more often :3
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thinking about your toxic ex chan.
it's funny when you say that, because he was the one who said he wanted to end things on good terms; told you he wanted "none of that drama ... none of that petty shit." chan had said it so casually that you're now having a hard time trying to figure out if you're going crazy.
crazy, because just three nights after you two ended things, he was posting on his finsta (which, by the way, he demanded you stay on for the sake of keeping peace and not cutting ties) at some party you weren't invited to with some girl you didn't know dancing—no, grinding—on the same man whose lap you were bouncing on just a week earlier.
crazy, because two days later you go to hang out with your group of friends and of course chan is there (because when isn't chan there?), and you swear you haven't seen him wear a shirt with a collar that low in ages and ... is that a hickey? you might go crazy.
crazy, because you aren't sure if he expects you to stare ..,, crazy, because you swear you see his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk when you turn your eyes away, bashfully heating up in the cheeks. "you good?" he asks casually, when you choke over your water a little when you decide to glance back at him and catch second and third splotchy, bruising mark under his collarbone.
crazy, because you aren't sure why your stomach bubbles up with some nasty feeling of ... anger? uncertainty? jealousy?
crazy, because how could you be jealous? you broke up with him—told him you've got too much going on in your life, and while chan was great and all, you don't really have the time for a boyfriend right now. so really, you have no right to be jealous, isn't that correct?
fuck, you've gone crazy.
it doesn't help that you try to avoid him. the next week, you don't sit next to him in the lecture you have together, and you don't think chan'll make a fuss about it. after all, it seems like he's moving on just fine, so you hardly consider the fact that he might be just a bit bothered by the fact that you choose to sit next to seungcheol instead.
you don't expect him to walk up to you afterwards with a frown etched deep into his lips as he scoffs, "already throwing yourself on my friends?" to which you'd like to respond with: "aren't you doing just the same?" ... 'cept you don't say that, because that would mean you're jealous, right? and you're not jealous ... no way!
so you just shake your head softly and say that you're sorry for causing a fuss. that you'll sit with him next time. that you'll start talking to seungcheol less. chan grins at you and nods his head, and as he turns away to head to his car, you catch the fading mark on his neck from a few nights before, and wonder if you should say something.
you don't, of course.
that night you go home, and you're scrolling on your insta and then there's that bright ring around the chan's finsta and so curiosity undoubtedly kills the cat. maybe you tear up a little at the sight of a an obviously faded chan who's got his cheek pressed up against another girl's, both of them grinning as people party in the background.
and so you call him, and he's sweet at first. asks you, "hey what's up ... hey are you crying?" to which you respond with more sniffles. and you wanna hang up, you wanna hang up so bad, but then you think that if you cut the call he's just gonna go off and talk to that girl—or worse, he'll fuck her—and you're totally not jealous but you also totally can't let that happen.
and so you cry a bit harder—you replay the image of those stupid, big fat hickeys on his neck—and you let your tummy churn while you wallow in your own self pity.
"what's wrong baby?" chan asks you from the other side, and in the background you faintly hear the blaring techno and you briefly consider telling him you miss him, which is odd because you don't miss him ... do you? you just don't want him to go off with what's-her-face ... right?
and so you're silent, tryin' to figure out what you should say but then you hear this voice and it's too high pitched, too bubbly, too girly to be chan's, and suddenly your heart sinks right down to your stomach.
"channie, c'mon! let's have some fun?" the voice of a girl calls in the background, and you're just about to open your mouth and say something when chan beats you to it.
"i gotta go," he tells you in a rush and oh the sound of the line being cut will be you're undoing, because now the image of chan fucking this random ass girl burns into your skull and for some reason, you can't seem to shave it down.
and so you drown yourself in your tears, pressing yourself into the cushions of your couch and your sobs rack through your empty living room while chan is probably in some strangers room fucking the living daylights out of a cunt that isn't yours.
you think you might just fall asleep like this—alone in this dimly lit room with nothing but your tears dropping onto your lap; and so when you hear chan's voice you think this might be a dream, but then you look up and suddenly you see him.
he stands in front of you in all his glory, face flushed and faux blonde hair brushes just over his eyes as he walks closer to where you sit on your couch. chan shushes you when you ask him why he's still got your keys—tells you that isn't important right now—and he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears, asks you why you're crying, why there are tears in your eyes when "channie's right here ... channie's not gonna leave you ..."
and then he's kneeling in front of you, askin' you again why you're crying and so you cry even harder ... his hands are all over you, stroking your cheeks and then rubbing your shoulders, then one hand's on your hip and kneading the soft flesh and you think he's just trying to comfort you and so you cry even harder because you wonder whether he had his hands on that girl just moments earlier.
but then he's whispering in your ear, tellin' you he's gonna "make you feel better ..." but only if you'll let him.
his hands feel so nice all over you, rubbing up and down your thighs and—fuck, when did he slip his fingers between your legs? not that you care anyways, because even with your mind deluded with tears, you find the want to slowly hump your hips into his touch until he's slipping his hand down your pant, asking you if this is you letting him "make you feel good."
of course, you whine through your tears, nodding dumbly when he slips his rough fingers into your soaked cunt, murmuring into your neck 'bout how "channie's always gonna be here to make you feel better ... channie's never gonna leave ..."
he fingers you for a bit, and then he fucks you into the couch. it's hot and sloppy and heavy and messy, and it has you crying and panting—hands all over each other because you can't get enough of him.
your lips run all over his neck, his chest, collarbone—all of it, because you are in no way jealous, you just enjoy marking your territory. and chan fucks you so deep, groaning, "this pussy's made for me—just for me, you hear me?" and you are not a jealous person but you grin to yourself in this fucked out haze because chan is right.
you wrap your arms around his neck as he fucks you missionary, raking your nails into his back, tugging at the roots of his hair—doin' everything you fucking can to show chan that he might not be yours but he is yours, and you are his.
the thought that this might come and bite you in the ass crosses your mind briefly, but chan is quick to fuck your worries away, tellin' you "no one's gonna fuck you like this ..." and so you moan, and chan takes that as an agreement, so he fucks you harder until you're choking over your own sobs of pleasure.
"this pussy's mine, you got that baby?"
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sunny44 · 8 months
Text
Reunions on the track
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex best friend!reader
Warnings: fights
Summary: Charles and Y/n have known each other since they were five years old, but with the start of his motorsport career they lost touch.
Years later, when Charles was driving for Ferrari in Formula 1 and Y/n had a degree in photography, their paths crossed again when she was hired as the team's new photographer.
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I was accustomed to the Formula 1 circus.
The roar of engines, the team's hustle and bustle, cameras always pointed in his direction. But on this sunny morning, I was surprised with something or someone to be more specific. I entered the Scuderia Ferrari pitlane and that’s when I saw her, with her back turned to him, skillfully handling a camera. Y/n. Her name echoed in his mind like an echo from the past.
I assumed from the camera in her hand that she had filled the vacancy at Ferrari.
"Are you kidding me?" Charles muttered, addressing Mattia Binotto, the head of the Ferrari team. "Is Y/n here?"
Mattia smiled, as if he knew this could cause turbulence.
“Surprise, Charles. She’s our new photographer. Y/n has an incredible eye for capturing the most intense moments of the races.”
I made an effort to control the flood of emotions rising in me. Me and Y/n had been inseparable friends since childhood, but we drifted apart over time, especially when my career in motorsport took off.
We hadn't spoken in years, and now she is here, on the same team as me.
Our friendship was perfect, we had known each other forever, and I remember our mothers saying that we would definitely get married if we just got older. Over time, I realized that I had feelings for her, and I was willing to wait until we were old enough and then confess my feelings to her. But then everything changed.
I started rapidly advancing through categories, and then I just stopped talking to her.
I stood there for a few minutes just looking at her until Y/n finally turned around, and their gazes met. It wasn't a warm and joyful reunion. On the contrary, there was a moment of tense silence before Y/n broke it.
"Charles Leclerc, the Ferrari golden boy." she said, with a sarcastic smile. "Who would have thought you'd become so famous, huh?"
Charles felt his face grow warm.
“Don’t start Y/n.”
"Don't start? You just disappear from my life when you started winning races, and I'm the one who can't say anything?"
I don't know why, but I didn't think she would be this hostile.
"I was busy, Y/n. You know how life is in F1."
"Busy or not, you could have found a way to stay in touch. But, of course, you had more important things to do than to care about me." She looked at me, hurt. "But who am I to blame you, right? After all, with fame and beautiful models hanging on your neck all the time, I wouldn't mean anything to you anyway."
Those words hit Charles like a punch in the stomach. He knew he had made mistakes, but he never imagined that Y/n was so hurt.
"I'm sorry, Y/n. I should have been a better friend." She let out an exasperated sigh.
"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm here to do my job," she said sternly. "You just need to pretend that I mean nothing to you; I don't think it will be that difficult."
I simply nodded, realizing that the situation was far from resolved. While the engines roared in the background, indicating that I had to get into the car next.
And, of course, I spent the entire practice session thinking about how to have her back in my life.
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Bonus scene!
Yourusername instagram stories
“First day of work done”
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Y/n.jpg nstagram post
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Liked by @lando.jpg, @Scuderiaferrari, @charlesleclerc and @maxverstappen
Y/n.jpg My dream came true and I’m in Monaco photographing the formula 1 Grand Prix
This is the best weekend of my life and here’s a few photos 🏎️
F1 welcome to the f1 family
Maxverstappen nice photos
Liked by y/n.jpg
Landonorris hello there
Carlossainz welcome to the team
Y/n.jpg thank you
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pupyuj · 7 months
Text
→ “temporary fix.” || yoon seeun x reader fic.
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— being friends with yoon seeun means doing whatever it takes to help her forget that the fact that her ex has become significantly happier without her, so you give her exactly what she needs...
word count: 3.5k.
dynamic: dom!bottom!yoon seeun x sub!top!virgin!reader.
content warnings: smut, fingering, nipple play, a bit of hair pulling, this is surprisingly very tame despite the image i had for it initially oh—
requested? : nope.
a/n: my first stayc fic <3 i enjoyed making this, and i hope you guys like it! sorry if there are major errors!! i was really hoping i finished this way earlier but alas... life 🥲 anyway this is just one of my many gifts for you for getting this blog to reach 1k!! you're all amazing n i love you and i'll see you guys in the next fics and the [REDACTED] hehehe 👀
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“she has to be doing this on purpose at this point.”
you say, as your best friend seeun stares bitterly at her ex-girlfriend from far away. chaeyoung sat on the poolside with her ankles in the water and she was laughing loudly at whatever the hell her other friends were doing in the pool. there was some kind of longing in seeun’s eyes and you knew what it meant, it was easy to figure out after all. seeun missed chaeyoung, and deeply regrets leaving her for a reason she has yet to disclose with you still. even after two years of the break-up in question.
“i mean, come on! this is the fourth party where she was ‘coincidentally’ invited to along with her ex—you.” 
you do try to desperately cheer seeun up. you have never once liked seeing her in despair. but something about seeing chaeyoung smiling that widely, shining that brightly, and laughing that loudly does something to seeun’s brain. and it was always nothing good. either this night will end with seeun crying in your arms about how heartbroken she is for hurting chaeyoung the way she did, or neither of you will speak about the event and just sit solemnly on her bed eating pizza and drinking homemade smoothies while a movie plays in the background.
you hope that it will be something different tonight. maybe seeun will be smiling for once! you wanted her and chaeyoung to completely end things on good terms. you knew seeun wasn’t in love with chaeyoung because she had said so many times before, but before they were girlfriends, they were friends. and you knew that it was that them not being able to rekindle their friendship after their break-up was the real reason why seeun always gets so upset whenever she sees chaeyoung.
jayoon, one of chaeyoung’s friends, looks across the pool and meets gazes with seeun, who visibly freezes up. jayoon grins and waves at seeun excitedly, making the other girls as well as chaeyoung turn their heads in curiosity. sumin and yeeun wave at seeun as well, while sieun was rather surprised to see seeun being in the same place as chaeyoung. speaking of which, chaeyoung herself stared at seeun. the latter was convinced that her ex was going to look away, or look at her in disgust or something along those emotions but… chaeyoung smiled softly at her.
kind as ever. and fuck, seeun wanted to cry.
“(y/n)... can we leave?”
you looked at chaeyoung and your best friend back and forth, unsure of what to do.
“are you sure…? what if yujinnie looks for you—”
“i need to go, (y/n),” seeun pries her gaze away from chaeyoung. her eyes were brimming with tears and she grabbed your wrist tightly. “please. i can’t be in here.” seeun puts her head on your shoulder as her tears fall and conveniently, a crowd forms in front of the two of you, effectively hiding her from chaeyoung’s view.
“okay… let’s go.”
seeun wipes her tears away with the back of her hand and smiles at some passing stranger briefly before pulling you towards the front door. she bids goodbye to everybody like normal, expressing faux regrets and even using you ‘not feeling well enough to stay’ as an excuse. you play along of course, you would gladly drop anything for your best friend. yujin was pretty sad that her favorite people had to leave, but she was pretty pre-occupied with stopping a drunken jiwon and gaeul from doing keg stands to really care so she merely waved goodbye before the two of you disappeared behind the front door.
seeun wordlessly climbs into your passenger seat, strapping on the seatbelt and leaning back. you couldn’t read her expression, and it was scary. you decided not to ask about it, however, and pulled out of yujin’s driveway before driving away. seeun had your denim jacket covering her thighs from the chill, and she was looking out the window—no doubt there were a million thoughts going through her head at the moment. thoughts you hoped she would find to share with you so you could take care of her.
like the good best friend that you were, and always have been.
“where are we going, (y/n)?” seeun asks eventually, now looking a bit annoyed as she scans the houses outside.
“huh? i’m taking you to your house.”
seeun looks at you like you’ve lost your mind, “what? no. i want to go to your place tonight.”
“oh… okay.”
you drove past seeun’s house and at the same time, seeun decided to pull out her phone. most likely to text one of her parents that she wasn’t going to come home. it was a normal occurrence, anyway. seeun’s parents originally didn’t like sending their kid off to sleep at another person’s place—a stranger at that!—but you gained their trust eventually… and soon enough, a young yoon seeun found herself staying over your place twice every week.
nowadays, seeun doesn’t even have to tell her parents anything. they know she is always under your care.
“did you want to eat anything?” you asked as the two of you entered your house. it was dark and quiet, but not the kind that scared you. seeun shook her head as she slipped out of her sneakers, then she stood properly, staring as you placed your car and house keys on the key hooks by the door.
“what?” you said. seeun looked at you with wonder in her eyes, then she merely smiles at you before making her way towards your room. the final glance she sends you before she completely disppeared behind a corner made your heart skip a beat, as much as you didn’t want it to.
you followed seeun to your bedroom, where was already digging through her own drawer for some fresh set of clothes. you decided to collapse on your bean bag chair, sighing blissfully at the feeling of being in the comfort of your own bedroom. seeun goes to your bathroom with some clothes in hand, barely closing the door behind her. sure, seeun said she didn’t want anything to eat when you asked her earlier, but you knew she would be grumbling about being hungry after about thirty minutes of laying silently on the bed with you, so you decided to go on your phone to browse some good food to order.
“are we watching a movie tonight, seeun?” you asked as you scrolled through your phone.
“up to you.” seeun replied.
you sighed, looking at your black tv screen. “i do not want to…” you muttered, now finding it too much of a hassle to look for food to eat and a movie to watch. you decided to melt further in your bean bag chair, blinking away your fatigue until seeun came back out of the bathroom, ruffling her soft hair as she held her neatly folded party clothes in her arms.
“freshen up, sleepyhead.” seeun took your hand and pulled you up with much difficulty. seeun didn’t really think about how close the two of you would be, physically of course, before she pulled you up to your feet. right now, she could feel your breath on her face and your warmth on her skin—it all gave her goosebumps. seeun raises a hand and brushes a few stray hairs away from your face and… is she blushing?
“g-give me a minute.” you slipped past your best friend, grabbed a random combination of your usual sleepwear and disappeared insde the bathroom. your cheeks felt so hot, and your heart was beating erratically. what the fuck. you were afraid this would happen tonight. again.
truth to be told, lately you have been feeling a few things towards your very own best friend. you tsrtaed to find her prettier than normal, and sometimes you can’t even look or speak to her without your brain screaming at you like crazy. but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. you managed to convince yourself that you were just so terribly lonely that your heart has decided to ‘settle’ for your best friend. first of all, that was unacceptable considering seeun was hurting because of her ex-girlfriend! second, you knew seeun wouldn’t see you in that way, so why would you even bother?
and third, perhaps most importantly, one does not try to get into a romantic relationship with their best friend unless they want their heart to suffer the most gut-wrenching heartbreak ever. you cherished your heart too much to let yourself be hurt like that, so seeun? absolutely off limits!!
“i thought you said you didn’t wanna watch anything?” you teased as you walked out of the bathroom in some shorts and one of your big shirts. seeun was sitting on your bed, eyes glued to your tv screen as ‘clueless’ played.
“i had to find something to entertain me while you were taking your sweet time in there.” seeun pats the big empty space on your bed, beckoning you over. you settled beside her, relishing in the mingling feeling of your cold bed and your best friend’s warmth. seeun was closer to you than usual, or maybe you were overexaggerating… but then seeun hugs your arm, putting her chin on your shoulder… and with her lips so close to your skin, you couldn’t help but shiver.
“sorry i ruined your night. i know you wanted to be in that party,” seeun fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. “because of wonyoung, right? you guys have something, don’t you?” your best friend asked. she didn’t have to, though. she watched you develop this big stupid crush on the campus princess over the past few months, and she knew that she was the reason you were holding yourself back from fully committing all of your attention to the other girl.
seeun needed you, her best friend, especially at this time of her life.
“no, don’t worry about it. i’d rather be here, honestly. my head was starting to hurt.” you smiled at your best friend, surprising yourself by the close proximity. the tip of seeun’s nose nearly touched yours, making your breath hitch. it didn’t go unnoticed by seeun, of course, and her eyes flicker down to your lips.
your heart was hammering in your chest—this was really going to happen, isn’t it?
“thank you for being so willing to get me out of there. away from chaeyoung,” seeun whispered. a cold hand slips underneath your shirt, resting on your waist, and your best friend presses herseld up against you even more. an overly-sweet side hug, you were convinced.
that was until seeun climbed onto your lap, wrapping her arms around your neck and pulling you even closer as if that was possible.
“you’ll help me heal from her, right, (y/n)? even just for one night?” seeun asked. of course you weren’t stupid, you knew what she was implying.
a part of you wanted to resist. seeun was your best friend. surely everything will change if the two of you were to go through with this, right? and you didn’t want anything like that to happen between the two of you. but how could you resist? especially when seeun brushes your hair back, cradles your face in her hands, and runs her thumb across your lips so gently? and how could you even think of pushing her away when she leans down and kisses you?
how could you stop yourself from melting? warmth bloomed across your chest the longer seeun’s lips were on yours. kissing her was like biting into a cotton candy—it was sweet, so sweet, and you could never get enough. and so you ask for more, and more you do get.
eventually, seeun was laying down on the bed with you on top of her. she was touching and groping as her lips moved expertly in sync with yours. you didn’t know what to do. as much as you liked what you were doing with seeun, you had no idea how to move further from this. so, you pulled back, but not too far as seeun stopped you from doing so by clutching your shirt, trying desperately to pull you back in. “s-seeun… wait, how do i… what do i do?” you were embarrassed to be asking that kind of question in the middle of the act, and even more embarrassed seeing your best friend laugh at you. 
seeun was sweet about it, however. “i’ll help you, don’t worry.”
seeun kisses you again—one hand cupping your cheek and the other softly holding your wrist, guiding your hand all the way down her thighs, sneaking them in between and making you feel her cunt through her shorts. “touch me, (y/n). go on.” seeun whispers against your lips. and so you do—unzipping her jean shorts and slowly slipping your hand inside. you couldn’t believe you were touching your very own best friend’s pussy, and you couldn’t believe she was letting you! christ, she wasn’t just letting you, she was telling you to!
feeling her folds through the fabric of her panties, witnessing the slightest changes on seeun’s features as you did so. “come on… you can do better than that.” seeun said as she slightly bucked her hips into your hands. she was so desperate for your touch that she didn’t care that she looked ridiculous. she could never look like that to you though.
“a-are you sure…?” you just had to ask. seeun smiles softly at you, appreciating your intent but goddamn, she was so impatient that she didn't even reply. merely lifting her hips up and removing her shorts on her own, seeing that you weren’t going to do that anytime soon. you stared at your best friend incredulously as she threw her shorts to the side, all while smirking at your expression.
“still doubting what i want, (y/n)?” this time, seeun pulls off her shirt. she doesn’t let you ogle at her perfect body for too long before she takes your face in her hands and kisses you again. thankfully this time, you knew what to do with yourself, albeit barely. reaching behind seeun’s back and pulling off her bra, letting it fall off to the side on top of her discarded shorts. she tugs on the collar of your shirt, and immediately you took it off, also desperate to feel your best friend’s skin against yours.
“i always thought you were pretty, (y/n).” seeun says, her hands gliding along your back.
“i could say the same thing to you.” you said. you leaned back down, smiling briefly at your best friend before putting your lips on her neck, earning a soft moan. “is this okay?” you whispered against her skin. you only felt seeun nod before she leaned closer, clearly wanting you to continue, and so you do. you nipped and ran your tongue all over her neck until little red spots were blooming. perhaps you went overboard, but hearing seeun moan and softly call out your name as you did it just flipped a switch to your brain.
you couldn’t wait to touch her. to help her. to kiss her. tonight, she was yours. not to the little parts of chaeyoung that remained in her heart, but yours.
and you were going to make every single second of this worth it. for the both of you.
your lips trailed further down seeun’s body, quickly reaching her chest. you looked up at your best friend, searching for any sign of discomfort or uncertainty. there was none, so you proceeded with taking one of seeun’s boobs into your hand, gently squeezing it before wrapping your lips around the hard bud. while swirling your tongue around her nipple, your other hand slowly trailed down her stomach until you reached her panties, pulling it off without a problem and immediately cupping her dripping cunt.
“good job, (y/n)—ah…!” seeun buries her hands in your hair as you move on to her other nipple, giving it the same kind of care and attention as the other one. simultaneously, you pressed your fingers against seeun’s clit, circling it as well as teasing her entrance. “y-you’re not actually completely clueless, are you, baby?” seeun asks, her fingers threading your hair as you continue to pleasure her nipple. you opened your eyes, immediately meeting seeun’s very own soft ones. while you flicked her nipple with your tongue, you slowly inserted two fingers inside her, watching as she threw her head back in pleasure.
“g-good… good..!” seeun’s hold on your hair tightens, and it hurt a bit but you didn’t mind. you feel wrap one leg around your thighs, afraid that if she doesn’t lock you in, you would leave. but there was no way that was going to happen now—especially after you’ve felt just how warm she was inside. you pushed your fingers deeper inside her, rubbing her clit with your thumb in an attempt to soothe her but you didn’t know that it only sent her mind reeling.
you tilted her head, worry settling on your stomach when seeun clutches onto your shoulder a bit too tightly. “seeun?” you stopped your movements, pulling your fingers out and putting your hand on her abdomen to soothe her.
seeun glares at you, “don’t stop, (y/n).”
“i-i just thought—”
“fuck me. don’t think of anything else.”
seeun yanks on your hair and pulls your face up to hers, kissing you roughly. you kissed her back, your hand once again making its way down to her pussy. this time, you didn’t allow yourself to listen to the small voices in your mind that told you that something about all of this was so wrong. your best friend, seeun, was in a vulnerable place and even though she let you, you were taking advantage of it to satisfy your personal interests.
something was telling you to stop. to get yourself in the right state of mind. to tell your best friend that all the things she was doing to forget about chaeyoung, especially this, was wrong. but instead, you plunged your two fingers deep inside seeun, thrusting into her in a pace that made her swear, and moan so loud, and sob into your shoulder.
“ff-fuck…! fuck, (y/n)—more…” seeun wrapped her arms around your neck, completely burying her head hidden from view. you kissed her cheek before doing what she asked, increasing your speed even further and doing your hardest to hit all the right spots. every thrust, every lingering sensations on her clit, and every kiss filled seeun’s mind with only you. as much as it started to hurt now, seeun could only take what you were giving her—just so every remaining image of her ex-girlfriend completely disappears from her mind.
and perhaps that’s exactly what happened when you finally curled your fingers inside her and made her come all over your hand. you were pretty sure that you had multiple bleeding wounds on your back from the way seeun scratched you as she came undone, moaning your name and all.
you stared at seeun—she looked so fucking pretty all fucked out and sweaty. her chest heaved up and down, and she blinked the fatigue away because she knew that from the way you licked your fingers hungrily that you weren’t done with her. but that was all she wanted right now.
“all night, seeun,” you promised her. “if that’s what it’ll take you.”
and indeed, you fucked your best friend all night. seeun never once begged for you to stop. after every orgasm she had, she only asked for more until you knew she couldn’t come anymore. you were pretty sure that the sun had started rising up by the time seeun finally allowed herself to get some rest. you laid yourself down beside her, fixing up her hair as she slowly succumbed into sleep.
you talked yourself through your own worries since seeun wasn’t there to do so. consoling your own heart because you were so fucking terrified that everything wouldn’t be the same after all of this—after everything the two of you did this night.
you were prepared to face the worst when you woke up alone hours later. you expected to be cold, to feel empty inside but it was the exact opposite. when you opened your eyes, you felt warm and your heart was full.
maybe it was because of the fact that your blanket was placed carefully and perfectly so that it would cover your entire body from the cold. maybe it was because your room was illuminated by the beautiful sunlight streaming through your curtains.
or maybe because the first thing you saw after opening your eyes was seeun drying her hair with a towel after exiting your bathroom, looking at you and smiling and saying, “hey, sleepyhead.” ensuring you of the fact that absolutely nothing has changed, and will ever change between the two of you. 
you have never been more happy to willingly ‘make a mistake’.
416 notes · View notes
meatballlady · 8 months
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It's time for the fandom to start Looking Where the Furniture Isn't
For a bit of background, one of my irl professional responsibilities is to identify and avoid making undue assumptions. There are a LOT of things that we humans assume. We assume that terminology means the same to other people as it does to us. We assume everyone has the same context of a situation we do. We assume that we aren't missing any information.
We operate on the information we have.
There was an ask before season 2 aired asking whether many of the plot points had been revealed by the clips (which almost all took place during the first half of the first episode). Neil's response was something like "oh you sweet summer children you know nothing yet." And boy was he right.
Neil Gaiman is a master of controlling assumptions. Just look at his Tumblr askbox replies.
Here's a few s2 examples of assumptions we all made (as I'm starting a rewatch):
Why did Crowley do the (very fun and distracting) apology dance? You might say it was because he walked out on Jim, but he never specified, did he? And Aziraphale was surprised that he proposed they would hide him "together"
How did Shax get a rumor about something going down in the Up (presumably) before Gabriel even went downstairs?
Did Jim need to bring Aziraphale something other than the box? He never actually specifies; Aziraphale just assumes it's the box.
Why did Aziraphale assume Maggie could feel [Michael, Uriel, Saraquael] arriving?
Why does Aziraphale say Heaven would notice even a small miracle? Crowley is seen doing a miracle before their large miracle (traffic light), and later Aziraphale makes the guy leave the table at the pub
To go deeper:
Are we assuming that characters are telling the truth? Example: "Miracles don't work like that," "[Extreme sanctions] was just something we said to frighten the cherubs" etc.
Are we assuming that nothing of note happened between apocalypse v1 and s2? (ex. the claims that Crowley didn't tell Aziraphale about the trial in heaven despite him referencing it in s2s1) What if we the audience are just jumping in near the end of this story?
Are these assumptions correct? Or are we just working with the information that we have?
Now that I'm looking for it, there's also SO many corrections of assumptions (usually for the sake of a joke, but still) (these are just the ones that happen while I type them out while watching e2):
"Can I be a blue one?" "You haven't annoyed me yet" "But can I be?"
"You recognized [Michael, Uriel, Saraquael] those people who were in the shop just now?" "Of course, they were in the shop, just now!"
"oh my god!" "blasphemy, angel, that's not like you", "no, oh, my god"
Many of the themes were about hiding things in plain sight: the kids (and kids), Jim, "aim for my mouth but shoot past my ear." Clue (1985) was heavily referenced in the lead-up. The whole point of that film was looking at what was going on elsewhere. Looking where the furniture isn't, you might say.
The more I watch s2, the less certain I am that any of it makes sense on its own.
I'm currently combing through it to see if there are any discrepancies with where people are (easiest example is when Crowley just disappears from the bookshop while they're reviewing the Job story). It'll be a lot of data and might not lead anywhere, but I'll definitely share once I finish looking into it.
I will also honestly admit that these things are all circumstantial, and I could be going insane. But they just keep cropping up all over the place. I've got a lot of time before S3 comes up and I intend to investigate the furniture. And try to not make assumptions.
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rintaroll · 9 months
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❝ *・🎥 ·̩͙ TRUTH OR DRINK ❞ | ex high school sweethearts edition
[ tags : suggestive, maybe an exes to lovers trope, they used to be academic rivals to lovers!!! reader attends uni from out of the country (unspecified), unedited pls go easy on me ]
[ truth or drink m.list ]
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you : i'm y/n.
kuroo : wait, are we starting?
[yeah.]
kuroo : oh, sorry, i'm kuroo.
you : and we're exes. from high school.
the video cuts to a text on a white background. the text says, 'exes from high school ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.'
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[how long did you guys date?]
kuroo : for like... two years?
you : yep. two years.
[do you guys still hang out together?]
you : yeah. we, like, share the same friend groups.
kuroo nods.
you : oh, but only when i'm in the country though.
kuroo : yeah, they just flew back here a few days ago. we've seen each other every day since then.
[when was the last time you hung out together?]
you : last night.
when your head turns to the camera, there are several raised eyebrows from the camera crew. realization dawns on you.
you : no. no-
kuroo : not- not like that.
you : yeah. wait, i mean- no. whatever, can we just take a shot?
the video cuts to both of you clinking your shot glasses together before downing the liquor down.
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[who's going first?]
you : i will.
you clear your throat, eyes finally settling on the card in your hands. kuroo grins encouragingly.
you : do you still find me attractive?
kuroo : yes. of course.
you laugh while kuroo turns his head towards the camera. he raises his eyebrows suggestively with a grin on his face. you slap his arm.
[what about them is attractive?]
kuroo : everything. i mean, have you seen them? look at them.
you shrug your shoulders, trying to still seem nonchalant despite the warmth spreading up your neck.
you : you're not so bad yourself, i guess.
kuroo : you guess?
you : next question!
kuroo : what do you mean you guess???
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you : you go.
kuroo shuffles forward and takes a card from the deck. kuroo smirks before reading the question.
kuroo : what was your favorite high school make out spot?
there's a few seconds that pass while you ponder your answer.
you : on second thought, i don't think we've ever really made out at school...
kuroo : yeah... i guess we spent most of high school competing with each other.
you : mhm.
kuroo : but i have to say my favorite would be the locker rooms.
your cheeks heat up, flashbacks of hushed voices and heated kisses flooding your head. you clear your throat and quickly regain your composure. noticing your behavior, kuroo smiles inwardly while he notes how easy it still is to read you. some things never change.
you : i remember when you first kissed me in the gym though.
kuroo chuckles.
[can you tell us more about that?]
you : we were fighting.
kuroo : no, we weren't. i wasn't doing anything, while you were going on and on about how i'm always ranked first in class and you're always second.
you roll your eyes before looking straight into the camera.
you : he never shuts up about it. he rubbed it in my face with every chance he got.
kuroo smiles. for a split second, he saw the younger, high school version of you as you complain. he missed you.
kuroo : so i kissed them.
you : i'm starting to think you being first place in class was only a scheme to date me.
kuroo : just accept it. i'm smarter than you are.
you : maybe. academically.
kuroo : sure, sure.
he waves a hand dismissively, resulting in you narrowing your eyes at him.
kuroo : you're always first in my heart though, sweetheart.
you : you are so irritating.
kuroo : you love me.
you curl your lip, feigning disgust. kuroo only laughs. there is a split second where a smile is shown on your face before the video cuts to the next scene.
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you : who broke up with who, and how did it go down?
you are amused as you watch kuroo dramatically turn to the camera.
kuroo : they broke up with me. they told me they didn't love me anymore.
kuroo was going to face you again before he whips his head back towards the camera.
kuroo : and then!
you : there's an 'and then'?
kuroo : and then they fled the country.
you narrow your eyes.
you : you're making me sound like i'm an escape artist or some type of fugitive or something.
kuroo : you are.
you : wha-
kuroo : you're a criminal for stealing my h-
you kick him under the table. kuroo lets out an 'ow' and rubs his shin. there's more laughter from the crew.
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kuroo : ooh, this one's interesting.
you : hurry up and read it then.
kuroo raises an eyebrow at you. you huff.
you : please.
you roll your eyes as kuroo grins, satisfied.
kuroo : kiss me like you did in high school.
kuroo notices when your lips form a straight line. you're nervous. kuroo moves his hand ever-so-slightly until it touches yours.
kuroo : should we drink instead?
you : no. no, it's fine, lets do it.
you start to lean over the table while kuroo's still in his seat.
kuroo : yeah. i mean, it'a not like it's been a while since we last kissed.
you :
kuroo : what? why are you looking at me like that?
kuroo is smirking slightly, which irks you.
you : you are so annoying.
kuroo : really?
you : tetsuro, just shut up and kiss me already.
kuroo finally leans over the table. when your lips finally meet, you get lost in the feeling of your lips melding with his. you turn your head to deepen the kiss, and kuroo follows suit instantly. you almost forget how there's still a camera recording your every move, and when you remember, you had to forcefully peel yourself away from him, leaving kuroo chasing after you before realization dawns on him too. it was long after you were settled in your seats before you start to speak up again.
you : right.
kuroo : ... nice.
you : nice.
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you : it's my turn, right?
kuroo : mhm.
you pull a card from the deck, and groan instantly when you scan the words.
you : describe our last time having sex.
kuroo laughs. it's unclear whether it's out of amusement or nervousness.
kuroo : should be easy. you know, since it was just yesterday.
you : yeah.
you and kuroo share a look.
[would you like to elaborate?]
you chuckle nervously.
you : we're lying. obviously.
kuroo : we like to lie, yeah. that's... a thing we do.
you : our mothers would be ashamed.
kuroo : horrified.
you : yeah.
kuroo : yeah.
the scene cuts to both of you clinking your glasses and downing your shot together. two awkward smiles are worn after the glasses are empty.
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kuroo : what's the biggest secret you've kept from me?
you : dang... i don't know, actually. do you have one?
kuroo shrugs.
kuroo : sure.
you : what is it?
kuroo : babe, this is your question.
you : oh. right.
you chuckle awkwardly, your gaze flitting up to the ceiling.
you : i lied when i said i fell out of love.
kuroo :
you : when we broke up.
when you finally manage to return kuroo's gaze, you are shocked to see the unbothered expression on his face.
kuroo : wow. really?
you : you don't sound surprised.
kuroo : y/n, i've known you since middle school.
you :
kuroo : you're not exactly the best liar. i knew you were trying to make leaving the country easier for both of us.
you : oh.
kuroo : yeah. oh.
you : whats your secret then?
a thin, slightly lopsided smile forms on kuroo's lips. your heart skips a beat.
kuroo : i still love you.
you've heard this the night before, but now that you're hearing him say it fully sober, you're sure your heart just leaped out of your chest and started running off elsewhere.
you : oh.
kuroo : oh?
you : what were you expecting me to reply with?
kuroo : i don't know, an 'i still love you too'?
kuroo's voice drops to a loud whisper.
kuroo : we could make this juicy for the viewers.
you laugh.
you : i already said i lied when i said i fell out of love with you.
kuroo grins. not the usual mischievous one, but one where he's baring his row of pearly whites in earnest joy.
kuroo : so you still love me.
you : not for long.
kuroo : you wound me.
you : good.
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there is no more tension in the air when the video cuts to the next scene. your shoulders are visibly less tense and kuroo's hands are toying with one of your hands. you proceed to read out the card on your other hand.
you : did you always know that we wouldn't last?
kuroo : no. we're obviously made for each other.
the corners of kuroo's lips tug up into a grin. you sigh.
you : i guess nobody can put up with you as well as i do.
kuroo : you're my for lifer, babe.
you : you are going to be the death of me.
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*・🎬 ·̩͙ special cut
after the director yells cut, the camera crew disperses almost immediately. you stand up from your seat, feeling the pressure of everyone's eyes on you fade away.
kuroo : well that was fun.
you nod. as he rises from his seat, kuroo lets his curiosity take over and takes the stack of cards from the table. he starts flipping through them, letting his eyes briefly scan each question.
kuroo : these questions were really- oh, y/n, answer this one.
you peek over his shoulder, reading the question yourself while kuroo reads it aloud.
kuroo : of all the lovers, where do you think i rank?
you : hm... probably last.
kuroo's jaw drops. you bite your lip to keep your laughter at bay.
kuroo : wow. woooooow.
you : tetsuro.
kuroo : and to think that we had something special.
you roll your eyes, watching as kuroo brings his palm to his chest, acting like you just shot him in the heart.
you : drama queen.
kuroo : drama queen? drama quee-
you kiss his cheek, which shuts him up in effect.
you : you're literally the first and only relationship i've ever had, dummy.
you leave kuroo in his place, whom you've managed to keep frozen in place. the camera catches you flashing a cheeky grin towards his direction before disappearing off camera completely. the last thing seen before the camera's turned off is kuroo chasing after you, despite still being in a stuttering mess.
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Text
How to choose a first name
do not repost
First names often stick with someone for their whole life, even though it's becoming more popular to change their first name to reflect their own personality. A name chosen before someone can even develop a personality/is born can lead to names that don't fit a person that well. In fiction, you already know a character's whole personality and can name them accordingly.
First names can be more experimental, since they are freely chosen by the name givers, not like the last names.
Origin
A first name can indicate where a character or more importantly their parents come from. Every country (and each region inside a country) has often used names and therefore names that people would associate with that country and wouldn't think twice if someone from there was named like that.
This does not mean that the name has to be originally from that country. Depending on the country and their population there will be influences from other languages over the years that make names completely normal in a country whose language does not fit that name. It may just be pronounced a bit different.
(Ex. Jacqueline was a very popular name in the 90s in Germany, despite it being hard to spell for German kids, and sounding nothing like German, while at the same time it's pronounced very different from the French or English version to still fit somewhat into the German language)
How to find good names for a specific cultural background
I do not recommend generators. They are fun, but most that I tried for German names gave reasonable last names, but very archaic first names or names that kind of looked German, but did not actually exist. Same with baby name sites. Some of these names don't make any kind of sense.
Better solution: find the Top 100 baby name lists for that specific country, it's more accurate of what is a common name there (but find the ones from the years around where your character is born. Not the most recent ones!)
Living with their first name
Decide if your character is happy with their first name and how they use it. Do they think it fits them? Do they get bullied or do they get put into a box because of it? Do they want to change it or do they only go by their nickname? Does it fit their last name? Who calls them by their first name?
An unfitting name
Here are some examples for why a name might not fit a character that well or why it could be surprising to be named how they are. This can be fun to explore in a story and give some insight into their parents' thought process and motives.
Parents that want their child to assimiliate easier to a new country by giving that child a normal name for that country, but that doesn't fit with their own cutural origin
Parents that want their child to succeed in life by giving them a name that they think is a royal or upper-class name, or a name fit for a celebrity, therefore choosing names that are not common in their own surroundings
The parents subscribe to a lifestyle that fits the name (a very old-fashioned one, or one that seems more free-spirited), even though the nameholder may not fit into that lifestyle
More: How to use nicknames | List of Names
Coming soon: a guide on how to name your characters in general and how to choose a last name specifically
If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee! And check out my Instagram! 🥰
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vettelsdarling · 5 months
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𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝
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Lissie note… Here’s the winner of the poll (winner of this season as well)! Anyways, so sorry for my absence… hope this makes up for it❤️
Summary: Reader used to date George, as they’d been friends since birth. However, she takes a liking to someone he considers an enemy on the track: Max Verstappen. They do say revenge is best served cold… and who is colder than the star of Red Bull himself?
Things to note:
Reader is a year younger than Max (same age as George)
Reader made her break in Tennis
George and Reader are not on good terms (he cheated) (this is not a jab at George btw. My fav team is literally Mercedes)
The whole deal is pretty “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”.
Some of the fc is Emma Raducanu (my fav tennis player❤️)
Pairing: Max Verstappen x George’s ex gf!Fem!Reader
Warnings: none really
Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @darleneslane, @allwaysallyway
Playlist Recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐌𝐕𝟏
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yourusername
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Liked by francisca.cgomes, charlottesiine, landonorris and 345,288 others
yourusername Stressful training all week. Ready to show off this weekend!🔥
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charlottesiine Yess! I’ll be watching! Btw, was he any good at tennis?
yourusername He wishes he was me. Should stick to racing.
user1 guys… the third pic…🧍‍♀️
user2 Didn’t George and her split like a few months ago?
user3 New guy? Who’s this🤨
user4 Her brother maybe?
user5 @ user4 Nah, did you see the comment Cha posted and the response to it? That’s def a new guy
user6 @ user5 it’s someone on the grid
user7 Ughhh I can’t wait for this weekend😩👏
user8 Is this the sound of my parasocial relationship crackling?
user9 WHO IS THAT?
user10 Ten bucks it’s Charles
user11 I’ll take that action. Ten it’s Lando
sportsgossip
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26,468 likes
sportsgossip someone spotted a certain tennis player with a certain Red Bull driver… anonymous tip! Seems like someone is over George already…
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user1 Wtf WHEN WAS THIS?
user2 Her recent post…😭
user3 MAX? WHAT😃
user4 I kinda love that omg
maxverstappen1
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Liked by yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 668,378 others
maxverstappen1 Just appreciating the view❤️
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yourusername Conveniently free this weekend
Liked by maxverstappen1
landonorris I’m living for this shade
Liked by maxverstappen1
user1 George is absolutely shitting himself rn I just know
user2 She traded a rookie for a world champion
user3 I respect it
user4 I love that Max is subtly hinting that George didn’t appreciate her as much as he does😭
user5 It’s honestly kinda cute
user6 Shade aside, it really is
user7 George is missing out
user8 Okay but she is GORGEOUS
user9 Can someone give some background info? Why did she and George break up?
user10 Allegedly, George cheated on her with someone he met at a post-race party. She got an anonymous tip about it and they couldn’t seem to work things out I guess… but yeah. Everything is alleged.
user9 Oh okay thanks that’s helpful
yourusername
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yourusername This week was just 🤍🤍🤍
Tagged: charlottesiine
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charlottesiine Must do this again🤍
yourusername Agreed🤍
francisca.cgomes Where was I in this🤨
Liked by yourusername
user1 Okay but these two are literally the best friend dynamic ever.
user2 Two pretty best friends… could never be us @ randomuser
user3 I’m genuinely so confused by her relationship status rn but the fact that her and Cha are still friends??? LOVE IT
user4 Here’s me wishing I was a wag or whatever…🧍‍♀️
user5 Relatable
user6 Can’t wait for her to post pics with Max👏
user7 I mean… it isn’t official though. Is it?
user8 I don’t think she will do that unless she also confirms her relationship with him
user6 @ user8 Max already posted her…
user9 I just know she’s friendly
user10 She is! I went to one of her opens and she signed my card of her and gave me a hug. She even offered to stay around for pictures and stuff.
wagsf1
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12,289 likes
wagsf1 @ yourusername and @ maxverstappen after his race win🌸
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user1 I’m seriously just wondering HOW George is feeling about all this
user2 Whatever he feels abt it… he deserves it.
user3 George is probably crying in the garage
user4 They’re so cute though😭❤️
user5 They’re my new fav couple on the grid.
maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 I don’t think I could’ve been luckier than this❤️
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yourusername ❤️❤️❤️
Liked by maxverstappen1
user1 I’m happy she broke things off with George cause this is just so cute
user2 Maybe don’t bring it up in Max’s comments💀💀
user3 I love how he’s acting like they’ve been dating for years😭
user4 I mean… he has EVERY right to
user5 This is what I mean when I say I want to date
user6 Ik they recently started dating but I just know they’re going to last
user7 Max is so dedicated like wtaf😭 We did not see this from George
user8 We really didn’t💀
user9Max talked about her in the most recent post-race interview😭❤️
user10 This relationship is going to set unrealistic standards for me😭😭😭
yourusername
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yourusername Another win added to my collection🎾🔥 Kind of like you @ maxverstappen1
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charlottesiine I should have seen it live! You were amazing🤍
yourusername ugh I love you
user1 YESSS👏
user2 She’s an icon
user3 Fav wag and fav tennis player
user4 George is MISSING OUTTTT
user5 Wimbledon win upcoming🔥
user6 Manifesting it🙏
user7 Her and Max stacking up wins is a new form of couple goals I haven’t seen before. I love it.
user8 Literally
user9 She’s so pretty❤️
user10 Max is lucky
maxverstappen1 posted a new story
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yourusername posted a new story
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maxverstappen1
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maxverstappen1 Taking a break from reality❤️
Tagged: yourusername
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yourusername ❤️
landonorris Now I know who you’ve been ditching me for
yourusername know your place
landonorris @ yourusername 🤨🤨🤨
user1 So it’s official then
user2 I don’t know who I’d rather be😩
user3 We never saw this content with George🤡
user4 Max and her are the definition of a perfect couple omfg
user5 They’re so cute wtf
yourusername
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yourusername Should I start curling my hair more often?✨
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charlottesiine You’re already gorgeous but that hair is so cute🥰
Liked by yourusername
maxverstappen1 You’re beautiful no matter what you do with your hair❤️
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user1 FABULOUS YET AGAIN😮‍💨
user2 I would leave my current relationship for her
user3 She’s so Lana coded and I love it
user4 She’s just so tennis coded and old money and I’m in loveeee
user5 The fact that SHE was cheated on?🧍‍♀️
user6 Puts things into perspective
user7 I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter how pretty you are anymore😭💀
user8 I’m literally buying tickets to her next game so I can shove marriage papers in her face
user9 I’ll beat you to it
user10 Why Max… why not me😐
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𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)
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a-dinosaur-a-day · 10 months
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Tumblr, We Need To Talk
So multiple times now, posts that I have written, completely free of any sense of anger at all, have been interpreted by folks here - not just as angry - but as malicious. It has now happened enough times that we need to address the biases at hand here.
I am three things that are relevant for this discussion: I am Jewish. I am Italian. And I am Scottish.
These are three cultures that feature "loudness" as a positive trait. What do I mean by that?
I mean arguing, debate, discussion at my home growing up was louder than a kindergarten field trip to the zoo. Louder than a metal concert's mosh pit. Louder than the conure room at a bird shelter.
I am a loud, boisterous person. That's just who I am. With those three cultural backgrounds, I can't even help it. On more than one occasion, someone has interpreted my tendency for the dramatic, my eagerness, and my enthusiasm as being "too much". In fact, it is quite a point of trauma for me, the number of times that specific rejection has occurred.
But to me, I wasn't doing anything wrong! I was acting as my family acted, as people from my culture acted, as those around me in other situations acted. In Judaism, arguing is even seen as emotion-free, because interpersonal debate is how we learn and grow. Even the most stringent and austere Jewish groups will feature a loudly arguing table of scholars in the Beit Midrash. Italian dinners are filled with singing and shouting for joy. Being Scottish means yelling at everything and then yelling at it again. This was, and is, my life. It was loud. It was emotional. It was excitement.
Online, tone indicators are even worse, with many people easily being misunderstood in a given situation. Hell, there are probably those of you reading this now who are reading a higher level of emotion and anger into my words than is actually there. That added complication has now lead to multiple occurrences of this misunderstanding.
This isn't limited to the cultures I come from, of course! The anger and excitement and enthusiasm found in Black culture has been weaponized against it for as long as racism has existed (y'all can ask @ladyraekingmaker more about that). In fact, lower class Black Women in the United States were often perceived negatively for being loud and having their private lives carried out in public (because they did not have access to private spaces). Same for different cultural norms in other places, from Persia/Iran to parts of Latin America and more.
Indeed, loudness, anger, and tone are heavily tied to how different cultures are perceived. Calmness, stoicism, and a lack of "emotionalness" is a highlight of WASPy cultures, famously - "white anglo-saxon protestant" if you're not familiar. Being more "low key" and less expressive was considered high class, being less so was low class. And that still continues today - from the snide comments of tumblr anon's and ex friends, to the literal policing of impoverished communites of color for their celebrations and community gatherings.
The perception of emotion and passion as a "bad" thing is 100% tied to white supremacy. Full stop. In fact, policing people for being "angry" at certain things was a great way to shut down discussion of many important issues, that deserved anger - things like racism, sexism, and homophobia. Anger is a good, important, and necessary emotion - and being emotional in general is a way many people use to emphasize their own points and indicate how much they care about a subject. It's necessary, and it's good. Anger, emotion, excitement, these are good things.
It is better for someone to be angry and up front with you, allowing you to learn and grow as a person, than to bullshit you and mollycoddle you into a state of complacency.
So, that means that for many people reading this, you probably never really thought of how your reaction to loud, or emotional, or dramatic, or excitable people was related to upholding social norms. That's okay! It's not a big deal! We are all born with blind spots and things we are ignorant of that we have to understand and tackle. Growing up is something we never stop doing.
But I'm not magically going to stop being excitable, loud, and emotional. And I'm not going to magically stop being myself. While in person, my tone and facial expressions would help others to at least see that I am not mad but excited; here, you're going to have to take me at my word.
If I am angry, you will know it. It will be extremely, painfully obvious. I might even explicitly say it. But the fact remains is that, every time I have gotten (frankly, condescending) anons in my inbox telling me to "calm down", I haven't been angry at all. And that is a cultural bias a lot of you have to examine in yourselves. By policing how people - not just me - on how they talk and express themselves, you are upholding white supremacy. And you need to stop.
I am too much for some people. That's okay! If I am, you are free to go. No one has to follow me. But I am not going to minimize myself just to make some people comfortable, especially when I am doing nothing wrong. And if you continue to insist that I am, you are missing the point of this post.
Stop worshiping the empty alter of stoicism, of emotionlessness, of quietude. It's not how most humans act. And it shouldn't be, because emotions exist for a reason. That reason? Is communication.
And if you're still not convinced, just get invited to a Pesach seder. Good luck with that being anything close to "calm".
~ Meig
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i-am-a-fan · 9 months
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So remember in the episode “The first Ring” from season 3 where Mei and Redson bump into each other and share a vision of Mei getting the samadhi fire? Okay, well something's been bugging me. (Here's the full image btw. )
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First off please appreciate how beautiful the artwork is because damn. Second, what does it mean? While the different color fires could be an homage to how the Samadhi Fire was first created, we would need to see the 5 elements, not the 3 fireballs we see in the photo. (pg. 575)
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Therefore, I'm going to assume this is more foreshadowing, since the LMK team is amazing at planting seeds that will only grow within future seasons. (ex. Macaque's relationship with Wukong, the lady bone demon, Mk's nature, etc etc.)
So... I'm going to dissect the hell out of this frame.
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The main focus is someone in the center taking in the power of the 3 fireballs. Their form isn't clearly defined, but we can tell it's most likely someone with the standard Lego build: Mk, Mei, Redson, PIF, Tang, etc. I always assumed this was Mei, but I feel like if it was they would have shown it. The next frame shows us Mei with the fire (and once again look at the artwork's beauty.) I have more thoughts on this, but I'll circle back.
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Next up we have the balls of fire. I saw somewhere that these might represent the traffic light trio. Although Redson has mostly been sidelined, I like the sound of that theory, so I am going to piggy back off of it.
Mei would obviously be the green color, MK seems to be the yellow fireball, but then that leaves a blue flame. Yet, not one of the traffic light trio has their signature color as blue. The only character that comes to mind is Sandy/ Mo, but he doesn't have the standard Lego build.
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Of course, this can be Redson, since the original samadhi fire was blue. However, at no point do I remember that Redson has had any teal/ blue markings. In her flashback, Redson is shown with dark red and black, the same as Mei when she eventually gains the fire.
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Unless...
Maybe they character isn’t teal yet..
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Ring a bell????
That's right, the blue/teal might actually end up being Mk. Thus, giving each character a flame. (Redson = Red/yellow, Mei = Green, and Mk = Teal)
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Doing some color drops, you can see that these colors are very similar, but they aren't exactly the same. That being said, they’re close enough that it raises alarm bells in my mind.
Now, circling back to the main image and the person at its center. I think we might see Mk gain the Samadhi fire next. In the image, there is a red background, green under the person's feet, and blue fire emerging from the person's back.
Personally, I think it might be the framing of a timeline using background, middle ground, and foreground. The red background would be Redson, the person who (in this universe) was born with the fire and created it as a whole. Next up would be Mei, who gains the fire in season 3, but seems to lose it at the end of the fight with the lady bone demon. So, that only leaves the future...
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A future that I am personally hoping for...
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Edit: I fixed some grammatical errors. Sorry y’all, dyslexia never rests.
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