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gumii-bearr · 1 month ago

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❝ too late for sorry ❞

summary: suguru wants to try something a little different.

featuring... suguru geto

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, mentions of alcohol (everyone involved is sober), face-sitting, blowjob, handjob, cunnilingus, edging, deepthroating??, 69ing, cum eating, tattooed!geto, pierced!geto, bruising??, slightly mean!geto, overstimulation, fingering, creampie, belly bulge, cockwarming, unprotected sex (DONT DO IT!!!), face-fucking, size kink, reader wearing thigh highs, spanking, possessive!geto, naughty!reader, cervix kissing, dick piercings, i fucking hope that's it.

author's note: i need to be put in horny jail.

"Sugu... this is so embarrassing..."

Suguru grins against the skin of your thigh, too busy peppering wet kisses to the backs of your reddened thighs and your pretty plush ass to give a fuck if you're embarrassed.

It was your own damn fault for wearing that impossibly tiny mini skirt and thigh-highs out tonight. You were hanging out with your boyfriend and his friends, spending the night at a bar playing pool and drinking.

And every time you would bend over to line up your shot in pool, the whole damn bar could see where your soft thighs met your ass and if anyone knew you better, they'd know you weren't wearing any panties.

Gojo was being a dick, sticking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he took a pervy look at your cute little ass as you jumped around with Shoko, excited about pocketing a ball.

Geto's jaw was clenched, eyes dark and narrowed as he watched you lean against the bar, ordering another drink for you and Shoko and blissfully unaware of the fact that every man with a pulse and a brain was checking you out.

He was quiet for the rest of the night, insisting you put on his baggy leather jacket (that completely covered your ass all the way to your mid-thigh), and keeping an arm around your shoulder the whole night.

He wouldn't tell you what was bothering him, keeping his jaw tight with tension and frustration, keeping a protective arm around your waist or over your shoulder, not even offering you the reassurance of looking you in the eye.

You were in trouble.

You knew you were from the moment he handed you his jacket and told you to put it on. Not asked you; told you.

Which led you to a silent ride home, a possessive tattooed hand clutching your thigh as you drove home in silence other than the quiet hum of whatever was on the radio.

Geto didn't wait for you when you got home.

He pushed the front door open, kicked his shoes off and strolled upstairs, leaving you to bend down to unclasp the strap around your ankle, pull off your heels and bite at your lip anxiously.

You slowly padded upstairs, hands clutching Suguru's jacket nervously.

You pushed open your bedroom door. Geto was sitting on the edge of the bed, thighs spread slightly as obviously waiting for you to summon the courage to face whatever he had in store for you.

"C'mere," he patted his thigh and you gulped down the lump in your throat, closing the bedroom door behind you.

You kept your head down as you padded over to your boyfriend, his gaze completely blank as you perched your little ass on his strong thigh. He rested a hand over your thighs, the other holding at your hip.

You attempted to suck up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Suguru chuckled softly, "tryna suck up to me, princess?"

"No," you lie, averting your gaze and feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

"You know why I'm mad?" Suguru asks, raising a curious brow.

"No," you say again, this time the truth.

"Think about it, pretty."

You genuinely do, your brows furrowed in thought as you chew the inside of your cheek. Suguru's fingers draw little circles on the exposed skin of your thigh above your cute thigh-high socks and below the hem of your skirt.

"Did I drink too much?" You ask curiously.

"No," he tilts his head slightly, "keep thinking."

You pout, "I don't know, Sugu."

"Maybe I have to help you a little, hm?"

You nod quickly, eyes big and doe-like as you stare at him.

So cute, so naive.

Suguru gets you to stand up, turning you around as you stand between his legs before patting his thigh again. You give him a confused look and he chuckles lowly, "bend over, baby."

You make a little noise of protest, knowing what he's going to do. He doesn't offer you any sympathy and you do as you're told, leaning over his thighs and propping your ass up.

Suguru flips your skirt over your hips without a word, rubbing the back of your thigh with his large tattooed hand, his cold rings against your hot skin sending a shiver up your spine.

He wordlessly traces the tip of his finger around your exposed pussy lips and it finally dawns on you.

"Ringing any bells, princess?"

"M'sorry–!"

"Too late for sorry, pretty."

Suguru lands a hard smack! to your ass and you whimper, feeling your cunt pulse at the stinging pain. Another hard smack! and he soothes it by rubbing the reddened skin.

Sometimes Suguru doesn't know his own strength and judging by the angry welt already forming on your ass, you don't either.

But holy fuck, you love it.

You whine as Suguru lands another smack to your pretty ass, completely silent as he watches you struggle and wiggle away from his mean punishment of your poor ass.

But he knows you like it.

He can tell from the way your pussy glistens, slick slipping from your needy little hole. Suguru pressed the tip of his finger against your slit, rubbing your clit slightly.

You moan pathetically at the simple touch, thighs pressing and rubbing together as Suguru rubs tight circles on your little clit. You pant at the feeling, pushing your ass back onto his hand.

"What do you say?"

"M'sorry, Sugu– Please, I'm so sorry, I'll never do it again!" you whine out, panting slightly as tears prick at the corners of your eyes, mascara staining your under-eyes.

"Oh, you won't, huh?" He questions, rubbing his hand over your red-raw skin.

You shake your head, "mm-mm, I promise."

Suguru chuckles softly before pulling his fingers away from your cunt, earning a whine from your pretty lips. He forces you to stand between his legs, your thighs shaking and ass sore.

"Gonna do as you're told?"

"Mhm," you nod quickly.

Suguru slowly peels his jacket from your shoulders, letting it fall in a heap on the ground. His hands pull your top over your head, your arms flying up instinctually. He forces your skirt down your legs and over your ass, watching as you hiss and whine slightly at the tenderness.

"You're gonna sit on my face, baby," Suguru says after a beat.

Your eyes widen, "no, Sugu– it's so embarrassing."

"You're gonna do as you're told, hm?" He raises a brow and you whine, pressing your face against his broad shoulder. "Come on, baby. S'gonna feel good."

You pause for a moment before nodding, a pout pulling at your bottom lip. Suguru smirks devilishly, large hands on your hips to pull you close.

He plants a gentle kiss to your lips and you instantly melt into his touch. Suguru knows exactly what to do to get you to behave for him.

Suguru manhandles you onto the bed, peeling his shirt over his head and tugging your smaller frame onto him, forcing you to straddle his chest, your hands planted on the bed beside his thighs.

"Sugu... this is so embarrassing..."

Suguru kisses your reddened thighs, his spit shining against your skin in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Your forehead falls against his rock-hard abs when he presses a wet kiss to your glistening pussy, immediately tasting your sweet arousal.

You whine at the feeling, hands curling into the sheets as Suguru licks at your clit, his arms curling under your thighs and thumbs pulling your pussy lips apart.

"There she is," Suguru groans, voice low as he flicks his tongue over your clit before dragging his tongue up your slit to dip into your awaiting hole.

"Sugu– Please–!" You moan and cry pathetically as Suguru tongue-fucks you, forcing your ass down onto his face.

He pulls away after a moment, landing another smack! to your ass. You whine at the sting.

"Go on, princess. Use that pretty mouth of yours," he encourages, slightly grinding the bulge in his pants against the side of your face.

Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle his belt, pulling the faux leather from his belt loops and throwing it haphazardly onto the floor. You slowly unzip his pants and he helps you wiggle them down his thighs, leaving you to stare at the intimidating bulge of his hard cock in his boxers.

Suguru continues his assault on your poor pussy, purposefully teasing you by avoiding your swollen clit and kitten-licking at your clenching hole.

You eye his cock, always intimidated by the piercings in his dick pressing against the fabric of his boxers. Suguru has the underside of his dick pierced from the base to the tip and he loves to watch your face as your tight hole catches on each barbell.

You shakily pull his cock from his boxers, barely able to fit your hand around the entire thickness of it. The mushroom tip is red and leaky with precum, your mouth watering at the sight.

You kitten-lick at his tip, moaning at the musky taste of his cum. You nervously take the tip in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and gathering all your saliva into your cheeks, letting it dribble messily down his length.

Suguru groans against your exposed cunt, never getting tired of having your mouth wrapped around his big cock.

He presses his fingers against your hole, pushing two fingers into your tightness and chuckling softly at how your eager pussy greedily sucks his fingers in.

"Mm– Feels s'good," you whine, hand slowly dragging up and down Suguru's cock now wet with your saliva.

"Told you you'd like it," he retorts, finger-fucking you as you push your ass and hips back to meet the thrust of his fingers.

"Mm– I wanna cum s'bad," you moan.

"Not yet, princess. Haven't even had my cock down your throat yet," Suguru pulls his fingers from your cunt, pressing them to his lips to taste your sweetness and you whine in protest.

You take a breath before taking Suguru's cock into your mouth, back arching as Suguru toys with your clit. You inch your mouth further down his cock, dribbling spit everywhere as your lips graze over each piercing threaded through his cock.

"S'good, baby," Suguru grunts, hips involuntarily bucking into your mouth, forcing you to gag on his tip.

Your hands clutch his strong thighs, Suguru's arms wrap around your lower back, forcing your pussy down onto his mouth as you take as much of his cock into your mouth as you can, fist curling around what you can't fit.

You bob your head slowly, tongue swirling around the tip on your way up and lying flat on the way down. You moan around his cock when Suguru bucks his hips again, tip hitting the back of your throat.

"Good fucking girl," Suguru praises as he fucks your face, mouth lewdly slurping up your arousal.

You feel your belly start to burn and you know Suguru can tell you're about to cum with how your cunt spasms and your hips grind messily against his mouth.

He pulls away and you whine around his cock, "do you deserve to cum, baby?"

You bob your head on his cock, "mm–"

"I don't think you do," Suguru bucks his hips up, "fuck–"

Suguru pulls his cock from your mouth with a pop, his cock twitching as hot ropes of cum spill from the tip, painting your face with his cum.

You sit up, ass pressed to Suguru's chest as you peer over your shoulder at him, one eye forced closed as his cum drips down your cheek.

"Aw, sweet girl," Suguru coos, sitting up and forcing you between his legs, reaching for his shirt to wipe the cum off your face. "You did s'good."

"Sugu–" you whine, thighs pressing together.

"You wanna cum?" Suguru holds your chin in his hand.

You nod quickly, "I-I'll be good."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm, I promise, please, please–"

God, he can't deny you when you're begging.

Suguru lies back on the bed, his hand resting behind his head, strong and thick tattooed arms flexing as he does. He smirks at you before reaching a hand out for you.

"Fuck yourself on my cock then, baby."

You take his hand, thighs shaky as you straddle his hips. You reach a hand underneath you to guide his tip to your sopping hole. You sigh at the feeling, his tip stretching you open.

"That's my girl," Suguru praises, a hand resting on your hip to help guide you down on his cock.

The piercings along the underside of his cock catch against your tight hole, making you whine and gasp with every drag of the jewellery against your gummy walls.

"S'big, Sugu," you cry, hands planted on his abdomen and nails scraping against the taut skin.

You whine once you fully seat yourself on his cock, your belly bulges at the fullness and Suguru presses his hand to the bump in your belly, pressing down on it and forcing a choked moan from your throat.

Your back arches and you feel like you're about to cum without Suguru even fucking you. You cockwarm him for several seconds before Suguru scoffs, wraps his hands over your thighs and fucks his cock up into you.

You scream out at the feeling, his tip fucking against your cervix. You bounce on his cock, fucking yourself absolutely stupid on his thickness.

Your slick coats his cock, a white ring forming around the base of his cock with how hard and fast he's fucking up into you. Your thighs quiver as you bounce, your muscles sore and weak and surely going to fucking kill in the morning.

"That's it, doing so good," Suguru presses his rough thumb against your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hard bud as your slick coats his balls and his pelvis.

"M'gonna cum!" you whine out, bouncing hard on his cock as your belly burns.

"Cum f'me, princess."

You cum with a choked moan, coating Suguru's cock, his thighs and the sheets with your orgasm.

Suguru bucks up into you through your high, his cock prodding at your cervix and piercings dragging against your gummy walls, making you fucking dizzy with pleasure.

You fall against his chest with a huff, panting and sweating, bodies sticky and clammy from your little marathon.

Suguru pets your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, cock still snug in your cunt. He runs his fingertips down your back, soothing you and bringing you back down to earth as you curl your fists against his chest.

"You didn't wear panties on purpose, huh?"

You smile against his chest, "maybe."

author's note: had to repost cus tumblr was being DUMB >:|

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #x reader #jjk smut #geto #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader smut #suguru geto smut #jjk x reader smut #geto smut

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poguehearted77 · 3 months ago

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Co-Star Confessions

Pairing: Actress! Reader x Drew Starkey

Co-Star Confessions-> The cast takes you along on a trip to take a lie detector test for an interview. The jokes are rolling and the tea starts to spill.

Summary: A lie detector, a dark room, and unspoken tension pull you into a whirlwind of revelations, where secrets are spilled, emotions run high, and your growing romance with Drew becomes impossible to hide.

Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series

These can be read in any order!

"Okay be honest, who else went on a deep dive of doom last night and watched all of Blackbox's previous interviews?" Madelyn turns from her place in the passenger seat, facing you, Madison and Chase so you can hear her question clearly.

All hands go up. The anticipation is high and circling in the car. Today the cast has split up into two cars as you're being shipped off to another studio to record an interview with Blackbox.

"Some of those questions were brutal, and you're hooked up to a lie detector so there's no chance you can avoid the truth." Chase lets out a weighted breath, his mind running off with the possible questions they could ask. There's a small sprout of fear blossoming around the possibility they'll pry open closed doors about his and Madelyn's break up.

The concept is simple: Prior to the interview, Blackbox has done their own research and collected some surface-level, intermediate, and mildly invasive questions that the fans of the show are circulating online. One by one, the cast will sit in the empty black room with no one but the polygrapher and a lie detector, the questions get asked and if you're telling the truth you get a point, if you're lying you lose a point.

The castmate with the most points at the end gets to ask any co-star any question of their choice.

"I can't believe I let Madison drag me into this." You scoff and all she does is smile bright and innocent. It took some convincing of the producers but she's very persuasive when she needs to be.

"We're family now. If we go down, so do you." Chase holds your hand and gives it a condescending squeeze. "I take that as a threat." You snatch your hand away and everyone laughs.

As you arrived, it seems the car with Carlacia, Drew and JD had beat you guys there. Their driver was already pulling off the lot, telling you the others were inside. You got out of the car behind Chase and adjusted your clothes.

Today, your stylists had picked out a white long-sleeve shirt layered under a sleek black vest, paired with a gray mini skirt, black sheer tights, a small shoulder bag, delicate gold acccesories, and a sleek pulled-back pony-tail for a perfectly polished look.

You could already hear the chatter from the studio from out in the hall as you entered the room behind Madison, more chatter erupting as the full cast is reunited. You did your rounds to greet the others you hadn't been riding with. "You look great," Drew compliments as he briefly rests his head atop yours during your hug. You fit in his arms as perfectly as a puzzle.

His pathetic instincts allowed him to take a deeper breath to get a stronger pull of your gentle perfume that intoxicated his mind. "I don't remember getting a compliment from you this morning!" Carlacia accuses him playfully and he laughs along before flattering her endlessly and you thought it was cute.

There’s no denying it. From the very beginning, you and Drew have danced around the unspoken tension, the sparks that have lingered just beneath the surface. But lately, those sparks have started to feel dangerous, like a fuse waiting to ignite. The two of you can’t be left alone for long—what starts as two chairs between you inevitably narrows to one, and then, before you realize it, none at all.

One second you're both rehearsing lines in the studio-b trailer and the next you're passed out on the couch side-by-side. Even though that only happened once, it was more than enough. You've blown through nearly two-thirds of filming the final season and it was easy to consider Drew one of your closest friends, both on and off-set.

There were late-night phone calls, early morning face-times, minimal texting since he hardly replied to his messages but lots of heated glances that shouldn't make you feel as hot as they did. Like right now.

Madelyn is currently removing a piece of lint that had fallen onto your hair from god knows where, meanwhile, you pretended you couldn't feel Drew's deep gaze from behind Madelyn's head, but you shook it off. You had to.

It wasn't long before you're all being ushered to take your seats in the black room, getting ready to record your introduction which will be the only time the whole cast is in the black room together for the interview.

"We're the cast of Outer Banks and welcome to Blackbox." You all say, introducing yourselves personally then retreating to the holding room where there are five chairs, a one-way glass looking into the black room and a microphone.

The assistants spun a wheel which decided that JD is the first one up on the chopping block. "Keep the questions pg-13, please. I've got family that's gonna see this." He pleads, letting himself be strapped into the chair and hooked up with the various components of the detector. Meanwhile, you took the seat in the holding room between Carlacia and Drew.

"So he really can't see us?" Madelyn questioned, waving to JD through the window, but he was unresponsive. "All he sees is a mirror, but when you use the microphone, he can hear your voice in the speakers in the room." One of the cameramen explains and you all nod along.

"Okay, Madelyn, you're first to read the questions. Pick up one cue card from the surface-level, intermediate and invasive stack and project your voice into the mic." She's directed but you all listen for when it's your turn.

Madelyn: "JD, What's your favourite memory from filming season 5 Outer Banks so far?"

He jolts a little in his seat, not expecting to hear Madelyn's voice so clearly in a room where he can't see her, but he answers nonetheless.

JD: When Chase and I were rehearsing that scene where we have to hang-glide off a cliff but Chase's hands slipped and he misses the bar, and he just goes falling to the foam platform like twenty feet below us, but it wasn't even that. It was the scream he let out. I still think about it.

"He's telling the truth." The woman informs.

Chase has his head in his hands while you and Carlacia hold onto eachother, laughing until you're gasping for air.

Madelyn picks up the top cue card from the intermediate pile.

Madelyn: Which castmate are you closest to?

"Oooh." There's a collective sound that sweeps across the studio, it made everyone uneasy, not because of the question. It's a difficult question and everyone knows there are no hard feelings involved but if this is an intermediate question then you should all be nervous.

JD sighs, "You know what-- Unstrap me." He pretends to grab at the wires and it elicits a round of laughs while he thinks about it.

JD: This is hard. I feel like I have such a different relationship with everyone, but..... uhhh... If I had to narrow it down, I guess probably Madelyn.

There's a long silence, everyone waiting for the polygrapher to confirm or deny. "He's telling the truth."

Madelyn: "It must be fate that I'm the one asking your questions. Luv ya. Now, for your final, invasive question. You recently implied in an interview that you're seeing someone, is that true?"

Your hands clasp over your mouth. "Brutal," Carlacia whispers under her breath while you and Drew lean over the edge of your seats as if you didn't already know the answer to this question.

"No." He denies it, another stomach-churning silence. You can see the nerves rolling down JD's face as he waits for the results. "That was a lie." The crew is making some indistinct noise while the cast is stunned to silence. None of you were going to make it out of this interview alive.

JD's head falls with a guilty grin, dreading the news this would spread in the press. He almost immediately unlatches himself from the machine and enters the waiting room with the rest of you, sending in Chase.

"That shit is intense. It's just so dark, and ominous, and you've got a spotlight on you. Makes you feel like you're on trial for a crime you didn't commit." Drew stands to give him a pat on the back, "You did good, man. Hopefully Maya isn't too blindsided by that last question."

Maya is JD's secret girlfriend, official as of last month, you've met her a handful of times but you clicked almost instantly and often texted on Instagram and shared reels.

The game went on, and the questions didn't get any easier. You watched as you all trickled in and out of the rooms, getting paired off in an order something like this:

Madelyn asking JD

Drew asking Chase

Carlacia asking Madelyn

Chase asking Y/N

Y/N asking Madison

Madison asking Carlacia

JD asking Drew

There's an acrylic nail poking your shoulder and you shudder. "You're up," Carlacia informs you and you nearly vomit. The questions have been ruthless thus far, you honestly wonder how and why the producers approved this.

"Hey Madison, this is for you." You hold up your middle fingers, regretting ever letting her get you involved in this bloodbath. She blows you a kiss and wishes you luck.

Chase: "Y/n-"

You're not sure what it is about it, but you and Chase have had enough bloopers on set, that this felt no different, even though you couldn't see him, you broke out in laughter. Before the mic cut out you heard Chase's abrupt laughter cut through.

This is how you two always were. Unable to keep it together. The directors hated when you had a scene together (even though they'd laugh too). "Okay okay, I'm sorry. I'm ready." You reassure, "That was a lie", The polygrapher debunks your confession and it sends everyone rolling for another five minutes due to its spontaneity.

"Okay. For real this time." You clear your throat, waiting for Chase to start with the questions.

Chase: "If you weren’t acting, what would your job be?"

"Ooh, I love photography, my phone is always gonna be in your face, and I've got like a dozen cameras. So, probably a photographer." You answer. The question is light, but it doesn't erase the uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach. "True."

Chase prepares to move on to the intermediate stack of cards, shuffling them, just for fun.

"Here we go," Madison leans over to JD, they both knew there were bound to be some wild cards for you and Drew. Ever since your casting as Piper was made public not too long ago, the fans immediately flocked to find all your socials.

The rumours between you and Drew were already starting to spin. All stemming from one photo added to one of Carlacia's many photo dumps a few weeks ago. The image is of you playfully feeding Drew a strawberry from when you'd all done some sightseeing and visited the local Portuguese farms.

Chase: "Fans noticed you recently reposted a TikTok that said, 'When he’s tall enough to climb like a tree>>'—was that just for laughs, or did you have someone in mind?"

Your hands raise to your face and you scream, Madison screams, JD laughs, Madelyn kicks her feet while Carlacia gasps--Simply put, the cast is overcome.

Drew straightens a little, now more intrigued than ever (as if he wasn't before). His eyes sparkle with hope? Interest? Certainty. A subtle wave of confidence runs down his spine as he confirms to himself that you're talking about him. You both know it, and you've never been so glad that you couldn't see his face.

"My TikTok account is private how did they even-?!"

Chase: "Answer the question Ms. Y/n."

You could hear his smirk through the mic. Oh, he was enjoying this too much. You made a mental reminder to send Kelsea all the worst images that you've taken of him. "It was just for fun," you shrug.

"That was a lie", You knew it was coming, honestly, but at least you tried.

Chase: "You've recently been cast as the lead in a new rom-com called The Love Equation set to release in 2026, congratulations."

Chase prefaces the question with the recent news that was unveiled to the public merely a few days ago. It was a very recent endeavour of yours.

Not long after you started filming for Outer Banks, you'd received a call back from this project and filming was set to start a little after the OBX premiere which is a little less than three months away.

"Thank you, thank you. I'm very excited and grateful for the opportunity." You say, pretending you weren't dreading the question that's soon to follow. Chase's flattery made you nervous, regardless if he was just reading what was on the card.

Chase: If you could pick any castmate to star alongside you in a rom-com, who would you pick?"

Drew's jaw locks at the question. His grip on the arm of the chair tightens subconsciously as he watches your every move. From the way you looked up at the ceiling, pretending to think to your left foot pacing an unsteady rhythm.

All while Madison was watching Drew, a small smile creeping up on her lips. She needed no further confirmation from the two of you, your body language was loud enough. To her, at least.

"Drew." You say nothing more, nothing less. You don't want to fan the flames that fans have already sparked to life from a simple picture. "She's telling the truth." Yeah, obviously, but you don't say that out loud.

The time seems to fly now that your turn had passed and finally, it's Drew's turn. Deep down you've been waiting for this all day, but if you're being honest, you're a little scared for him.

Drew has one of the biggest and most blunt fanbases of the cast. You've seen how they can get sometimes, you've read the TikTok comments and seen the X threads. Hopefully, nothing gets taken out of context or blown out of proportion.

JD: "What’s your favorite way to unwind after a long day of filming?"

His lips pucker a little in thought, and it dawned on him. "I recently got gifted like, an ungodly amount of bubble bath, but I've actually been using them lately. So, I'll say a nice, hot bath, yeah."

The polygrapher confirms that his statement is in fact true and the round progresses.

JD: "If you had to be stuck on an island with one of your castmates for 24 hours, who would you pick—and what would you two do to pass the time?"

Drew fights the grin on his face, "I'd say Chase, we would go hang-gliding-" He's hardly able to get the sentence out before he's interrupted by his own cackles.

Chase adds his own thoughts into the mic, "You know what, Drew, fuck you, okay?" Chase states before returning to his seat while Drew chokes over his laughs to deliver an insincere apology. "That was true." The room erupts with more laughter at that.

JD: "Your final, invasive question, have you ever secretly dated or hooked up with someone from a movie/show you've worked on, including this one?"

The entire studio goes pin-drop silent. Madison's hand reaches out to hold yours, for comfort, or maybe support? Your eyes are glued to the window that shows a nervous Drew, the most nervous you'd ever seen him. He's starting to sweat.

The two of you have never hooked up, but now you're curious. You would get to find out if he's gotten involved with other girls he's worked with before. Was everything he did just an act? Was it a thing he did with everyone?

"I have not." He answers.

There's silence.

The polygrapher is doing it on purpose, you're sure of it.

...

....

........

JD turns around to face you all and whispers, "Guys, I'm literally shaking for him. Look!" He held out his hand with the card, and it showed a true reflection of his words.

"That is..." She drags out the verdict.

The anticipation got so bad you've all somehow ended up standing, you all might as well press your noses up against the glass.

"True."

The cheering is loud when it swallows the holding room. It's almost shameful how much of a weight you felt lifted off your shoulders at the declaration. Drew is the only one to have told the truth for all three questions, giving him 3 points. He wins.

"Now, Drew. You get to ask any co-star any question you'd like." One of the crewmates instructs as they had you all lined up in the room under Drew's judgement. He stalked along, looking everyone in the eyes, yours lasted a little longer than he was willing to admit but he eventually stopped on Madison.

"Madison, Madison, Madison." Drew taunted in the mic and she rolled her eyes with an all-knowing grin.

Drew: "Not too long ago you were disrespecting my childhood delicacy, the uncrustable. Now, there are rumours going around that you've been seen with them lately, is it true?"

Small giggles were let out around the room. Drew is unbelievable.

"Yes." Madison whispers, looking off to the side.

Drew: What was that? I'll need you to speak up.

Madison: Yes! It's true. Satisfied?

Drew: Very. No further questions, your honour.

You all film the closing sequence, reminding the audience the final season will be released on Netflix on August 30th and September 25th, 2025.

You're all making your way out to the cars. The original groups naturally switched up as you all jumped into the car with people you were in conversations with as you left the studio. This time it's you, Drew, JD and Madelyn.

"Wow, that was lowkey worse than I thought it was going to be." JD admits from the passenger seat and you snicker. Without even realizing it, your head was laying on Drew's shoulder, feeling the sleepiness begin to settle in after an eventful afternoon.

"All that drama genuinely drained the energy from my body." You yawn, and Drew subtly shifts so that you'd find more comfort in him, and you snuggle up just a little more. This is a feeling he could get used to.

Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,@willowpains, @riaras-everthroner, @iteuosav

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vaguely-concerned · 9 months ago

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I understand and agree with a lot of the frustrations about the shortcomings of Inquisition as a story. but sometimes when I hear people complain about the chosen one narrative in it I do want to just be like... you know it's a deconstruction of the concept more than anything, right. the inquisitor isn't actually chosen by anything except stumbling into the wrong (right?) room at the right (wrong?) time because they like, heard a noise or whatever. or if you think they are chosen, as many do in-universe, that's something you have to take on faith, the maker-or-whoever moves in mysterious ways indeed-style. the Inquisitor isn't actually a Destined Chosen One, they're a Just Some Guy in a fancy hat, self-delusions of grandeur to taste as you'd prefer.

a running thread that goes through all of the personal quests of the companions is the concept of a comforting lie vs. an uncomfortable truth, upholding old corrupt structures vs. disrupting them, and the role of faith in navigating that. (blackwall the warden vs. thom rainier the liar and murderer. hissrad vs. the iron bull, or is that the other way around? cassandra and the seekers -- do we tell the truth about what we find, even if it means dismantling the old order of the world? and so on.) and your inquisitor IS at the same time a comforting lie (a necessary one, in dark times? the game seems to ask) and an uncomfortable truth (we are the result of random fickle chance, no protective hand is held over the universe, it's on us to make a better world because the maker sure as hell won't lift a divine finger to help anyone, should he against all odds exist). faith wielded for political power... where's the point that it crosses the line into ugliness? is it before it even begins? what's the alternative? will anyone listen to the truth, if you tell it?

interesting how you also get a mix of companion agency in this -- you have characters like dorian who ALWAYS choose one side of the comforting lie vs. uncomfortable truth dichotomy. he will always make up his own mind to go back to tevinter and try to dismantle the corruption of the old system no matter what you say, or how you try to influence him. meanwhile iron bull is on the complete opposite side of the spectrum -- so psychologically trapped and mangled, caught in an impossible spiritual catch-22, that his sense of identity is left entirely to you and your mercy. you cannot change dorian in any way that matters; you can be his friend or not, support him or not, but he is whole no matter what. you are given incredible and potentially destructive-to-him power over bull's soul. it's really cool (and heartbreaking) to think about.

this is a game about how history will eat you even while you're still alive, and shape you into whatever image it pleases to serve it, and for all your incredible power right now you are powerless in the face of the gravitational force of time -- of more than time, of History. you won't recognize yourself in what History will make of you, because you belong to it now. you don't belong to yourself anymore and you never will again. the further you were from what it needs from you to begin with, the more you will find yourself distorted in its funhouse mirror. (why hello there inquisitor ameridan, same hat!)

and to me this is so much the core of what Dragon Age is about right from the Origins days -- how and by whom history gets written, the inherent unreliable narration of it all. I hope you like stories, Inquisitor. You are one now.

I do think it's probably still the weakest of the games narratively, and it's hampered by its structure and bloated systems. but I also find it disingenous to say that there's nothing deeper or actually interesting going on with it, thematically. if you're willing to engage with it there is Some Real Shit going on under the high fantasy-tinted surface.

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #it's so weird to have been around long enough to see the 'worst of the series!!' sentiment change targets from da2 to da:i haha #I was a 'da2 rules' truther before it was cool and by god I am a 'da:i does some cool shit' defender now that she's fallen from grace #I am an underdog supporter at heart I suppose #dragon age meta #meta #baby I'm yet again thinking insane galaxy brain thoughts about adoribull as thematic mirrors it's good to be back #I was never truly off my bullshit but I am completely back on it again now

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appocalipse · 7 months ago

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the same thing ・❥・b. barnes

summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You should be resting."

You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."

A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."

He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.

"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.

He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.

You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."

You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."

Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.

Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?

Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm hungry?"

"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"

Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.

"Hm?"

Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."

"I'll live."

"It was stupid."

"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"

Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.

"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.

"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You were shot."

"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.

It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.

Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.

You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.

"How bad is it?"

"Huh?" you sound deliberately casual. Too casual. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."

There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.

Or maybe just not to Bucky.

"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"

"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.

"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."

Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they had?"

"Then I would have died!"

Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"You think I want that?" he asks softly.

"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."

A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.

"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."

"It would never be better if you were hurt."

"Bucky—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"

"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."

The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"

He just looks at you for a long moment.

Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.

"You kill me."

Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"

"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."

Oh.

"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"

"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.

You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.

"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."

You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.

"But I do."

"Do...what?" you whisper.

"Want you."

It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."

His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."

Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.

You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."

You really want to kiss him right now.

It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.

"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."

"How so?"

"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"

"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"

Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.

You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.

You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.

His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.

"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"

Bucky just smiles against your skin.

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entitled-fangirl · 11 months ago

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One happy marriage.

Benedict Bridgerton x wife!reader

Summary: the reader lies about something important and finally breaks down to tell her husband about it.

Masterlist

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"I have started our marriage with the most audacious lie, Benedict!"

He looked up from his sketchbook with a curious look, "Whatever are you talking about, my dear?"

Y/N covered her mouth with a quiet sob. The lie was eating at her every day and she knew sooner or later the truth would reveal itself. Too bad she revealed it on her own.

Benedict frowned and stood quickly. He raced towards her and sat down cautiously on the sofa next to her. One arm gently pulled her to him, "Darling? I'm sure whatever it is can be forgiven."

She shook her head quickly and spoke through hiccups, "No…. It's unspeakable. Pl… please don't leave me."

This started to worry the poor man.

His hands gently ran up and down her arms, "I promise you, my dear. Whatever has happened, we will be as we are now."

She pulls away from him and wipes her eyes. "I am so sorry, Benedict."

He felt his heart break at the sight of her tears and pleads. "You must tell me what has troubled you this badly."

She shakes her head again, "I don't know if I can."

Benedict sighs.

He was a Bridgerton. And Bridgertons are nothing if not stubborn.

He gently takes her face in his hands. "How then, darling, am I to help fix this issue if I do not know of it?"

She stared up at him. How could she deny him? He was her heart. "I… I have lied to you so dreadfully."

He nods in thought, "Alright?"

She takes a deep breath, "I am an artist."

Benedict's head tilts. "Oh."

She looks up at him to gauge his reaction. "When we were courting, you asked if I was an artist. I said no. I… I lied to you."

He nods again with his lips in a tight line, "Yes. So you did."

She felt awful.

Silence fell over the two before Benedict broke it, "And your work?"

Her head perked up. "My work?"

He gave a slight smirk, "Yes, my dear, your work."

She nodded, "The… the paintings in the parlor… I lied. I do not collect them… I ma... I made all of those."

Benedict smiled widely. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned forward and kissed the crown of her head, "I know."

She stiffened. "What?"

He leaned back and his smile only grew, "I knew, darling. I've always known. I was waiting for you to tell me."

Now it was her turn to feel a bit speechless.

Benedict continued, "I understand why you lied. Those pieces are gorgeous, and the last thing you wanted was your courter... well... your husband... to feel… lowly of his own work-"

"-but your work is lovely, Ben." She quickly interrupted.

"Ah, yes, but not like yours, my dear."

"But how did you know?"

He shrugged, "John Marques is not a real painter." He leaned close to her ear, "And yet, his name is on every plaque in the house."

She let out a laugh so happy, Benedict swore he had never heard one that matched.

She jumped into his lap and held him close.

And he was beyond happy to hold her so near.

He pulled away just to kiss her.

They could feel each other's smiles as their lips pressed together.

She broke away, just close enough to feel his breath on her lips, "And you truly aren't upset at me?"

He laughed, "How could I be? My very own wife, a most talented painter? How on earth could I ever be upset? I'm the happiest husband in the ton!"

Two artists make one happy marriage.

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#fanfiction #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x y/n

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candyskiez · 4 months ago

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God no seriously I love liars. I love when characters want their lie to be real. I love when characters didn't think this lie would be that serious, when they think it's just a little white lie that's worth it and that's helping even. I love when the lie gets wildly out of control and endangers everyone else in the process. I love when they're so so guilty over it and yet they can't say it, can't make themselves, too afraid of the consequences. I love when they're extremely aware of how wrong it is and still they can't admit it.

I love when characters make part of their identity being a liar. I love when characters openly admit that you can't trust what they say. Why do they? Bragging? Warning them? Just being self aware? I love when the character with a reputation for lying is trying to tell the truth and nobody believes them, and they have nobody to blame but themselves. I love when they lie so much not even they know what's under the act. I love when they don't know what's acting and what's not, when lying is just a habit for them.

I love characters who have begun to believe their own lie. Maybe they started with lying to themselves before they even said it to anyone else. Maybe they need this lie so they don't fall apart. Maybe it's all that's keeping them from breaking under reality. Maybe they take any attempt to confront them with the truth as a personal attack, because why would you make them face that. Maybe they've forgotten the truth. Maybe they never knew the truth at all. Maybe the lie was just the closest possible answer they could think of. How much are they a liar and how much are they just a person who was wrong? Where's the line?

I love liars. There are so many ways you can take their character and I will always lose my shit over it.

#reigen arataka #arataka reigen #jasper (oc)#kokichi ouma #sunny omori #basil omori #I LOVE LIARS!!! gotta be one of my favorite genders

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theblacklewinsky · 2 months ago

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Note: getting off these drafts. btw i heard kelvin's next 😮‍💨

DILEMMA. | Aaron Pierre.

Rich! Terry Richmond x Black! Female Reader.

Warnings: MDNI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( fingering (fem receiving), penetrat!on (unprotected p in v, don't do that!), water sports, slapping/hitting, degradation), extreme language (cursing, use of b-word and others.) angst, guilt (you're a cheater, bitch) slight daddy kink if you squint. Not proofread. Terry referred to as Terrell.

Summary: in which an engaged woman and a rich man fall into a heavy affair, she's hesitant.

i be so in love with your girlfriend,

and she loves it too, and i love it too

when we rendezvous, we get comfortable.

"yeah, I miss you too," you cooed softly into the phone, your stomach churning at how honest your voice sounded despite your despicable actions.

You probably would've meant it if it were any other day, if you were any other place. Maybe if you were actually in London, like you told your fiancé you'd be before you landed in Toronto, you'd mean it. But every time you came back to this country—the city rather, you never meant it.

Your truths given to another man all at once, that you had no choice but to lie to the man you'd planned to spend the rest of your life with. You looked at the blinging engagement ring on your left hand and grimaced. You halfway listened to the man muttering on the other end of the phone and half of your attention, scoured through your head as you paced the small area of the hotel balcony you were standing on.

"Alright, babe," he hummed on the other line, "just wanted to make sure you landed alright, I love you."

You shuddered at how genuine he sounded. You loved him back too—but even you battled with that sentiment, you had another man making his way up to the hotel room in a country you weren't even supposed to be in.

Maybe if you'd forgiven him for all those mistakes he made over the course of your relationship—maybe if you went to counseling like your parents and friends advised you to you wouldn't be sneaking off on the love of your life.

"I love you too, baby," you feigned a smile, hoping that he could hear how genuine you tried to be, "can I call you back later? Everyone's checking in right now."

He subtly agreed with you on the other end, telling you to call him back later when you settled in before ending the call. Thank god for your job. Had you not been a flight attendant, this shit probably would've been a little harder to pull off.

That was the issue though, is that all this shit was getting harder to pull off. You loved your fiance, sure, but you were in love with Terrell. And that was never supposed to happen.

None of this was supposed to happen.

Six months ago you were supposed to go on a quick girls trip with your homegirls. Nowhere too far, but nowhere too close. So it was decided upon on Toronto. You'd been to Toronto countless times before on layovers and international flights, which is how you knew about how lively the city was. You and a few of your favorite coworkers leaving the hotel on the few nights you spent there, hitting up the clubs and after hour bars.

But you weren't supposed to meet Terry.

There you and your homegirls went, all strutting through Revival as if it wasn't the biggest club in Toronto. You'd been here once before, briefly with a few coworkers, but you still gawked how lovely it was. Looked straight out of a Vegas strip catalogue, and who owned that very busy, popular club? Terrell indeed.

Having drinks being sent to you and your homegirls section. And not just little shots—you had a bottle of Louis XIII sent to your table by a gorgeous bottle girl, you and your homegirls gaped at her. Who the fuck and how the fuck were yall about to pay for a $4,000 bottle of cognac? But she set your fears aside, claiming that it on the house, and was from the boss.

You and your homegirls bristled in happiness after that. Where the fuck was the boss on your first visit here? But nevertheless, you chalked it up to the people of Toronto being courteous to tourists. Up until you met Terrell on the dance floor. Oh, and you didn't fuck around when it came to that, you were two years fresh out of college, your party days were not behind you.

You thought he was simple club goer too, just finding you on the dance floor and making conversation, shouting in each other's ears over the music. He was handsome of course, eyes piercing, tall, full lips, dressed in nothing but designer. It wasn't until he asked you if you and homegirls liked the bottle of LOUIS XIII he sent to your section, that your slightly intoxicated mind put the dots together. You thanked him profusely, and told him how much all of you were enjoying his club.

And although he seemed happy to hear that, he seemed happier to know what exactly only you had planned after this. You'd been out the game so long you'd forgot what flirting looked like, but even you knew this was flirting. You told him about your Fiancé, and that seemed to slightly deter him (not really) but somehow you and your homegirls still managed to take turns hanging out the sunroof of his Mercedes Benz as he ripped through the streets of Toronto after the club closed.

And that was six months ago.

And within those six months you'd visited Toronto more times than you could remember, without coworkers, and without your homegirls, and simply with Terry.

At first it was fun. Harmless fun, you thought. Here you were, a man with far too much money fawning over you. You were far too loyal (at the time) to give him your number, and instead had given him your moderately sized instagram. There he damn near never missed a story, constant heart eyes, constant attention. Attention and flirting your man hadn't given to you since he courted you. That weakened you.

Before you knew it you were on constant first class flights from your city to Toronto, constant sex and low key outings were you and Terry's favorite pastimes when you did come for your brief visits.

But over the next few months you'd became invested. The little gifts had become more meaningful. Once just flowers, and cards and small designer items had become more than just materialistic and more like keepsakes. You cherished them. And although nothing had been concrete in your little affair, you assumed it was all through good fun. Here this man was, older, rich, single and fine—he could pick any single woman in Toronto, but he chose you. Engaged, committed. So maybe he knew he didn't have to commit?

You remembered the way he didn't even flinch when you told him you were engaged to be married, he simply just kept his lingering gaze on you and apologized. The conversation seemingly still seemed to flow, and he still asked you to ride with him afterward. You, not willing to leave your homegirls, and disrespect your engagement (at the time, slut) agreed, under the condition that your homegirls rode too.

Yet, here you were now. Riding him alone. And as bad as you wanted to cut it off, a part of you, bigger than you'd wanted to admit, didn't want to. You liked how free you felt with him, how natural and different things felt. How cherished you felt.

You hadn't even realized that he'd came in, finally, it was his hotel suite after all, paid and reserved for by him. But he was courteous enough to tell the Ritz Carlton front desk employees that his girlfriend would be arriving before him, securing you a keycard of your own.

"How long you got?"

You jumped at the sound of his voice shaking you from your own wandering mind, eyes flickering over to Terry leaning on the frame of the open sliding door. You understood his absence of pleasantries and greetings, y'all were way past that.

He looked so handsome though, per usual. He was always dressed to T's. Even now, black durag adorning his head, a black long sleeved Under Armor compression shirt enhanced his already perfect physique, a pair of matching compression pants under the mismatch Nike basketball shorts he wore. Or maybe he just made everything he wore look good.

"Two days," you said slowly hands gripping the railing of the balcony, averting your attention back out onto the view of downtown Toronto in front of you.

A small bout of silence stretched between the two of you, the air charged with a little bit of everything. Sexual tension, apprehension, passion—like always. But, your hesitance and distance added onto that, and Terry could feel that.

You sighed in contentment against him when he wrapped his broad arms around your waist, pressing your shorter frame into his from behind. His lips finding that sweet spot just behind your ear. "You good?" He mumbled against your skin, persisting kisses there.

You rested your head against his lowered shoulder, his face tucked into the crook of your neck as you hesitantly answered him, giving him a small "yes". To which he knew wasn't true.

And in his mind when you were with him, thinking was void. That's why he handled everything, from the travel, to the hotels, to the outings. He made sure he was your escape. He knew the wifely duties you had back in the states, cooking, cleaning, working—that's the shit your main man put you through. He didn't.

He could tell the night met you, you needed a well deserved break. You seemed tense from the moment he approached you, he literally watched it all melt away during the duration of your conversation, you were already pretty, too pretty. But you looked even prettier when you were relaxed. So, that's what he strived to see.

"What you thinkin' about, mama?" He hummed against your already hot flesh. "You know I don't condone that shit."

You laughed at how serious he sounded, prompting him to chuckle right behind you. You raised your shoulder from his head, craning your head up at his now lifted frame behind yours with furrowed brows, "you don't condone that? Me thinking?"

"You know that," he casually responded, "why you think I handle everything? You do that shit back home with that nigga. Here, I don't need all that." He mumbled before using his opposing hand to tap lightly against your temple, softly kissing your lips.

And that was the problem. Him handling everything. Not wanting you to think and enjoy your time together. That's what made you feel free, that's what had you feeling all types of feelings about him. But you couldn't voice that, just staring back up at him with that dazed stare you gave him every time he kissed you.

You didn't speak until he led you back into the spacious suite, back to the bedroom where the huge king bed was that you belly flopped on when you first arrived. You didn't speak until he started removing the Swarvorski pumps he'd bought you on your last visit, grasping your left ankle and lifting it up to his lips, pressing summer kisses up your calves. You teeth sinker into your bottom lip, watching him as he watched you. Everything else melted away for a moment. Just a moment though.

"Terrell," you huffed as your thoughts overcrowded your mind again, jerking your leg away from his lips, though it still remained secure in his grasp, "this is wrong." If only your fiancé hadn't called and ruined the very sexy mood you were in, you could do this. You would've done this.

Terry recoiled at the reference of his real name with you, and the fact that you were back with this again. He hadn't heard those three words up until the third month, and here you hear three months later singing the same tune again. He sat your leg down gently, getting up from his kneeled position on the floor. "Nah, don't start that," he firmly replied joining you on the bed in one swift motion. Pressing his lips against your non-responsive ones, trailing his kisses over to your cheek, jawline and then finally your neck before you pushed away from him.

"I'm serious," you muttered quietly, folding your arms over your chest, "I can't keep doing this to my fiancé, I'm about to get married in a few months. This shit is wrong, and you know that." You gave him a side glance, chewing anxiously on your bottom lip.

Terry sighed, his eyes on you in a near blank stare. This shit was tuning him out. Where was all this shit coming from again? "You came all the way out here to tell me that? What you sayin'?" He asked you, brows slightly furrowed as he looked over your solemn side profile.

You were silent for a moment, mind racing. You dropped your arms from their folded position, fiddling with your fingers and wringing them out in nervous jitters. "We can't do this...any more." You said slowly. You weren't strong enough to do this three months ago, but maybe now? Terry's brows now no longer furrowed, he looked at you with now a completely blank stare, almost like your words weren't toward him. He nodded slowly as you continued though. "But that doesn't mean that I don't wanna see you anymore—we can still be friends, I can still come see you sometimes." You foolishly said.

"Yeah?" Terry asked eyes trailing over your seated figure, hungrily. His hand didn't hesitate to retreat to your thigh, rubbing the thin material of your dress up your thighs. "We can be friends?"

Your eyes dropped from his gaze, to his wandering hands. Skin feeling hot all over again, you resisted the urge to close your eyes, not trusting yourself to speak you nodded slowly. Silly girl, really.

"Yeah?" He asked you once again, brow raising in mock surprise. "You sound so sure, mama. How can we be friends and I can't even keep my hands off of you?" His hands trailing up, up, till they got to the waistband of your pretty images, his long digits slipping inside.

You huffed as soon as his middle finger started circling your hard clit, eyes fluttering closed as you fought to give him a response in return, "you'll learn," you huffed through his subtle, teasing on your clit.

He laughed in response to your statement, "you know that shit ain't true. Don't even know why you fightin' this shit to be honest," he coyly responded, finger sliding up and down slowly from the hood of your clit down to your entrance before slowly slipping his finger inside of you, feeling how snug you felt around him. He mocked your moan of pleasure, watching as your head fell against his shoulder, a small whimper slipping past your lips.

"It's wrong, can't do this, you 'bout to get married," he repeated your phrases back to him, tone patronizing, "but this pussy so wet for me," he mumbled pressing a kiss to your forehead, resting his lips there before slipping another finger in, eyes darting between your expression and his hand in your panties.

Fingers curling and pushing so deliciously deep, your brows furrowed as you gasped sharply, a soft pretty moan following right after. Terry persisted his soft kisses against your forehead as he continued his assault with his fingers, pace picking up ever so slightly, sounds of your sticky arousal coating his fingers filled the spacious bedroom. You nodded your head at the immense pleasure you felt, soft gasps slipping past your lips with every thrust, "yes, yes, yesss," you chanted to nothing in particular, eyes squeezed shut as your hands instinctively wrapping around his working wrist.

His free hand lazily knocking them away, almost as if you were disturbing him. You whined, feeling his fingers increase in speed, the sound of nothing but your arousal filling your ears as your moans and chanting became silenced behind your quickly approaching orgasm.

Terry took note of your shallow breathing, frozen figure and agape mouth, pressing another soft kiss to your forehead, "there we go," he mumbled against your skin, "cum. Cum for me," he rushed out, fingers slipping out of you to rub in rapid, vigorous circles against your clit. Juices spurting out of you seemingly on command. "Gimme all that shit, stop playin' wimme." He hummed grabbing your slackened jaw, fingers still effortlessly working against you, juices still squirting out of you wildly. Capturing the moans you were finally able to let out right into his mouth.

He didn't stop kissing you, or his lewd actions with his finger until he was sure you had finally rode out your orgasm, trembling and all. He slipped his hand out of your panties, fingers dripping in your essence as you both watched. "Look at that," he mumbled, "came so fuckin' hard." He said before rubbing his fingers against your parted, swollen lips, before slipping them inside your wet mouth. Fingers fucking your wet mouth and throat as he watched, teeth sunken into his bottom lip looking at you with hungry eyes at you tasting yourself.

He slipped his fingers out of your mouth all at once, immediately slapping them against the seat of your nose soaked panties. "Can't make you do that if we just friends."

You hadn't got a chance tip properly take off any of your clothes. He didn't give you a chance. Your dress pushed up above your exposed titties, bra hanging lazily off of one arm, panties pushed to the side. He was so hungry to ravage you, almost like if he'd given you a chance to undress you could change your mind. You were a lost cause as soon as he got you to that bed tbh.

"Stop playin' wimme," he looked up at you, face stern, a stern look in his eyes, hand slapping against your left ass cheek with a hard force, leaving a lasting sting behind you would've cried at hadn't you been so turned on, a needy moan leaving your lips as you slumped against him, "ride that dick right."

You whimpered as he pushed you back, your hands grasping both of his shoulders as you stabilized yourself on the tips of your toes before lifting and slowly lowering yourself onto him, you didn't dare take all of him, what you were taking was just enough, hitting that spot that you liked so much. You kept this up for as long as you could, avoiding his impatient glare.

"Yeah, you playin' with that dick," he mumbled irritancy clear in his tone, both hands gripping either sides of your fleshy hips forcing you down onto him, the stretch coming with that perfect sting, the force of him filling you hurt so good, a guttural moan erupted from you, eyes glazing over as you stared down at him with parted lips, "you know who you with, ride that shit how I like."

The casualty in his tone was abstract to the dirty things he was saying to you, that alone had you leaking all over him. Your whimpers and moans fell into synchronization with the creaking bed, squelching of your pussy and your skin slapping together as you took all of him. Terry's grunts and groans matching yours, his eyes averting back and forth between your pleasurably contorted expressions to where you met at the base of his dick. You felt your self started to slink against his upright figure, arms wrapping around his neck as you buried your face in his neck muffling your audible moans as you continued your rushed pace.

But he had to see you. Had to watch all the pretty faces you made when he made you take him deep like this. Both his hands grasped your torso, lightly pushing you away from him, halting your movements causing him to furrow his brows. "I ain't say stop, keep ridin' that dick," he affirmed, sending another sharp slap to your ass. You whined at the sting, starting to bounce again, ignoring the aching in your calves. Him filling you up once again making your mind a fuzzy mess.

"Just like that," he groaned, looking up at you leaning forward to catch one of your pierced mounds into his mouth, lips latching on softly, the sight making you huff through a moan your own eyes fluttering closed as you continued riding him. He pulled back with a loud pop, eyes watching you intently. "Look at you, fuckin' yourself on my dick like this. But you done with me, yeah?" He asked voice low and uneven as you sunk yourself down to his sticky base where you met, a shallow breath slipping past your parted lips. "You done with me?" He asked a bit louder, his eyes boring into your soft ones.

You could barely answer, mind fuzzy as you fucked your self into an empty oblivion. Eyes closing and then promptly opening, only to roll back. His hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making your brown eyes flutter open, a series of heavy breaths slipping past your lips as you tried to focus on his gaze. "Say the wrong thing and watch I don't let you cum on this dick, you heard me."

"I'm not done," you managed to slur out, voice small and breathy as your hands wrapping around his wrist, for leverage at your now burning knees.

Your quiet response obviously not satisfactory to Terry. "You wanna cum on this dick?" He asked you, still holding onto your slackened jaw.

"Yesss!"

"So let me hear you say that shit. You done with me?" He repeated more firmly.

"Im not done, daddy!" You cried out shaking your head in his grasp vigorously, the tears burning behind your now shut eyes threatening to spill over as you continued trying to fight off your quickly approaching orgasm.

"I know," he cooed, pressing open mouthed kisses all over chest, "I know, baby. You love fuckin' this dick don't you?" He muttered against your skin. Hand dropping from your jaw to join his other in wandering all over your body. You felt so hot, everywhere. Everything felt so good and like too much all at once.

"Yessss!"

"Yeah you do," he hummed through a moan of his own, "keep fuckin' me just like that. Such a nasty lil bitch, keep goin," he groaned.

You opened your tear filled eyes, soft and unfocused as you gazed down at him almost pathetically, "wanna cum daddy. wanna cum so bad," you whimpered.

"m' almost there, baby," he rushed out, eyes focused on the mess you were currently making on him, breathing ragged, "keep goin."

You could tell exactly how close he was when he started thrusting into you, luckily for you anyways, your knees were burning, calves aching, you didn't know how much longer you could've kept up.

"Oh my god," you repeated over and over through a series of heavy breaths and moans, your eyes low, vision blurred as tears ran down your soaked cheeks, "I'm gonna cum! Daddy im gonna—"

"Cum," he breathlessly mumbled, lips parted, "cum on my dick. Let me cum in you, mama."

"Cum in me daddy!" You rushed out, mind completely fuzzy and blank. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" You frantically announced, slouching against Terry's broad figure as he continued his sloppy, hard thrusts groaning and grunting as he filled your sensitive pussy with his warm cum. Your ears muffling the sounds of him announcing his orgasm, late of course.

Soft kisses covered your neck and chest as you came down from your orgasm, his strokes now slow and relaxed. But as you came back down you noticed your horrible mistake.

"Cum in me daddy!" Your words echoed in your now stable mind. Canada had to sell plan B's, surely. Right?

Hope you enjoyed <3

tag list: @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @nickidub718 @keehendrixx @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @b2hotty @partypoison00 @grooveoftiro @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @dxddykenn @motheroffae @kaylaahisthebestest- - @hello-therree @simplyzeeka

#black writers #fine black men #black!fem!reader #fine as fuck #aaron pierre #terry richmond #rebel ridge #black reader #smut #spotify #terry richmond smut

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mylight-png · 10 months ago

Text

You know how I know that the anti-Israel hate is deeply rooted in antisemitism, and not just "social justice" or whatever people are calling it right now?

Let me tell you a common situation I encounter:

So, being a college student away from home, I don't have a car here. This means that if I ever need to go anywhere, I need to get an Uber or Lyft or something along those lines.

I always tuck in my Bring Them Home tag, magen david, turn my "am Yisrael chai" pin to the inside of my clothes, etc. I hate doing it, but I have heard of violently antisemitic drivers, and I'd rather not risk it, considering I'm alone in the car with them.

Every time, I call my mom. It makes me safer to have someone on call. And every time, she makes the same two recommendations.

The first is to put in an address of a neighboring house for pickup, because the house I live in has my landlord's car out front, and his car has stickers in Hebrew on it.

The second is, if asked where I'm from, to say Russia. I don't get asked where I'm "really from" unless I'm with my parents usually (they both have strong accents). But it's a warning my mom repeats every time anyway. The choice of Russia isn't random, I was raised fluent and can back up the claim if need be with random knowledge. But I have never been to Russia, except for the airport once to catch a connecting flight to Israel. I was, however, born in Israel, and I've been there multiple times (unfortunately not since 2014 though). So to say I'm from Russia is a lie, and to say I'm from Israel is the truth.

Both are countries at war. Russia, unlike Israel, actually started the war. Unlike Israel, Russia actually does have a history of colonialism, genocide, imperialism, and worse.

So why is it safer for me to lie about being from an aggressor country than to tell the truth about being from a country caught in a war it didn't want?

Antisemitism. Anti-Russian hate crimes globally didn't spike, Russian women haven't been raped as "justice" for Ukraine. Russian businesses weren't commonly vandalized simply for being from Russia. Meanwhile, all of these things were done to Jews as a result of a war Israel did not start.

If this global response to the war wasn't antisemitism it would be equally safe or unsafe for me to give either answer.

But in reality, it's safer for me to lie about being from Russia than to tell the truth about being from Israel.

That's how I know it's antisemitism.

#jumblr #proud israeli #israel solidarity #antisemitism #russia ukraine war #israel hamas war #antizionism is antisemitism #antizionism

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astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Text

it's got to be time travel | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem footballer!reader

face claim: jessie fleming (i'm a chelsea fan and i'm sad she left :()

they've got all the time in the world for each other, don't ask them where they got that time from though

note: we're also gonna pretend that the women's football and f1 seasons line up here lol

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,203,784 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: last sunday lunch before we both have to go back to work :(

view all comments

user1: ffs why do their ACTUAL jobs have to get in the way of my regularly scheduled charles x y/n content???

user2: i personally think that the fia should just give charles the championship and y/n the WSL title so they can just chill together :)

maxverstappen1: not on my watch

charles_leclerc: you don't even follow me? get out of my comments

maxverstappen1: you can't just get given the championship because you have attachment issues WE ALL HAVE ATTACHMENT ISSUES

charles_leclerc: me i get, but y/n doesn't deserve to win?

maxverstappen1: i never said that. y/n is girlboss slay queen

yourusername: too right i am

charles_leclerc: why are you peace and love with her and not me?

maxverstappen1: she's cool, you aren't

yourusername: can't disagree with that babe soz

user3: i have a feeling that these spats might get worse the longer charles is separated from y/n

user4: waa waa we're all sad their being separated but all i'm thinking is UP THE CHELS

user5: i need the treble right fucking now, a charles championship would be a bonus i guess

lewishamilton: will i get a formal introduction to y/n before we're teammates?

yourusername: YES, YES YOU WILL

charles_leclerc: i guess that answers that

lewishamilton: don't hate the player, hate the game

yourusername: i better see your ass at kingsmeadow at some point, it's fun, even if others think they're too good for it

lewishamilton: i'll be there 🫡

user7: can 2025 come quick.... PLEASE

user8: lol does this mean that charles has offered to take carlos to a game but he didn't go?

user9: ugh what a bore

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,402,667 others

tagged: chelseafcw

yourusername: excited for the new season back with the girlypops :))))))

view all comments

user10: treble or nothing I BEG

user11: it's their year for the champions league i've seen the script

alexalbon: no seatbelt ? way to set dangerous examples to your young audience

yourusername: if you're not careful i'm gonna teach my audience how to put their foot up the ass of those annoying her

alexalbon: ugh i hope you lose :P

yourusername: i don't have to hope, i know your ass ain't gonna be in q3

alexalbon: that's TOO far @charles_leclerc does our years of friendship mean nothing?

charles_leclerc: sorry buddy, i am y/n stan first, human being second

yourusername: as he should.

user12: so like... will we see charles in a y/n jersey again in the paddock?

user13: @ferrari stop being so annoying and let him wear what he wants

user14: i think i tasted paradise when they actually let him wear a y/n canada jersey in montreal

charles_leclerc: never seen someone make blue look so good

maxverstappen1: i'm right here?

sebastianvettel: did the homoeroticism of our challenge videos mean nothing?

danielricciardo: do not lie to yourself

yourusername: sorry sluts, you wish you looked this good

charles_leclerc: they'll never be you 🫶🏻

user15: i know the cfcw admin and pr department have a heart attack every time y/n posts

user16: the way she's out here calling three f1 drivers sluts with no repercussions

yourusername: can't be told off for telling the TRUTH

liked by lewishamilton, fernandoalo_oficial and 1,205,489 others

tagged: charles_leclerc & yourusername

f1: couple goals! charles leclerc takes pole in bahrain while his girlfriend, y/n y/ln, scored the winner for chelsea women!

view all comments

user19: okay but i've never been in a relationship and am currently rotting on my couch... so who is the real winner here x

yourusername: my handsome boy is so talented :3

charles_leclerc: not as talented as you, pretty girl

yourusername: nuh uh at least my team is competent

charles_leclerc: errrrr

samkerr20: i think you broke him lol

yourusername: sometimes i think he's more loyal to ferrari than me

charles_leclerc: no!

scuderiaferrari: huh?

charles_leclerc: wait...

yourusername: i see :(

charles_leclerc: i'm LOGGING OUT

user20: charles is so lover boy stuck in his tortured poets department (ferrari formula one team)

user21: the way he's probably yelling down the phone to y/n about how much he loves her right now

samkerr20: he is and it's so loud the whole locker room can hear it

yourusername: but he's so sweet isn't he

niamhcharles17: i guess?

alexalbon: we heard it from his side... barf

yourusername: @lilymunhe are you being starved of romance?

lilymunhe: compared to you and charles YES

alexalbon: ummmm get out of my business y/ln

yourusername: you're ALWAYS in my business buster 🤨

alexalbon: NO! i am just passing down the ancient skill of communication?

yourusername: you're such a gossip girl alex

user21: i know they bicker like siblings, but i know deep down that there have been double dates

charles_leclerc: yes, but y/n and i are much better (no offence lily)

yourusername: did you log back in to restart the argument with alex

charles_leclerc: yes!

alexalbon: boo you whore

yourusername: don't talk to him like that 🤨

samkerr20

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 303,445 others

tagged: yourusername & charles_leclerc

samkerr20: forced to hang out with the straights... they're actually kind of cute

view all comments

user22: you know the couple has to be real cute when even the gays think they're cute

user23: no one can resist the charms of y/n and charles

yourusername: these photos make me think that we are cuter

samkerr20: we are but i didn't want to hurt charles' feelings

charles_leclerc: consider them hurt

samkerr20: boo hoo

yourusername: noooooo i love you xxx

charles_leclerc: hehehehehehehe i love you too xxx

yourusername: i miss you, hurry up and win and come home to me

charles_leclerc: i'm doing my best :(

yourusername: you are the bestest boy

samkerr20: STOP THAT MAKES HIM SOUND LIKE A DOG

oscarpiastri: when will australians stop being victims of this relationship

danielricciardo: this is your first season dealing with them properly, buckle up

oscarpiastri: i'm in a relationship but they make me feel so lonely

maxverstappen1: you get used to it after a while

yourusername: we're right here

landonorris: let us commiserate in peace

charles_leclerc: ??? do you or do you not get free football tickets out of it?

landonorris: yeha but when we go we just have to watch you cry when y/n inevitably wins another trophy

charles_leclerc: I'M PROUD OF HER AND YOU WON'T SHAME ME FOR THAT

user24: chelsea women players must be so confused when these grown men start arguments in the comments of THEIR posts

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, charles_leclerc and 1,529,556 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: weekend off... you know what that means

view all comments

user25: i know there's over 1.5 million likes but how can i gatekeep y/n?

user26: for real

charles_leclerc: the best weekends are with you here

yourusername: i may have a love/hate relationship with this team, but the catering is banging (i may have to move to italy)

chelseafcw: NO MENTIONS OF LEAVING CHELSEA, NOT EVEN A JOKE - NOTHING!

yourusername: okay, sorry guys (the pasta was so good though)

charles_leclerc: not even for me?

chelseafcw: DEFINITELY NOT FOR YOU, WATCH OUT OR WE'LL BLACKLIST YOU FROM KINGSMEADOW

yourusername: okay, let's pedal this back. i'm not leaving london and we all still love charles, right admin?

chelseafcw: .... yes

user27: when you're in a who has attachment issues with y/n y/ln and your competition is the chelseafcw admin and charles leclerc

user28: no point even showing up

maxverstappen1: i for one am glad when y/n is in the paddock because it means i can sneak in without the cameras seeing me

yourusername: i am a woman of the people

charles_leclerc: she's such a star, everyone wants to see her

maxverstappen1: yeah i'll give you that

yourusername: we're also hot

charles_leclerc: don't you dare respond to that one max

maxverstappen1: 🫡🫡🫡

user29: patiently waiting for the hq photos of them 😚

user30: gonna print them out and put them in my heart locket

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,398,452 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: babe is top of the league (and top scorer)

view all comments

user33: get yourself a guy who flexes your achievements as much as charles does

user34: setting the example tbf

yourusername: my lucky charm, that hat-trick was for you xx

charles_leclerc: would mean more if you didn't score them every week 😭

yourusername: they hate to see a girlboss winning

charles_leclerc: wanna share some wins with me?

yourusername: you're doing great this season babe, not your fault that nasa decided to rebrand to red bull racing

redbullracing: adrian says thanks 😊

charles_leclerc: DON'T SAY IT Y/N

yourusername: you don't even know what i was going to say

charles_leclerc: ....

yourusername: @redbullracing you got a seat???

charles_leclerc: Y/N!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: whoops

user35: y/n really out here trying to get charles that damn seat

yourusername: i'll stop when the horse team makes a championship worthy car that they don't break halfway through the season...

user36: add ferrari to the group of people who shudder in fear when y/n posts

chelseafcw: fine... we hope you enjoyed (no more italy jokes)

charles_leclerc: i had a great time, i always do when i watch y/n do what she loves (slay)

yourusername: awwwwwwwwww i love you charlie

chelseafcw: okay no need to make admin feel that lonely, damn

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, alexalbon and 1,782,309 others

yourusername: finishing my best ever season with a big trophy haul :) now time to support my trophy husband in his day job

view all comments

user41: she really be out here doing it all

user42: i need her to win the Ballon d'Or Féminin PLEASE IT IS TIME

user43: with charles in attendance, first couples red carpet appearance YES, YES RUN IT TO ME PLEASE

charles_leclerc: unbelievably proud of you, mon amour, constantly inspired by you

yourusername: i love you so much, thank you for being there to support me through it all

charles_leclerc: it's the biggest pleasure in the world

yourusername: i'm all out of winning this season, your turn next weekend?

charles_leclerc: for you, i'll do anything

user44: PLEASE I NEED HIM TO WIN GOOD PLEASE

alexalbon: congrats i guess, you're pretty good

yourusername: thanks, since my boyf is so supportive, it's only natural that you have to try and humble me at every turn

alexalbon: you're more famous than us now, we need to keep you grounded

lilymunhe: don't worry y/n he cried nearly just as much as charles when you won the WSL

yourusername: I KNEW IT

charles_leclerc: i still cried more

alexalbon: it's not a competition bro, we all know you're both helplessly in love

yourusername: that we are

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,309,855 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: happiest when i'm with you (and whoever has decided to tag along), oh and winning a race helps as well i guess

view all comments

user45: CHARLES WIN I REPEAT A CHARLES WIN WE WON?

user46: the way y/n went just as mental as us, her and zecira jumping around the garage (and starting the champagne shower after the podium)

user47: really proving that y/n and charles really are each other's biggest fans

user48: thank the lord the WSL season finished when it did so y/n could be there for this win

user49: y/n would've ran to austria to be there i'm sure

yourusername: you know it 🫡

maxverstappen1: had to let you win so you could look cool in front of your infinitely cooler girlfriend

charles_leclerc: not even gonna bite, i'm too happy to care

yourusername: i'll bite - HIS TALENTED BEHIND SCHOOLED YOUR ASS

maxverstappen1: but i called you cool?

yourusername: i'll accept the compliment now, i had to defend charles' honour first

charles_leclerc: heheheehe i'm blushing

maxverstappen1: gross

user50: i need y/n to permanently be in the ferrari garage, they were on it today (i think out of fear)

landonorris: damn i thought i thirdwheeling lestappen was bad, but y/n and charles is a different beast

yourusername: we're both athletes, need to savour the time we have together when we can

charles_leclerc: sorry not sorry you'll get it when you're in love

landonorris: .... i guess i'll die then

fin.

note: i hope you enjoyed !!!! one last WIP to go and good lord the writers block is kicking my ass. but f1 being back should help!!! + f1 academy, much enjoyed it so far.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc social media au

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pipwritesoccasionally · 7 months ago

Text

two little lines

toji x reader

in which you find out that you're pregnant and fear toji's reaction.

because of pregnancy this is technically an AFAB!reader, but I did my best to keep it gender neutral. though I did use the pet name "doll" (sorry it feels so toji), and I don't exactly know if it's gender neutral.

despite this technically being AFAB, if you're AMAB and want to read I am not here to yuck your yum.

wc: 1551

look at me mixing it up with a toji fic after three straight nanami fics!

parts: 2 3 4 5

______________________________________________________________

two little lines. all it took to seemingly destroy your entire life was two little lines on a pregnancy test.

sure, it had been two months since your last period, and sure, you were in a long-term relationship, so pregnancy was something that was technically plausible. however, you just couldn’t fathom how you had been so careless. i mean, having two kids was enough, but a third?

no, your husband was definitely going to leave you, and the thought of it made your heart clench.

‘fuck,’ you thought, vision blurring. ‘everything is just going to end because of two stupid fucking pink lines?’

you’re lucky toji was off on some other random bounty hunt, giving you time to hide the test before going to pick megumi and tsumiki up from school. the floorboards creak as you run to the kitchen, throwing the test in the box with your favorite snacks, knowing toji would never look inside it.

silence fills the house, creating a sharp juxtaposition with the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. there has to be some way to calm down before going to get your stepkids. you tried everything you could think of, from splashing cold water on your face to walking around to holding an ice cube in your hand, until eventually you got to a point where you felt like you could pretend.

keys, wallet and stress in hand, you got in the car and headed to their elementary school. the kids were there, standing on the curb, and you waved as you approached. there seemed to be an argument before tsumiki opened the passenger-side door, megumi grumbling as he slid into the backseat.

“how was school?” you asked, and the kids scrambled to talk about what they learned, from the different types of clouds to their times-tables.

“it was super fun and the teacher said that we have a new project coming up about the types of clouds! we get to make diaramas of them and it sounds really fun!” tsumiki exclaims, the smile evident in her voice.

“that does sound fun! you’ll have to tell your dad all about it when he gets home,” you feel your brows furrow at the mention of toji, but you quickly resume your role of the happy guardian so as not to cause any problems.

the house comes into view minutes later, and megumi runs inside. you turn to get out before tsumiki sighs softly.

“wait,” she says, and you turn to her. “is something wrong?”

‘curse her for being so observant,’ you think, but you shake your head quickly.

“nothing for you to worry about, just worried about your father, as always,” which technically is not a lie, just not fully the truth.

“oh, well you know that he’ll be okay! he’ll be back and then he’ll stomp around the house talking about those ‘damn sorcerers’-” tsumiki deepens her voice to imitate her father, but you stop her.

“hey! watch your language!” she opens the door and runs inside, laughing the whole way, and you smile softly. you really do love those kids, even if they aren’t yours by blood.

the house is cold when you enter, and you make your way towards the thermostat. however, before you can even turn the temperature up, a sour taste climbs up your throat. you feel sweat drench your brow, and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re going to throw up.

you run up the stairs, throwing yourself in front of the toilet to empty your stomach. footsteps pad up the stairs, and you feel a little hand rubbing against your back.

“(y/n)? are you sure you’re okay?” tsumiki’s soft voice brought tears to your eyes, more running down your cheeks as you retched. it took a minute or two to get everything out of your system before you sit back on your heels.

“sorry, i guess i’m a little sick. we should have some microwavable meals in the fridge, do you think you could make some food for you and megumi?” she nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more.

‘he’s going to find out soon,’ you worry, brushing your teeth to rid the awful taste from your mouth. ‘i guess i should get some rest so i don’t have to face him when he comes home.’

you sink into your shared bed, blankets reaching out to hug your body, and you drift off to sleep.

the bed sinks, pulling you out of your slumber. you begin to turn to face your husband before you’re reminded of the events from earlier. your pulse is rapid, and you think about pretending that you’re still asleep before toji speaks.

“hey doll. ‘miki said that you weren’t feeling well earlier. you’re not hurt, are you? i can handle whoever it is for you.” you smile at the softness he only displays for you, but how can you explain that the person causing you stress is none other than him?

“i’m okay. it’s probably food poisoning or something. you did cook dinner last night,” he frowns, groaning lowly.

“i’m not that bad. the brats said it was fine enough,” you laugh at him, burrowing into the blankets. your husband slides his shirt over his head, revealing his broad shoulders riddled with muscles and scars. mindlessly, you reach out to caress him softly, and he slides into bed beside you. while normally you’d ask to lay on his chest, you’re worried being that close would make him aware of your irregular pulse.

“goodnight babe,” you say, curling back into yourself and closing your eyes, knowing that if you look at him now his confusion would cause the truth to tumble out.

“night doll,” he hesitates, weight settling in on the other side of the bed.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

you wake up to a quiet house, something that sets you off immediately. two elementary school aged kids does not bode well for a quiet house, and so you sit up, reaching to your right to find toji’s side of the bed cold to the touch.

‘okay, something’s up.’

you walk down the stairs to the kitchen, calling out for the kids, only to see that their shoes aren’t by the door. toji’s in the kitchen, looking through the fridge.

“hey babe, where are the kids?” you normally get them off to school, but it seems that maybe you’d slept in late.

“they’re at school,” he says shortly, taking you aback.

“okay. sorry i slept in, i must have been really tire-” you stop when you step into the kitchen, seeing your positive pregnancy test on the counter. the whole world freezes, and you can feel everything crashing down.

“oh that? yeah, it was weird. i tried to bring your favorite snack to you in bed when the box was making a weird sound. found that at the bottom.” he gestures haphazardly, cracking the dam holding the next wave of your anxiety back.

“it’s a friend’s-”

“don’t bullshit me. were you even going to tell me?” his voice is low, eyes piercing.

“toji-”

“were. you. going. to. tell me.” he enunciates.

“i didn’t know how! i mean seriously, you have two kids to worry about, the last thing you need is a fucking baby! i get it, it’s over. i’ll go get my shit,” tears are running down your cheeks as you tear out your heart with your bare hands. you turn to leave, making your way upstairs, when a hand grabs your wrist softly.

“wait–doll. fuck.” he turns you to face him. “you don’t have to leave.”

“of course i fucking do. should probably go now before the kids get back. i don’t want them involved.” you take another step, but his grip remains firm.

“i said you don’t have to leave. the brat’s mine too.”

“wait. you want to keep it?” he looks to the side, rubbing his other hand against his neck.

“of course i fucking do,” he mirrors, and your eyes widen.

“you mean…you’re not mad?”

“i’m mad you didn’t tell me, not about the brat.” your eyes water, and before you know it you’re sobbing into his chest.

“what is this all about? you really have such a low opinion of me to think i’d kick you out?” his voice rumbles through his chest against your ear.

“you’re just so busy, and i thought…i thought that you would be mad,” you sob even harder, not knowing where the emotions end and hormones begin.

“so what? i’d just kick you to the curb?”

“i mean, you have two kids already…maybe a third would be too much.” he starts to chuckle, causing you to pull away from him.

“what’s so funny?”

“that you seriously thought i’d kick you out. i don’t break promises, doll, and marriage is just a big promise. besides, you’d probably get custody of the brats. they like you more than me.”

you run your hands over your face before reaching out to play with his hair.

“you’re really not mad?” you repeat, and he rolls his eyes.

“no dumbass. besides, i can’t let any other men see how hot you are carrying my kid.” you snort, circling your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

“love you, toji.”

“love you too, doll.” he says, your lips meeting.

#jjk #toji x reader #toji jjk #toji fushiguro #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fluff #angst to fluff?#manga #anime #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen toji fushiguro

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munsonsmixtapes · 4 months ago

Note

hii could you write a smut like this so yk the scene in stranger things where eddie’s bed was covered in unknown stains? and when he says “those stains are.. idk what those stains are”and then recap from the night before that eddie and the reader hooked up with eachother the night before tysm!!

I love this idea!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotect sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Eddie, Robin, and Nancy stare up at the mattress above them that Lucas and Max have just carried in. His cheeks turn pink as the two girls eye him suspiciously. This puts him in a predicament. He could lie, or he could tell the truth.

He's gonna lie, he thinks. He doesn't care if they don't believe him, he just absolutely cannot tell the truth. Not only would it embarrass him, but he also doesn't want to tell them about you. That's none of their business.

The mattress looks even more gross than he remembers. He meant to wash the sheets but he forgot like always. So now every knows what he's done and he's trying to play off that he doesn't know what the stains even are.

"Those stains are uh-I don't know what those stains are." He doesn't have to look at the girls to know they don't believe him. He doesn't care anyway. He just lets his mind wander to the night before.

"Look at you," he says as he spreads your legs wide. "So wet for me, hm?" He asks as your slick leaks out onto the sheets below you.

"Always wet for you," you reply and he smirks because he knows you're right. You're always wet for him and that's the way he likes it. He loves to know that he's always on your mind 24/7.

"That's right, sweetheart," he nods and lines himself up before pushing his cock inside you, pumping into you fast, hard, and deep. He's managed to fit all of myself inside you and he's getting harder as he sees the tears pricking your eyes.

"Taking me so well already. Didn't think all of it would fit, did you?" He asks as he grabs hold of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pushes even farther into you.

"Oh," you moan so loudly that Eddie's nervous that other people in the trailer park can hear you, but he decides that he doesn't care. In fact, he wants them to hear you, to know just how good he makes you feel. "Eddie," you whine, grabbing onto his shoulders as he lowers himself onto you.

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades and he winces, but clearly it doesn't bother him that much since he's continuing to pound into you, both of you exchanging moans as your hands move down to his back, scratching up and down to show him how much you're enjoying it.

And you're already coming, an orgasm rolling through you and Eddie's talking you through it as he pushes your hair away from your sweaty forehead before pressing a kiss to it.

"Look so pretty when you're coming," he says. "Wanna do it again?" And you're nodding enthusiastically as the two of you go for round two and many more after that.

"Right, of course you don't," Robin teases Eddie with a nudge and he flushes as he continues to think about his night with you and wonders how he can back to you, and fast.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut

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mintmatcha · 27 days ago

Text

Inevitable Things : chapter twelve

aizawa x reader fic

cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks, fingering

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Sticky and wet. Your pants are sticky and wet.

Pulling your panties up while still damp was a big mistake, you think as you walk back through the restaurant. The water you spilled in the restroom is all down your ass and is quickly cooling to an uncomfortable temperature, not to mention the absolute mess of cum and spit that's currently in the gusset of your panties-

And yet none of it manages to ruin your mood.

Really, you should feel bad. Guilty, at the very least. You should be feeling bad about doing this to Touya, doing this in a public fucking space--

But, you don’t. Not in the slightest. No, you feel good. Better than you have in a very long time. There’s a levity in your step that you don't think you've ever had. It takes effort to tamp down your smile as you slide back into the table, adjusting your hair just in case. Your whole body is buzzing with post orgasm bliss, but you can't let Hizashi know that.

“Oh my god, there you are!” Hizashi slams his hands down and groans. “I thought you got lost!”

You never even got to pee. That’s a bit of a bummer, but you think it’s a worthy sacrifice. Fuck, you’ll never pee again if that's the alternative.

“There was a line,” you dismiss. God, you need to cum more often. This is great. Maybe you can masturbate tonight when you get back to the hotel room-

A tingle thrills up your spine as you remember the fact that you won't be alone tonight. No, Aizawa is coming back with you, putting that talented fucking mouth of his to good use. You should have tried this years ago; it certainly would have made work more tolerable. It would have made Aizawa more tolerable too.

Fuck, you wish you could tell Hizashi that he was right; having fun is great. You had almost forgotten that being in love could be fun.

Not that you're in love. That would be criminally insane. You're just high off of post orgasmic bliss.

“Where did Aizawa go?” you ask, casually. Hizashi quirks a brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Taking a call. Manufacturing had an issue, apparently.”

“Again?”

Manufacturing is always having an issue; it comes with the territory for biomedical companies. Production of the products is actually outsourced, including the computer chips needed for the bed. Most of the time, issues can be dealt with internally, but there are also times that it has to be elevated all the way to engineering. It’s a good lie, in theory, but Aizawa is going to have to explain why they are contacting a lead engineer and not someone lower on the food chain.

“Um,” you shift in your seat. The excitement inside you needs to come out or else you might explode. “I got a text from the guy from last night.”

“Shut up-- that’s why you were gone so long, huh? Sexting in the bathroom?”

Oh, he’d die if he knew the truth. Absolutely die.

“We weren’t sexting.” Not a lie! “But, I think I'm going to invite him over to my room tonight.”

Hizashi tilts his head down so he can look at you from over his glasses. It's a very Nemuri move, complete with her little smirk.

“Are you gonna just make out again, or…?”

You tap your heels against the floor.

“No,” you hum, as innocently as possible.

“No?”

“No, I--” Oh, you have to literally bite your tongue to kill your smile. It's like being sixteen again, giddy and giggly over nothing- “I think I wanna do more.”

With a mouth like that, you might just let Aizawa do whatever he wants. Hell, you had asked to go slow, but now that you've had a taste, you don't know if you can keep the brakes on. You had forgotten how good it feels to be wanted, to be craved, to be touched… and Shouta seems determined to give you everything you need.

Hizashi physically reacts by grabbing the table and shaking it with a slack jawed amazement.

“Yes! Yes!” You have to grab your drink and Aizawa to stop them from spilling, but you're laughing all the while. “Good for you!”

“Hizashi, the waters!”

“Who is this guy?” Hizashi asks. “Is he cute? Is he nice?”

Is Aizawa cute? Not really. He's more… handsome than cute. Hardened, but soft. And he's certainly not nice. In fact, you’d label him as very not nice. Mean, even. Though, he did get you that sandwich this morning, which was really sweet. And he has those cats, which makes him a little softer than you first imagined-

“He's okay, I guess,” you settle on.

Hizashi nods, a bit too solemn. It sets you on edge, the way he clams up as he watches you, eyeing up and down over and over. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he thinks.

“Shut up.” He leans in on his elbows, sternly. “It's Shouta, isn't it?”

Don't panic. You're pinned down, like a bug under glass, but you can't panic. Luckily, your brain is still stupidly swimming, so you're able to fight your institution and just stare back at him with what you hope is a bewildered glare.

“What.”

The man leans back and scoffs, then scoffs again, louder. His hand lies over his heart as if you've slapped him, indignant. The restaurant suddenly isn’t loud enough; you need the music to be turned up or for the crowd to get thicker to hide what’s about to come out of this man’s mouth.

“Oh my god, it's totally him! You’re totally boning!”

Fuck. Double fuck.

“I mean, you both just disappeared at the same time-” Hizashi jolts up mid sentence. “Did you guys just fuck in the bathroom?! Oh my god, good for you! Is he good? He’s gotta be good-”

Oh, shit. Oh, damn. The room might be closing in on you actually. It's time to do what you do worst: lie. You push away from the table with a snort, lip curled up the way Aizawa's does.

“That's disgusting , Hizashi.” Oh, there’a vitriol in that. You almost smile out of pride, but you keep your cool. You have to-- you can't ruin this thing between you before it's even really started. “In a bathroom? With him? I'd rather die.”

Your charade doesn’t seem to affect him.

“Oh, come on-” he laughs. “You're telling me you two don't have something going on? You both just magically found other people last night?”

“I wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last man on earth,” you insist. “Aizawa is awful! Awful! Why would I ever-?”

A figure looms over you. “What did I walk into?”

Triple fuck. From someone who stomps most of the time, Aizawa certainly has a quiet step today. You swivel around, trying to flash a panicked look. Somehow, Aizawa seems to understand. His brow flickers up for a brief second, then returns to the usual unimpressed spot. Should you be worried that the two of you have figured out lying this easily? Usually, Touya just lies to you, not with you.

“Hizashi thinks we're sleeping together.” You wave a hand dismissively. You hope that no one else notices that Aizawa’s face is noticeably damp-- freshly washed.

“Ugh.” He rolls his head back as if he’s been slapped, sliding into the seat beside Hizashi. His foot bumps against you and you question if it’s on purpose. Is.. was that his good leg? Or the bad one? Maybe he’s kicking you accidentally. “Her? What's wrong with you?”

Oh, ouch. That. Huh.

Logically, you know it’s just part of the lie you’ve started, but it still somehow stings. Rejection, even fake rejection, makes you ache. It falls too close to home, too close to Touya. (Not that you’re thinking about Touya tonight. No-- you’re allowing yourself to have fun. You’re forgetting him the same way he’s probably forgotten about you--)

Swallowing down your pride, you adjust yourself in your seat, pulling on your still soaked pants-

“You aren't a prize either.” Again, your own bite surprises you. “I've been dealing with your shitty attitude for years and-”

“My shitty attitude? You're the one who stomps around when your boyfriend gets fired.”

Your jaw falls slack. Okay, you should be offended, but… there’s an edge of something attractive in the way his dark eyes narrow. The grit to his voice reminds you of moments ago, how he talks to you when you’re alone-

“That’s rich.” You’re watching his face. Oh, that sting? It’s changed. Now, there’s a simmering want inside you, begging to be fed. You need him mad, need him angry, need him riled up- “Where’s your girlfriend?”

There’s a freeze. Both men have mirrored expressions of surprise. Aizawa blinks, then tightens his expression. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, that’s right.” You lift your glass and pretend to inspect the liquid inside. “You’ve been single since I’ve met you.”

Stunned, Hizashi opens his mouth to say something, but Aizawa beats him to the punch. He bends over the table with a glowering expression, those dark eyes boring into you. It reminds you of the fights you two had in office, but now that expression thrills you instead of terrifies.

“Oh, fuck you,” he seethes. “Sorry that I’m not whoring myself over the office with the interns.”

Oh, you kind of want to suck his cock right now. Obviously, you’ve always had a thing for red flags, but this is kind of ridiculous. He must have done something fucking magical or satanic to you pussy to make you act like this. Are you acting insane? You might be acting insane.

“Excuse me?” you ask through your teeth.

Oh, he’s riled up now, his eyes narrowed into slits. “ I saw those bruises you sucked into Kaminari.”

That steals a genuine laugh from you. Is that a genuine concern for him? You certainly hope not; Denki is… well, he’s Denki. He’s a sweet guy in his own regard, but you wouldn’t touch him with a ten foot pole. He’s young and, clearly, you prefer older guys.

(Huh. That’s a new revelation for you. Touya is your age, but… There’s something unbelievably sexy about the grey at Aizawa’s temple, the wrinkles next to his eyes-)

“You think I’m fucking that kid? Fuck you.”

“Fuck you.”

Oh, you hope he does. You hope he absolutely ruins you.

“Fuck-”

“Okay, okay,” Hizashi interrupts you, arms spread as if keeping you both from leaping over the table. “You people! What happened to the truce?”

“You happened!”

Somehow the rest of dinner goes well. Hizashi makes sure the conversation steers towards work and his plans for the night. You do have to give the wait staff an extra big tip-- Hizashi may have said ‘butt plug’ a bit too loudly for the poor guy’s comfort.

Occasionally, Shouta looks your way. He ponders a bit too long on your features, has a bit too much of a smile on his face. His leg bumps against your again, a silent reminder that he’s there. Honestly, thank god that Hizashi was convinced by your lies, because this man is being obvious.

And frankly, you’re living for it.

You’re still vibrating with excitement by the time you all leave together. He’s coming back to your room tonight, coming back for more. You might be getting addicted to this feeling, addicted to being wanted, to cumming on someone’s tongue-

Maybe you should throw caution to the wind and fuck him.

Oh, that thought sends a chill up your spine. It’s been so long since you’ve been filled. Sex always came with anxiety before, but now, you might be excited. Especially when Aizawa’s cock seems so fucking thick-

“You all ready for tomorrow?” Hizashi’s voice shocks you out of your thoughts. God, you’re worse than him! One orgasm and you’ve devolved into a needy pervert.

Aizawa groans, pressing his thumbs into his temples. The hotel lobby buzzes with life as you all enter. The tiles seems to get more dazzling at night, blue illuminated by the dangling chandeliers and air of excitement.

“No. It’s going to be a long night.”

Hizashi elbows his friend’s side. “No mysterious girl for you tonight, huh? Too busy studying?”

Aizawa is starkly quiet for a long moment, mouth screwed tight as if the question upset him. You almost worry that he’s considering it-- that he’s going to go back to his room without you, and dread sets into your bones. The need has already built back up inside you, anticipation tingling all the way to your fingers. It’s a little alarming, how quickly you’ve gotten addicted to the idea of fucking him, to cumming with him-

Aizawa shrugs away your worries. “I’ll find time.”

Internally, you cheer.

“Aw, you dog. Now- Do I need to supervise you two?” Hizashi teases as he turns on his heel, walking backwards into the hall. “Escort you to your rooms so you don’t murder each other in the elevator?”

“I think we’ll manage,” you say as you press the button. Hizashi leaves and the two of you are left in silence.

The elevator door rumbles closed behind you two after you both set in. Aizawa shifts back against the wall with a sigh, barely audible over the gentle muzak. He looks tired, but in a different way than usual: a gentle, content exhaustion, one that wears well on his features, but doesn’t deepen the creases on his brow. It suits him much more than the usual, miserable look he has.

“I should stop by my room before-” Aizawa starts.

You press off of the wall and close the distance between you. It doesn't matter what he was going to say, because you weren't going to listen anyway. Instead, you press yourself up on to your toes and catch his lips mid sentence, moving fast and sure enough that you catch him completely off guard. You can feel his surprise in his inward gasp as you force him back against the cold steel wall. There's a moment of hesitation -shock, you realize gleefully- before he caves into you, hands on your waist dragging you in until your hips press against his.

The quiet gives you space to enjoy the tiny moments he gives you: the hitch in his breath when you hold him tighter, the rumble in his chest when your teeth close around his lower lip, the sound of fabric against fabric as his hands drift lower and his hands grip your ass-

“You really piss me off,” he mumbles into you. “You get off on lying, don’t you?”

Only with him, you think. Only with you. The door dings open and you loosen your grip, but Aizawa holds firm, holds tight.

“Aizawa,” you mumble into his lips, but he just keeps going. “Ai-”

Another peck shuts you up for a moment.

“Shouta!”

Finally, he reacts and lets you go, his touch trailing on you for just a moment longer. You have to jut out an arm to stop the door from closing again.

“Listen-” he exhales. “I am going to my room. I’m going to shower, brush my teeth, then come to you. Okay?”

More than okay. Perfect. Excellent. Ideal.

“Okay.” You try to play it cool, but his nose wrinkles in delight at the tremble in your voice. “I’ll be waiting.”

Stepping out of the elevator, you glance behind one last time. It feels like you should say something, give him a goodbye, but instead you just watch the doors close in silence. His eyes never leave you, staring with a silent, hungering desire.

You might have to fuck him.

Back in your room, you do the same as him. You brush your teeth, rinse the day off of your body, and contemplate yourself in the fogged reflection of the mirror. The buzzing in your skin is either anxiety or excitement, maybe a bit of both, but you can’t stop riding the high that comes with them. Being wanted feels good, too good, impossibly good- so good that you’re afraid it’s about to be taken away.

Logically, it will be. This… thing must have a terminating point somewhere. There’s no possible way that the two of you continue this into the workplace, is there? Everything ends at some point, everyone leaves eventually-

No. Focus. Have fun. Focus on having fun.

You didn’t pack any perfume, so you hope the hotel body wash smells alluring enough. Your hair still looks okay enough that you don’t need to bother styling it- but you still try to, just a bit. It’s normal to want to look nice, to smell soft, to be soft, but there’s also an embarrassment to wanting to be pretty. You hadn’t felt it before, but now, you’re suddenly concerned about the curves of your body and how it sits differently than you want. He’s seen most of you before, and yet you’re now caught up in the imperfections. Which underwear did you pack again? Nothing sexy, that’s for sure. Only skin tone bras too. Fuck-- you don’t actually know if you own anything enticing.

Do you even own anything sexy?

What clothes should you even wear for him anyway? I’d be strange to put your clothes back on, right? What about pajamas? What will he be wearing? Hopefully not that fucking yellow sweatshirt he works in. You find yourself pacing around the room in only your towel, tidying up and trying to decide what the best option is. Maybe just a shirt? Like Winnie the Pooh?

No, that’s stupid. Ugh, you wish you were someone like Nemuri, someone bold and sexy and confident--

What would Nemuri do?

The dreaded knock at the door stocks you from your worry. You make a quick decision; turning out all of the lights, you tiptoe to the front door and peer out the peephole. Yes, it’s him, dressed in a simple white shirt, dark hair freshly washed. His expression is unreadable, as usual, but perhaps on the brink of anxious.

Why would he be nervous? The thought makes you giggle. Maybe, just maybe, he’s just as jittery as you are over this-

But you doubt it.

Before you lose your nerve, you open the door, still in your towel. Aizawa’s eyes widen just a bit, then narrow with a keen excitement.

“Am I too early?” he teases.

“No,” you reply, “Just in time.”

And you let your towel drop.

A beat passes before he reacts. Aizawa’s jaw literally drops. Before you can revel in the satisfaction, he’s crowding you again, hands ghosting over your body as if he can’t decide where to touch first. His shirt is rough against your bare skin and you’re suddenly very aware of how your nipples have pearled up. The hotel’s air conditioning is rolling, much colder than you’d ever make your home, and your skin is goosepimpling under it, but you’re still so hot, so warm-

“Oh god,” he whispers, breathy, barely sane. “Look at you.”

The first kiss is wild, breath stealing, rough- it forces you back a step, just far enough that the door slams closed and leaves you in the dark. His touch has settled on your chest, cupping your tits up between his fingers in a boyish way, one that's so much less precise than his usual way of loving you.

“God-” he says again. “God-”

Suddenly, his lips are gone and you can feel him hunched over you, breath hot against your tits. The gentle tug of teeth scares a gasp out of you, then floods your body with heat.

“I want to see you,” Aizawa's mouth closes around your nipple for a second, his spit cooling almost instantly. ”I want to touch you-”

His hand wraps around your thigh and squeezes. Your body burns hot, your core tight, cunt wet- Hotel darkness, with the curtains drawn, feels deeper than home. Only the red numbers of the clock illuminate the nightstand. You can't see how he moves, how he looks, but you can feel it--

And you want to feel more, more, more, as much as he'll give you.

“Touch me,” you beg. “Please.’

He drops to his knees with a quick, labored exhale. Fuck- his leg. He’s already kissing the lower round of your stomach, trailing down to the curve of your mons, taking his sweet, sweet time.

“Aizawa-” Your hands run through his hair and gently urge him back, but he just presses on, pulling your knee over his shoulder- “Your leg-”

He's not listening. He's too busy nudging your legs apart, bumping his shoulder into your knee until it gives to him. For the second time that night, Aizawa puts his mouth on you. This time, he inhales, embarrassingly deep.

“Ah-” the sound escapes you involuntarily. “Don't-- don't smell me.”

The hot press of tongue ignites something inside you, something innate. Your hips buck on their own, the ridge of his nose bumping against your still swollen clit. After earlier, your pussy is still puffy and well loved, and the pressure sends your spine straight.

“I should have shaved-” you babble. His arm has looped around your supporting leg. “I'm sorry, I should have-”

In the dark, every touch feels more. More powerful, more potent, more smoldering: his hand is drifting up, under your ass and in, in, in-

When his fingers join his tongue, spreading your cunt open wider from behind.

“God-” Your brain is soup, stewing in its own electric pleasure. You can feel the chill of his inhales again and it's all you can do to whine, to push away his forehead- “God, don't smell me-”

“Shut the fuck up.” He rips his mouth away from you and you can feel his eyes staring up in the dark. “Just-- shut up and take it.”

Your jaw clamps shut. Aizawa’s back on you, huffing and sucking greedily. Every muscle in your body is perking and clenching, your knee wobbling. His hand digs into your ass, dragging you so firmly against him that his nose bridge digs into your skin. The way he kisses at you is overwhelming; it feels like he’s pulling pleasure out of you, dragging it out hand over hand like it's attached to a string-

You want to cry or plead or curse or something. but Aizawa’s stolen your words from you, so all you can do is silently whine.

It's too much, it's not enough, it's-

His free hand is suddenly on your cunt, a finger pressing up and into you. The sensation shocks a gasp out of you. It's not a lot, but it's been so long since anything been inside you; the sensation only worsens your needs, tightens the want-

A second finger slides in. There's a stretch and you suddenly feel drunk, like the room has tilted on its axis.

You're going to fuck this man. You have to fuck this man. You might go insane if you don't get that cock inside you.

When you cum, it flushes every inch of your skin with a lumbering heat, like he's raking you over coals. It's ugly and brutal, it almost brings you to your knees, but Shouta holds you steady. He doesn't miss a beat, still lapping at your folds like he needs you to live.

It's horrendous. It's torturous. The air punches out of your body as he strokes your already overworked clit. Tension bunches in every muscle, pulling you over him, hunched and panting. Your fingers claw at his scalp, tug his hair, but Shouta doesn't stop.

“I came-” you protest, voice climbing higher than ever. “I came, I came-- aa--”

He pulls away to speak.

“I know.” His fingers curl and press into you again, right against a deep spot. “Do it again.”

And he's on you again.This time, he’s more forward, aggressive with how he licks and suckles. It's no longer hungry-- it's mean. It doesn't coax pleasure from you, it forces.

“I can't,” you whine. Every flick of tongue shocks more pleasure from you, burning through your cunt deep into your gut. You're boneless, you're stiff, you're wobbling-

“I can't, I can't-”

Aizawa rests his cheek against your thigh, his fingers working harder and harder. It’s much more intense in the dark, where the only thing you can focus on is the feeling and the sound of his fingers squelching into you.

“You can-” He insists into your skin. He kisses the crease of your leg. “Let go.”

“I can't-”

Oh, a pressure is building inside you, one that's rolling and rabid. You think you might literally be drooling, but you can't tell anymore; all you can think about is his fingers drilling into your pussy, urging faster-

“I can't.”

He's not telling you to shut up anymore. He just says, firmly: “You can.”

And you do.

It's a lift, that moment where gravity forgets you when the roller coaster crests the hill. There's nothing, blissful nothing, a weightless second where you can finally pull in a full breath. Maybe this is it, maybe you’ll never fall-

Then, it crashes.

You think you might have gone blind for a moment. Stars flicker over your vision and your brain just can't keep up. Earlier, he compared it to a computer resetting and you suddenly understand exactly what he meant like that: your body slumps over as if he's pulled your batteries out. Aizawa has to pull his hands from you and brace to stop the both of you from tumbling over.

“Hey now,” he grunts. “Do not fall.”

“Shut--shut up,” you manage to say, still all twitches and kicks. There’s… you’re.. There’s a lot going on right now and you can’t pull your brain together enough to process any of it. For a blissfully long time, you just are: no thoughts, no doubts, no worries.

When you finally catch yourself, Aizawa’s still down on his knees, patting your flank in silent support.

“Are you alright?” His cheeks are dreadfully wet with you, caught in his stubble

“No,” you whine. “I think I died.”

He pats the side of your thigh again. “You're fine. Help me up.”

Oh, shit. His leg. You pull yourself together enough to stand on your own. Your thighs rub together with their own wet and you’re horrified at the amount of it all. It’s down to your fucking knees. God, you didn’t even think you could do that. Blindly, you reach into the dark and take Aizawa’s hand, hoisting him off of the floor.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Peachy. I’m just old.” He pulls on your hand and brings you closer. When his lips find yours, your own taste shocks a gasp out of you. His face is as wet as your legs, stubble gritting against your chin. It’s surprisingly gentle and affectionate, as if he didn’t just change your fucking life with his tongue.

“I should get you a towel or something,” you say as you pull away.

Aizawa snorts, his grip on you only tightening. You try to imagine the look on his face. Maybe he’s licking the ridge of his teeth, maybe he’s glowering. Maybe he’s smiling, looking down at you with that almost loving affection. “You don’t think we’re done, do you?”

Uh oh.

In the dark, he pushes you backward, both of you blindly bumping into walls and the edge of the tv stand. Each bump and bruise steal a giggle out of you and him, but the laughter does nothing to diffuse the want you feel emanating from his touch. Eventually, the back of your legs hits the soft down of the bed and you pause, trying to hold him a bit farther away and failing. You had forgotten that he’s still fully dressed; his belt buckle is frigid against your skin.

“Shouta, my legs are shaking.” Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, fumbling with the edge. Maybe you can distract him, give yourself time to recover. “I can’t take anymore.”

Shouta is mirroring your motions, running his fingers across the soft of your stomach. The touch makes you feel shy and you wiggle away from the touch. Technically, he’s seen you completely naked, but touching feels like a deeper sense of knowledge, especially in the dark.

“Two orgasms?” He squeezes your side again. “That’s really all it takes?”

“Three…” you remind.

“Two.” He’s firm. “The second one doesn’t count.”

The air conditioning rushes back on and you nearly shiver. The heat of your orgasm still warms your cheeks, but you’re still naked, still exposed. “Why not?”

“Wasn’t big enough.”

“Felt big.”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “You poor, neglected thing.”

Hands find your shoulders and push, knocking you back on to the mattress with an ‘oof’. The bed shifts under his weight and you can feel him there, hovering over you in the dark, just a breath away. All you can do is lay there and try to make out the shapes of him. The red glow of the alarm clock catches his eye and you suddenly know he’s watching you, probably searching for your way in the same way.

“What-?” you breathe. “What are you gonna do with me?”

You don’t know what you want the answer to be, but you aren’t expecting a chuckle.

“I’m going to do-” Shouta breathes, deep and dark and hungry, closer to a growl than a whisper. “Whatever I want.”

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