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chrollohearttags · 17 days ago

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silk dreams, satin fantasies • e. jaeger

it’s your roommate’s special day and he’s requested only one gift: to unwrap his favorite ‘present’ as many times as he desires and you look forward to granted every last one of his wishes

📝: black fem!reader, roommate!eren, more free use + pure, utter filth (PWOP bc I don’t have the time tbh), breeding, lots of dirty talk, face fucking, squirting, bondage, pet play themes, collar + leash, heavy sub/dom, rough sex, spit play, so many themes, I’d be here all day

wc: 2.2K

🎙️: idk when (or if) y’all will see this but happiest of birthdays to my fav crash out and the only aries man I’ll ever love. my (second BD) eren! I miss writing regularly, specifically for him and feel like I’m losing my touch (school has truly defeated me) but I hope y’all enjoy it nonetheless.

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March 30th. A date that seemed synonymous with being a holiday…it was certainly a joyous occasion for one man. Who’d not only get to celebrate another orbit around the sun and the privilege of getting to see another year, but who would do so alongside someone he cherished dearly. 24 full hours filled with nothing but things that would bring him immense happiness and nothing would elicit that quite like having you around to help him enjoy his birthday..in more ways than one!..

“Mmmmph!—oh fuck…’m so deep in your fucking throat, baby and you’re not even gagging. What the hell..

a deep, groggy tone and nasally whimpers filled the desolate bedroom. An area that once was only utilized for sleeping because the right girl hadn’t come along in some time was now the platform for all of Eren’s filthy, depraved inner thoughts. All of which he planned to enact with (y/n), his pretty little roommate throughout the course and duration of the day. You were the most ideal gift a man could ask for..that cunt twitching at the sound of his praise and that puckering asshole suctioned around the metal plug stuffed inside of it. Courtesy of him coming into your room earlier this morning and shoving it in. Along with the first of many loads of warm seed he had poured inside of you today. It was something he did very often..sneaking into your bed to have his way with you as you remained in blissfully unaware slumber. There were times that you’d wake up to the sensation of his cum spilling out of you or wetness splattering your thighs because he’d fingered you in your sleep and those juices subconsciously spilled out. It seemed rather creepy and odd to do such a thing but you absolutely loved it! That much apparent by all of the salacious posts on your accounts all but begging him to.

hence why you were seated on your knees, thighs clenched together to avoid pathetically rutting yourself against his shoe and those big brown doe eyes fixated up at him. (Y/N) had been sporting a pink silk apron with not a single article of clothing underneath with the exception of thigh high socks; the color meshing beautifully with that decadent brown skin..luscious as ever. Long black hair flowing across your shoulders with a bang cascading over your forehead. Around your throat was a pink collar with a thin iridescent chain that was currently clenched around his tattooed knuckles to maneuver you as he saw fit. Satin lined ties binding your wrists in front of you so that he maintained full control. Looking so innocuous yet your head was filled with tons of equally disgusting thoughts. It was a fantasy he’d often dreamt about; watching a beautiful girl be domesticated just for him. Willing to cater to his every whim while looking absolutely stunning doing so. It was his birthday after all and you wanted to make it as special as possible. He did for you on the regular so it was only natural you return the favor. Even if it meant being fucked senseless on any surface at any given time, regardless of how exhausted you were! You’d been in the kitchen attempting to bake him a cake when he all but whisked you away and decided to take his treat early. Holding the end of that chain and making you crawl to him with that ass poking up in the air. He’d never seen something so sexy before in his entire life. If it wouldn’t have been such a damn shame, he would’ve combusted on the spot.

“Fuuuck..you’re doing so good, princess. Just like that..eat that fucking dick up f’r me. Oh my gosh..yes. You must want all of this cum, huh?”

seated on the bed before you, sporting nothing but black sweats that had been shuffled to his thighs with his legs spread far apart, Eren would gently tug that chain and buck his hips upward. Holding your head in place whilst meeting it with rough thrusts.

“Mmmph..fuck, of course you do. I’m just gonna keep fucking this pretty throat until I nut in it. You can take it..”

Peering over the rim of his glasses, Eren gazed down at you with full adoration..in complete awe of how you abandoned every ounce of your morals to please him. Needless to say, he was madly in love with you! He’d make good on his word when you’d feel that pulsating twitch and that same warm sensation gliding down from your jaws. Holding your head down and forcing you to swallow every drip of his seed. He’d begin to convulse and whimper, bucking his hips with a rough pace..spurting out strings of semen; even holding you in place to empty the remnants of his swollen balls into your mouth. He’d cry out, whimpering and moaning until his head would roll back onto his shoulders. For the moment, all he could do was laugh and be in awe of how amazing you were.

“Mmmm..shit. Lemme look at you..wanna see that pretty face covered.” That’s when he’d take his fingertip underneath your chin and hoist your face up. Only to be greeted by a beaming smile and those plump lips coated and smeared with precum and saliva. He’d mark your cheeks with a couple slaps before depressing your tongue using those digits and lobbying saliva into your mouth. Long strings and tiny speckles filled your tongue and you’d graciously beg for more.

“Harder, please.”

“Yeah? You like when I slap you, baby? Treat you like my little whore?..”

“Yes! Fuck..do it again.”

There was something insatiable about the both of you at the moment. The incessant urge to fuck his little toy and yours to get pounded into oblivion had reached its limit. Shoving those fingers in and out once more, he’d finally retract and replace it with his lips; pulling you into a sloppy kiss.

“C’mere..I gotta fuck you, like right now..” almost so desperate that it was adorable and funny. He’d hoist you by the restrained hands before placing you onto his mattress..pinning your legs back behind your head until you were folded. He’d grasp that chain tightly, kneeling down into the memory foam before tapping that juicy slit with the tip of his cock. It was aching and practically begging to feel your tight walls clenching around him.

“Pull my head down please..I love watching it slide in.” That sweet little voice of yours could sway him to commit murder if you desired it and without hesitation, he’d oblige. “Of course, gorgeous. Whatever you want.”

Taking that chain once more, he’d tug into you and have a perfect view of that shaft beginning to disappear between into that tight hole. Still a bit sensitive from that orgasm before, he’d make home inside of you before releasing a loud groan. You truly did bring out his worst. Leaning down, he’d clutch your throat and initiate another kiss before beginning to move. The sensation of that first thrust elicited a sharp gasp from you both simultaneously but staring into your eyes whilst getting to drill your shit was all the motivation he needed to push through.

“You’re so fucking tight..no wonder I can’t stop breeding you. Goddamn..”

(Y/N)’s breath would catch in your throat as those deep strokes slowly infiltrated your soft folds. The feeling was indescribable. That hard, thick cock stretching you open; swollen mushroom tip only inches away from your spot already and the result was silky cream pooling around his shaft. He wasn’t much in the way of being gentle today..he needed to break his pretty little slut! So much so, Eren had found himself with one foot planted on the bed in order to get deep as possible.

“Yeah, that’s it. That’s the fucking spot. That pussy feels amazing…you’re creaming too..I love it.”

But he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects..as you were clawing at his abs with those bound wrists ringling around.

“You get me so fucking wet, I swear— ‘s so deep in me, gonna make me come..”

“You like when I dig you out, gorgeous? Look how you keep sucking me back in..”

“Yes daddy, I love it when you fuck this tight pussy.”

at that moment, drool would begin seeping down the corners of your mouth and that fucked out state would fall cast over your face; that tongue wagging and jolting. Your body jolted back and forth, meeting his thrusts..those veiny, inked hands groping your plump tits and ripping them out of the confines of that apron in a matter of seconds. He loved how soft and pillowy they looked bouncing around. He could remain in this like this forever with you and never grow tired. Fastening the grip on that chain, Eren would pull you closer once more and quicken his pace. He’d speed up and feed you deeper, much rougher strokes.

“And I love when you call me that…makes me wanna get your pretty ass pregnant. That’ll be the best present ever.”

letting out a soft cackle, he’d shove his fingers in your mouth..thrusting them in and out to pacify your loud moans. It was honestly such a beautiful sight..watching the subtle tears flow down your cheek and that smile stretch across your lips. He wanted this to be the memory imprinted in his mind when he thought back to his birthday. Seeing you happy, those sweet eyes staring back at him full of adoration and lust, not to mention getting the privilege of doing all of these salacious things with you.

“But first, I need you to come on this dick, baby..make that shit squirt for me.” In a subtle motion, he’d reach down to unfasten your rope, freeing your hands for the sole purpose of aiding him. Those rough strokes began to penetrate your spot to draw it forth. Meanwhile, he didn’t even need to instruct you on what to do next.

“There you go, rub that fucking clit, bitch. Get yourself there f’r me.” Fully aware of just how turned on being called out of your name got you. He certainly didn’t make a habit of it outside of sex but here, nothing was off limits and he knew that you’d do anything to please him. So much so, that you’d plead for more strings of saliva in between your jaws to slicken up that swollen bud. Your chest, still being groped by his palms, began to heave and you’d cry out his name as you felt that climax only seconds away from barreling out.

“Oh God! ‘m coming, daddy, fuck fuck!—“ in that moment, it was as if everything in the room faded to black and the world stopped moving momentarily. The only thing you could feel was a damp warmth forming underneath you as those streams of juices spilled all over the place. Shooting directly against his abs and so powerful, it sent that plug flying out of your other entrance.

“Aw, there you go, baby, I know. I know it feels amazing..you earned that nut, you’ve worked so hard for it.” Talking you through that insane orgasm as you struggled to come back to reality. Once you did however, you’d find yourself rewarded with a barrage of sloppy kisses. Whispering sweet nothings and ‘I love you’s’ through the sound of your soft cries, he'd wipe those tears from underneath your eyes and make certain that you were alright.

“Here, let’s take a break. Let me grab you some water.” Traipsing over to the nightstand as he struggled to capture his own breath. Retrieving the cool liquid, he’d tilt it back and let it flow into your mouth..swallowing the much needed source of hydration.

“Good girl, there you go. Just breathe for me..” that deep voice so stern yet comforting. It was no wonder you fell apart and would give anything to live in his skin!

“I-I’m sorry! I came so hard—“ but he was quick to denounce your apology. You’d done nothing but everything he’d asked today, even at the expense of his own bedsheets. Gently caressing yiur cheek, Eren would chuckle and reassure you that it was all fine. Because not only was this the best celebration he could’ve possibly asked for…

“..hey, it’s alright, princess. You’ve been incredible. Please don’t be sorry, I’m so proud of you right now. I love you so much. Thank you for making this birthday so special.”

but because little did you know…

“Besides, we’ve got plenty of time for you to rest. I’m just getting started..I haven’t even gotten the chance to do all of the nasty shit I want to. Just wait.”

there was a lot more in store!

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illnessfaker · 1 year ago

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tw: black+trans death

from the_yvesdropper on instagram:

our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.

he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.

Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.

one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :

"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"

(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)

Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.

there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother

there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)

judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:

I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...

#op #rest in power #black trans lives matter #death -#black death -#trans death -#didn't add a tw to the top of this post at first. sorry everyone.

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macrolit · 9 months ago

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The 100 Best Books of the 21st Century.

As voted on by 503 novelists, nonfiction writers, poets, critics and other book lovers — with a little help from the staff of The New York Times Book Review.

NYT Article.

*************

Q: How many of the 100 have you read? Q: Which ones did you love/hate? Q: What's missing?

Here's the full list.

100. Tree of Smoke, Denis Johnson 99. How to Be Both, Ali Smith 98. Bel Canto, Ann Patchett 97. Men We Reaped, Jesmyn Ward 96. Wayward Lives, Beautiful Experiments, Saidiya Hartman 95. Bring Up the Bodies, Hilary Mantel 94. On Beauty, Zadie Smith 93. Station Eleven, Emily St. John Mandel 92. The Days of Abandonment, Elena Ferrante 91. The Human Stain, Philip Roth 90. The Sympathizer, Viet Thanh Nguyen 89. The Return, Hisham Matar 88. The Collected Stories of Lydia Davis 87. Detransition, Baby, Torrey Peters 86. Frederick Douglass, David W. Blight 85. Pastoralia, George Saunders 84. The Emperor of All Maladies, Siddhartha Mukherjee 83. When We Cease to Understand the World, Benjamin Labutat 82. Hurricane Season, Fernanda Melchor 81. Pulphead, John Jeremiah Sullivan 80. The Story of the Lost Child, Elena Ferrante 79. A Manual for Cleaning Women, Lucia Berlin 78. Septology, Jon Fosse 77. An American Marriage, Tayari Jones 76. Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, Gabrielle Zevin 75. Exit West, Mohsin Hamid 74. Olive Kitteridge, Elizabeth Strout 73. The Passage of Power, Robert Caro 72. Secondhand Time, Svetlana Alexievich 71. The Copenhagen Trilogy, Tove Ditlevsen 70. All Aunt Hagar's Children, Edward P. Jones 69. The New Jim Crow, Michelle Alexander 68. The Friend, Sigrid Nunez 67. Far From the Tree, Andrew Solomon 66. We the Animals, Justin Torres 65. The Plot Against America, Philip Roth 64. The Great Believers, Rebecca Makkai 63. Veronica, Mary Gaitskill 62. 10:04, Ben Lerner 61. Demon Copperhead, Barbara Kingsolver 60. Heavy, Kiese Laymon 59. Middlesex, Jeffrey Eugenides 58. Stay True, Hua Hsu 57. Nickel and Dimed, Barbara Ehrenreich 56. The Flamethrowers, Rachel Kushner 55. The Looming Tower, Lawrence Wright 54. Tenth of December, George Saunders 53. Runaway, Alice Munro 52. Train Dreams, Denis Johnson 51. Life After Life, Kate Atkinson 50. Trust, Hernan Diaz 49. The Vegetarian, Han Kang 48. Persepolis, Marjane Satrapi 47. A Mercy, Toni Morrison 46. The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt 45. The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson 44. The Fifth Season, N.K. Jemisin 43. Postwar, Tony Judt 42. A Brief History of Seven Killings, Marlon James 41. Small Things Like These, Claire Keegan 40. H Is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald 39. A Visit from the Goon Squad, Jennifer Egan 38. The Savage Detectives, Roberto Balano 37. The Years, Annie Ernaux 36. Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates 35. Fun Home, Alison Bechdel 34. Citizen, Claudia Rankine 33. Salvage the Bones, Jesmyn Ward 32. The Lines of Beauty, Alan Hollinghurst 31. White Teeth, Zadie Smith 30. Sing, Unburied, Sing, Jesmyn Ward 29. The Last Samurai, Helen DeWitt 28. Cloud Atlas, David Mitchell 27. Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie 26. Atonement, Ian McEwan 25. Random Family, Adrian Nicole LeBlanc 24. The Overstory, Richard Powers 23. Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage, Alice Munro 22. Behind the Beautiful Forevers, Katherine Boo 21. Evicted, Matthew Desmond 20. Erasure, Percival Everett 19. Say Nothing, Patrick Radden Keefe 18. Lincoln in the Bardo, George Saunders 17. The Sellout, Paul Beatty 16. The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon 15. Pachinko, Min Jin Lee 14. Outline, Rachel Cusk 13. The Road, Cormac McCarthy 12. The Year of Magical Thinking, Joan Didion 11. The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, Junot Diaz 10. Gilead, Marilynne Robinson 9. Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro 8. Austerlitz, W.G. Sebald 7. The Underground Railroad, Colson Whitehead 6. 2666, Roberto Bolano 5. The Corrections, Jonathan Franzen 4. The Known World, Edward P. Jones 3. Wolf Hall, Hilary Mantel 2. The Warmth of Other Suns, Isabel Wilkerson 1. My Brilliant Friend, Elena Ferrante

#new york times #best books #top 100 #books #21st century #contemporary #list

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hayatoseyepatch · 7 months ago

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𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: Missing you, your boyfriend hated being apart from you. So what happens when he can finally get his hands on you once more?

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: Gen Narumi & Soshiro Hoshina

𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 2k.

𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Gen Narumi & Soshiro Hoshina x Fem!Reader (seperate). (SMUT). 𝖈𝖜: oral (female receiving), minor impact play, dirty talk, praise, degradation, taking photos, oral (male receiving), marking, mentions of breeding.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Two fics in one week? From me? Unheard of. Listen if this isn't proof of how much Kaiju No. 8 has consumed me I don't know what is honestly. I'm still messing around with writing for them and getting a sense of their personalities so please be kind to me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Seeing the way you were laid beneath him blurred his mind in a cloud of lust and need. He justified his upcoming actions under false pretenses of you needing a "punishment” from earlier, when in all reality it was his own selfish need to taste you, unable to remember the last time he spent an extended period of time between your soft thighs. So rather than fulfilling your request of filling you with his cock he begins the long and tortuous process of trailing kisses down your frame, grinning against your skin as he feels your body arch into his touch, finally ending his slow descent by tugging the waistband of your panties back with his teeth, shivering in anticipation at the sound of the elastic snapping against your skin. Having enough of his own teasing he leans back groaning upon seeing the drenched material of your panties. “Holy shit babygirl, look at you, you're fucking soaked. And it's all for me, I can't wait to taste you, doll.”

He impatiently gripped the fabric of your drenched panties, tugging it off of your frame in one swift motion. Quick to pocket the article of clothing for later use, before laying flat on his front, settling himself between your legs, hooking a thumb in a fold pulling the skin to the side to expose you fully to his prying eyes. “Jesus, doll, god you're so fucking beautiful, I can't fucking stand it. Gotta commit this shit to memory.” His voice has a gravel, need consuming the octave in which his words are spoken.

He removes his phone from his pocket sliding up to access the camera to snap a photo of your exposed heat, making a mental note to use that the next time he was missing you on a mission, or maybe even send it to a certain vice-captain as a reminder of what he would never be able to get his hands on. Finally, needing to taste you before he drives himself insane, he dives down licking a fat stripe up your center.

Narumi lets his tongue circle your clit, alternating between flattening his tongue and applying just the right amount of pressure to caress the hardened nub, feeling himself getting drunk on the taste of you. “Ge-“ Any words you would try and formulate die on your tongue, getting cut off by his actions, hand flying to his hair to grip at it for leverage. A loud whimper left your lips, a near scream of his name close to follow. “Gen, please, I need you! Please, I love your mouth, but I really want you, I need you so badly.. feel so empty, haven't felt full since last time..”

Your words come out desperate, senseless pleas for him to do something, anything, to qualm the empty feeling of your cunt as it clenched around nothing. Knowing just what to say to push him over the edge and have him give you just what you were craving. Gripping the back of his hair, tugging him away from your cunt enough so you could look at him between your thighs. Eyes clouded with lust as you look into his own, their vermillion barely recognizable, his pupils blown so wide with lust. Your words are purred into the air, knowing that by the end of your sentence, you would have him hook, line, and sinker.

“I really need you to fill me up, Gen. Put a baby inside of me, I need you please, Gen.” You maintained eye contact looking at him between your plump thighs, hearing the groan that bubbled up from his throat in response to your words. For as good as he looked there, the tears that lined your lashline only enforced the need behind your words, the very same need that caused the mess between your legs in the first place. Narumi feels himself being pulled out of his haze only when your words sink in. He debates filling you with his fingers, desperate to get more of a taste of your sweet cunt, but Narumi was nothing if not willing to appease your needs. He could not deny his own needs any longer, the fabric of his pants and the plush of the mattress beneath him doing nothing to qualm his need like burying himself inside you would. Though what really sent him into a frenzy, was one phrase in particular, you always knew just what to say to drive him insane.

“Yeah, doll? Need me to fill that slutty cunt baby? Want me to fold you in half and breed you, princess? Do you want me to really make you a mommy, huh baby? Well, how could I possibly say no?” He smirks, parting from his position between your legs, leaning back on the heels of his feet before ripping down the zipper of his pants. With expert fingers, he was quick to free his aching cock from the confined of his pants, parting your legs further as he gazes at your exposed figure beneath him. Unable to help himself, he lands a harsh slap against your cunt. His grin was feral, your slick glistening against his chin. His hand soon finds a home against your throat, the other gripping the base of his cock lining it up with your entrance. “Tell me, doll, before I ruin you. Who's perfect pussy is this, hm?”

Hoshina never fared well when you both were apart. That proof was evident in the way he was on you the moment you returned to base. The mission your platoon had been dispatched on just so happened to be in his brother’s sector, fueling his need to claim you once more. His lips were all over your skin, sharp canines marking your neck, the darkened skin being his solace the insatiable need to have physical evidence that you belonged to him consuming him. He was always like this when you had to be in the presence of his brother. Their rivalry surviving even after all of these years. Knowing that you decided he deserved a little assurance. This was the only true spot of insecurity, and you intended to let him know just how much he’d never have to worry when it came to you. Stepping forward, gently guided him backward until the backs of his knees came into contact with the edge of the bed, pushing his shoulders until he sat on the mattress.

Now that the both of you were separated from the intense kiss, both of your lips swollen from the intensity of the embrace, he was free to look up at you curiously. His hands flew to your waist, pulling you flush against him. One hand pushing up the fabric of your sleep shirt, exposing your bare top half to his hungry gaze. He was quick to reattach his lips to your skin, using the height difference from you standing between his legs to his advantage. His other hand gripping the soft plush of you ass, using his hold on you as leverage to pull you closer. His tongue lolling out of his mouth, he was quick to take a hardened bud between his lips. His tongue rolling against it, coming to a point to flick at the sensitive area before letting his teeth capture it. Pulling his head back to tug until releasing, pupils blows wide seeing the bounce of the plush flesh he was rewarded with. He was quick to give the other the same treatment. “So fucking beautiful, baby, and all fucking mine.”

You run your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft moan at the attention he was giving to your body. “Yes Shiro, I’m all yours baby.” Your voice is breathy from the pleasure you were receiving, head falling back as you relish in the feeling of his expert mouth. “Missed you so much baby.” You coo, hands coming to his shoulder to push him away a bit. He was confused for a moment, if you missed him why were you pushing him away? Before he could protest or chase your skin with his mouth, you capture his lips in a deep kiss, hand trailing down his body before finding purchase on his hardened cock through the fabric of his pants. Giving it a squeeze, Hoshina can’t help but buck his hips into your hand, his body reacting subconsciously. You pull from the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips for just a moment before snapping. Looking into his hooded eyes, you let a grin slip its way onto your features.

Usually, Hoshina was always in control, working your body over and over again until the only word you could think to speak was his name. But not this time. This time you would be taking care of him. Dropping to your knees between his legs on the floor, your hands on his knees pushing his thighs apart. “let me show you just how much I missed you Shiro.” You coo, hands working dutifully on his pants, pulling his hard cock from its confines. His tip was already drooling with precum, the sight of it alone enough for your mouth to water. Ducking your head down you allow your tongue to collect his salty essence. “Fuck.” His hand flies to your hair, digits tangling in your locks. His word only fuels your actions. Steadying his cock with a hand at his base, your tongue circles his cockhead. Maintaining eye contact as you make out with his tip. “Fuck baby, please missed you too much, don’t tease.”

The plea in his voice was all it took for you to take his cock into your mouth. The groan that rumbles in his throat nearly muffles the sounds of your bobbing. Moving your head up and down on his length. Flattening your tongue on the underside of his cock, making sure to pay special attention to the vein that ran along his member. His fingers gripped the hair atop your head using it to guide your head up and down on his length, tears collecting at your lashline as the head of his cock kissed the back of your throat. “Fuck, kitten, so fucking good for me. That’s my girl taking my cock so fucking well, gonna make me cum baby, fuck.” He exclaims, throwing his head back in pleasure.

His hips bucking uncontrollably, effectively fucking your face. His hips begin to stutter, his vison going white as the coil in his stomach snaps. “Cumming, fuck kitten, fuck!” With only a few more bobs of your head, he fills your mouth with his seed, shuddering as he feels your throat contract as you swallow. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath, coming down from his high. He spares a glance at you, seeing the way you let your tongue slide from your mouth, showing him your now empty mouth. His eyes darken, and before you could blink he swiftly grabs you, the world shifting as he swaps your positions. Your back hits the mattress, his larger form caging you in, lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss. His hips roll against your own, his cock already growing hard again. His next words are spoken between panted breaths against your lips. “That was quite the show, kitten. Now its my turn to show you just how much I missed my pretty little cunt, yeah?”

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics. Banners & writing by me. Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn.

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dcangel · 1 year ago

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^stiles would be SUCH a whore for tits

especially after an awful week, he’s just looking forward to hanging out with you. he wasn’t expecting anything from you, as usual, but when you laid down while he was kissing you, tugging his shirt for him to get on top of you, he got the hint.

he knew you probably had something more planned for him, but stiles was just happy to be here with you, let alone lined up for a good night. his jean-clad hips were situated between your spread thighs, his hands respectfully at your waist despite what you had told him about wanting him in a not so respectful way.

one hand slid up your torso and briefly rested at the base of your neck before finding home in your hair, tugging gently at the roots.

his other hand gets a little more adventurous; sliding up your torso with his thumb hooked under the hem of your shirt. the fabric is brought up, slowly revealing a gorgeous black and red lace patterned bra, a small bow in the middle where the underwire of each cup met, and neat roses lining the top. stiles was too invested in your lips to notice, but when he felt the foreign texture beneath his calloused fingertips, he took a quick peek down.

you felt his lips detach from yours. stiles was staring down as the pretty article of clothing that really did nothing to hide your hardened nipples. his jaw hung agape, yet his lips were barely parted.

he’d never seen you in such clothing. sure, you’d worn patterned bras before, but you’ve never worn lingerie for him.

stiles swore he’s never seen something prettier, someone more angelic. the ineffable beauty of his girl took every word—every thought that didn’t contain you right out of his brain.

you broke him and it was obvious. you could nearly see the gears malfunctioning behind his eyes as he tried to process the alluring sight in front of him.

you watched as stiles’ eyes skimmed over the neatly threaded fabric and the skin underneath, not a single thought of even looking up at you yet. his large hands immediately cupping the doughy mounds, thumb smoothing over your pebbled nipple.

“you like it? I just got it last week, ’nd I was saving it for—well, was gonna save it for your birthday but you were having a bad week, so…”

“you—it’s,” he blew an hefty breeze of air from his mouth as if he couldn’t believe his eyes, “I can’t believe you’d do this for me. I mean, you’re, like, so unbelievably gorgeous right now—no, I mean, you always are, but right now you’re…” brown eyes flickered up to yours briefly, but dropped back down like an invisible force was attracting them like a magnet.

smiling at his hyperactive mind that his mouth often struggled to keep up with, you brought his blushed face back down you yours, his swollen lips fervently meeting yours with esurience.

of course his hands never left your chest. long, slender fingers cupped and squished the soft, doughy mounds of flesh. he could not get over the way you looked in his favorite color. stiles’ appreciation for the color deepened along with the feeling of need.

and suddenly it was like stiles couldn’t scrape the image of fucking you, with nothing on your body except this little bra, out of his mind. it’s was as if he couldn’t imagine not having you like this whenever he wanted, and he knew you’d agree.

#it’s a short one ik😔#I just couldn’t get this one out of my head #but like #in regards to the story #tell me I’m wrong #I’ll wait😁#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #dylan obrien #stiles stilinski teenwolf #stiles smut #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles x reader #stiles’!world

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cheriladycl01 · 10 months ago

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Hi! Loved your Toto fic… could I request Toto x wife!reader where they both have demanding jobs, reader is deployed in army or navy etc occupation (I know it’s out there 😂) and she’s away while he’s working a race weekend, not being able to concentrate fully only wanting his wife home, safe and sound. Thank you.

The Fight for Entertainment - Toto x MilitaryWife! Reader

Plot: Both you and Toto knew they’d be struggles in your relationship with how busy both of you were. However one weekend … seems a little too much than then rest.

Credit to mythos-writes for the GIF

Your relationship with Toto didn’t start bad. You had just come home from being deployed for the last 8 months. You hadn’t seen any family and all you wanted to was to spend two weeks in the peace of your family home rather than at base.

And for the first 3 days it was perfect. You grazed on the sofa looking after your nieces and nephews who were more than happy to see you and get hugs from their favourite auntie.

But then they wanted to go out to restaurants and then they wanted to drive 2 hours to the nearest beach and spend the whole day there.

The worst was when sport changed from lounging around in the sofa to your dad somehow having acquired some tickets. College football, then his favourite which was the NBA Basketball game you all attended.

But towards the end of what was supposed to be time relaxing your mum won your dad tickets to a Grand Prix at one of the most iconic circuits in North America.

You guys made the flight to Texas, landing in Austin in the early hours of the morning and going straight to the track for FP1 and the F2 practices that were being held there.

It was a pretty exhausting day but that is where you caught the eye of media personal and other security officers. As far as the military went you were pretty high ranking especially after all the news articles around your last deployment.

So it wasn’t a surprise when you got invited for a tour around the Mercedes Paddock. A very nice man, you remember him as he still worked there, Stephen who showed you round the whole day.

You met Toto and at first he didn’t pay too much attention to you. A small hello, before rushing off to do whatever team principles did.

It wasn’t until the end of the weekend, Lewis having won that you actually started talking to Toto.

And then you spent the rest of your time with him, until you were deployed again. He understood and it wasn’t like you guys were serious or anything.

But when he saw you for the first time in 2 months he realised just how much he’d missed you. Work was a beautiful distraction, one where he didn’t think on you being gone much as his full concentration was needed on the races he’d be travelling too.

But as you guys became more serious, the more he struggled to focus at work worried about where you were and what risks you were currently posing. But with the rank you were in, you were actually relatively safe, no longer on the front lines like you had been as a rookie when your first joined.

But you worked around how much you were both apart from one another especially after you guys agreed to marry, you would give him as many updates as humanly possible and would make time for him, whenever you had free time.

Which actually meant you started attending a lot more races, which your dad definitely wasn’t complaining about as he got free tickets every time.

However, a letter that both you and Toto dreaded came through, only 1 week after your last deployment.

“Baby” you say softly, holding the letter behind you, trying to hide the tears in your eyes.

“Yes? What it is Schatz?” He asks taking a seat on the sofa and patting next to it for you to come and take a seat.

“W-we need to talk” you breathe out knowing neither one of you will like the conversation that’s about to follow.

“What is it?” He asks, and you place the letter in front of him on his lap. He tenses seeing the government stamp on it, it being an all too familiar and hated letter in the household.

“Do you want to read it alone? Or with me here?” You ask and he shakes his head, grabbing into your hand as a means to ask you to stay with him.

He read the letter detailing that you’d be going to the frontlines of a war torn country under a protection treaty from the US Military. Something about your exceptional negotiation skills being needed.

You hadn’t been on the front lines in a while, not since you and Toto had become serious and as he’s reading it you can tell from his expressions that he’s fully taking it in.

A little wiggle of his brow in frustration, a sharp intake of breath as he presumably sees where you’ll be going.

“Baby - I” he starts and you just lean into him, pulling him into a hug and nuzzling into the side of his neck as he holds you close, trying not to let any tears fall out of his own eyes.

“You know you don’t need to do this anymore, I provide more than enough for the both of us” he exclaims looking over your face to see if you had any objections.

“You know I can’t do that, regardless of the risk I love my job and I love helping people” you smiled softly.

So that’s where today let you both, you were somewhere in a country fighting for the freedoms of thousands while Toto was providing entertainment for thousands in Miami.

But all he was thinking of was you, he hadn’t heard from you in around 2 weeks and he was starting to worry, he knew this time you’d be busy and more of the grid than he’d ever experienced in your lengthy partnership.

He’d have expected a letter or one of the media personnel to have sent a text on your behalf but there was that fear in the back of his mind that you were coming home too him.

Everyone Toto spoke to that weekend could tell something was wrong, and that it had to do with the absence of his wife as he shut people off whenever they had brought her into conversation.

Media day on Thursday was the most dismal, it wasn’t a bright day in Miami actually brining in some unexpected rain which brought the already down mood in Mercedes even lower.

George and Lewis refused to answer any questions unless they were purely racing related and the affect Toto had on his team was obvious. The rigramole that was where you currently were and why Toto was seemingly affecting the whole team with his bad mood.

The FP1 and FP2 results on Friday also reflected the lack of energy the team seemed to have, having slow practice pit stops, both drivers making rookie mistakes and Toto being angrier than usual.

However by the time Saturday came around things were looking brighter. The usual Miami sun had returned and a few of the Mercedes team members had found a certain rumour of interest that brightened their mood.

So when Sunday came around and they were listening to the anthem, the few that knew what was about ti happen were bouncing on the balls of their feet, anticipated to see their bosses reaction.

You, you were there holding the flag for your country as it was a states race. You’d be asked seeing as you were dismissed early from your deployment for such a good job, and having only had a small break since your last deployment.

So there you were, coming out of the helicopter down a rope as you walk the flag as the National anthem sounds on the speakers.

You pull your helmet fully off and your looking for any sign of Toto.

First you look eyes with some of the mechanics that were aware of this trying to remain respectful for the anthem but being excited that maybe this weekend would turn out better than they had thought at the start of the long weekend.

Then it drifts to the drivers and your immediately looking for the two British drivers in the black race suit and eventually you find the shocked look of Lewis and George, before smiles crown their faces.

“And presenting the flag for us today, Sargent Y/L/N” is spoke just as the anthem ends and you raise the flag up the pole.

Toto watches on with tears in his eyes only having just noticed it was you. He was so confused as to why you were there so early but he wasn’t going to complain.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you pulled up the flag to its full glory.

He waits, waits for permission to come see you and stand by you. You were called here on purpose right, it was for him? So he could see you?

He waited to get the nod off approval to come and pull you into a hug.

He stopped at arms length looking over you, he loved seeing you in your uniform, in his mind it was the most attractive you looked.

“Schatz?” He asks in disbelief. He pulls you into a hug and kisses all over your face, bending down due to his tall frame.

“Thought I’d surprise you! I missed you” you grin happily and he just keeps a hold of you.

“You happier now boss? Can we go racing?” One of the mechanics teases from the side.

“Yeah, jeez get your team together man” Lewis adds.

“Now that Y/N’s here it’s going to be a great weekend” George exclaims happily and you smile at the team as they continue to tease Toto.

And what a weekend it ended up being. Not only did they have Lewis as race winner, but George in P3 making it a double Mercedes podium.

And it’s safe to say, that you weren’t deployed for a while after that race which your husband was more than happy about.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #toto wolff team principal #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff dad #toto wolff fic #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff

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zeichannnnn · 10 months ago

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⚠️ In regards to the natlan controversy (and Sumeru by proxy)

Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.

Please read this fully for the reality of things I'm sorry for getting political, skip if you don't want to interact

I’m kinda sad at the fact that a lot of people are quick to hate, judge, and scrutinise Hoyo without understanding the situation.

With recent teaser of Natlan characters, people are rightfully upset at the fact that the characters shown to hail from Natlan… don’t exactly look the part. With characters lighter than my own skin tone (I’m a Chinese Southeast Asian by the way, heya) people are calling hoyo bullshit and accusing them of being a racist for failing time and time again at giving us characters with POC shades of skin. Now I’m not here to defend Mihoyo for their actions, or to tell you to stop being mad at the situation being the way they are. No, I’m here to shed you some light of how life is as a game company under the rule of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and Xin Jin Ping (XJP cause I won’t be bothered to type his whole ass name)

I've highlighted points of each section

Any pages that requires translations, I recommend using DeepL instead of google translate because you can check the meanings of specific words and it's translation are better (imo)

Skip to the last part if you just want a summarised version

Before we get into the nitty gritty that is Genshin drama, I'll give you a run-down on what and how China works.

check the part "In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it" if you want to go straight on to the point

People’s Republic of China

is a Unitary Marxist–Leninist one-party socialist republic. This means that China is under a one-party (Chinese Communist Party) rule with communism ideology on how they rule and govern the country and socialist standards for how they manage their economy and everything else. [.]

The CCP holds a very nationalistic view

[.] which is commonly used as propaganda [.] for them to garner either sympathy or control over the people of China. These nationalistic view, in its raw and most rudest form, simply states that Chinese people are pure by upholding traditional Chinese culture (that's not even traditionally Chinese, more or less more catered towards communism and the CCP's ideologies which are that they're great and everyone else is wrong) and not mixing themselves or tainting themselves with things that are not pure (i.e. anything that isn't Chinese, from China, belongs to China) This nationalistic views, which glorifies China and detests anything foreign (i.e. culture, language, people, etc.) have led to a lot of xenophobia being built and nurtured inside of China's society [1] [2] [3]

Aside from the CCP's nationalistic views,

China's society is very censored and monitored by the CCP

[.] Google, YouTube, or more specifically, the internet itself is heavily banned by the government, electing the people to use the CCP's private internet that allows them to be monitored 24/7 through IP location and private information. [1] [2] [3] [4] Aside from heavily monitored and controlled internet access, people in the real world are also actively being watched and monitored through CCTV with facial recognition features and an AI that can predict people's action (yes, exactly like the akasha, and yes, Sumeru arc is based on reality, I won't talk about it here but feel free to read between the lines and compare it with the sources and news articles I'm about to drop on you) [1] [2. Behind paywall] [3] [4] [5]

With its censorship in mind, let us talk about what brings us all here:

the gaming censorship in China.

In order for a game to be published in China, whether it's made by an indie or a multi-billion dollar company, the game has to go through a complicated preliminary test made and assigned by the CCP to play, test, and go through your game before publishing it anywhere in Chinese media [.] This test includes you company's paperwork, your game's paperwork, the things you're displaying in your game, and the story it's trying to tell. There are not that many rules on what should and should not appear inside of your game, such as: polyamory, the undead (in both graphic and non-graphic manner), etc. That should be considered tame and should cause no problem, however, we do have a problem with one of the rule given which is: Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity.

Emphasizing Cultural Sensitivity

in the article I've mentioned before, describes it as "Games should impart “correct” information on politics, law, and history, as interpreted by the authorizing agency." Now what does "correct" information entail? Who fucking knows because truth is relative. Facts, when in the eyes of the CCP, are relative to what they believe is to be right and what they want us to believe is right.

Now with that out of the way, let us get into the main deal.

MiHoYo

(not to be confused with Hoyoverse/Cognosphere which is their international branch) is a is a Chinese video game development and publishing company, founded by three classmates from university Cai Haoyu, Liu Wei, and Luo Yuhao [.] That means that Genshin Impact's development, ever since it was at its infancy, first-established days, and updates until the near future, are all subjected onto that game censorship law that I mentioned earlier. Now you might all be wondering, what does all of those rules have to do with genshin characters having dark skins? To that I point you towards the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are and have been actively working together ever since around September 2021. [1] [2]

Cooperation between MiHoYo and the CCP

Ever since Genshin Impact's massive hit both nationally and internationally, its massive fanbase has hit the internet no one has ever seen before. It is the first ever Chinese game that has gotten world wide acclaim and with that, new eyes begin to look upon China. It is no surprise to anyone that Genshin is very particular about showing and promoting Chinese culture to the outside world. Genshin has somehow become the face to Chinese culture in just a year, with limited events such as Lantern Rite and Moonchase festival to showcase China's cultural beauty. With world-wide acclaim comes a price, wherein the CCP no longer treats Genshin as "another game" but a tool that they can use to promote and advertise themselves into the global population.

Begin the censorship and micro-manipulation of things in Genshin

New gaming censorship dropped after the Genshin Impact became a hit in the industry, with even Venti and Gorou as examples of characters that should not appear in media published in China (effeminate man) [.] In additional to the list I've linked in the "the gaming censorship in China" section, a lot more additional rules have been added to that list, such as: queer representation, morally grey character, but I what I want you to look at more is the section where "historical elements, including characters, maps and clothing, should conform with mainstream accounts." in addition to that, a self-regulation pact was made between game companies and the CCP that bans any and all content that is deemed "politically harmful" and "historically nihilistic." Now focus more onto that "historically nihilistic" point, what does that mean?

Historical nihilism

is a term used by the CCP and many Chinese scholars to describe research or discussions deemed to contradict an official state version of history in a manner perceived to question or challenge the legitimacy of the CCP [.] TLDR; it's a term used for when what you're saying clashes or goes against what the CCP said. Why is this important you may ask? It's because that now, at this point, if anything Genshin does something—whether that'd be plotline, design etc.—that the CCP thinks shouldn't exist or be represented, they have the lawful right to block or stop it from reaching the final product. Now this, this is what happened to Genshin's Sumeru and Natlan cast.

In relation to Genshin's design choices and how China's beauty standard influences it

white has always been a predominant part of modern Chinese beauty culture, for some reason (I don't know and I'm not going to go that deep into it, research it on your own if you're curious) In fact, it's not only China but also Asian culture in general. White skin has always been hailed as pure and beautiful here in Asia, where the line "as pale as the moon" is a common compliment to give to someone. Skin colour that are tan or even darker are connected to being dirty or stinky. Despite the younger generation not really adhering to that view, the older generation (calling out the CCP here) upholds that standard till this day. Pin straight hair, round eyes, pale white skin, and a thin figure are the standards put upon those born as female. Their male counterpart are not that different, with lean and fit being the preferred body type rather than big muscles or bulky forms.

The reason behind why this is the case is because of Asia's strict social code in rules and appearances. We must appear prim and clean, that means no dyed hair, no tattoos, no piercings, and minimal make-up. Anyone that goes against those rules are regarded as delinquents or deviants that usually break the rules and do criminal activities (despite it not being the case) Having a bulky stature also applies to that list, regardless of what gender you are, and especially for men. You're regarded as dangerous, criminal, bad influence if you look like that in public (this is why we don't have that much bulky characters gang and why we were robbed of heavy muscles Itto orz) (he deffo was very bulky in the original design, probably similar to the Nobushi but it got nerfed in final product)

Given all of that in mind, it's no wonder that Sumeru's and and Natlan's casts are mostly white... but were they always that way?

The original skin colour design for Natlan cast might've been darker than what we have in the final product.

As a lot of people have mentioned (especially with the many beautiful edits I'm very fond of) the character designs for Natlan's new up-coming rosters looks better with darker skin tone. Take for examples this edit right here:

taken from @ rarepairz on twitter [source]

Their designs (with darker skin tones) seem to pop more, giving highlights onto their clothes and accessories in comparison to the original design. Here are more examples of this happening:

taken from @ Wabs_nabs on twitter [source]

It is especially clear to anyone with basic colour theory that the colour used for designing the clothes and accessories and highlights in the hair look better with darker skin colour. There is *intent* on making it this way in comparison to woeful ignorance of making them look white as hell. If they were to intentionally to make the characters look white, they would've chosen a better colour for the clothes, less bolder ones and eye-popping ones to contrast with the already luminescent light that's emitting from the skin.

And this is not the case for only Natlan, by the way! The same thing happened when the Sumeru cast was first leaked. Case in point this:

taken from @ animuswonder on twitter [source]

and my personal art of Cyno and Nari:

Look at how much contrast there is between their colour palette or how much resonance there is, with Cyno his more cold-colour attire and hair, in comparison to his deep dark warm skin or Tighnari that's the epitome of a "spring girl" like come on man. There's INTENT in those designs, to have more darker shades than they are in the game. Sadly, they just can't do it due to censorships. Why? Because, as I have mentioned before, darker shades of skin are represented as dirt here in Asia as we glorify pale skin more.

The representation of uniqueness and differences in Chinese game is not common due the fact that most Asian countries are homogenous, which means they prefer everyone and everything to be the same, to look the same, and follow and do the same things. They do not advocate for uniqueness, they do not advocate for individuality, they advocate for us to conform and to follow like a sheep in a herd. Because of that, most people spend their whole life trying to whiten up their skin, keeping them light, and those who are darker than most are shown prejudiced and scrutinised.

Mentioning again the fact that MiHoYo and the CCP are working closely together, Genshin Impact is currently being used as a cultural weapon by the government. With MiHoYo showing numerous time that they've donate and support Chinese cultural heritage, the CCP is using that fact and holding control over Genshin as a way to promote and advertise sympathy towards Chinese culture and the Communist regime by proxy. It's like how your parents are getting you to eat broccoli brownies in hopes that you'd eat normal broccolis and other vegetables by proxy. Everything and anything that Genshin shows in its game are now under close inspections of the CCP and colourism especially will not fly-by their radar.

In conclusion

Your anger and hatred towards the new characters’ designs are justified, however the person you aim those anger and hatred should not be towards Mihoyo, or Liu Wei, or any of the staff members but towards the situation and the laws and the local government MiHoYo has to adhere to.

We're already lucky to have MiHoYo even wanting to represent and shpw different cultures from different parts of the world, telling us engaging stories, and incentivising us to think more and to be be more of us instead of following the crowd and to judge those in power (if you are literate and have the ability of a 6th grader, you know the theme Genshin Impact is showing in its story). In a world where they aren't able to live as freely as people outside of mainland do, they shouldn't have to put their life at risk by creating a game that goes against the CCP's laws that will lead to a deduction to their social points (yes, those actually exist, WAKE UP). Yet they do, they update every month, telling stories, creating characters with many characteristics that goes against Chinese gaming laws, just for us to enjoy.

Do NOT accuse people of being racist just because your skin colour cannot be found in a game. Learn to know that people don't live in the same situation as you.

You are right to be mad, you are right to be upset, but do not condemn them for something they hold no power to. It's between their lives and your fantasies and if you choose to value your delusion over their livelihood then that just shows what kind of a person you are.

Where's this conviction towards other game companies aside from MiHoYo? Where's the rightful air when it comes to companies that breathe much fresher air? Do they not have the same responsibility? Or is it because you actually do not care and merely want to point your unbridled emotions towards something or someone? If so, you're pointing at the wrong person.

#genshin impact #genshin natlan #natlan #zei's rant

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mizgnomer · 2 months ago

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Behind the Scenes of the Thirteenth-to-Fourteenth Doctor Regeneration in Power of the Doctor - Part One

Excerpt from Benjamin Cook's article in DWM #584:

Across the studio, executive producer Phil Collinson, director Rachel Talalay, and a growing number of crew members are huddled around a laptop. What are they watching? Rachel motions for David and DWM to join them. “I want to show you Jodie’s half of the regen,” she says. “Ooh yes, please,” says David. “This is exciting, isn’t it?” But secrecy is paramount. “What I also wanted to show you, David, is the few minutes leading up to it –” “But I’m not allowed to see?” David finds this very funny. Rachel presses play. We watch the Thirteenth Doctor’s final 45 seconds. “There she is!” exclaims David, as Jodie steps out of the TARDIS onto a rocky peak – the sea ahead of her, the sun starting to rise. “On a clifftop??” Phil looks on approvingly. “This is unusual,” he says. “Blimmin’ hell.” “It’s beautiful,” adds David. [...] Rachel’s last work on the series was the Twelfth Doctor’s 2017 swansong, Twice Upon a Time – which ended with Jodie’s very first scene. Having midwifed the Thirteenth, Rachel has returned to see in the Fourteenth, directing today’s regeneration and the first 2023 Special. “I am so lucky I get to do this,” she says. “That I get to re-regenerate David Tennant is phenomenal. I was already incredibly interested in returning. Just the fact that Russell was coming back was enough. When I was told it was David too, that took me to a whole other level.” In studio, on Rachel’s laptop, Jodie has finished regenerating. (David: “That’s all we’re getting? I want to know what happens next!”) Cut to black and an on-screen caption: “Over to you, Russell!” Rachel runs David through her camera moves. “We don’t want to pull out on Jodie, then keep pulling out on you. We want to push in on Jodie, so we want to reverse this shot, push in as the morph starts, your clothes disintegrate –” David: “Uh huh.” Rachel: “– and by the time we get into the final position, it’ll be fully you. Everyone will be like, ‘Holy wow! I thought this would be Ncuti Gatwa.’ And then, David, it’s over to you. Tell us what you want to do.” “Exactly the same as I did last time?” “Sure. Why not.” [...] On set, David is taking a selfie with the TARDIS. “I’ve got to send Jodie this,” he says, gleefully. “I’m texting her and sending her pictures, because obviously she isn’t here, but she’s my mate, and we’ve got her on a screen to line me up…”

Future posts this set will be available in the #whoBtsPower tag. The full episode behind-the-scenes list is [ here ]

#doctor who #david tennant #jodie whittaker #the power of the doctor #whoBtsPower #rtdedit #rachel talalay #I know losing a doctor is always sad #but something about david's joy in sharing it with her #and the fact that they are mates #makes me happy #stuff i posted #whoBts #dwm #doctor who magazine #benjamin cook

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avonnimimi · 3 months ago

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Ruin Me

➽───❥ The Series. Part: 1 |

☥| a/n: Hi my babies! i know i keep starting series and never finish them but i can’t focus on one thing for too long, i promise ill get to the others soon. Got the idea from this pretty girl @shoyoist you should go check out her work! MEN AND MINORS DNI

☥| content: boxer!Vi, journalist!reader, porn with a plot, obsession, lesbian sex, strap (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving), squirting, petnames (princess, baby, doll, good girl), overstimulation (r!receiving), stone top!Vi, upcoming toxic relationship. lmk if i missed anything!

Your first glimpse of her in the ring was something out of a fever dream. Violet, they called her. An up-and-coming boxer, a force of nature in the brutal ballet of the ring. Your job, a lowly intern at a prestigious journalism corporation, was to document her ascent, to dissect her every move, to capture the essence of this enigmatic fighter.

Notebook clutched in your hand, you sat ringside, the energy of the crowd a palpable hum around you. Your pen scratched across the page, capturing the raw power of her form, the way her muscles coiled and flexed, the almost feral intensity in her eyes. The way she moved, each punch a symphony of controlled fury, each breath a ragged gasp of barely contained rage. It was mesmerizing, terrifying, beautiful.

Your gaze lingered on the intricate ink that adorned her back, a story told in lines and shadows. Her eyes, dark and smoldering, held a depth of resentment that both intrigued and unsettled you. You felt a pull, a strange, inexplicable yearning to understand the source of her anger, the fire that burned within her.

She won three fights that night, each victory more brutal than the last. Afterwards, you were ushered into a small, sterile room, the air thick with the metallic scent of blood and sweat. Violet sat across from you, her movements economical, her gaze distant. You watched, transfixed, as she unwrapped her hands, the stained cloth wiping away the blood that trickled from her nose.

You cleared your throat, the sound fragile in the charged silence. "Hello, Violet," you began, the click of your pen a nervous counterpoint to the pounding of your heart. "Since this is our first interview, I won't be asking any questions. Just say what's on your mind, yeah?" You offered a tentative smile, hoping to ease the palpable tension in the room.

Her eyes, finally meeting yours, held a warmth that belied the icy exterior. They were consuming, drawing you in, holding you captive in their depths. You felt the weight of her anger, the raw, untamed power of it, and instead of fear, you felt a strange sense of fascination, a desperate need to understand.

"My name is Vi," she muttered, her voice low and rough, each syllable a brushstroke against your already frayed nerves. Then, without another word, she rose and left, the door slamming shut behind her with a force that made you jump. You bit your lip, the taste of blood mingling with the metallic tang in the air. You had four words. Four words to show for your efforts. You were going to be in trouble.

But those four words, My name is Vi, resonated within you, a secret whispered in the darkness. They were a key, a starting point, a promise of something more.

That night, you lost yourself in the labyrinthine depths of the internet, searching for any scrap of information about this enigmatic woman. Articles painted a fragmented picture: a shadowy manager named Silco, a missing sister, a recently ended relationship with some polished, uptown woman. The images, though, those held you captive. Her unwavering stance, the defiant tilt of her chin, the messy dark hair, the full, sensual lips… You scrolled and clicked, each image, each article, fueling the growing obsession that burned within you. You wanted to know her anger. You needed to know her.

The next morning, you were reprimanded, your paltry four words deemed insufficient. They sent you back to the arena, back to the source of your burgeoning obsession.

This time, Vi was different. Distracted, her movements less precise, her focus fragmented. She still won, her raw power undeniable, but the fire in her eyes seemed dimmed, banked by some unseen force.

The post-fight interview was a repeat of the first. Vi sat across from you, her legs spread wide, her scowl etched deep into her features. The aggressive posture, strangely, made you blush.

"Hello, Vi. Good match today," you offered, your practiced smile faltering slightly under her intense scrutiny. "I have a few questions for you today."

She didn't respond, her eyes raking over you, assessing, analyzing, trying to decipher the meaning behind your words.

"How many matches have you won since you started four years ago?" The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the click of your pen and the soft hum of the air conditioner.

You almost repeated the question, fearing she hadn't heard you, but then, her voice, rough and gravelly, filled the small space. "Ninety-three."

You scribbled down the number, your hand trembling slightly. God, she's beautiful, you thought, the realization a sharp pang in your chest.

"Which opponent have you struggled with?" you asked, your gaze flitting between your notepad and her eyes.

She was watching you, her breath steady, her expression unreadable. She had fewer cuts and bruises than last time. A part of you, a small, desperate part, ached to reach out, to tend to her wounds, to soothe the ache in her jaw.

"None of them," she answered, her tone flat, devoid of emotion.

You nodded, dutifully recording her words, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. Fuck, she's hot.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the question that had been burning in your mind since you'd stepped into the arena. "Why did you look so distracted today?" The words were barely a whisper, but you knew she'd heard them.

She stared at you, her expression blank, unreadable. You waited, your heart pounding against your ribs, unsure what to do, what to say.

And then, just like last time, she got up and left.

You returned to work the next day, a newfound confidence bolstering the lingering ache in your muscles. The fleeting praise from your superiors was a mere distraction from the all consuming obsession that had taken root – Vi. She was a constant presence in your thoughts, a phantom limb you yearned to touch, understand, possess.

Two weeks later, you were drawn back to the arena. Anticipation thrummed through you, your heart a frantic drum against your ribs. Vi's entrance was delayed, her opponent pacing restlessly, unaware of the impending storm.

When she finally emerged, your breath hitched. The controlled intensity you'd previously witnessed was gone, replaced by raw, untamed energy. Her eyes blazed with a feverish violet light, pupils dilated, focus fractured. Adrenaline fueled her, her movements sharper, more frenetic, each exhalation a visible plume of heat in the cool arena air.

The fight was a brutal ballet of controlled chaos. Her punches landed with devastating force, radiating palpable heat. She was a predator toying with prey, movements deceptively languid, lulling her opponent before unleashing a flurry of devastating blows. She fought only one opponent that day, leaving him shattered in her wake.

The wait in the sterile room was agonizing, anticipation curdling into restless frustration. When Vi finally arrived, a half-hour late, a dissonant grin stretched across her face, jarring against the vacant, unfocused look in her eyes.

"Hey, princess," she drawled, her voice rough, laced with a playful edge that didn't reach the depths of her gaze. "What kinda bullshit questions y'gonna ask me today?" She sprawled across from you, legs spread wide, a brazen display of dominance. Her presence filled the small space, sending a shiver of desire down your spine. Her eyes flickered downwards, acknowledging her effect on you.

"Are you on something?" you asked, genuine concern lacing your voice, your notebook forgotten.

She shook her head slowly, then let it fall back against the chair with a groan. "Y'know you're pretty when you try to analyze my fighting," she murmured, her words a caress against your raw nerves. The realization that she'd been watching you watch her sent a wave of heat through you. "But is that the only thing you watch me for?" Her eyes, slightly lidded, met yours, their intensity stealing your breath.

She rose, fluid and predatory, and stood before you, gripping your jaw, tilting your head up. Her thumb traced your bottom lip, sending a jolt of electricity through you. Your wide, innocent eyes locked with hers.

"I know when pretty things like you want something," she whispered, her voice low and husky, a promise and a threat. "And I can give that to you."

You couldn't answer, your voice trapped, but she wasn't wrong. She'd seen through you. You wanted her with a desperate hunger. You wanted to unravel her enigma, feel her heat, drown in her gaze.

And that's how you found yourself in her apartment, on her bed, her body a weight against yours in a mean mating press. She moved with controlled ferocity, her hands mapping your body, her lips leaving a trail of fire. The pleasure was sharp, intense, her voice a constant murmur of praise and encouragement, pushing you further into the abyss of sensation.

Her fingers teased your nipples, drawing moans, while her tongue traced a path down your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake. With each thrust, she whispered encouragement, her voice a dark melody against your skin. You cried out her name, your pleas mingling with her moans, the world narrowing to the feel of her joined with you, her hot breath on your skin. She was a force of nature, muscles tense and powerful, eyes dark and consuming.

"Good girl, baby," she growled, her hand tightening around your throat, the pressure a delicious counterpoint to the building pleasure. "Don't needa think about anything but this dick."

"Fuck, Vi," you moaned, the words torn from you, met with a deeper, harder thrust that sent pleasure crashing through you.

The intensity spiraled towards a blinding crescendo. She whispered promises, her voice a siren song.

"Yeahhh, you take it so well f'me," she panted, voice thick with desire. "Gonna make you cream all over my cock."

And you did. You came hard and fast, convulsing around her. But she didn't stop. She kept moving, pushing you further, the pleasure shifting, changing, almost painful.

"W-wait...Vi, it feels...nnggh...feels weird..." you gasped, the unfamiliar sensation a ripple of fear.

She silenced you with a deep, possessive kiss, then whispered, "Don't worry, pretty doll. Been takin' it like such a good girl. Gonna make you cum so hard. Wanna cum f'me?"

You nodded frantically, desperate pleas escaping your bruised lips.

She rode the waves of your pleasure, pushing you past the edge again and again. She filled you completely, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in time with her thrusts, sending you spiraling. She pulled out, then slammed back in, the pressure change triggering another orgasm. You squeezed around her, and a jet of your own arousal spurted out, slickening her stomach. "Fuck, you squirtin’ for me, princess?" she growled, the sound a mixture of surprise and possessiveness.

When your spasms subsided, but your pussy still throbbed, she pulled out, her fingers immediately diving between your folds. She curled and pumped, her touch expert and relentless, even as your overstimulated nerves screamed in protest. "Not done yet, pretty girl," she murmured, her voice rough with desire. "Gonna make you cum again." She stretched your slick walls, her fingers mimicking the rhythm of her cock, building the pressure until you were squirting again, crying out her name incoherently. This time, she lowered her head, her tongue lapping up your release, her moans a counterpoint to your cries.

Finally, spent and sated, she cleaned you up, dressed you, and took you home, leaving you with the throbbing ache between your legs and the ghost of her touch. Your notebook remained empty, journalistic ambitions forgotten in the raw, consuming desire. You had learned nothing about Vi, the fighter, but everything about Vi, the woman. And you craved more.

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this is my original post, please don’t repost, translate, or plagiarize my work ;)

©️avonnimimi 2025

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stardust-thief · 3 months ago

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meet cute

an: this is not very spiderman-esque + it kinda sucks😭 but i have brainworms im thinking of so many ways the bau cld be part of this au

synopsis: your best friend, penelope garcia, gets you to meet spencer reid, who unbeknowest to you is seceretly spiderman, 1.7k words

cw: just fluffy meet cute, a little rossi slander im sorry, mentions of tobias hankel but its pre-lizard, bc tobias hankel is the lizard in this au, not proofread at all

masterlist

“Pen, are you sure this is a good idea?” Your best friend, Penelope Garcia, whom you loved with all your heart, was meddling again. She had taken notice of the fact that you are a workaholic and would prefer to spend your days researching for your newest article, than literally anything else. Deciding this was completely against the criteria to be friends with her, she has taken you to meet some of her friends. Namely, Spencer Reid. You didn’t know much about Spencer other than the fact that he was a great photographer and an even greater nerd. Said affectionately, you literally do nothing but work, how nerdier can you be.

“Are you kidding me? This is a perfect idea! Both you and Spencer are basically hermits, my thinking is that two hermits cancel out each other's hermit-ness and you’ll both bloom into beautiful social butterflies! Maybe I’ll finally get to see my best friends outside for once. Or maybe that’s too big an ask.” She grabbed your arm to make sure you couldn’t back out last minute, and all but dragged you into the little cafe you were supposed to meet this elusive Spencer at.

The cafe wasn't one you familiar with, preferring to stick with the one adjoined to the Daily Bugle building. This one had booths lining the walls, and a vast glass counter full of the most delicious pastries you’ve ever seen. The one at the Daily Bugle served only stale bagels, and made you sit in those hellish latticed garden chairs that do no good things for your comfort.

You watch as Penelope’s hawk eyes scan the cafe, “ok so, he’s not here yet. I promise you he hates being late, just sometimes something will just come up and- he’ll show up! Go get a seat, I’ll order something for us.”

“Ok, I can do that.” You say as you turn to move towards an open booth seat. Penelope was a generally anxious person, this was something you've grown used to after knowing her for so long. But whatever that was back at the counter was a lot more anxious than strictly necessary. True, being late to a first meeting was not a good first impression. Also true that the later he is, the later you will be in getting back to the office, meaning another late night working to finish your article. But it's not the end of the world! Yet!

Penelope interrupted your doom-thinking by placing a tray full of various coffees and pastries on the table. “I got your favourite,” she says as she pushes the warm coffee towards you and sits on the opposite side of the booth, “I wasn’t sure which pastry to get so I got… many.”

“Many is a word I would use, yeah… It’s fine Pen, we can all just take some home. Have you heard anything from your friend?”

She gives her patented dramatic sigh, “Ugh, Boy Wonder says he’s on his way. Wait, forget I called him that. Spencer Reid is on his way, he says he apologises for his tardiness.”

A loud bang catches your attention as a tall man, who looks like he’s ran a marathon to get here, slams the door to the cafe open a little too hard, rattling the wall decor and capturing the attention of literally every person in the shop. You watch as his eyes sheepishly scan the room until they land on Penelope. He gives an equally sheepish wave and hurries to sit down next to Penelope.

“Spencer, what the hell was that?” Penelope mutters, and you watch as they devolve in an argument at the volume of mice. You sit there awkwardly, sipping at your coffee as you wait for them to remember you’re there.

“Ok, Spencer!” Penelope starts, “this is my friend, who has been waiting here very patiently, might I add.”

Spencer’s eyes turn to meet yours, his eyes are a warm and deep brown that reminds you of coffee. You notice the slight bloodshot twinge he has, and the dark, heavy bags that sit under them. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in at least 2 weeks, leaving strong stubble clinging to his lower face.

Out of habit, you raise your hand to shake his and introduce yourself, “Hi Spencer.” It takes a moment for him to realise you have your hand raised, and he rushes to meet it.

“Hi, I’m really so sorry for being late, that was so rude of me, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” you hear Penelope give a mocking laugh as if to say ‘you never apologise to me like this'. Ignoring her, you notice that his hands are calloused and rough, littered with small bruises and nicks that leave you questioning how they got there. Noticing this he's quick to retract his hand, “sorry, I work in a lab so I get all kinds of cuts from the machines. Um, what do you do?”

“I work as an investigative journalist for the Daily Bugle.” The Bugle has a bit of a reputation due to its owner, D. Rossi, who is known to be an avid anti-spiderman fanatic and is constantly making up theories to defraud and belittle him. But you’re too proud of your work to let something like that stop you from talking about it. At the mention of the newspaper, however, you watch as Spencer shoulders tense up and he shoots a sidelong glance at Penelope.

“The Daily Bugle! Yeah, I used to send in my photographs for them sometimes.” Spencer breathes out.

“Really? What articles were they published in, I might’ve seen them!”

“No um, Rossi kept rejecting them so I never got them published.”

Oh. Good job. “Yeah, he can be a bit tough sometimes. I’d love to have a look at your work, maybe I can try and get something published along with my articles?” You offered this as a nicety, but you’re also genuinely curious to see what kind of work he’s done.

“That would be really nice actually, I’d appreciate it. What are you working on now?”

“An article on the research Dr Hankel is doing at Oscorp, he’s taking lizard DNA and attempting to splice it with human DNA to modify our genes. He’s hoping it can help humans regenerate lost limbs the same way lizards can. It’s fascinating stuff, but I don’t think it could work.” Especially seeing as Dr Hankel seems to have about 12 screws loose, interviewing him was not one of your preferred research activities.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that. My boss at the lab says it could be amazing if it works. It just has to work first.” He chuckles and begins picking apart the pastry in front of him. “So, you don’t agree with Rossi’s whole anti-Spiderman tirade?”

You hum, “not really. I mean, I think Spiderman is doing a great thing by helping protect the people of this city, but I also think he has a lot to answer for in terms of damage to properties, and livelihoods. But I definitely don’t think he deserves the scrutiny he gets from Rossi. Without him, what would New York do?”

He visibly relaxes at that, maybe he’s just a Spiderman super fan, there are probably worse things a person could be. You all get wrapped up in conversation and fail to notice the hours passing by until a worker comes up to your table and lets you know it’s nearly closing time.

“God, we’ve been here all day. I need to get back to work, finish my article before my deadline tomorrow.” You say, rushing to stand up and leave. Spencer rushes to stand up with you.

“You’re working overnight? Surely that can’t be safe.”

“It’ll be much less safe if I don’t hand this in to Rossi before my deadline.” You chuckle, “I’ll be fine, I’ve done the bulk of it, not much more to do now!”

“Let me walk you to your office, it’s getting dark out.” Out the corner of your eye, you see Penelope wiggle her shoulders and wink at you.

“No I can’t ask you to do that, it’s not too long of a walk.” It is such a long walk, you’re just lying. “I’ll get to the office before the moons even out, don’t worry about it. Penelope, thanks for organising this, I had a lot of fun.” She pushes out of the booth set and wraps you in a big hug.

“Oh, I’m so glad you came! It’s good to see you away from your desk for once. Don’t stay up too late, ok, go home and get some rest at an appropriate time. No later than 4am ok?” She holds you by your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes until you agree. “Good, take some of these pastries with you, you’ll need the sugar.”

“Thank you Penelope, I promise I won’t stay too late.” Pastries in hand, you turn to Spencer again. God his eyes were so deep. “It was really nice to meet you Spencer, maybe we can do this again sometime. As a group I mean, all three of us.” Real smooth! The idea of hanging out with Spencer again made you excited, but the last thing you want to do was come on to strong.

His eyes widen slightly and he rocks back and forth on his feet. “Yeah, I would love to do this again, all of us. It was lovely meeting you as well, please stay safe.”

You smile at him and turn to leave, beginning the long walk back to the offices of the Daily Bugle. The many steps in your way do nothing to stop the giddy feeling in you.

Unbeknownst to you, after Spencer walked Penelope home he slipped into a dark alley, pulled on his spider-suit, and started swinging himself across New York until he found you walking to your office. After following you from the rooftops, making sure you were safe, he noticed that you had in fact lied about how long it took you to get back to work. He made a note to ask more firmly if he could walk you back next time, especially when it was getting so late. Once you were back in the Daily Bugle, he waited and waited until you were finished with your work to escort you back home.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spiderman au #spencer reid #penelope garcia

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hauntedhokage · 18 days ago

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𝐼 𝑤𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐼𝑡𝑜𝑠ℎ𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑…

Itoshi Sae/Reader (gender neutral, no pronouns)

summary: Being in a relationship with Sae, naturally he's one of your favorite things to write about. This time, you feel a bit stuck.

word count: 1.8k

ao3 ✧ masterlist ✧ ko-fi

You’d been sitting at your seat for what felt like hours; the blinking line on the page taunting you — daring you to actually start working on your article. You weren’t under stress or pressured by a day approaching deadline, having a little over a week to get this sent over to your editor, your hands and your brain were simply refusing to cooperate. Words floated through your mind, creating ideas that sounded great until you tried to turn them into sentences and creating an internal frustration that you don’t know how to ease.

Music proved to be more of a distraction than support, after you’d spent ten minutes switching between different playlist and albums you simply closed the app to avoid wasting more time. You’d opened the blinds for natural lighting, only to get distracted by the scenery outside and chose to close the blinds, but that then meant you had to get up and turn the lights on so your laptop screen didn’t risk blinding you. Then the screen still felt too bright, your fingers dancing between the buttons that raised and lowered the brightness of your screen until your phone lights up with a notification. The response to your editor turns into texting your friend about your dinner date and new jewelry, but you catch yourself before you open a game that you’d lose yourself in.

You have an article to write, after all.

The tentative title sits at the top of the document; the seven words antagonize you, delivering a challenge to type more than just the title that your brain refuses to give in to. Your notepad sits beside your keyboard, the singular page you’d written on half blank and giving you not an ounce of inspiration to begin typing.

You’d had dinner with Sae, of all people, and loved writing about him, so why was this suddenly so fucking hard?

“Just staring at it isn’t going to make the words appear.”

The deadpan reminder earns an equally unimpressed stare as you turn to look at him. He’s leaning in the doorway, shirt draped over his shoulder while he drinks from his water bottle, and you’re immediately reminded as to why you were so distracted — he was in your apartment. You could’ve been watching him do yoga and work out, but instead you’d taken the tea he had made for you and sat down at your desk to get the article written. That was three hours ago (holy shit, three hours?), and you still weren’t done despite being so confident that you could finish your article quickly since you knew him so well.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been so difficult last night.”

“I acted like I do every time we have dinner.”

He was right, and that was the problem. You didn’t think he wanted your readers knowing that he made reservations months in advance and waited in the restaurant lobby for you when you were a few minutes late to ensure you were seated at the same time to prevent you worrying about having to convince the hostess that you were actually supposed to meet him rather than being a crazed fan. He probably didn’t want them knowing how soft and warm his hand was when it held yours on the table, or the way he gave you his undivided attention when you talked — the way he licked his thumb clean after carefully wiping the dessert sauce from the corner of your lips definitely would have to go unmentioned.

It was hard to write an article when you couldn’t write your favorite things about him outside of his soccer.

“What would you write if you were doing this?” He quirks a brow at your question, taking another long drink of water as you watch him unashamedly. “Seriously. You go to dinner with Itoshi Sae, what are you going to highlight?”

“His beautiful partner that joined us for a nice meal.”

“You’re no help.”

“Expose his new training schedule.”

“And what else?”

“Debunk the rumor that he’s being traded.”

“…and?”

“What we ordered for dinner. That’s it.”

You supposed you could get a decent length article out of those three topics, and you would include that he waited for you to be seated because it was just funny that such a scenario had happened to you before and he needed to ensure you were never mistaken for being just a fan again.

“What did you order?”

“You’re a hopeless reporter.” Is all he says as he leaves the doorway, presumably headed to go take a shower.

You choose to get up for more water, but detour to your bedroom to see if he’d kept the receipt from dinner so you knew exactly what he’d ordered for himself.

Chicken salad, breast meat only, with no tomatoes or seasoning and dressing kept on the side. You’d had a pasta dish, and you’d both had a glass of wine and shared the dessert that he’d ordered.

Sae likes chilled white wine, preferably a dry Chardonnay but made do with what this restaurant had to offer. One glass only — he’s not one to indulge. I felt that the wine perfectly complimented my pasta, but I’m sure that was his plan considering that he waited until after we’d gotten our dishes to request the drinks. He’s just as observant of the field as he is when he’s in uniform.

That last sentence is highlighted as needing your attention, since you weren’t confident in it but needed to keep going while you had the energy.

You go into the rumors of his being traded to another team, highlighting why any team in the league would need a player of Sae’s caliber and desired the man himself for their team but putting in the exact quote from Sae regarding being traded.

“Not once has a rumor spread about me been true, so anyone who believes a rumor about my status is a fool.”

I’d told him that he and his team were always swift to deny rumors before they could get as hot as this current one about a trade, and his response was only that this dinner conversation and resulting article was his denial of those rumors.

You always did get his news first, but you also talked to him every day whether the world knew that or not. Your reputation as the “Itoshi whisperer” came from your ability to look both Sae and Rin in the eye and ensure your questions were answered when you had them; Sae knew better than to snub you if he wanted your relationship to last, Rin apparently appreciated that you didn’t back down (but you had heard that from a third party, not the younger Itoshi, meaning more research was required there). Eventually the news would break that you were dating Sae, now making serious plans to move in together rather than living on separate continents with him rarely seeing his apartment during his offseason, which would answer a lot of questions from your colleagues and soccer fans as to why it was always you to break Sae news and why you were always right.

Sae’s usual diet is easy to detail, last night’s dinner had technically been a cheat meal but only because he’d had dessert and was certain they cooked the chicken in something fatty — but aside from that he’d had the same diet for at least three years. His training schedule had recently changed to include more strength training that he’d previously done and also CrossFit. He hated CrossFit but you were going to leave that out for the sake of his teammates who thought he was enjoying doing that exercise with them (not that he was trying to make friends, but you liked his teammates so you were going to protect feelings where you could). You knew his personal records so you included those for the die-hards that tracked Sae’s every statistic, but then you find yourself stuck again. That was the whole article in Sae’s opinion, but how were you supposed to end it?

“I’m gonna order food, since I know you haven’t eaten.”

You choose to ignore the accusatory tone, waving over your shoulder while requesting that he order from the Mediterranean place that had just opened. You were almost done, and you weren’t getting up until you felt finished — but now you were stuck on closing your article in a way that felt fulfilling. Conclusions were always the worst part, even in expository pieces, you weren’t sure you’d ever written something that had a conclusion you actually felt satisfied with before sending it to your editor.

“Sae?”

“Hm?”

“How would you end an article about having dinner with you?”

“I don’t have an answer to that,” he comments, and you turn to see that he’d made himself comfortable in the bean bag chair he’d put in the corner of your office. “But I will remind you that we should go out either today or tomorrow to get your ring sized to fit better.”

“Yeah, probably tomorrow since I’m not really feeling like going out today.” You state, looking at your left hand where the ring would sit after it fit better and feeling the lightbulb go off.

Perhaps that was how you solved all of your questions that had come up while working on this article. Announcing your engagement would make your relationship truly public, and would be the conclusion of your article since it had been the conclusion of your evening with Sae.

Your night had ended with Sae handing you a ring box; reminding you that you had told him a couple weeks ago that you wanted to marry him and that he’d agreed that night that you should get married. Apparently he'd ordered the ring that he’d spent the last couple months looking at online the very night and was waiting for the next time you two had a date night to give it to you.

“What do you think about announcing our engagement?”

“You’re the people person,” he says, and you watch as he stretches a bit before relaxing back into his seat. “I’m with you however you feel is best to go about that.”

You nod your understanding with a smile, receiving one of his sent your way before he goes back to his phone — the device now rotated and telling you he was watching a match but choosing to stay close to you when he could’ve been on the couch instead. But you’d decided on your ending, typing a few sentences summarizing the night and how much you enjoyed dinner with Sae.

I spent the evening with the best midfielder in the world, and ended the night engaged to him.

He’d have to proof read and edit it for you later, but you’re sure he’d keep that last line — Sae did love to show off.

#itoshi sae/reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #gn!reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #bllk x you #sae itoshi x you #itoshi sae fluff #sae fluff #bllk fluff #anyways #me writing sae without angst is RARE enjoy this

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tmwcs · 5 months ago

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PART ONE

Warnings: Nothing unusual to report…not yet. Just references from the last two fairy tales posted in Masterlist. This includes the teaser posted two days ago. If you’ve read the teaser, skip through until you see the red text. That’s where the additional part of the story continues.

“Young girl in the local area is the second to disappear without a trace. Authorities are on high alert and encourage all women to remain at home and avoid traveling alone.”

You click on the abrupt notification–the article details the two young women who vanished within the last six months. The first girl disappeared while traveling and visiting her grandmother’s house and another was on her way to a job interview at the local library, but never made it. The strange occurrences had everyone panicking and adhering to the extreme measures to avoid their daughters from being the next to abruptly disappear.

“Y/N, take the car and drop your sister off at her friend’s house.” your mother urges. Your younger sister was around the same age as the young girls who had disappeared, so it became understandable why her safety was paramount. Of course you weren’t excluded from concern, however, being that you were older and already on your way to finishing up your college education, it’s presumed that you were in the clear. At least that’s what the authorities stated in their public announcements.

“Take her, make sure you watch her enter the house before you drive off. Then come right back here, understand?” your mother’s strict orders were firm and left no room for argument. “Fine.” you answered quietly. Running errands and dropping off your younger sibling always came with the same warnings and specific instructions–nothing out of the ordinary.

The drive wasn’t terribly far–around twenty minutes. Sometimes you wonder why your family decided to reside in the suburbs–so far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been better had they considered moving closer? Considering that both your parents place of employment and your younger sister’s school, it would be so much more convenient had they found a neighborhood much closer.

“I feel so sorry for that girl–you know?”

Her voice interrupts your thoughts as you delicately come to a stop at the red light. “Are you talking about the one that just disappeared?”

“Yeah. She was so pretty too, just like the first one.” her voice was soft and tender, and just like those girls, your precious younger sibling couldn’t be excluded from the list of potential victims. No wonder your parents were always so concerned over her staying late for after school activities. With her traditional beauty and delicate frame, she was every kidnapper's dream.

Pulling up the driveway, you followed your mother’s instructions as ordered. Checking your phone, you send a text out to notify your parents that you both made it at the sleepover, when your sister's phone screen abruptly is placed in front of you, followed by a small giggle.

“What is that?” you sharply questioned, a slight annoyance accompanies your tone. “Isn’t it cute? I took it earlier today.”

Being the prankster that she was, it was no surprise that you became a pawn in your sister’s line of mischievous acts. “So uncool. Erase that.”

“Oh come on! I took it because you looked so pretty. You know, everyone always says the same thing–even in high school. Remember all those times you napped during the lunch hour? Everyone always said that you looked so pretty whenever you slept. Guess that’s why they always called you that name, huh?”

You let out a tiring sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” it was true–the nickname stuck with you even all through college when your friends carried the name over. They would always ask you in jest why you slept so often, and you wish you had an answer for them, but you never could come up with one. You don't know why–all your life you just felt so tired. Your pondering thoughts are interrupted once more when you hear your sister thanking you for the ride.

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty! Thanks for dropping me off! Love you!”

��……

The twenty minute drive back seemed much longer than before. Perhaps you’re just tired—all the assignments and study sessions were probably getting to you. You pull up and notice the other car gone. Did your parents go out?

You walk in and took the precautionary measures to lock the door behind. A small note is left propped on the dinner table, addressed to you:

‘Y/N, dinner is in the oven. Your dad and I went out to see some old friends—we will be back later. Love, mom.’

Well, there are worse things than to have an entire house all to yourself. The peaceful and quiet atmosphere was a pleasant contrast from the cyclic ruckus you grew to block out. For once, it was nice to not walk around with headphones and enjoy the stale sound of silence. Yet, it would appear you spoke too soon—your phone rings. Noticing the number, you answer half heartedly “hey girl.”

Your best friend answers with a myriad of giggles and knavery tone. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We have a few transfer students that came in and all of them are going to be at Jess’s party tonight. You coming?”

You sigh. “No, don’t think I will. I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired!” Your best friend berates in disappointment. “Come on! At least look at the photo I just sent! They’re gorgeous!”

You spare a half glance at the photo and saw a group of young men posing for a photo. “I can’t—I still have to finish some things and I really am so tired.”

“Fine! You’re no fun but I still love you.” She giggles as she bids you goodbye. The last bit of her words replayed in echoes as you eeee taken back to a time in high school where she said the very same thing before…

‘…You’re no fun, but I still love you.’

You’re quite certain your friend recalls the events that occurred afterwards, when she left you at the theater after you denied her invitation to skip out on class and to attend a social gathering. You had rejected her offer and remained in the projection room to nap for an hour before your next class began. That was when you had the strangest dream. Remnants of that moment came back like pieces of a puzzle when you recalled that time —the dream was vivid and felt so real. A figure walking up and presenting a beautiful red rose—doing so delicately as to not wake you. It was as if you err watching a grainy film as you witnessed the happenings—from him laying the flower in your hand, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead. The strangest bit was when you awoke for your next class, a rose was within your grasp. Yet, the projection room remained locked from the inside, leaving no margin for entry to anyone from the outside. Yet, still…no matter how many times you brushed it off, each moment you come back to that memory it just made you feel like something…something was—

*ring ring*

Your phone rings and you view the screen. You didn’t recognize the number so you ignored the call. The caller didn’t leave a voice message either, probably a scam call. You’ve been getting a lot of them lately.

Other than the two phone calls, your night was rather peaceful. You ate a light dinner and figured it would be best to start your reading materials before it gets too late. Washing the dishes, you scrubbed your plate in soapy water. The surface read covered by foamy bubbles, leaving the bottom elusive. A sharp prick stings the tip of your index finger, causing you to quickly retract your hand from the depths of the warm water. “What the hell?!”

You run the faucet on and rinse the wound under the fluid motion of the lukewarm stream and notice a single red dot. You drained the sink and didn’t notice any broken glass or dishes—what did you poke your finger on?

As the last remnants of soap and bubble spiral down the drain, your eyes caught on to something foreign from the steel background. Was that a…

“…a thorn?”

Your mind was boggled by the existence of a single rose thorn inside the sink. Strange. You held the thorn in hand and studied it for a second before your phone rang once more. It was your mother.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I’m just checking in. Did you eat?”

“Yeah.”

You remain somewhat calm as you ponder about the thorn while hearing your mother rant about locking all the doors and windows. “Yeah, got it. Hey mom—“

You quickly catch her before she starts to say her goodbye. “Did you get roses or something?”

“Oh yes—for our friends. I went to the store and grabbed a small bouquet, why?”

You rolled your eyes out of relief and suddenly found the entire situation comical. “Nothing. I just saw a rose thorn in the sink.”

“Oh yes, I had rinsed them in the sink and put them in a vase. Be Careful when washing dishes.”

“Yeeeeah.” Your tone was sarcastic but she didn’t seem to catch on. Instead, she bid you farewell and you both hang up.

Placing the phone down, you felt a wave of fatigue hit you abruptly. Normally you felt tired and lethargic, but never have you felt extremely exhausted so suddenly. Your eyesight became dizzy—your body starts to feel weak. “What the hell…is…”

You couldn’t understand where this sudden sensation of fatigue came from. It’s as overwhelming and nearly took over your entire body—to the point where you found it hard to stand. It was as if you were punched by the sandman. You stumble your way up the stairs—leaning against the bannister on your way up.

Tired…so tired…too tired.

Marching up, you finally reached your bedroom and plopped yourself atop your bed. The mixture of cool and warm temperatures overwhelm you as the texture of the linen absorbs your body heat—the cotton fabric comforting you. Drifting off, you only lasted seconds upon laying down when everything suddenly goes to black.

So sleepy…

Part Two

Taglist: @strxwbloody • @nshmrarki • @aquariushiiiii • @addictedtohobi • @nuriicata • @lilyuwon • @aanniikkaa •

#jay imagines #enha jay #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #jay x reader #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #Jay yandere #yahdere enhypen imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut

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asuyaka · 1 year ago

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This one is for you, baby!

★ - hellooo!!! original idea comes from sanjisboyfie <33 (user s so real but m more of a Zoro guy ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ )

☆ - Basketball Player Gojo Satoru x Male Reader!

♡ - CW: homophobia but you and Satoru deal with it!

If there's anything to know about Gojo Satoru, the top scorer of the 'Jujutsu' basketball team, is that he has a boyfriend.

And God does he love [Name] to the ends of infinity and back.

It was a scandal when the press first saw you two technically three since Satoru's best friend Suguru was there too together, doing the unthinkable.

Holding hands.

Articles and Magazines came out with headlines like "Player for the Kaisen Basketball team, Gojo Satoru is gay?!" or "Should kids be allowed to watch Gojo Satoru play?" came out. Every time during a game, there would always be someone who, without a doubt, asked if the rumors were true.

Their coach, Yaga Masamichi, advised Satoru to stay neutral on the situation until it blew over. But if there's one thing Gojo Satoru is not good at doing, it's following orders.

So, he brought you to a game one day. Bout you a court-side seat (even though it was expensive as hell), and made sure you were wearing his jersey.

He was playing against an almost equally talented team, the 'Cursed' with their star player, Itadori Sukuna (older brother to the friend of Satoru's son).

Thirty seconds before the last quarter ended, the score was tied, 104 to 104. Satoru had the ball, dribbling it down the court as time seemed to move faster.

He passed to Suguru, running down to the three-point line to make the last shot of the game.

Your heart was thumping violently against your chest, hands gripping the hem of Satoru's jersey as you watched the ball swish through the net as the end-game buzzer went off.

Cheers immediately erupted from the crowd as the ball bounced on the floor two final times, securing the Championship for Satoru's team.

What he does next surprises you. Satoru and Suguru don't do their usual handshake after winning a game—no— he makes a beeline towards you, using his wide arms to pick you up by your waist, and then he kisses you.

On National TV, in front of several people, with absolutely no shame.

Satoru smiles at you, it's full of teeth and nevertheless beautiful before putting you down.

That was when the public knew about how kind Gojo Satoru could be when he was not on the court and the only person who managed to pull that personality out of him.

Back to the present, you're sitting court-side again, way after the game was over, relaxing on your phone while Satoru and Suguru were looking to see who could make the most free-throws to decide who was paying for their victory food.

It was pointless, really, because they're both rich as shit so the competition was stupid, and Suguru was most likely going to win since free-throws were how he scored points 96.99% of the time.

Your throat feels a bit parched from all the cheering you were doing, so you get up with a yawn, stretching your body and rubbing your eyes slightly. "I'm gonna go get something to drink, maybe use the bathroom too."

Satoru turns to look at you with a smile. "Use my card and be back quick! Watch me dunk on Suguru's head!"

A ball slams against the back of his hair, a loud laugh erupting from behind him. "You can't score on me, your defense is ass."

Satoru grabs the ball with new-found malice in his eyes. "One-on-one, right now. Loser has to post whatever the other says on their Twitter account."

Suguru smirks. "Bet."

You roll your eyes at their antics as you put on Satoru's jacket. Satoru is tall, much bigger than you so the sleeves fall right past your arms. It looks like a dress on you, but that's how most of Satoru's clothes look, you've gotten used to it.

You use the bathroom, rolling Satoru's sleeves up as you start to wash your hands. The door opens, and a man walks in.

It's a bathroom, people are obviously going to enter inside so you pay it no mind. It starts to raise a few flags in your head when the man stays there, too close for comfort as his shoulder brushes against yours.

"You're dating that gay dude, right?"

The question takes you by surprise. You slowly go back to drying your hands, looking at the man through the mirror with a blank look on your face. "Excuse me?"

The man scoffs. "Don't play stupid. Gojo? You're the gaybo that's dating him, right?"

Now, you aren't a rude person. You don't believe in violence and while you'll stand up for yourself when needed, you aren't one to sit down and let yourself get disrespected. "Yes, I'm dating Satoru. Is that a problem?"

The man's face contorts in obvious disgust before turning into something malicious. "Fuckin' thought so. Now that your little boyfriend isn't here, me and you can talk, right?"

You unroll Satoru's sleeves and pull up the zipper. "I'm not interested, thank you though." You respond in a passive-aggressive tone, moving towards the door before a hand pushes you back.

"I said, we're going to talk, right?"

Your face hardens and you cross your arms. "And I said, I'm not interested. Now if you excuse me, I have a boyfriend that's waiting for me on the court."

The man stands before the door, using his frame to block the exit. Instantly dropping the 'nice guy' act, he stares at you like you're dirt underneath his shoe. "I never understood why people are gay. You seriously like taking it up the ass?"

That's where this was going.

You rub your temples as a long sigh leaves your lips. "Okay, great, can I leave now?"

"Can't you understand what I'm saying?!" The man raises his voice. "You're supposed to like—"

"Listen man," You interrupt with a bored expression. "I really don't care what you think of my relationship. I love Satoru, Satoru loves me, we're happy. Now, if you don't have anything else you want to tell me, I'll be leaving now."

As soon as you reach for the door knob, it slams open, colliding the man (and your hand) with the wall.

You wince harshly as you wave it around, profusely blowing on it as if it'd relieve the pain. Satoru's expression turns from confused to concerned very easily.

"Baby? Oh shit, I'm sorry..." He shushes you softly, bringing your hand to the sink to run some cold water over it.

"I won, by the way, Suguru sucks at basketball." Satoru mutters softly, like he's trying to distract you from the throbbing pain in your hand.

You nod gently as the pain slowly subsides. It isn't all the way gone, but it's bearable enough for you not to feel it as much. Satoru notices easily, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on it. "Feelin' better?"

"Yeah... thanks Satoru."

He smiles—it's the smile he only uses with you, it makes your heart giddy— placing a kiss on your forehead as he takes your other (unbruised) hand, leading you outside the bathroom.

Suguru is waiting, plainly dressed in a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, tearing his eyes away from his phone when he notices the two of you.

Satoru takes his bags and your bag, briefly leaving his hand from yours as he slings them over his shoulder. He's quick to reconnect them, putting his signature glasses on his face. "Ready, Suguru?"

Suguru flips him off, stuffing his phone in his pocket and fishing out his car keys. "You two make me homophobic."

"T'aww," Satoru teases, using his elbow to nudge it into Suguru's bicep. "Suguru jealous that he's single? That he won't have the privilege of dating the beautiful, handsome, pretty, attractive, alluring, eye-catching—"

"Oh my God, shut up!"

You laugh softly, thanking Satoru as he opens the door for you, closing it when you're secured inside and quickly going to the seat beside you.

The pain is your hand becomes an after thought as Suguru and Satoru keep bickering over the tiniest things, like the car mist Suguru uses, to how cold it is, and Suguru's lack of a significant other.

You sigh. Why would you pay attention to the pain in your hand when you have your boyfriend to look at?

He's a beautiful man after all, a man that you love from infinity and beyond.

Stars in the sky ☆

@sanjisboyfie

#writin' shit.#jjk x male reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jjk fluff #x male reader #male reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo x male reader #satoru x male reader #jjk #geto suguru #gojo #geto

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year ago

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Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas

Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.

“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.

“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”

“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.

“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”

“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake.

Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”

He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it.

Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours.

Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.

You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs.

You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms.

“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands.

“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.

“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”

Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”

“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”

“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”

You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.

“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”

“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly.

“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”

You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours.

“Would you like something else, mamie?”

You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly.

A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado.

“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”

You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race.

“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt.

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”

“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”

Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.

You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.

“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”

Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”

Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.

“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”

The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”

“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”

“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.

It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.

Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.

“Shit, sorry, Logan.”

“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.

“I’m fine, but you knew?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”

You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”

Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”

You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”

“Not as exciting as a baby.”

“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”

His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.

Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”

“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.

“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.

“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.

You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”

To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.

You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.

One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head.

“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see.

“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”

Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.

“Somewhere warm.”

“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.

You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”

The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you.

“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear.

“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly.

You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset.

“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race.

“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track.

“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles.

Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.

“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”

“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff?

“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there.

“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”

“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears.

Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”

Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum.

“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him.

“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”

“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow.

“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”

“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers.

A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side.

“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away.

You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”

Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.

“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed.

“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”

Click here for the next part.

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