#but he's a black man so the community does not give a shit and just talks about how much he sucks for distrusting your white fav.

[necirusalka]

i say this as someone who loves the lotus: the fact that there are people who love the lotus but hate teshin is unreal to me. and it's always exclusively because he didn't somehow magically know that she was brainwashed and wasn't nice enough to her before he knew she was brainwashed, just that she was someone wearing the tennos' dead mom's face and keeping them completely in the dark about not only her origins but also theirs. oh you love lotus because she underwent horrific trauma and loss of autonomy and is trying to navigate after having her world ripped away from her in the only way she knows? that's crazy, that's teshin's whole deal too. you love lotus because sometimes she makes mistakes but she's a deeply compassionate and selfless person at her core and everything she does is a testament to her love for others? that's crazy, that's teshin's whole deal too. you love lotus because she'd risk anything, including her life and her entire self, for her kids? that's crazy

[familyvideostevie]

all of it still matters

joel miller x fem!reader | 2.4k

you get sick and, much to joel's chagrin, refuse to take it easy.

jackson!joel, fem!reader, fluff, fainting, ellie and her dog that i invented for some reason, kind of plotless but who cares! it's all about love in the end, anyway.

a/n: welcome back to our lovebirds from just and just as. be gentle, please. it's been a while.

--

The sky is a brilliant orange. Golden hour, they used to call it.

It's probably a little too cold to be sitting on the front porch but you can't help it on an evening like this. You tug a fraying flannel of Joel's tighter around your shoulders. It's worn at the elbows and he reminds you that he'll fix it if you release it from your clutches but somehow that never happens. The journal he made you is open on your lap, almost full. You've taken care to write down not only your memories but the stories he and Tommy tell about their lives before, the day-to-day of Jackson, the jokes Ellie is particularly proud of. She recently recounted a birthday trip to a museum, laughing as she told you about pushing Joel into the water.

You take a sip of your pine tea. It's chilly through the whole day, now, and soon the morning frost will be snow. Winter was hard for a long, long time, but now it's comfortable. It means lights up in town, children throwing snowballs, community meals and dances. It means warm nights under your blankets with the furnace of a man you sleep next to, soft salve on chapped hands, a slowing down of the Infected sightings.

And it means Joel chopping wood. He should be doing it in the back yard -- usually does -- but this evening he's finishing up the trunk pieces Jesse left by the steps. A big tree had gone down at the edge of the town clearing and everyone got a few pieces once they'd split it up. Joel will no doubt give Ellie at least half of what he cuts.

The benefit of him doing it out front is you get to watch. His back is to you, but you can see the way his sleeves are rolled up, the damp hair curling over the collar. The exhale when he brings the axe down, the flex of his shoulder blades when he tugs it free of the stump. You could watch him do anything.

As if hearing your train of thought, Joel wedges the axe in the chopping block and turns to face you. He runs a hand through his hair, silver strands catching the orange light, and huffs.

"Enjoyin' yourself?" he says.

You grin at him. "I'd say so."

Two things happen at once. A headache blooms without warning at your temple, sharp enough that you wince and press your fingertips to the skin there. Joel notices and takes a step towards you but then a dog barks and his attention is drawn down the street.

"Naledi!" Ellie yells, jogging up the street after her dog. "Come on, we've talked about this!"

Joel glances back at you but you smile at him, ignoring the blooming pain in your skull. Naledi -- named after one of those characters from Ellie's comics -- runs right up to Joel and noses at his knee until he pets her. The animal loves him. You don't blame her.

"Jesus," Ellie says once she reaches the steps up to the house, panting. "She can run." She looks at the yard and scowls. "Aw, shit, Joel. Did you finish all the wood?"

Joel, one hand scratching behind Naledi's ears, levels her with an unimpressed look.

"Ain't gonna chop itself," he drawls. "Last thing we need is you holdin' an axe."

"Rude," she gasps. "You steal my dog and make fun of me. Are you hearing this?"

Ellie looks at you in mock outrage, cheeks pink from the cold. She's not a teenager anymore, but falls back into it so easily when Joel teases her. It's a treat to witness.

"I don't know, Joel, you've seen her --" You stand in the middle of your sentence and the words stop coming because your vision swims. Black spots dance across the yard and you pitch forward to brace yourself on the railing.

"Oh, fuck," Ellie says. Joel is up the porch and next to you in a blink, arm around your waist to steady you.

"You okay?" he asks, low and serious.

The spots disappear and you take some deep breaths. "I -- stood up too fast, I think."

Joel remains in your space for a few more seconds. Naledi barks, watching the whole thing with a tilted head from the grass below.

"Ellie," Joel says. "You wanna finish up the wood? I think we're gonna go inside."

"Totally," she replies. "Yeah, uh, go lie down, or something. We've got this."

Joel ushers you into the house and sits you down in the kitchen. The sun no longer peaks over the mountains so he flicks on the overhead lights, which make you groan. He's back by your side immediately, tipping your head up with a knuckle on your chin so he can look at you.

"Think you might've caught somethin'," he says. "Bout that time of year." He presses the back of his hand to your forehead and frowns.

You circle his wrist and tug his hand down. "Just tired," you say. "The overnight patrol is catching up with me."

"Hmm." Joel leaves you be and starts to fix you something to eat. You know better than to argue and, frankly, you don't have the energy to make something yourself. He sets some buttered toast in front of you and leans on the island to watch you take a small bite.

"Something to say?" you manage through a mouthful of bread.

He shrugs. "You should go to bed early." It's barely sunset but it sounds like a good idea. "You going to be okay to work tomorrow?"

Your shift at the stables with Ellie. Pretty easy, as far as labor goes. A good night's sleep should make it bearable. "Yeah, it's just mucking stalls."

"Hmm," he says again. You know what that means -- he's thinking, he's decided, he's preparing, but he'll let you reach the same conclusion in your own time. He won't force you into anything, never does, but he most certainly has an opinion.

You change the subject. "Did you grab my journal?" Joel nods and pulls it from his back pocket to set on the table next to your toast. You take another bite to appease him.

"Almost done with that thing," he says. "Gonna need another one."

"If only I knew someone who made them," you tease. That gets a gruff laugh out of him.

"What you writin' about today?"

"You, Tommy, and motorcycles." Tommy had told you all about the famed birthday ride at the last family dinner. Everyone had heard the story but you, so their voices overlapped about a hundred times as they fought to be the one to explain.

Joel chuckles. "You ever been on one?"

You take one more bite of your toast and push the plate away. He's on it in a second, taking it over to the sink.

"No," you reply. "I don't even know the last time I saw a working one. Just stripped metal out in the wild."

"Think you'd like it," he says. "Good way to see things. Bit of an adrenaline rush."

"Yeah, because there's a shortage of that these days."

The joke falls flat and your eyelids start to droop so you don't see Joel's reaction anyway. Your head throbs.

"Bed," Joel says, softly. Hands on your shoulders, rubbing up and down your arms. "C'mon."

He ushers you up, hand on your back on the staircase. He waits while you brush your teeth and helps you into an old shirt and threadbare pants with a gentle touch.

When you're settled under the covers he perches on the edge of the bed and lays his hand on your forehead once again. A frown makes its way back onto his face and he checks your cheeks, your neck.

"I'm just tired, Joel," you mumble. "It's alright."

"Hmm." He kisses the inside of your wrist lightly and stands. "Gonna go check on Ellie, alright? I'll be back soon."

You fight to keep your eyes open and fail.

__

You feel like shit in the morning. Your head is pounding, your body aching. But you've had worse -- you've had broken bones and bruised ribs. You've been sick, you've been tired, you've been scared. This is nothing compared to life and death. You can muck a few stalls with a headache.

Joel isn't here -- a note on the counter says he got called to fix someone's sink and that he thinks you should stay home. You ignore it and head to the stables, taking deep breaths and walking slow.

Ellie shows up not long after you arrive and finds you leaning on your pitchfork in one of the stalls. Your stomach is churning but you're upright, still.

"You look like shit," she says.

"Thanks, kid," you grumble. "Where's your dog?"

"Dina's taking her on the trails today." They've been training Naledi to smell and track Infected.

You sway a little and make some noise of assent.

"Dude, are you sure you should be here today?"

If you leave now, she'll have to do the stalls herself. "I -- let me do a few more. I'm fine. It's alright."

She gives you a look she almost certainly learned from Joel but doesn't argue.

You are fine...for a little while. Ellie seems content to let you work in silence but you feel her eyes on you as you shovel shit and old hay. Just one more, you tell yourself. Then you'll go home and lie down. One more turns into two turns into three until you're scooping a big pile of straw and the spots dance across your vision again.

"Oh," you say with a gasp, and reach out for the wall, for something, anything to lean on. But your hand finds only air and then you're tipping, tipping, and you hear Ellie's Oh shit! and then --

Nothing.

No, I caught her before her head hit the ground. Are you on your back? Wait til she wakes to move her. Sounds like Esther. God, it smells like shit in here. Someone's hand on your forehead. He's coming --

You blink a few times and the roof of the barn comes into view. A groan makes its way up your throat without permission.

"Fuck," you say. "What --"

"Jesus," Ellie exhales. She's on her knees on one side of you, tugging at her fingers. "God, why did you come to work today?"

"I--"

"Where is she?" Joel's voice echoes through the barn and you try to get up on your elbows when you see him. The sudden movement makes your head pound again and hands on your shoulders help steady you. You're blinking into Joel's face, his creased brow and frown deepening as he kneels next to you.

A warm, weathered palm cups your cheek and his gaze catalogs the scene. He does this a lot -- takes in as many details as he can and makes a quick choice on how to proceed. It's a well-honed ability, one that's kept him alive this long. It's kept you and Ellie alive, and countless others in his company, too. Knowing how bad something is, and whether or not you can fix it.

He huffs, some of the tension melting from his face. "Just tired my ass," he mutters. "How're you feelin'?"

"Guess I fainted," you say weakly.

Ellie snorts. "No shit."

"Guess so," Joel echoes. "You wanna get up?" You nod. He does most of the work, arm around your waist as you stand and sway and end up tucked into his side.

"Surprised your knees work this well," you mutter. He makes a low noise in his throat and squeezes your side but otherwise ignores you.

"Think we're gonna go home, if that's alright," he says. You realize the crowd is a little bigger than you thought. Ellie, Esther, and some of the younger boys who work the horses stand nearby. Your head pounds too much for you to be properly embarrassed. You'll have to thank Ellie later for keeping an eye on you but for now, you let Joel lead you out of the stables without waiting for a reply.

Joel walks you home slowly.

"Did someone come get you?" you murmur. He nods.

"Kid said you fainted," he says. "I see you ignored my suggestion this mornin'."

"Yeah, but if I stayed in bed you wouldn't get to be a knight in shining armor."

There is a small voice in the back of your head that reminds you how bad it can be to be sick in this world. You've all seen it -- sickness takes a few people every year, a handful in bad ones. This is probably just the flu. You know that and Joel knows that. And even that can be dangerous, but you're here with the one man in the world who could defeat pretty much anything. Joel, who will keep you safe, who will see you through it. You really, truly believe that. And you want him to believe it, too.

"How polite of you," he says.

Your boot catches on the ground and you stumble a little. Joel slows you to a stop.

"I'm fine," you remind him. "Just sick, I guess." He huffs but you start walking again. "You really looked worried back there, you know."

"Yeah, well." You reach the stairs up to your house. He tightens his hold on you, practically taking all of your weight as you go up them one at a time. "Was worried you fell into some horse shit. Smell up the whole damn house."

That gets a laugh out of you. He gets you up the porch, across the threshold.

"You gonna listen to me this time?" he asks, sitting you down on the entryway bench. "Stay home, rest up?"

"I'll think about it," you sigh. "You gonna take care of me, Dr. Miller?"

He kneels in front of you to take off your boots and smirks. How many times have you done this? Peeling off each other's boots after a long day. When one of you is sick, when one of you is hurt. Your head is pounding and you almost certainly have a fever but Joel's gentle hands and familiar smirk sets you at ease. You're going to be doing this forever.

"C'mon," he says. "You know I'll take care of you."

He tucks your boots under the bench and puts his palms on your thighs. You lean forward to kiss him and miss by a mile, lips landing at the corner of his mouth.

"My head hurts," you say against his cheek. "I love you."

Joel sighs. "I know, baby," he murmurs. "I got you."

He does.

[mysicklove]

Toddlers are known to look at their caregivers to see how they should react when they trip and fall. Even if the stumble of their wobbly legs doesn’t hurt them, in many cases, they will still cry if their guardians fuss over them. Although, if the adult doesn’t give them a time of day usually the little beasts get up and go back to playing with their friends.

This phenomenon is pretty common for the toddler you raise. The small child seemed to master how to react during certain situations depending on who is watching him, you or his wicked older brother.

The three of you go to the park where Yuuji runs around the playground, letting out giggles and squeals when Nobara and Megumi play tag with him. You somehow drift off on Sukunas shoulder on a nearby bench, closing your eyes and slumping against your boyfriend, content with the fact that he has his eye on the reckless child.

As to be aspected, Yuuji, after being warned very harshly by his “doting” brother to go slow when going down the steps of the playground, ignores the caution and sprints down the stairs only to miss a step and fall straight to the bark. It wasn’t a hard fall — his legs collapsed beneath him, and he landed on his knees with a plop. No harm, no injuries, mostly just shock of him falling a couple feet into the bark.

The first thing he does is look toward you, unconsciously questioning if he is about to cry out from the pain so that you can pick him up and coddle him. But he can’t catch your sleeping gaze and instead finds himself face-to-face with Sukuna.

His brother only raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head as if to say “i dare you to cry right now”. The two of them make eye contact for longer than necessary, silent communication, and Yuuji sniffles, gulps, and slowly gets up before going back to playing.

The elder Itadori puts his hand in front of your eyes, blocking out the sun from disturbing your sleep and continues to watch his younger brother walk much more carefully up and down the playground. It was good to not coddle the boy; Sukuna didn’t want Yuuji to grow up spoiled; he was to be a man, strong just like him.

But of course, Sukuna happened to be raising him with you, a person with the biggest soft spot for the child. And so when you wake up from your nap, and Sukuna calls the boy over to leave, you notice the tiny piece of bark sticking out of the boy's leg. It was surface level — Yuuji didn’t even notice it, but still, the image looked much more gruesome than it was really.

You gasp and begin to fuss over his “injured” leg, asking the boy if he tripped and fell if he was hurt at all if he was okay. And suddenly, to Yuuji, it seemed that maybe that fall did hurt a little too bad. Maybe he wasn't okay like he thought.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes.

“Don’t you give me that shit. You’re fine. You tripped like five minutes ago, and I know it didn’t hurt.”

Yuuji shakes his head, ignoring his brother and rubbing his eyes while he looks up at you. “O-Owie…” he whines, rubbing at his knee.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry baby, I wasn’t watching.” He reaches his hands up to you, and you scoop him up while he begins to cry into your neck.

It was a fake cry, obviously enough. It makes the elder Itadoris mouth hang open. “You little liar!”

“Don’t be mean, Sukuna.” You say, teasing him because you realized quickly enough that the boys “cries” didn’t produce any liquid from his eyes. You didn’t mind spoiling the boy either way.

Sukuna, realizing you also understood, lets out a dramatic groan, shaking his head before exclaiming, “Why am I surrounded by weaklings?!”

You just laugh at him, thinking about to a few years earlier during highschool. Sukuna was the one who would dramatize his pain whenever he got in a fight. You would listen to his whines (after he profusely exclaimed that he won by a longshot) over a busted lip and a black eye while you would fuss over him, just as you are doing to Yuuji.

He got into a lot of fights during highschool because Sukuna could never get enough of you fretting over him. He liked when you played nurse and coddled him, way too similar to the way you cooed at Yuuji.

The two of them, although Sukuna would never admit it, are way too similar. Both are strong and independent boys who happen to turn into whiny, attention-seeking puppies when you are around.

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

[ripplestitchskein]

I find the general idea of Stolitz being “toxic” to be fucking hilarious. It’s thrown around so easily like it should be accepted that they fit this definition and….they really, really don’t lol. Like they have a pretty chill and common miscommunication and personal issues interfering with wants and desires conflict. Like I cannot stress how fucking chill it is. They don’t actively hurt one another intentionally, neither are trying to murder the other directly or indirectly, they are not on opposing sides of a larger external conflict save for inherent world class dynamics, they don’t manipulate each other or work against each other, etc. They say hurtful things and argue and are oblivious to the other’s issues but like, in a fairly normal neurodivergence and historical trauma driven way.

They do begin with a mutually agreed upon transactional sexual dynamic, which is often the crux of these “Stolitz is soooo toxic” arguments to the point the really intense anti’s cry SA. A transactional sexual dynamic Blitz was so okay with when it is no longer agreeable to the other party, and they communicate that and change the parameters in a way that gives him full autonomy, he spends half an episode trying to return to that dynamic. Much trauma. Very coerced. 🙄

There is a power imbalance but it only exists in the sense that one person is societally more powerful by nature of his birth and ignorant to it by nature of his upbringing. Stolas does not force Blitz into said transactional sex dynamic by exerting his power or influence so it’s largely irrelevant save for how it impacts Blitz’s personal self worth issues and it is never from a place of malicious intent. Which is what matters in media? Character intent and decisions are literally the crux of the narrative?? Stolas figures out it’s a problem for the type of relationship he really wants to have and corrects it and even goes above and beyond to ensure that Blitz will suffer no fall out from his choice if he decides to not pursue their romantic relationship further. Like, toxic WHOMST? Just, don’t talk to me about toxic until they get hot and bothered about how well the other tried to actively murder them. We have had zero poisonings or major betrayals in this ship and ya’ll throwing around toxic like words have no meaning.

“But he called Blitz his impish little plaything! He thinks of Blitz as a toy! As a sub-species!” Or maybe, just maaaaybe the sexually inexperienced character who is making shit up as he goes along based on his canonically identified incorrect perceptions of what the other wants/likes as well as ignorance of his own power and position thought he was just being sexy and cute? Just maybe? Like can we apply a smidgeon of deductive reasoning based on the sum rather than the parts? As a treat.

It just speaks to what I have observed as probable immaturity/lack of life experience driving a lot of the criticism or straight up vitriol regarding the show’s major conflicts. A very black and white application of moral purity that deems anything not rainbows and sunshine as toxic and where the ultimate goal is some nebulous and frankly hella ableist concept of “healthy”.

A similar thing plays out with regards to Octavia and the classification of Stolas as a “bad parent” because he is pursuing a relationship and has issues of his own to deal with on top of parenting. Heaven forbid a closeted gay man raised in isolation going through some late in life awakenings is not perfectly navigating an ill defined relationship and a divorce and raising a child on top of his myriad of mental health issues. What gets me the most is she’s not even a young child, she’s 17 possibly even 18 at this point in the timeline but the way people act he abandoned an infant at a flophouse to get his rocks off with someone who fears he will smite them down with his incredible Goetian might and if they refuse they’ll be living out of a gutter eating dirt because they wouldn’t perform sexually for him. Instead of the in-universe reality where the most egregious thing Stolas has done is fail to consider his daughters perspective and how this impacts her, made some inappropriate sexual comments really early on in front of her when he was still excited, and forgot, during a major life upheaval, a promise to watch a meteor shower he made to her like a decade ago. He didn’t even forget the promise itself, he just forgot what day it was. Like I forget shit I promised my kids last week much less when they were like 5.

Like there is such a huge disconnect between actual toxic behavior portrayals in media with regards to relationships and parenting, or hell toxic relationships and parents in real life, and what is going on in Helluva Boss. This is ignoring the fact that the actual universe of the show, which is what should be the metric when examining character dynamics not reality, has established real toxicity in both relationships and behavior, and has shown us time and time again how that toxicity contrasts with our characters and their relationships, be it Stolitz or Fizzmodeous or Moxxie/Millie or the parenting dynamics of Blitz & Loona and Stolas & Octavia. We have examples of toxic relationships, and we have examples of toxic parents in this world and we’ve been shown that the relationships of the main characters is in opposition to them.

But even if you were to take the, imo incorrect, position of applying real world considerations to fictional worlds it still doesn’t track as toxic.

Do you realize how many sexual transactions and power imbalances occur in relationships everyday as just a matter of course?

Like “I’ll wear that outfit you like if you do this for me?” Normal, Transactional. Accepted straight couple in a sitcom premise. I would wager “I’ll preform this sex act if you do X” is said in one way or another without anyone batting an eye a hundred times a day. And that’s ignoring the implication that transactional sex is inherently problematic. It isn’t, it’s the coercive aspect that is an issue and even then we get real handwavey about it in reality when the situation isn’t explicitly coercive.

“I’m a police officer/government agent/politician/media influencer/sole household income earner that has the ability to fuck up your entire life/reputation/financial stability just by nature of my job and how well we are getting along” is perfectly fine and normal. No one would suggest that a police office or government agent can only be involved with someone of equal systemic or social power in reality. Do my partner and I have a toxic power imbalance because I am the sole working person in our household and they are a stay at home parent and I hold all the financial power? No, that’s fucking silly.

Not to be all “sweet summer children I grew up in the trenches of toxic” about it but it’s the most baffling part of this fandom that a pretty low key conflict and relationship dynamic, where neither party is actively trying to hurt the other and has approached the entire thing from a place of earnest confusion and ignorance and is working through it in a pretty normal way is classified as “toxic”. Get back to me when they are poisoning each other, have killed several of each other’s loved ones and there is necromancy involved.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey gator, can you make a fic of Homelander dating a trans reader?

(Also you’re doing amazing, I’m so proud of you, and you’re flipping cool :D)

John Gillman/Homelander x ftm reader

Headcanons

Im gonna ignore the fact that Homelander would definitely be transphobic in canon, and write this in my canon where I make the rules.

John probably wouldn’t get it in the beginning, as he was definitely raised not being told about the LGBTQ community by vought, outside of the fact that it didn’t meet Americas standards. So, imagine his surprise when he starts having feelings for you, a man.

You weren’t even another hero, you were just a member of the marketing team who worked closer to The Seven than the rest. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t fawn over them or fear them, or how you didn’t seem to put up with their shit when they made impossible demands.

The only one you seemed to get along with in the beginning was Black Noir and Starlight, as they were both polite in their own ways.

John couldn’t figure out what it was about you, and it would take some time before he realized you were trans, which he’s able to figure out pretty quickly with his x-ray vision. Whether you wear a binder, have top and bottom surgery, or a third thing, he can spot it, since you would look different than cis guys.

He doesn’t know what to do with that information, especially since he’s already attracted to you and has tried to woo you in his own, showboaty way. Its kinda like watching a peacock strutting around trying to attract a mate.

Homelander is very bad at it though, and is kinda obvious about it too, maybe only to you though. Hes cute in his own way though, as he reminds you of a puppy at times, a very dangerous puppy with laser eyes, so in the end you make take the step and ask him out.

John would sputter and blush, but agree to go on a date. Hes never been one for privacy, so expect a lot of questions about being trans, even very intimate ones that you wouldn’t normally ask a stranger.

I can’t say hed be a great boyfriend, but that’s not because you are trans or anything. It’s mainly because he’s just not a good person in general, and he’s very busy as the leader of The Seven and keeping up his ratings.

But if your fine with both of you having busy schedules, him breaking into your apartment at any time of the day, and him not being public about your relationship as it would ruin his ratings, then I say go for it.

I don’t think he would go out of his way to research the trans experience, as he has you to answer all his questions if he has any. John doesn’t end up caring much about gender as a whole, but he will finance any surgeries or treatment if you want any, because he loves you and shows it through pampering you any chance he gets.

If you have breasts though, he would mourn if you got top surgery, since hed want them in his mouth all the time. But just give him something else to fixate on, and he will be fine. Be it your fingers or your next chest, or something third.

If you just wear a binder, expect him to keep a very close eye on your ribcage with his x-ray vision, and expect to be scolded if you wear it for too long, or if he can see it damaging your ribs. He would probably go out of his way to rip it right off you If you have worn it too long, he will just buy you a new one anyways.

All in all, he’s supportive in his own ways, even though those ways can be… questionable at times. He never actually questions if you are a man or not, and never misgenders you, and lashes out as anyone who does, but he does lack behind in certain areas. John does his best with what he’s got though.

[crucifiedfaerie]

Nicotine Stains | Pt. 2 ༉₊˚✧

Modern!Kylo x Fem!Reader AU

➴ Summary: As your relationship with Kylo grows behind closed doors, so does your worry and confusion about what exactly you are to him.

➴ Part One

➴ Word Count: 5.2k

➴ Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, dom!kylo, modern!delinquent!kylo au, smoking, swearing, quite a bit of angst, kylo is a stupid man who doesn't know how real relationships work apparently, he also doesn't know what communication is, reader is in her head about it, mutual pining, finnpoe my loves make an appearance (its canon to me idgaf), fluff, kinda hurt with comfort, SMUT (unprotected PiV sex, car sex, softdom!kylo, kinda breeding kink ?? oops), typos probably

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams @beautifulbluejay @mochiseni )

A/N: im alive !!!!! holy shit i promised this would be out in like november. oops. the writers block has been so real im sorry. now that i have this out though, chapter two of growing pains will be coming next !! i promise i didn't abandon that.... anyways i hope you enjoy !!

masterlist

You impatiently sat, knees tucked beneath you and head resting on the back of your family’s couch so you could look out the window. The men in your life had been away for a week and a half, and while you couldn't deny having Finn out of your hair for once was like a peaceful vacation in itself, you missed Kylo like crazy. Having to look at his sleek, black Charger parked in front of your house every time you looked out of your window didn't necessarily help either.

When he told you Finn had asked him to tag along on their annual camping trip, you couldn't help but laugh. The image of Kylo trying to fit his tall, broad frame into a tiny shared tent with your father and brother was too hilarious to you.

"What’s so funny, kid?" He had laughed back at you.

Usually, Poe was the one to go on those trips with your brother and father, but with him away at pilot school, Finn had been lonely recently. He wasn't expecting himself to take it so hard, but gods did he miss Poe. Despite missing Kylo, you were glad he agreed to go and keep Finn company. Your father, of course, was also overjoyed to hear that Kylo would be joining.

Your eyes lit up as your father's beat-up car pulled into the driveway. You watched as they unpacked the car and exchanged words you couldn't hear before Kylo parted ways and headed to his car with his bag hanging off his shoulder. When he reached the driver's side door, he noticed you in the window and gave you a subtle wink before getting into the Charger and pulling away. 

Part of you was expecting... hoping for him to come in, but you should have known he wouldn't. It's not like your family knew of your weird relationship that had been blossoming for the past month. You couldn't help but still feel a little disappointed, you hoped maybe he would have just said fuck it and come in and kissed you. Maybe he didn't miss you as much as you had missed him? Your heart sank at the idea. 

The mixed signals Kylo had been giving you were starting to give you whiplash. One minute he would be in your room treating you like you're the only person in the world who matters to him, and the next he'd be standing in the kitchen talking to Finn or your mother, not even giving you so much as a glance. 

The thought of asking him about what exactly the two of you were honestly made you wanna die. You didn't want to come off as clingy and ruin whatever it was you had, but the twinge of hurt that came with every time he ignored your presence was starting to become… too much. 

You sighed and walked upstairs to your room, feeling defeated. You practically collapsed in your chair before putting on your headphones and starting on some schoolwork, attempting to think about anything but Kylo. 

A thump muffled by the music in your ears broke you from your calculus-induced trance. When you turned around in your chair you were met with Kylo on your bedroom floor, who you assumed had just fallen through your window. You giggled at him, pulling your headphones down to rest around your neck. 

He groaned before sitting up and smiling at you. "I meant to do that." 

"Sure." You laughed, getting out of your seat to join him on the floor.

Kylo leaned against the wall, pulling you into his lap. He gave you a quick kiss before pulling away and looking down at you with those pretty brown eyes you can never seem to get enough of these days. "I leave for nearly two weeks to go into the middle of nowhere, and I can't even get a text from my girl when I get home?" He asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

You felt the warmth creep across your cheeks at the way he called you his. "I got carried away with homework, I didn't even realize what time it was." You glanced at the window behind him, noticing the dark indigo hue of the sky.

Kylo smiled, peppering small kisses down your jaw. "What were you listening to?" He lightly tapped your headphones with his long fingers. You took them off before carefully placing them over his ears. "Chevelle? I see my good taste continues to rub off on you kid." He grinned.

"Don't be so full of yourself. My dad loves Chevelle, I got it from him." You laughed, taking the headphones from him and tossing them into your chair. Kylo smiled before standing up, taking you with him, and setting you on your bed gently. His kiss was needy, and he slowly pushed you backward until you were lying down.

He pulled away, out of breath slightly. "Do you know how much I missed this? You were on my mind every night I was there... I couldn't even jack off because we were in that stupid tent..." He paused, shutting his eyes. "You didn't hear that." 

You giggled. "You jerk off thinking about me? Are you obsessed with me or something?"

Kylo laughed, rolling his eyes. "You idiot." He attacked your face with kisses that tickled, causing you to let out a half scream. "Shhh kid, your mom's gonna think you're being murdered up here." 

As if he had summoned her, you heard a knock at your bedroom door. Kylo quickly stood up from your bed, rushing over to your closet and maneuvering himself inside before shutting the door quietly.

You shook your head at him, stifling a laugh and taking your seat back at your desk, pretending to look like you were doing something. "You can come in." 

Your mother opened the door with a soft creak. "Were you talking to someone?"

You quickly fabricated a lie. "I was just on the phone with a friend from my class." 

Your mom nodded, briefly glancing around your room. "I actually came up here to tell you to ask Kylo if he's coming to dinner on Friday. I meant to ask when they came home earlier, but he left so fast I missed him." 

Your hands felt sweaty. Why would she ask you to ask him? Did she know? "Why wouldn't you ask Finn to talk to Kylo?" 

She leaned on the doorframe slightly. "Well he's been driving you to and from class a lot recently, just ask him for me tomorrow would you? And you better make sure to thank that boy for driving you around! It's very nice of him."

It took everything in you to hold back the laugh that threatened to surface. You just knew Kylo was doing the same. "Yeah, I'll ask him." You had almost forgotten you had class in the morning. Fuck.

"Thank you. Goodnight, I love you." She began to shut your door. "Remember. Tell him thank you." 

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, I love you." You laughed as you listened to her footsteps disappear down the hall.

You leaned forward in your chair to open your closet door. Kylo chuckled softly. "Is there something you needed to say to me?... Sorry, I couldn't hear the conversation very well with this door in the way." He smirked, taking a step towards you. 

"Oh shut up." You smiled back at him. 

He pulled you closer to him, wrapping his long arms around you. Your face pressed into his shirt, the smell of blackberries and pomelo from his cologne filling your senses. "It's fine, you can thank me in different ways." He whispered into the top of your head.

You giggled nervously, feeling your face get hot again. "Yeah?"

Kylo took your face into his hands and leaned back as if to study you. "Yeah..." He smirked. "But not tonight, you have class tomorrow, remember?" He kissed you again before letting you go and making his way towards your window. 

You groaned at him. "Why not just stay the night?" You asked sweetly, following him.

He smiled down at you with adoration. "What, so we both wake up late and you miss your class? Your parents would hate me." Kylo smirked

My mother and father could never hate you, stupid.

"Fine." You sighed, not having the courage to argue.

He leaned down and kissed you again, deeper this time. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?" 

"Okay." You said it so quietly you weren't sure if he even heard it. He ducked out of your window, shutting it quietly. You watched as he climbed down and went to his car in the darkness. Once his tail lights had disappeared at the end of your street, you collapsed onto your bed, allowing your body to succumb to sleep and silence your racing mind. 

Friday afternoon, you sat at the table in your overly warm kitchen, trying to finish some classwork as your mother cooked. The sound of the doorbell made your heart leap out of your chest. You'd been anticipating today all week and while you were hoping it was Kylo at the door, a part of you was also hoping he'd show up late so you wouldn't have to endure getting ignored by him so much.

You heard your dad open the door. "Hi Son, what a pleasant surprise!" You felt your palms get clammy. "Finn! Come down here!" Your father shouted up the stairs. You craned your neck to look around the corner and see who it was, hearing Finn's quick footsteps as he made his way down the steps. 

It was Poe. He stood in the foyer, dressed nicely but still wearing that worn, brown leather jacket he always wore. He held a bouquet of orange and white lilies. You smiled, those were Finn's favorite. 

"Poe!" Finn nearly knocked Poe over with how quickly he hugged him. "You said you wouldn't be back until summer!" 

Poe wrapped his arms around him, laughing. "You know I had to surprise you." He pressed a kiss to Finn's forehead. "Hey, don't crush the flowers, they barely made it on the trip down here." 

Finn pulled away, beaming at him. He took the flowers into his hands before kissing Poe.

You looked at your mother, who was grinning almost as wide as Finn was. "Aren't they just adorable? When you find someone, they better treat you as good as Poe treats Finn." She smiled at you. You gave her a weak smile back and nodded, looking back at the textbook in front of you. 

You couldn't help but wish Kylo would do that. Showing up at your door with flowers, instead of sneaking through your window no later than 11 pm to smoke weed and fuck. It wasn't like your parents wouldn't approve of him... they have always adored Kylo for no reason at all. You attempted to focus on the pages in front of you, it was ridiculous to dwell so deeply on a man you weren't even actually sure was yours.

Kylo showed up fashionably late of course. Your mother beamed at the sight of him standing in the entryway. "Kylo honey, I was worried you weren't going to come. Go ahead and sit." 

He smiled sweetly at her. "You know I wouldn't miss your wonderful cooking for anything." To your surprise, he took the seat right beside you, something he never does when he's over for dinner. 

Other than small glances, Kylo did not acknowledge your presence at the beginning of dinner. He mostly caught up with Poe and talked cars with your father. As you picked at the food on your plate, you felt a large, warm hand rest on your thigh. When you turned your head to look up at Kylo, he seemed unphased, deep in conversation with Poe.

"How is pilot school treating you, man?" Kylo asked, his one hand inching further up your thigh as he took a bite from his fork with the other hand. 

You felt warmth creep across your cheeks as you clenched your thighs together, causing his grip on you to tighten slightly.

He cannot possibly be serious? The fucking dinner table?

You looked at him again, chewing on the inside of your mouth and attempting to relax as much as you could. Kylo glanced down at you briefly, a sly smirk playing at his lips and his pupils large. He turned back to his conversation with Poe as he inched his long fingers underneath your skirt, brushing them against your clothed cunt.

You felt a moan threaten to escape your lips so you pretended to clear your throat, causing Kylo to fight back a grin. He was enjoying this way too much... This was all too much. You quickly grabbed his hand in an attempt to keep him from going any further. Thank god for your mother's tablecloth or everyone would have seen what was happening. 

You weren't sure what it was, maybe the obvious flush on your face, but your mother had noticed something was up. "Is something wrong sweetheart?" 

You tried to think of something, anything reasonable to say but your brain felt so foggy. 

Oh you know, Finn's best friend and so-called 'angel' in your eyes is playing with my cunt under the dinner table but doesn't have the decency to take me out on a date, no biggie.

"I'm fine, it's just really hot in here." You managed to get out, fiddling with the neck of your sweater. Kylo had removed his hand which was now resting on your knee. You sighed, silently thanking the gods of every pantheon you could think of. Moaning in front of your entire family at dinner wasn't exactly ideal. Despite the wetness growing in your panties, you wanted nothing more than to strangle him right there.

The rest of dinner was a blur, and at some point, Finn, Poe, and Kylo had disappeared to the basement, most likely to drink and play video games. This allowed you to sneak away to your room, the noise from the TV downstairs dissipating into a soft murmur as you shut your bedroom door behind you.

-

"FINN! I'm getting obliterated over here and you're on the other side of the map fucking around!" 

"I'm literally almost there calm down!" 

Kylo sat on the couch, listening as Finn and Poe bickered over the game they were playing, loud gunshots and explosions emanating from the television as Poe was, in fact, being obliterated. 

His knee bounced up and down nervously. As much as he enjoyed seeing Poe again and playing video games like old times, all Kylo could think about was seeing you again. 

You had seemed a little off today, did he do something wrong?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, taking a few minutes to type, delete, and retype his message to you, finally deciding on something lighthearted. 

Kylo: where'd you disappear to kid? you're missing out on some riveting gameplay down here.

The blue glow of his screen illuminated in his hands a few minutes later, and he felt a wave of excitement course through his body when he saw that you had responded. 

♡: i forgot i had a paper i needed to finish.

Kylo frowned at his phone, it was 9:30 pm on a Friday. Surely he had done something to upset you. He sighed before trying to formulate another text to send back to you.

Finn’s voice pulled him from his anxious thoughts. “There are more beers in the garage, I’ll be right back.” Kylo watched as he kissed Poe quickly before sprinting up the stairs.

“So,” Poe started, leaning closer with a grin on his face. “Any new girls or are you still fixated on your best friend's sister?” 

Kylo groaned, knowing this would come up. “That was in middle school, I wouldn’t have told you then had I known now you’d still be bringing this up years later.” He laughed nervously.

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Ren.” Poe laughed. “Elementary, middle, high school… Hell, four months ago before I left, you were talking about her.” He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth before continuing. “I don’t know why you won’t just go for it. Their parents already love you, I don’t think it’ll be a big deal like you think it will be.”

“You don’t get it Poe, they like me as Finn’s friend. She’s in college and I have nothing ahead of me except a court date for a speeding ticket next week. But if you must know, we’ve been… talking and hanging out for the past month and I’m pretty sure I’ve already made her mad at me so… yeah.” Kylo said tiresomely. 

Poe’s eyes lit up. “What the hell dude? Were you just not going to tell me-”

“We got lucky, there was only three left.” Their conversation was cut short, to Kylo’s relief, by Finn coming down the stairs holding three crisp cans of beer, the condensation leaving a damp mark on the front of his shirt.

“I was actually about to head home.” Kylo said, standing from the old, sunken couch. 

Finn groaned in protest, setting the cans on the water-stained coffee table. “Just stay for another game or two, I’ll let you take my spot.” 

“Yeah, just another game or two.” Poe chimed in, his eyes wide, silently pleading with him to stay in hopes Kylo would tell him more. 

“Sorry guys, I’m just really tired tonight.” Kylo shot Poe a look. “I’m coming back over tomorrow.” With Finn’s back turned momentarily, he took the opportunity to mouth “Drop it.”

“Fine, but no flaking out on us or we will drag you out of your home.” Finn smirked.

Kylo nodded in agreement, laughing slightly, before making his way up the stairs into the kitchen. Your parents had already gone to bed, the refrigerator humming and ticking clock being the only noise that filled the quiet darkness. 

He silently made his way up the stairs to your room, taking a breath once he reached your door before opening it slowly. Once inside, he noticed your empty desk chair and your computer which cast a soft glow on you, lying face first on your bed. You turned your head to look at him.

"Making really great progress on that paper I see." He smirked at you, that stupid smirk you love to hate and hate to love. 

"I'm tired." That was all you could manage to say to him. After his stunt at the dinner table and his general behavior in the past month, you honestly wanted nothing more than for him to just go away.

“What's wrong pretty girl?” Kylo’s voice was soft and sweet like honey. You felt the bed dip beside you and two strong arms wrap around you. “Are you mad at me for dinner? I-” 

You sat straight up to look at him, causing him to stand up from your bed. “Yes! Yes, I’m mad at you for dinner.” You shouted at him, as much as a whisper would allow you to. “You don't even have the decency to come through the front door most times, and when you do, you act like I don't exist. I don't understand you, if I had known I'd just be a fuck buddy to you I wouldn't have given you my virginity in the first place.”

For a few moments, Kylo stared at you. He looked surprised but there was a softness and concern in his eyes. “That isn't all you are to me, I promise… I just... feel like I'm not good enough for you sometimes.” 

You sighed, collapsing back into your pillows. Your capacity to care or argue with him was spent. “I wish you had figured that out before you invited me out onto the roof to smoke with you.” 

The room was quiet for a few moments before you heard the sound of your window opening and closing. He left your house wordlessly, with nothing but dead silence left in his wake. 

You felt hot tears sting at the corners of your eyes, regretting nothing more than ever allowing Kylo to get close to you. 

Asshole.

You hadn't realized you’d fallen asleep until you were woken up to the sound of your phone ringing. Lifting your head from your tear-soaked pillow, you tried to adjust your eyes to the brightness of your phone to see who was calling you so late.

Kylo.

You nearly groaned, debating whether or not it was a better idea to just ignore him. You ultimately decided against your better judgment.

“What do you want?” You spoke sleepily into the phone.

“Just come down here for a moment.”

You got up and looked out your window. Kylo stood in front of your house, leaning against his car with his phone pressed against his face. “No.” You were about to hang up on him before you heard his voice again.

“You can hate me, that's fine. I just want to show you one thing.” There was a quick desperation to his voice. “Please.”

“Fine.” You sighed, hanging up the phone before slipping your shoes on quickly and opening your window. Once on your roof, you had wished you’d grabbed a jacket. The cold, midnight air nipped at your exposed arms, causing you to shiver. 

You climbed down your mother's trellis, taking extra care not to crush any of the vines that would bloom beautifully in the spring. 

You felt the frozen dew from the grass brush across your ankles as you made your way to Kylo’s car and watched as he opened the passenger side door for you. The warmth of the car interior enveloped you as you sat down, and once fully inside, he shut your door before practically running around his car to his side. 

He pulled away from your house with a roar from his engine, and you hoped your parents didn't hear it. 

“Where are we going?” You asked unamused. 

“Somewhere I like to go when I want to be alone... I think you’ll like it.” Kylo said softly, glancing at you once before focusing on the road again. 

You sighed, watching as he pulled onto a backroad. The canopy of trees shaded the car from the moonlight, only the glow of the radio dimly illuminating the interior. 

“You really shouldn't have, you know… Taking me somewhere nice like the forest before murdering me.” You said sarcastically.

Kylo laughed. “Where else would I dispose of the body? Suburbs are much too populated.” He joked, reaching for his cigarettes before offering one to you. 

You tried to hide the smirk that played on your lips, hating how easily he could make you laugh. You accepted the cigarette, watching as the trees cleared to reveal a moonlit lake. 

Kylo put the charger in park, before turning in his seat to face you. “I’m sorry I've treated you the way I have this past month.” He reached up to light your cigarette for you, not breaking eye contact. He ignited his own, taking a few puffs before continuing. “I've always been so scared of not being good enough for you or living up to your family's standards… and now I've allowed my fears to hurt you. But I can assure you you're way more than just a quick fuck to me, I can't apologize enough for making you feel that way.” 

You watched as Kylo reached into his back seat for something, retrieving a stack of small notes and colored paper. He smiled nervously before handing them to you. 

As you flipped through them in silence, you tried to make sense of what you were looking at. In the stack were dozens of notes and cards all in his handwriting, some more recent and some that seemed to have been written by a much younger Kylo. You looked up at him, no longer able to hide the smile on your face. 

“I would write them and always get way too nervous to give them to you… but I kept them anyway.” Kylo said nervously, speaking quickly. “I've liked you since we were children, Poe always-”

You cut him off with a kiss, his warm lips immediately melting into yours as he kissed back with need and desire. Kylo extinguished his cigarette in his car's ashtray before traveling his hands up to hold your face.

After a few minutes, he pulled away, allowing you both to catch your breath. Still cradling your face in his hands, Kylo looked at you with a gaze so soft, that you thought you'd melt into a puddle on the floor of his Charger. 

He spoke softly. “Be my girlfriend. Say you'll be mine and my fears will be far behind me, I promise.” 

You beamed at him, nodding quickly. “I'm yours.”

Kylo’s lips connected with yours once again and he kissed you feverishly. He reached down to fiddle with something before his seat extended back with a dull thump. Without ever breaking the kiss, Kylo pulled you with him to the backseat, laying you down so he was hovering above you. 

You quickly fumbled with his belt, trying to blindly undo the clasp. He brushed your hands away, kissing his way down your now trembling body and stopping just above the waistband of your pants. Hooking his fingers into them, he quickly and expertly removed both your pants and underwear in one go, exposing your bare cunt to the cool air of his car. You watched as he threw your clothes somewhere into the dark void that was the front seat. 

You whined, pushing your thighs together for warmth and friction, which Kylo promptly used his strong hands to open again. “Not so fast, my little star. I wanna take my time with you tonight.” He smirked up at you. 

Half-kneeling on the floorboard of the car, Kylo peppered kisses up and down your inner thigh, causing you to shiver in his grasp. After what felt like eons of teasing, he finally placed a kiss just below your pubic bone before licking a stripe up your slit. 

You moaned, tangling your fingers into his long, dark locks as he began to feast on you. Your body felt full of electricity as if you were going to spark and short circuit at any moment. 

He was unrelenting with his tongue, and you felt yourself nearing your climax. “Kylo!” You whined desperately. 

“Hm? What is it, pretty girl?” He mumbled against you, not faltering once in his attack on your now very sensitive clit. 

“You’re g-gonna make me cum already, stop.” You breathed out. 

You could feel him smirk against your heat. “That's fine. Go ahead, cum for me.” He hummed.

Your head felt light and your body electric as you came, your vision blurring as you rode your high on his tongue. You only noticed he had stopped when you came to and saw him wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his dark hair messy and pupils blown with lust. 

“You taste so fucking good.” He breathed as he undid his belt, “I can't believe I waited a month to do that.” 

Laughing weakly, your head still fuzzy from your high, you admired him as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, exposing his pale chest littered with beauty marks. He looked so angelic the way the moon behind him cast his frame in an almost halo-like glow. You watched as he freed his erect cock from the tight confines of his jeans. 

Kylo kissed you as he lined himself up with your entrance, pausing momentarily to hold the side of your face in his hand and smile at you with adoration. “I wish you could see how pretty you look right now… How pretty you always look.”

You whined, still unable to form a coherent sentence and wrapping your arms around his broad frame. You felt him push his cock inside you slowly, and he watched as your eyes rolled back into your skull in pleasure. 

You moaned into the crook of his neck as he began to move, thrusting into you gently. His hand traveled up your shirt to cup your breast while he used the other to keep the back of your head from hitting the door handle. 

Kylo’s pace quickened, hitting that sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside you with every thrust. “You’re gonna m-make me cum again, you f-feel too good.” You breathed.

“I’m not gonna stop you, baby. Cum on my cock as many times as you need.” He smiled down at you, slightly out of breath as he neared his own climax. 

You came undone beneath him for the second time that night, loudly moaning his name and whatever expletives your brain thought of first, not having to worry about the possibility of waking your entire family as you both bathed in the moonlight that slipped through the now foggy windows of Kylo’s Charger. 

“Hm- Fuck I’m gonna cum.” Kylo moaned into your ear. 

“Please cum in m-me. I love you.” You whined. Your mind was so foggy from cumming twice that you had lost your inhibition completely and it took you a moment to realize what you just said to him.

You didn’t have much time, however, to worry about it for too long as Kylo let out a moan you had never heard from him before, a sound of need and desperation. “Fuck- Fuck! I love you too.”  He came to a halt deep inside you, before filling you with his cum. 

He breathed heavily on top of you, staring down at you with shock and adoration. “I love you too.” He repeated, completely out of breath. When he pulled out, you felt his cum drip down your thigh as he quickly retrieved his shirt from the darkness of the floorboard to clean you up. 

Kylo peppered kisses up and down your body before pulling you into his lap to hold you in his arms, and you watched as he lazily drew a heart in the condensation that had collected on the window. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder, thinking only of how comfortable you felt in his presence. 

You didn’t get home until 4 am and slept through most of the morning. You awoke to your father yelling at you from downstairs saying something about how there was somebody there to see you. Confused and still tired, you wiped the sleep out of your eyes as you made your way to the stairs. 

You stopped in your tracks at the top of the steps. Kylo standing in your foyer waiting for you was the last thing you expected. He had cleaned up nicely, trading his usual rotation of black band tees for a nice, dark button-up, and in his hands he held a bouquet of pink lilies. He smiled nervously up at you.

“Hi?” You beamed at him, laughing slightly.

“Hi,” Kylo smirked, looking down the hall towards the kitchen, where your dad had disappeared to, before continuing in a lower tone only you could hear. “I thought I’d try the front door this time.”

[msbigredmachine]

Hoochie Daddy (Jey Uso/OC)

How many of these shorts does he have? And how quickly can she take them off him? Jey Uso/OC gym one-shot.

Warnings: SMUT

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: I believe @southerngirl41​ is the reason for this title, lol. Let me know what you think!

All Jey gifs by @annoyedkayah2395

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

The gym in the basement of Jey Uso’s house was something straight out of the Creed movies. The floor, walls, and ceilings were solid concrete, the old school decor contrasting with the state of the art equipment within its walls. The speaker system on the far wall blasted the late great DMX as you laid waste to the punching bag in the corner. The straining of your muscles and the aching of your joints felt good. It was helping a lot with clearing your head, given the rather stressful events of the past couple of months. 

Though not directly involved yourself, you had experienced the strife within the Bloodline through your boyfriend. From Sami’s betrayal at the Royal Rumble, to Roman’s rage, Jey boycotting the shows for weeks, the uncertainty coming to a head at Wrestlemania with the twins losing the Tag Team titles to Sami and Kevin. Hit hard by the defeat, Jey reacted by keeping his distance from the group once again. He avoided everyone’s phone calls, and you happily played gatekeeper, screening his calls and keeping the doors locked from all intruders. If Jey didn’t want to communicate with anyone, then so be it. You loved his family like they were your own, but his peace of mind always came first. Always.

Which is why you let him sleep in while you came down here to beat the shit out of this damn bag. He’d gone to bed early last night and you wanted sex, but you couldn’t find it in your heart to wake him up and disturb his rest. This morning, you had to physically stop yourself from mounting him and riding him well into the afternoon. He looked so good lying there next to you, butt naked with his new chest tattoo just begging for your oral attention. That man made you horny at a moment's notice and it would have been infuriating if you weren’t already completely in love with the way he made you feel. 

So, you decided an early morning exercise would help you out with your frustrations. You learned that working out brought you to a state of erotic readiness. There was a power and excitement about exerting your entire body that amplified your arousal. It also helped that you were dating a man that shared your philosophy. Exercise energized you and Jey. The changes you’d experienced sexually in the past year were testament to this. As a couple you had transitioned from traditional sex to something so much more erotic and spiritual. Your relationship thrived as a result, and for the first time in years, you were happy.

"You’re stronger. But you gon’ hurt yourself if you don't relax your shoulders," a familiar gruff voice warned from the doorway of the gym.

You turned towards your boyfriend, locking eyes with him from across the room. You nodded at his barely clothed frame. “And you’re gonna have a yeast infection if you keep wearin’ them tight ass hoochie daddy shorts,” you shot back.

He burst into a chuckle as he glanced down at his yellow shorts, smiling that breathtaking smile of his. “You got jokes, huh?” he said, pushing off the door frame. As he approached you, his dark eyes raked over the light sprinkling of freckles over your beautiful face. He knew how many there were and could locate each one with his eyes closed. Your frizzy jet black hairstyle and crafted eyebrows made your eyes pop. And though they were hidden, he couldn’t help but drool over the outline of your nipple piercings through your thin, long sleeved Nike crop top.

You picked up your bottle of water. “How long have you been standing there watching me like a creep?” 

“Long enough. You know I can watch you all day, baby. You sexy as hell,” he winked, giving you a sweet kiss before swatting your backside. "How long you been in here?” 

"About an hour. Did some cardio first. I was horny and you were asleep.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, babe. I’ll make it up to you later.”

“I wanna fuck you now,” you pouted like a child, “Do you know how much willpower it took to not jump your bones this morning?” 

“I do. And I applaud your restraint. Usually, you can’t resist me,” he bragged.

“So damn arrogant.”

“Luh you too, boo,” he chuckled. Adjusting the Snapback around his head, he moved to the free weight area of the room. You noticed him fiddling with his phone, and rolled your eyes when he placed it in a strategic vantage point. Another IG story in the works; another day of women coming online to comment and thirst over his beautiful body. Just great. 

You stared as he pulled himself over the high bar and back down in flawless repetitions. The transformation of his body over the last year was goals, and you were inspired. However, with said transformation came the sudden need to wear only the teeniest tightest outfits to the gym, and now he had these little shorts in every color imaginable; pink, green, yellow, black, literally the Power Ranger collection of bikini shorts, with the hem just a few inches below his backside and showing off the extensive leg tattoos and the fullness of the groin that belonged to you. The material bunched up in that area as he slowly lowered himself back to the ground. Sweat glistened on his body, coursing down his defined contours, and you felt an animalistic urge to go right up to him and lick off every drop...

“Like what you see, baby?” His deep voice interrupted your dirty thoughts. Forcing your gaze back up, you saw his smirk, expressing his amusement at the heat in your eyes.

“You know I do. I’ve lost all my concentration thanks to them little ass shorts.”

“Concentrate on something else, then,” he insisted, empowered by how flustered he made you.

“I can’t. That ass is calling my name,” you whined, “You got your Daddy’s booty, I’ve told you this before.”

Jey groaned audibly. “Girl, leave my Daddy outta this!”

The side of your lips quirked, showing off the tiny dimple in your cheek that drove Jey crazy. “But it’s true. Jimmy got Kish’s face, you got his ass.”

The former tag champ burst out laughing. His girl was as crazy as she was beautiful. “You are unbelievable.”

“I know, Daddy.”

Not Daddy. Damn. His gaze followed your ample backside as you walked away, and involuntarily, his tongue darted out over his lips. Forcing himself to refocus, he settled down on the weight bench and picked up the weights he set out to train with.

The two of you worked out in comfortable silence, shooting furtive glances when the other wasn't looking. As he laid back on the bench, you ogled his dick print, his grunts of exertion causing you to bite your lip and squeeze your thighs together where you stood. Noting his attention was solely on the dumbbells, you sensed the opportunity passing you by. 

Fuck it. 

“Your video still on?” you asked, going over to him.

“No, why?”

You gave no answer, but proceeded to flop down directly onto his groin, smirking at his startled grunt. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the back of your head but you didn't care. Making yourself comfortable on his lap, you started slowly, grinding your ass on his cock, feeling him harden almost instantly through the thin barrier of your clothing.

“What are you doing?” Jey demanded, scrambling to sit upright. You looked over your shoulder at him with a devilish grin, noticing the struggle in his eyes. 

“I told you…I want some dick...I want what’s mine,” you let him know, opening your legs a little wider to grind on him. With a steady roll of your hips, you moaned and whimpered at the feeling of the wetness pooling in your loins. You let his groans wash over you as you rocked you back and forth on him, bumping your ass against his abs repeatedly. 

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed.

“Yeah, Daddy, you like that?" you taunted him, looking back at him as you rode him reverse cowgirl. "Come out here looking like that and expect me not to jump you, huh?"

Jey did not know where to put his hands. You had him all discombobulated from your little ambush. He settled for the curls of your hair, tugging your head to the side to allow his lips and tongue attack your sweaty neck. This motivated you to arch your back and roll your ass more harshly, his hand in your hair making you look back at it. You knew how good you were making him feel as he shifted multiple times to make your ass stroke his dick through his shorts. His hungry eyes watched you dry hump the shit out of him, his eyebrows pinched together in total arousal. 

“Aww fuck, keep goin’,” he moaned, grabbing your gyrating backside, purposely flexing his thigh muscles to give you more friction. His husky praise encouraged you to pick up the pace. Your hips rolled diligently, your hands braced on his knees for leverage, thoroughly enjoying the sounds tumbling from his mouth. It was sweaty, it was hot, and from the way your pussy rippled, it was about to get even hotter.

Then, from out of nowhere, you stopped and stood up.

“And that’s my workout done for the day,” you announced, stepping away from him.

Jey could not keep his jaw from dropping in shock. “The fuck? Babe!” he exclaimed with wide eyes.

You casually adjusted your clothes and ignored the prominent tent in his shorts. “Yep. Pelvic thrusts. Great for mobility,” you explained, fighting the urge to laugh. He looked so frustrated, it was hilarious.

The Samoan squared his shoulders and glared at you. “Damn dick tease. I’ma get you for that, ya hear me?” he threatened.

“I hope so.” For a long moment, you regarded him, talking to him without saying a word. You were checking on him, hoping he was okay. Jey’s expression softened in understanding, and he grabbed your hand and pressed his lips to your inner wrist. The feeling of his mouth gently pressed to your skin made your stomach clench with a sweet mix of affection and need.

“See you upstairs, baby. I’ll be right up, a’ight?” he prodded gently, his eyes shining with gratitude. 

You nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go, before I bend your fine ass over my lap.” He burst out laughing as your eyes lit up at the prospect. “Go!”

“Fine.” Blowing him a kiss, you left the room before he could change his mind and carry out his dastardly threat. Like he did a couple of weeks ago, when he locked you inside the laundry room and proceeded to fuck you for an hour. In eight different positions. All while getting the laundry done. Good Lord. Could you do that again, actually?

Buying a jetted jacuzzi tub big enough for two, was one of the best decisions you and Jey had ever made, expense be damned. It was one of your favorite things about the whole house, your place of Zen and tranquility after a long day. You ensured the water was adequately seasoned with Epsom salts and eucalyptus mints among others. Turning off the hot water, you stripped off, tucked your hair into a shower cap, and lowered yourself carefully into the tub. You leaned back and closed your eyes with a deep sigh, allowing the quiet to take over the ambience. You could feel your pores opening instantly, absorbing the mint and the steam, making you feel much more relaxed.

The sound of shoes being noisily kicked off forced your eyes open, landing on the handsome Samoan culprit grinning cheekily at you.

“That looks nice,” he commented.

“It feels amazing,” you concurred, crooking your finger at him. "C'mere, Daddy. Come join me."

Like he would ever turn down such an offer. He peeled off the t-shirt that stuck to his sweaty skin, followed by his so-called hoochie daddy shorts. He blushed at the way your eyes glossed over with desire as they raked over his body. He would never stop enjoying the way you looked at him. He descended into the tub on the opposite side, allowing his legs to entwine with yours underneath the water. Once he was seated, he exhaled loudly, leaning back and closing his eyes like you did.

“Your mind’s a mile away from here,” you spoke up after a few minutes of observing him in silence. “Come back to me, baby. Talk to me.”

Jey turned his head toward the window, staring dully at the bright sky outside. When he spoke, the pain in his voice hurt your soul. 

“Tell me how I let all of this shit happen,” he whispered. “I thought I was doing the right thing, man. Staying in the Bloodline to protect Jimmy. I thought I had everything under control. Until I got in that ring on Saturday night. It shoulda been just another match for me. But one look at Sami and all I saw was red. I let my emotions get the best of me. Now we’ve lost the fucking titles.” He paused, dragging a hand down his face. “The crazy part is, I believe Sami. I know he’s right about everything. Everything he warned me about is happenin’ now. Baby I just don’t know what to do.”

He looked over at you, and your heartstrings tugged at the helplessness you saw in his eyes, something you realized you’d been seeing too often lately. It was taking a toll on the usually confident, self-assured man you knew and loved. It was no secret that your boyfriend was under the Tribal Chief’s thumb, with no true will of his own. You had your own opinions on everything that was happening and you had told Jey that much, but it was ultimately up to him to do what he needed to do. 

Pushing away from your end of the tub, you waded in between his spread legs, resting your back against his chest. You always seemed to fit so perfectly against him. His arms instantly came around you, feeding off your warmth, your aura, your quiet strength that he so desperately needed.

“You’re not happy, Jey,” you assessed. “I wish you didn’t second-guess yourself so much, because your instincts are almost always right. You need to act on them again. I want you to do what’s best for you. Nobody else. Not Sami, not your brothers, not your cousin…not even me. Look out for Jey Uso this time. Just this once. And as always, whatever you decide, I got your back one hundred percent.”

Although you couldn’t see him, you could feel him absorbing your advice, letting your words swirl around in his head. You only hoped this meant that his misery would come to an end sooner rather than later. Exhaling heavily, he reclined again, stretching one arm across the top of the tub’s ceramic surface and holding onto you with the other.

“After this shit is over, I owe you a vacation,” he spoke. “Just you and me, far away from here.”

“Ooh, yes I’m down for that,” you nodded eagerly.

“Yeah. I definitely owe you a ring, too.”

“A ring?” Your brows furrowed in confusion at first, and then it hit you. Your head angled up to meet his eyes. “Mr. Ucey Jucey, are you proposing to me?”

Jey shrugged. “I told you I’ma marry you one day, lil’ mama. I ain’t changed my mind,” he said.

“You sure you’re ready for my craziness on a full-time basis?”

“That’s what I love about you the most, baby. I ain’t letting nobody else have you, that’s for damn sure.”

“Hmm. So you’re possessive,” you interrogated.

“I just know a good thing when I see it,” he stated, gazing deep into your eyes. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I ain’t letting it go, not even with my last breath.”

“And I’m not letting you go either,” you smiled, leaning into him, “You’re all mine, my big bad hoochie daddy.”

“Stop,” he warned, licking his lips.

“Stop what?”

“Calling me that.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Make me.”

Jey's amused expression instantly became serious, and he swallowed hard as his eyes dilated. It was always a thrill for you, challenging his control, anticipating what he would do to you afterwards. Just as that thought crossed your mind, you felt his right hand glide slowly down your body.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your words dissolving into a gasp when he squeezed your right breast.

“Finishing what you started.”

Your breath hitched when his hand continued its journey down south and slipped between your thighs. Instinctively you opened them, letting him play with your pussy using the tips of his long fingers. "Oh fuck," you gasped, your head tilting back when they breached your folds, going in deep. Licking your lips, you moaned and then grunted as he scissored his fingers back and forth inside you. “Oh god, Jey, yes…”

His lips swept the length of your neck, your little moans music to his ears. "You like that, mama? Like my fingers deep in you?"

You tried to respond, but the words evaporated as he dug deeper into your pussy. You spread your legs wider in the water, letting him work you at the pace he wanted. His mouth suckled your throat, and a blissful sigh sang from inside your heaving chest, your body awash with heat as his fingers probed you. 

“Daddy…”

“Yeah, say my name, baby.”

It was as though he’d cast a spell on you, the urgency with which you needed him inside you, on you, all over you. Holding the back of your head steady with his other hand, he leaned down and covered your lips with his. Your fingers raked through the wetness of his mullet fade, moving your lips greedily against his as he sped up the movements of his fingers. 

“Mmm, these lips were made for kissing me,” he murmured dreamily, and his soft words turned you to mush. Your mouth remained on his even as you rotated your body, unwilling to release him for even the few seconds it took to turn around. You climbed onto his lap and sat on him. His hands immediately sought the curve of your ass, squeezing in large handfuls. Your pierced, erect nipples pressed against his chest, delightfully rising and sinking like two round buoys in the sea. His groin felt hot against yours, just like it did in the gym. As he guided you down his length, you quickly grabbed the edge of the tub to keep from slipping. You both gasped from the familiar joy of your bodies joining, with every inch of Jey’s thick length sliding all the way inside you.

Jey didn't think he had ever felt you so tight, yet so slick and easy to penetrate. He watched you closely as you rocked your hips slowly, carefully, making sure you had all of him. You lifted your knees and wrapped your legs around his hips, your heels pressing against his lower back and prompting Jey to sit up and hug you tight. The tilt of his cock as you rolled your hips forward brought out another groan from you both. You rode him at a variety of paces, watching the pleasure wash over his face with each change. He lifted one hand to toy with your nipple, his palm squeezing your breast as you moaned in response. You paused for a second to adjust yourself on top of him, then switched up your movements, rising and falling, your pussy gripping his length tightly with every drop and dragging a hiss from his lips. You rode him good, rode him hard, your wanton gasps of pleasure echoing around the bathroom. Jey’s bottom lip disappeared between his teeth as he kneaded and massaged your ass, then gripping hard as he took control, working you on his dick. 

“Fuck, yes, yes!” you groaned into his neck as he steered you on his pole, his fingers digging into your hip bones as he grinded you onto him, increasing the stimulation on your clit. Then, he was lifting you up and down, bouncing you with a desperation that turned you on even more. Words failed you at this point, reduced to a panting, moaning mess. You were dizzy from pleasure, almost at the edge of release. The water splashing around you went ignored in the throes of passion, with him growling against your throat as you whimpered in his arms.

Jey’s grip on your waist was vice-like as he bounced you harder, chasing his own release. It felt like you were cracking in two from the scorching heat you and Jey had created. You didn’t try to tamp down your moans as you came. It was sweet and ferocious and ravaging all at once, ushering Jey himself past the point of control as he spurted generously inside you. His deep, raspy groan broke you all over again, and you let the ripples plunge you into another incredible orgasm, brought on by the sheer force of his. When it was over, you were both spent and trembling in the water, breathing raggedly, clinging to each other for dear life. Jey dropped a kiss to your forehead and then your nose, the gesture warm and tender.

“Damn, Daddy,” you moaned, earning a proud grin from him.

"Ay, you wanted dick, you got it. You're welcome," he said matter-of-factly, carefully lifting you off his cock and helping you out of the water.

“So arrogant.”

“Luh you too, boo.”

After draining the tub, the two of you made your way into the shower for a proper cleansing. You ended up in there for much longer than usual thanks to your make-out session beneath the cascading water while soaping each other up. There was something so sexy about him pinning you to the wall as you kissed, your wet bodies pressed together, the little sensual noises of pleasure you both made while he gripped and massaged your ass cheeks. As you left the shower, he maneuvered you towards the sink, facing the mirror. You hissed softly as the cold surface contrasted erotically with the heat of your man's body on your back, and you braced your hands on the bathroom countertop. He started kissing your neck, his hand shifting upwards so he could caress your breasts. You watched him in the mirror, your pussy moistening further at the sexy sight.

As he continued to nuzzle your throat, you flexed your spine, pressing your ass into his groin, and was rewarded by the sharp breath he sucked in. Relieving you of your shower cap, he swept your curly hair into his fist and pressed another kiss to your throat, meeting your eyes through the mirror.

“I love the way you look at me, like you want me,” he whispered.

“I do want you. I want you every day of my life. I’ll always want you, Jey,” you vowed. The look he gave you in response was so purely masculine, so primal, visibly turned on by your declaration.

"That’s my girl. Keep your eyes on me, baby,” he instructed, kissing your cheek, “Let me show you what I see every time we fuck."

Swallowing hard, you watched his head drop, and gasped as his fingers slipped unexpectedly between your legs, gathering your juices. You could hear the wet sound of his hand stroking his dick, and you longed to turn around and look, to watch him spread your essence all over himself. His husky groan as he lined his dick up with your entrance made your pussy flutter. Catching your eye in the mirror, he smirked at your impatient expression and smacked your backside for your troubles.

"Don’t worry, you gon’ get every inch, baby, all of it, it’s yours," he promised. With no further preamble, he bent you over, used your hips to pull you up onto your tiptoes, and entered you from behind. Your sharp gasp filled the bathroom as your walls stretched to accommodate his length and girth, your body almost doubling over in the process. His eyes remained on yours through the mirror as he slowly started to thrust in and out of you, reveling in the pleasure washing over your features. 

A string of moans left your lips as his cock speared you over and over, his tattooed arm around your waist to hold you steady. Your breasts jutted forward as your spine arched back, both of you transfixed by the reflection in the mirror, both of you extremely turned on, panting with the sheer eroticism of watching yourselves have sex.

"Baby, you feel so good," you groaned, bending over slightly as he thrust deeper into you. His long fingers threaded through your hair, and he used it to roughly pull you back up, almost to a standing position. Both of you were panting, moaning, the scent of sex heavy in the air, the sounds of your flesh pounding together ringing in your ears.

Dropping a wet kiss to your neck, he growled in your ear as he stared you down through the mirror. "Look at us, baby. Look how fucking good we look together."

You did look good, especially with him inside you. Together, your joined reflection looked good. You were an amazing pair, you and the man of your wildest dreams. You spread your legs further and rocked onto the balls of your feet, bringing him deeper into you, your breasts bouncing in time to his fierce thrusts, his hand still in your hair to hold you in place. He was insatiable for you, and you for him. 

"Shit, baby, your pussy is so good. You’re takin’ Daddy’s dick so well," he rasped.

His glassy eyes and barely contained groans told you he was close to coming. A naughty idea came to your mind, and you brought your hand down to touch yourself, moaning when your fingers slipped easily over the slick wetness you found there. Jey's eyes darkened in the mirror as he watched you, his hand in your hair tightening reflexively as you started stroking rapidly, right over where his dick made that sweet connection with your pussy.

Being the showman that he was, Jey loved himself a good show. And you found that you quite liked putting on a show for your man.

You could feel your body start to heat up, your swollen clit protruding against your fingers at the same time he deep-stroked your wetness. As you watched him in the mirror, you could see and feel the tension building inside him, matching yours, your naked bodies starting to tremble from the climbing pleasure. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna come,” you whined. Those four words seemed to set him off. His movements became wilder, rougher, mounting to a rising crescendo. He had you literally on the tips of your toes, at the very edge of euphoria, finally falling over when his teeth sank into your shoulder.

“Jey!”

You exploded. Releasing one more time all over his dick. Jey was right behind you, pumping hard inside you once, twice, and groaning into your shoulder as he came. His body shuddered against yours, your orgasms seemingly pulsing through both of you together. Gripping your hips tight, he moaned again, rolling his pelvis against your thick, juicy backside to drain every drop of his cum into your warm, intoxicating pussy. You purred softly with satisfaction and rested your head on his shoulder, letting him envelop you in those strong arms of his as your bodies calmed down.

Jey slowly pulled out of you, his eyes flickering to your stance; naked, bent over with your legs splayed, with his seed trickling down your inner thighs. So fucking hot. He turned you back to him, a small smile on his face when you tiptoed up to kiss his lips and play with his hair.

“So…what else are we doin’ today?” he asked you.

“We might need another shower,” you giggled, rubbing his back, “Also, I want you to make me breakfast wearing one of them tiny shorts,” you added. “You’re gonna wear them all day and nothing else.”

“That what you want, baby?”

“Yeah, and for me and my eyes only. No videos,” you quickly added the caveat.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he quipped, laughing when you smacked his arm.

“I said what I said. I think your beloved IG fangirls have seen enough for today,” you pouted.

He chuckled at your little riot act and pecked your pouty lips. “Fine. Anything for you, pretty girl.”

“Thanks, Hoochie Daddy. Love you.”

Jey could only sigh and shake his head with a big smile. He wouldn’t have your cheeky self any other way. “Love you, too, lil’ mama.”

THE END.

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

I’m on a roll with Jey rn. But I’ll 100% go back to my Tribal Chief soon. This one didn’t have too much drama, but I hope you liked it, still.

Please leave comments. I love comments!

Banner made by me. Credit to owners of the pics and gifs.

[gildedlead]

All of the Wayne kids’ favorite Leaguers: True and Real and Accurate

Dick: Wonder Woman! Bear with me. Please. I think Superman was his favorite BEFORE he met Clark. Once he learned how big of a dork he was, the magic was sort of lost, doubly so when Clark became his unofficial stepdad. Diana? She stayed cool. Not to mention that in his Robin days, she often humored whatever hare-brained impulses he’d get. Please picture Batman’s bewildered expression when he finds Dick dangling from the Watchtower light fixture he specifically designed to be impossible for him to reach. Diana just, -shrug- “He said please.” You threw him Diana. You threw that child. She’d probably still throw him if he asked nicely, hell, she’d probably do it even before he has to ask. It’s ‘Boy Wonder’, not ‘Boy Bat’.

Jason: Black Canary. ‘Wonder Woman is Jason’s fav’ believers PLEASE hear me out. I think that Diana is Jason’s favorite in a ‘celebrity crush’ way, but Dinah is Jason’s favorite in a ‘cool aunt’ way. He met her unofficially at the Watchtower, but actually started hanging out with her thanks to Roy. They both like motorcycles and kicking ass, plus Young Justice having Canary as a therapist melds well with my vision of her helping Jason heal. And I think she’s used to yelling at Bruce on Oliver’s behalf, so it’s no big to do it on Jason’s too.

Tim: The Flash! If Dinah is the cool aunt, Barry is the cool uncle. Guy that shows up at the function with all the best snacks. He might eat half of them himself but damn if he didn’t bring them. In all seriousness, Tim saw pretty great merit in knowing a forensics guy that he can basically talk to anytime he’s stumped with a case without having to go through the “sorry to wake you” song and dance. Barry occasionally gets unhinged texts that are in the vein of “hey can you go about ten minutes back in time and tell past me about _____”. They’re usually pretty low stakes but sometimes there’s just a “got stabbed, do-over?” jumpscare sprinkled in. Bruce will never ever get shit from Barry about kid troubles. That man is a saint in Flash’s eyes.

Cass: Captain Marvel. She didn’t like him at all during their first meeting. For a person that’s good at reading body language, I imagine that seeing genuinely childish behavior on a grown man would be giving some crazy mixed signals. Once she learns that his powers are magic in origin rather than being alien or meta, her mind opens up a little more to the possibility that his exterior appearance might not be indicative of his actual identity. Cass guesses his age by their next proper meeting and makes it her business to keep an eye on him, always asking Bruce about him after he returns from League missions. Your honor, that 7’5” brick wall Champion of Magic is actually just Cass’ little buddy. She’s gonna get him some ice cream or something.

Steph: Green Lantern. Hal and Barry are like uncles, except if Barry is the cool one, Hal is the cringe one. Lucky for Hal, being a boyfailure is a good way to amuse Steph. Those two are gonna spend hours arguing with Bruce just for the hell of it, backing each other up on completely incorrect claims (Steph does it because it’s funny, Hal does it because he believes her). He does get bonus points for bringing her cool space snacks whenever he comes back from trips off-world. One of her favorite foods is a sort of hi-chew/gum thing from some other planet in Sector 2418 that doesn’t dissolve or lose its flavor, even after chewing it for days on end.

Damian: Aquaman. He’s a king. Like, an actual king. And he can communicate with fish. Arthur heard about Damian’s temper from the rest of the Leaguers and straight up does not believe it because every time he’s spoken to Damian, it’s been “hello your majesty can you introduce me to an octopus I have a few questions for it”. This one’s short. But I feel it speaks for itself.

Duke: Superman. Clark was NOT told about Signal taking up the day shift in Gotham until he was flying in to compare notes (read: flirt), with Bruce and met Duke when they both went to intercept a carjacking. Clark tries to be responsible like “I feel obligated to let you know that Batman doesn’t take kindly to metas in his city”, only for Duke to point at the big ol bat on his chest. After that, Duke usually intercepts Big Blue’s flight path anytime he comes into Gotham and the two just kind of hang out and shoot the shit while he does his patrol. Duke is also a little bit stoked to be regularly hanging out with The Superman, but even after the awe wears off, he can’t help but still think of Clark as just a cool, friendly guy. He gets someone to share the airspace with, Clark gets a bat he can stay in the sun with, it’s a win/win all around. Congrats Clark, you got one.

[chososlittlecrybaby]

PLUG!CONNIE HEADCANONS

BLACK READER

WARNING ⚠️: Smoking, dirty talking, ass slapping.

Plug!Connie who spoils and drowns you in his dirty money. You want a new tote bag? You got it. You want a new phone? You got it. Everything and anything you want, its yours.

Plug!Connie who enjoys watching you shop for stuff while he chaperones you. He watches exactly what you pick out watching you not even bothering to look at the price because he knows that you know that he has the money for it.

Plug!Connie who sits in the waiting area of the salon and watches you get you hair done so he’s there to pay for it.

Plug!Connie who you smoke with, not charging you because you’re his sweet princess. You sit in the car or in the living room talking about life while you both roll blunts up together to smoke them away.

Plug!Connie who speaks Spanish and communicates in Spanish to keep you fluent in it because he finds it attractive.

Plug!Connie who sees you in shorts with your ass hanging out and immediately slaps your ass not giving it a second thought.

Plug!Connie who whispers the most dirtiest things known to man kind like, “You keep up that attitude I might just fuck you in front of everyone in this party.” or “Ima eat yo pussy so fucking much, i want you squirting in my mouth when im done.”

Plug!Connie who likes to roll blunts on your ass while beatin yo shit in from the back. He smokes it when hes done rolling it up btw.

Plug!Connie who does clean ghosts and then blows the smoke in your mouth, kissing you after.

Plug!Connie who lets you jerk his dick after he paid for your new nails.

Plug!Connie who fucks you in missionary making sure you can see your name tattooed on his chest.

Plug!Connie who lets you twerk on him at parties while he grabs the waistband of your pants from the back to control that shit, because he CAN handle all that.

Plug!Connie who’s a brat tamer and doesn’t go for no disrespectful shit.

[thestrangestthlng]

HOLY DOUBLE FUCKING DOWN BATMAN.

"Remember, this is not me backing down or being defensive." "Remember, this is not me apologizing?"

Babes, who are you talking to? Your little fucking friends who are just as problematic as you?

"Just because you were offended doesn't mean you were right."

Be so fucking for real right now. That is not for you to decide. You don't get to determine what is offensive to someone and say they're wrong. You do not get to tell people from communities that what they were offended by wasn't offensive. You do not get to determine whether or not someone else can be offended by your actions.

"I am not the creator of gay stereotypes."

No, you are not, but that doesn't not mean that you have to continue to give them life.

"they created it themselves." Re: stereotypes about queer hookup culture.

You do realize that straight people have a hook up culture, right? We'll get to that. Do you want to know why there are so many negative stereotypes about marginalized communities? I'll tell you. It's because of white supremacy culture and the patriarchy. White people in power made sure the seeds of these negative connotations were spread far and wide. Media creates those biases and creates the stereotype. Would you say the same thing about Black women and the Mammy and Sapphire stereotype? These are stereotypes that are mocked and negatively reinforced in culture for entertainment and oppression.

"Gay men, I'm sorry... [...] my bad, I thought that because gay men can joke about it, I can too."

It's not that you can't joke about it. The fact was it wasn't fucking funny and I will explain to you exactly why. When you are joking abut a marginalized community, or a demographic that you have a position of privilege over (which you do, as a bisexual woman) you have to PUNCH UP for the joke to be funny. You punched down, which made it an attack and not a joke.

"The hook up culture exists in every sexual orientation [...] so what are you even mad for."

It absolutely does exist with every sexual orientation, WHICH IS WHY YOU COULD HAVE LEFT OUT THAT WHOLE FUCKING PARAGRAPH WHERE YOU TALKED ABOUT GAY MEN ONLY BEING ABOUT THAT THING. (And I'm sure that you're not even old enough to get that reference.)

"The word "target" was part of the fun little dialogue I imagined in my head when I was explaining Tommy pov. It wasn't meant to be taken in a fun docu-series kinda way."

Just because it's not how you intended doesn't mean that isn't how it was received. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. You mocking this just really goes to show how ignorant you are.

"I'm bisexual."

Okay, and? The same way a gay man or a lesbian can be biphobic or make biphobic statements or actions, bisexual people can have queerphobic statements or actions. I explained this to you. Internalized phobias are a think too.

"Queer people are not untouchable."

No, they aren't. You can dislike queer characters, I know I dislike PLENTY. You can just be honest with yourself and be like "I don't like him because he's in the way of my ship." You don't have to prove anything you can just say you don't like him. You don't need to justify this, you can just be honest about it.

The problem is that the rhetoric that you are spewing is homophobic in nature. And when gay men and other queer people are telling you that it's offensive, it's offensive. You were explained to in detail why what you said was offensive, reductive, and dangerous. You just don't care. Your little friends are just in your ear backing you up.

Tommy is absolutely just a character. He will never see any of this shit, but people like him, will.

If after this, you still don't understand how you, a bisexual, can be homophobic or make homophonic actions, I don't know what to tell you.

[shitswiftiessay]

“multiple posts in support of the lgbtq community”

her LGBTQ “activism” pretty much started and ended with the lover era. she released the musical equivalent of “it’s ok to be gay,” she waited until she was in a blue state on the eras tour to even barely address the anti trans legislation that was being passed in OTHER states (states she had just performed in where her speech would’ve made much more of an impact). and telling people to go vote without specifying who you’re voting for or bringing attention to the important issues is not activism. it’s merely a voting reminder. which is fine, but, y’know, it doesn’t make you an lgbt advocate. which she promised to be as she accepted an award for it.

and despite the fact that she’s reportedly “spending a lot more time” in fuckass missouri to be with travis, she’s yet to say anything about the anti lgbt legislation being passed in that state.

she also went off tumblr because people asked her to talk about BLM and swifties act like it was the cruelest thing in the world to expect of her 🙄 but she made a whole thing in her documentary about wanting to be on the “right side of history.”

and taylor did the black square too so if you’re gonna attack joe for that 💀

and she made some promises on twitter to be “loudly and ferociously anti-racist.” then she went on to date racist pos matty healy… and use ice spice as a shield. AND she also made sure that her publicist let everyone know that the “controversy” surrounding matty’s racism had NOTHING to do with her decision to split from him.

so… yeah.

these same miserable fucking swifties used to praise joe alwyn for speaking out against men abusing their power over women in hollywood but now their whole blogs are basically dedicated hate blogs to him. because he committed the crime of not marrying taylor so now they’ve decided he’s the worst man on the planet. 🙄

meanwhile taylor’s working with rapist directors, hanging out with SA apologists and high-fiving an abuser at football games. her feminism and “advocacy” is limited ONLY to herself and it’s painfully obvious she does not give a shit about anything that doesn’t directly affect her.

also, joe’s name wouldn’t have been added to that ceasefire letter if he didn’t WANT it added. it’s a risk to anyone in the entertainment industry to openly support palestine and no one’s name is going to be “just added” without their consent. signing that ceasefire letter may be bare minimum shit, but it’s still more than anything Miss Americana has said or done regarding this issue, which is absolutely nothing, and you have to ask yourself WHY.

also if you’re upset about people saying that taylor was encouraged to be more political because of joe… idk what to tell you that’s literally a canon event that came straight from taylor’s own mouth.

and it’s not that i think she’d be a trump supporter without joe but… it’s pretty obvious that since they’ve broken up (and even in the year leading up to the breakup) she’s not dared to do anything remotely resembling activism or being “controversial.” if anything she’s just too fucking narcissistic and self-absorbed to care about anything going on in the world, just like her bestie selena.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hey y'all welcome back to the hit show

'You MFers Be Racist!'

I'm your host, Roman and on today's show we're gonna be talking about how Miguel, a Latino man looks... Latino.

*audience gasps*

Now audience, what if I told you there's literally people mad they made Miguel darker in ATSV 😭😭

They're saying it's racist because 'if a black character got turned white-'

Like they ain't even change his ethnicity. Just the fact that he's darker makes them angry.

Same hair color same eye color but he's like four shades darker

Oh my god the creators are so evil for making a *checks notes* brownskin Latino man

Someone said they prefer Miguel's ATSV design because of the brownskin Latino rep

- and they got called an Anti-White Racist (me and Hobie cackling in the next room) and then anon tried to explain how ethnicities and races in Mexico work

Y'all do not understand how pervasive racism is in the Spider-man community.

It goes to show how so many 'allies' work and cheer for black solidarity UNTIL black or brown people do something they can't relate to.

Oh, Hobie might wanna date black girls to bond over the shares experiences of racism and anti-blackness? NO THAT'S RACIST how dare he hold parts of his blackness so dear that he wants to be able to share it to his partner with complete understanding? Race shouldn't matter at all to him!! And if it does he's a racist and so are you!!!!!!! You holding your culture dear is not allowed.

For the racists in the fandom, It's racist and upsetting to imply that POC might have a stronger connection to a black character than them.

Oh, brown Latinos are happy that Miguel is brown skin rep now? NO THAT'S RACIST how dare you change the characters skin color by four shades darker even if he's still the same ethnicity and nationality.

How dare you give rep to a largest part of the demographic he's always been apart of

Y'all are the mfers that gave Zendaya - a mixed race self-described Black woman - a hard time.

Yeah mfer I ain't forget that shit!!!!!

Back when casting Zendaya as MJ was seen as racist and 'race switching' and 'what if they made Miles white that wouldn't be okay so this shouldn't be okay either'

even though there's already a white Spider-man but no black canon spiderman love interest despite the character being around for over half a fucking century.

Because even though Zendaya shares Caucasian ancestory like Mary-Jane has, Zendaya is very clearly a person of color, and since she doesn't look white, that's not enough.

(And don't even get me STARTED on the shit she got for actually dating Tom. Or people who say they want his Black Cat to be white so he can 'get back to' yt women)

Sure, Miguel is mixed - sharing white ancestory with his father. But he's clearly a person of color now, and since he doesn't look white anymore, that's not enough for y'all.

The racism is wild. It's wild and clear.

And that's all from me folks! See you next time on 'Y'all MFers be Racist!!'

Maybe next time we can talk about how Jessica Drew wasn't that much in the wrong. And how she was way less in the wrong than Peter B. And how y'all put responsibility on Black women while also giving a pass to white male incompetency in the same breath.

Tune in next time because trust me these racists will strike again and so will I 😭😭🧐🧐

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Wait holy shit I just noticed something and it's a game-changer

When we see Ed at the end of s2e3, he's very obviously banged-up. He looks okay-ish in the gravy basket but in real life he looks like warmed-over shit; there's a lot of blood on the side of his face and in his beard from his split lip.

But when we next see him in e4, he's obviously still not feeling great but his face is all cleaned up and he's no longer wearing the big Blackbeard duster or Stede's black cravat wrapped tight around his throat.

After Ed woke up, we know a bit of what happened - the man can't speak and his brain is maybe couscous, so he headbutts Stede (part of that may have just been trying to sit up too fast, and I'm sure an additional part of it is he literally had no other way to communicate "dude what the FUCK" to Stede).

But, before reality started setting in and Stede had to talk to the crew, does this mean they maybe got even a few tender moments alone? Did Stede clean his face? Help him get out of that big coat and feeling even marginally more comfortable? I do not believe for even a second that Stede would willingly handcuff his princess to the rail of the ship (unless Ed asked him to, of course) so I'm sure they got interrupted at some point.

I do wish we lived in a world where Stede had been able to, like, get babygirl here to to the ER to treat his many many concussions and maybe give him like an ice pack or somethin', but the thought of them getting at least a few sweet minutes where Stede was able to help him get cleaned up is warming my heart.

[harukamitsuki]

Ur soooo right abt Lance I think he just became the fandom’s darling because people saw inklings of insecurity and home sickness and zeroed in. He’s whump bait, but like without the more complicated issues tied into Shiro, Allura, and Keith’s problems. Prime projection material.

He has potential and I appreciate fandom’s ability to see that in him, but you’re so right that people have completely forgotten who he is in canon. He *could* have been better, but he wasn’t and it’s frustrating that people have lost sight of that because I think it would genuinely produce more interesting takes on his character and role in the story. As someone who genuinely wants him to be a better character it makes me want to eat dry wall.

Lance, first and foremost, is the everyday man. That's why he's so popular. He is far from a piloting prodigy, flirts with every pretty girl, funny and exaggerative, has a generic weapon like a rifle, is the first paladin to find his Lion, and has the most basic interal conflict there can be. Which is why everyone loves him.

Shiro? Shiro is confirmed gay, was hailed as the most promising pilot pre-canon, was officially the youngest man sent into space, but also had an illness for canon forgot about it, had major PTSD that left him unable to move in most cases, considered himself broken if his hallucinations said anything, and literally died. He's good leader matieral, able to handle a group of four wildly differing teenagers and only really let his emotions plan his course of action once (when Allura was kidnapped). This man is insanely skilled but also insanely traumatised.

Keith? Keith beat all of the records Shiro set and was known as a genius in the field, only held back by his defense mechanisms and rushing on ahead. He was abandoned by his mother when he was a toddle, then his father died implicitly before his eyes, he was then an orphan where he was probably passed around from family to family, ot feeding into his adandonment issues. He gained a friend in Shiro, the first person to reach out to him, and then lost him a few years later. He finally gets Shiro back, only for more shit to happen. He finds out his mom was Galra, and becomes sorry that he even existed because of this. Nobody on Voltron actually felt like his friend with Pidge constantly calling him a loner right after he lost Shiro, Hunk poking fun at his Galra genes, and Lance playing up this one-sidedly rivalry and taking everything he does as an attack on his person. He loses Shiro again and has to constantly give him up for the sake of Voltron and the universe. The only time he can focus on himself is when Shiro is back and he distants himself for the team's sake and they just let him go. He's so affected by grief before the story starts and it doesn't give him a break. Even so, he's so kind and genuine about everything. He becomes the Black Paladin, not because he had no choice. Maybe at first, but he grows into that role and becomes a great leader.

Pidge? Pidge is a prodigy and a genius, able to hack firm and software from alien planets. She can fly a jet just from reading instruction manuels and have little to no trouble. At the same time, lost her brother and father all at once. When she finally got some clue as to what happened to them, she was kicked out and banned from the Garrison. She disguised as a boy and snuck in, abandoning her dream of becoming a fighter pilot because navigation would teach her more about scanning space for extraterrestrial communication and lifeforms. When she finally has the chance to find her family, she has to constantly give them and clues she may find up because Volton and the universe come first.

Hunk? Hunk is just as much of a genius as Pidge, even if the writers forget, with him able to spot foul play on an alien ship easily. He's so kind and loving yet fierce with his protection and so strong when defending his friends. He keeps spirits high with his warming attitude, even if he's the most home sick of them all. He acts the most realistically to become a child soldier. Still, even when he's terrified, he pushes on so that people like Shay can find out what freedom is. Feel it for themselves. When they go back to Earth, Hunk is the only one who has to fight to get his parents back and earn his happy ending. He suffers throughout the series, but he's always looking at the greener side.

Allura and Coran? They lost their families and thejr entire species before canon ever began. They lost so much and have nothing but revenge fueling them. They have to deal with the fact that they slept through the massacre of the Altean species and woke up far too late. They have to deal with inexperienced humans who have no real attachment to the war. They have to deal with the fact that they are the last of the Alteans. And when it's finally revealed that there are more survivors, they have to deal with the fact that they're being farmed by Lotor/Honerva for their quintessence. Allura was so depressed in season eight after falling for Lotor then being used so thoroughly by him. Coran never got to say goodbye to Allura before she died. Despite this, they still fight with all they have, making sure nobody has to face the loss they've felt.

Lance? Um. He's insecure about his place in the team? I guess Veronica nearly died but she didn't so whatever... He did spend a lot of his time in the Garrison being compared to Keith... But he also spent time he could've used to better his skills to sneak out and flirt with girls or hit the arcade. Um... I guess...

Um. Yeah.

See, I always wonder how people see such angst potential in Lance, or even see him as an angsty character in general. They act as though he's suffered the most in canon when, in reality, he hasn't. He has the most generic troubles and, I guess, it's more relatable that way? People don't have to struggle to relate to PTSD or abandonment issues or identity issues or child soldiers or losing your entire species.

Insecurity? That's easy because everyone feels insecure.

Which is why Lance is so popular.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying this isn't valid. It sucks to feel insecure and doubt your every move. The only difference is how common Lance's issues are compared to everyone else. Because Lance is generic as hell, people love to vent through him.

Lance has a stable friendship group, is constantly given everything he wants, and even manages to destroy what has been the canon ship over decades (Kallura). He invented a rivalry with Keith, who didn't even know who he was when they met. Because of that, people either ship them for the 'rivals to lovers' trope or hate Keith and act as though Keith was bullying him. Shiro doesn't take Lance's side often because Lance's ideas are dangerous or reckless. He still tries to let him down gently, making logical arguments (see: Shiro explaining that Red is fire-resistant so Keith has to go to the BOM HQ). Oh, but he's not on Lance's side so the fandom decides he's an awful leader. As if they know what a good leader is. They think a good leader is someone who gets distracted by a pretty girl and blames everyone but himself.

The only thing not given to Lance on a silver platter is Black. Thank God. But because he wasn't given Black when he was given everything else, fandom decides that DreamWorks hates Lance and decides to argue that Lance was always destined to be the Black Paladin. Ignoring how Black's colour scheme was LITERALLY ON KEITH'S CLOTHES.

So. Yeah. He definitely has potential before DreamWorks just started rewarding him for breathing. The insecurity he has could have been a good way to develop his character. He could have become someone outside of Keith or Shiro's shadow. He didn't need a love interest to prosper, as proven by the fact that he never prospered in canon.

His potential was there, just ignored because the writers were allergic to complex characters, even to the smallest degree.

(They should have gotten the writers for Race to the Edge to do Voltron ugh)

[g0g0at]

Malevolent part 48 spoilers live blog

Oooooh I’ve heard good things about this episode

Starting off strong with Arthur coughing his lungs up

BLOOD?! TUBERCULOSIS

Spooky hallwayyyyy

John is gonna take the lead this episode it seems

Ooooh more people?

Oh someone is speaking!

Kinda thought they would all have sewn lips

Who’s that?

This is more characters in one space at a time

Moreeeeeeee voicessss

Bro just straight up dying and these guys don’t bat an eye

Oooh ok so they’re all waiting

“Speaking of sick, who are you?”

Gerard? A vin- a what?

A WEEK??

So much for being late

Oooh I’m liking these voices

He sounds like s1 Arthur

Friendly Friar

I am gonna lose track of these characters so quick

Forgotten all their names already

Oh my god Arthur

There’s so much talking this is really different (not in a bad way)

Get a snack Arthur PLEASE

The witch?

Oh wait that guy is French

Spooky lady at the bottom of the stairs…

Slay the princess reference omg

I love this music

Who is this

This is making me think of the green knight

I actually do kinda need this layout refresher it’s hard to keep track

Hmmmm many characters to ask

Lengwood does not like him BHAHAHAH

EWWW

John is in support mode hehe

I do kinda like this character he’s interesting

Are they gonna get picked off one by one

“It’s only death” Arthur like “yes indeed, I died just the other day!”

I’m very curious about this Everard now

Hmmm well John and Arthur are seeking answers

Ah he knows… maybe

Ooh that’s ominous

Oooh someone is coming……….

Everard?

Modern… interesting

Oooh this is so ominous I’m loving this

“No issue navigating” interesting…

Something about the way he says consonants scratches my brain

Seems Arthur fits the Warren role well

Mmm an architect

“Short while” BEHHAHAHS that feels like a roast ngl

So we have a friar, warren, architect, doctor (?), anstronomer

These guys are gonna be a big help me thinks…

“Visions the others cannot comprehend” want a bet

Ooooh what will it be

Black stone teehee

“I am not affiliated with the order?” Order of the fallen star?

Yep

Arthur accidentally getting himself drawn into a cult smh

Tomorrow night… well that’ll be next episode I assume

Arthur is probably gonna try take it… maybe

Uh they can’t give him the ring from the order hmmm

Loving that they’re working with non verbal communication as apposed to IGNORING EACHOTHER

Uh oh…

Making note of the scars

Ngl Arthur that’s not the BEST excuse

Ah they’re stuck with eachother for a bit

Hope those walls are soundproof…

John was doing a description!

Mmm yeah I wonder what getting evolved with great ones would do to your faith…

Calling him a heathen HAHA

Arthur is back in the game YEAAAAH

Well maybe…

One of these guys is gonna get murdered FOR SURE

They’re going to pick eachother off

John needs to NOT sleep tonight he’s gonna need to play watch dog

Arthur admitting he’s not ok? Wow who’da thought. Character development!

Who’s moving around

“Sit” “it helps me think” I liked that little exchange idk

Why are you talking about football

He’s trying to get them to fight for it?

Mmmmm so it’s a test?

CALLLLLLLED IT

Murder mystery!!!

Who got murdered?

You think John suspects the power won’t work anymore?

It didn’t with the witch…

Or maybe he’s just nervous to go through it

Man they’re all pointing fingers smh

Ooooh it’s a who done it heheheh

RIP Lengwood

Friar might have done it but he could be a red herring

Well that’s a bloody murder you would get a little blood on you for that

These guys would not solve shit without Arthur

Common interest…

Ah ok order stuff

Devious devious

Ah the ring!!

Arthur can use their’s if necessary

Well shouldn’t you look at Lengwood’s corpse?

Yes yes

OH FUCK

You two need to get rid of that ring

ARTHUR YOU’RE MAKING YOURSELF LOOK SUSPICIOUS

AURGHHHHHH

Arthur has an alibi but you lot can’t hear him!

Friar answered way too quick

“Don’t you mean again” BHAHAHHAHA

John is reluctant to touch the body… does the power not work anymore..?

Ditch the ring!!! Ditch it!! You don’t need it!! Or hide it in your shoe or some shit

SHOE PUT IT IN YOUR SHOE

WHY DID HE JUST DUMP IT

Barnabus jumpscare

Why you grabbing him like that stop that

This guys is a bit creepy

These guys have a guilty before innocent thing

“He studies your face with a cleverness. It’s hidden slightly, behind the veneer of alcohol” nice line I like that

They’re gonna buddy up?

There’s gonna be a brawl or something

Arthur you’re toeing a dangerous line

Everard WANTS you guys to be picked off, he’s not a good alibi

“I’m excited for you to see” the dead body????

Cool chapel? Sounds like it could be?

Oh Lengword woods

“His body is sprawled upon the steps, face to the side in grotesque tableau of agony. His face wears a horrible scream.” Great imagery goddamn

No ring… damn

You guys are bad at investigating stuff

Yeah they’re gonna wanna check your bag probably

How would they explain away Yorick?? “Hey sorry yeah that’s just my severed head, he’s chill dw”

Why is Elia on body disposal duty

Bro is poking at Baranabus BHAHAHAH get FUCKED

Loving the non-verbal communication between these two

What IS Arthur doing

HE’S GONNA PLANT IT. Or something similar

Oh Arthur you sneaky SNEAKY bastard

Clever clever

Everard just dipped BAHHAHHA

I know this is just how Arthur is in his element but also he fits the Warren role

So much for touching the body…

Why do people keep asking him if he’s a good person

Kayne? Horig? Or maybe the KiY??

Omg wait maybe is it Horig…

He was taken to the dreamlands?? Maybe…

OH WHAT THE FUCK

Why’d he do that?

Horrifying imagery, love it

BAHAHA HE’S JUST FLOATING

Well you missed your opportunity

“All you worship the way I do” ehhh Arthur not so much

Dang Everard is a horrid host

So someone else might die overnight

Your alibi really ditched you BAHHAHA

So Barnabus did do it? Maybe

Oooooh black stone next episode!!