#i sound like a gossip blog
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schumaquinho · 6 months ago
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wait wdymmm dec cheats😟😟
well, apparently he does.
i read about it first on twitter after a girl commented a tweet about how he defended his gf against the criticism she had been receiving recently. she said it was funny that people were praising him for being “the only decent footballer” for not having an insta model girlfriend and keeping her since they were young and being faithful when he was caught out with other girls around the time when she was pregnant.
don’t quote me on the last part because i’m not sure she was pregnant at the time, but i did find pics of him and other girls while he was in vegas with other footballer. in them he’s not doing anything per se, but you can’t deny it looks incriminating lol
like, don’t tell me those pics don’t look compromising on his part. at least if i found my boyfriend this close to another girl dressed like that and in fucking vegas of all places i’d be fuming, pulling out my hair from my scalp and rolling on the floor with anger (and i’d certainly break up with him, too. i’m too insecure to keep a relationship going after that).
here are the pics i mentioned, found on the sun (i know they’re not the best source but anyway)
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so yeah. if he cheated or not can be… debatable. but certainly it does not look favorable to him. but hey, it’s not my relationship, idk them, and we can’t be 100% sure he did anything. like, he could be just talking to them, although i highly doubt it. aaaaand jack grealish was with him in vegas, too, and we know jack shits on his gf like crazy too. i wouldn’t doubt his cheating energy got around to decs.
footballers will always be footballers, i guess.
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ddejavvu · 1 year ago
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hmm. why are people sending you hate when perfectly good gossip blogs exist ;)
HAHA self-promo 🫶
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sanstropfremir · 2 years ago
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the last time i could think of a company so obviously trying to smear an artists name its when lm ent tried to tie kang daniel to burning sun. or or orrr when that group of minors (busters i think) finally left their company and the company started making shady face book posts replying to fans comments that was,,, unprofessional. maybe when cube dropped hyuna and dawn too but they didnt try to character assassinate them??
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ok time for a psa since there's been a lot of new ppl since i did the last one, but don't send me asks about gossip/drama bc i don't care and i have nothing to say about it
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gravemere · 1 month ago
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my headphones died when i left the house this morning which has meant i’ve been on two train journeys today, through the english countryside, in the rain, without music to wistfully stare out the window to,,, gods strongest soldiers etc etc etc
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suguwu · 1 month ago
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WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE
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The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.
When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.
You forget, but Gojo—
Gojo never does.
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MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.
masterlist
pairing: gn!reader x gojo
wc: 2.6k
notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!
content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.
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The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.
You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.
The servants, however, are louder.
One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 
“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 
Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 
“It’s true, though!”
“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 
She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 
You return to your coloring book.
The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.
Not yet. 
There’s a boy in the courtyard.
He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 
You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 
“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.
You stay quiet.
“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”
He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.
It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.
Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 
“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 
He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”
You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 
He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”
“Are you?”
“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”
“Oh.”
He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”
“Nope.”
He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 
You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—
“You’re just a boy,” you say. 
He scowls. “Am not.”
“Are too.” 
“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”
You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.
When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.
The Gojo boy is gone.
Your mother is hovering. 
She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 
“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”
You nod. 
There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.
The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.
“Oh, it’s you.”
You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 
You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 
Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”
The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 
He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”
“Hey!” 
“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”
You throw yourself at him.
His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 
By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.
“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”
The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”
“No.” 
Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 
“I’ll train with them,” he says.
“Gojo-sama—”
“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 
The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 
Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  
He’s out the shoji before you can respond.
Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 
“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”
“Am not!”
“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”
“You’re annoying.”
He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  
“You’re the one who came over.”
He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”
“How come?”
“How come what?”
“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”
He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”
“I just do,” he says, voice flat.
You don’t ask again.
“Why are we here?”
Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”
Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 
“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”
He shrugs. “They insisted.”
“Who?”
He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 
You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.
“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”
He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”
“They didn’t specify.”
“Ugh.”
“Gojo-sama—”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 
You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 
“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”
The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”
He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”
“They cannot.”
“I said they’re coming.” 
“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 
Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.
“Fine.” 
You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.
The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.
You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.
You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 
You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.
A voice wakes you.
“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”
“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”
You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.
“It’s not enough.” 
“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 
The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”
“No, I don’t.” 
“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”
Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:
“I don’t think he’s human at all.”
Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 
Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 
“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 
He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
“But my shoes—”
He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 
“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 
He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.
He’s never looked more human to you.
The next time you see him, you’re prepared.
You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Give me your arm.” 
“Why?”
“You’ll see.” 
He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.
You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 
“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”
Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 
You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 
You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 
Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 
The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 
Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 
You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 
Gojo, though—
Gojo never does.
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russellsppttemplates · 6 months ago
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It is what it is (Lando Norris)
It takes Lando a while to notice how you always assume he has something else to do whenever you need his help
Note: english is not my first language. It's slightly angsty but has a good ending! ✨️ is this good, is this bad? I'm not too sure
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: alludes to the lack of quality time between a couple
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Look at you, beautiful girl", Lando twirled you as he stepped inside your bedroom, noticing you were getting ready, "are you going somewhere?".
"Yes, I have an appointment at my optometrist", you smiled, "Anna should be here soon to take me".
"Is it a joint appointment?", Lando squinted.
"No, you muppet", you giggled, "my optometrist needs some exams on my eyes, so I have to today because that's when the ophthalmologist is there and they recommended that I had someone take me there because they want to dilate my pupils and, depending on how it goes, my sight might be a little affected for a couple of hours", you offered, making sure you had everything you needed to take.
"You could've told me and I would've taken you", Lando added, accepting the kiss you placed on his lips.
"I thought you had a meeting this afternoon", you reasoned.
"I do, but I could have moved that around a little and fit everything into the schedule", he reasoned back.
"It's okay, don't worry about that", you mused, "That's Anna - bye, handsome!", you kissed his lips one last time before making your way out and downstairs to meet your friend.
The ride to the office wasn't long, you and Anna taking the time to catch up and learn about the new gossips she had to update on you.
"And how's Lando? I haven't seen him in a while", Anna stated after you sat in the empty waiting room waiting to be called.
"He's been busy lately - he has a meeting today with the team, they're also launching a new collection for Quadrant and they're investing a lot in the social media content, so he's been busy recording a lot of videos and stuff", you offered, never shy whenever it came to talk proudly about your boyfriend's achievements, "and we're also on the countdown for the season to begin, so there's training and meetings and all that".
"Sounds like a busy schedule, no wonder why I haven't seen him - I'm surprised you even see him at all", she joked, grabbing her phone once she remembered she had something to show you.
You were surprised yourself at every bit of time you were able to spend with Lando, as lately it had become near impossible to do so apart from sleeping in the same bed, and even that was rare as he was often travelling between Monaco and England on a weekly basis.
"Ms. Y/N Y/L/N?", the doctor called you before you stepped inside the exam room, starting with the procedures.
The check up itself didn't take long despite the twenty five minute wait for the drops to dilate your pupils, "Don't forget your sunglasses, Y/N!", the secretary reminded you before you stepped outside.
"Thank you, have a good afternoon", you smiled before tapping Anna's shoulder, "Give me your arm so I won't trip", you mumbled.
"Is your sight that bad? The doctor said it should be good enough", Anna worried as she was about to open the door.
"No, it's fine, but if I'm clumsy on any good day, imagine how probable it is for me to fall on some stupid step or raised cobblestone", you argued as you both chuckled, making your way to her car.
Before you went home, your friend stopped by the pharmacy to get you the relief eye drops you'd have to follow the medication regimen with for the next few days, stopping by your favourite bakery so you could enjoy some sweet pastries.
"Can you even read these prescriptions?", Anna asked as she read the regimen you had to comply with.
"Stop making fun of me, you say that as if I'm almost blind", you swatted her arm before reading - trying to - the words, "fucking hell, am I?".
"I can barely read them myself, Y/N! They're so tiny I don't know how they give these to eye patients! Is Lando going to be home soon? That way he can help you with this", she suggested.
"Can I even see the time? At least that", you mumbled as you looked at the large numbers on your phone, "he'll probably take a while still - I can set the alarms on my phone and I'll memorise the different drops", you tapped your head.
Once it was all settled and you assured Anna she was fine to go home and you'd be perfectly well on your own, you walked her to the door before going back to the living room as the sun was no longer shinning outside and you could lay down on the sofa.
The nap you were taking was cut short by the door being shut, making you rub your forehead before an alarm rang. Getting up to head to the bathroom where you kept the supplies, you found Lando taking his trainers off.
"Hi baby, how was your appointment?", he asked as he put the footwear away.
"It was good, need to go and apply my drops", you smiled, turning the light on and grabbing the right box of medication.
"Is that what the alarm was for? I thought we had gotten a new security system I was not aware of", Lando joked as he watched you wash your hands.
"Yes, these instructions are so small to read that Anna thought it would be best to have alarms so I wouldn't mess it up since it's still a little bit blurry", you mused.
"Do you want me to do it?", Lando offered.
"No, it's fine - I'll have to do this for the next 48 hours anyway, so I might as well get used to it", you stopped talking so you could apply them, almost holding your breath until the drops fell.
"My lovie", Lando whispered on your ear once he felt it was okay to approach you, hugging your mid section from behind and kissing your neck as you put your hands on top of his.
.
You were adding the finishing touches on the present wrapping, the shiny gold string fiddling between your fingers as you tried to tie a bow with it around the paper bag handle, when Lando stepped inside your home office.
"That's looking pretty", he mused as he handed you the tape you were looking for on your desk.
"Thank you", you offered before placing the sticky piece down, "the bag is quite plain and even though the present inside is what will get her attention, it should come in nice wrapping".
"Who is this for?", Lando asked.
"It's for Maya's birthday tonight", you smiled, admiring your work.
"Is that tonight? Fuck, this week has flown by", Lando cursed, "I can't make it - will you let her know, please? I'm sorry I can't go", Lando pouted, "if she has to pay for having made the reservation with me in it, let me know and I'll pay my part!".
"I had already told her I'd be going alone, so she made my reservation without a plus one", you mused, remembering the conversation that came around the time of booking the venue.
Lando was leaving late in the afternoon for a trip with Max, Ria and some of the Quadrant athletes, so like you predicted, he couldn't attend the dinner with you.
"Oh", Lando offered.
"Max told me about your plans and when Maya told me the date, I assumed you wouldn't be able to go", you explained with a tinge of sadness and conformity in your voice.
"Well, it seems you guessed right", Lando chuckled despite the uneasy feeling on his chest.
You seemed sad that he wouldn't be able to join you, but at the same time you didn't? Lando put the topic at the back of his mind for now, heading to the bedroom so he could pack the last minute things.
"I was thinking of wearing this dress", you said once you joined him inside a while later, taking the steamer out of your drawer and setting it up to get out any kinks and wrinkles.
"That one is one of my favourites on you, but then again, they all are, I think", Lando mused, kissing your cheek as you waited for the steamer to be up for use.
"Figured it would be a little cold out tonight, so I chose this one, and that coat over there", you pointed.
"You'll be the most beautiful in that room", your boyfriend complimented, pecking your lips before he let you continue your task.
A couple hours later, Lando found himself restless as he scrolled through the posts and stories of Maya's birthday dinner, "Ria", he called, "what would you think if your partner made plans without you because they figured you wouldn't be able to go anyway?".
Ria exchanged a look with Max and Tara before she spoke, "did they ask me if I could go?", she offered.
"They didn't, but truth be told it's not like you have given them much to believe that you could join them", Lando mumbled the last part.
"I think I'd be a more 'it is what it is' at the start if I saw that it was something out of their reach, but I'm not sure I'd put up with it if it was genuine disinterest from them", Ria explained.
"It's not disinterest! They're just busy and shit at organising their schedules", Lando groaned defensively.
"Okay, okay", Ria calmed the room down once Max squinted his eyes at his bestfriend, "then I guess they would have to make sure they do better", she shrugged, "is everything alright?".
"Yes, yes, sorry for snapping just then", Lando offered her a tight lipped smile.
Everyone carried on with what they were doing before the existencial question, Max seemingly as stuck on it as Lando, "is this an hypothetical thing or are we calling people by their names and working this out?", he whispered to Lando.
"It's fine, just a loose thought I had there", Lando grumbled.
.
Lina 🤎
Hi, Y/N!
You won't bother, don't worry - I think I miss having someone other than my boyfriend to talk to 😅
Would it be okay if you visited in the afternoon? Our morning routine is still a shitshow (literally and figuratively), so we would appreciate it if you came after her first nap, around two pm?
One of Lando's older couple friends had a baby a couple of weeks ago, and while you were dying to meet their baby boy as soon as he came earthside, you were respectful of their adjustment period so you waited for them to be up for visitors and were ready to comply with whatever schedule they offered.
"It smells nice in here", Lando commented as he stepped inside the kitchen, "what delicious food are you making and can I please have a bite?".
"I made a little tray for us, but the big one is to take for Lina and Theo - I can imagine they don't have much time for cooking, so food is welcomed by them", you smiled, setting the cheese grater down once the measurements were like the recipe stated.
"Are you going to visit today? I have some streaming with Max scheduled for this afternoon", Lando added.
"Lina told me that this afternoon was the only time they could handle some visits - you know how it is with new parents and newborns and all of that -, I didn't want to change their schedule when I have some flexibility with my schedule", you explained, "I'll give the little one a big kiss from you, then?".
"Well, in that case, I should give you two big kisses then - one for you", he kissed your lips once, "and then this one for the little one", he smiled before kissing you again.
You shared lunch in a semi comfortable silence, Lando telling you a bit about the stream they would be doing and you sharing some work updates from your end.
When Lando gets a text in the middle of watching Max send his virtual car to the curb, "who might that be that's brought such a big smile to your face?".
Lando checked the photo to make sure the baby's face was covered despite his friends having already posted him, tuning the phone to show the camera, "Y/N met our friends' baby boy for the first time", Lando gushed.
"That's the little nugget", Max cooed, "she looks very happy with a baby on her arms", he wiggled his eyebrows, "have you met him already?".
"No, I haven't yet! She could only go this afternoon and we had this so...", Lando tsked, admiring the picture one last time before setting the phone back down. The baby was perfectly nestled on your arms, hiding his face on your chest as you looked down at him with a big smile on your face.
Now that he thought about he, he hadn't seen such a big smile in quite some time, and he was really starting to believe he was the reason behind it. He was absent, more than usual and more than the standards of your relationship considering his job.
The air had shifted around you once you came back from meeting Lina's little boy and Lando could only pinpoint it to the subject he thought about earlier.
"Lan, did you hear what I said?", you asked as you showed him another picture of you touching your noise in the little boy's.
"It's just... are we okay, baby?", Lando questioned. Even though it seemed like he was the only one that felt there was something wrong - different at least -, surely you had noticed it too.
"What makes you say that?", you asked.
From the serious tone, your boyfriend mentally slapped himself. Whatever it was, he was on the wrong and you had indeed noticed it too.
"I've noticed you don't ask me for help with stuff like driving you somewhere or accompanying you to places, which is fine if you want to do things on your own, I'm not saying you can't have your own independence, you know I'm not controlling you in that way - obviously! Fuck, I'm rambling! What I mean is, I have been taking notice that you just assume that I'm not available, and your assumptions are not unfounded, and it makes you sad, and I myself am upset that it has reached this point", Lando stated.
"It's not great, I can tell you that, but we knew it would be like this, your schedule is not the regular nine to five - it is what it is, Lan", you argued.
"But it's not, not all the time anyway! I want you to know you can always count on me!", Lando stated, "Y/N, you are one of my priorities and I never want to let you down - I'm going to make sure that from now on I spend more time with you and that I'm by your side a lot more", he rubbed your palm, "damn, I was so stupid, I'm sorry, lovie".
"Lando, these things happen", you attempted, "now we can work on it".
"You can count on me for little and big things in life - you need to go to the post office? I'm there helping you put the letter in the box. Dinner with your friends? I'll find it in the schedule to go and I don't care who I have to tell no to!", he pointed his finger, "I never ever want you to feel like you don't belong in my life or like I don't want to be involved in yours, Y/N - I'm so so so sorry that it took me so long to notice it".
"It's in the past", you smiled, pecking his lips softly, "now, look at this cute little nugget, he's so cute, we have to go there another day so you can meet him, and I think Theo won't mind another traybake".
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th4tprettylittleliar · 22 days ago
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pairing: Uni Professor Leon Kennedy x Fem!student reader
CW! : Leon’s cheating ;( , age gap (18 and mid 30s) , degrading themes, reader is a dummy, semi-public sex, (not really) fingering, piv sex, unprotected sex use protection! Reader looses virginity, readers lowkey obsessed , leon fingers her w/ wedding ring (sorry) , Leon’s rude as hell, some religious themes??
A/N : please lmk if there’s any spelling errors! I was really excited to publish this so I proofread fast. Please share this! It’s my first one shot on this blog . EDIT: I proofread now so lmk if there’s still spelling errors or grammatical errors
Okay, fine. Maybe your mother was right. Beauty doesn’t get you that far in life. How were you supposed to know?! For half your life, all you had to do was smile big and everything was handed to you.
Your friends— your popularity.. your boyfriends! You kind of figured everyone just liked your dumb-blonde personality. Not only that but you were just as sweet as a sugar cookie; something someone could crave and desire.. and cherish when it was in their grasp. Sweet and a little dumb? You had everyone at you feet.
Many wished they were you. You were the full package. Except, you were missing just one thing..
Your fucking brain.
It’s not like you were a clutz.. dear god no you weren’t helpless! You just needed extra help. Your daddy always told you that you were a special girl. Your frontal lobe just hasn’t developed yet! That’s why you almost flunked freshman year, that’s why you still use the “L” method to distinguish your left and right, and that’s why it took you nearly 6 retakes of the drivers ed test to finally get your license.
Yet, nobody trusts you enough to give you the keys to their car.
You hated it but you knew it was the price for your beauty. You can’t be that perfect in a world of monstrosity. But yet, even with just your face alone (and maybe a rather rich father) you still got into a good university.
You were so excited when you stepped foot on that campus, you would finally be living out your Rory Gilmore dreams! You were majoring in psychology, and biochemistry. You knew you had to try hard, harder than ever.
Your future depended on whether or not you completed college, and you weren’t going to mess this one up! You were determined. You wanted to live your rich-dentist fantasy with 2 boys. You needed to try your hardest.
Even if your hardest wasn’t enough.
It had almost been a month at university and you already had your eyes locked on someone in particular.
He was so soo dreamy, almost too dreamy. He made you forget that you were here to study, to be a rich mother of two!
You sometimes had to slap yourself to bring yourself back to reality. (Yes, you unconsciously did it in public) you’d get a weird stare or two but you didn’t really mind anymore.
His deep voice echoed against the lecture halls, he sounded stern— mean almost. You absolutely loved it. You loved every minute of that 3 hour lecture period. You thought you’d be bored out of your mind but your brain moved the little thoughts you had left and replaced them with the images of him.
You knew you weren’t the only one who had a infatuation strong liking towards the man.
You heard his name echo all through out that school, the gossip traveled. Every single girl who had a lecture with him either loved him or will eventually love him, it made you jealous.
You’ve never felt like you had to compete for something like this before,
It was always given to you on a golden platter.
It’s not like you could have him anyways. He was your professor. Shocker! You always went for the harder to get ones, figured your looks would do the rest.
Months of just looking down at him from the theatre seats were excruciating. You needed to be right beside him. For the past 4 months that’s all you wanted. You didn’t need to purposely flunk any test because that was already going to happen.
You just wished there was a moment where you could have him all to yourself. That’s all you wanted, a little one on one.
You could’ve easily emailed him and asked for tutoring sessions but why should you? It just doesn’t make sense why he hasn’t offered you any help. Your grades were a mess.
You started to get unmotivated, all you did was analyze him, and hyperfocus on every single one of his attributes. Its the hardest you’ve ever focused on something in your life. Just to go home and fantasize about everything he could do to you. That’s was probably why your grades were a mess.
You decided to pull yourself together and stop. Your dad was threatening to pull you from university calling it, “a waste of money.” So you knew you had to get your act straight.
It was hard, very hard but you stopped obsessing over him. You didn’t want to give up on your own dreams so you went to tutoring groups with your classmates to help get your grade up. That’s where. you met a guy named Miguel that helped you a lot.
You guys usually studied after class, or on the weekends with a cup of complementary coffee always purchased by him. It was a nice distraction from everything. You even managed to start passing the class before the progress report! Your daddy would be proud.
It was like this for weeks. Just the two of you studying for any upcoming tests, or even finishing an assignment together. It was really nice. You were even starting to get really comfortable with him aswell.
Today was another day of that long psychology class. Your usually giggle session with Miguel was some what masked by Professor Kennedy’s talking. You guys were barely taking note of what he’s was teaching.
His same, deep voice echoing through out the lecture hall. Except, every time Miguel and you started to talk amongst yourself, Professor Kennedy went quiet until you guys stopped, embarrassing you both.
You looked up every once and awhile from your computer, pretending to focus on his lesson, just to turn and talk to Miguel again. Professor Kennedy grew annoyed, and paused his lesson.
“Is their something more important up there then what I’m teaching?”
His voice was laced with his grim expression, making your heart drop. Hes never even addressed you like this.
“Excuse me?” Your soft voice ecoed against the loud silence. By the looks of it, your response pissed Mr. Kennedy off.
“Is that the issue? You cant here me? Why don’t you sit down here, sweetheart.” Professor Kennedy looked up at you, meaning buisness. A pout forming on your lips as you picked up your bag. Miguel looked just as shocked as you did while you walked awkwardly down the theatre steps. Plopping yourself in the center of the front row, like he asked.
His arms met the table before you, giving him leverage to lean down. His annoyed voice loud enough for only you to hear,
“How dumb are you? If you wanted to help yourself, you’d pay attention to my lecture. Instead, your giggling up there hoping to clutz your way into his pants, huh? For God’s sake, don’t be stupid and a slut.”
Shock was the only emotion desplayed on your face. Mouth dropped, eyes widening. He smiled before apologizing to the class before continuing his lecture.
Now, it’s a known fact you aren’t the brightest star in the universe, but this was a new low. You didn’t care what he said at all, it just made your stomach fluttery. You knew it’s probably wasn’t okay or even allowed for him to say that.
Not saying being called a slut didn’t hurt your pride, but it just made you fantasize him in a newer light. If slutty was being a little slower and wearing sundresses so be it. You thought you got over this obsession, you thought it was over.
The rest of the class you spent with your mind in a daze and your thighs clenched together. Nobody has made you feel this way. You felt hot, really hot. Tingly too.
If it was any other person, you would’ve let your father handle it. But no, it was Professer Kennedy. Quite frankly, you’d bend over backwards for that man
Class ended, you slowly packed up your things before putting on your school bag. You grabbed your watered down latte in sync as you took a step down the lecture theatre stairs, before hearing your name echo in the now quiet classroom.
“Yes, Professor Kennedy?” Your voice softer than usual as you slowly walked to his desk, your caked face tilting in the process.
“Look, I have my daughters dance recital in a hour and if I’m late my wife is going to beat my ass. So, I’m going to make this quick.” No.. did you here that wrong? he didn’t say wife.. Hopefully he didn’t notice the frown that formed on your face.
“I’ve noticed you’ve got your grades to passing and that’s fine but your barely passing. Your grades aren’t fantastic. I need you to focus on me in my class, not the man sitting next to you. I want you sitting front and center in my lectures going forward.” His tone harsh, how you liked it. This was a blessing from God, putting you right in the path of Leon’s view.
“I thinks it’s best if I sit next to Miguel, he actually helps me out a whole bunch. You should’ve came to me when I was actually failing, Professor Kennedy.” Dumb or not you knew what you were doing. Your sweet smile dawning on your glossed lips, your hands clasped together. He didn’t like that, at all.
“If you wanted to get your grades up, you would’ve came to me. Its university, doll. Do you need your professor following behind you asking if you submitted you assignment?” This is what you loved, the way you were talked to by him made your heart flutter. It was weird, you’ve never felt this way.
“Well, it would’ve helped.” You shrugged, a little giggle escaping your lips but you were met with dead silence and a cold stare. So you stopped.
“Wednesdays, Fridays, and occasionally Saturdays you’ll meet me in here at 6:00 to 8:00 for personal lectures. Dont tell anyone, you’re lucky I’m wasting my time on you. Your grades reflect my teaching so this is mandatory.” His tone monotone and uninterested, you had a bright smile on your face, though. Much more time with Professor Kennedy? This was a dream come true. Sadly, you’d have to end your study sessions with Miguel..
“Thank you so so sooo much Professor! I’ll be sure to come in tomorrow.” Genuine happiness was displayed on your pretty face. Professor Kennedy rolls his eyes before grabbing his briefcase and exiting the lecture haul
“Don’t be late.”
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And you did just that.
It wasn’t really your fault… you needed to look good for you tutoring lesson! You wanted to wear this yellow sundress with white ruffles but you couldn’t find it. You looked for almost half an hour just for it to be on your bed.. too bad! Your makeup wasn’t working out either so you needed to restart. Then the car wouldn’t start and… well you get the point.
You also needed your latte so you were about an hour late. You showed up to the empty lecture room, no denying that you looked really good. You just couldn’t find Professor Kennedy.
Suddenly, his office door opens up and your met with an angered man, peering into your soul like he’s about to take it.
“I am so sorry look-“
“Save the bullshit. Your late but you have a fucking Starbucks coffee in your hand?” Proffesor’s voice is echoing off the walls, you gulp before responding
“Coffee helps me focus! I can get you one next time.” Your sweet smile stretched across your face again, trying to lighten the eerie mood.
“No, I don’t want your gratitude. You look like you stepped out of a paegent. Get in here.” He degrades before stepping into his enclosed office. This was the first time his words actually upset you, did you do to much? You thought you looked pretty..
You slowly crept into his office, looking around. It was bare, but it looked comfy ish. He had a nice fuzzy blanket in the corner chair. His desk was front and center with a wooden chair in front of it. Maybe you were looking for a little too long..
“Are you just going to stare at the chair or are you going to sit in it?” His usually demeaning words, he made you feel more stupid than you already did.
“Sorry.” You mumble, siting in the chair before you, your eyes look directly at his, eyelashes batting in his face. Almost felt like a brag.
“Your staying until 9 know since you decided it was okay to be late.” he bowed his head in disappointment as he typed on his computer for what felt like hours.
“Get your text book out and turn to page 132” he demanded, and you did exactly that. The first time in forever you’re accurately following instructions
You stay quiet and still while he types away, your textbook wide open and your phone next to it. Sometimes you found yourself basking in his features. His dyed blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes, his lips, his muscles… god his muscles.
“You’re staring.” Professor Kennedy breaks the silence as you flinch, turning to look at other rather boring things in his room. You could’ve sworn you saw him smile a little.
He actually wasn’t a bad teacher. He guided you through the text book chapters, and adjusted to your learning pace. He knew it would take a while for you to grasp onto the concept of psychology, but for the first time in a while he was willing to wait.
These study sessions helped a whole bunch, somehow with a brain capacity like yours you were actually learning some new concepts. You were finally able to say that you’ve learned something here. Your grades went up to high B’s and periodically low A’s which was a stretch from the beginning of the year. Just a little more studying and.. what?
You failed the chapter 7 test. Now, from the normal point of view you’d be confused, baffled even. How did you bomb a test when you were doing amazing in the class course? But in your point of view, you needed this, this had to be done.
You purposely flunked that test without a care in the world.
Why? Because you’ve noticed he became more distant the more you began to grasp onto psycology, the more you understood it. The tutoring sessions went from four days a week to only once or twice a week for an hour. That wasn’t enough time at all. He even gave you the opportunity to sit next to Miguel again but you didn’t. Why? Because you needed to be front and center. The first thing he sees when he looks around. You wanted to be the only thing on his mind and it’s not fair that he’s not getting the hint.
Why is this happening to you? You were always front and center, the first thought on everyone’s mind. You were practically a god at getting the male gaze and he didn’t bat and eye at you. Is it his wife? He already expressed the discontent in the relationship to his colleagues on the phone. He must’ve thought you weren’t listening.
This isn’t fair at all.
But at least he emailed you last night, you smiled so wide when his notiftication popped up on your phone, and even wider at what he wrote.
Sunday 6:30pm lecture room. Don’t be late. Professor Leon Scott Kennedy
You honestly didn’t think he’d care, and he probably noticed something was fishy because of the ratio from your test to your average grade. It was nearly impossible but you didn’t care, at all. You needed an excuse to see him and that plan fell right into your lap.
you eagerly waited for Sunday to come, it was only two days away but you didn’t have his class for the rest of the week. It felt like it’s been weeks since you’ve last seen him.
Sunday finally rolled around, and of course you had to doll yourself up. That signature sweet smile plasted on your full face, the dress that barely covered your ass. You’ve also grasped the concept of turning others on. Something that came natural to you but you wanted to crank the knob a little.
Your sandals clapped against the wood flooring as you approached his office door, before knocking on the door (knock, knock knock, knock). You were so excited that you instead brought ice cream today.
Leon reluctantly opens the door, to be met with you all dolled up, batting your stupidity long eyelashes in his face, and a ice cream cone in hand.
“Sit down, now.” This was different, or it felt different. Your heart actually dropped. Usually his tone made butterflies appear in your stomach, but he sounded genuinely pissed off.
“Yes sir.” Your words barely audible as you sat in the familiar wooden chair. You dress impossibly bunching up more, you take a light lick of your ice cream cone, as you watch him walk around to his side of the desk.
Leon would’ve usually sat in front of you, but no. He stood instead. His muscular arms on full display to you. He bunched up his sleeves but you were a mess already for this man. Your eyes couldn’t peer away from the veins that were prominently on display in his biceps. Only his voice could’ve broken you out of that trance like state.
“What the fuck is your problem.”
“Huh?” You look up in utter confusion, taking another lick of your icecream, a little dripping on to the side of your lip. His tongue pokes his cheek as he looks up at his office ceiling. Oh, he’s mad. Really mad.
“I tried so hard to be patient with you. So hard to give your dumb ass a chance. You were genuinely impressing me, growing on me even. Just for you to throw it all away.” His face inched closer to yours, you swallowed nothing out of pure fear. Professor Kennedy could practically hear your heart beating
“Professor Kennedy-“
“Oh, don’t you fucking call me that!” His voice impossibly louder than ever causing your eyes to widen and you to jult up in your seat. He decides to sit now and leans back, just for his eyes to narrow at you. He’s never looked better.
“Don’t act like I don’t know this game your playing. Prancing up in here with those stupid ass dresses, always something on your face, and seriously? Practically deep throating that ice cream cone in front of me? You’re not niave as you think you are.” His words shock you, you just liked looking pretty for him was that such a big deal?
“I don’t know what your saying.” You whisper, your doe eyes only growing bigger as you stick your tongue out, taking another drag of the ice cream.
“If you wanted to fuck your professor, you should’ve just asked. You look pathetic” Ouch. Now that one hurt, pathetic? You don’t even recall ever being called that.
“I don’t want to fuck you—“
“Oh, sure you do sweetheart. You’re telling me if I offered, you wouldn’t agree?” He caught you, he did. This was embarrassing being put on spot like this. Pouting as you look away from him. He’s mocking you, and your not going to fall for it.
“Sir, I’m not a slut. Plus, you have a wife.” You reminded him like he somehow forgot. He scoffed as he sat in his chair, looking at you face to face you.
“Come here” he demanded, his demeanor not faltering as your eyes widen, and your body stiffens up.
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have a hearing problem? I said come here.” You did just that, slowly standing up in confusion as you walk to the side of him
His computer was ahead of him, he pulled up a different tab before spreading his legs before him,
“Sit.”
You heard that wrong, you must’ve. He didn’t— He pat his thigh, his glare looking meaner every second as you finally speak up.
“I- I can’t.. Your my teacher and—“
“Am I asking you to take off my pants and suck? No, I said sit.” You reluctantly sit on his lap, awkwardly as you looked at the laptop before you.
“Yeah, you see that? That’s your score. A fucking fifty-four. Do you know how badly that’s going to affect your average for my class?” This felt too degrading, you were somewhat disappointed in yourself.
“Why did you fail my test on purpose?” Its over, he hates you. He fucking hates you more than he already did.
“I- I didn’t.” You stutter through your lie as he spanks you thigh, causing you to jult forward as his hands come in contact with your hips.
“Fine! You started seeing me less.. I just wanted to see you more, and I knew If I passed the test that the tutoring would stop.” You’ve never felt so ashamed before, he shakes his head in disbelief as you fiddle with your fingers nervously
“How sad, you flunked your test for extra time with your professor..” He mocked, grabbing a hold of the back of you neck, causing you to yelp as his lips met the shell of your ear
“You’re going to get what you wanted, baby. But, your retaking this test as well.” And with that he grabbed a hold of your hips, forcing you to face him on his lap as your hands met his shoulders, startled.
“Wait— I can’t this is morally wrong. You have a wife..”
“You didn’t care when you bent over with those short ass skirts, you didn’t care when you ‘accidently’ brushed my leg with your foot.. don’t try to sell me that bullshit now.”
It was all too much, never in a million years would you have thought this would happen. You’re sitting on top of your wish, and it’s getting harder beneath you.
“What if we get caught?” You mumbled, eyes faltering away from his in shame.
“Don’t be loud and we won’t” Without warning, his soft pink lips met yours. You were in shock but you finally kissed back. Your eyes closing in the process as your arms wrapped around his neck.
The kiss only got deeper as his hands went from your hips, onto your bare ass. Rubbing it soothingly before spanking it causing you to interrupt the kiss with a whimper against his lips. He forced his lips back onto yours as his tongue begged for an entrance, which you granted.
Your tongues faught for dominance before his would win the battle, taking over you as his hands crept below your dress and only your lower back. You shivered above him as you broke the kiss.
“We can’t do anything else.” You confessed in a daze, the thought of him cheating on someone for you had you feeling too responsible for the outcome. His forehead met yours as he whispered,
“Just a few kisses, I promise.”
Your niave self believed him as your lips met again, before they would finally travel to your neck, subtly biting and kissing causing you to whimper out,
“Just kisses.” You reminded him as he nodded, before sucking on the spot just below your jawline, your hands met his chest as you clawed at his suits vest. He finally decided to grab a hold of your hips before placing your back against his chest, your sandals propped on his knees as the laptop faced you now, and the image of your spread legs.
Your dress now settled on your hips, showing your frilly white panties that are drenched in your arousal, causing you to grow embarrassed and try to remove yourself off of him. This annoyed him as his much bigger hands forced you back down on his lap.
“You promised just kisses!” You whined out as he snickered below you, before whispering,
“Yeah, my fingers wanna give your cute little pussy some kisses too.” This startled you as his hands crept below your panties, forcing them to the side of your lip as he rubbed your clit, causing your legs to grow weak as he picked up the pace.
“These are not kisses!” You whine out, a moan following shortly behind you. The office door was still wide open, if anyone walked into the lecture theater they’d smell the aroma of sex, and they most definely hear your sweet little noises.
He finally scooted his chair closer to the laptop, before speaking up “Begin, sweetheart. Go ahead and take your test.” You shook your head defiantly, you couldn’t even think straight and he wants you to take a fucking thirty question test right now?
“I can’t—hmph!!” You stumble out, before letting out the most pornstar like moan. He forced his fingers inside of you, the same fingers his wedding band sat on. It hurt, a lot. He smiled as he saw little streaks of blood on his fingers
“A slutty virgin, I never thought I’d see this sight.” He chuckled as your head flung bag, earning a tsk from him.
“Nu -uh, doll. You have a test to take. We can do this all night.” His fingers slipped inside you like a symphony, your gummy walls trying to squeeze him out as he forced his way through
His hand crawled from your hip to his laptop as he prest ‘begin test’ the test was on a time limit, 45 minutes. There was no way you were finishing at all. Your eyes met the screen as your fingers clawed into his biceps, trying to slow down his relentless pace.
The pain was far long gone and your brain was mush. You weren’t going to be able to even think properly so why was he making you take the test now?
“Section one, vocabulary. Sleep and mediation are examples of what?” His tone far more happier than ever, he’s never acted like this in your near 5 months of knowing eachother.
He’s starting off easy and you couldn’t even open your mouth, your ears were ringing, fuck you were so close. “Professor Kenn- hmphh!!” That’s it, he found the spot you never knew existed. The spot that made your legs spasm uncontrollably and you pussy pulsate. You were so close you could feel it
“Right there! Oh.. Professor Kennedy!”
“Shhh, baby, you don’t want an audience, or do you? Answer the question.” He demanded, looking at the beautiful sight before him, 18 year old hottie pratically loosing the few brain cells she had stored up in her head, going dumb on his fingers. He wondered how you’d react on his dick next.
“I can’t- I.. I feel weird..” You confessed, it’s never felt this way before. Sure, you’ve touched yourself a handful of times, even to him. But you’ve never came from penetration, the feeling is so much more different and harsh. Your stomach had this forever feeling of it sinking, and your extremities just felt hot, and stuffed up.
“I’m- I’m gonna cum!” Your eyes began to roll back and within a second of hearing that, he pulled his fingers out and that beautiful feeling left your body, and your soul. “No.. no no! Professor Kennedy why-“ he stuffed your talkative mouth full of his fingers, you felt his wedding band on your tongue, making you mouth taste metallic like.
“I don’t want my baby cumming until she answers the questions, does she get that?” He’s speaking to you like he has to break down the simplest of words. Technically, in your state of mind he did.
All you did was nod as your tongue swirled on his fingers, before your teeth came in contact with his wedding band as you open your mouth, your teeth removing the wedding band as you place it on the table. He practically moans beneath you as he grabs a hold of you thighs
“You so dirty, baby.” He places you on your back, right beside his computer before bunching up your dress. You whined beneath him as your hands struggle to reach his chest, just wanting to feel on him. So much for just a few kisses. He had you right where he wanted you.
“You gonna take you first dick like a good girl, huh? I bet you are.” His words felt like drugs coursing through your body, making you clench around nothing as he practically ripped your panties off.
“Mhm, I promise.” You’re saying that now, until he unbuckles his trousers and pulls down his boxers that make you rethink your very decision. God, it was big, too big. His tip was irritated, looked bruised almost. With vigorous precum spilling from it as he pumped his dick, warming it up.
“I’ll take it slow since it’s your first time, sweetheart.” Is this a joke? You were struggling taking his fingers. There’s no way he thinks that’s going to fit.
He shifts his laptop to face your face, you turn your head sideways to look at the laptop as you whine. You shouldn’t be doing school work while getting fucked for the first time.
He slapped his tip into your exposed clit, earning a flinch from you.
“Please- sir..” you just loved that name didn’t you. “I have to teach you some patience as well, don’t I?” He snickered as he slowly attempted to slide himself it, you were squeezing from the pain causing him to grunt in response.
“Relax baby, you’re going to love it. Fuck… just relax.” His eyes were slowing shutting as his dick slid into you, with a struggle before he finally bottomed you out.
“No- no. Its to big I can’t take it.” You whined out as you struggled against him, his hands met the back of your knees as he pushed them against your chest, creating a easier and way deeper angle
“Oh- oh god!” You cried out as he began to thrust into your warm cunt, his chest heaved against yours as he fucked himself relentlessly into you, only picking up the pace.
It definitely hurt, but that pain would soon shift into probably the best pleasure you’ve ever got to experience. Not even your pink bullet vibrator could bring you to this euphoria.
“God! God! D— sir I can’t .. I nmphhh!!!” You practically screamed as the desk creaked below you, your test long forgotten about as he kissed your neck, trailing up to your ear as you whisper
“How many time did you dream about this—shit.. how many times— Jesus Christ.. did you touch yourself to me, baby? We both know you did, ohh… fuck..” He would periodically break out into a groan and his pace only quickened, your mind was in another dimension, all you could feel was your pussy being filled and pulsating, and your stomach filled with butterflies.
You were long gone, you ears doing much more than ringing, “going stupid on my cock, huh? Pretty girl probably can’t tell what I’m saying can’t she.” And all you could do was shake your head and moan like a bitch in heat.
“God you look so beautiful, getting fucked dumb next to my wedding ring. How slutty can you get?” His pace was quickening almost sending you over the edge, his tip hitting your crevix as you cried out hoping something could answer your prayer of pleasure and allow you to cum.
Leon grabbed his ring, putting it on his finger as he rubbed your starved clit with it, using it as a stimuli. Before shifting his hips to hit that perfect spot within you, that spot that makes your vision splotchy and you legs shake.
“God- Daddy I’m gonna cum! Please don’t stop! Please please please!” His pace only quickened as the rope in your stomach snapped, causing you to practically scream, which was hushed by his hand as you came on his cock.
“That’s a new name. What happened to professor, baby?” You can’t talk anymore, there’s tears building up in your eyes from the overstimulation and he seems to be getting impossibly faster. The room was filled with his balls slapping against your ass, and the squelch your wet pussy makes every time his tip hits your gummy spot.
“I didn’t tell you that you could cum, but it’s your first time so I know you can’t handle it.” He mocked as he picked you up, sitting you on his lap. You fell like a ragdoll onto him, your head on his shoulder, your arms wrapping around back as he grabbed your ass and used his legs as leverage to bonce you on his cock.
Just this action alone made you spasm uncontrollably and cry out, your cunt vibrating against him had even him seeing stars as he quicken his pace. His office chair squeaking below him, his phone buzzing couldn’t be heard over his heavy breathing and your cries
“Fuck- baby where do you want my cum.” He asked, fucking into you like a sex machine, cranking up his speed by ten as he abused your pussy.
“Inside! Nghhh I’m gonna cum again!”
“You wanna get stuffed full of my cum? Have it leak out of you pretty girl? Say it” his words alone could send you over the edge, and they did
“I need it so bad- fuck daddy I’m cumming!!” The overstimulation was too much, everything was too much. You practically saw the gates to heaven as you squirted on him, this action alone made his dick twitch as he came inside you, his hips spasming causing him to thrust inside you as him came, he gripped onto you for dear life before the orgasm washed over the both of you.
“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.. I didn’t mean to.” You practically slurred out of exhaustion. All he could do was breathlessly laugh.
“Don’t apologize sweetheart, it was adorable.”
You sat there, in utter silence just in the embrace of one another. His hand met your hair, combing through it as he kissed your forehead. Your head lied on his shoulder, feeling his cum drip from you onto his cock. This was the softest he ever acted towards you.
“You said just a few kisses.” You mumbled tiredly, looking up at him as he laughed to himself.
“That was just a few kisses, sweetheart.” He said as he pulled out, causing you to whine from the sudden loss and a whine to escape your lips.
“You still never answered the question, baby.” He mumbled against your forehead, as you both sat still, recovering from the bliss you two shared.
“Oh, shush.”
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hobicakess · 6 months ago
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ROYAL TREATMENT | KNJ
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summary: Despite your arranged marriage you are coming to love Emperor Kim Namjoon and you surely do hope he's falling just as hard. Though in times like this you wished you never came to the Korean court, but Kim Namjoon sure does have a way with words and his coc-
rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)
pairings: Emperor!Kim Namjoon x Empress Reader
warnings: porn with a pretty plot , husband Namjoon, unedited, arranged marriage to lovers , period typical misogyny / ideals / themes , slight angst, minor violence , MC shakes the table , talks of having children, reader has a 'not like other girls moment' sorry , smug namjoon 'i want to eat his face' SMUT, Namjoon a emperor and a Dj? , clit pinching, fingering , nipple play, breeding kink no no no , very tame choking, big body tanned namjoon im seeing a pattern in all my namjoon fics.. love confessions, p in v, Namjoon loves his wife and MC loves her hubby 🫶🏼
authors note: Howdy hotties! this is my official apology for all the times i said i was going to update but i don't lol. this has actually been in my docs for a year… don't jump me pls have mercy!!! this is heavily inspired by Bridgerton and The great because i love a good hood jam!! anyway, hope you enjoy it and if you're new to my blog check out my other works xxx
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Since you've come to the Korean court to marry Kim Namjoon, he has been nothing but a gentleman.
Taking his time to get to know you as a person never forcing you to do anything you didn't want to do. You rejoiced that he didn’t take you on your wedding night instead holding you until you fell asleep in his warm arms. In your months of getting to know Namjoon you were coming to love the emperor and you hoped that he was falling just as hard. Though as of right now in this moment you wished you'd never come to this court.
Never married, never taken the time to know and love the royal that is your husband.
The Ladies of the court made you want to disappear. They were gossiping geese who didn't even read, they didn't know anything actually, only thinking of the latest hats from France or Russia. 
Aara was the leader of the flock and from what your handmaids had spilled– Aara and Namjoon used to have nightly affairs together before the two of you were married. You guess that's why she was so uppity and spiteful because she's bedded him, and you have yet too.
 “When will you and the emperor have children?” Aara asked, raising her glass teacup up to her thin lips.
“I am not ready for children nor is he''  
You and the emperor haven't even committed the act to conceive children, but she was the last person you'd tell this information to.
“When me and the emperor were intimate, he always said he'd put a baby in me. He's very vocal during lovemaking. That is too bad empress" all her geese cackle like witches while you sat in embarrassment. 
Your jaw tightened, fingertips starting to shake as you blew out a loud breath attempting to calm yourself down. You didn’t want to act out due to the fact the court saw you as a cruel person all because you were a foreigner who looked nothing like any of the ladies in Korea. Apparently, half the court believed you were the spawn of Satan or a witch, some rumors spread that you weren't even of noble blood.
All they needed was one good excuse to try and have you dethroned as empress and executed, but you couldn’t just allow her to walk all over you and talk to you in any kind of way anymore. You were still her superior. Standing from your chair everyone except Aara followed. 
Smoothing out your dress, you wait for her to move. Mockingly she looked around before she stood. “Oh, please forgive me for your grace. I did not notice you-"
The loud sound of the back of your hand making contact with her face echoed throughout the room. The music stopped playing and everyone went completely still and silent. Her geese tried to help her off the ground, but you raised a hand halting them to stop.  
“Aara. Ever since I stepped foot in this palace you have treated me with the utmost disrespect. I have spared you multiple times from my wrath because I am the empress and it’s simply not lady like” watching in satisfaction as her face reddens. 
“I do not care about your past relations with my emperor because at the end of the day. You were his whore, and I am his wife.” 
“I will bring him success; you will bring him disgrace and illegitimate bastards who will never run this country. Disrespect me again and you will be thrown into the slums and forced to work in the fields” Nodding at the ladies you walked out double doors with a newfound confidence.
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A Few Days Later
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“SHE'S SAID WHAT?”  you court maids' wince at the sound of your voice bouncing off the walls of your bathing room.
“Please do not be an angry empress.” Se-eun tried to reason by lightly pushing your shoulders back down into the milky lukewarm water.
“It is only a silly rumor.” Ye-Eun reassured you with a smile. 
You settle your back onto the stone behind allowing Sumin to softly brush through your thick coils. While Yoon, Isa, and Si-Eun looked for fragrances to add to the water. The girls have been your only friends since you’ve stepped foot into the castle. Sighing you let yourself relax just a little bit “What if the emperor hears of this? Surely, he’s heard that I striked her only days ago” 
“Yes, I’ve heard.” your emperor's deep voice echoed throughout the bath hall. Your Handmaid's scramble to bow but he simply raised his hand towards them “You’re dismissed.”
The girls bow toward you rushing off, now it was just you and your husband alone, and you were naked, but he couldn’t see your body through the creamy water. He walked towards you slowly moving into the spot behind you. 
“I apologize for interrupting your bathing time, but I have been busy, and this seems to be the only place we can be left alone.” 
“Of course, I understand my lord” you hum when you feel him brush through your hair. “I was gone from the palace for only six days' and yet you've already caused trouble.” He snorted, placing the brush down to lean on the tub's cold stone railing. “May I come in with you?”
You swallow hard, breathing heavily, nodding your head. You watched him wide eyed stand to his feet and start to unbutton his dress shirt showing off his golden chest, thick and toned. When he began to remove his pants you turned your head away placing your hands to your bare chest feeling your heart beating rapidly.
He stepped in leaning on the other side of the wall, “I've heard of you striking Aara, the whole noble country has” you sigh, sinking deeper in the water.
“You did well holding your own. I know she can be a.. nuisance.” he blew out a breath, thick arms stretching out to lean back on the marble. 
“Because you used to fuck her no?” The emperor sputters, eyes widening at your word.  “I have to get used to your vulgarness.” 
You hummed feeling a creeping pettiness enter your body. "Just like I have to get used to your whores." 
He stared at you with a playful glint in his eyes, "Are you jealous wife?" 
 You huff standing angrily, water dripping off your naked body, biting his lip tight, the pit of his stomach twisting in arousal as he stared at every curve and dip of your body.  “I am not a commoner; I do not get jealous.”
He swallowed trying to find the right words but she they’re not leaving his lips. You continue on your angry rant as you leave the tub grabbing your own towel. “I came here all the way from ten buck two, married a man whom I have never met, and everyone has failed to inform me on how to deal with having a husband who likes to share his seed with women who will never-”
You squeaked as a strong arm wrapped around your body. Your bare back was pressed onto a wet chest and the warmth of his breath on your neck gave you goosebumps as you shiver. “Let… me go Namjoon.”
He hummed as his hand roamed your stomach embarrassedly kneading the doughy flesh. “You won't even let me say how proud I am? My empress, my wife who speaks her mind and lets her power over her subjects be known.”
You felt hot all over as his other hand softly wrapped around your neck then trails lower and lower to your center. “I wish I was there to see it” he pressed himself into your back and you felt it. 
He was thick , and hot against your back as he groaned. “Tell me to stop and I will .. tell me please.” In front of you both there was a large mirror where you two stared at each other. He took your silence as a go to continue his touches on your body. He turned your head to him, pressing his lips to yours.
Roughly the two of you kisses tongues dancing over one anothers as his hands groped your breast, and nipples. When you both felt dizzy you part with a string of spit as you both panted. He smiled lazily  brown eyes hazy as he partied your sticky thighs with his large hand. Finger swiping the essence that drips from your core. 
“You squeal embarrassed, closing your eyes as he runs his finger effortlessly through your slippery folds, then taunting your clit. He effortlessly slipped his thick cock in between your folds, his hand gripping your hips tightly as he held your jaw in his other hand. He thrusts his hips into your pelvis smacking against your ass, your wetness coating his cock while he wildly fucked your thighs. 
“Do you know how tempting you are?” He grunts in your ear while you gasp and wither under his touch. “I must hold myself back every night from pinning you down and fucking you worth an inch of your life.”
Your stomach began to twist from the pressure of his thumb stroking your clit in rough circles, “Joon-” 
“There you go cum for me” You gasp, thighs quivering, feeling your knees wobble but he holds you up, thrusting quicker between your thighs. you fall apart in his hold shivering and gushing over him. 
He pulls his cock from between your thighs hand wrapped around himself as he uses your essence to jerk his red and leaking tip. He cums with a deep groan, white ropes landing onto your ass. Namjoon's head falls onto your shoulder breathing you in.
“Lets clean up, hm?” 
nodding weakly you allow him to bring you back into the now cool water of your bath. He cleans you without a peep only letting out soft deep rumbles 
When the cleaning is done, he brings you to your shared bedroom that is connected to the bathing room laying you softly onto the soft fabric of your bed. You watch him busy himself grabbing the oils, and lotions you always applied after bathing. His hands started from your left foot rubbing you lovingly. The aching between your legs starts again, too aware of how close his hands were to your cunt as he makes his way use to the crease of your thighs. “I do not fornicate with. . . horses.”
Wow what a way to set the mood.
Namjoon chokes on his spit, a deep laugher bubbling from the depths of his chest.
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eveningepiphany · 4 months ago
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need | h.s oneshot
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summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.
warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!
a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍
———
At college, things happen, and they happen fast.
One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.
Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.
It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.
And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.
It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”
“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.
He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”
“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.
One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.
It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.
“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.
His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.
A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.
“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.
Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”
“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.
“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.
“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.
“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”
“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”
He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”
“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.
“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”
“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.
“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”
“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”
“You’re a horrible person.”
“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.
“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.
He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”
He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.
“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.
“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.
“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.
“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.
“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.
Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.
He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.
“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”
You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”
“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.
You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.
He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.
You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.
He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.
An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.
“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.
“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.
“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.
His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.
“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.
You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.
“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.
A wrong move and he will use it against you.
“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.
“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.
“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.
You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.
He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”
“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”
His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.
The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.
“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.
Everything is in the fine print around here.
You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.
His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.
He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.
Not making a move until you cave against him first.
He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.
Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.
Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.
Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.
You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.
He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.
Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.
Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.
This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.
There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.
Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.
Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.
Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.
Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?
He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.
You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”
Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.
A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.
And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.
Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.
At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.
You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…
Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.
Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.
The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.
His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.
His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.
But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.
Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.
Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.
It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.
You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”
He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.
You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.
It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.
And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…
“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.
Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.
“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.
“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”
You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.
But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.
“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.
“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.
The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.
Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.
Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.
As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.
He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”
His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.
“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.
Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.
“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.
His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.
It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.
Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.
There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.
You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.
His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.
“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”
It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”
A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.
His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.
Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.
It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.
Need, need, need.
That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.
“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.
He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”
The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.
“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”
“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.
He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.
“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.
The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.
“Yes, just do it, please.”
He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.
The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.
He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.
“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.
“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”
His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.
“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.
He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.
The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.
It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.
“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.
“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”
He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.
You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.
Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.
Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.
“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”
“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.
His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.
A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.
“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.
Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.
“More, Harry.”
A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”
“Need you inside of me.”
When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.
“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.
“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—
“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”
His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.
“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”
You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.
“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”
“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”
“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.
There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.
Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.
“I’ve got a condom.”
“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.
“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”
You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”
“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.
“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”
“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”
You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”
He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”
“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.
“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.
He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.
His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.
You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.
Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.
Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.
“Fuck Y/N…”
“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”
He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.
“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”
He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.
Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.
“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”
You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”
“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.
You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.
He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.
“Harry, Harry please.”
He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.
“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.
“You.”
He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”
“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”
There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.
“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.
“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”
Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.
He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.
You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.
“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.
“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.
“Please, want you to ruin me…”
Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.
He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.
He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.
“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.
He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.
His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.
“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.
“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.
“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”
His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.
“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.
“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.
Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”
“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.
“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”
“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”
“Mouthing you off, huh?”
He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”
“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”
“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.
“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.
And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.
Only time will tell…
———
a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol
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honeyed-hedonist · 5 months ago
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Parings: Jason Todd x afab!Reader Word Count: 4.4k Warnings: SMUT—MINORS DNI. mentions of blood, gore, and violence, oral (f & m receiving), lots of teasing, degradation (jason todd is a big meanie), a lil bit of a size kink if you squint (hims a big, big boy), an obscene amount of dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, jason has multiple orgasms (he’s got stamina, baybee), creampie, cum swapping, and, as always, declarations of love (barf). A/N: I wrote this for my sweet baby angel @heli0s-writes in a little fic swap we’re having because we like to scream at each other about all the fictional men we want to rail us into a pulp. I love you! I hope this makes your brain melt. Tehe 😈 (Reposting from my former blog)
IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.
Jason Todd is a menace. The absolute bane of your existence. 
Who does he think he is banging on your door at 3:45 in the morning? As if your neighbors needed another reason to gossip about you. Nevermind all the probing questions that were poorly masked as casual conversation when you were using the on-site laundry room or grabbing your mail. If you had to hear “So, you and Red Hood, huh?” one more time, you were going to rip your hair out. 
But Jason has always been brazen—not much has changed since the day you found him bleeding out in an alley between your apartment building and the pet shelter next door. He had a gunshot wound, lacerations over damn near every square inch of him, his mask all but shattered and exposing most of his face to you as you did your best to haul his massive frame up from the ground to drag him inside and patch him up. He had grinned at you the entire time, flirted with you while you fished the bullet out, asked you to dinner as you wiped the grit and grime off of his neck and chest. He hasn’t left you alone since.
You love him, of course. How can you not? He’s 6’4” of muscled steel, all wrapped up in a handsome, roguish bow with a sharp tongue and an even sharper mind. Any woman alive would be hard-pressed to resist his charms and you’re no exception, but it’s difficult to remember those warm, fuzzy feelings when he’s pounding on your door hard enough to wake the dead.
With bleary eyes, you unlatch the locks and yank it open, hissing at him as you fist your hand into the lapel of his jacket and tug him inside, ignoring the wide-eyed look on your neighbor’s face from across the hall. Your annoyance is overshadowing the rest of your senses, so you don’t see the tent in his pants, don’t notice his lust-blown pupils when he shucks his helmet off and throws it aside. Instead, you whirl on him, an accusatory finger pointed squarely at his chest in preparation to scold him.
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why couldn’t you just come in through the window? I keep it unlocked for this exact reason, Jason! You stubborn fucking ass—mmph!” His mouth is on you instantly—demanding and desperate as he crashes his lips into yours, uninterested in hearing your lecture. His gloved hands lift you off the floor in one fluid motion that has you instinctively wrapping your legs around his hips. You feel it then, the heavy, hard length of him trapped between your bodies and you gasp, an action that he capitalizes on by shoving his tongue past your teeth and into the back of your throat.
The tang of coppery blood fills your mouth and has you retreating, pushing back on his chest to look at him, but he’s right there chasing your mouth, walking blindly towards your kitchen table to set you down. “Jay—honey, wait. Are you—fuck!” His teeth are sharp against your throat, silencing your protest with the harsh sting of pain, grunting as he grinds his hips between your spread thighs. 
“Shut up,” He growls, voice low and dangerous, sending your synapses into overdrive, drowning out what little restraint you have left. “Need to be inside you. Need to hear those sweet sounds, baby, just—let me.”  Jason’s fingers are shaking when he moves to peel your shirt off, and you know it’s the adrenaline, that he’s high from the violence of his nightly patrol, teetering on the edge of losing control. These nights, you think, are the ones he needs you the most—seeking salvation with your body, tunneling his way to absolution with powerful thrusts of his hips, because if you can love all the fucked up parts of him, can love him even after all of his mistakes, then maybe, in his mind, he’s worth something afterall. 
So you nod, your own hands making quick work of the kevlar and leather he’s covered in, helping him shed layer after layer of it off until he’s bare chested and heaving with labored breaths. It’s then that you notice the gashes that cut diagonally across his collarbone, the skin ripped in a way that makes you shudder. Claws? A serrated knife? You can only imagine the kind of monsters he grappled with tonight. His chest is smeared with congealed, drying blood, a trail of it leading down his stomach, seeping into his briefs and tactical pants, staining the tuft of coarse, dark hair that leads to his pubic bone an ugly shade of rust.  
His eyes have turned shark-like—a depthless obsidian that makes him look possessed, the usual crystalline blue almost completely eclipsed by his blown out pupils. You should be terrified by the sight, the danger lurking within that endless dark, but your demons have always called to his, so all it does is stoke the flames now licking their way down your spine to pool between your legs. His gaze shifts the second your hands fall to your panties, exhaling a shaky breath as you try to wiggle out of them, to grant him access to the part of you that only he gets to explore.   
Jason snarls then, swatting your hands away to rip the flimsy strip of cotton clean off, tossing it over his shoulder where it floats delicately to the floor in shredded ribbons of fabric. And then he’s on his knees, dropping to your floor with a loud thud that has the knick knacks hanging on your walls tinkling with vibration from the force of his herculean frame hitting the laminate. He scoots closer, boots scuffing your floor, the heat of his stare now focused on your puffy slit. Every exhale is a rumbling growl, hot breath fanning out against your pussy as he inches closer and you bite your lip, ready to muffle the sound you know he’s going to tear from your throat the second he puts his mouth on you.
Warm, calloused hands skate up the insides of your thighs, throwing them open even wider to accommodate the width of his shoulders when he leans in. Jason’s nose settles against your slit and he inhales, breathing in the musky scent of your arousal. It leaves you frozen in place, barely breathing when you watch his eyes roll back with pleasure. It sends your pulse straight to your clit and you whimper, the sound acting as a catalyst for him to dive in tongue-first and lick a wet stripe through your folds. He moans at the taste of you, a deep, salacious vibration of sound that rattles your bones. It has you hooking your hands around the edge of the table in a white-knuckled grip, mouth slack when Jason’s deft tongue and plush lips begin to work you over.
He’s precise and purposeful when he eats you out—applying just the right amount of pressure, finding the perfect moments to snag that bundle of nerves with his teeth, gumming at your velvety cunt with his mouth, his tongue attuned to your every need. It takes him no time at all until you’re whining, begging like a god damn harlot, your fingers wound harshly into the roots of his hair, pulling him in, fucking yourself on his face. His girl. Perfect and needy, just the way he likes you.
But, again, Jason Todd is a fucking menace, glancing up at you with that wild look in his eyes, clocking the way your eyebrows are knitted together, the way you’ve got him pressed so deeply between your legs that he can barely breathe—he knows you’re close, can feel your thighs trembling against his ears. He waits, feasts on you until your eyes roll back into your skull, until he knows you’re about to rocket into a release—and then he stops, withdraws his mouth—a mouth that’s glistening with evidence of your pleasure, and offers you a sadistic smile.
“You thought I was gonna let you cum, princess?” He goads, swatting at your pussy hard enough that it sends you reeling, your body jerking with a yelp. “Nah…Tonight you cum on my cock and nowhere else.” Jason rocks back on his heels and stands, towering over you, crowding your space as he takes your jaw in his hand, his grip hard and unforgiving. “Do you understand me?” 
There’s a war happening in your mind, because you know he needs this control, know he’s standing on a very dangerous ledge and you have to tread carefully, but fuck if you don’t want to cop an attitude, push him right off that cliff just to see what he’ll do. Seconds tick by like minutes, his eyes bouncing between yours, expectancy evident on his handsome face while you contemplate how much you value the use of your legs and whether you’ll need them tomorrow. 
“I don’t take orders from you, Todd,” You spit, jerking your chin free from his hold. Curiosity has clearly gotten the better of you, and the fire your response sets ablaze in Jason’s eyes has your stomach flipping. His mouth curls into a wicked little smirk, and then you feel that same hand of his wrap around your throat and squeeze; hard. 
He bends forward, bringing his lips to the shell of your ear, tongue tracing the edge of the cartilage. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, hmm?” Your breath hitches at the gravel in his tone, and now you know without a doubt that you won’t be doing any walking tomorrow, let alone moving. Thank god you have some PTO saved up. 
Jason’s spine straightens when he yanks you off the table, the movement so fast you don’t have enough time to process what’s happening until your ass hits the floor and you wince. “Well, would ya lookit that.” He mocks, palm slapping against your cheek before he’s hooking two fingers into your mouth to suppress your tongue. “Since you’re down there already—might as well make yourself useful, yeah?” 
Fuck. Sometimes you forget the cruelty he’s capable of, the way he can talk so mean, degrade and embarrass you for the sake of your shared pleasure. It’s exactly what you asked for, and he always delivers. With blush stained cheeks, your face pinched in a glare, you reach for his pants, popping the button open, tugging the zipper down, and shucking the blood-stained bottoms and cotton briefs to his knees. What you’re met with has your jaw working, saliva pooling behind your teeth because goddamn is he hung. 
Jason is fucking massive everywhere, so it goes without saying that his dick would carry some weight, but it still astonishes you every single time you see it. Bobbing invitingly in your face, angry red at the tip and oozing precum, veins prominent and pulsing along the shaft just begging for attention, his cock sits proudly above an even heftier set of balls, and you clench remembering just how good they feel smacking your sensitive clit when he pounds you out from behind.
His fingers are still playing against your tongue, sliding over the wet muscle until he breaches the back of your throat and you choke. There’s drool seeping past his knuckles, dribbling onto your chest, and he hums his approval, eyes glittering with the promise of what’s to come. One last pass of his calloused digits before he’s angling his tip and pushing his length into the wet heat of your mouth with a grunt. “This is a much better use for that mouth of yours, don’t you agree, princess?” Jason coos at you, pressing forward until your eyes screw shut, tears trickling down your cheeks when his cock seats itself deep in your esophagus. “That’s a good girl—open up that throat for me. Yeah, just like that—fuck.”
Soggy, spit covered fingers curl against the crown of your head as Jason begins to thrust, fucking your mouth. Your eyes are blurry, crossing each time he bottoms out, breathing harshly through your nose with every withdrawal, your palms digging into the meat of his thighs to keep you steady, to keep you rooted enough to take his assault. Over and over again he drives his hips forward, the slippery sound of the suction of your lips is so fucking obscene it makes you moan. That filthy, wet squelch ringing out as more saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth, bubbling up in sloppy arcs that web between your chin and his cock, matting into his pubic hair, commingling with the remnants of his blood. 
You’re sure your face is stained pink from it by now, and you couldn’t care less, not when Jason’s face is twisted so beautifully above you—jaw slack and cheeks red, sweat marring his brow, hair curling at his temples and the nape of his neck. He looks so goddamn pretty when he loses himself in you like this that it makes the ache in your throat worth it, makes tomorrow’s hoarseness a welcome battlescar if only for the vision of him lost in the throes of violent passion above you right now. “Shit—m’gonna cum, princess. S’too good, I can’t—”
You slip your hand beneath your chin, between your bodies, cupping his balls, teasing them, rolling them in your palm, and he roars, bottoming out to cum down your throat. His cock pulses against your tongue and you wiggle it against his length appreciatively, humming while you swallow down spurt after spurt of milky semen until he’s pulling out with a hiss. Jason’s big hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up while he huffs. “Best little cocksucker, baby, but I’m nowhere near finished with you yet.”
Before you can blink. Jason hauls you up and deposits you right back onto the kitchen table, throwing your legs open. Letting out a low whistle, he drags the pad of his thumb up through your folds, swiping over your throbbing clit with a chuckle. “Such a pretty little pussy, hm? So eager, so fuckin’ desperate, clenching around nothing at all. You just wanna be full, don’t you?” He goads, slotting his hips between your thighs, letting the heavy weight of his dick slap against your sensitive pearl until you’re mewling, fingernails biting into his forearms.
“Jay—please,” You whine, your voice scratchy and rough, and he shakes his head, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth while his eyes make a slow trek up to meet yours. 
“After your little performance? Not a chance, sweetheart. I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready, but for now? For now you’re gonna put on a show for me. Let me see how you stuff that needy cunt when I’m not here.” He smirks viciously down at you, wrapping his fist around his length, pumping slow and languid while your face heats with embarrassment. 
The weight of his stare presses down on you, hot and heavy, as you guide a trembling hand between your legs, fingers dipping through your slick, peeling your lower lips apart with a breathy sigh. Despite his bravado, you know how bad he wants to be buried in your heat, cock shoved so deep that the tip batters against your cervix. It’s that thought alone that spurs you on, two fingers pushing into that wet, hungry hole with a moan. You hook them upwards, seeking, pressing against that tender little spot that makes your back arch, fucking yourself while he watches, his muscles coiled in waiting like a predator about to strike. It’s maddening—no matter how fast or how hard your fingers work into your pussy, it’s not enough, it’s never enough and he knows it.
“Feels good, huh, princess?” Jason huffs, pumping his dick while he watches you, taunting you with his words. “But you want more—can see it on that pretty face. Those little fingers just don’t cut it, do they? Course not, you need more. Need this fat cock, don’t you?” The whine that pours out of your throat is meek and pathetic, because he’s right and you can’t hide from him—not when you’re splayed out so beautifully like this. 
How many nights have you spent lying on your sheets chasing an unsatisfying release at your own hands. It’s never as good as it is with him, because Jason knows you. Knows all the ways to make you keen and writhe and burst. “Go on,” He says, “let me hear you say it. Beg me real nice and I might give you what you want.”
God damn him, you think, because he never makes it easy, not on nights like this when the battle is still fresh in his mind, when the adrenaline is still plowing through his veins. And god damn you if it doesn’t light you right up, heating the already charged air between you both. Your head falls back with a thud against the table and he tuts at you, pulling your gaze back where he wants it—on him. There’s a lump in your throat despite your fingers still working your cunt, the shame of having to beg both igniting your desire and stoking the fire of your petulance. Gritting your teeth, you spit the words he wants to hear at him with indignant venom. “Please, Jason. Want—need your cock. Fuck me, baby, just—” He chuckles darkly, free hand moving to grip your chin, his thumb stroking the hinge of your jaw.
 “Oh, I think you can do better than that.” Jason sucks a breath in through his teeth, his handsome face scrunched up with pleasure, and you catch sight of his other thumb swabbing over the tip of his cock, still rock hard and leaking between his clenched fist. “Try again.” 
“Fuck!” You spit, fingers soaked as they dive in and out of your pussy with delicious friction. Swallowing what remains of your stubborn pride, you gaze at Jason from beneath your lashes, your eyebrows furrowing, features turning soft and pleading. “Please, baby,” Your voice lifts an octave higher—whiney, simpering—and it works. Jason groans, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. “Fuck me, baby. Please fuck me. Need you, need that cock—please? M’so empty without it. Wanna cum all over you, Jason. Please!”
“That’s my girl,” He croons, tilting his head to capture your mouth in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else, distracting you enough that you cling to him, fingers carding through his hair while the head of his cock prods through your slit until it catches on your opening and he drives his hips forward, stretching you apart in one powerful, rough thrust.
It forces a scream from your throat that he swallows, bottoming out until his pelvis rests flat against the pocket of fat above your pussy. “Fuck—give me your fingers, baby. Put ‘em in my mouth.” Jason commands, and you know exactly what he wants, bringing your damp middle fingers up to his face, letting him suck the remnants of your efforts from your skin. You watch, hypnotized, as his eyes roll back and he starts to move, his teeth sinking into the digits while he fucks you. 
There’s nothing quite like having a cunt full of Jason Todd. The sting that comes from the sheer size of his dick, the way it stretches you to your very limits, those gummy walls forced open wide to accept every angry stab of his length. He bullies his cock into you, pounds hard enough that your kitchen table slides across the floor with each stroke. But he follows right along with it, hammering into you while his tongue slides between your fingers, sucking on them like a damn pacifier. It’s sinful, filthy, and raw—makes you absolutely feral, crying out for him over and over again, free hand dragging harsh lines down his muscled back so hard you’re certain you’ve broken the skin. 
“Mhmm,” he hums, letting your fingers fall from his mouth. “I know, baby. I fucking know—swear to god you were made for me. Take my cock so fucking well—shit!” He growls, righting his posture and reaching for your ankles. Jason locks both of them in one hand, closing your thighs together, making you even tighter, the fat lips of your pussy peeking out between your legs. The sight has Jason grunting like a wild animal. “That’s my pussy, huh?” He asks and you nod, completely lost to the mind-numbing pleasure he’s supplying. “Know it is. Always gonna be mine, baby. Gonna ruin this little cunt for anyone else. Gonna wreck it.” 
The world shrinks until it’s just you and Jason, no concern for your neighbors who can undoubtedly hear the way your kitchen table knocks against the wall every time he pounds his dick into your pussy, not a single care other than him and the way he loves you—the brutal way he fucks you. Resting both of your legs against the side of his chest that isn’t cut open, he hugs them close, looks down at you, and god, you’ve never seen him quite like this. It’s mesmerizing. 
And then he’s spreading your legs, pushing your shins up and into your chest, folding you in half. The new angle sends his cock even deeper, and you let out another rapturous cry, each stroke pummeling your cervix. He shushes you, fingers mashing your cheeks together in a tight grip. “Eyes on me, princess. Wanna see you fall apart.” 
So you watch, helpless and at his mercy, when his free hand wedges between your legs, fingers seeking out the place where you’re stretched around his dick, stroking it lovingly before moving his attention to your stiff, aching bud. Jason tilts his head, dropping his chin to his chest, letting a drizzle of spit cascade down between you. It hits its mark, splashing against the hood of your clit and rolling down until he catches it with his thumb, sluicing it up and over your pearl. 
“Don’t you dare hold back.” He commands, and all you can do is nod, tits practically tucked under your chin, body jolting from his incessant, endless assault. And then his fingers start to move and you wail. The friction is a welcome respite from the brutal way he’s handling you. Jason plays your clit like he knows what you’re feeling, flicking and tugging, applying enough pressure that the heat beginning to bloom in your belly burns hotter, a blazing inferno that’s about to consume you. “That’s it, let it out. Come on, angel, give it to me. Soak my fucking thighs.”
There’s always this brief moment before you cum—the universe stilling for the tiniest of seconds right before you unravel. You lock eyes with Jason in that instant, lip pinched between your teeth to try and muffle the noise you’re making. He nods at you, encourages you to let it go, tells you that he’s got you with just the look in his eyes, and it’s the truth. When time catches up to you in the next blink of your eyes, you fucking explode. Your back arches, knees slamming into your chest while you scream and quake beneath him. Jason wrangles you through your convulsions, pins your limbs to the table, coos and hushes you, lavishes you with praise while your cunt gushes around the intrusion of his cock. And what a fucking mess you’ve made. 
His teeth grit when he feels your cum wet his stomach and thighs, dribbling down his balls, and that’s the final nail in the coffin for Jason. With a roar of your name, he pumps into you a final time before he, too, loses himself. Jason cums hard—so hard that he damn near goes blind and deaf, vision whiting out, ears ringing as he empties himself into your swollen, fucked out pussy. It’s endless, the thick ropes of spend that now paint your insides. So much that you can’t contain it, a few errant, creamy strands dripping out of the place your bodies are joined. 
When he blinks his eyes open again, he catches as much as he can on his fingers, licks it into his mouth, and yanks you into his arms to kiss you. You’re barely conscious, but you kiss him back anyways, and Jason can’t stop the smile that curls his lips as he feeds you his cum from the tip of his tongue. Brushing your sweat matted hair off your forehead, his smile widens, peppering your reddened face with kisses. “You still with me, baby? Or have I fucked you stupid again?”
A halfhearted swat to the side of his head is your answer, and he laughs, the sound warm and infectious. There’s something so sweet about his laugh, it’s always made your chest swell, deep and gruff and perfect—just like him. You both stay locked together, his arms around you in a tight embrace, until your mind finally floats back into your body enough for you to remember how to be a person again. “Hey—as incredible as that was, and don’t you dare get an ego about it—you’re still very fucking injured, Jason.” 
Another laugh, his lips smacking against yours in a final peck that has you grinning right back at him. “Yeah, alright, I hear you, boss.” Jason teases, right before easing his softening cock from inside you. There are wounds that need tending, but he’s not quite ready to let go of this moment, feeling whole with your body wrapped up in his arms. He presses his forehead to yours once more, warm breath fanning out against your heated skin. “I love you, baby.” He whispers it, soft and sweet, your heart melting at the declaration. 
It’s a sentiment you return without hesitation, arms moving to cup his face—your whole world now held between the palms of your hands—and tilt his face back to level him with your stare. “I love you,” you answer, conviction heavy in your voice as you brush your nose against his “always.” Jason’s breath hitches in his chest, because nothing on this earth could have ever prepared him for the peace, the utter tranquility that loving you and being loved by you has brought him. Despite the lump in his throat, the tears misting his gaze, he echoes “always,” right back to you, kissing you tenderly until you’re both dizzy, until the world around you fades once again, until all that’s left is you and him. Just the way you like it.
655 notes · View notes
leclerckiss · 5 months ago
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cinnamon girl ౨ৎ (part i)
notes: charles leclerc x singer!reader, smau, secret relationship, launching, engagement. requested, fc: madison beer.
part ii: here.
a/n: my first smau on this blog, not so sure about it but i had fun making it <3
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liked by honeymoon, franciscagomes and 555,116 others
yourusername: “there’s things i wanna say to you, but i’ll just let you live.” cinnamon girl is out now. i had so so much fun producing this song, love from me to you all <3
6,325 comments
user1: will be listening to this song on repeat for the rest of the year now
user2: literally obsessed 🫶🏼
friendusername: you deserve the world
yourusername: i <3 you
user3: can’t wait for your lover era one day, the songs will be lushhh
user4: girl, y/n already produces perfect music & lyricism without a man in her life, she’s doing just fine on her own
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3,698 likes
newsofy/n: in a recent interview following the release of her new single ‘cinnamon girl’, y/n said “I am always inspired by those around me […] the support of my friends, family are the foundations of my work, every lyric and song is so personal to me – from experiences or those so dear to my heart…”
913 comments
user1: she is such a sweetheart, we must protect her.
user2: did anybody else notice that smile when the interviewer asked if she has any romantic ‘muses’ or inspiration?
user3: you’re taking it out of context, i’m pretty certain y/n is still as single as all of us </3
user2: ouch true, but you never know
user4: oh to be the muse of one of yourusername’s songs
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liked by friendusername and 7,171 others
f1gossip: the monaco grand prix annually attracts all kinds of faces from the glitz & glamour, this year including the music industry’s sweetheart yourusername who had claimed she wanted to “return” to the place she has always adored, in person.
1,311 comments
user1: I wonder who she’s supporting 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
user2: probably charles leclerc, like every single girl who breathes.
user1: be quiet, I wouldn’t blame her anyway
user3: she looks like an angelll, paddock princess here she comes
user4: omg, didn’t she mention once in an interview that her father’s a lover of f1 too?
user5: I think I saw some old pics of her when she was like five with him at the belgian grand prix
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user1: my two favourite people ever have MET EACH OTHER? crying inside currently
user2: they would make the most iconic couple
user3: girl bffr, they have just met
user2: let me be delulu, okay?
user4: no he has heart eyes
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liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 591,132 others
yourusername: monaco, you were a blessing this weekend and i can’t wait to see you again soon, je t’aime <3
5,139 comments
user1: please, please, please come next year too, the paddock needs your fashion sense
user2: not charles lurking in the likes haha
user3: she’s got him interesteddd
user4: y/n and f1 was honestly the collab i never knew that i needed
user5: soon? what other business do you have in monaco?
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liked by friendusername and 5,396 others
f1gossip: in a recent interview, when asked, charles leclerc revealed that he has listened to yourusername’s recent single ‘cinnamon girl’: “i’ve heard it a few times on the radio or shuffle, i think whoever is on the receiving end of her love songs now or in the future will be a lucky man, for sure.”
1,111 comments
user1: he’s definitely in love
user2: they’ve literally met once
user1: okay? i’ve never met him and i’m in love with him. anyway, we don’t know what they do away from the cameras and stuff
user3: he knows something we don’t.
user4: y/n’s friends are alwaysss on the gossip and i love it, they probably tell her all about it lol
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liked by friendusername, pierregasly and 539,333 others
yourusername: from a secret admirer xoxo
5,692 comments
franciscagomes: finally?
yourusername: don’t pretend this is the first time
user1: y/n what does this meannnn?
user2: do you finally have some chance in your love life?
user3: that sounds so backhanded help
user4: whoever they are, i hope they treat you well y/n <3 our angel
౨ৎ
part ii: here.
1K notes · View notes
palestinianmenna0 · 1 month ago
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🚨🚨🚨 You can save a life! Act now‼️‼️🍉🍉🍉🍉🍉
My name is Mena, I'm 19 years old from Gaza. On October 7th, we woke up to the sounds of rockets, bombing, and destruction. By October 10th, we were forced to leave our home with nothing—(no clothes, no belongings, nothing)—because our area became a dangerous war zone. A week later, we received the devastating news that our home had been completely destroyed😔😔💔💔💔.We are now displaced, with no place to call home. We have been forced to move 10 times over the past eleven months of this genocidal war. We currently live in a place barely suitable for three people, while our family of eight struggles to fit. My aunt and her one-year-old daughter were killed by the occupation. My grandfather died due to the lack of medication and the closure of hospitals because of insufficient resources. He was a heart patient who needed regular treatment, but it was cut off due to the blockade and lack of medical supplies.I was in my first week of university, finally enrolling in my dream college (medical school) after achieving one of the highest grades in my city (98.6% in the scientific branch). Now, I lost this academic year, and it seems the second year will be lost as well, with no way to change this dire situation. My elder sister, (Salwa), was supposed to be in her third year of university. She was the top of her class and aspired to participate in student exchange programs and pursue a master's degree. Now, her university is destroyed, and she is unable to do anything. My younger sister, (Abeer), was supposed to be in her final year of school, excelling academically and aiming for a high grade. Unfortunately, her school was destroyed, and she cannot continue her education. My younger siblings, Adel (13), Jana (12), and Ammar (8), also cannot continue their education. They are in crucial stages for their development and future, but everything has been shattered.Basic necessities are almost nonexistent in Gaza: cleaning supplies are scarce, feminine hygiene products are nearly impossible to find and extremely expensive, and essentials like (shampoo, soap, and laundry detergent) are either unavailable or exorbitantly priced. Diseases are spreading alarmingly, particularly skin diseases and, more recently, polio. We are terrified of infection as the health situation deteriorates severely💔💔.We urgently need a safe, healthy, and fear-free life for me, my siblings, and my family. Please help us by donating through the link and sharing our campaign 🙏🏻🙏🏻❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹
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@appsa @brutaliakhoa @turian @malcriada @neptunerings @thetownwecallhome
@timetravellingkitty @tiredguyswag @brokenbackmountain @imjustheretotrytohelp @sylvianritual
@magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @aces-and-angels @marnota @cenobutch @transmutationisms
@schoolhater @three-croissants @briarhips @kellkyy
@appsa @90-ghost @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @nabulsi @sar-soor @sayruq @queerstudiesnatural @appsa @communistchilchuck @fairuzfan @neptunerings @just-browsing1222 @appsa @akajustmerry @feluka @marnota @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies
@gaza-evacuation-funds @nabulsi @irhabiya @bilal-salaho
@appsa @malcriada @gryficowa
@postanagramgenerator @bilal-salaho @son-of-gaza @somospoesia @buttercuparry @beserkerjewel @neptunerings @ot3 @schoolhater @officialspec @dormimi-zzz @violetellipse @good-old-gossip @apollo @prinnay @brutaliakhoa @prokopetz @turian
@heritageposts @magnus-rhymes-with
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@mangocheeseships
@communistchinaaesthetic
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@transmutationisms @kitty @khanger @pomodoko @shakira @determinate -negation @a-shade-of-blue @therealmsdarling @opencommunion
@kaereth
@90-ghost @irhabiya @appsa @gaza-life-goes-on-blog @sar-soor @nabilhellis @marxism-leninism-utenaism @rebeccamock @el-shango-drew-and-shot @el-secreto-que-guardo @plomegranate
@gaza-evacuation-funds
263 notes · View notes
maryamsfamily · 18 days ago
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Ahmed's sister gave birth to a baby boy. Ahmed's sister, her husband is traveling, and she is alone. She lives with her mother, sisters, and my husband, Ahmed. I was born under the sounds of planes, beatings and bombings. The cries and groans of birth. She was crying and we did not know what to do. She was suffering from shortness of breath. “I feel like I'm dying,” she would say. We were all crying and burning and trying to console her and tell her that you and the baby are fine and that you will give birth. After the ambulance arrived, the birth took place safely, thanks to God and His generosity.”🙏
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Please know that this baby is a newborn and needs milk, diapers and many supplies. I ask you to stand with us, intensify your assistance, and share my campaign with all generous donors who are able to support us and cover the cost of our supplies. Your donation gives us hope in life and saves the lives of innocent children.🙏
@brutaliakhoa @buttercuparry @bloglikeanegyptian @visoremi @olovelymoon-read-pinned-post @pinkhit-s @purple-splattered-soul @plomegranate @papasmoke @one-time-i-dreamt @operationladybug @undertastic-dork @imjustheretotrytohelp @isa-ah @yesterdaysprint @tamarrud @themazziah @themazziah @resourcesmasterposts @raccoon-in-a-hoodie @rooh-afza @ezrazone @emathyst9 @wellwaterhysteria @wolfythewitch @queerdocumentary-blog @quecksilvereyes @a-shade-of-blue @anneemay @angelslough @averagenotnormal @sayruq @sleevesareforlosers @sinnamontrash @dykesbat @determinate-negation @dormimi-zzz @fuckyeahanarchistposters @gerbildine @generallyjl @girlinafairytale @good-old-gossip @heydreamchild @jezior0 @kordeliiius @kordeliiius @khanger @komsomolka @lesbianmaxevans @heritageposts
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1-800-kami · 1 year ago
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R U MINE? feat gojo satoru (II)
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gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 
that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…
“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”
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IMPORTANT: this is part TWO (and the final part) of the r u mine? mini series. make sure to read part one of this fic before proceeding! :)
content: 5.4k words, afab!reader, rich college frat boy gojo, SMUT (fingering & unprotected sex.. wrap it before u tap it kids!) ANGST, (i listened to deftones while writing the breakup era LMAOO i was in my feels 😔) gojo "everything reminds me of her" satoru is really going thru it, idk how to feel about the ending tbh, cheating implications, kinda proofread ig, more emo gojo (u luv to see it)
author's note: guys. where do i even start?? first of all, thank u for all the support on the first part of this mini series!! we also hit 100 followers on this blog so tysm for supporting me n my writing <3 here's the long awaited part two (n also the finale) as i promised that i would get it out over the weekend! just a quick announcement that i may be a little bit more inactive from here on out.. mainly because classes r starting again nd im starting to get busier. i do have more fic plans though, (and a geto smut in my drafts? 👀) so i'll make time to write when i can! happy reading and thank u for all the support on this silly little series :)
tags: @soley613 @feariteriu @bear-likes-mushrooms @96jnie @keilaq1 @whydohumansss @luftyluft @fatbootymuncher (bold = i'm unable to tag u)
reblog and interact for a kiss ;)
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everything’s been hazy.
you don’t really remember how you got home– you either waved down a cab or walked until you somehow found your house. either way, the alcohol is worsening the pounding in your ears. the straps of your dress are clinging terribly against your skin–you want to take it off, you want to wear something more comfortable, you want to just go to sleep, preferably forever… but you can’t bring yourself to.
you can’t even bring yourself to move.
so the rumors really were true? but why did gojo pursue so far just for you? why did gojo say those words to you when you spent the night together? why did gojo try so hard to convince you that night that he wanted to have sex with you because he loved you–and not solely because he wanted to have sex?
why did gojo lie to you?
another series of pings sound throughout the room, and you finally move to silence your phone. the noise is all so overwhelming. why the hell is your phone blowing up?
you check your notifications–mostly dms from people you don’t know, either asking if you and satoru were dating, or questioning you about what the hell happened at the party. you know that you’re gonna be the subject of gossip once you’re back at campus, and you hate it.
you were surprised at the numbers once you scrolled down your notification list a little further. ten missed calls from satoru, accompanied by a series of fifteen panicked messages. you open it, and you stare sadly at his contact photo and name, remembering the fond memory behind it. once you two actually started dating, you were merciful enough to add a heart next to his name, and even updated it to “toru”. he was elated at that.
you think you can barely even call him gojo now.
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the most recent message was barely sent a minute ago. like it was on cue, you see the bright headlights pull up outside of your door. you wanted to sink into your couch and never resurface ever again.
you hear suguru’s car door open and close, and then frantic knocking outside. you walk to the door while sniffling, looking through the peephole just to confirm your suspicions. it was satoru.
“i can hear you crying through the door, y/n. i know you’re there.” he takes a deep inhale, and the tears start rolling down your cheeks again once you hear the complete and utter vulnerability in his voice. you just don’t know what to believe anymore. “shit, i’m crying too. well, i’m gonna explain myself even if you don’t care enough to listen to me. uhm, believe it or not, what happened at the party wasn’t my doing… at all. when you went to use the bathroom, this girl went up to me and started flirting with me, like she was waiting for you to leave or somethin’. i was g’na tell her to go fuck off but she pushed herself on my lap and before i could do anything about it you walked in and it was just all horrible timing and- god. i know it sounds unbelievable, right? you must think i’m terrible right now.”
“you don’t have to believe me. if i were in your shoes i wouldn’t know what to think either. i’m just… explaining what happened.”
there’s a long period of silence between you and satoru, aside from the occasional sniffling on both ends. you don’t know what to say. you want to believe him. you want to do nothing more than to open the door and let him hold you in his arms again, but you just don’t know what to think anymore. you poured your entire heart out to a man who you knew you shouldn’t be messing with, and now you don’t know who or what to believe. you feel like a fool, and you’re just tired. so damn tired. the silence feels asphyxiating, like it's tearing your relationship with satoru further and further apart the longer it draws on.
satoru is the first one to break the silence. “i’m guessing from the silent treatment that you don’t believe me. it’s okay, y/n. i’ll wait an eternity for you to forgive me because i’ll always choose you- fuck… over anything, and i hope you know that.”
your mind is a mess, and satoru’s words make it even messier.
i’ll wait an eternity for you
i’ll always choose you over anything
you put your head in your hands and sob. it hurts.
a minute passes–gojo hears you get up from where you’re sitting behind the door, and his heart fills with hope.
“i just… i just don’t know how to believe you, gojo.”
his heart breaks when he hears the door–presumably to your bedroom–open and close, leaving him alone with his shattered heart. his heart breaks when he takes in your voice, noticing how weak and exhausted you sounded. he wonders how much you’ve cried just from this past hour alone. his heart breaks once he realizes that he’s alone with his thoughts again, alone with the voice in his head that was berating him for not being able to prevent all of this if he hadn’t frozen up and just pushed her away the second that girl started flirting with him. finally, his heart breaks once it registers that you called him gojo–the last name that he shares with his corrupt and money-crazy family… the family he tries so hard to get away from. it was also the name you called him during the days that you barely trusted him.
now, he’s back to square one, and he has none of your trust again. this time, satoru swears that he’ll do anything in his power to get it back once more.
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you didn’t come to school today.
there’s been nothing but radio silence on your end. gojo has sent you countless messages over the weekend asking how you’ve been, with the occasional desperate voicemail where he tells you that he loves and misses you. you’ve turned off your read receipts, so gojo doesn’t even know if you’ve seen his texts or listened to his voicemails. he’s concerned for you, even though he knows that he’s the reason behind all of this. he was hoping to talk things out with you today.. but you weren’t even here.
one thing gojo knew about you is that you cared deeply about your academics, and you wouldn’t miss attendance even if you were sick. it pains him to know that he was the reason that you weren’t here today. you were avoiding him, and he felt helpless.
he’s talked to geto—and the best advice that his best friend could offer was to “find proof that you didn’t cheat on her.” he’s right, though. the last thing you had said to gojo was that you don’t know how to believe if he’s telling the truth or not. gojo has absolutely no idea how to prove his fidelity to you, since words clearly weren’t enough. it frustrates him to no end.
gojo now knows that he feels absolutely lost. all when he’s not with you.
it feels nerve-wracking to walk the halls. 
he remembers telling you the night that you slept together that he’d learned over time to drown out the rumors about him. he learned not to care about what other people thought about him, and he eventually became unaffected by the school’s gossip. 
however, this time was different.
this time, he finds it difficult to drown out the rumors when he hears your name in them. he flinches every time someone whispers your name and his as he walks the halls, feeling that all eyes are on him. “i heard y/n and gojo broke up…” “they were dating?!” “yeah.. i didn’t believe it at first, either! apparently he…”
he doesn’t want to hear it, so he walks a little faster. it hasn’t felt this suffocating to be on campus in a while.
maybe that’s partially why you didn’t show up. rumors are hard to ignore if you don’t know how to shun them out. 
gojo lets out a sigh. he decides that he’s going to ditch the rest of class. you weren’t here, he couldn’t talk to you, and he felt he was gonna go mad if he heard your name spoken by someone again, so he turns to leave, but flinches as he feels a hand lightly tap his shoulder.
“gojo-san?”
he turns around, with a girl that he’s never seen before standing in front of him… not that he pays attention to them in the first place, though. he raises his eyebrow in question, and the girl looks so nervous she might pass out. “i have to tell you something-“
“if it’s a love confession or whatever, i don’t want to hear it-“
“-no!” she flushes a deep shade of red, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes. she coughs awkwardly at his expression. “um, no.. it’s not that. please, just give me two minutes in the library. i have something to tell you.”
he decides to entertain this girl for a bit. he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t curious about what she had to talk to him for. gojo sighs and says, “two minutes. that’s all you’re getting.”
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“this is about the party last friday, no?” he says while taking a seat near one of the tables. he feels sick just being here. he’d never gone to the library before meeting you–as he had no reason to go here at all. then, he started accompanying you everywhere as he tried to win your heart. “study dates” were frequent here, and he even remembers forcefully changing his contact name and number on your phone during one of your dates.
gosh, everything literally reminds him of you. he can barely live like this.
she takes a seat across from him, and she shamefully nods at his words. “i went to the party on friday, and i just want to say i’m sorry-”
gojo gets up to leave. he can’t do this. he doesn’t need anyone’s pity. pity can’t change the fact that you still won’t talk to him. she panics as gojo is about to walk away. “wait!”
the librarian tells her to quiet down, and she mutters an apology. still, she persists. “please, just wait for two minutes… i need two minutes to explain myself. you promised you’d give me that.”
she stares at gojo, who hasn’t left yet, and takes that as her opportunity to speak. “i was a friend of… her,” he doesn’t need an explanation to know who she was talking about. “the reason why she came up to you was because of a dare i told her to do. she’s had a crush on you for a while now, so of course she was willing to flirt with you.”
“um, that was the dare, by the way. my friend told me to record it, because we were all drunk, and we thought it would be funny. just another memory to laugh at in the future, right? we didn’t know you were dating the girl you were with at the party. sorry but, we assumed she was just a fling… or something… we didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“yeah, i was dating the girl at the party.” gojo scoffs, and he feels his anger bubbling up again. “then your friend had to do that stupid dare, and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.”
“i’m sorry-”
“i don’t need your apologies. is that why you came up to me? to apologize so you don’t feel guilty about what happened anymore?” gojo sneers. he was right, though. guilt is ridden all over her face, and she can’t even meet his eyes. he’s about to leave, thinking that this entire conversation was useless, but gojo thinks back on what she said earlier.
“...my friend told me to record it…”
he turns back to look at her, which surprises her, to say the least. “hey, you said you recorded the dare, right?”
“uhm, yes.”
“so you still have the video?”
“it should be in my camera roll somewhere-”
“if you came here to apologize to me, then you should send me that video.” she looked a little horrified at his words, and gojo could almost laugh. “what? i’m not gonna do anything bad with it, god.”
she thinks about what gojo’s intentions could be with that video, and her eyes light up in recognition as she connects the dots from what he said beforehand. i was dating the girl at the party… then your friend had to do that stupid dare… and she won’t fuckin’ talk to me now.
she nods in understanding. this is the least she could do for him. she pulls out her phone, looking for the video, and says, “i hope you two make up soon, gojo-san.”
gojo satoru walks- no, runs out of that library with determination. determination as he finally has the video evidence of what happened at the party–his saving grace so he could finally get you to forgive him.
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you miss him.
you miss him like hell, actually, and you blink at the messages he just sent you in complete disbelief.
you didn’t show up to class today because you were afraid. you were afraid to see satoru again, yes, but you were also afraid of what everyone else would say about you. the party was one thing, but the after-effects and the rumors were something completely different. you didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with that, unlike satoru, so you stayed home. all because you were afraid of what would happen on campus.
you just wish things would go back to how they were before… all of this happened. you didn’t want to admit it, but you’ve read all of satoru’s messages, and you’ve listened to all of his voicemails. you’ve cried to them. and it hurts because you’re still torn apart in the midst of your own feelings. and now, satoru wants to talk to you, because he’s been wanting to do nothing but fix everything between the two of you.
the doorbell rings, and you almost jump out of your skin. 
you didn’t even know if you would open the door or not. despite that, you felt your body moving on its own, like you were relying on your own instincts. you washed your face to get rid of the dried tears on your cheeks, brushed the tangles out of your hair, and dressed into something more presentable. the next thing you know, you’re leaning against the wall next to the front entrance. your shadow is visible underneath the door, so satoru knows that you’re here.
“hi, y/n..” he sounded so nervous that you almost laughed, but you felt equally as terrified as him. “i have something to show you… uh, on my phone. if you don’t want to see me, it’s fine, i’ll just send it to you, but i’d really prefer if you open the door and we’ll talk about this inside-”
your hand is already reaching the door knob before you can even think about it. it’s such an impulse decision that you look at him in surprise once you open the door. it’s the first time you’ve seen him ever since you were at the party. it’s only been three days, but you can’t help but notice how his eyebags are more prominent, his eyes are a little redder, and he looks nothing short of exhausted.
“hey,” he manages to breathe out, his eyes meeting yours. “can i come in? please?”
you nod, too stunned to say anything, and he exhales in relief as he walks in. the two of you sit on the couch, and gojo notices how you’re keeping your distance from him. it breaks his heart a little.
he looks for the video on his phone and gets ready to show it to you. this is it. his last ditch effort for your forgiveness. he’s really fuckin’ hoping that this works. “i got this video from a girl who came to the party. it’s a recording of, um, what happened.”
he hands the phone over to you, and you take it skeptically, still choosing to keep silent. you press play, and you watch the recording. a shaky hand holds the camera, and the person behind it says, “holy shit, she’s actually doing it!” they're presumably talking to their friend, and the camera focuses on a girl walking over to gojo. your heart is pounding, eyes widening in recognition as you stare at her... the one who caused all of this in the first place.
the all too familiar girl comes up to him, saying something out of earshot. when gojo looks at her, completely uninterested, she pulls that move. the scene you saw at the party before you ran out. tears fill your eyes again, and you almost want to stop the video, but your interest is piqued at the next part.
..this… this part was something that you didn’t see. gojo angrily reacts at the girl’s move, with her falling on the floor as she looks at him, stunned at how furious he looks. the person behind the camera gasps, continuing to record out of shock as a crowd of people turn to stare at the two. geto eventually comes into the frame and takes gojo away from all the chaos. the video ends there, and you grip gojo’s phone shakily.
holy shit.
tears roll down your face, but this time, they’re tears of relief. you waste no time in hugging satoru, crying your heart out as you bury your face in his neck. you’re happy. you’re so fucking happy, and so relieved knowing that he didn’t lie to you. of course he didn’t.
“m’sorry-” you sniffle into his shoulder. gojo is so shocked at what was happening that it takes him a second to hug you back, but when he does, he starts crying. “m’so fucking sorry i didn’t believe you-”
“shh, it’s okay, it’s okay…” he says, and you only hug him tighter. “m’so tired, you know that? these past three days fucking sucked. i’m just so glad you’re in my arms again, fuck-”
“-i love you, i love you, i love you so fucking much, toru.” you repeat, laughing as you kiss him all over his face. it’s been a while since you said that to someone. you wipe his never-ending tears away, still in disbelief, and whisper, “you’re real. right? you’re actually here with me right now ‘nd i’m not dreaming, right?
“i’m very much real, baby.” he says, putting his forehead against yours as you take in his features again. “god, i missed that pretty face so much.”
he finally closes the gap between you two, pulling you into a much needed kiss. it’s a kiss filled with so many emotions–desperation, happiness, relief. satoru thinks his heart is finally whole again. he’s missed you. he’s missed you so fucking much, and you’ve missed him too. 
you’re like an anchor to satoru. the light of his life that keeps him grounded. and god, he’s been apart from you for too long. 
you reposition yourself as you’re deepening the kiss. you’re on his lap now, and you wrap your arms around his neck, tugging on his hair in desperation. “oh yeah? ‘y gonna do anything about it?"
“of course i am,” he says, hands roaming underneath your shirt as he caresses your bare waist. fuck. he needs you. right now. especially after thinking that he was about to lose you forever–for something that he didn’t even do. “i’m gonna show you just how much i missed you, baby.”
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gojo can’t let you go.
you’re in your bedroom, and both of you waste no time undressing each other. he takes you in–all of you, in awe of every crevice of your body as he trails his hands further down your waist.
god, you’re so beautiful. “i can’t believe i almost lost you.”
his words are shaky, like he’s still uncertain that you’re real and you’re in his arms again. he can’t seem to break himself away from you, almost like you’ll disappear if he lets you go. “but i’m here now, toru.”
“i’m here to stay, and i’ll never let you go again… ‘m yours,” you whisper, and your words set a fire in him, fueling his body with nothing but desperation. desperation to have you right here, and right now. 
he wastes no time in plunging two of his fingers in your cunt, and he groans at just how wet you are. “satoru-”
“fuck, you’re so wet… and it’s all for me,” he mutters, spreading your legs effortlessly when you try to close them, thighs shaking in pure pleasure. he adds another finger, and you already feel stretched to the brim, and you haven’t even taken him in yet. the thought of his cock inside of you makes you even wetter than you already are, and you look up at satoru with eyes full of lust and desire. “missed you so much, baby. missed you and your pretty little cunny,”
his fingers are long, and you whine at how full you feel right now. you’re so loud, and you don’t even care. right now, it’s just you and satoru finally feeling each other again. it’s only been three days, but it feels like you’ve been apart for years.
everything about this was filthy. from your erotic moans and the way your cunt squelched against his fingers… not to mention the vice grip you had on them- fuck, satoru thinks he can cum untouched just from watching you like this.
“haa-” you whimper when his fingers curl and hit that spot in your cunt that you can barely seem to reach on your own. it’s exhilarating, and only fuels the growing heat in your stomach. “toru- don’t stop- please, i’m close-”
“really?” he taunts, and it feels so fucking good–your head is numb, and the only thoughts filling your head are thoughts of satoru. the pleasure is too much, and you try to get away from him, but he keeps you in place, curling his fingers faster as punishment. “don’t run away from me, baby… be a good girl and just take it, yeah?”
“toru- fuck- i’m gonna cum, please-” you’re on the brink of release, but suddenly, he stops, ruining your orgasm. “no- wait-”
he pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss of stimulation. you were so close–why did he take that away from you? you try and swat at his hands, but he just takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth, locking his eyes with yours with a sly smile. “you taste so sweet, i can’t help it,”
“aww, is my baby mad ‘cause she didn’t get to cum?” he coos sarcastically, caging you in between his arms as he tilts your face up with his finger. “too bad… the only thing you’re cumming on tonight is on my cock.”
and with that, he eases his painfully hard member into your walls. your insides hugged him perfectly–it was like you were made just for him. you gasp once he’s fully sheathed himself inside of you. his fingers were already a lot to take in, but his cock was something completely different. he moans your name, barely keeping his cool. “fuck- you’re squeezing me so tight,”
“missed everything about you, baby. i need to hold you, please,” he pleads desperately, clasping your small hands against his. the size difference alone between the two of you almost makes him cum, but he holds himself back, choosing to bask in this intimate moment. he’s missed every part about this. “you ready f’me?-”
“-just fuck me, satoru, please-” he doesn’t need another confirmation from you.
he can’t bring himself to hold back. next thing you know, he’s fucking you into the mattress, and you feel the headboard shake at how fast satoru is going. fuck–you feel every part of him, every part of his cock as it slams against your tight hole. he’s so big, you feel yourself gasping for breath, and you moan out loud as you notice the prominent bulge forming in your stomach. it’s him, it’s all him, and it’s driving you mad.
satoru follows your eyes in the midst of all of this, and he watches everything in fascination. he decides to be a little mean, and presses his free hand against your stomach–it feels so good, you could almost scream at the pleasure. “you feel that, baby? that’s all me inside of you, hmm?”
“please-” the onset of pleasure feels so overwhelming, and tears fill your eyes. you feel an oncoming orgasm coming, and you know your release will hit you like a tidal wave. your heart is pounding, but satoru only grips your hand tighter and fucks you even harder. “oh, fuck!”
“m close, baby. are you g’na cum too?” he manages to say between pants, and you somehow nod, mind hazy and your release only coming closer. you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “cum inside of me, toru- please- i need to feel you-”
gojo groans at your words, and you both cum together. you ride out your high, screaming as you spasm around his cock, the pleasure overfilling your senses until you’re trembling from it. he fills you up, staying inside of you as the two of you catch your breath. everything’s hazy, and you’re barely aware of your surroundings… it takes you a few minutes to recover. 
“angel, are you with me?”
“yeah, fuck, just… give me a second.” you say, and gojo thinks that he would gladly give you all the time in the world if you needed it. he pulls out of you with a hiss, and his warm seed drips out of your cunny. it makes his cock twitch, but he knows that you���re probably not considering a round two right now.
when you come to your senses, you notice satoru–who put his clothes back on already, wiping your legs down with a rag. his touch is so soft, like he’s afraid to break you, unlike how he handled you just a moment ago. you look down and notice the bruises starting to form on your legs and waist. satoru looks guilty as he stares. “i didn’t go too rough with you, did i?”
“not at all,” you reassure him, and you see him soften up a little. “it felt really good, actually… thank you, toru.”
“s nothing. you know my girl only gets the best,” he teases, and you laugh. “i’m gonna go get you some new clothes and some water… i’ll be back, okay?”
you nod, closing your eyes again as satoru leaves the room. he’s back in two minutes, and he’s gently changing you into new clothes that he found in your drawer. you’re so tired that you can hardly move, so you let satoru do all the work. he caresses all of your bruises, apologizing again even if you already said that it was okay. he’s so gentle, a swift juxtaposition to what just happened beforehand, and so soft with you. once you’re clothed again, he brings a glass of water against your lips, and you greedily gulp it down as he keeps a hand on your back. he places it on the nightstand once you’re finished, and you grab his wrist after, tugging him back to the bed. “lay with me for a bit, toru.”
satoru doesn’t hesitate, laying down next to you on the bed and placing your head against his chest. your breathing is back to normal, and you feel his heart thumping against your ear. you wrap your arms around him, and satoru thinks that this moment is so domestic that he can’t help but daydream. he looks at your face, memorizing every feature about you with a lovesick look in his eyes. you’re so beautiful, so perfect, and he’s just so fucking glad that he didn’t lose you. 
satoru thinks he could wake up to this everyday.
“you’re starin.” you say with an amused look on your face. gojo doesn’t even try to play it off. “what’s on your mind?”
“nothing. i just… love you so much, y/n.” he says, pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. satoru would trade anything if it meant that this moment wouldn’t end. “m so glad you chose me.”
“i think it’s the other way around,” you tease. “you chose me. ever since you saw me at the party, you’ve done nothing but try to win my heart.”
“how could i not? there was just something different about you compared to everyone else.” he reminisces about that night at the party, and how far he’s come with his relationship with you. he remembers that night like it just happened yesterday.
you sigh, almost like you were thinking about that night too. you pull him into a kiss, finally finding the courage within you to say a proper “i love you.” to the man who meant the world to you.
“i love you too, angel.” he says, and you snuggle into him tighter. “you know i’ll always choose you…”
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“..from this life and into the next. i’m so glad you gave me a chance, y/n. i’ll forever be grateful to now be called your husband. i’m the luckiest man ever knowing that you let me into your life, and i’m the one who gets to read these vows to marry you. i cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you. i love you so much, y/n gojo.” he’s crying. gojo satoru is crying, and he’s hardly ever cried before. though, that changed after he met you.
the last time he cried was during pre-k, and now he’s done it time and time again… all because of you. he cried once during your first argument with him, another during the night he thought he’d lost you forever, and then another when he finally had you in his arms again once he proved his innocence… and now, during his wedding, when he finally gets to call you his wife.
and when you share your kiss at the end of the ceremony to symbolize your togetherness, you hear all your friends cheering. mainly shoko, utahime, and geto. if you showed this very scene to shoko during your university years, she’d call you crazy, saying this would never happen. gojo satoru was once a man who’d never willingly committed in a relationship before, but you came into his life and you changed everything about him. it was like magic.
you pull away from the kiss, wiping his tears away and whispering against his lips, drowning out the crowd, “thank you.”
for memorizing all my favorite foods so you could buy them for me. for walking me to class every day. for making me fall in love with you that one day at the park. for waiting for me to slowly love you even when i was scared to love. for waiting for me even if i didn’t trust you. for loving me. for proving those rumors wrong. for proving that satoru gojo is actually capable of falling in love and pouring his heart out to the one he loves the most.
for everything that you have done to love me.
it was like gojo could hear all of your unspoken words. he smiles, letting one more tear roll down his cheek, and says, “it’s all worth it if it’s for you.”
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thanks for reading <3 -kami.
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kpop---scenarios · 3 months ago
Text
Mine Now
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Pairing: Changbin x Reader
Warning: Smutty smut smut [18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]
Word Count: 1k
A/N: Happy early birthday, Binnie! ♡
Everything Taglist: @piscesrising01 @baby-stay92 @kisses-too-the-moon @dwaekkiiracha @rylea08 @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @satosugu4l @iovecb97 @lordmaahes-nsc @sailorkoss @minh0scat @pixie0627 @50-husbands @jinnies-muse @yaorzu-blog @joyofbebbanburg @number1jeonginstan @skzooluvr @jisunglyricist @ambersnowxxx
@wife2straykids @silly250 @tsunderelino @1810cl @anskiiz
@ayyonoona @31maze13
“Changbin?” You murmur as you open the front door to his apartment. You assumed he'd likely be asleep as it was 2am but you were drunk and you needed to tell him the gossip of what happened tonight before you forgot about it. “Are you sleeeeeping?” You harshly whisper.
The lights in his kitchen were still on, the TV in the living room was still playing a show. You walked further inside, standing at the start of the hallway listening for any sounds of movement, and that's when you heard it. The muffled sounds of breaths coming from his spare bedroom. You shuffle your feet down the hallway, grabbing the doorknob, pushing the door wide open.
Your mouth gapes open as you watch a shirtless, sweaty Changbin standing in front of the large mirror lifting weights. You and Changbin had been extremely close friends for years, and there were multiple times that you wanted to rip his clothes off and wrap your mouth around his cock, or ride him until you couldn't move anymore, but you didn't know if his feelings towards you were strictly platonic or not, and you'd never been brave enough to ask him.
“Oh shit.” He laughs, putting the weight down. “How long have you been standing there?” He asks, taking his headphones off his ears.
“Not long enough.” You mutter, staring at his impeccable body.
“What?” He chuckles, grabbing a towel, wiping his face.
“Don't.” You whisper.
“Don't? Don't what?” He asks.
“Don't wipe your sweat.” You say, you can't take your eyes off of him.
“What's going on?” He asks. “Are you okay?”
“I'm all good.” You grin, finally looking him in the eyes. “You're really hot, you know?”
“Am I? Or are you drunk?”
“I am yes, but that doesn't change the fact that you're super fucking hot.” You whisper.
He smiles at you as he walks closer to you. You move away from the doorway, pressing your back against the wall. Changbin stands close to you, so close you could run your hands down his stomach to feel all the muscles and sweat.
“What are you doing here?” He asks.
“I had gossip for you… but I can't remember now.” You admit, looking up at him.
“You should sleep off the alcohol.” He says, going to turn away. You grab his wrist, turning him back towards you.
“If I do that I'll lose my nerve.”
“For what?” He asks.
“This.” You whisper, pressing your lips against his, only for a second before you pull back, leaning against the wall again.
“Y/N.” He sighs. “You're drunk.”
“I'm sober enough to know I want this. I want you.”
He stares at you for a moment, stretching his arm out, hand on the wall as he leans in closer to you.
“What do you want me to do?” He asks.
“I want you to fuck me.”
He smiles widely as he leans back in, pushing his body against yours as his lips attach to yours. His hand rests on your cheek as he slides his tongue into your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck while he grips your thighs, pulling you up to wrap your legs around his waist. Your skirt rides up as his hands move from your thighs to your ass, He feels around, groaning when he realizes you just have a thong on underneath. He pulls away from the kiss to look at you.
“You're sure?” He asks.
“Fuck me, Binnie.” You smile.
He moves his hands down to his shorts, pulling them down, letting his already hard cock spring free. He reaches between the two of you, the tips of his fingers grazing your already sopping cunt as he moves your panties to the side. He watches you as he slowly inserts two fingers inside you. Watching your eyes roll back into your head, while he slowly pumps them in and out of you a few times, before he takes them out, placing them in his mouth, sucking your juices from them.
“Delicious.” He whispers, lining himself up with you before he harshly thrusts his cock inside you.
“Fuck.” You scream out, his cock stretches out your pussy, leaving you feeling so full. Your nails dig into his back as he slowly thrusts in and out of you, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, muffling your gasps and moans.
“You're so fucking tight.” He grunts, pushing him deeper inside you with each thrust. He was taking his time with you, really feeling you clench around him each time he pushed himself into you, listening to you gasp and moan with each one.
“P-please…” You moan. “Faster.”
Changbin pulls his cock out slightly before ramming it back inside you, now picking up his pace, fucking you harder, faster and deeper as you drag your nails up and down his back. You can feel your orgasm building quicker with each thrust, your clit being rubbed in the right way while he fucks you against the wall.
“God damn, baby.” He groans, relishing in the feeling of your body bouncing against his while he's inside you.
“Bin… I'm gonna…” You pant.
“What, baby?” He grunts. “You gonna cum on my cock? Go on, do it, cum all over my cock.”
“Holy fuck.” You cry out as your orgasm hits you full force, making your entire body stiffen up as you work through your high.
“Good girl.” He whispers in your ear, pounding into you. “I'm gonna cum in your cunt.”
“Do it… fill me up Bin.” You moan, holding onto him.
“Fuck!” He yells out, his orgasm hitting him, panting as he cums deep inside you.
He stands there for a moment, catching his breath before he pulls out of you, setting you back down on the floor.
“Wow.” You chuckle, your knees buckling as you try to catch yourself.
Changbin grabs onto you, squatting down before throwing you over his shoulder.
“What are you doing?” You chuckle.
“We're gonna go shower, and then you're gonna tell me the gossip, and tomorrow I'm going to take you on an all day date.” He laughs, taking you out of the room towards the bathroom.
“You're mine now. Any objections?”
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amirasainz · 1 month ago
Note
Hi!! I love your blog. You'd writing is always so amazing and beautiful. Could you maybe update your "sunshine behind the camera" story again. It is one of my favourite stories here on tummlr and you haven't updated it in a really long time.
I don't want to pressure you or be rude, I just really like the idea of it. Pretty please💖💖
All relationships are platonic!!!!
(This is a short chapter)
Part 1 Part 3
Testing
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The 2024 Formula 1 pre-season testing was a whirlwind of excitement as teams gathered to fine-tune their cars. Amid the hustle and bustle of the paddock, a fresh face drew the attention of the entire grid: Isabela Ferreira, McLaren’s new photographer. At just 18, Isabela was known for her extraordinary talent behind the camera, but her shyness made it difficult to connect with anyone outside her team. She stuck close to Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri, her primary subjects and now close friends.
“She’s incredible, isn’t she?” Charles remarked after seeing one of her shots.
Lando grinned. “You have no idea.”
“She’s pretty shy though, always with you two,” added Pierre. The group had seen Isabela lurking near the McLaren garage, camera in hand, her eyes wide but her interactions minimal.
Oscar chimed in, “Yeah, she’s shy, but once you get to know her, she’s awesome.”
☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️
The next morning, the drivers gathered in the paddock for a private conversation. Lando and Oscar felt it was time to share a little more about their new friend.
“She doesn’t talk about it much,” Lando began hesitantly, “but Isabela’s been through a lot. Her mom left when she was young, and her grandma basically raised her.”
“Yeah,” Oscar continued, “she’s kind of become part of our team, and honestly, we can’t imagine things without her. She’s more than just a photographer—she’s family.”
Lewis, always a voice of calm, nodded thoughtfully. “She’s lucky to have you two looking out for her. She’s clearly talented, but it sounds like she needs that sense of belonging.”
Max, who rarely let down his competitive edge, softened at the story. “That’s pretty heavy. No wonder she sticks to you guys.”
Charles smiled. “We’ll take care of her too.”
From that point on, the entire grid took it upon themselves to make Isabela feel welcome.
Charles and Pierre took the first step. They found her near the garage later that day, fiddling with her camera settings. “Hey, Isabela!” Pierre called out, causing her to look up, startled. “We were just talking about you.”
“About me?” she replied nervously, adjusting her camera strap.
“Yeah! You seem to know everything that happens, but we’re the ones with the gossip,” Charles added with a wink. “Want to hear what we’ve been hearing?”
Isabela blushed, unsure of how to react, but she smiled. “Sure, why not.”
Later, Carlos and Yuki joined in, making it their mission to introduce her to the best food stalls around the paddock. “No offense, but paddock food can be a bit boring if you don’t know where to look,” Carlos said, offering her a small plate of something delicious.
“Trust me,” Yuki added with a grin, “I know where to get the best stuff. Just follow me.”
Lewis, meanwhile, approached her quietly one afternoon. “If you ever need someone to talk to,” he said gently, “I’m around. It can be overwhelming here, but you’ve got friends now.”
Max, determined to see her laugh, often sneaked up on her with jokes and exaggerated impressions of the other drivers. One day, after a particularly bad joke, Isabela burst out laughing, and Max threw his arms up. “Finally!”
Even the notoriously serious Fernando found a way to connect with her. “So, I’ve seen this TikTok thing, but I don’t understand it. You’re young. Show me how to do it?”
Isabela giggled. “Are you serious?”
“Completely,” Alonso deadpanned. The two of them ended up creating a couple of videos together, which went viral.
George, always the gentleman, invited her for tea sessions between photo shoots. “You’ve got to slow down sometimes,” he said one afternoon. “Let’s have a chat over tea. It’s a tradition.”
Meanwhile, Alex, ever the animal lover, took every chance he had to show her pictures of his pets. “Here’s my dog, and my cat... oh, wait, this one’s my girlfriend’s favorite.”
Isabela found herself slowly opening up, feeling truly at home with the entire Formula 1 family. Each driver, in their own way, made an effort to welcome her into the fold. But none were happier about it than Lando and Oscar, who could see her slowly becoming more confident and comfortable in this new world.
☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️
One evening, as the sun set over the track, the three of them sat down on some empty tires, exhausted but happy. “You guys have no idea how much this means to me,” Isabela whispered.
“We do,” Oscar said, giving her a gentle nudge. “That’s why we wanted everyone to know how important you are.”
“Yeah,” Lando added with a smile. “You’re part of this team. Part of this family.”
Isabela smiled, her heart full for the first time in a long time. She had finally found her place in the world, behind the camera, but surrounded by people who truly cared for her.
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