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#do those two opinions' even matter?
lady-corrine · 4 months
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One of the (many) reasons I deeply dislike the "Annie and Finnick's wedding was only a propaganda move that meant absolutely nothing to anyone" take is that is... simply not accurate?
It is often claimed Plutarch had Finnick and Annie intentionally wear Peeta and Katniss' outfits to send some type of message, but that means to completely ignore how it was Katniss herself that offered to give Annie a dress for her wedding:
“when Plutarch has a fit over what the bride will wear — I volunteer to take Annie back to my house in 12, where Cinna left a variety of evening clothes in a big storage closet downstairs.”
How Peeta himself also made their wedding cake:
“As surely as the embroidery stitches in Annie’s gown were done by Cinna’s hand, the frosted flowers on the cake were done by Peeta’s.”
And to also disregard how everyone else felt and how happy and excited they were to be part of it:
“When it’s announced that children are wanted to sing District 4’s wedding song, practically every kid shows up. There’s no shortage of volunteers to help make decorations. In the dining hall, people chat excitedly about the event.”
All in all, it means to brush aside how everyone perceived their wedding as simply something good, genuinely so, and nothing linked to a false spectacle:
“Maybe it’s more than the festivities. Maybe it’s that we are all so starved for something good to happen that we want to be part of it.”
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doctorwhoisadhd · 3 months
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can everyone stop shipping the doctor romantically and level with me on relationship anarchy
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detectivenyx · 2 years
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💥Teruteru...'s mom
like omg, teruteru's mom was SO underused, kodaka is such a shitty writer for not giving her her own subplot about *spins wheel* ... her miscarried daughter and how she was dealing with her son's *throws dart* ... new boyfriend from an exchange class, eventually leading to her discovering *reaches into a hat and pulls out a wet tissue* ... that she was actually patient zero for covid-19. like it's SUCH wasted potential.
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reasonsforhope · 6 months
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No paywall version here.
"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...
In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.
Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.
But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.
I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.
In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.
For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.
And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.
Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.
[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]
And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.
The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.
I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.
To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.
The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.
Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.
I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."
-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.
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ursie · 7 months
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Brennan’s statement on Palestine :
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[ ID: Statement from Brennan Lee Mulligan, on Instagram. It consists of three black squares with plain white text. The text reads as follows:
"I'm calling on my government officials to immediately demand a ceasefire and de-escalation in Gaza.
I applaud anyone and everyone calling for peace, with the understanding that real peace only exists if it deeply and honestly accounts for and fully ends violence in all its forms. Real peace addresses and corrects wrong-doing in the past and guards against it in the future. It goes hand in hand with justice and requires truth, restoration, reconciliation, reparation.
Peace cannot co-exist with collective punishment, ethnic cleansing and forced displacement. It cannot co-exist with blockades, embargoes, or with 2.2 million people, half of which are children, trapped with no hope of escape or political recourse. it cannot co-exist with murdered journalists, bombed hospitals, or years of protesters being shot and killed at the border. it cannot co-exist with illegal settlements, segregated roads, and the silent, imperial chill that settles over the gaps in the violence - the unspoken geopolitical consensus that a group of people need to unflinchingly accept permanent subjugation and occupation.
My hear breaks for every Israeli person who lost loved ones during the attacks of October 7th. It breaks for every Ukrainian person who has lost their loved ones. It breaks for every Congolese person who has lost their loved ones. I do not speak on behalf of Palestinians now because some lives are worth more than others. I speak on their behalf because I, and all Americans, have a responsibility to pressure our government because we are responsible for this. Some have said that this situation is complicated. The Unites States government clearly disagrees. It has definitively, categorically, militarily chosen a side, and I do not agree with that decision.
In wiring this, I have been wrestling with what I am sure many people like me wrestle with: There is a powerful narrative surrounding violence in the Middle East that asserts and ever-moving goalpost of self-education and study in order to even be qualified to have an opinion. As someone with a love of research, I have at times in my life fallen into the trap that I am not educated enough clever enough, or aware enough to have a worthwhile perspective, and that three more articles and two more lectures and one more book will do the trick. Unfortunately, democracy doesn't work that way - we, the citizens of any democracy, cannot possibly be experts on every aspect of the policies of our governments, and yet if we do not constantly weigh in an make our voices heard, the entire experiment falls apart. Not only do people constantly doubt themselves and the things they can see with their own two eyes, but old shortcuts for political action can fall apart as well: This specific issue exists along a raw, charged and unique faultline in American Politics. Nobody I grew up with has ever challenged me on my support for abortion rights, LGBT rights, Black Lives Matter, anti-capitalism, anti-fascism, none of it. The people in my country who would despise me for those positions are, for all intents and purposes, strangers to me. But there are people who I've broken bread with and shared honest affection with who will see the words I've written here and incorrectly conclude that I do not wish for the security, dignity and happiness of them and their loved ones, and that breaks my fucking heart. Full-throatedly condemning the actions of the Israeli government while battling rampant anti-semitism at home is an urgent moral necessity, and doing so is made unnecessarily challenging for the average person to navigate by the pointed obfuscations of cynical opportunists, bigots, and demagogues on all sides of the political spectrum who see some advantage in sowing that incredibly dangerous confusion.
So, I'm calling my representatives. I'm having hard conversations with friends and family. I'm here, talking to you. I should have done it sooner. If you're Israeli and hurt by this statement, know that I want freedom, dignity, security and peace for you, and that every ounce of my political awareness believes whole-heartedly that the actions of your government are not only destroying innocent lives, but doing so to the detriment of you and your loved ones' safety. If you're American and feel lost and confused - I understand and empathize. This, the whole country, only works when we get involved. I am constantly haunted by the specter that maybe I missed some crucial piece of information on this, or any, important world event. I'll just have to make my peace with that self-doubt and trust my gut by going with Jewish Voice for Peace, Amnesty International, the Geneva Conventions, the United Nations, etc. And if you're Palestinian and reading this: I unreservedly support your right to life, to freedom, to happiness and human flourishing, to full enfranchisement and equal rights, to opportunity, prosperity and abundance, to the restoration of stolen property and land, and to a Free Palestine." End ID ]
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itostea · 11 months
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the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)
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gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.
warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)
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The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 
He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 
Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 
Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 
Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 
At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 
Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 
You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 
“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 
You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 
“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”
“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 
You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”
“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 
Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 
His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”
Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”
“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 
His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 
He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 
You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.
You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.
It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”
You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”
“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.
You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”
For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 
“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 
He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 
You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 
He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”
Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.
He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”
It’s a vow he swears to keep. 
“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”
He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 
Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 
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mrfoox · 1 year
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I love how i have... Kinda clear things/traits I don't like. But then I find them in people around me and I'm like 'hmmm... Yeah it's okay if it's you'
#miranda talking shit#I dont like people who always have to be right. Linnea and oliver loves being right and will argue to get to hear theyre correct#(with them i intentionally cause discorce and pull out proof when i know im not wrong. Normally i dont care but with them... I'll not let#Them have that satisfaction so easily. I dont like people who talk over me/interrupt me. Once again those two. But usually they do come#Back and let me continue my sentence.#I dont like people who remind me of my dad in any way. Sooo... Being into vehicles. Thats magnus but i love hearing him talk about that#Being passive/answering everything with an 'okay' instead of giving ones opinion or an elaborate answer. Fabin does this all the time#Bossy/wants to decide everything. Maya and linnea to some degree. Its funny bc all these things i see or notice#In people and they bug me so badly. But i spot them in people i love already and im like.... No that's okay#If im in a bad mood these things can annoy me but 9/10 times or more they don't. Like with fabian#I think its bc i know its... In a different way? He doesnt say okay as an way to show indifference. He does it to acknowledge what i say#Plus i mean.... I know olive got adhd so i am more linient with him interrupting me. I do tell him off sometimes tho#But its... Funny how much i look past or basically ignore of things i dislike when theyre in people i cherish#Cant even say i suppress my feelings or something i just .... See it differently when those traits are on people i already love#Then its more of an package deal i guess . Part of them? And i lovd them so those small things dont matter
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fairymosh · 1 year
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bruh
#i personally cant stand when people ship logan & louise in bob's burgers#like first of all he's in HIGH SCHOOL & she's in ELEMENTARY#like idgaf that 'after a few years the age gap wont matter!' its creepy and weird#he's 7 years older than her AND he's a bully???! hello??!#logan is a DICK to her and her siblings jfc chasing them and shit just to torment them hell no#it also feels very strongly like some misogynistic bs#that ship is giving 'boys are mean to the girls they like' like supposedly these die hard bob's fans that ship them together want her to be#in an awful relationship where she 'fixes' him somehow and thats gross#i read a fanfic once about them in a bob's comment section (so against my own will and i wanted to throw up) this lady made this whole#ass elaborate story about louise meeting logan again 'in college'#like ew bitch louise would be like 19. he should be interested in dating women his own age group. & that aside like#he's a horrible bully to her. he stole her bunny ears and lied to her about it and she didnt even do anything wrong. those boys wouldnt let#kids cross that area to get home and louise was like nah fuck that im gonna say something. her interactions with logan are used as a device#to tell stories of her bravery. and gene's bravery that time he stood in for her when logan wanted to give her a reverse norwegian#stinkhold (she's a child. fuck logan for wanting to do that to a 9 year old girl just bc she pissed him off) and gene didnt deserve that#that said. her interactions w him are a device to express bravery and courage against an ANTAGONIST character. not some gross 'romance'#and hello??! are we ignoring the fact that louise was freaked that rudy liked her then was disappointed that he liked chloe?!#she literally kisses rudy & ppl are still being dumb as fuck out here shipping her w logan. hell no. find another set of characters to ship#ask yourselves why the fuck you like louise and logan together so much. you're projecting and what you're projecting is very distorted#im not sorry for my opinion. i feel its morally balanced and its very Immoral for people to ship those two characters
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chrollohearttags · 6 months
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aot boys + ovulation week (feat. armin, eren, ony, connie, jean and reiner)
exactly as it sounds, another one of my early morning thoughts getting the best of me..a little drabble, nothing more lmao! This is also filthy
content + themes: black coded reader, ovulation, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, squirting, masturbation, birth control, brief mentions of anal sex, spit play, fingering and some other thingsss
📝: this literally came to me out of nowhere. They are not fact or gospel, just my own opinion. But I could be wrong, feel free to change it how you please.
* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|
eren • the tease: the second he gets wind that you’re ovulating, it’s almost as if he takes the shit as a challenge. He doesn’t directly say anything but he notices the signs fairly quickly. The way you clench your thighs together when he’s around, flustering when he has no shirt on, etc. he finds it so cute in fact that he can’t help but to make your life harder. It’s not a matter of if you’ll cave to your urges but when and he definitely tries to speed up the process. Smirking once he realizes why you’re acting so strange. Walking around the house in gray sweatpants with no boxers, touching you even more so than he already does and is just incredibly flirtatious. Even grabbing your waist as he walks past you in the kitchen. “What’s wrong, princess? You look a lil’ tense, c’mere.” “I’m fine, Eren. I promise..” but he knows better than that when he catches you touching yourself because he happened to say something in passing earlier in the day that turned you on. (mind you: he called you a ‘good girl’ whilst the two of you were doing your morning workouts because you finished a set) but he doesn’t care..now that he sees you writhing around, spreading yourself open and stuffing those nimble little fingers in that dripping pussy, he’s glad to come help. “Look at you..so cute. I knew it.” And you’re in for it now because it doesn’t take long before he’s got you in his lap, back pressed to his chest with your legs spread completely apart as his larger digits are now thrashing around inside of you with a thumb on your clit and he’s whispering in your ear. Pinching your nipples and even kissing on your neck whilst he watches you turn into a drooling mess. “…You just needed me to come help you out. I’m right here..let daddy take care of you, baby..imma stretch that shit out. Use all them’ pretty holes..how’s that sound?”
armin • the sneak: he’s not dumb by a long shot! If anybody can sense when it’s that week for you, it’s him. The brainiac even has it down to a science..even if you don’t tell him, he can guess from the time you’re off your cycle till then. And once he does guess correctly, he’s on the hunt then and you’re his prey. He tries to use reverse psychology and all the other nonsense to lure you in. He clearly sees you’re trying to avoid him and not cave because he knows you’ll pounce like a wild animal the second you do. He’ll say things along the lines of: “it’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” Or “..I just thought you looked so pretty today, that’s all. I couldn’t help myself but I understand. We can wait until you’re ready.” After an intense makeout session that stops right before things get too far gone. And while he’s playing his little innocent act, you're frothing between your thighs and praying that he rips your clothes off right then and there. He also gets a kick out of seeing you get aroused by the simplest things. For example, when he’s fixing something in the house and his veins protrude from his hands and you wish it was your throat he was squeezing. It doesn’t take two hours, less known a week for you to give in and all but beg him to fuck you! And he’s excited because this man all but dreams of getting you pregnant! “I’ll give you whatever you want, sweetheart..all you have to do is ask.” Declaring as you find yourself on your knees, swallowing his dick whole (because he knows it gets you so wet) before he lightly cups your chin and fills your mouth with spit before rewarding you with a kiss. “Might even put a baby in you..you’ll look so fucking good.”
onyakopon • the pleasure dom: this man…this man right here. You might as well be prepared to block his damn number because he’ll have you ready to live in his skin when it’s all said and done. He knows you’ll try to evade him and act as if you’re just busy but he knows. He can tell you’re nervous around him or not wanting to make eye contact but he wants you to admit it. Tell him what it is that’s really on your mind. “What you acting so shy ‘round me for? Don’t be like that, ma. I’m your man. You can tell me anything.” As if he doesn’t already know you want him to use you as a fleshlight and make you come until you’re seeing stars. That much is apparent by the way you’re rubbing up on his chest, twirling his gold chain and biting the tip of your finger whilst you’re laying in bed. “What’s up with you, mama? Sum’ on your mind? Tell me what you want..” And it doesn’t take him long to deduce or figure things out when you start to move that hand lower towards his gym shorts. Naturally, he strives to give you exactly what you want so moments later, he’s between your thighs, allowing you to rub on his head; wrapped with a silk durag as he devours your pussy. Sucking and lapping on your clit…drinking in your juices. He knows you get wet but it’s not even a full ten minutes of him pleasuring you that you found yourself squirting into his mouth. Of course, there isn’t a single complaint from your man. He lives for it! “Lemme have that shit..c’mon, baby.” Adamant on the fact that he’s not coming up until he’s certain you’re satisfied. Fuck his own pleasure. And once he sets you atop his dick, bouncing you up and down, he’s focusing solely on you. On your orgasms, on the way your body reacts and especially how much you’re gushing down his shaft with those creamy juices. Squeezing him so tight as if you don’t want to let go. “Take that dick, baby..get your nut. That’s all I’m worried ‘bout right now. Get your fucking nut.”
connie • the freak: mr. constance shows no restraint as is but when you’re ovulating, it goes from bad to worse. Because he knows you won’t hold back either. So nothing is off limits! Every position, every kink, every type of nasty, salacious thing you can think of, he’s using this week as a means to let them all out. Your sex drive is super high so he’s matching your energy tenfold. “Imma fuck the shit out you, wait till I get home.” Vowing with conviction when you send him videos and texts throughout the day filled with freaky treats. The stuff you’re saying to one another is down right deplorable but you love every moment of it. He gets especially excited when you send him a small clip of you touching yourself and the web of arousal is twirled around your nails. You find yourselves engaging in every debaucherous activity possible from letting him bend you over the kitchen counter, legs spread open as he pounds you relentlessly..hands on your throat, hand roped between your thighs as it strokes your clit and you’re so sensitive, he loves it. He’s kissing on your neck, telling you how pretty you look. It’s bliss for the both of you. But then things intensity and Connie is NAWT playing. When you keep begging him for more, he doesn’t hesitate. He does everything he can to fulfill your filthy urges. Exploring every kink that you guys have wanted to try. Sucking toes, spitting in your mouth, fucking your throat..he’s using every hole you have. Even that one..he may even throw some liquor or weed into the mix and things really get fun. “Open that shit up, baby. That ass feels so fucking good. Love how nasty you get f’r me..” y’all literally never rest when that week rolls around!
jean • the bedroom bully: jean is a whole lover boy, no doubt..but he’s lowkey a bully in bed! Jean sort of likes it rough and he lovesss that you never shy away from telling him how you’re feeling…sometimes! When you’re ovulating, it depends on how you’re acting and how he’ll proceed. If he knows you’re in the mood and you’re being a bit more aggressive than usual, he’s with it. He’s loving that you’re tugging at his belt buckle, begging to suck him off.. “yeah, baby? That’s what you want? So what are you waiting for…suck this fucking dick.” Petting your head on the way down and trust, he’s not gentle about it. Even making you hold it in place.. “this is what you wanted, right? For me to treat you like a little slut? C’mon, baby..answer me.” Slapping your cheek in the process. If he’s feeling extra rude, he might deprive you. If you’re acting a little shy, he’s gonna find out what’s going on. He’s aware that you can’t control yourself and he doesn’t hold it against you (but he certainly exploits it!) When he sees you on your phone and acting a little secretive, he gets curious..only to find out you’ve been watching porn and he had a field day! “You’re really something else this week..” Pushing you against a wall, shoving his fingers into your panties and roughly grasping your chin as he forces you to keep eye contact. “What’s this? Can’t even wait for me, huh? That’s alright, I’ll take care of you.”
reiner • the breeder: good god, need I say more?! This man’s breeding kink stays on go as is but when ovulation week rolls around, you have to all but lock his ass out of the house because he’s going to be on you so bad and honestly, you want it. You want him just as desperately so you have to be the one to exercise caution because you know he won’t! You’re up against the kitchen counter or folding laundry and he’s all up on you..touching, kissing and licking on every inch of your skin, just not wanting to let go.. “Reiiii, baby..we can’t, not right now.” Whole time, you’re dripping between your thighs, your nipples are erect and you even find yourself whimpering and rutting yourself against him. “Really, sugar? Because the way you’re grinding on my dick says otherwise.” And it’s on from there, you cave! You cave bad..allowing him to bend you over right there, hoisting your skirt up and fucking you like an animal. You’re both so unhinged and primal; moving about the house in different positions, getting filled in each spot. He’s filled you with so much cum, he can barely even stay in it. You’re scratching at his back, faintly grasping him because you’re terribly overstimulated. “C’mon, darling. You can take one more f’r me. You’re gonna look so good when I fill you up..give you my baby.”
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
Text
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 — squirting
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
warnings: shy!reader (not "innocent" or inexperienced, just a little more reserved). penetrative sex.
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Chrissy didn't know what she was doing.
It was an innocent question — as innocent as the questions being raised could be, that night. The conversation had quickly descended into more risqué subjects after Steve had gotten a little too tipsy and started complaining about his lack of luck on his latest escapades.
Nothing out of the ordinary, really. You were all used to talking about sex in one way or another. Eddie was famously loud about it, always having a story to tell, his or otherwise. Stories that made you imagine yourself on the receiving end of, guiltily wanting your friend to do those same things he was describing to you.
You kept those fantasies to yourself, though. Not wanting to be teased by the girls, maybe even worse, have them try to set you up with him. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if Eddie ever rejected you, or dated you out of pity. There was no scenario where this would work in your mind, no "you and Eddie", just you and your thoughts of him, where he would never hurt you, where all he did was make you feel good, imagining it his hands on your body, roaming until they found that place between your legs, instead of your own.
That night, it was no different. After Steve started the conversation, there was no stopping it. You often listened more than talked — not due to lack of experience, you were just a little too shy to share too much, even among close friends — but when the talk switched to Robin commenting about making her girlfriend squirt, you slipped.
"Good for her."
Your reply may have sounded a little more bitter than you'd anticipated, because, one by one, all of your friends looked at you. Maybe it was the scoff that has left your mouth, maybe it was the alcohol that had loosened your tongue. 
"What was that?" Nancy asked, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you.
"Yeah. What was that?" This time, it was Eddie who repeated her question. He sat on the opposite couch with his legs spread, tight black jeans stretching on his lean legs, making you wish you sat between them. You avoided his eyes.
"Nothing. I mean…", you signed, already regretting having said anything, "it's good! Good for her. Robin is good to her, that's a good thing."
You cringed even before you could finish all those convoluted sentences.
"Honey, have you ever… you know," Chrissy asked from her place on the floor, sitting as delicate as a fairy. "squirted?"
"No." You said, simply. Scared to run your mouth even more. "It's not a big deal. Doesn't happen to everybody."
"Have you tried?" Steve asked from behind his beer. He got a myriad of answers ranging from "that's not how It works, dingus!" from Robin, "it's not a matter of trying" from Nancy and "don't ask that, dude" from Eddie.
"I don't even know where to start, Steve. And before anyone asks, yes, I have cum from sex. Just not… like that."
You wanted to crawl into the nearest hole. It was even worse when you could feel Eddie's eyes on you, like he could see right through you. He tilted his head, and you weren't able to handle the kindness in his brown eyes. You looked away.
Your friends' opinions diverged again, making questions and trying to get you to speak, but you couldn't deal with their scrutiny anymore.
"C'mon, guys. It's fine! Can we change the subject, please?" You tried to swerve them. "Like I said, it's not a big deal. Maybe I'm just broken like that."
They shrugged. You shrugged. They moved on — but Eddie's eyes stayed on you for the rest of the night.
You're on Eddie's passenger seat, right in front of your apartment building, later that night when he brings the subject up again.
"I don't think you're broken."
The two of you had spent the entire ride silent, which was odd since Eddie was the chatterbox between the two of you, always filling the gaps with anything that would cross his mind. Neither that, nor his music filled the silence between you.
"What?" You looked at him, still not believing what you'd heard.
"You said that maybe you were broken like that. That's not true, you're… you're perfect."
That feeling of wanting to hide came back tenfold, making your eyes fill with tears. "Eddie, forget about it, please."
"Hey," he brought your gaze back to him with a finger to your chin, delicately turning your head. "I meant what I said. You're perfect, it's just that no one's taken the time to treat you right. It takes patience, from both sides."
"Yeah, and?"
"I was thinking that maybe I could change that. If you'd let me."
One thing you'd always admired about Eddie was his strength of conviction. He never said anything he didn't believe in, and backed it all up. His voice never faltered, he doesn't shy away from speaking his mind — and you hated that you were forcing yourself to disbelieve him.
"Eddie…"
"Look at me." He pleaded, and in spite of your concerns, you did as he told. His eyes bore into your with a sincerity that was so painfully him. "You can say no. I'll go home and we'll forget about everything I just said. But, sweetheart… I'm dying to prove you wrong."
Eventually, he did.
After you'd gotten up the stairs to your floor kissing and tugging at each other's clothes, letting Eddie's tongue taste yours over and over, stopping to let yourself be cornered against the wall by him. Getting lost in the feeling of his solid body against yours, the smell of him — a strong, masculine perfume, cigarettes and beer — making you dizzy, his lips on your neck making you even dizzier.
After he took your clothes off halfway down your living room, reverencing your body with his rough hands, kneeling between your feet in the middle of your halfway. He made you cum for the first time that night with his mouth, kissing your pussy the way he kissed your mouth, sucking on your clit the same way he sucked on your tongue. You came as you pulled his hair, his strong arms around your hips preventing you from falling.
After he guided you to your bed, still craving a taste of you. Hands not knowing where to sit still while he pulled another orgasm from you, his fingers deep within you, curling and stroking your walls, his mouth still not leaving your clit. Your ears buzzed with the force of your climax, not being able to hear Eddie's praise. "That's my girl," he said, head resting on the plush of your thigh, looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky, "doing such a good job, but I'm not done with you yet."
After he made your eyes blur with pleasure when you finally entered you, rubbing the head of his cock on your sensitive bundle of nerves, once, twice, three times before putting it in, slowly bottoming out. Leaving kisses all over your face, shining with sweat. You didn't think you could take it, curling your toes and hugging his narrow hips with your spread legs, feeling each thrust with a tenderness you never did before.
After he filled and stretched you to the brim, pulling out only to push it all in again. Uttering against your skin, broken whimpers, your name on his lips like a prayer. You were beyond the point of forming words, kissing him to stop yourself from screaming. You could feel yourself dripping down your pussy, and into the sheets, soaking Eddie's cock.
After he pulled your thigh higher up his waist, and stood on his knees, pounding into you with measured speed. He hit your spot over, and over, and over — you grabbed the sheets with both hands, repeating his name like a broken record, music to his ears.
"Yeah? That feels good, baby? Am I making you feel good?" Eddie looked like a god above you. Wild hair down to his shoulders, pale skin slick with sweat, eyes drilled on you. You made the mistake of looking down to where your bodies met, watching his thick cock drenched with your juices, going in and out of you. His pubic hair, also matted with your wetness, creating a delicious friction against your clit. "Tell me. Who's making you feel this good?"
"You, Eddie." You whimpered. "You, you, you. Always you."
"That's right, baby. That's" a hard thrust, "fucking," a a squeeze of your thigh, "right."
You felt your orgasm approach with a  deep pressure on your navel, building and building until you couldn't keep It down anymore. You let yourself go, the ringing in your ears louder and cleared, cumming with Eddie's name on your lips.
That's when you felt it. You were limp in your bed, with Eddie above you. You'd felt him cum too, dropping his weight above you, but still keeping himself steady by his elbows. but everything was distant, like it was happening in a dream. Slowly, you came back to yourself — to Eddie, gently coaxing you with sweet words, and to the warm wetness coating your thighs, your ass, and Eddie's lower half.
"Did I…?"
"Fuck yeah, you did." His boyish smile, so different from the confident smirk you saw not moments ago, made you smile too, weakly and still a little embarrassed, but too satisfied to care.
"Happy now?"
"Only when you do it again." 
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markster666 · 4 months
Note
Hey! I noticed you write smut for everyones favorite deer man. Episode 5 was getting to me with those tentacles! i was wondering if you could write something to do with that when you get the chance? 👀
Yes I do! Your wish is my command. <33
ALASTOR X READER (SMUT/18+) - TENTACLES
Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader
Tags: Smut, 18+, Double Penetration, Tentacles, Porn without much plot, Daddy Kink, Master Kink, Pet Kink, Sensory Deprivation, CNC, and other stuff lol
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Word Count: 863
A/N: Thank you so much to @thatdeadstoat for taking the time and effort to put in this prompt request. I'm so happy with all the Alastor lore and screen time lol. Unedited, so apologies for spelling mistakes. Requests are open.
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You heard Alastor's microphone cane tapping the ground as he walked down the hallway to your room. You couldn't even see his face but you could FEEL the seething energy rising from him. He didn't even knock as he busted open your door, slamming it roughly behind him and leaning against it.
"I don't know WHY Charlie thought it was a brilliant idea to bring that low life to this hotel. I despise him with a furious passion."
You shrugged very slightly and sat up in your bed, pausing the tv show you were watching.
"It's her father, Alastor. They're blood. At least he's trying."
Alastors ears furrow back as he squints at you.
"I can't believe you're justifying him, my Dear! I taught you so much better than that."
You bit your lip.
"I was just trying to state my opinion-"
You cut yourself off as he purposely made a threatening walk towards you, his eyes filled with a cannibalistic nature.
"Your opinion doesn't matter in this bedroom, my Dear, I'm CERTAIN i've made that clear, no? Do you need a reminder?"
Before you could open your mouth to speak, his tentacles appeared out of thin air, one of them wrapping around your mouth like a gag and the others pinning you to the bed on your stomach, wrapped around your body like a bunch of rope to keep your arms locked to your side. Alastor got on top of you, straddling the small of your back and wrapping a hand around your throat, squeezing gently on the sides. He pulled your hair aggressively up and got close to your ear,
"Not like you had much of a choice anyways, little one. If you're a good pet, I might let you feel some of your own pleasure, but for now, let your Master let off some steam, hm?"
The tentacle around your mouth tightened as you desperately nodded, trying to murmur something to him but instead it comes out as groans.
"What was that, my Dear? I can't hear you."
He was obviously mocking you. His grin grew wider.
"Since you can't keep your opinionated mouth shut, that restraint is not going anywhere. If I hear you try to speak, I will not give you relief. Do I make myself clear?"
You nodded, feeling your core heat up and the wetness starting to spill down your legs.
"Good."
He gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before slamming your face into the pillow, ripping down your pants and feeling your pussy through your panties.
"Oh my! I haven't even DONE anything yet, Princess! Maybe you really DO need this!"
He moved your panties to the side and inserted a two fingers into your cunt, not giving you much time to adjust before pumping them out as fast as he could. You instinctively arched your back before moaning out in overstimulation as he pushed your face harder into the pillow, his hand entangled in your hair.
He kept going for a good bit before stopping, slapping your ass once before letting go of your hair. You were panting and whimpering and felt your juices dripping down your thighs onto the bed.
You felt humilated and he felt like a god.
Before you could catch your breath, you instantly felt Alastor press into your pussy all the way to the hilt, filling you up in just the perfect way. His ears furrowed back as he gripped your hips tighter.
"Goooood girl, you take me so well. Now, just be still and let Daddy breed you."
You were a moaning whimpering mess as he started fucking you into the mattress, his tentacles still wrapped around your body and your mouth. He had an animalistic rage inside of him making him grasp at every part of you, trying to fuck you as deep as he could.
And you loved every second of it.
He kept going for awhile before you felt something push against your asshole. You winced and then moaned in pure pleasure as one of his tentacles inserted itself into it, both holes now being used and filled up.
You bit against the tentacle keeping your mouth in place while you were being brutalized by the deer demon. You were moaning so loud you could probably guess everybody was hearing this.
It wasn't long until Alastor was close, his thrusts become more sloppy and his grip on your hips becoming tighter. You felt yourself getting close to.
"Cum for me."
You instantly came at the sound of his voice and he came too, pushing as deep as he could go. You two stayed in that position for awhile, catching your breathes before he took his tentacles out of you and from around you and himself out as well. You tried to stand up to use the restroom to empty his seed out but he stopped you,
"Ah ah, at least give it 10 minutes, Pet."
He gave you a small kiss on the forehead and dressed himself, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"Thanks Alastor... I guess I really did need that."
His grin grew as wide as it could.
"Good girl."
⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆
A/N: Thank you so much for everybody who has read! Your support means the world to me. If you didn't know, I will be participating in Kinktober (except in February lol) with some pretty smutty prompts starting February 1st and going on all month, so if you like my writing and want some more Alastor x reader smuts, please consider following. Lots of love.
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luminiamore · 1 month
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ALLURE.
plug connie springer x black stripper reader
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warnings: boy is down bad, a little bit of mikasa x reader??, mikasa is famous heree, connie is a tease, he’s also hispanic asf, ya’ll didn’t even make it to the club, hints of yandere, mirror action, he fucks u while he’s crossfaded, wall sex, he talks a lot, dude is rambling, good ole cream pie, gotta love breeding
a/n: i got carried away (⌒_⌒;)
can you guys tell i like my men desperate lol, this is so long i might make this a series (4.9k words)
one down, like five more to goooo
masterlist
The lifestyle of stripping was something you truly couldn’t get enough of. The late nights. The smooth poles. Dancing on those smooth poles. And most importantly, the money. Oh fuck, how you loved the money. Living the fast life gave you such a rush that you adored it just as much as you hated it.
It’s not your first choice, not by a long shot. You were raised in Jamaica, New York. And your parents., you loved them. Honestly, you did, but you would probably be the most miserable person in the world if you kept heeding their strict Christian views.
You tried everything to reach up to their impossibly high standards. They wanted you to get an A in every assignment? Try A+. They wanted you to wear less revealing clothes because ‘No man will ever want you’? You’re showing up to your classes in turtlenecks just to keep their mouths shut.
You even made it a routine to clean the entire house top to bottom on Sundays since they started complaining that ‘You never do anything around this house.’ It was beyond annoying. You were fucking tired.
Growing up in Notre Dame School of Manhattan was nothing short of horrible. Proclaimed ‘good girls’ snorting more than half a line of coke in the school bathrooms. Drugs you aren’t even sure how they got access to, but then again, they are rich white kids. Teachers and hypocritical professors pretend to be oblivious to the bullshit drama their students are in. Your parents’ oblivion for keeping you here is even greater. Even after sharing stories with them, they would advise you to be more like the students at your school.
It was a miracle you didn’t turn out that far gone, despite what your profession is currently. You’ve smoked a little weed here and there. Experience some sort of awakening tripping off shrooms the weekend your parents took a trip to Barbados.
Without you, of course. Despite this, you were always taken care of. Your differences in opinion would never justify their abandonment of you. You knew they loved you when they got you a ticket to see The Weeknd live after you got a perfect score on your final, not after telling you their opinions on the matter, of course.
‘I don’t know why you listen to such devil music.’
‘I should’ve never gotten you this trash.’
The guilt you felt for wanting to have fun kept you from almost going. You went anyway, choosing to avoid allowing their misery to affect you.
Everything was fine; you played along with this draining game, and everything was fine. Until they decided to kick you out for finding a small baggie of blow (that wasn’t even yours) peeking out from the top of your purse. You don’t even know how it got there.
Honestly, you didn’t. You tried to communicate that while they were packing all the clothes they could find in your closet into two medium-sized luggage bags. But they wouldn’t listen, opting for screaming so loud you could see the neighbors peeking through the window. At the very least, they were kind enough not to throw them onto the concrete ground. Their stubbornness was unyielding. You just couldn’t get through to them.
You were able to rent an apartment you had put a deposit on a month before this happened because of the money in your savings account. Unfortunately, your funds were only sufficient for rent for two months due to groceries and other necessities.
When graduation came, your parents were nowhere to be found, so you realized that you had to find a means of earning money before you ended up sleeping on the streets.
You tried looking for a ’regular’ job -- a barista, a waitress, even applied to be a fucking bartender. It’s not as easy as it seems when those who already have one talk about finding a job. Why do they claim that they need to hire immediately and yet still reject you? Considering that your lack of work experience prevents you from being hired, you feign a little on your resume. Turns out, you’re not a very good liar.
Where was pretty privilege when you needed it?!
Despite applying to 500 companies, none could offer you a job within the next two weeks, which happened to be when your rent was due.
You really had no other option. You took your pretty ass and marched to the nearest club. Which happened to be the... Hustlers club? Why did that sound familiar? 
Upon entering, you outright demanded to speak with the person in charge, and when you saw him, he demanded that he offer you a job. Lucky for you, the owner happened to be there that day. He observed the little moment you had when you stormed in..well, he observed the way your tits bounced in your low-cut tee and immediately pulled you into his office.
He had the thought that you would make him a lot of money if you worked for him, and he’s sure his business partner would agree if she saw you. He just had to make sure.
A figure appeared in the corner, striking up from the edge of his desk and making a slight sniffling noise. A girl, a beautiful one with distinct Asian features. Her leather skirt was short, only barely covering past 2 inches of her thigh. Her tits were pushed up to a necklace in a black corset-like top. An ornamental gold necklace.. with the letter M.
Wait. Is that-
That’s where it dawned on you why the name of this club sounded so familiar. On a random Tuesday afternoon, you find yourself standing in front of a celebrity. You were standing in front of Mikasa Ackerman. The Mikasa Ackerman. As in, owner of Mirror Palais, the highest-paid model in Japan, co-owner of one of the best clubs in New York, Mikasa Ackerman. Oh shit.
You remember seeing her on an Instagram reel in front of this very club, along with the other owner. The other owner, his name was.. what was it again? He swivels you around to face him, almost as if he hears your thoughts,
“Eren Yeager, sweetheart.”
A soft handshake accompanied by a gentle tone. He was quick to introduce you to the beautiful eyes that stayed fixed on your face since you walked into the dimly lit room. Eren guides you towards the brown leather couch where his friend is sitting,
“And, this is the lovely Mikasa. I’m sure you sure you know who she is.”
Feeling intimidated by her intense gaze, you nodded quickly and stumbled a bit when introducing yourself. Her following words didn’t calm your nerves anyhow,
“A real pleasure meeting you, beautiful.”
Eren could tell that Mikasa already liked you; the girl was practically fucking you with her eyes. But he wasn’t here for that; he cleared his throat to draw attention to him in the room. He had a goal in mind: to get you signed up. Eren wanted you dancing in his club today.
He sits you down and swiftly gets into business mode.
‘What kind of position are you looking for?’
‘What’s the minimum salary you want to earn here?’
He tries to get a sense of what you’re looking for before proposing to work as a stripper. Although he wants you to, he can compromise. Server position and the minimum salary you asked for was $65,000.
“And I’m not leaving til I get that or something better.”
Well, you wanted better, right? Eren explains to you that his club didn’t have any more waitress positions and Mikasa...
Well, that day, you found out that she was really good with words. She did a great job at convincing you that you’d make double the amount you asked for moving your perfect body on the pole. I mean...
“Look at that body of yours. You’d be pretty famous here, sweetheart.”
And shit, she was right. You really couldn’t blame the girls who never wanted to leave, simply too addicted to the drugs, to the fast life, especially to the money. The amount of money you made every night was simply insurmountable. And you found it funny because it wasn’t just the money. Really, it wasn’t.
The sensation that occurs when your lower body rotates on the pole. The art of dancing like this ignited such a passion from you. The attention, from the men and the women. One of the most popular clubs in the city had you as a crowd favorite. You knew it shouldn’t be something you liked; you never wanted to get too wrapped up in a life like this. But shit, it was sensational.
You didn’t let it slip, even though you shined on the stage. There are people who would take advantage of you even more if they knew you actually enjoyed what you do; you know this. When it was time to go, you left with no hesitation. You had to remind yourself of what you were here for, to provide and care for yourself until you find a better job.
And you stuck to that goal for a solid five months; nothing deterred you. Of course, that’s what you’re thinking. In reality, from the very first moment Eren had you on that pole, you found yourself coming back for one reason. Even if you weren’t subconsciously aware of it, him.
Connie, you heard the owner greet one day. He was definitely attractive. There was something about him, something about how he threw money at you and only you. Your body shivered without fail due to the gray eyes that watched your every move. The way he man spreads and tilts his head back when taking a hit, revealing neck tattoos that you know cover his stomach under that black Nike Tech hoodie. He was so fucking fine.
Only a few men can pull off a buzz cut. How does he do it so effortlessly? Maybe it was the color? How would he change it like it was nothing every two weeks?
You noticed he had a thin mustache, and when you got closer to his face.. Fuck. Was that a diamond nose ring?
He was a drug dealer. You caught that three months ago. Around that point, he began asking for you to exclusively serve his section. Eren had no problem with that; after all, this was his friend. But Connie started getting.. greedy. He wanted more than that. He started getting bold. He wanted your body on that twirling solely for him.
“Hell no.”
Eren filled the quiet section. Your body was followed by both green and gray eyes as you moved on the stage, with Connie’s eyes being more intense and focused compared to the other. The thriving club was filled with both of them enjoying a glass of Richard Hennessy Cognac in the VIP area.
Connie never had a good relationship with mixing Henny and weed. He was aware of that. He has a tendency to indulge in sinful thoughts. He didn’t let that stop him from rolling the blunt anyway.
His mind would get drawn towards dangerous places, mainly when he saw you. The way your thong disappeared between your cheeks under your lacey two-piece made him ready to fuck you right there. To show those perverted and prickly eyes that stuck like glue onto you that they could never have you. That you were his. Or, you will be.
Connie hasn’t even fucked you yet. Hasn’t gone anywhere near the sticky wetness he knows you have in between your legs.
You two indulge in what you could only describe as subtle grinding in the back rooms. All the dancing that you’re supposed to be doing on the pole, you’re doing on his lap instead. It was against the rules; you especially knew this. That didn’t stop either of you. Well, more so Connie than you.
At first, his best friend was against it. The customers you brought in were earning him at least $100k a night. While his other show girls were beautiful, you radiated a different type of aura onto the stage. You were something different. It was genuinely insane how you could move, you didn’t even have prior training. You found that every night, you got better than the previous; it was a natural talent.
Connie, being Connie, offered Eren twice that amount for every night he gets to spend with you alone. That was every night you were on the clock, besides, he had no problem making that back by the next day. When it came to his girl, there was never a problem for him.
And Connie never regretted the amount he spent on you. Being alone with you was something he had grown to crave incessantly. To him? It was worth it. He’d get so excited to just walk into the back room and find you waiting for him. All pretty, just tempting him to ruin you. Then, when you start performing in front of him, your body moves in a way that would hypnotize the stoic man.
And it wasn’t just your body to Connie. There was a certain allure to you. He was observant of the way you moved, spoke, and behaved. He understood that someone like you doesn’t come by every day. He just had to have you, own you. Your body, your fucking soul, everything you possessed, he wanted it for himself. He didn’t care if it sounded selfish; he’s okay with being that when it comes to you.
It’s reasonable to assume that he would have the final say on what you wear for him since he was the only person you would dance for, right? That was the route he took to get your number. That’s the reason you got a text from him while you were getting ready to shower for your night shift.
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One of his friends- Was he talking about Mikasa?
You could have given it more thought, but your shift was only an hour away, and Connie was on his way. Using a small gray towel, you drape it onto the fat of your wet boobs. Your hands lather your Shea Butter oil on the top of your left thigh quickly, but you stop when your doorbell rings.
“Coming!”
You yelp, quickly slip on your slippers, and move toward the door. The man had always taken you home, and on the other side of the coin, he always took you to work. You didn’t bother asking how he knew your address the first time, afraid that it would spark an answer you’re not ready to hear. Occasionally, if you were too intoxicated to carry yourself to your apartment, he would act as your knight in shining armor and hold you in bridal fashion to your door without saying a word.
It should have been simple enough: he goes in and gets out. And it would have been that simple if he hadn’t seen your pink lacy thong loosely hanging off your door knob. He was simply a man, one who desired to feel every part of you. The tip of that thong was hanging out of his pockets when Connie left your apartment that night.
Swinging your door open makes you almost breathless. Connie was a tall person. Everything about him just screamed: big. He was easily over 6 feet 2 inches tall, and he came to your door carrying a medium-sized shopping bag. You step back, observing as he comes in right after taking his slides off by your door.
“You’re here early, Con. I’m not ready yet.” You whisper, still a little perplexed he’s already here. Despite the amount of money you know he has, you rarely ever see him in anything other than a white tee and black sweats. Today was no different. Minor differences in each pair made it clear that they were different every time. You suppose it had something to do with his dangerous line of work.
He hands you the cream-colored bag, and his eyes never leave your lips all the while. You suddenly became very conscious that you were breathing the same air as Connie, who appeared right in front of you. He leans in, the ghost of his lips felt against your collarbone,
“You smell good,” His tatted hands sneakily climbed their way onto your wide hips. Before muttering a curse under his breath, he squeezes once. For the first time since meeting you, Connie isn’t being truthful. He didn’t come to your apartment to take you to your job. Tonight, he had different intentions.
He came tonight to put a full stop to the cat-and-mouse game that you guys have been playing for the past five months. Two fully packed blunts and three shots of Don Julio convinced him that his attraction towards you was not going away.
He should’ve realized it when he started making a habit of watching over you outside of the strip club. She needs someone to protect her, he thinks. You don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You have no idea, don’t you? Your beauty could easily lead to someone from the club becoming obsessed and following you. Anyone who wasn’t him.
He also should’ve realized it when he started beating his dick into overstimulation to your pictures on Instagram. And after your shift. Of course, before your shift. Eren witnessed him having to excuse himself during your shift because his dick was painfully throbbing against his boxers.
Connie really liked you. And somewhere in that twisted mind of his, he believed that you two were truly meant for each other. He should’ve never waited this long, “Put this on, ma.”
He pushes the bag towards your chest and moves your hips in the direction of your room. Your thighs twitch as you hum and make a little run to the end of your hall. He follows after you slowly, eyes shifting to the way your ass peaks out from under the towel.
This scene feels oddly familiar. A predator stalking its prey, just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You didn’t know what Connie came here to do; in your mind, you were just getting ready for work. He almost felt sorry for you, almost felt sorry for how he was going to ruin you, almost.
He made sure to take his time approaching your door so that you could be ready and prepared for him when he arrived. And you didn’t disappoint. In front of your vanity makeup mirror, you were sat on the cushion chair. Applying what looked like oil from a flower bottle onto your neck.
You look better in the dress than he expected. Your fat tits sitting so perfectly, and the lace meshing with your skin. You pretended to ignore him behind your seat, starting to feel the weight of his presence around you. This was probably the thinnest item you had ever owned, yet his hands pressing on your shoulders made your skin feel like it was on hot volcanic soil.
You catch his eye in the mirror, and despite your flustered state, he doesn’t grant you the satisfaction of looking away. Not even while his hands lower down to your rib cage, right under your plush boobs. Especially not even while his giant palms wrap around the fabric covering your nipple in a tight grip.
You gasp, a moan bottling in your throat, “C-Con!”
It could have been the way you uttered his name or the way your head pressed against his chest. Regardless, Connie lost control and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, beginning to sprinkle small, wet kisses. He grips harder, and you... you get louder.
“You drive me fucking insane,” Your flesh is now exposed to his hands as they slip into the dress. “Skin so soft,” He kneads his hands into your chest, squeezing as if he’s hoping milk will pour out of them. He groans, “God, you’re so perfect mama.” The thought of that makes a shiver run down his body.
Poor Mikasa, she spent all night working on that dress once she heard it was for you. Connie didn’t even let it last for a good ten minutes before you heard a faint rip sound in the midst of your whimpers.
Your brain is struggling to keep up with the speed of everything happening. You attempt to tilt your head back, but he shuts it down right away. “Eyes on the mirror.” He moves one hand to your throat, keeping you still. You feel your body shake under his hold, twitching slightly from his small attack. You didn’t have the courage to look away, not even as far as you could.
“I’ve been so patient.” Squeezing your left nipple, he drops his fingers down the ripped material until they reach the top of your pussy lips. “Cumming to the thought of your pretty face like a fucking teenager,” His words bring a mewl to your lips. Your body starts sweating, nervous at the way his fingers are just rubbing circles around your skin.
Would he pull away if your hips jerked against his hand? You hoped against all odds that he wouldn’t. You’ve never allowed yourself to feel this desperate for anyone, but being around Connie left you like this. You were at a loss for what to do. Your thoughts were racing to find something, anything, that would bring him closer to you.
It’s unclear what motivated him to answer your prayers. But in the next moment, he pushed his middle finger into the center of where your slick was overflowing onto the cushion. He creates slight tap sounds with the puddle between your fat lips, playing with you.
Your eyes close for just a second and burst wide open when you feel a sudden intrusion in your sticky hole. “A-Ah!” A sob leaves your lips, your eyes falling back to your face in the mirror when you register his next words,
“Eyes on the mirror, mama. I haven’t done anything to you yet,” As Connie slowly moves his fingers into and out of your dripping core, his eyes struggle to keep track of your face in the mirror or the stain you’re beginning to make on his digits.
He settles with the stain you’re creating. He’s massaging your walls in a way that you can’t help but cover them in a creamy white. It’s impossible not to moan with shaky breaths, whispering his name. He figures the wait was worth it. His dreams couldn’t have prepared him for the real thing. It was more noisy, was more sticky, and it was.. real.
What do you taste like?
Your hips shake as he suddenly removes his fingers from you. You whimper, annoyed by the absence of the touch of fingers on your wet walls, but you stop yourself when you see his movements in the mirror. His mouth wraps around his middle and ring finger, sucking your juices to the fullest. Your breathing stops when he moans, “You taste so fucking good.”
Connie silently pulls you up from your seat and presses you against the nearest wall, causing the ripped dress to fall to the floor. Instantly, your back arched into the prominent bulge that was pressing on your bare ass. Your thoughts wander back to your last session with Connie in the backroom. All that desperate grinding.
“You were squeezing so tight around my fingers,” He pushes his sweat down to remove his throbbing hard dick with a little effort. “Y’gonna squeeze my dick like that next?”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
You jump every time the base of his cock slaps down on your ass. Both of his hands grip your sides, his eyes rolling back as he slides his dick back and forth in between your leaking pussy lips.
“Oh f-fuck! Connie,”
Your voice cracks when you call out for him, and he smiles. He cannot deny that this is the perfect thing; it was always meant to be like this. He spreads your cheeks as wide as he can, lining his tip up to your hole that’s clenching around nothing.
“Yeah, b-baby?” Fuck, you were so wet. “Want me to fuck you? Want- Oh fuck. Want Connie to make you scream?”
Your lips tremble, and you try to slide his dick inside you by pushing your hips back. He lets you, too weak himself, to stop you from taking what you wanted. All you can think right now is Connie, Connie, fucking Connie.
“Shittt. Want y-y’to to make me cum! P-please!”
Pushing him even further inside without his help proves to him that you truly want him to make you scream. You’re barely making it halfway with his thick and long build. Connie is incredibly proud of you right now, taking his dick like a desperate bitch and moaning to fuck the rest of his inches in.
He pulls a little of himself out of you, only to flush his hips abruptly against yours with one single push. Groaning at the same time you gasp out, he whispers in your ear, “Scream for daddy, mama.”
You were so full. His cock tip was touching places that you’ve never been to on your own before, causing your mind to go haywire. His pressure against your cervix was so intense it would have been painful if you weren’t so wet. You oblige almost embarrassingly quickly the moment you feel his dick drag at a steady pace inside of you.
Connie regrets not having done this sooner, as the drugs he took earlier are still mixing in his system, alternating and speeding up his thoughts. His body was ablaze. You’re covering the entire length of his dick with your juices, causing him to become frantic and desperate to get more out of you. His thrusts match his crave. You were warm, and your cries were heaven to his ears, “Big! Y’re so b-big, daddy!”
You’re not complaining, far from it, as he tears your pussy to shreds. In fact, you’re taking him so well, and he praises you for it. Like he said, you were made for this moment, for him. You’re such a,
“Good girl. Fuck! My g-good girl takes me so well,”
He can hear your slick drip on the floor below you despite the smacking sound in your room. You’re so needy for him, as he is for you. The walls echoed with your wailing sounds as you fucked him back, making Connie shudder.
He’s gonna cum. He can feel his balls churning as they slap repeatedly against your twitching clit. Fuck. He’s gonna cum so deep inside you he prays it reaches your womb. Although it’s his first time exploring the depths of your perfect cunt, he recognizes that you’re also going to cum.
He can tell by the way your legs are shaking rapidly, by the way, your moans get higher in pitch, by the way, you’re whispering his name out like a prayer. And he’s determined to make you cum before him. Do you squirt? Do you cream? He thinks he’ll die and go to heaven if it’s both. Your next plea erupts another groan to tumble out his mouth,
“M’gonna- M’gonna cum! O-oh fuck- M’gonna cum so h-hard.”
Holding your arms behind your back with his tatted hand, he moves his hips inside you at a faster pace than ever before. “Shit. Me t-too, mama.” He angles his waist to keep pressing into that spongy spot that makes you tremble. “Just like that. Cum, baby. C-cum all over this fat dick.”
Small tears start to fall down your brown cheeks, and your back arches sharply on Connie, causing your stomach to clench at once. The man above you receives both your cream and squirt splashing from your sweet core, and you weep. Your muffled moans fill the air as he cranes your neck towards him for a nasty, drooling kiss.
As he gets closer to his orgasm, his rapid thrusts become sloppy and crazed, and his heart beats twice as fast as he sees the beauty fucked out underneath him. The more Connie moved inside of you, the more he swayed. Your essence was covering his lower half so much that he couldn’t wait another minute before dumping his kids against your cervix, a shaky moan accompanying his release.
His thrusts slow down, causing tiny drops to spill onto the floor, but his lips never leave yours, and he has to remind himself to let you breathe when you start to whine against his mouth. He lets you go and instead presses tiny kisses against your panting mouth.
Both of you, Connie in particular, were on cloud nine. Your clenching onto him brings Connie’s mind back to Earth, but he is not satisfied. He wanted to go again. He needed it, so it was only natural he started moving at a steadfast pace inside you again.
“Again. Let’s go a-again, mama. Shitt. Your pussy is so-”
Before that night, you’ve never experienced pleasure on this level. Connie took you, on every corner of the house. Both of you left unaware of Eren’s multiple missed calls as he fucked his cum into you like a dog in heat. It’s safe to say that you didn’t show up for work that night or the night after. Connie made sure you never danced at a strip club again.
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@hatake05 @thickbihhwitdagapp 🫶🏾
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would you ever consider writing for jacob elordi? b/c now i'm craving him with a lawyer gf too😭😭 like he would sooo be with someone smart. those airport pics? buying books for her. the world? shocked he's not with a model.
Out of my league || Jacob Elordi x reader
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A/n: love love love!!! And yes i plan on making more jacob fics :) i felt like i needed to post smth so here 😭
Warnings: none
Wc:
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For the longest time, Jacob has always stayed private about his relationships. Whenever he would be asked in interviews, he would acknowledge he was in a relationship but never went into detail into who it was.
Fans have since then speculated that he was dating a model, or even another actress. Especially after an interview he had where he was asked if he was seeing anyone and he responded with “Yeah, I am. But I think she’s out my league to be honest,” with that boyish grin.
The two of you met while you were at a cafe in Boston, studying for an upcoming test when he left his wallet at the counter. You obviously knew who he was, I mean, who didn’t?
Jacob found you crazy attractive. Not just because of your looks but because you were smart. It wasn’t everyday he would bump into a Harvard student studying law.
After about two years of dating, the two of you decided that it wouldn’t matter if fans found out the two of you were dating. No one’s opinion would change anything.
jacobelordiupdates_
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Liked by 3,047,183 people
Jacob spotted at Sydney airport buying books 👀 wonder where he’s off to?
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user1: 😍😍
user2: he’d be my airport crush omds
user3: he’s so hot I cant.
user4: the fit.
user5: damn his gf is so lucky
y/n_y/l/n: he’s actually coming to see me 🙃
↘️ user6: who even are u 😭
~
And so when he came to Boston to visit you—the day before valentines—he decided to finally post you on his instagram. Undoubtedly, Jacob’s fans went into a frenzy. Going crazy at the fact that they were wrong and that he was not dating model, or an actress like they suspected, but a Harvard law student.
jacobelordi
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Liked by y/n_y/l/n, sydneysweeney, archmadekwe, and 9,397,028 others
What the monkey on the wall says 🐒❤️
tagged: y/n_y/l/n
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y/n_y/l/n: mwah!
↘️ jacobelordi: 😚😚
user1: OMG OMG OMG
user2: everyone wake up, Jacob posted about his gf
user3: so she isn’t a model…… WE WERE SO WRONG LMAO
user4: did anyone notice her comment on jacobelordiupdates_ post yesterday 😭😭
user5: oh to be her 😩
user6: she’s a Harvard law student? omfg I’m curious as to how they even met
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: ☕️🔑
↘️ user7: IS THIS A HINT LOL
~
y/n_y/l/n
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Liked by jacobelordi and 10,037 others
nope not a model, just your average Harvard law student!!
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jacobelordi: so much better than a model babe 🥱
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: hehehehehe 🥰
user1: JACOB IN THE THIRD PIC
user2: isn’t that the book he bought at the airport yesterday 😭
↘️ user3: YES!
↘️ user4: that was what I was thinking too 🤔
↘️ user5: that’s so cute aweee
user6: the caption. love her for that lmao
user7: she’s so luckyyy
user8: the fact that everyone for sure thought Jacob was dating a model 😬
↘️ jacobelordi: they thought wrong. law students do it better
↘️ y/n_y/l/n: lol sorry to burst ur bubble x
↘️ user8: OMG OMG U BOTH ANSWERED
user9: finally, a celebrity not dating some other celebrity or model 😂
user10: how can a Harvard student be out of Jacob Elordi’s league?!
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maxtermind · 2 months
Text
if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow
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★ : summary :: when they lose a race ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: hurt/comfort; angst; fluff ★ : word count :: 2.7k
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Max Verstappen
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Max had never felt so distant from you. He had the win in his bag, he started good and was going to give it his all but was forced to retire due to a sudden engine failure while leading the race.
He was rightfully disheartened. The post-race meeting only added to his frustration as blame was thrown around instead of taking responsibility. It only got worse when he walked out of it with a, ‘This is such a waste of time.’
As he ranted in the car, his anger palpable, you listened silently, and caressed his hand when, had gotten a call from his dad.
“Just let it ring,” you whispered from the passenger seat. Your attempt was futile though before he picked up the call and put it on bluetooth in his ear.
You waited until you reached home before discreetly ending the call, giving Max a moment to compose himself. He didn’t let you hear anything but as he sat in his seat, rubbing his face to get rid of his emotions, you knew the conversation had affected him deeply.
Opening his car door, you pulled him out using his hand before getting home before you both took a shower in silence, allowing Max the space to process. It wasn't until you were tucked under the covers, clean and warm, that he finally spoke.
"I just hate feeling like I let everyone down," Max confessed, his voice heavy with guilt.
"You didn't let anyone down, Max,” you reassured him, kissing the top of his hand. “You gave it your all out there.”
"I still feel like I'm constantly disappointing everyone," Max muttered, his voice thick with frustration.
"You're not a disappointment, Max. You're a phenomenal driver, and sometimes things just don't go our way.”
"It's hard to believe that sometimes," Max admitted, his gaze distant and you realized what exactly he was thinking about right now.
"Your dad's words don't define you, Max. You're so much more than that," you said firmly, refusing to let him internalize the negativity.
"It's just… I've always looked up to him, you know? His opinion matters," Max confessed, his tone tinged with sadness.
"But you're your own person, Max. And you're incredible in your own right," you reminded him, squeezing his hand gently.
"I know, but… it still hurts," Max admitted, his shoulders slumping with the weight of it all.
"I wish I could shield you from all of this," you murmured, feeling a pang of helplessness. Your boyfriend nodded softly, looking so so so small that it was physically hurting you to even keep looking at him, his eyes reflecting the turmoil within.
"Hey, look at me," you said, gently tilting his chin up to meet your gaze. "You are loved, Max. Don't ever forget that." "Thanks, Y/N. I needed to hear that," Max replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Anytime, Max. I'm here for you, through the highs and the lows," you said earnestly, offering him a comforting embrace.
He looked conflicted for a second and you were sure whatever he was about to say was going to officially break your heart into two. Max's voice was barely above a whisper when he admitted it, his expression pained,"It's just… seeing them celebrate my failure, it stings."
"I know it's tough seeing those celebrations, Max, but remember, those people celebrating are just haters who can't accept that someone is doing better than them," you said firmly, trying to inject some perspective into the situation. "Their joy comes from a place of envy, not genuine happiness. Don't let their negativity dampen your spirit."
"I hope you're right," Max said, his voice tinged with doubt. "Thanks for always being there, babe. I don't know what I'd do without you," Max said sincerely, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"You'll never have to find out, Max. I'll always be by your side.”
Lewis Hamilton
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Your heart dropped the moment you saw the tire puncture Lewis’ car in the second last lap of the race. His frustration and curses echoed through the headphones, reaching you with a painful clarity.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! This is all so shit!” Lewis’s distorted voice cried through the radio. “I was so fucking close!”
As much as it hurt you to listen to this, you decided to keep your emotions at bay so you could handle your boyfriend’s better. Silently making your way through the people in the paddock to the back.
The chaos and disappointment from everyone forcing your chest to hurt a little. The only thought in your mind was how Lewis was probably feeling much much worse than you right now.
You heard his car before you saw him, and when you did, the defeat etched on his face made you want to cry. Lewis seemed drained and defeated, devoid of the usual fire.
“Baby?” You called, catching his attention. He nodded at someone before making his way towards you. Pulling you into a less crowded area before wrapping his arms around your shoulder.
"I don’t think I can face the interviews and media circus after this," he confessed, his breath warm against your neck.
"Should I go get the getaway car ready?" You joked, delighted to hear a small huff from his mouth.
“Can’t really leave before that though,” Lewis replied. “I’m beat, just wish it wasn’t this close to winning.”
Realizing he needed encouragement, you took a deep breath and spoke softly.
"Lewis, it's incredibly tough luck to have a tire blowout so close to the finish line, especially when you were leading so strongly," you said, feeling his grip tighten around you. "But these moments, they test your resilience and determination."
He nodded, his shoulders relaxing a fraction as you continued to rub his back.
"I know it's hard, Lewis, but remember, every setback is just a setup for a comeback," you whispered soothingly.
"I just had my heart set on this win," he murmured, disappointment evident in his voice.
"I know, love, but sometimes things don't go as planned," you replied, offering a comforting squeeze.
"It's like the universe has it out for me today," Lewis said with a bitter chuckle.
"Maybe it's just testing how badly you want it," you suggested optimistically. "Well, it's certainly made its point," he said, a hint of bitterness lingering.
You were about to speak again when he interrupted.
"I just wish it had been enough."
"It will be next time," you said confidently, refusing to let him dwell on the defeat.
"I hope you're right," Lewis said, a hint of determination creeping back into his voice. "Thanks for always believing in me.”
"Always, Lewis. That's what lovers are for," you said, smiling warmly at him, admiring his eyes that had some of their shine back intact.
Carlos Sainz
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The relief you felt when Carlos walked out of the safety car before making his way towards you was indescribable. From the moment his car collided with another due to a racing incident until now, with his arms around your shoulders, you hadn't taken a single calm breath.
It was probably less brutal than what was shown on the screen, given that it happened so fast that none of the drivers had even processed what was happening. Still the incident had left you with a knot of dread in your stomach.
Carlos was okay, you repeated to yourself, but it didn't quell the pounding of your heart or the trembling of your hands. You were trying to stay composed but it was really hard while your boyfriend talked to someone from the team, frustrated that he had to retire so soon.
"Hey, at least you're still in one piece," you pointed out, trying to inject a bit of humor into the situation but it sounded dry and that was when Carlos took a good look at you, his gaze sharpening as he realized how shaken you were. "Babe, are you alright?" Carlos asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to touch your trembling hand.
"I'm fine, just a bit shaken," you admitted, forcing a shaky smile as you tried really hard to stay in the present and not let your brain run rampant.
"I'm so sorry you had to see that," Carlos said, his eyes filled with regret as he pulled you into a comforting embrace. Knowing that he would’ve been the same if it was the other way around.
"I promise I'll be more careful out there," Carlos vowed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
"I'm just glad you're okay," you whispered, burying your face in his chest as you finally allowed yourself to let go of the tension you had been holding.
"It's not your fault, Carlos. These things happen in racing-”
"I know, but I hate putting you through this," Carlos said, his voice filled with remorse. "Let's forget about the race for now, okay? We'll focus on us."
"That sounds perfect," you agreed, feeling a sense of peace wash over you as you leaned into his warmth, longing to put the ordeal behind you.
"I love you so much," Carlos said earnestly, his eyes filled with love as he looked at you. Hands holding you tight against him, grounding you so you could understand that he was real and wasn’t going anywhere.
"Let's get out of here and grab some dinner, just the two of us," Carlos proposed, eager to shift your focus away from the day's events as he led you towards the exit. Mentally making a list of things he would tell you to take your mind off of what happened today.
Charles Leclerc
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You found yourself seething almost as much as Charles after yet another podium slipped away due to a messed up pit stop. It lasted more than a fucking forever at such a pivotal moment in the race.
It really made you wonder whether his team was even working with him or deliberately against him to make sure that neither of them could score more points. He had opted to stay silent, shutting out the media and team meetings, and unfortunately, that meant withdrawing from you too.
“Charles?” You asked after giving him ample time to process the race in the sitting room all alone like he requested.
He simply hummed before taking a sip of whatever his glass held before you carefully took it from his hand and put it on the table. Crawling into his lap to make sure he knew he could lean on you.
"This isn't the solution," you whispered, pointing to yourself. "Talk to me. Mid-life crises are lighter when shared."
“I don’t think I have the brain to make a correct decision ever.”
"Hey, don't say that," you said firmly, looking into his eyes with a mixture of concern and determination. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there, Charles. One pit stop mishap doesn't change that," you assured, brushing a stray hair from his face.
"But it keeps happening, Y/N," Charles replied, his voice heavy with frustration. "I know, love, and it's unfair. But you can't let it define you," you said, cupping his cheek in your hand.
"I understand how frustrating it is, Charles," you said, your voice soft but determined. "But dwelling on what went wrong won't change anything."
"What do you suggest, then?" Charles asked, a hint of desperation in his tone. "Let's analyze what happened today. Break it down step by step," you suggested, gently guiding him to a more constructive approach. "Let's start with the pit stop. What went wrong there?" you prompted, encouraging him to identify the specific issues.
"It was a miscommunication between the crew members," Charles recalled, his brow furrowing with concentration.
"Okay, so how can we prevent that from happening in the future?"
"Maybe we need to implement clearer communication protocols," Charles suggested, a spark of hope flickering in his eyes.
"That sounds like a solid plan. Let's discuss it with your team tomorrow," you said, nodding in agreement.
"But what if they don't listen to me?" Charles wondered, his confidence wavering.
"You're their driver, Charles. Your input is invaluable. They'll listen," you assured him, offering a reassuring smile.
"I feel a bit better now," Charles admitted, a hint of relief in his tone. “I was just so lost, I should've talked to you a bit sooner.” Your boyfriend whispered before leaning down and dropping a soft lingering kiss on your lips, conveying what words couldn't. "I'm lucky to have you, Y/N."
"And I'm lucky to have you, Charles. We make a great team," you replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
Lando Norris
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The usual smile was off of Lando’s face. He faced an unavoidable collision with another car in the chaotic start of the race, resulting in damage to his car and an early retirement. Though he tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, the tension in his jaw and the sharpness in his gaze betrayed his true emotions.
Lando typically a laid back playful guy who was always joking around, had retreated into himself on this dismal day, with even the reporters giving him a wide berth. No one has seen him this dejected before and it was killing you.
However, as soon as the race concluded, it was clear why he was keeping up appearances. Lando pecked your cheek and told you to stay put before following the rookie who had collided with his car.
Alarm bells rang in your head and you were right behind him, stopping him using his shoulder.
“Babe, maybe it's best to cool down before confronting him.” You saw him sigh and open his mouth to retort but you were quicker. “Walk with me.”
You understood him obviously, knowing that the incident was beyond his control and shattered his hopes for a strong finish.
"I can't just let it slide, Y/N," Lando said, his voice tight with frustration as he glanced back towards the rookie's garage.
“I understand, Lando, but lashing out won't change anything," you said gently, placing a comforting hand on his arm, relieved when he finally started walking away.
"I just feel so helpless," Lando admitted, his shoulders slumping with defeat.
"You're not helpless, Lando. You're just taking a moment to process everything," you reassured him, placing a gentle kiss against his lips.
"It's just hard to stay positive when everything feels like it's falling apart," Lando confessed, his usual optimism dimmed by disappointment. "I just hate feeling like I'm at the mercy of circumstances.”
"I know, love. But remember, you're not alone in this. We'll figure it out together," you assured him, intertwining your fingers with his. “You, me and the team. He’s going to face penalties anyway.”
"I just wish I could turn back time and avoid that collision," He sighed, letting you drag him to a park nearby for a walk.
"I understand, love. But dwelling on what could have been won't change the present. Let's focus on what we can do now," you suggested, leading him away from the chaos of the race track.
"But what if this affects my standings in the championship?" He wondered aloud, his brow furrowing with worry, a pout evident on his face.
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, babe. Right now, let's focus on taking care of you," you said, your voice filled with determination. "Let's just take this walk and clear our heads, okay? If you still want to talk to him later, I’ll support you."
He was extremely grateful that you pulled him away at the time because not even an hour later, the rookie approached Lando and apologized for his mistake.
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lowkeyremi · 6 months
Text
jjk men and aftercare ft. Gojo, Choso, Nanami, Toji, and Geto.
a/n: I saw something like this awhile ago and forgot to write abt it but here I am now babyyyy (there is already a part 2 in progress bc i wanna do 10 characters lmaoo) also not proofread bc im tired :P
cw: really suggestive, established relationships, how they are after sex basically :)
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Gojo Satoru
When you two first started hitting third base Gojo was all about himself and about how he felt. When you had cleaned yourself up and prepared for bed that night Satoru finally realized something was wrong.
"What's wrong, babe? I thought you liked it??" He asks, worried about his performance in bed. Your silence prompts him to try and figure out what he had done wrong, and honestly he couldn't even think of anything.
"Pleaseeee tell me. I won't know if you don't say anything." Those invasive thoughts that tell you, "you don't matter to him." start to attack your brain once again. He's way out of your league you start to think.
"Aftercare. You didn't even offer to help me clean up, Satoru." Saying it out loud makes you sound kind of petty in your opinion but it does matter.
"OH. Shit baby I'm so so so so sorry!!!!! I- It's just-" He cuts himself off and tries to reword his sentence, "Well, back then I.. I was sleeping around so my pleasure was the only thing that mattered to me. It's different.. you know? Dating. I'm still working out everything. I won't forget next time I promise."
He'd been telling the truth because from then on he always went all out with aftercare. He would run you a bath with your favorite salts and oils, he'd make you your favorite snacks, he'd even cuddle you afterwards until you fell asleep. (rich boyfriend privileges)
Choso Kamo
He'd been waiting so long to finally sleep with you for the first time so he had done all his research prior to the day. He was looking at your dilated pupils, messy hair, and the cum that sat on your stomach.
"Okay so, according to the article I read, I should run you a hot bath, yeah?" He asks nervously.
A small smile braces your lips. In all honesty you probably should have expected this much from Choso. He wants to make sure everything is perfect.
"You looked up aftercare???" You sit up on the bed and a back cramp decides to hit right then and there. As soon as he hears your groan he sprints the the kitchen, only to return with a heat pad.
"Heat pad for cramps?" He's truly nervous, and eager to please you, the love of his life.
"Thank you, Cho. I'll take you up on that bath."
"Of course, I'll get in with you if that's okay." The smile on your face is enough of an answer.
Nanami Kento
YOU ARE WINNING!!!!
Massages, baths, homemade snacks, you name and he'll do it for you. In his mind it's the least he can do for you, because you treat him so well and give him that pretty pussy he loves so much.
"Right here?" He's currently working those skilled fingers into your tight muscles after bending you every which way.
"Ohhh... yes right there, baby. Hurts so muchhhh." You whine and moan at the same time. At this point you two have already bathed and he's made sure to moisturize your body leaving you clean and refreshed.
He seemed to notice the way you limped and asked if you need anything. The sex was good really, but you didn't want to tell him that folding you in half wasn't the best idea. Oh, but he's persistent would not leave you alone until you told him what was wrong.
Once you told him he had immediately sat you down, picked up your favorite lotion and started to work out the kinks in your body.
"I'm so sorry, again." He mumbles quietly.
"Stop apologizing, Kento. These things happen. At least I know to stretch before hand next time." His face softens at your giggles and he presses a small kiss to your thigh.
"Oh do not get me started." A smile creeps up his face, while blush slowly spreads across yours.
Toji Fushiguro
BOOOOOO no aftercare. well maybe not much at least.
Has not properly cared for a woman since his late wife but he realizes if he wants you to stay he'll have to fix that.
At first he would throw a wet rag at you and give a simple, "here clean up." When he got out the shower he was genuinely confused why you were no longer at his apartment.
As soon as you picked up he could tell you were pissed, "What do you want, Fushiguro."
He's a little shocked, did not expect that from you, "I'm your boyfriend so it's Toji and not Fushiguro. The hell is your problem??"
The silence is so loud. For a second he thought you'd hung up on him. "Hello??"
"I'm giving you some time to think about that dumbass question and figure out why I'm mad at you." He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes too. He's lucky you can't see it.
"Ugh, I don't have time to play the damn guessing game. You're always mad about the little things.. what is it?" He's running through anything he could have possibly done wrong recently.
"Toji, you threw a fucking wet washcloth at me and told me to clean myself up. I'm your girlfriend, not one of your one night stands!" There it is, and the bad part is he doesn't even see what's wrong with that. (at first)
"I don't even give them something to clean up with, I just leave. But damn if you want me to get all fancy and shit I'll try." He scratches his head and begins to wonder why women are so hard to please.
Let me tell you he's no Nanami, but it's getting better. Still falls asleep afterward most times tho :/
Geto Suguru
You do it yourself for the most part, and here's why.
He's over here washing you up in the tub and he can't stop staring at your soapy titties and it just leads to more sex.
It's never just aftercare with him. He's always chasing more. Like that time you asked him to massage your legs after you two had finished fucking in the tub.
"Yeah shit why not? Lotion or oil??" He asks looking through your products.
"Uhhh lotion's fine." You'd grabbed your phone to see if your mother left you a voicemail which she did. She talked about how you need to pick up the phone or at least text her your alive if you're not gonna pick up. You were NOT going to pick up earlier though. Suguru likes to tease and you learned that the hard way when he was eating you out while you were discussing group bonding dinner ideas with your boss over the phone.
Anyway, he made his way to the bed with your lotion and all things went to hell. It was slow at first, nothing too sensual, then of course he had to slip a finger in your pussy and you sat there and stared.
"We are not doing this, we just got out of the bath." You were so serious, but so was he. (you were also aroused so)
"Another bath never hurt anybody, 'fraid of a little water baby??"
(such an annoying whore)
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cursingtoji · 10 months
Note
11 and 21 with gojo please please PLEEK
One Bed + Hate Sex
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⊱ ex!gojo x fem reader, smut, one face slap (on him), degradation but also praising ig?, possessive gojo, 2k words (this almost consumed me) ┊The Clichés ™
note: i got a litte crazy in the process of "why would i hate gojo" and ending up taking an extra prompt from the list for this so... ta dah ✨ ex boyfriend gojo enjoy
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“It's been a while” Satoru greets.
One year it’s a long time, seeing him makes your stomach hurt but you realize you don’t carry as much resentment as you used to.
After your break you asked to be sent on missions far from tokyo, you knew eventually you would see Gojo Satoru again, and there he was, in casual clothes standing by the exit of the train station you agreed to meet at.
You felt him before you turned around the corner, and he felt you too. His six eyes could see the flames of your cursed energy increasing and decreasing as you tried to control your emotions. When you showed up he smiled, eyes hidden behind the sunglasses.
“Indeed.”
The director of Kyoto explained Gojo was meeting you there cause he got a lead on a special grade cursed object and you would be his companion on the search that would start tomorrow morning. That shouldn’t be hard, right? 
“How've you been?” he asks politely.
“We don’t need to do that” you reply quickly as both of you made your way to the cabs.
“Why? Am I supposed to not care for your well-being anymore?” his question would seem innocent to anyone, but you have trained ears for Gojo Satoru, and you can tell when he’s being patronizing.
“Yes, just like I don’t care about yours” you enter the cab and give the driver the name of your hotel, Gojo walks around the cab and sits beside you. The close proximity of him in this confined space already makes you uneasy.
“Don’t be like that, I know that’s not true” he puts his arm behind you, his cologne invading your senses and you consider rolling down the windows, but nostalgia stops you, “No matter what you say, i can still read you like a book” he whispers moving some strands of hair out of your shoulder.
Gojo knows you’re too well-mannered to do or say anything to him in this cab, you don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of the driver even though he’s a stranger. Gojo always hated how much you cared about other people’s opinions — one of the things that you constantly fought about near the end of your relationship — yet he knew how to use that on his advantage.
The cab drops you off in front of your hotel and you leave Gojo to pay for it while making your way to the reception, giving your last name.
“I’m sorry, miss, I couldn’t find a reservation under your name” the girl at the reception says.
“Wha— didn’t you make a reservation?” you ask Gojo.
“I thought you were gonna make it” he shrugs and you have to restrain yourself from attacking him.
“Fine. Two rooms for tonight only” you turn to the receptionist again.
“Sorry ma’am, we’re all booked for tonight” she explains.
“Can you check again?” Gojo extends a membership card and she types something on her computer.
“Oh we have one master suit available for premium members” you roll your eyes.
“We'll take it” he says.
“Wait, just one?” you intervene.
“I'm afraid so, it’s the only room available for tonight.”
“So what’s gonna be, baby? Sleep with me or on the street?” he pushes his sunglasses down his nose bridge, wanting to see in detail your facial expressions as he teases.
“Don’t you dare call me that” you growl at him, “I shouldn’t have agreed to this mission” you mumble the last part looking around and considering your options.
“But it was not your decision to make, was it? You’re too much of a people pleaser to even question an order from those bags of bones you respect so much” he mocks bringing in a frequent fight topic.
“We'll have the room” you turn to the receptionist after realizing you didn’t have much to do anyways, right now you just look forward to locking yourself in the bathroom for at least one hour while you wash all the Gojo Satoru out of your system.
Gojo offered to carry your small one-night bag, but as expected you don’t let him take it, once you arrive at the room you can’t help but admiring how fancy it is. Just the kind of place Gojo used to get for the two of you.
“Good thing it’s a king size” you murmur looking at the huge bed, should be enough to sleep without touching him.
Gojo walks past you, pulling his sweatshirt over his head, the shirt underneath raising slightly but enough for you to take a peek at his back muscles and gulp.
“I'm going to shower” you announce, taking some clothes out of your bag and leaving your phone at the nightstand.
“Without me?” he blinks suggestively.
“Ugh” you slam the bathroom door in disgust.
Gojo laughs and lays at the bed getting comfortable, he reminisce the times when you were dating and he showed up at your hotel even if he was not part of your mission, he would get you a secret upgrade for a room with hot tub and sat there with you leaning on his chest while you talked about a future where you would be a teacher alongside him and not need to travel so much. Later he would assure the two of you would make it work through kisses and sweet whispers while fucking you slowly and passionately and take you out on a nice restaurant afterwards.
Gojo is pulled out of the memory lane by your phone’s message tone, he doesn't think twice before reaching to see what's your notification.
> did you arrive well? Xx
Suddenly he sees red. The contact name is unknown to him and he prides himself on knowing almost every sorcerer in Japan. So who the fuck is that?
Once the bathroom door opens, Gojo confronts you immediately.
“You moved on quite fast” you look up, noticing the phone in his hand and quickly trying to snatch it back before he disappears from the bed and reappears behind you.
“Don’t fucking test me, Satoru” you try again.
“Who’s he? Huh?”
“None of your business” you get closer and on your tiptoes to retrieve the phone, Satoru holds your wrist with more strength than necessary.
“Is he a curse-user? Kyoto faculty? Answer me” he pushes you until your back hits the wall, throwing your phone over his shoulder — not giving two shits if it breaks — and moves to be in between your legs, holding both your wrists above your head in one hand.
“None, get off of me”.
“Non— you’re dating a civilian?” he laughs, the psycho laughter gives you chills.
“You have no right to speculate about my own private life!” you tried to kick him, but he closed your legs between his own.
“That's why you broke up with me? To be with a boring fucking no-one?” that’s the angriest you ever seen Satoru, even when you fought he always kept his voice down, as if to tease you even more.
“I did break up and you didn’t even question it, did you? Didn’t even put up a fight!” you yell like you’ve been meaning for so long, after a big fight you yelled that you two should break up and his ‘yeah, maybe we should’ shocked you.
Satoru’s grip loses around your wrists, his big blue eyes look down at your anger filled ones seeing a hint of hurt in the features of the girl he fell madly in love with.
Fuck, he missed you so much.
You're panting at this point, both of you stay silent until your gaze falls to his lips, that's all the encouragement he needs to close the gap and kiss you, you gasp when the towel slides down to your feet, now physically and emotionally exposed to him. Gojo groans when he touches the bare skin of your waist and your arms fall on top of his shoulders. It’s incredible how quick you surrender to him, lips parting for him to taste his beloved one.
You can’t help the way your body reacts to him, not even when you attempt to rub yourself on his thigh and he stops you.
“‘S your boyfriend not taking care of you?” his tone drips mockery, a hand crawls up grabbing your breast harshly.
Before you can send him to hell his tongue is shoved back inside your mouth and you rub your thighs together already feeling yourself getting wetter.
“Fucking slut” he groans on your lips pinching your nipple and moving to cup your cunt, “Does he touch you like this? Like the whore you are? Or he treats you like a little delicate thing you pretend to be?”
Your palm acts fast to slap his cheek.
“Fuck” he moans, the burn on his face going stray to his dick as he ruts against your stomach.
Satoru slides the hand between your legs to spread your slick and press the heel of his palm on your clit, you whine, pressing your back against the wall.
“You’re not getting away from me, so don’t even try” your former boyfriend pushes his fingers without much resistance from your moist walls.
“T-Toru” you shut your eyes letting the nickname escape. This is all he dreamed of, having his name come out of your lips again, but he still couldn’t get over the fact you let someone else touch you, especially someone that did not understand you like he did. Someone that had no idea the type of job you had and how dangerous it was. Someone that would stand up during the mission assignments to volunteer for the most dangerous ones so you wouldn’t go.
“That’s right, baby, say my name” he curls his long fingers inside you, moving one arm out of his shoulder to guide your hand into his pants, where you quickly wrap around his length. You move his pants and underwear out of the way, the hot skin of his dick touches your stomach and you look down. And god, he has such a pretty cock it’s unfair.
“Wanna suck me, gorgeous?” he murmurs, watching the lust in your eyes, “Missed my cock in your mouth?” he hits the sweet spot inside you harder when you don't answer, “Say it” he grabs your jaw forcing you to stare at the dark ocean in his eyes.
“Y-Yes, I missed your cock” you confess, letting out all the times you pretended it was him pleasuring you instead of your fingers.
You squeeze his base when he fastens his fingers and your orgasm approaches, but it doesn't take long before he removes them and you whine.
“You’re all bark and no bite, all it takes is having your pussy played with and you get quiet” he bites your lobe, his harsh words make you wanna hide your face in embarrassment.
“Satoru, please” you beg and pull his pants all the way down trying to move to get on your knees.
“No, you’ll take what I give you” he grabs your arm and pushes you onto the bed, discarding his shirt before moving to position your knees on the mattress, “You’re lucky if I even let you cum tonight…” he strokes his cock with your remaining moisture on his hand before moving to bury himself in your walls, “... after everything you put me through” he confesses the last part in a hush.
“M-Me? Fuck you, Satoru” he fucks you roughly, not giving you time to argue back.
“Yeah, you” he punctuates with a particularly hard trust, “Can’t believe you were sleeping with someone all this time” his voice breaks but his pace doesn't.
You feel him in your cervix, but his tone pulls you out of your pleasure to explain yourself.
“I’m no— not” you whisper and he stops to lean over you.
“What was that?”
“I’m not… sleeping with him, he’s not— he’s no one” you confess slightly turning your head to look at him, his eyes squint as you feel his hot breathing against your neck and chest on your back.
“Good” he straightens up and pulls out. You turn around sitting on the bed and pulling him by the neck to kiss you again, Satoru complies, crawling with his lips attached to yours, until you're laying on the pillows wrapping your legs around his waist so he’s back inside you, “Missed this cunt so bad” he cups you again, feeling the way your lips stretch to his length while sucking on your nipples.
You arch your back “Hate you so… much— agh!”
“No you don’t, you never have” he bites your nipple and your nails sink on his back.
“This is pretty empty for an all booked hotel” you comment when you sit at the restaurant for breakfast the next morning while a cup filled to the brim with coffee, having slept only 4 hours since Satoru kept you up all night, denying your orgasm until you begged and apologized.
“Is it?” Gojo tilts his sunglasses looking around, finding only four other tables occupied while you stare at him suspiciously. He wonders how long it’ll take for you to find out that on the way there he booked every single room except one so you wouldn’t have a choice.
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see also: Gojo + Fake Dating # Toji + Forbidden Love
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