#maybe if Terry asks nicely :

[starlooove]

How to explain my fave Robin is Matt McGinnis

[ariaste]

Apparently there was some lil drama in Good Omens fandom again about people being deeply nervous and scared of the end of Season 3, and I wrote this in the replies of one of the asks that Neil Gaiman answered, but I feel like it is deserving of being crossposted into its own post (in a slightly expanded form) so folks actually see it.

cmere, good omens fandom, we're having an intervention. a Come To Jesus talk, if you will.

First of all, I'm literally begging the fandom to:

learn what personal boundaries are, especially around parasocial relationships with strangers. (Suggestion: When sending asks to authors you like, use "polite work email" etiquette, not "joking with a friend" etiquette. The latter comes off REAL weird sometimes, and sometimes outright mean/rude/bullying).

take a couple deep fucking breaths

embrace the philosophy of The Author's Intent Only HAS To Matter To The Author, It Does Not Have To Matter To YOU. If you do not like the author's intent, you can say "hmmmm no thanks" and write some fanfic. That's what it's for.

Friends, Romans, countrymen..... Stop trying to make Neil Gaiman responsible for your happiness. For one thing, that is an absolutely unfair and cruel burden to put on a stranger who doesn't know you. Neil is only responsible for Neil's happiness. You're responsible for your own happiness. In fact, do not rely on ANY external source to guarantee your happiness, not even very nice people like Neil, not even your significant other, not even your family members. Yes, those people might be able to help you with your happiness, but they cannot guarantee it. Expecting a third party to guarantee your happiness is how corporations exploit you, and it is the source of all media trauma. Take agency over your own joy! Don't give away your power! Plan to DIY your personal ideal ending!

Neil is not telepathic, Neil cannot know all your hopes and dreams and wishes, nor SHOULD he be expected to know them, nor does he have space to know them. He is busy with things like his own and Terry's hopes and dreams and wishes. Their hopes/dreams/wishes are just as valid and important as yours, aren't they? Yes, they are. So calm down. caaaaaaaallllllm dowwwwwn.

Yes, I love the show very much too, but at the end of the day it is just a story. And the great thing about stories is that you are empowered to retell them in a different way. It is not real, so if you end up unsatisfied by S3, then blithely impose your own reality and build your own joy. It's not like it's the End Of The World or anything (lil fandom joke there for you)

And look, if you read this and you're feeling Mad and Upset or Frustrated about it, that is a symptom that you are maybe feeling a little stung in your Media Trauma parts. I am sorry that other stories have let you down in the past, and I really sympathize that you are feeling scared about the fate of this story that really matters to you. You've invested a lot of love into it! I really understand the fear! You don't want to be hurt again, and that's super understandable and normal.

But bestie, literally the only way for you to find a story that's exactly perfect for you and that won't hurt you at all is for you to write it yourself. I know that sucks to hear, but it is the truth. If you keep pinning a hope of perfection on other people's stories, you will keep getting traumatized by the media you consume. Love other people's stories for what they ARE, not for the stories that you WANTED them to be -- the same way that we love people, you know? You have to let a person be their own person; you can't force them to be someone else. That's fucked up, so if you notice that you keep trying to do that, maybe go to therapy so you can be that Someone-Else person for yourself (or, if you can't afford therapy, read some self-help books from the library or find some good channels on Youtube who make content that might help with that (I really like JulienHimself)).

If you need a story to be something big and important for you, if you are seeking catharsis and healing from a story that matters to you and you're really scared that you won't get it, then open a Word document and start typing. You can do it. You're a human being, and you evolved to tell stories. Literally it's a species specialization. You got this. It's gonna be okay, because you're going to seize the means of production and MAKE it okay. Yes? Yes.

Good Omens S3 will be what it will be. It will be what Neil wants it to be and what Terry would have wanted it to be. Period. That IS actually the highest achievement and the most noble and admirable accomplishment that we can hope for. And hey, maybe what they want overlaps with what you want, and that will be wonderful! But that will be merely a happy coincidence. The only person who can TRULY center your wants is YOU. So stop trying to trap Neil into doing it, please, because he's busy and it's not his job, AND because your wants do matter and you deserve to have someone who can give your wants their 100% full attention (aka you. that's you. only you can do that. Not even your best friends in the world can do it. Not even your mom can do it, at least not if you're old enough to know how to read.)

It's gonna be okay. Really. Really, it is. No, stop typing the snarky melodramatic reply. This is not the time for jokes; I'm being serious. It's going to be okay. Neil Gaiman can only break your heart exactly as much as you allow him to do so. That's how art works. You have to consent in order to be affected by it, and you can withdraw your consent at any time. You're going to be okay. I promise. As long as you choose to claim your own agency and your own empowerment as an individual, then all will be well and all manner of things will be well.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil.

I know you are flooded with asks and this somehow became extremely long. Too long. “Why am I suddenly telling this poor man my life story?” too long. “I think I’d rather he work on the GO3 script than read this wild beast” too long. “He’s going to think you’re criminally dangerously insane” too long. If you never get to it, I’m good with never seeing a response from you. Maybe it’s better that way? Maybe an anon would have been nice here. But, it’s 2024, so I say “we ball.” It’s a privilege to be able to send this to you at all. You get a lot to this effect and I hope they give you good feels, so maybe what’s the harm, yeah? Because this is not an ask. This is a thank you letter.

First, thanks for reblogging my therapist post, I hope it amused you. I nearly sent you “How am i supposed to explain this to my therapist?!” But refrained. At that time.

So, therapy. What is therapy really? Well…

Things have been really rotten for as long as I can remember. Bad health, bad doctors, bad relationships, bad coping mechanisms, bad all kinds of things. (Yeah, bad is a weak and unhelpful word, my therapist reminds me, but we’re doing this.)

Well, things got even more really really rotten and BAD these last few years. Health declined further, coping mechanisms declined further and more intensely, packed up my life, applied for disability, moved back in with my parents across the country.

Then 4 years ago last week I watched my fiance die of a sudden heart attack. I was 29. Two years later my best friend died. Then last summer I sauntered vaguely into a cancer scare. Not long before an operation my cat who has been my companion through so much garbage died as well. I’m not entirely in the clear on the cancer scare front. All my attempts at going back to work, volunteering, going to grad school - they collapsed on me because I couldn’t get through this STUFF.

(Sometimes when I talk about this, when I tell people, I think “they are going to think you are a raging pathological liar.” Because I’m not sure I would believe someone if they told me all of this happened to them. In such a short time period. All before they were 35. And hell if that hasn’t been isolating. You know how it sounds? Lonely. And it is.)

I did the hypervigilant and sensation/experience chasing stage of PTSD. It got me in a lot of trouble in all kinds of ways. I had to do a lot of medical and psych advocating because things kept getting worse. That was exhausting. Then that peaked. I went into the thick of the “I feel absolutely nothing” stage for a long time. I didn’t feel fatigue or hunger or thirst. Not people, feelings, a reason. Not hope.

But of course, like seems be for a lot of us, I somehow found Good Omens at just the right time. I was a very “I’m so cool and intellectual I mostly consume non-fiction media” person for too long. Like, what? How is that even a real thing? And it wasn’t real. It was just part of this curated autism mask that I don’t think anyone really bought anyway.

I think I got to a point where I’d just had too much reality. I needed fantasy. I didn’t realize I always needed it. But I denied myself for too many odd and painful reasons. Maybe I thought it was an escape I didn’t deserve.

But as it turns out, it wasn’t an escape. I watched both seasons last fall, and then this light came on. I watched it again and again.

I came to tumblr because I needed more. I found this fandom. I stepped into this beautiful world of fanart and fanfiction and brain flexing meta writing and a sense of community and wonder that you and Terry created - that everyone involved in the show inflated - exploded in the right way - like fireworks if fireworks were some kind of autocatalytic reaction - a self perpetuating force.

It’s not a “saved my life” feeling. Not a “getting my life back” feeling. It’s been a “maybe it’s time for you to have the life you’ve always been denied - that you’ve denied yourself” feeling.

I’m creating. I’m not “great” yet. Not terribly “good” at all. Maybe “behind” as far as the “proper” timeline for starting. I know there isn’t one, not really, but boy does that society machine make ya feel like there is. And sure, I started and stopped a lot in the past. But the second it got hard I always gave up. I felt like if I didn’t get it “right” to begin with, then I just didn’t have it in me at all. But for once I’m really in it. I’m writing and trying to draw things that look less like fever dream five year old drawings. (Not that there’s anything wrong with those, is there? 🙃) I’m eating better. I’m sleeping better. I reach out to old friends more. I’ve made new friends who share this love of Good Omens.

My therapist has been floored by the change in me. After that first funny mini flop, he has been so encouraging about it. I saw him this week and I said “Maybe this is helping me get prepared to start living again. Maybe it’s a springboard.” And he honest to god said “But You ARE living. This is YOU LIVING. Why does it have to be a springboard? Why do you have to turn this into ‘work?’ Just let yourself have this for once in your life.”

But there were two more added elements that made it all work. And I can’t help but think this whole brainrot thing wouldn’t have happened without them. So many things just happened all at just the right time - a proper coincidence.

In all of the madness of the last few years I finally got the memo that I'm autistic. i figured I was for a while. But it finally sunk in for me and my docs and my people. So I’d been working on unpacking that. Grieving the life that could have been entirely different, shedding the mask. I let myself hyperfixate openly instead of hiding it and hating myself for “spiralling” or “obsessing” like others -!like ‘I’ always punished myself for before we knew that it was a trait and not a personality flaw.

Then over the last few months my therapist and I started trying this new exercise. One session he stopped me and said “in the last 20 minutes you have responded to what I’ve said with 9 ‘I knows.’” My response to that? “Ugh, I know.” So we started this “I know” swear jar type situation. Really, I’ve been afraid of not knowing. I couldn’t let myself “not know.” Because it meant I was “dumb.” I was just drowning for so long in guilt and self loathing for the “I knew better and screwed up anyway.” Or “I should’ve known better - I should know that by now.”

As it turns out, there’s a lot of things I don’t know. That I didn’t know. Things I will never know. And refusing to admit all of that kept me from learning a damn thing. Kept me from asking questions. Kept me from trying new things because it was scary to do something new - something unknown - and I "knew" how it would all turn out anyway. Kept me from connecting with people because it was painful or embarrassing when they knew things I didn’t and it seemed like I already should have. Kept me from getting better at making art, music, writing. Kept me from forgiving myself. Kept me from growing. And kept me from moving forward. Maybe not on. I don’t know if we ever “move on” from things. But we can move forward as we carry them. And as we do, the weight gets less. We’re able to carry it better. But only if we can admit that we don’t know how. Only if we don’t treat ourselves like this is something we do know or should know and we’re just failing because we’re less than. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not deserving. We have to be able to say “I don’t know how to do this.” And then we can start looking for the answers. We can ask. We can learn.

I thought about the apple. Being able to tell the difference between good and evil. Aziraphale’s years and years of watching what he “knows” to be true be proven wrong. Crowley’s need to ask questions…

The simple and enormous gift of “Knowledge.” The “Knowledge” of the difference between Good and Evil. The “Knowledge” that can only be gained by realizing, accepting, admitting that there are things we don’t know. Asking the questions. Sometimes we get answers we don’t like. Sometimes the consequences of asking hurt us. And unless you want to stay in that painful place that painful knowledge got you, well, you’ve got to let yourself learn how to get out.

So all of this good? I never expected this. I never thought I deserved it. Joy and belonging and this sense that “Yeah, maybe things can get better. Maybe things can be good.” Because I said those things, not truly believing them, to the people I thought needed to hear it. But it couldn’t save them. It was hollow. The proof for us wasn’t really in our orbit or on our radar at the time. And now they’re gone.

People always say “it’s never too late.”

One of the people I lost said “it’s later than you think.”

I jokingly would respond “it’s already too late.”

It was for him in the end. For them. For some people I guess it really is. But maybe a lot of the “too late” people are there because they think “they know” that things will never be good for them. So they stop looking, they stop asking, stop finding. And eventually they just stop.

Then there came Crowley’s “It’s always too late.” The first time I heard it I thought “For sure, Crowley-cakes, I KNOW.”

But then…I just needed to rewatch the whole thing. And lines like that…familiar things…familiar themes…I was suddenly identifying with these characters. I suddenly saw myself. And the realization hit - I connected with something! Something new. And I FELT THAT. And that tiny little crack that made in the wall was just enough to start breaking it down. Yeah, when you start letting yourself feel after not feeling for so long, opening up to the good feelings means opening up to feelings and then the bad ones come out too. But when there IS good … it helps you balance. You can deal with the bad a little better because you’ve got the good thing to lean against when it gets too much. And now you’ve got feelings. You’ve got good and bad. You’ve got sticky foggy grey. You’ve got life.

Whew.

So, TLDR, thank you. From the bottom of my slowly healing heart, thank you.

And to sign off with some shits and giggles… I couldn’t find this in existence as a sticker so I had to custom order. Perhaps this will spread misery and panic among the humans of my city - or at least a malignant and creepy sense of unease.

Or maybe they’ll say “wtf” and go home and google it and they’ll fall into the Good Omens hole they never knew they needed too.

Thank you for this. I never quite know what to say to messages like this apart from I am really glad that it helps. (It becomes the weird extra piece that I worry about when writing season 3 -- hoping that it will be that thing again. Not just a story, but something that helps people feel and helps with healing and helps with love.)

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: Hey y'all! I hope y'all enjoy, the next one might be submissive Terry idkidk 🫣 kinda hate this one.

Perfect Gentleman. | Aaron Pierre.

Gentle!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader

Warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions but not limited to; sexual content ( penetrat!on, oral s3x ( m receiving), extreme language (cursing, sexual references) established relationship, slight daddy kink if you squint. Not proofread!

Summary: terry's been the perfect gentleman, maybe a little too gentle.

swear you can have me, you really one-of-one.

how you so nasty? you really one-of-one.

You eagerly scratched the itch away in your bitten up ankles. The mosquitoes out here in the Black Bayou had torn your exposed ankles up—and this was why camping wasn't your thing. You'd never complain though, any excuse to be with Terry was a good one.

"I told you to wear long socks," he chuckled looking back you and at how you'd scratched the skin on your ankles red, "all that gardenin' you do and you out here with no socks on," he softly lectured as you watched him pitch the tent, at his demand. He was such a gentleman.

You'd been dating Terry for over four months, you've both went on a plethora of dates, had the steamy first kiss, and even spent a night at each others apartment, but you still hadn't fucked yet. Was it you? You knew you had an Oscar worthy performance of your coy-innocent act that Terry ate up all of the time, but you weren't a prude. You couldn't count how many times you'd hinted, and seduced only to be met with more gentleness.

And you loved how patient, protective, and gentle he was with you. He was everything you'd practically asked for when you started dating. A nice man, a sweet man—and you got it, a full blown golden retriever boyfriend. He had so many amazing qualities, he was always on time arriving fifteen minutes early. Something he said was one of the most useful things he learned from his time in the Marine Corps. He was a full blown de-escalator, he never wanted to argue with you, always communicating as calmly as he could before coming to an understanding with you. He was gentle. But maybe he was too gentle? You wanted Terry in the worst ways. It didn't help that he stayed in good shape, gym four times a week, and his infinite morning runs kept him in tip-top shape.

You pouted, squinting your eyes as you looked at Terry from underneath the brim of the Nike bucket hat you'd retrieved from him. Although he was pitching the tent and the sun was currently beating down on him, he decided that, you, sitting in the shade doing nothing, needed the hat more. Such a man.

"You said come comfortable, and I garden in my crocs—that's what I came in!" You defended your reasoning for not wearing the socks that he did tell you to pack last night over a quick FaceTime call, but he did say come comfortable in the same sentence. "These mosquitos are relentless, baby, look at my ankles!" You frowned looking at how red and irritated the skin has gotten there even on your deep brown skin.

Of course Terry stopped his meddling with the tent and came over to assess your so badly injured ankles. He tsk'd softly his big hands cradling both of your ankles gently. Now push them behind my head! you eagerly thought feeling him touch you at all always sent shocks and shivers through your body.

"They eatin' my baby up," he somberly acknowledged rubbing his thumbs where the bites were firmly, "you put bug spray on like I told you?"

You nodded. "Yeah, just go and finish the tent," you dramatically sighed waiting to eagerly scratch at the bites, "I'll just be sitting over here, itchy, getting ate up." At least something was eating you up.

He brought your left ankle up to his lips casually, placing a soft kiss there before setting the both of them back down carefully. You almost moaned, it had been way too long. "stop scratchin' at em, you makin' em worse."

You looked at him, batting your eyelashes at him a dazed nod following right behind. He was so gorgeous, and it didn't help that he was so sweet and treated you like the absolute brat you were. He continued on with his quick work with the tent and you continued on with your sneaky scratching. After it was perfectly pitched, he got you inside as soon as it was done to rub a bit of alcohol on your itchy ankles and making you put on a pair of his socks that were way too big for you.

You frowned looking down at your legs later that night as you both set around the campfire, that you had gotten started. You hadn't forgotten all the survival tips your father had shown you. Terry focused on cooking the fish he and you caught earlier from the pier. He'd cleaned it and dissembled it himself. "These are puttin' a damper on my outfit, so not cute."

Terry chuckled, quickly flipping the searing fish over in the pan. Your eyes flickered over to him. "What?"

"You so country," he commented through a light chuckle, "damper?"

"That's not country!" You defended through a smile. "Everybody says damper!"

"Nobody says damper,"

"Does too!"

"Why you gotta be such a brat? Why you act like that?" He teased playfully, holding his hand out to you only to pull you up from your chair and into his lap. "Hm?" He hummed nuzzling his faced into your neck where he playfully nipped at the skin on your neck, knowing the ticklish effect it had on you.

You laughed hunching your shoulder up to push him away from the area, "stop!" The assault lasted a few more minutes before he reluctantly stopped, only when he seen the tears from your nonstop laughter, and how you cradled your aching stomach when you laughed.

"Brat," he mumbled in between persisting kisses to your lips. You happily returned each one, who were you to deny the brat allegations. They were very true. "Always gotta have yo way."

"You love how bratty I am," you retorted, trailing your own lingering kisses from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck.

"I do," he mumbled out an agreement making you laugh against his neck before continuing on, and you thought maybe, as his hands kneaded the back of your thighs and the undersides of your ass. But all that came undone when he urgently removed you from his lap in light hysterics about almost burning the fish.

The fish.

How could he even think about fish when he had your throbbing pussy in his lap, was he really blind to all this shit? Or was he just not sexually attracted to you? Or was he fucking celibate? The questions brought on a lingering insecurity. The rest of the night you were more distant, quiet, the situation left you a little embarrassed and salty. You'd never had a man be so indifferent to your advances. Or did he even see them as advances? Hell, you didn't know anymore.

Your distance and quiet demeanor didn't go unnoticed either Terry, who constantly made it his mission to see if you were okay and enjoying yourself. You answered the same all the time, yes, which did very little to comfort him—but he also didn't wanna push you into irritation.

"You sure you good, baby?" He asked later that night as you both settled into the cozy tent. You made sure to nestle yourself into your cute, pinky, sleeping bag. It was so you.

"Yeah." You simply answered with a nod, forcing the weak smile. Such a liar. But you weren't gonna admit that the situation left you feeling a little salty. You didn't wanna bring the situation up at all, you'd much rather forget it.

"You sure? You not actin' like yourself, baby. You want me to take you home?" There he went. Being so him. Always being so caring.

"No, I'm fine. It's nothing really, im just..itchy still." You seamlessly lied. Or maybe not. You were still itchy.

Terry decided not to press the issue instead making sure he got as close as possible to you, something he always did when you slept together, he loved being right up under you—you didn't contest to it. Ever. You both gave your good nights, and Terry made sure to turn off the LED lantern lamp you both had in the tent. A soft and easy silence falling over the both of you. Terry's soft breathing, body heat, chirping crickets and the pitch black were enough to lull you to sleep. And they almost did, but damn, you were still itchy.

You brought your knees to your chest, hastily scratching at your extremely itchy ankles, a heavy, draws out sigh from the temporary but almost euphoric relief skipped past your lips.

"Stop scratchin'." Terry's deep voice but through the silence, the raspiness on the edge of his voice attributed to the sleep that had took him in quick. The words halted your actions quickly as you tried to quietly morph into a comfortable position.

"I'm not," you spoke quietly.

"But you were."

His damn hearing. He heard everything.

"Well I wouldn't have been if I was doing something else." Your tone snappy but the suggestiveness fore fronted the sassiness.

"Somethin' else like what?" Terry questioned.

You huffed immediately, sitting up abruptly from your sleeping bag and flickering the lantern on. "Are you really that clueless?" You exclaimed almost, looking at his ever so lost expression. "Terry, are not you sexually attracted to me?"

Terry looked at you as if you'd grown two heads. Like he couldn't understand why you'd ask him such a question, like you didn't know he was a full blown raging man. "Why would you even ask me that, of course im sexually attracted to you, baby."

"You don't act like it," you quietly murmured, "it's like every time I try, you pull back. What is it? I really thought I was obvious enough with everything."

And you were. Terry wasn't ignorant to your advances. But he also wasn't ignorant to your past relationships and the men that you dealt with. Full blown sex addicts a few of them seemed to be, and some of them seemed unable to form a real bond with you without sex. He wanted to prove to you that he actually liked you, that he wanted to get to know you past sex. That he wanted this to last. It'd taken copious amounts of restraint for him to slyly deter away from the advances. Copious amounts.

He wasn't exactly sure how he made it to four months himself, without caving in. Maybe it was his serious he'd gotten about your relationship, maybe it was genuine like for you that made it somewhat easy. He was still a man though, taking care of himself when he was finally away from you.

He said your name slowly, sitting up himself, "im utterly, completely, and deeply sexually attracted to you. But I wanna show you that when it comes to keeping this together, sex is indifferent to me. I don't want you to think we need that shit to connect. I genuinely like you, alot."

"I like you too, but I already knew that Terry," he softly laughed, the weight of the insecurities dropping off your shoulders. You couldn't believe that once again, all this time, the lack of sex was catered to his feelings about you. You were gonna fuck this man so good. So good. "I knew that at the end of the first date when you didn't try to kiss me when you dropped me off." You giggled at the recanting of the memory.

"I wanted you to feel it though."

"And I do feel it," you slinked even closer to him, hand trailing up his thigh, "I feel it so much." You looked up at him, batting your long lashes.

Terry sat there slack mouthed, brows furrowed, his stormy eyes looking down at you with bursting pleasure and astonishment as he watched you suck him down. How the fuck did you get so good at this shit? You'd completely covered his shaft in your saliva, you were loud and sloppy. Just how he liked it. Throat so tight around him, every time you nuzzled him in. You were dazed yourself, tasting him, having him in the back of your throat where you craved him so many times before. You were savoring all of this.

Your hands wrapped themselves around his girthy length, stroking them at a brisk pace, your wet mouth guiding them in their dizzying up and down movements. His grunts and groans of approval only furthered you to please him more. You looked up at him, eyes watery, and soft as you took him down, spit bubbles formed around him, as you nuzzled him in deeper into your mouth. Removing a spit soaked hand, you nuzzled that into your soaked panties, pleasing him, pleased you.

"Sss-shitttt," he drug out through a groan, his strong hand grasping the back of your neck, as he bucked himself up into your mouth, relentlessly fucking your throat. You shut your watery, burning eyes letting him use you how he wanted. "Fuck, eat that dick up baby. You do that shit so good," he slurred through his persisting moans.

That only furthered your arousal, which furthered your efforts. The rough gags and choking from you was almost enough to send him over the edge. Almost. You finally pulled back, giving him a chance to recover and giving yourself a chance to catch your ailing breathing.

You stroke him off, spitting down on his shaft in your hands, eagerly stroking the lubrication in, leaning your head down to suck one of his balls into your mouth; gently. You knew too much. How did you know so much?

"Why you so nasty?" He mumbled grabbing your chin once you were done tending to his balls. "Hm?" He hummed before pressing your wet lips to his own. His kiss rushed, sloppy, and deep. His tongue searched every inch of your mouth, his lips sucking your own into his mouth.

Oh he was nasty like that?

"Move," he knocked your hands away from his still hardened dick, "take that shit off." He comments taking heed to the articles of clothing you still had on, his own hands slithering under the oversized shirt you'd put on for bed.

"But I wanted to make you cum—" you started, wiping your wet mouth with the back of your hand once he eagerly pulled your t-shirt off, nipples immediately pebbling due to the exposure of the cool night air in the tent. You didn't get to finish your sentence before Terry's lips were already latched onto the flesh on your neck, creating red blemishes as he cascaded down your body skillfully.

"You bout to," he mumbled attaching his lips to yours once again, "open up," he tapped your jaw firmly, "lemme see." The firm taps to your jaw ignited the fire and aching need in your belly, a moan slipped past your lips as you opened like he asked.

You watched, dazed, as he spat down into your mouth. Oh, he was nasty.

It was like yin and yang to you. This couldn't be your Terry. Not the Terry that bought you flowers every Sunday and never let you lift a finger Terry. This was a different Terry, nasty Terry. Impatient Terry. Demanding Terry. Just what you wanted.

"Oh my god-uhhhh!" You slurred out through a moan. Terry's vice grip on your locs matched the same vice grip you currently had him in right now. He had you positioned on all fours, one hand on your hip to steady his hard, dizzying strokes. He was fucking you hard, too hard. Too good. Your thighs trembled beneath you, knees threatening to buckle as he slammed into your heated core repeatedly. It's like he knew exactly where that spot was located. "Right there, daddy! Right fucking there," you whimpered, face pressed pathetically on the pallet beneath you.

"I know, i feel that shit," he groaned, sending another hard smack to your ass cheek, the recoil from his pelvis constantly slamming into your ass had him in a complete daze. Four months he kept himself from this, restrained himself from what he knew had to be good. But he didn't expect it feel like this. "Wettin' me right the fuck up—mm mm, keep that shit right there, you better not fuckin' lay down, keep that shit open just like that." He mumbled out into the tent, taking into head your trembling legs. The lewd sounds of your sopping wet pussy, followed by the loud slapping of your skin together filled your tent and your empty head.

"Fuckkkk," you groaned out, managing to sit up in your elbows, acrylics clawing at the covers beneath you, your eyes crossed as you felt his tip kissing a little too deep, "so deep, baby."

"Mhm," he hummed pulling your head back with his tight grip on your hair, his lust filled glare looking right down into your own crossed eyes, "right where i should be. Look at you, takin' this dick like a good girl. This what you wanted right?"

"Yesssss," you managed to fully get out, a series of breath taking moans following. He was giving you exactly what you wanted; hard, rough shit. He was fucking you like he hated you, like he had a point to prove. This shit was only making you delusional did he not understand the type of you he would get now?

"Yeah? Wanted daddy to dig yo' shit out just like this, huh?" He nodded watching you nod in response, your breaths coming out in a series of heavy puffs. "I know you did, can tell by the way you creamin' on my dick."

"Shittt!" You gasped out the exploitive, planting your hands flat against the ground, mustering yo whatever weak energy you had to fuck yourself back against him, working toward your own impending orgasm. "I'm finna cum!" You rushed out.

Terry pulled you back toward his chest, your small frame engulfed in his as you sat promptly in his lap getting impaled in the most delicious way possible. You felt lightheaded, high, and perfect all at once. "Babyyyy, im cummin'!" You whined out.

"Keep tellin' me, do that shit. Lemme feel you cum on my dick," he grunted, the lewd works making you clench around him as they clearly sent you tumbling over the edge. Terry mocking your long, loud and drawn out moans with his own. His lips attacking wherever they could on your exposed neck. His impaling strokes never stopped, even when it was clear you'd completely rode it out. He kept fucking you, sending you into a deep place of overstimulation. When was he ever planning to cum?

"Look at you," he mumbled a smug smirk on his lips, hand firmly holding your slacked jaw in his hand, "dick got you dumb—breathe through that shit, baby." He tapped your jaw, repeatedly. The sight of you alone, plus the constant contracting of your walls around him had earned you a deliciously sounding groan. You hadn't even realized you were holding your breath until he spoke up.

Everything was too much. It was too much to focus on. The pleasure, his voice, his kisses. Forgetting to breathe in the middle of your overstimulation was warranted.

Your breaths cane tumbling back to you fast, hard and quick you panted. Body trembling in Terrys grasp, as dared to lean forward feeling another orgasm approaching, but this one felt harder. Body-shattering. It hurt and felt so good at the same time.

"Fuck, ima nut baby," Terry grunted in your ear. "Pussy so good, why yo shit so good like this?" Finally.

"Cum in my pussy, please daddy," was the first and only thing you could get out, not even warning him about your oncoming orgasm. This one cramped everything, the tightness in your stomach didn't subside but seemed to get tighter. Your thighs were numb, but your legs ached. The squeal you let out left your throat raw, and that's why you didn't hear Terry when he finally announced that he was cumming, but you felt him for sure, right where you told him to.

You felt Terry's lips against your jaw, kissing you repeatedly. Telling you how well you did for him, how he couldn't believe he kept himself away from that for four months. How good it was. These were finally the words that lulled you off to a blissful sleep, you'd finally got what you wanted. There you were, fucked out In a tent, with cum leaking out of you. Such a whore. A happy whore.

-

still no tag list! 😭 hope you enjoy this little filler! 💕

[variousqueerthings]

okay I watched good omens s2 yesterday with my partner, and I was genuinely very surprised -- I think if you've grown up through superwholock/merlin/the 100/teen wolf type shows where (with the exception periodically of doctor who) you kind of had to make up the good show that something could have been in your head, that colours a lot of your viewing, and to be honest I thought season 1 of good omens was a fine little piece, honoured the book while modernising it somewhat, it was a nice, fun, low stakes time, with a couple of things I might have wanted a tad different but nothing overall awful.

so I was seeing all this meta and gifsets and discussion, while I was waiting to give s2 a watch with my partner and thought "ah, people have made up the good show in their heads again" not that I assumed s2 was going to be a bad show, but that people were taking extra deep plunges into possibilities, the way fandom does, and that was fine. I knew there was a big ol kiss, I had a sense of some kind of argument at the end, and that it was setting up a s3

I also knew that mainstream reviews were calling it (politely) self-indulgent and dependent on whether or not you enjoy david tennant and michael sheen having a good time for just under 6 hours

all in all, expectations of a somewhat mainstream show without too much to think about, a nice, fun low stakes time, moving on...

(EDIT: AND THEN I WROTE A LOT OF WORDS SO YOU CAN IMAGINE THAT MY REACTION WAS QUITE DIFFERENT)

as it turns out it seems these things that were being written on tumblr were discussing the actual text of the show and not things you could extrapolate if you squinted and tilted your head a little to the left as I'm so used to doing, so in fact there is much to think about!

and my first thought was "this is like when you read early discworld books that ask a question like a joke, only to find that over time the answer to that question becomes very serious (and also can be funny at times of course)." how terry pratchett would pick and pick at tropes and notions and social ideas and go "oh now hold on, this seems strange..." starting way back when he thought it was odd that women warriors always seemed to be dressed in metal bikinis and then realising he hadn't done a good enough job of subverting the trope, simply by depicting it and calling it a bit silly

why do goblins always get treated as the villains? what's with this divine succession of kings business? where are the female dwarfs? who do we treat as disposable?

good omens season one went: "haha what if heaven and hell were intensely incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring of the work they did, and we took an angel and a demon and had them actually care? wouldn't that be... a bit silly?" (and it was)

good omens season two went: "what are the consequences for caring when the people who have power over you are incapable, bureaucratic, corrupt, and uncaring? what are the forces that supersede systems built on fear, ignorance, and violent conformity? can people change and break out of/challenge/break down these structures by caring?"

and this was set up with a neat little sleight of hand (to reference aziraphale's switch-and-bait in the episode with the nazi zombies), because the majority of season 2 does feel a bit indulgent: hey, remember those two wacky angel-and-demon characters? watch some more wacky things they did through the ages, watch them take a sojourn through 1827 Edinburgh and do a magic show during the Blitz, and... stop the death of Job's and Sitis' children (actually maybe that whole segment ought to have been what they call "A Clue")

see them try to figure out a kooky mystery, all the while setting up a cute little same-gender romance on their street. watch as everything points towards a happy ending that's all about the two of them realising what they've been to one another all these thousands and thousands (and thousands and thousands) of years- but hold on. lest we forget - and the show has made this point over and over - there are powerful people who control them, who hurt them, and who plan on hurting others, throughout the whole season, and as it turns out they know what they've been to one another for far far longer, and know how to pull their strings...

season 2 then, has to show us these things, not because they're indulgent (well, maybe occasionally, but the apology dance is still important), but because in order to make the ending a tragedy, we first need to understand, properly, the impact that they have had on each other. we need to understand that Aziraphale relied heavily on Crowley to be his moral compass and leaned on black-and-white thinking in order to deal with things, because if it's all grey then where does he fit and what has it all meant and heaven has to be the good guys, even as Job's and Sitis' children are ordered to be killed, it's all he ever had...

and Crowley was always an anchor, needed to trust that Aziraphale was different, needed to bend to every whim that Aziraphale has, because otherwise what's his worth in all this? After having been already deemed worthless by the heaven that Aziraphale needs to believe in?

and that, simplistically described, is the narrative that we're seeing in s2, and alongside that the ways that the changes they have upon each other are noticed, and monitored, and placed under suspicion, and finally... broken up, not by the clumsy, brute force that's been attempted over and over again, but by a promise to return into a violent, controlling system and to "make it better from within"

and all of this is wrapped up in two queer relationships + a third queered-within-the-text relationship that creates the inverse of how it ends for Aziraphale and Crowley (so far). queer love -- whatever shape that has -- is explicitly the shape of non-conformity within this narrative, including within the symbolism of angel-and-demon love of Gabriel and Beelzebub, which in the context of the systems created is considered queer (and one can argue till the cats come home about casting cis actors, about angel-and-demon notions of gender/romance/sexuality, but the "queerness" comes from building something non-conforming to the systems they exist in), and enforced by the explicitly our-world-definition-of queer romance that Nina and Maggie have going on (which, while less high stakes, still contains the background controlling relationship that Nina initially is in)

all of this to say, that I disagree that s2 meanders, or that plotlines happen for the sake of showcasing Aziraphale and Crowley without purpose, or that characters get sidelined (I'd say it sets up a whole host of interesting characters to further get into actually), or that it's strictly mainstream easy-access narrative that's just an excuse for the main creators and actors to get back together.

the love is the point, and this show takes its time to show the love (and the unequal boundary-setting, and the fact that one of them has an undiscussed tragic backstory, and the desperation to belong again, and the fear instilled by oppressive systems, and and and), so that we understand why those last 15 minutes happen the way that they do

it's sleight of hand, and like all good magic, you don't notice until it's happened

[skxllz]

Jealous Ian and Mickey??

say no more

+

“ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲? ”

warnings; mickey being mickey. physical violence (typical shameless shit). ian with rings + getting arrested hehe. blood mention. I think that's it??

date posted; 12.9.23

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usually, ian wasn't the type to get jealous. he had his moments in the past with mick’, with that fucker that had talked shit on ‘im at the bar. and maybe that angie girl... but that was a while ago. maybe even with svetlana, but of course that couldn't be helped. and maybe that one time when they first met you...

okay, maybe ian did get jealous. but that was besides the fact. he's never felt uncontrollable rage before when it's come to anyone other than mickey. the time mickey and svetlana married? he wasn't just heartbroken; he felt the need to actually kill terry and tell svetlana to fuck off in front of everyone, even though technically the circumstances weren't her fault. with you, he's never felt that — not since you started dating him and mickey.

it's funny really, for both of them. it was the moment ian realized he actually was in love with you — same for mickey. only, mick’ didn't realize until after the fact.

it started off with an actual date night between you three. ian told you that him and mickey planned one a while ago but it never sought through because some bitch named sammy got him arrested. you didn't know who the sammy chick was, and ian didn't explain who she was, but you mentally vowed that night to stick it to her. that's why you took them both out a week later, to some fancy restaurant on the west side.

mickey complained about a few things on the way there; the fact that he had to wear a tux, the way it fit him, and that the west side was the last damn place he wanted to be. he claimed it was where the ‘ rich bitches with those stupid nose bandaids ’ live and he wanted no part of that parade. you reassured him though that those noses of theirs would end up bleeding if they gave him the slightest problem.

to say the least, you gave him a boner and a good convincing.

after you arrived at the destination, you had watched while entering the restaurant as the two males gawked at the scenery of the place. it made ian question you just how you were going to afford everything —in which you laughed and just replied with “ don't worry, i’ ”— and mickey mutter under his breath just how much the golden posts by the doorway would go for on ebay. you swatted him on the shoulder since you heard ‘im.

you guys’ little trio was escorted generously to a nice window booth at the back of the restaurant, giving a nice view of the back patio where a fountain and little glowy fairy lights were displayed; giving off a familiar, comfortable feel. and, although you felt as ease, you could mickey still did not by the way he was tugging at different ends of his suit and scooting around in his seat.

“ mick- y’okay? ” ian asked, giving a puzzled questionable expression. the red head had been reading over the drinks menu when he noticed his boyfriend acting out of place.

“ this place gives me the fucking quivers... ” mickey muttered, once again shifting. “ I feel like ‘m bein’ stared at. ”

ian snorted at that. usually mickey didn't let shit get to him - especially people, at that. if there a problem, he'd sort it out himself, so why was he acting off now. “ why's that bothering you? ”

you were now looking at mickey as well, expecting him to answer as you raised your brows curiously. you too wanted to know why he was acting differently.

“ because, ” he sighed in frustration, only then leaning across to table to harshly whisper to Ian, while sparing you a slight glance. “ because I rather not fuckin’ ruin this night for y/n, okay? jesus christ. ”

ian's lips formed an o shape in realization. you were more sensitive than they were, so he could understand why mickey felt that way — didn't want to embarrass you or anything. if that happened, who knows how long of a grudge you'd hold.

mickey sat himself back just as a waiter approached. he was tucking in his finely pressed, button down shirt into his apron, not necessarily paying attention to his surroundings as he dropped a pen from his pocket. y/n realized — and, the good samaritan he was, he scooted out from the booth to crouch down and pick it up.

“ uh- here, ” he stood, pushing his hand out towards the waiter. “ you dropped this. ”

“ oh, ” the waiter extended a hand to take his writing tool back. and, as he did so, lifted his head, “ thank you- y/n? ”

“ blake? ” y/n asked, surprise on his face. “ holy shit. ”

that right there is when the first wave of jealousy struck in the night. the look of realization on both of their faces made Ian and mickey exchange glances — and, although ian felt a twist in his stomach, he wasn't exactly indifferent about the reunion just yet. mickey was, though. he looked sour.

and he was right to. throughout the remainder of the hours there, their waiter, blake, would always give you a smile that was always more than just a smile. he'd stop by more often than meant to, as well. asking for refills when it wasn't necessary, stopping by seconds later thinking he forgot a plate when in reality there was none to take. it pissed your boyfriends off - mickey especially.

the brunette had to withhold standing up and violating the guy where he stands. in mickey's mind, he wishes, wishes, that his stare alone could make this blake motherfucker burst into flames. it'd make his year. probably ian's too, because mick’ knew for a fact that his ginger companion was ready to blow the minute blake stopped by to give you the check.

ian's fingers were death-gripping his fork and his jaw was set. eyes pointed towards the table... and you were oblivious to it - cause you were too busy smiling at him.

“ say- ” blake spoke as he handed off the little black booklet to you, “ since it's been awhile, I was just wondering, would you like to hang out sometime? ”

mickey's head snapped up then. “ the fuck? ” he finally broke for the night. he's had enough. “ no- no, he won't like to fucking hang out sometime, ” mickey mocked, looking absolutely fed up. “ are you fucking nuts? you got some cotton in your damn brain- low iq? ”

the look on blake's face was priceless. his eyes were wide, jaw was dropped open. the hand that had stretched out to take the check back, paused midair. even you were looking at mickey like he was bat shit insane.

which, he probably was. but honestly, what do you expect with dating a milkovich?

“ you need to fucking scram before I pop your head off’a your body like a fucking cork. ” mick’ spat finally - and that was the straw that left the drink empty. you heard enough, scooting closer to mickey to calm him down.

“ mick- ”

“ who the hell are you talking to? ” blake's response made you whip your head around in his direction, eyes as wide as golf balls. was this kid crazy?

mickey looked at ian, who was already looking at him, ready to murder someone, before steering his eyes back onto the blonde male. “ I think I'm fuckin’ talkin’ to you- now y/n, sweetheart, move so I can kill this fucking rat. ”

by now, everyone around was staring. low, hushed voices whispering to one another, other waiters and waitresses watching the scene go down with saucer-bound eyes. a few folks had their phones out, recording, while others were on the phone with police.

“ I'm not moving. ” you sternly spoke, looking mickey in the eye so he knew you meant business. “ you promised you wouldn't make a scene tonight yet here you are, doing exactly that. ”

arms dramatically launched out of gesture to the blonde waiter, “ he was clearly hitting on you! ” mickey emphasized, making sure to get in through your head that you were being blind. you were. “ he wants in your fucking pants! ”

“ he does not want in my pants! ”

“ yes he fucking does! ”

“ stop swearing at me! ”

“ oh fuck off, get a grip! ”

you both were too busy arguing to notice that ian had gotten up from the table and approached blake. it wasn't until you heard gasps around you and a loud “ fuck! ” come from said blonde, followed by a thud, did you and mickey raise your heads.

ian was shaking off his hand with a blank mask of anger while blake lied on the floor, clutching his nose. blood gushed out through the cracks of his fingers, the red liquid flowing down and hitting the dark flooring of the restaurant.

people around looked frightened; staring at ian in horror, as if he was a monster. it was dramatic really.

a few of blake's coworkers rushed to his aid while ian walked back over to you both. his fist was raw and red, and his knuckles were slightly split open, but it wasn't too bad besides that.

“ holy shit... ” mickey breathed out, eyeing blake's bloody face from over your shoulder as he was stood to his feet. he was wobbly, wincing, trying not to shout as someone bumped him. it looked as if ian broke his nose. “ holy shit. ”

“ ian! ” you hissed, “ what the fuck! ”

ian shrugged, “ he got what was coming to him. he shouldn't hit on what isn't his. ”

you blinked lazily. shoulders slumping, breathing coming out in realization. “ but... I'm yours? ”

mickey scoffed and slipped his arm around your shoulders. “ are you insane? of course your ours, y/n. I wouldn't bite someone's fucking dick off for you if you weren't. ”

ian nodded towards mickey, “ what he said. I wouldn't just punch anyone. the dick deserved it. ”

you were silent for a moment, processing the emotions you felt. even though the gossip around you was annoying, you weren't necessarily mad at your boyfriends. moreso, you were just annoyed because the rest of the date was ruined. sure, you had dinner, but you wanted to do much more.

of course though, you couldn't, because the cops ran through the entrance seconds later.

“ he's over there! ” you saw the hostess point towards your red haired companion. ian swore under his breath, only to turn on his heel and book it in the opposite direction.

“ run, i’! ” you scream, looking worried.

“ fucking run like hell, ian! ” mickey looked worried too, surprisingly. I mean, it was his boyfriend, but usually he wouldn't let his emotions get the best of him cause of his pride. but here we are.

the night ended off with ian getting put into cuffs and walked out to the cop car. You and mickey both promised to bail him out somehow, and that you'd explain everything to his siblings.

“ oh- hey, y/n? ” ian called, just as the officer was shoving him into the vehicle.

“ yeah? ” you call back.

“ I love you! ”

your heart damn near skipped a beat. chest fell as you lost breath, a smile of joy spreading across your face. with happiness now in your heart, you lifted your hand, waving him goodbye.

that's when mickey suddenly pulled you by the arm, ripping a gasp from you, and kissed your temple.

“ I love you too, weasel. ”

[zorrasucia]

look at how well you take me. even though it's been so long.

for carmy x reader PLEASE

Hello Anon! 💜

Gladly! I wrote this as a loose sequel to this, though it's only relevant in that Reader is Chef Terry's goddaughter and they met back in Copenhagen. I hope you like it! 😊

Carmy burst through the door of your hiding spot, making you jump in shock.

"Fuck!" he cursed. "Sorry, thought this was empty."

He was about to leave without even looking at you and you reached for him.

"Carmy?" you held his wrist.

He finally saw your face. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed and immediately enveloped you in a tight hug.

You hadn't seen each other in literal years but even so, his hold felt a little too intense and desperate.

"You okay?" you whispered.

"Um, I don't- I don't know," his voice broke and you could hear the tears he was holding back.

"It's okay, Carm," you squeezed him, putting more of your weight into the hug. "I'm right here."

You stayed there, running your fingers soothingly on his shoulders and the nape of his neck.

He sniffled. "You're here," he repeated. After a pause he mumbled: "Why are you here?"

"I came for the funeral," you replied quietly. You thought it would be obvious, given that you were both inside the cloakroom of Aunt Terry's restaurant but Carmy seemed very disoriented. "I couldn't miss it. It's Ever."

"It's Ever," Carmy hummed in agreement. "Uh, I meant what are you doing here in the cloakroom."

"I'm not made for networking," you sighed. "I needed a break. And, well, I don't smoke - so the cloakroom seemed a good idea."

"I'm trying to quit smoking. Maybe you're right and this is a good spot," he said gently.

He took a step back, a little more collected, even if his eyes still looked teary in the halflit room.

You smiled. "It's good to see you, Carm. I thought you were still in New York," you said and it felt a little too formal for the way you were holding each other just seconds ago.

"No, I've been, uh, been in Chicago the last few months... Two years now, shit..." it seemed like he was realizing it just as he was saying it.

"Is it nice? Being home?" you asked, tilting your head, studying his reaction.

"Uh, sure, yeah. I opened a restaurant that might close next week if we don't get a good review but, uh, you know," he said flatly.

You reached for his hand and rubbed his knuckles.

"Is that why you're upset?"

"Huh?" he furrowed his eyebrows.

"Just now? Like I get how it would be upsetting to attend a funeral when your own restaurant might-" you explained your reasoning.

"Oh! No, it's not-" he squeezed his eyes shut. "I, uh, ran into my asshole boss. From New York. He's- He messed me up real bad," he was still avoiding your gaze but he let you cup his face, comforting him. "So I, I confronted him and he, uh, he thinks he did me a favor. Like, shit, I knew he was a fucking psychopath but he doesn't even care. He doesn't-"

His voice broke again and you brought him back into your arms, his face tucked to the side of your neck, tears wetting your skin.

"It's okay. You're okay," you caressed his hair. "I'm right here, Carmy."

He nodded, unable to speak for a while. He squeezed you, his nose buried deep in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

"Fuck, I've missed you."

"Missed you too," you soothed.

Slowly, his head turned and he started leaving kisses up the side of your neck, to your jaw, the side of your face, the corner of your mouth...

"This okay?" he asked, tracing the same sensual path on the other side of your neck.

"You're not thinking straight, Carm," you hummed, not making any effort to move away from his reach, carding your hands through his hair and bringing him closer instead. "You're angry. And sad."

It was so easy to forget that a few years had passed and this wasn't the Carmy you knew and cared for back in Copenhagen, not anymore.

"I'm tired of fucking thinking," he slurred, running his hands over your sides hungrily. "I want things to go quiet just for a while."

You melted, his hands breaking down whatever small resolve you had.

"Okay," you agreed, dragging him by the neck to press your lips against his.

Carmy gave you desperate kisses as he cornered you against the wall. He cupped your breasts over your dress, humming appreciatively at the low neckline.

"You look so fucking nice," he growled.

His left hand bunched up the side of your dress, trying to caress your leg. You giggled.

"Don't remember you being ticklish" he remarked, cocking his head.

"I'm not," you guided his right hand up your opposite thigh, to the high slit of your dress, giving him plenty of access without bunching up the dress.

"Fuck," Carmy groaned, his calloused hands quickly finding the edge of your lace panties. "Can I -?"

You nodded eagerly, taking his hand and looking at the new tattoos that adorned his skin.

"Please. I need your fingers," you whined.

Carmy didn't make you wait, pushing your underwear down your legs, caressing your pussy, already wet for him. He kissed your collarbone and the tops of your breasts while tracing lines between your folds, a low squelching sound coming from underneath your dress as he inserted two digits at once.

"Shit."

"My clit," you begged, angling your hips so his thumb pressed the exact spot.

He started moving, a quick and unforgiving rhythm making you melt in his arms, rolling your hips and moaning, holding tight to his shoulders to stand upright.

"Close?" he rasped.

"So fucking close."

"Will you let me fuck you against the wall after you cum?" he asked low.

It was like he flipped a switch and suddenly your pussy was fluttering around his fingers. He covered your mouth with his free hand, muffling your cries of pleasure.

"Fuck, Carmy," you panted, holding the wall for support while he unbuckled his belt.

"Shit," he stopped in his tracks and started going through the coats and jackets that were hanging on the opposite wall.

"Carm? What are you doing?"

"Just a sec," he mumbled. Once he found an informal leather jacket, he started going through its many pockets. "Come on, Richie," he whispered, then smiled in triumph as he took out a condom from the inside pocket.

"Should I ask?" you grinned, entertained watching Carmy unbutton his trousers, pump himself and roll the condom on.

"Better not," he stood in front of you, one of your arms rounded his shoulders, your free hand held his cock.

"You've always been a handful," you said - the flirtatious play on words taking you back years ago, to Copenhagen, and the first time he fucked you.

"Hmm," he closed his eyes in pleasure, completely at your mercy as you lined him up to your pussy.

He pushed lightly, an inch, then another. You whined at the stretch. "You okay?"

"It's good, so good," you managed, holding on to his shoulders, "just go slow."

Carmy nodded, the gentle movement of his hips like the swaying boat where you so often had shared a bed. You were letting out needy sounds and muffling them into your hand, as he got deeper and deeper. You encouraged him, bringing him closer by squeezing his ass, scratching at his pale skin until he was buried inside you to the hilt.

"Carm..."

He stayed still for a moment, kissing you tenderly.

"Need this," he mumbled against your lips. "Need you."

"Yeah?" you teased, circling your hips, making him moan. "How much?"

"A lot," he said, hips moving backwards slowly, his cock almost all the way out. Then, he drove back into you, quick, hard. You bit your lip to silence a high pitched moan. "A lot - a lot."

He grabbed your thighs, pressing you against the wall, lifting you.

"Fast and hard?" you suggested. You usually liked to take your time but fucking inside a closet - albeit a fancy one - asked for practicality and speed. And Carmy needed to blow off some steam.

He nodded, speechless as he started building a quick pace, driving into you like his life depended on it. You held him close, resorting to bite on the shoulder pad of his suit jacket to stay quiet.

"Wait," Carmy moved slightly, enough to press his forehead to yours and look down, hypnotized by the way his cock disappeared inside your pussy. Carmy's eyes widened, pupils blown and mouth half open. "Look at how well you take me. Even though it's been so long," he mumbled and you knew deep inside that it wasn't a line. He was truly dazed and euphoric that this was happening.

"Carm," you pleaded. "Let go for me, baby. I know you need it."

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Mhmm," he agreed, panting. "'m close."

You squeezed your pussy around his cock, watching with satisfaction as that simple effort made him lose control, rutting messily, soft grunts leaving his lips as he came hard.

"Shit," he cursed, his lips on the side of your face.

You exhaled, content, as he let you down, landing on one foot then the other. Your heels were on the floor, somewhere, lost while your legs shook around Carmy's waist. "Better? Stopped thinking for a bit?" you inquired a little cockily.

"Not sure where we are right now, to be honest," he drawled.

"Good."

[sauntervaguelydown]

Love & Pratchett

The thing about Terry Pratchett is that he wrote about people falling in love plenty, but he never wrote about what I'd call typical romance. When love is sincere and profound it is also very... understated. Practical. Sybil & Vimes--his most famous couple--are like this. The demonstration of devotion is in small things, like wearing the horrible uncomfortable socks your wife made for you because she made them for you. There's a sense of the inevitable about them coming together.

In many cases you wouldn't know it was romance except that the recognizable formula of "boy and girl" picks it out. Look at Newt & Anathema in Good Omens--that's classic Pratchett. They barely exchange a romantic word and in fact it's almost out of Anathema's hands whether she's going to hook up with this absolute soyboy (affectionate). She's not really that nice to him. I always get the impression that the core of their connection is that they're bonded by this experience that no one else can understand. Bonding through shared experience (and even trauma) is a common theme in these subplots.

There's definitely a few showier romance plots, but they're always very tongue in cheek--for example, the literal Romeo & Juliet in Unseen Academicals where Juliet is a very good hearted but basically stupid girl and the POV character is her exasperated mom-friend. There's a lot of gags in the early Discworld novels about male and female characters who Have to fall in love because that's the way narrative works. It's not that they're doomed to be unhappy or even fake or anything, they're just not that deep. Mostly, monogamy is a mundane affair and not really the business of onlookers anyway. Admittedly, the female pov characters have a tendency to wish that things could be a bit more... dramatic. Look at Angua, she's always vaguely frustrated that her boyfriend doesn't react to their relationship with a bit more angst, but ultimately she's practical too. She just wants her partner to be a bit less practical for a moment.

I just reread Nation. Nation isn't a Discworld novel, but I think in a lot of ways it's the most condensed Terry Pratchett you'll ever find in one place. Two characters who are both clever to start with, and wise by the ending, have fallen in love with each other. It's never directly stated. No one confesses to anyone. They get teased about it a little by adults around them. They rescue each other, perform feats of unasked-for heroism on each other's behalf. And at the end, although they want to stay together, they choose their responsibility to their families--and to the future of the world--over staying together. There's one kiss on the cheek as a farewell. But you know that they're still thinking of each other, because at the end of the timeline despite living worlds apart their entire lives, they ask to be buried together.

This is, in my estimation, is the most romantic thing in the Terry Pratchett catalogue. If I can be forgiven for pretending to know the mind of a stranger, I think this is what he found the most romantic. It really is just a profound friendship, between two people who maybe don't always understand each other but always respect each other. Sex really is just a bonus thing, it's nice and certain characters (Angua, Carrot come to mind) pretty clearly have a good time with it, but it's sort of taken for granted. Even kissing isn't all that important. You can't really tell who's in love with who in a Pratchett novel just by looking for physical demonstrations of affection.

Anyway, over the years of Good Omens discourse, this has been the main thing that informs my reading of Aziraphale & Crowley. I'm not widely read in Gaiman material, so I can't speak to that, but from a Pratchett-canon lens, Aziraphale and Crowley fit the vibes of a romantic relationship pretty well. The shared experience, the sense that only they really can understand each other because no one else has seen what they've seen. The heroic gesture of Crowley in the burning shop--the respect that they have for each other, despite the occasional bitching--the "ah. so it's like that." observation of people around them. And most of all, the way they come back together at the end of the novel in a poetic but understated moment, because coming back together of your own free will and going forward together is possibly the most romantic thing that a couple can do in a Pratchett novel.

[cookingmamatwo-dinnerwithfriends]

a proper meeting || theodore nott x reader

a/n: ur still a girl sorry. pt 2 to before you meet. we're slowburning this shit man

ever since that afternoon in the courtyard he found himself thinking about that girl constantly. he didn't know who she was. he knew that she was friends with luna lovegood, so maybe he could ask her. but he'd rather not go to the one person that would definitely tell you that he was asking after you. he decided to ask malfoy one night while they were sitting in the slytherin common room.

"do you remember that girl in the courtyard? with the paper bird?" he asked malfoy nonchalantly.

"loony lovegood?" malfoy peered at his friend skeptically.

"no, um...the other one."

"the mudblood?"

"don't call her that," theo snapped before he could stop himself. "do you know her name?"

malfoy scoffed at him before answering, "(y/n) (l/n). why? do you like her?" he asked mockingly.

"and what if i do? what's it to you?"

"i care about who my friends are seen with. and you really shouldn't be surrounding yourself with mud-" theo shot him a look and malfoy stopped to correct himself with gritted teeth. "muggleborns. it reflects poorly on us all."

theo rolled his eyes and left the common room and went to his dorm. he went to bed that night thinking of the best way to finally get to know her.

*the next day, in slughorn's potions class (we're going the half-blood prince route)*

theodore was sat at a table with draco and blaise, waiting for class to begin. then, three more people walked into the classroom. harry potter, ron weasley, and (y/n) (l/n), along with professor mcgonagall.

"professor slughorn, these students will be joining your N.E.W.T. level course if that's alright," she announced.

"the more the merrier!" slughorn said merrily, then addressing the three new students. "alright then, sit wherever you'd like."

harry and ron immediately went to the table with hermione and (someone else idk, probably terry boot whoever the fuck that it, just, there's FOUR PEOPLE AT A TABLE) while (y/n) was left gazing around the room for an empty seat. she spotted the one at the slytherin table, but seemed hesitant. when it was clear that there were no other seats available, she made her way to the table and sat in the empty seat next to theodore.

theodore's heart was beating fast as she got her supplies for the class out. draco looked at him mischievously, and theo could only hope that he didn't say anything uncouth towards her. instead of mocking her, draco did something that was far worse in theo's eyes.

"well this is lovely, weren't you asking me about (y/n) just yesterday nott?" draco asked slyly. theo's eyes widened at draco and he shot the blond boy a look that said "shut the fuck up!!!"

she looked between the two boys skeptically.

"oh no, don't worry (l/n), it was all good things." malfoy drawled, smirking at theo. "it was after he couldn't stop staring at you in the courtyard."

she blushed and opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment slughorn began the lesson. (also no amortentia yet we can do that later hheheheheh)

theodore could hardly focus on the potion he was brewing during class. he was too distracted by her. her concentrated face as she chopped the ingredients and the faint flush on her face from the steam had theo borderline staring at her again. draco snickered to blaise as they both witnessed his weird behavior in front of her.

after class was finished, draco and blaise left quickly, leaving theo and (y/n) alone for a few moments.

"i'm sorry about malfoy..." theo said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "he likes to start shit."

"that's okay, i know what he's like," she answered, packing her things away. "he's usually a lot worse to me, so today was a nice change." she half-heartedly jokes.

"i'm theo, by the way," he said quickly, not wanting to lose his chance to finally introduce himself.

"yeah, i know," she said, before saying in a teasing tone, "you might not know this, but you're pretty popular. i'm (y/n)."

"i also already know who you are," he joked a little bit. "that's what draco was talking about earlier...i was asking for your name..."

"when you were staring at me?" she teased, although she was blushing. "well i'll see you tomorrow theo," she said softly, before exiting the potions classroom.

he stood there for a moment longer, before leaving to go back to his own dorm. once he got there he flopped on his bed. staring up at the emerald green curtain on his bed, he smiled to himself. he may have found one more reason for potions being his favorite class.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

hello hello! I may have a bit of an outstanding question but I thought why not ask you, the Good Omens blog on Tumblr, for some advice – I'm going to gift a friend of mine a copy of the books (she hasn't watched the show or read it yet) and I want to add a dedication but make it a bit funny and maybe with a little reference to the books but I've not one idea – do you have any suggestions on that? Or maybe someone from follow mutuals? I appreciate any idea :) <3

Hiya! :) When Neil and Terry autographed the book...

The only brand-new copies we would ever see were gifts, or replacements for copies borrowed by friends and never returned. "It's my sixth copy. The others never came back," people would tell us, with a mixture of pride and resignation. We would write HAVE A NICE DOOMSDAY on their books. Or one of us would write BURN THIS BOOK and the other, when he got it, APPLY HOLY MATCH HERE.

Perhaps Burn this book + apply holy match here in a reference how they did it? <3 (unfortunately I dont have it but I googled how it looked like :):)

[raayllum]

ok quick actual thoughts run down (spoilers for all 8 episodes)

The pacing of this season was interesting with certain episodes having almost no B plots and being largely A plots with some smatterings. 6x02 I think is the first and only episode that neither Callum nor Rayla appear in in the whole show. Sometimes this meant wondering when we'd get back to certain plots but I overall really liked it and I think I'm just gonna like it more and more on rewatches

Immediate standout episodes were 6x03 and 6x06 for me. Loved all of them of course

The season in some ways wasn't as heavy as I expected esp in the first half BUT things definitely ramped up in the 2nd half and I still cried

also Janai's early season breakdown + the Katolis story lore made me feel many things about her (and about future Rayllum set up maybe of course)

Zubeia going "your brother Ezran" to Zym killed me automatic tears thinking about it for days

Loved how Astrid and Kosmo were characterized and developed. And siblings!!

The characters I was most worried about dying (Aanya, Opeli) didn't and I am very happy

Knew Claudia would free Aaravos the second we knew we'd brought the wrong pearl, but was pleasantly surprised my prediction of "Callum and Claudia doing the same spell simultaneously in different locations" came true

There were also certain lines and concepts (like the quasar diamonds issue) that I was gobsmacked I got almost beat for beat. Also that damn staff - thank you!

6x08 unexpected win as a Sorpeli shipper I'll never ask for anything more what the Fuck

Gonna be chewing over Ezran and Karim's convo / end of Ezran feelings and throughout for a while

Loved all the Viren Soren stuff though outside of 6x05 nothing really got me Emotional there but maybe that'll change on rewatches

cannot Believe i'm going into season goddamn seven with CHET still on the table they need to free me from my misery I'm begging

Watching Karim not get the one W i was sure he'd get while having nothing but Ls was Funnier than it should've been

Very pleased if surprised to see Lujanne again

Aaravos' backstory was fucked up and I got it ("I cried for 100 years" plus her confusion really hurt)

The scene of Terry helping Claudia wash up left me like 😳 holy shit

also yes obviously loved all the Rayllum and "you're bad at doing things for yourself" (paraphrasing) and their reconciliation, felt very earned and natural. Also feels like we still have progress to be made for them and their dynamic which is nice

On that note Moon arcanum Callum didn't happen literally but the spirit of it that I always wanted (Rayla as his Constant Truth) DID happen so I'm taking that win so hard

The Orphan Queen totally has the Nova Blade in her tomb huh

Mutual salvation Rayllum theory I love you So Much

[blueberryismilk18]

can you please do hcs about Brad? (bistro huddy)

Hi!!! Thanks for being my first ever ask, don’t be afraid to ask for more, I wasn’t sure what kinda you wanted so I kinda assumed! I love this sassy man, tho I’m more of a Joey fan myself sorry it’s not that good again first time, I really hope you enjoy :3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓭༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Platonic:

Coworker:

🍨 Brad has to get feels someone's vibe before fully introducing himself, to which he thought you were chill and he liked that

🍨 From now on you guys are besties even outside of work you guys hang out

🍨 You guys playfully bicker all the time almost like him and Nichole but you were nicer to him about it (cough cough not changing his name on the system to dickface) 

🍨 please let this man rant about how annoying Terry, Tim, or Nichole is during yalls breaks

🍨 You’re guys friendship is one of the only good things in that horrible place

Customer: 

🍽️ Again like the first thing I said he needs to get to know your vibe, if he likes your energy then he'll tell you his name.

🍽️ In order for you guys to be friends you need to be a regular (Your poor wallet)

🍽️ Amber always makes sure to seat you in his section, one time thought in the very beginning or y'all's friendship Amber had seated you in Nichole’s section, he questions you so much on how you could even be friends with him (in more of teasing and playful way, but still comes off as rude) just to get under his skin

🍽️ Appreciates seeing you, again makes this job a little more bearable

Romantic🌹:

Coworker: 

🍰 Just like the platonic part that could be how you guys first started off. Until he noticed how much happy he felt when you'd be working the same shift and or hours as him.

🍰 Highlight of this sassy man's day

🍰 Nichole of course noticed it first, she would not stop giving him shit for a week. 

🍰 Eventually the kitchen caught wind of this and they would tease both of you when you guys were near each other, confusing you in the process

🍰 Bridgette and Aaron find out from pickles and that's where it all went down hill.. of course Aaron is the one who slips it by accident to you… Infront of Brad

🍰 Brad was pissed but didn't know what to say, he wasn't a baby of course but bro was actually too stunned to speak, Nichole started to laugh ngl

🍰 Let's just say Terry gave you guys a lecture about leaving “personal feelings at home”

🍰 You guys talked about it after work it went great. You guys started dating and you both got shit from Nichole (I love her guys) 

🍰 Now more into the headcanons part, let thisan rant about his day please, he cannot take it anymore he might lose it

🍰 Tim teases the shit out of both of you, while Pam is super sweet and always complementing you guys

🍰 Don't listen to Terry he's just a sad sad hater

🍰 The kitchen guys always tell Brad what a lucky guy he is to be dating someone as beautiful/handsome as you

Customer: 

🍷 Again you gotta be a regular

🍷 Give this man a big tip, your have his heart!/j 

🍷 But fr tho, be nice to the guy he's gotta deal with this red necks and rudeass customers

🍷 Over time he'll just love the company you give him, tells (begs) Amber to seat you always in his section

🍷 He can't help it! He really likes you but doesn't want to admit it first

🍷 You gotta ask that man out, he literally cannot refuse (go somewhere that isn't bistro huddy, he does not want to hear anything from them)

🍷 He's pretty much a very sweet boyfriend

🍷 Tries to spend a lot of time with you and uses some of his sick days to just take you out and stuff

🍷 I hope you enjoy eating most of your meals with stolen Bistro Huddy stuff! What a gentleman! 

🍷 most of his money comes from your tips!/j (just don’t be like Madge and Cybiel, maybe in private…)

[fangirlstorycreator]

CK Terry Silver X Reader

Context: You and Terry have always been very physical, but with work being so busy lately, there simply hasn't been enough time. That is, until he surprises you with a trip to Paris! And a few (Other) surprises once your there too....😏

This is written in request from @kimbergoldess, based on her picture on her tumblr page 💚

Contains: NSFW, s#xual content, s#xual intercourse, rough male #ral receiving, female #ral receiving, intimate toys, dirty talk, rough s#x, dom-sub (No Minors!)

Work work work, that's all that life seemed to be lately. You'd been running your own successful hair salon while your fiancee Terry had been running his own company, the Cobra Kai dojo. You yourself had been a sensei in the past and were tempted to ask Terry if you could join the dojo with him and John, but you didn't, worrying it would be stepping on his or John's toes. They built Cobra Kai together, and as much as you loved karate, you respected their friendship and wouldn't do anything to spoil that. The hair salon was an ok place to work, but you pretty much just did it to pay the bills. Terry, being Terry, had told you countless times that money wasn't an issue, and that you didn't have to work when bills at yours and his house was taken care of. But you were a strong and independent woman, and wanted to put something towards the home and your lives, you were the farthest thing from someone who would mooch of their partner for money. Infact, that's one of the first things Terry ever told you that he admired about you, and he loved that someone wanted to be with and around him because of who he was, not because of his money.

It was true, being with Terry was amazing, and every moment spent together was wonderful. It's just a shame that hasn't been the case as of late. With your salon being fully booked and Terry trying his hardest to keep John in check as well as the dojo, it felt like the hours spent having quality time with Terry during the week could all be counted on one hand. You tried your hardest not to let it get to you, but you loved him so much and would imagine him holding you, kissing your forhead and feeling his heartbeat as your head laid upon his chest. Those little things were so special to you. Plus, there were MANY occasions that you imagined you and Terry getting down and dirty! It had been about 3 weeks since you were both last intimate, and you could feel that tention down to your core. Terry was someone who worshiped your body like a goddess, took pleasure in your pleasure and would never fail in making you feel incredible. It's no wonder you would be sat in your salon office on your break sometimes, lost in imagination at the possibly of Terry surprising you at work, barging into your office and taking you right there on the desk.

Someone knocking on your door or the office phone ringing would shake you out of it, and a lot of the time, you hated when that happened. But at the end of the day, maybe this is what happens when work gets in the way, maybe there just isn't enough time to spend with the man you love, despite that being all you want in the world. That day, everyone had finished with their clients early and you decided to close for a half day, it would make a nice change to go home early for you and the rest of your staff. And maybe, you could make a nice dinner for Terry and try and spend some time with him this evening, it definitely felt like you needed him recently. However, to your suprise when you opened the front door to the house, you see Terry. Why wasn't he at work? He's just stood in the living room drinking a coffee and checking off a list with what looks like a suitcase.

"Sweetheart! I was about to come and get you from work!"

"Really? Why? And why do you have a suitcase?"

"I've been packing"

"Packing for?"

You were utterly lost, but Terry just smiled at you. Putting down his coffee, he walked over to you and cradled your face with his hands, leaning in and kissing you so deeply you felt a little dizzy one you both pulled away.

"Wow...it's been a while since you kissed me like that babe"

"I know sweetheart, and I'm sorry I haven't been doing that enough. Look, I know work's been keeping us apart these last few weeks and I haven't had a chance to spend some quality time with you and show you how much I love you and miss you, and that changes today"

"And that's why you decided to pack a suitcase?"

"It's why I'm taking you to Paris tonight"

"What?!"

"(Chuckles) Why so suprised sweetheart?"

"Well duh?! You just said Paris! You remember we live in LA right?"

"Yes I am fully aware. But my private jet can get us to Paris quicker than you can say Tu es l'amour de ma vie"

"Terry, babe, why Paris? And why do this in general?"

"Because you mean the world to me sweetheart. I want to show you how much I love you"

"Terry, you don't have to spend money on me to show me that"

"I know. But that doesn't mean I can't treat you with my money from time to time"

"And that's why you were going to pick me up from work? To suprise me with this trip?"

"I absolutely was. So? Do you want to get a suitcase ready? I've got mine done"

"But what about work? I can't just leave the salon without telling the staff or finding cover for myself"

"Don't you worry, I've already seen to that. I called Sadie, your salon deputy manager and asked her to keep the salon going while your away"

"Really?"

"Yes, and she sounded very happy to do that for you"

"Well...alright then! It would be nice to spend some time away with you babe"

"My thoughts exactly"

"By the way, what was that thing you said in French?"

"Tu es l'amour de ma vie. In english it means you are the love of my life"

"Awww Terry, your so sweet, and such a romantic"

"You bring that side out of me sweetheart"

Now it was you who gives him a kiss. Moving your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders, smiling as he leans down and you lock your lips with his. His kiss was warm, comforting and electrifying all at once, especially when his large, strong hands grip at your hips and hold your closer to his own body. Just these 2 kisses you have shared with Terry right now alone was more than either of you have felt in weeks, and both of you could feel the tention. Biting his own lip and looking down on you, he raised an eye and chuckled.

"I've seen that naughty look before Terry.. what're you planning?"

"Oh you'll see when we get to Paris sweetheart...now go and get packed and we can go as soon as your ready. Oh! And don't forget to bring that sexy little blue and black lingerie with you"

"Mmm? Planning on seeing me in it are you?"

"If by seeing it you, you mean me ripping it off with my teeth this evening..."

"Well then....I'll go and pack now..."

You say seductively, running your hand down his chest as you walk towards the stairs. You didn't see it, but Terry shivered, your touch was always intoxicating. You couldn't believe your luck! You were more than excited to be going away with your fiancee, and have some fun too! In Paris of all places! You started grabbing a few things when a thought suddenly occured to you, you didn't know how long you were going for, how much do you pack? Shouting downstairs to Terry, you say

"Babe?"

"Yes?"

"How long are we going away for? I just want to know how much to pack"

"I've booked us for 2 weeks"

"2 weeks?! I didn't think you'd wanna stay away from the dojo that long"

"I've been away from you long enough, if I could have made it a month I would have"

Aww he was so sweet. Now knowing how long your away for, you pack everything you'd need for that amount of time, plus that lingerie he asked for, it really was his favourite. For some reason, when you wore THAT lingerie, he almost turned feral in the bedroom, but you have never EVER complained. And seeing as it was going to be a fortnight, you grabbed a little black bag from your bedside drawer, with a new dress you bought for when you and Terry could have your next date night. Well, now it's going to be a date fortnight. Rushing downstairs with your suitcase, your full of smiles as you see Terry holding the door for you.

"I'll take the suitcases sweetheart, you get comfortable in the car"

He was such a gentleman. You gave him a little kiss on his cheek as you walk out the door and towards the car, even after years of being together, his fingertips lightly touched the cheek you kissed him, and he blushed all over. It was a very quick drive to the airport, and you know Terry told you he had a private jet but this! This thing was like something you see in a James Bond film! It was so fancy, large, and had a carpet leading up to the open door and what looked like a butler waiting to take the suitcases for us. The driver of the car dropped you and Terry right next to this plane and right next to the entrance, like you were going to a red carpet event. And despite you having your own driver, Terry was the one who got out and opened your car door, taking your hand as you stood out. Whenever there was a moment he could be a gentleman to you, he would take it. The man on the carpet welcomed you both in and you and Terry got comfortable and ready for take off, it was only a few minutes before you were already in the air and on your way to Paris. It was starting to get dark outside when you looked out of the window, and could see the lights start to come on in the streets and houses below. It hadn't occured to you how tired you actually were, and after your dinner on the jet with Terry, you tried your best to hide the yawns.

"Aww sweetheart, your tired?"

"Just a little"

"Why don't we get an early night? There's a private bedroom in the back that has everything we need, plus an ensuite that's just for us"

"But aren't we going to Paris tonight? I assumed we'd wait till we got there and crashed in a hotel?"

"Oh no no, that's definitely not happening. I have a private Villa waiting for us in Paris, we're not going to be cooped up in a hotel for two weeks. Plus, it's going to be quite a while till we reach Paris"

"Really? How long?"

"About 10 maybe 11 hours"

"Wow! I didn't realise it would be that long"

"Yes, but that's the good thing about having a private jet. When the plane journey IS long, there's no having to sleep in an awkward position in an upright chair, or next to a stranger who snores or drools. And definitely not having a stewardess wake you up to see if you would like a packet of peanuts, and even if you DO want some, half the bag is air"

"Something tells me you're much happier flying in this plane than normal ones babe"

"Absolutely sweetheart. Now, shall we get some sleep?"

"Just sleep?"

"Oh my sweet Y/N...I know your eager to spend time together, as I am too. But I can see your struggling to keep your eyes open, and trying to hide when you yawn. Trust me, when we're in Paris there will be ample opportunities for us to make up for lost time. And maybe, if your lucky....something a little fun to bring into the bedroom..."

"Ok, now I'm definitely curious!"

"And your definitely tired. Come on, let's get some sleep, and tomorow we will have some fun"

You knew you couldn't argue with him on this, even though you'd love to get down and dirty with him right now, you simply couldn't keep your eyes open. You both headed to the bedroom, which was surprisingly spacious. The bed looked so soft and warm, and very bouncy. Terry had started getting a few essentials out of his bag as you cured up on the bed, he had no idea that you had passed out mere seconds before he was about to turn to you and speak.

"Sweetheart? I seem to have forgotten my phone charger. Can I-"

He stopped in his tracks when he turned to see you fast asleep, curled up on the bed in such an adorable way. Tutting and smiling happily at you, he couldn't deny how much he loved you, in his eyes, you were perfect. He poped into your handbag and grabbed your charger, put his phone on charge, went to brush his teeth then came back and started getting undressed. Just down to his boxers, he didn't want to bother the staff with getting his silk dressing gown from his suitcase. He carefully pulled the quilt cover from under you, slid in beside and pulled the cover back up. He was the best and warmest big spoon ever, and even when you were fast asleep, you could sence he was there, and smiled through your sleepiness. Snuggling in and holding you in his arms, Terry very soon fell asleep too. What felt like a short nap later, you awake in Terry's arms, and then turn your head slightly to see him fast asleep while he's holding you.

You couldn't get enough of this man, he's absolutely amazing. Slipping out from his embrace and trying not to wake him, you climb out of the bed and tiptoe around to get your spare clothes from your large handbag. Then make your way into the unsuit to take a shower. You hadn't flown in a private jet before and were suprised to see a window in the shower cubicle, which was now shining lovely and bright with the blue sky. Who would have thought a nice hot shower above the clouds would be so peaceful and luxurious? You spent a good 30 minutes in there, and when you were finished you felt awake and refreshed. Terry was still asleep when you came back into the room, and your stomach started to rumble, so you slipped out when you were dressed to see if there was anything in the jet to snack on before you arrive. To your suprise, you only had to walk a few feet before the air hostess walked up to you pushing a shiny silver trolley, laden with fresh fruits, warm pastries, bacon and eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice and piping hot coffee.

"Good morning miss L/N, did you and mr Silver sleep well?"

"Yes we did thank you. Well, Terry's still asleep"

"Wonderful. Well, I was about to knock on the door to bring you this, unless you'd like me to come back later?"

"Nope, that's alright. I can bring it in if that's alright?"

"Of course, do let me know if there's anything else you need"

"Thank you, uhh?"

"Milly"

"Milly, lovely name"

"Thank you miss L/N"

"Please, call me Y/N"

When you brought the trey into the bedroom, Terry was still asleep, but he had rolled over since you left, and he was now lead on his back, in just his boxers. You couldn't take your eyes off him, lying there looking so damn good, you wondered if it was the food making it steem up in hear instead of your older and smoking hot fiancee spread out on the bed like the silver fox that he was. When you began to pour a coffee for you and him, Terry started to stir and sat up in the bed, rubbing his face in his hands to wake himself up a little.

"Morning gorgeous"

"Good morning sweetheart. I didn't know you were awake?"

"Yeh, I woke up about an hour ago. Milly the lovely lady who's our air hostess was sweet and made us a breakfast platter, with fresh coffee too"

"That's great, I could do with a coffee"

As he sat up and on the edge of the bed, you came and sat beside him, handing him his coffee and taking a sip of your own.

"Oooohhh that's good coffee, thank you sweetheart. Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked so peaceful, and noone told us we're there yet so I let you sleep in. It's not just me who's been working very hard the last few weeks, you clearly needed it"

"I suppose you have a point"

He took another sip of coffee, and you couldn't help but admire him. His messy long silver hair, his braud chest, his strong thighs as he wears just his boxers.

"What are you staring at sweetheart?"

"Just my gorgeous fiancee"

"Gorgeous? Like this?"

"If I was sat on this bed wearing just my bra and underwear with messy bed hair, wouldn't you be thinking the same thing?"

"Touche (chuckles)"

He reached over and put his coffee down when your hand slid across the cover and started to feel up and down his rock hard thigh, warm to the touch and so muscular.

"Mmm, like me like this do you?"

"Oh yeh Terry, I don't want to keep my hands off you..."

"Then don't..."

Without warning, he grabs your hips and pulls you onto his lap, right before spinning himself with you and lying you back on the bed. With him now both leaning on top of you and his hips placed perfectly inbetween your legs. His kiss was hungry, and his tounge had a slight coffee taste, but you didn't mind in the slightest. With your hands on his shoulder and his running up your thigh, it had been so long since he touched you like this that you wanted him to take you then and there. Hot! And dirt-

"Mr Silver? Miss L/N? We are about 20 minutes from landing"

Oh god damn it! Why of all times did someone have to knock and interrupt?!

"Thank you Milly, we'll be out shortly"

Terry shouted as he huffed, disappointment in his face as he climbed back off you and sat at the end of the bed. You sat up too, and both shared an embarrassed yet annoyed look.

"Well...seems we're going to have to wait...again"

You say, feeling deflated. You'd have taken Terry then and there if you had the chance. His heart broke when you said that, and he couldn't help but hold your face and kiss you, still lingering a little when he pulled away.

"We'll have all the time we want when we're in Paris sweetheart. Having our own Villa, pool, jacuzzi, balcony...bedroom...and much more"

"While that all sounds amazing babe, and I'm going to enjoy every moment...if Milly hadn't interrupted us I would have probably would've destroyed you and this bed"

"Mmmm...(kiss) And I would have savored every....single...second...(kiss) Now why don't you pack up your stuff, and I'll grab a shower. By the time were both done it should be time to get our seatbelts back on"

He stood and walked towards the unsuit, and you couldn't help but check out his perfect tight ass.

"I'd rather be wearing your belt...it was always surprisingly comfortable when you tied my hands in it"

"Hmhm...I can't wait to get you into that Villa and back on your knees..."

"Is that a promise?..."

Terry simply smirked, and gave you a devilish look, it was the look that always made you melt. And just as planned, Terry took a shower and you packed your things you used in the flight. You had sat back in the middle of the jet and poped your belt on when Terry was finishing up, and that's where Milly came by and offered you a drink.

"Hear we are Y/N"

"Thanks Milly"

A few moments later, Terry comes and takes a seat beside you, putting on his belt and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"You ready for Paris sweetheart?"

"More than ready Terry, it'll be so nice to get away from the stress of work for a while. What's the plan when we land?"

"Well I have a chauffeur waiting for us when we land, it's just gone 9 am so we can get him to drive us to a lovely restaurant on the shore line"

"What for babe?"

"Well, we were served breakfast. But we got kind of caught up in another matter, remember?"

"There's no way I'm forgetting"

"(Chuckles) Well, once we've had something to eat, it will take a while to drive to the Villa, so we should unpack, maybe take a nice stroll along the beach, see some of the wildlife and...."

"And?...."

"And then come back for some well deserved, and definitely uninterrupted quality time together. And trust me, it's going to be worth the wait"

"It's always worth the wait babe, it's you"

"Your so sweet, and you know I feel exactly the same way. However...I do have a little suprise waiting for us in the Villa"

"Oooo! What is it?"

"Ah ah ah, I can't tell you. Your going to have to....be a good girl..."

"And what if I'm a really bad one?....."

"Even better..."

Time seemed to go by so quick when you and Terry got off the flight, people took your bags, drove you hear and there, and you had never had an airport visit this smooth and calm before. You've always had bad experiences at the airport, flights getting cancelled, loosing luggage or being sat next to a (Karen) who would complain about EVERYTHING! But with Terry, it was smooth sailing. You both did indeed stop by a nice place for breakfast. It wasn't 5 star, and you were happy about that, you wanted something normal and down to earth. It was just a simple boulangerie that has these beautiful scents of freshly backed baguettes and pain au chocolat, it was amazing. You and Terry shared a fresh baguette with butter, you and him simply tore the bread apart as it was still warm out of the over and spread a little butter on it, how can something to simple be so delightful? Then you and Terry drove to the Villa, which looked like it had been hand carved out of white marble! This place was enormous! And so spacious, and clean, and open, the list of how amazing this place is was endless! By the time you and Terry had unpacked and got settled, it was about time for dinner, and he had mentioned a beautiful little restaurant a short walk down the beach from outside the Villa. How could anyone refuse that? As Terry got dressed, so did you, and you had the perfect dress for it, the one from your drawer in the little black bag. Along with these cute heals and the bracelet Terry got you for your anniversary, it was perfect. When he came into the bedroom, he was wearing his gorgeous greyish/white suit, despite us walking along a beach to get to this restaurant.

"Are you ready sweethe-"

The moment you turned around, Terry's mouth was agape and his eyes couldn't move from you if they tried.

"So? What do you think? Do I look nice?"

"Sweetheart....aphrodite herself would be jealous at the sight of you"

"Aww your so sweet, thank you babe. You look so handsome. I'll never get bored of seeing you in your grey suit"

"Oh I know it's your favourite"

"Hmmm? There is just one thing missing"

"What's that?"

You smile, walking to him and running your hands up his chest to his neck, your touch made Terry melt and he could never hide that. He'd put his hair up in a ponytail, but he has had it like that for so long, and he isn't at work now. Snaking your hands behind his neck, you pull at his hair and release all of those beautiful silver curls.

"There"

You say running your fingers through his hair, making it bounce around his head and fit perfectly to his face.

"Now you look perfect"

"You know....I do know you prefer my hair down"

"So was this just an excuse you made for me to play with your hair?"

"That was part of it...this was the other part..."

His hands grip your hips and he pulls you close to his body, locking his lips with yours and savouring your touch, your taste and scent with each second. Your hands held his shoulders, one moving to his cheek and the other sliding around and pressing it to his back, any excuse to feel those toned muscles of his.

"I'm so happy I've got you for 2 whole weeks with noone to disturb us"

"Oh I agree babe, and there have been a few that I can count. Thank you so much for bringing me hear"

"No need to thank me, anything for you. Come on then sweetheart, let's me show you the way to the restaurant"

The walk to the restaurant was wondeful, the sun was still in the sky, the water was lapping at yours and Terry's feet as you held your shoes and walked hand in hand with him down the sand. The air was warm and you could smell the ocean, picture perfect. The restaurant was on the beach, but still looked 5 star, this was Terry after all, if he was the one booking, he'd always get the best. It was beautifully furnished, has wonderful flowers scattered around and a lobster tank in the background, you had only been to these kinds of places with Terry. Before meeting him, the best you'd get was probably a 2, maybe 3 star place at best. A table was already booked and the waiter brought you and Terry over, and again, Terry being a gentleman, he pulled your chair out for you and kissed you before sitting down himself.

"Bonsoir madame et monsieur. Puis-je t'offrir quelque chose à boire? (Good evening madam and sir. Can I get you something to drink?)

"Ah oui. Nous aimerions une bouteille de votre meilleur champagne, s'il vous plaît" (Ah yes. We would like a bottle of your finest champagne, if you please)

"Bien sûr monsieur, je vais y veiller tout de suite" (Of course sir, I will see to it right away)

The waiter happily went back to the bar while you looked at Terry with amusement.

"Wow babe, I didn't know you were fluent in French"

"Yeh, I had to learn to speak it and write it when I was making some business deals in Paris"

"You've made deals hear?"

"Of course, hense why I was able to get such a nice place for us to live in while we stay hear"

"Nice place? Terry we're pretty much staying in a castle!"

"Does that make you my princess?"

"Only of your my knight in shining armour"

"Mhm...I think I can be that and more for you"

He said in his deep and sexy gravelly voice, taking your hand and planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. When the waiter returns, he opens the champagne for you both and pours it out one by one. Letting you both cling your glasses and take a sip first, the waiter was patient before asking Terry what he would like to order from the menu.

"Que souhaitez-vous commander monsieur?" (What would you like to order sir?)

"Puis-je avoir le saumon grillé avec un risotto au citron?" (May I have the grilled salmon with lemon risotto?)

"Bien sûr, c'est un excellent choix, monsieur. Et pour vous madame?" (Of course, that's a great choice sir. And for you madam?)

Terry was about to lean over to you and ask what you would like, but little did he know, you had a surprise for him.

"Sweetheart-"

"Je voudrais le poitrine de poulet épicée avec une salade grecque s'il vous plaît. S'habiller sur le côté" (I would like the spicy chicken breast with greek salad please. Dressing on the side)

"Ah! C'est un favori de beaucoup de nos clients. Excellent choix, je reviendrai avec vos repas" (Ah! That is a favourite for our customers, great choice. I shall be back with your meals)

The waiter smiled as he walked away and straight to the kitchen with the order. Terry leaned on the table, looking at you, almost astonished.

"I didn't know you spoke French so well sweetheart? You didn't tell me you were fluent too"

"Well I'm not fluent, but I did take a French course when I was in college many years ago. I could tell by that look in your eye that you thought I didn't know what the waiter was saying"

"Well I won't lie, yes I did think that. But you really suprised me"

"I like to suprise you any time I can. I like keeping you on your toes"

"(Whispers) And I like keeping you on your back... or your knees...or the wall if the occasion calls for it..."

"Oooh Mr Silver....you do know how to talk to a lady..."

"My lady....your going to be aalll mine tonight..."

"I'd better be....I know we're flirting hear Terry, and I love it! But I've got to be honest, while I'm looking forward to this time with you hear in Paris, I'm not looking forward to going home"

"Oh sweetheart, why? What's making you feel so upset about going back?"

"Because there's a chance this could happen all over again"

"What? Me wisking you away for a holiday?"

"No...us not being able to spend quality time together like this unless there is a holiday. I miss you so much Terry. I miss having dinner with you when you get home from work, I miss us falling asleep together in eachothers arms instead of one of us being fast alseep while the other comes home late from work. I miss talking to you, hearing your voice, your touch, the way you would hold me in a warm hug when you'd come home and kiss my forhead. Those little things really matter to me, and.... I feel like I'm loosing that"

"Oh sweetheart I'm so sorry you've been feeling like this. (reaches over and holds your hand) Why haven't you told me how you've been feeling? You know I'd listen to any worries you have"

"With work, it's been so busy for both of us that there just isn't any time to discuss this with you. And I would have no idea how to even begin to tell you"

"Well you have tonight, I'm so sorry you've had to go through this on your own sweetheart. I love you. I love you so much, and I've been missing you too, it's been driving me crazy not being able to spend any time with you while the dojo's been a nightmare"

"I'm sorry babe, I feel like I've put a downer on the whole evening"

"No no you haven't, trust me. Infact, there maybe a solution to our problems"

"And what would that be?"

"It starts with a question, and I want you to be completely honest with me ok?"

"Ok"

"Do you enjoy working in the salon?"

"Well it pays the bills when-"

"No no, I didn't ask if it pays some of the bills. Do you really enjoy working there? Tell me the truth"

"I....ok I won't lie, I don't. I took the job to show you that I can work, and I'm not someone who will mooch of anyone, especially you"

"I know that, I know your not with me for my money sweetheart. And thank you for being honest with me"

"So what solution did you have in mind for our issues?"

"Come and work at Cobra Kai with me"

"Wait-what?"

"I've been wanting to ask you for a few months now, I want you to work at Cobra Kai with me"

"But Terry, that's yours and John's company, I wouldn't want to be a spanner in the works with something you and John created"

"You wouldn't be that Y/N, I want you to be a sensei. Just like you were back in the day. Think about it, we'd be seeing more of eachother, you'd be back in a career you enjoy, you'd still have a paying job, and you would actually be enjoying your time at work. John does his own thing in the dojo, but I want you there. What are your thoughts?"

"I can't deny there's a lot more pros than cons with this idea Terry, and while I am very tempted to say yes straight away, what does John say about this? And who would take over the salon?"

"I've already asked John, and he's more than happy to have you work with us. In fact, he said having a feminine touch around the place would make the dojo better. Plus he remembers how you used to teach, and there are some students who would thrive so much better under your care. And as for the salon, why don't you interview some people for the job role? Maybe even your deputy manager? She sounded so excited to be put in charge while you were coming hear"

"That is a good point, and she does get on really well with the rest of the staff there. And your sure John doesn't mind me being there?"

"He would love to have you there. Plus, it will stop us getting into as many arguments as we do. Whenever we have a spat when your around, it's like you have this power to make everything calm again"

"Do you think that's something to do with the fact that you and John squabble like a couple of children who both want the same toy?"

"You can read me and John like a book. (Chuckles) So? What do you say?"

"Can I think about first? I wanna make sure I'm certain about this, it is a big change after all"

"Of course sweetheart, take all the time you need. I love you"

"I love you too"

A few short minutes later, the waiter arrives with yours and Terry's food, steaming and smelling incredible. Your dinner was to die for, and both of you shared in eachothers plates, tasting his salmon and him your chicken. It was such a wonderful evening, this was just what you were wanting with Terry. Quality time together to talk, laugh, smile and just be a couple again, it's amazing how important these things are in life. Once you left the restaurant, you both walked back down the beach again, hand in hand as the sunset was on the horizon, right above the water line in the sea, beautiful. Yours and Terry's fingers interlocked when you walked, how was his touch so addictive? When you were outside your Villa, there was this cute little machine that washed all the sand off your feet before entering the house, and of course because Terry was rich, he made sure the water was warm as it washed the sand away. You'd only ever seen this kind of thing on public beaches, and it was freezing cold with a difficult contraption to use in order to actually get the sand off. Terry's one was much better, and you felt comfort when you went back into the house with him, bare feet on cool white marble. He took you to the kitchen where he poured you a drink, he had saved some champagne on ice, and some strawberries to put into the glass too. Handing you a glass, he says

"To a wonderful holiday"

"Cheers"

Taking a sip, the drink was cold and crisp, the bubbles danced on your tounge and the flavour lingered in your mouth long after swallowing it down. After you have another sip, you notice Terry looking at you in an intriguing way, like your the only thing in the world that matters. But there's something else in his eyes too, a little devilish, and hungry.

"Shall we....get an early night Terry?"

"(Chuckles) Well sweetheart...before we do...I want to show you something..."

"Oh really?...lead the way..."

Taking your hand in his, he leads you down the hallway, up the stairs and to a door down the end of the hall. But it was strange...all the doors in the Villa were white, this one was red. He stopped you just outside the door.

"Now sweetheart. I know we haven't been intimate for quite some time now"

"Which begs the question as to why you aren't already in the bedroom now with half your clothes off"

"Patients...trust me it will be worth the wait. I know neither of us are strangers to adding a little spice to the bedroom, including toys...So behind this door I have bought a whole host of naughty things we could use tonight...if that's what you'd like?"

"You had me at spice!"

"Mhm...plus, I know how you like me to...suprise you in the bedroom too...so my thoughts were, you go in and have a look around. There is a black box in there, and if there is anything you want to use on me, or have used on you, just put it in the box....and wait for me in the bedroom while I prepare everything for you..."

"Ok, you have NO idea how turned on I am just by you telling me this, let alone actually doing it yet"

"I know you sweetheart, I know exactly what to do to make you mine...so why don't you go in, see what you like, and then we'll take it from there"

"You don't need to tell me twice"

Terry waits outside as you enter, and holy sh#t! This was a playroom and a half! This makes Christian Grey look like a virgin! Terry knows you so well, he knows the kind of toys that always get the job done, multiple times! Taking a look around the room, heat begins to build inbetween your legs seeing all these things Terry could use on you, or vice a versa. To be honest, you just wanted to get RAILED tonight, with these things around that was definitely gunna happen.You find vibrating toys for you, hand cuffs of the fluffy black kind, a sexy black laced blindfold and-wait...what was that against the wall? Peeking your interest, you walk over and see this black mannequin, with a collar attached to it, but it's no ordinary collar . Seeing 3 different chaines all looped together, you pull at the bottom one...and oh hell yes! This was definitely going in the black box!

(Note for reader: I couldn't find one with a womans hand, so just ignore that it's a mans hand doing this 😁🤦‍♀️)

"There was nothing else in hear that you needed, to be honest just Terry on his own would have been fine, but when this kind of stuff comes out to play....oooooh we were both in for a looong night. Putting everything in the black box, you see a little note beside it, picking it up, it read

{My beautiful enchantress, I am going to take my time with you tonight and savour every part of your body in any way I can. I look forward to using whatever you choose on you, but I do have a question. On the table is a pen, and with that you can write what you would like. The choices are

Your dom, I'm sub

I'm dom, your sub

Safe word RED, or two firm taps to the legs

Safe word Dojo, one firm tap to the legs

I'll read this paper once you leave, and prepare the items in this box for you shortly...depending on which one you'll choose, I'll either see you in the bedroom sat on the bed, or on your knees...I love you beautiful}

Some people in other relationships might not do what you and Terry like to do, choose what's going to happen instead of just jumping into bed together. But surprisingly, you find this really exciting. While you and Terry do have your fair share of just jumping into bed together, this was a whole new level, one that made you weak to the knees. It was the anticipation, the tention, being this seductress or being seduced by him, it was very sexy and you loved your heart racing and the giddy feeling that came with this too. Terry adored you, worshiped the ground you walk on, but on the other hand, you loved being his dirty little sl#t. Knowing exactly what you want, you tick the 2nd and 3rd pullet point and headed out to the door. You knew the RED safe word mean't he would be a little rougher, so of course you had to pick that! It had been at least 3 weeks after all! When you close the door behind you, Terry was leaning against the wall, and he could see you blushing with a grin across your face.

"I'll see you in the bedroom sweetheart...and don't forget that sexy little blue and black lingerie set you packed"

"No need to forget...I'm already wearing it..."

Blowing him a kiss as you head to the bedroom upstairs, Terry can't help but watch you leave, checking you out and running his hand over his chin, trying not loose control and take you right there on the staircase. He slips into the red door just as you enter the bedroom, and a tidal wave of excitement washes over you, eagerly imagining the expression on his face when he sees what's in the box, and that you want HIM incharge, it was exhilarating. As quick as a flash you undress so now your just down to your lingerie, putting a pillow on the floor to kneel on and pressing your back a little against the bottom of the bed, ready and waiting for him. You could hear slow footsteps coming up the stairs, he didn't normally walk that slow, so you know he was just trying to tease you. Closer, and closer he came, the door handle slowly turned, and in he walked, holding now a small black bag of what you chose. He had changed his outfit too. Instead of the sweet fiancee with his long hair down and flowing freely, in his grey/white suit and a warm smile. He wore black. Black trousers, black belt, shirt and jumper, black was what he wore when he wanted to be incharge of you. His hair was tied back into his ponytail, a devilish smirk plastered on his face as he stalks a little closer.

"(Chuckles) Ahh...look at you...all ready for me to use you...isn't that right? I can use you anyway I like baby girl?"

You can't help but nod, the excitement was too much. Terry knelt down to you, taking your chin in his hand, making you look at him.

"You'll have to use your words...can I use you anyway I want?..."

"Yes"

Sliding his hand to your throat, he squeezes ever so slightly.

"I can't hear you...a little louder for me..."

"Yes Terry"

"(Chuckles) good girl...'

His hand moves from your throat, gently cupping your cheek for a moment, his eyes are gentle and warm.

"You remember the safe word?"

"Yes, it's red"

"Good, and the ones you ticked on the paper, that's still what you want?"

"Absolutely"

"Alright then sweetheart"

Leaning in and giving you a kiss, you loved that he was always so loving to you and made sure you were always comfortable with what he will do. He stood back up, and there was that dark devilish look again, this was dom Terry now. He reached into the black bag, and pulled out the special collar you chose, and heat began to build up straight away.

"Does my little sl#t want me to put this around her delicate little neck? Hmm?"

"...Yes Terry..."

"What do you say?"

"Please Terry"

"Good girl...."

Kneeling down, he puts the neclace around your neck, and the second it's on, he pulls at the bottom chain, just like you did in the room and he has pulled you in to his face, his lips inches away from yours. You were already so wet, and you couldn't contain the excitement on your face, Terry loved every moment of this.

"I think good girls deserve a kiss...have you been a good girl?"

"...."

He pulls the chain harder, ever so slightly squeezing, but it wasn't enough to cut off your complete air supply, only just the slightest.

"I said...have you been a good girl? Because if you haven't, you don't get my tounge in that beautiful mouth...you get this..."

Terry said in a deep seductive voice, unzipping his trousers and pulling at his belt buckle.

"I-I've been a bad girl..."

"Oh have you? Tst tst tst....looks like I'm going to have to show you what bad girls get..."

The moment he stood up, the chained collar ever so slightly untightened and you watched as he pulled off his jumper and shirt. But the moment he reached into his trousers with his free hand and pulled out his rock hard, and pulsating c#ck, he pulls on the chain again. Bringing you up a little higher and making you face his goin, exposed c#ck directly infront of you. Letting his trousers fall a little, he slips the chain under himself so he's holding it from behind, his hand now behind his backside and the chain inbetween his legs and under his c#ck. He looked deep into your eyes, his free hand now running through your hair.

"This is what bad girls get..."

And without warning, he makes a fist into your hair, causing you to gasp. And the second you gasped, he pulled the chain and shoved his c#ck straight into your mouth, pulling the chain, and Your hair back and forth, making you take him in and out, not having any control over what he does.

"Oh that's it...suck my c#ck like the dirty little sl#t you are"

Each time he pulls your hair back, then pulls the chain so he's back inside your mouth, felt like inbetween your legs was on fire, yet so wet. Over and over again you sucked him, hard, circling your tounge around the tip when he pulled your hair. But his pace was quickening, and he was going ever so more into your mouth, and down your throat.

"I love the noises your making when you suck my c#ck babygirl...oh f#ck...I'm going to use you any way I like, aren't I? Say it...say yes with me in your mouth..."

With just the tip in your mouth when he stops for a moment, you try your best to say yes with it in your mouth, but the second you start to make a sound, he pulls the chain hard, and slides his full length down your throat, cutting off any air you have, being completely full of him. His grunts or sexual pleasure when he does this just adds to the excitement, you can't breath, he's choking you with his c#ck, and yet your so f#cking wet and want more. Once he pulls out, you gasp for air as he smiles down on you.

"Aww you poor thing, you couldn't say anything could you?"

Again, he only gives you that moment before he pulls the chain again and forces himself back into your mouth and down your throat, this time going deep, in and out, not being able to breath as he pumps into you, chocking you with his enormous c#ck

"Oh f#ck that's it! You take me like such a good little slut. Oh yeh that's it...take it all"

You rememberd when you ticked the paper in the play room, saying safe word red and two firm taps to the legs. The word was for when you could speak, and the leg tapping was for when you couldn't, and couldn't breath either. If you did tap his legs twice, he'd stop immediately, but you didn't. Yes you couldn't breath right now, but the lack of oxygen strangely made it more s#xual intense, but you did know your limit, and so did Terry. He pulled out, you kneel there gasping for air once again with tears running down your cheeks.

"You look so pretty when your filled with me...take a deep breath for me baby girl, just one final time..."

His hand in your hair manoeuvres your head so your mouth is directly infront of his cock, and once you take a deep breath, he's straight in again, sliding completely down and making you take every single inch of him. He moved back and forth against your face, faster, harder, hearing the sounds of you choking on him, is was like music to his ears.

"Oh f#ck! You feel so good! Tell me you like me doing this baby....are you gunna tell me? No? That's right you can't, because your so full of me...oh take...every...f#cking...inch!"

Just when your feeling light headed and are thinking of doing the tapping put, Terry pulls himself out and allows you to breath. You gasped and coughed, taking in the sweet oxygen you were desperate for. Terry instantly knelt down to you again, still holding the chain but locking his lips with yours and kissing you hard, sliding his tounge into your mouth like he was trying to pull yours out. It was a hungry kiss, he devoured your lips and tounge like never before.

"Now that....was perfect. You were such a good girl taking me like that....and good girls deserve a reward..."

This time, he let's go of the chain and helps you up by taking your hand, only to push you onto the bed where you land on your back. Climbing on top of you, he leans down and kisses you, slowly, slipping in his tounge again. His hands grab your wrists and pin them above your head against the pillow, where he then pulls out the black fluffy handcuffs from behind him.

"This is what you get for taking me so well..."

Taking them, he cuffs one of your wrists, loops the chain around the bed frame and cuffs your other hand too. Now you had no way of escaping, your hands were chained to the bed, and Terry was going to have his way with you. He leans down and kisses your neck, running his tounge down your soft skin, making you gasp. Your eyes close instinctively and you want to much to grab his shoulders and pull him closer, but you instead struggle against the cuffs, this was both pleasure and torture. He stops, leans up so he's on his knees, looking down on you.

"Let's make this interesting...."

He says in that sexy voice again, this time revealing the black laced blindfold and playing with it infront of you. He leans down once again, kissing you while slipping on the blindfold, you can't see anything, it's completely black, but you loved it. Your sight was gone, but that just meant your other senses went into overdrive. You can't see him, but you feel Terry lean back on his knees again, reaching for something behind him, but not knowing what it is. It's only when he pulls down your bra and a sudden wet chill shocks you, making you gasp and shiver. He's running an ice cube over your skin and circling your tender n#pples. When he pulls it away, it's replaced by his warm mouth and eager tounge, sucking and circling your most tender area and making you arch your back.

"Oh!"

You gasp, it seems to be the only thing that your able to say, the only noise you can make. But that doesn't stop Terry. He does the same thing with the other breast, taking his time with every inch of you that cries out for his touch. Moving slowly down your body, he smooths the ice cube down your chest, your stomach, belly button then down inbetween your legs. He's already knelt on the edge of the bed with your leg over his shoulder, kissing up and down the inside of your thigh as he uses the ice on your tender cl#t.

"Oh god....Terry...I need you..."

"I want to hear you beg....beg for me..."

"Please! Please touch me! I'm going to go crazy!"

Hearing him chuckle, he s throws the ice cube away and dives straight between your legs, licking and sucking your soul out.

"Oh! Jesus f#cking-oh f#ck!"

He was full on devouring you like a wild animal, pinning your waist down with his hand as you writhe in his grasp. It's burning your core, the deep s#xual experience is so god damn good, and all you want to do is grab hold of his hair as he eats you, but your cuffed up and can't do a thing except lie there, and take what he gives you. He doesn't even need to use his fingers as he flicks his tounge at just the right speed, making you scream in extacy and shake against the bed, feeling wave after wave or pure orgasmic bliss. You felt lifeless, worn out from just his mouth, but your body still hungered for more. Allowing you a minute to catch your breath, Terry leans back on you and catches your lips once again.

"Now it's time for the big one...those were just a few orgasms babygirl....now we're going for the big ones..."

The big ones! When Terry has said that to you in the bedroom before, it was guaranteed you weren't walking afterwards....and that's exactly what you wanted! He uncuffed you, pulled you up onto your knees and got behind you. He moved your hands infront of you again, putting the cuffs back on and keeping on the blindfold. You feel his face close to your neck as he whispers to you.

"Just kneel up little higher baby, I wanna slip something inbetween your legs..."

Still shaking from the other orgasms, you simply nod and move up a little more, which is when Terry slips something inbetween your legs once you sit back down.

"You know what this is babygirl...the little device you slipped into the black box...now why don't I just turn this around (he turns your collar around so he can pull it from the back) and you can lean a little more onto that device. Go ahead...get comfortable"

The device he was talking about was a kind of vibration silicone plate, but it's moulded so if you sat on it you would be comfy and feel an intense vibration. And Terry had the remote to control the speed, which wasn't on just yet. Despite you leaning on this, there was still plenty on room for Terry to get in on the action, and he did NOT take long to do just that. Pulling at your collar, his free hand gripped your hip but still kept your clit pressed against this silicon plate, that's where the tip of his cock found your entrance and slid right inside you. He grunted when he felt you clench around him, he was so big that despite the amount of times you've had sex before, he still stretched you, and you could feel how hard he was. It began...one hard thrust, then another, and another, each time he went in and out you wimper, feeling every inch pound into you. You already felt like another orgasm was building, and the wimpers turned into moans.

"That's it....take it all babygirl....now, why don't I just-"

He pushed the first button on the vibration remote, making you gasp.

"Uh! Oh god f#ck! F#ck!"

It sent shockwaves through you, pulsating through your body as Terry drilled you from behind. He wouldn't stop, he was f#cking you fast and hard, every few moments turning up the level on the vibration, you could barely catch your breath as you shout with the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through you. He was going so hard and rough you probably wouldn't even remember your own name when this is done, even your eyes rolled to the back of your head with Terry doing all of this to you while still pulling you by your chain and f#cking you mercilessly from behind. The vibration was now switched to it's highest level, and you couldn't take it anymore. You screamed at the top of your lungs, your cuffed hands desperately clawing at the mattress as Terry still drills you, not stopping despite your screams of pleasure filling the Villa.

"That's it! Let me hear you!....Just like that...just a little longer baby, you can take it...I'm nearly-nea-Oh f#ck!"

Terry started to grunt, moan and shake against you once he finaly reached his own high, while you were still coming down from what felt like your 30th! He stopped the vibration toy, and you shake uncontrollably and desperately try to breath properly again, but your body has just gone though overdrive. All you could do was shake, whimper and catch your breath. Terry slid out of you and removed your collar and blindfold, finaly seeing the light again, despite you only being able to see stars. His warm hands hold you, comforting you through the shaking, your still extremely sensitive down there and any move you made felt like another mini orgasm. Terry's hands held you, he kissed your cheek, your head, and was so gentle with you.

"You did so great sweetheart....you were such a good girl"

"Th....thank you...Terry..."

"Aww you poor thing, your exhausted"

"I now...understand the term...f#cking your brains out"

You say breathlessly while Terry just chuckles, kissing your cheek again.

"Let's move these toys out of the way and lie you down. I'll get you cleaned up"

You've got to give it to Terry, his aftercare was always spot on, and made you feel so much better. He cleaned you up, got you comfortable then slipped into the bathroom, where he started to run a bubble bath for the 2 of you. You took that time to relax, get your breath back properly and have a drink that Terry gave you. A short while later, Terry came back to the bedroom and carried you into the bathroom, you would have walked...if you could...He was careful to place you in the bath, the hot bubbly water was perfect. It smelt of coconut and honey, the whole atmosphere was just the right thing after that session, and sweet Terry actually went back to the room to change the bedding before he joined you in the bath too.

"We could have done that after the bath babe"

"I know sweetheart, but I want you to feel comfortable and able to snuggle up into the bed when you want to"

"How was I lucky enough to get someone as lovely as you in my life?"

"Maybe you did what I did"

"Which was?"

"Made a wish..."

"Ok, that is just to sweet!"

During your bath, Terry had given you a back rub with some beautifully smelling oils and lotions, you practically melted against him, he just happily held you against his chest, feeling the warmth of your body and the bath water. Due to the heat, the sensitivity you had was now going away, and you were able to not just walk, but walk and not feel wobbly. A short while later when you and Terry were clean and dry, you snuggled up into bed and felt how soft and fluffy the new bedding was, it was like being hugged by a quilt.

"Oh babe, this bedding is soooo nice!"

"I thought you'd like it (climbing into bed next to you, wearing only boxers) I made sure it was the same type of bedding we have back at home, I know how much you love that"

"You didn't have to do tha-wait a second? How did you get the same kind of bedding we use in LA in France? I've seen French bedding, their pillows are square! Not rectangles! How can anyone sleep like that?"

"I'll have you know, I brought a set with me in my luggage. I had a feeling these sheets would be changed a couple of times, and comfort is a must for my beautiful fiancee"

"You did? Terry your the sweetest (kiss) and you got my favourite colour too"

"Green. I never forget"

You snuggle down into the quilt and lie on Terry's chest as he holds you in his big strong arms. Stroking your hair and rubbing your back, his heartbeat is just perfect to feel and listen to in the arms of the man of your dreams.

"Did you enjoy tonight Terry?"

"Of course I did. I love you and I love the way we play in that kind of way. And you know I'm just as happy being the sub"

"Oh yes I remember! I never knew you were into being spanked like that"

"Well before we started sleeping together, I never knew you liked being called a sl#t"

"Hm, touche (giggle)

"But yes, I loved every moment tonight. Our play time, the meal we had together, walking down the beach to the sunset"

"I couldn't have asked for a better evening"

"I agree. I have an idea, in the morning, why don't we take a trip to the Ifle Tower?"

"Really?!"

"Absolutely. I know you've been wanting to see it for years. And, we could get that romantic picture of us having a kiss infront of it too if you'd like?"

"I would love nothing more babe, thank you"

"Your welcome (kiss) You must be tired sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?"

"I just might....and maybe in the morning we could...take a shower together....get all warm and soapy..."

"You'd be ready for another round in the morning you think?"

"Oh yeh babe...and we aren't in a rush to see the Ifle Tower, so we could take as looooong as we like..."

"Now that...sounds like a great idea...me belle future épouse" (My beautiful wife to be)

"Moi aussi mon amour" (So do I my love)

[theblacklewinsky]

Note: I'm feral for this man and this song + struggling w my writing format ( im new to this omg )

JADED | AARON PIERRE.

Toxic!Terry Richmond x Black!Female Reader.

warnings: MNDI!! this story is 18+ with depictions of but not limited to; sexual content ( finger!ng), extreme language (cursing, use of n-word, use of b-word), talking you through it. lil bit of exhibitionism if you squint, mild daddy k!nk.

summary: in which you decide to end the toxic situation-ship you share with Terry— except this man only know how to suck you back in.

tell me that we locked in, locked in, look in my eyes.

tell me that you mine and we ain't just fuckin, ain't just vibin.

Why were you nervous? It wasn't like you'd never been in the very same GMC pickup before—oh you'd been in here plenty times, plenty times. Your eyes flickered to whatever they could, other than him.

The backseat.

The same backseat you'd been folded. flipped, and fucked out on. It was clean now, he'd definitely had some detailing done, the remnants of how he made you squirt only two weeks earlier had vanished, once etched into the seat itself.

And why were you sad about that?

You averted your eyes away from the backseat, firmly turning straight forward in the passenger seat, teeth nervously gnawing at the skin in your jaw. It was way too silent and tense in the truck. Way too silent. "Hi..” you sheepishly muttered, tucking a stray curl from your wash and go behind your ear, eyes darting around the parking lot of your apartment complex. The parking lot was the safest option for you, you knew how incredibly intoxicating Terry was, which meant the more space from your bedroom, the better.

Out of your peripheral, you could see Terry's face contorted into a twisted mix of confusion anger. His brows furrowed together, a mug presenting itself on his face. "What the fuck?" He spat. "Wassup?" He asked, his tone more accusatory than anything.

Where the fuck did he get off acting hurt and confused? That was supposed to be your stance in this whole thing, hurt and confused. And most of the time it was. But tonight, it was a nice change of pace, the hurt and confusion lingered on Terry instead—in which you could finally take on the nonchalant and curt demeanor. It felt so good too. So good to finally not be the one with the lump in their throat, eyes burning from blinking back tears. This felt, good.

"Nothin', just chillin," you simply responded, playing with the smartphone in your lap, acrylic nails tapping at the casing.

"Fuck you mean just chillin?" He asked his brows furrowed as he tried to catch your darting eyes. "You ain't been seein' me text you?"

"Yeah?" You responded slowly in a questioning tone, as you focused on the ASICS on your feet. "Been busy lately."

You seen Terry texts. Shit, the past couple of days he'd been the one blowing you up. It started the other night when he rung your bell and you didn't answer, you knew it was him, and he knew you were home. Lights still on and bright in the kitchen.

Private Ryan: Just rung the bell

Private Ryan: Come out.

Private Ryan: I'm sorry for the way I acted the other night. I ain't handle that situation like a man. Lemme make it up to u

It was so hard ignoring Terry, he made it hard. He didn't text or call often, he wasn't hardcore into his phone like the rest of the generation, maybe the marines played a part in that? Hell, he made sure to stay active in an effort not to get addicted to his cellular device—that's why when he texted it was a big deal.

But no way this nigga thought that you'd be at his every beck and call when he couldn't even solidify a title between the two of you? Casual sex and jealousy gets old—especially when it isn't under the terms of a relationship.

It was fun at first, linking up and sneaking off. Getting folded like a lawn chair when you least expected it, but there was something about Terry that brung the strings to a no-strings-attached situation. You started craving him, wanting him, and you made that very clear, but Terry made his intentions crystal clear from the beginning. How could you fault him for not wanting what you want? But how he could he also fault you for the change in your attitude?

"Busy?" He repeated the word like it disgusted him. His burning gaze tore through you, you could feel the heat radiating from his glare. Terry let out a heavy breath, gently tapping his fist against the staring wheel as he finally averted his gaze to the windshield. Thank Q!

But as he tore his gaze away from you, you centered yours on him. And why the fuck would you go and do that? Knowing how gorgeous he was, especially when he was pissed off? Clenching and unclenching his jaw. He had some nerve coming over here with a fresh cut. Everything so lined up and sexy—

"I came over here, a few days ago," he sternly spoke, the rough edge to his voice only setting off the throbbing in your pussy, "and you know that 'cause you was home, lights on and shit, I'm textin' you and you reading the shit in real time. What the fuck?" He repeated the three words once again. His voice growing rougher by the second.

"Two weeks ago, I'm fillin' you up and today you actin' cold as hell? Fuck is goin on?"

And why did he keep saying all the wrong shit? Filling you up was an understatement, he was stuffing you to the brim quite literally, to the point where he had bottomed out and was still tryna give you more. Filling you up, ha.

"I can't do this anymore, Terry," the words came out of your mouth abruptly, almost like you could trust yourself to say them. Terry sat there unwavering, he didn't speak, he didn't move. This only prompted you to continue. "It's too much, we both want...different things. And I'm tired of feeling like I'm overextending myself to you, being too available for you. I can't do...whatever this is anymore."

"Pea..”

"Don't do that," you firmly responded. The direct eye contact didn't seem to deter you this time. There he went. Playing those mind games. Calling you that nickname. Pea. A shorter version of the popular nickname your grandfather frequently referred to you as, sweet pea.

Terry kissed his teeth. Oh he thought he knew what was up. It'd became clear as a day. "You fuckin' somebody else." The words came out soft, quiet almost as if there had been a realization.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes rolling at the comment, " I'm not having sex with anyone, Terry." You spoke truthfully. As if you could. He made that hard enough, he stuffed you perfectly. He knew how to find that spot inside of you so easily, almost like he vacationed there in his spare time. He knew exactly what made your eyes roll back, what made that squeal in the back of your throat come barreling out, he knew your body too well to let anyone else come and have a gander.

"But I am dating," you said more quietly than you anticipated. Maybe it's because the recent dates haven't been anything to brag about. Not that your online dating profile and messages to your homegirl hadn't been highly specific, you've been attracting the same types. Baby daddies and men way too old to still be trying to just hook up. "And I know what I want, and it's not this...anymore. I wanna be able to climb in bed with a man and wake up beside him too, and not worry about him being hot or cold, or when I'll see him again," yuck. Why did you feel that damn lump in your throat again?

"I'm so tired of feeling disposable." You finalized. Flashing your watery eyes to the window adjacent to you. You weren't gonna cry in front of him. Shit, you weren't that tender. But all your feelings hitting you at once in this situation made you more emotional than you gambled for. You knew the nonchalant facade would only last so long on you. Terry was trained in that shit. He had a poker face like no other.

Terry didn't deter his gaze from you, his gorgeous eyes soft and lingering. "I don't try to make you feel disposable, Pea."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to try. You just do." You mumbled quietly. "That's why I don't wanna do this shit anymore."

Terry kept his eyes on you, reaching his large hand out to grasp your smaller one at a failed attempt at interlacing your fingers when you snatched away.

"Stop, Terry!" You frowned folding your arms. "I'm serious. No more calling, and texting, and popping up at my place."

He barely acknowledged you, kissing his teeth and leaning over the center console to rub his hand across your tummy, gripping your sides. "Why you actin' like that? Like you don't miss daddy?" He mumbled softly, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

This man didn't give up. Your restraint was at zero, and just like that you were putty.

You shook your head, arms still crossed as you let out a small whimper in which you claimed to be a protest. Eyes lowering at his wandering hands. "Hm, you don't miss daddy?" He asked in response, his hand sliding back over your tummy, fingers fondling with the button on your shorts.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid, that was the whole point of the parking lot. Far away from a bed. But you should've known that you didn't need a bed with Terry.

And yet, just like a dumb bitch you shook your head once again. Playing into his sick little game.

He trailed his soft, teasing lips down your cheek until he reached your neck, leaving a searing trail behind on the skin there. You sucked your bottom lip in, a solid attempt at trying to keep whatever moans he was pulling out of you at bay. You couldn't betray yourself even more than you had already done. You came down here to end things, and instead you were about to get folded in half once again. The circle of life if you will.

"You don't miss me? So why you lettin' me take these off you right now?" He asked. Oh he was soo condescending. He tugged on the bottom of your shorts, and look at you, lifting up to help him earning a chuckle. You were so easy. "Nipples been hard ever since I touched you," he mumbled in between kisses to your neck, his hand busying itself up to your breast while your shorts slid down your legs, rubbing your hardened nipple through the thin fabric of your tank top.

You suck in a sharp breath. Your body was on fire. You felt like you were on fire. Every kiss made you hotter, and the way he was touching you had your pussy fluttering. You had to be ovulating, this shit wasn't normal.

"That pussy so wet, I know it," he spoke, his voice lower, lips sucking on the thin flesh on the side of your neck, hand roughly parting your thighs earning another isolated whimper from you. His hand rubbing the inside of your thighs, leaving a lingering tingle behind. He was such a fucking tease sometimes.

He kissed his way back to your cheek, all the while his hands left soft slaps, and grips to your inner thigh. Your eyes fluttered closed at his constant teasing, breathing uneven as hell. You felt like you were swelling with need.

"Look at you, baby," he hummed against your ear, "you a horny fuckin' mess," he tsk'd in your ear, fingers dancing over to your pussy. Fingers lazing dancing over your slit through the thin fabric of your panties. A shaky breath slipped past your lips a soft drawn out moan following. Hell, the betrayal was already done.

"Niggas not treatin' my bitch right, huh?" He rhetorically asked referring to your dates, his own eyes focusing on the lazy dance his fingers were doing on your barely exposed pussy, until he quickly got bored and used those same fingers to move the fabric aside. "Can't be, otherwise you wouldn't be this fuckin' turned on right now." He answered his own questions, fingers immediately doing slow, hypnotizing circles on your clit.

"Fuhhh," you moaned out in response, arms immediately parting so that you could grip onto the sides of your seat for a sense of stability.

"Mhm," he hummed in response, "pussy wet just like I thought," he mumbled dragging his pointer and middle finger up and down your pussy a few times before slowly slipping the both of them in your heated core at once earning a choked out moan from you. You fit around his fingers so perfectly, almost as if he'd molded your pussy to do so.

His brows furrowed as his fingers searched inside of her, knuckle deep, "fuck," he cursed, "look how you suckin' my fingers in you like that. You missed daddy, this fuckin' pussy missed me."

It wasn't like you could respond at all, he was literally pulling your moans out of you with his fingers. His free hand had busied itself with pulling up your tank top and exposing your braless titties.

"Look how you came out here," he kissed his teeth, fingers massaging your slippery insides, the lewd sounds of your pussy squelching on his fingers filled the pickup truck, his other fingers pulling and tugging on your hardened nipples, squeezing softly before quickly pulling away. "Barely fuckin' dressed, you wanted this. You wanted daddy to get you right, huh?"

"Talkin' about' dates, you don't want them fuckin' clowns," he hummed peppering soft kisses on your cheek, his fingers attacking that delicious spot inside of you. "You just want daddy to flood that pussy again? Make you his bitch?"

"Oouu shit, daddy!" You moaned out, eyes squeezing shut as your head lazily fell against his shoulder. Him humming in agreement to your moans followed by a cocky chuckle. "Right there, right there!" You rushed out. Your resolve had slipped away a long time ago.

"Where baby?" He cooed,his tone condescending. "Right here?" He asked his fingers never deterring from the spot, instead he pushed them deeper, faster.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as his fingers continued to work inside of you, he whispered other obscenities to you as he finger fucked you good. Deliciously good. So good that you couldn't decipher or comprehend anything he'd been saying. The sound of your pussy around his fingers was sending you to another bliss you didn't know you could reach.

"Listen to how messy that pussy sound on my fingers, baby," he groaned, his free hand gripping your face firmly, tilting your head up from his shoulder so that he could watch your facial expressions closely. He smiled as he watched you; eyes squeezed shut, lips forming into that familiar frown he knew so well, a long whine following suit.

"Yeah, that pussy wanna cum for daddy don't she?" He asked placing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips.

"Oh my god," you whined your brows furrowing as you opened your watery eyes to Terry looking down right at you.

"Yeah, she do," he mumbled nodding his eyes focusing in on the assault his fingers were doing to your pussy before slipping them out slowly, rubbing the stickiness he accumulated on his fingers onto your clit in slow, agonizing circles earning a whine from you. "You better not fuckin' cum though," he mumbled quietly to you, hand softly tapping against your cheek.

"Don't..cum?" You slurred through a moan for confirmation. You could barely comprehend what he was saying, you were so deliciously close. So close.

"Don't cum," he slapped his finger against your pussy lightly, the wet plaps almost enough to send you over the edge. Only almost though. "Get in the backseat, I wanna get in that pussy." He spoke hand slapping down on your sensitive pussy once again, sending trembles to your already weakened legs.

—

cheers to my first fanfic on here lolz! feedback and criticism always welcome 💗💕 hope you enjoyed xx!

[gb-patch]

Hi, originally I wasn't going to send another ask in about the skintone issue (I was that first person who was really upset) but I keep rereading your answer and I wanted to do a lil follow up ask. Thanks for clarifying on that and I do understand why you didn't initally say it was extremely likely or that's a goal you had from the start. I think when it comes to sensitive issues like skintones (and race), I think a lot of us would prefer if you were straightforward with those topics than saying "maybe so, maybe not." It gives off an impression that you might not have cared or you were being lazy and callous with your decision making. And with how you handled OLBA's skintones (there only being 6) and the handling of Miranda and Terry's enthicities issue from last year, I was Super upset and shocked from the implication you weren't going to add it. It was very much a reactionary ask but had I not said anything, I was inevitably going to cancel my pledge because if you weren't going to be straight about something as simple as skintones, I was afraid what else you weren't going to be straight about. Thank you again for clarifying your reasons though, just please be more straightforward with things involving that. And good luck on the Kickstarter, I wish the best for it!

Thank you for this reply. It is really nice to see you're feeling more assured about the game again. I'll be bolder with explaining that we do want it have as many inclusive options as we can in the finished game, even if we need some time behind the scenes to make it happen.

And people are always welcome to tell me in the future if an ask answer on here isn't actually helpful and may be making things seem worse!

[pratchettquotes]

"So that's all settled then?" said Verence.

Finally, Magrat's voice returned from some distant apogee, slightly hoarse.

"Aren't you supposed to ask me?" she demanded.

"What? Um. No, actually," said Verence. "No. Kings don't ask. I looked it up. I'm the king, you see, and you are, no offense meant, a subject. I don't have to ask."

Magrat's mouth opened for the scream of rage but, at last, her brain jolted into operation.

Yes, it said, of course you can yell at him and sweep away. And he'll probably come after you.

Very probably.

Um.

Maybe not that probably. Because he might be a nice little man with gentle runny eyes but he's also a king and he's been looking things up. But very probably quite probably.

But...

Do you want to bet the rest of your life? Isn't this what you wanted anyway? Isn't it what you came here hoping for? Really?

Terry Pratchett, Lords and Ladies