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#in which I over-analyse everything
fionaapplerocks · 1 month
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Fiona Apple's Hot Knife video is available in two versions one on YouTube and another on Vimeo (login required for some reason)
Lets compare a couple of frames: Vimeo on the left and YouTube on the right.
The Vimeo version is slightly sharper but that comes at a cost, if you zoom in, a lot of film grain is visible while on the YouTube version Fiona's skin looks completely smooth. Also in the monochrome shots there is a very subtle touch of sepia which is gone in the YouTube version.
It's really hard to pick a winner between these, Fiona looks prettier on the YouTube edit, but the Vimeo is a bit grittier, a bit more real.
I downloaded the 1080p file from both sites and the YouTube version is 33MB vs Vimeo at 148MB
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When discussing or analyzing Dazai, one thing I hope you will keep in mind when reading anything I write about him is that from my perspective, he is always, always both.
What do I mean by this? Well, I find there tends to be a general split among people who hold the opinion that "he's a manipulator and will always be manipulative" and "he's doing his best to be good and helpful and live up to Oda's last wishes for him", of which, neither is completely right - because he is both. But even among the people who hold to this dual-nature interpretation, I find that his individual actions and motivations still tend to be thought of in a dichotomous manner - is it manipulative, or genuine?
Again, I think it's always both.
Dazai has a very pragmatic view on a lot of things - he is always looking for the usefulness of things and people so that the situation turns out in his favour. He's incredibly adept at this, and his prediction and placement and careful reveals are all manipulation tactics to get his allies and enemies doing exactly what he needs them to. I don't think anyone can contest this since we see it over and over in the series.
But that's not all there is to it. He's not solely manipulative and he does, to some extent, sympathize with others - I think there are several instances of this in the series, but I want to stress that this has been apparent since Chapter 1!
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For context, Dazai is recalling what Atsushi said to him a few minutes earlier, but it's very interesting that it should be this specific part of the conversation. He could've flashed back to the part where Atsushi said he had nowhere to go; no money, no food - he is about to trick him into joining, after all, and this is the key piece he uses to basically force Atsushi into the Agency. But instead it's Atsushi's self-deprecation that catches his attention, and it really does, because even during the conversation, he turns to look at him after he says this with an odd expression.
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You could say that this makes Atsushi easier to manipulate, if that's your angle, but that can't be solely it, because in the later conversation with Hirotsu, we know Dazai was planning to bring Atsushi into the Agency and set him up as one half of the new Double Black the moment he met him. The panel shown there is the riverbank, set much earlier in the day than this scene. He was already planning to pair him with Akutagawa since he figured out he was the tiger, so what's with this reaction?
Well. Sometimes the simplest explanation is the best.
He manipulated Atsushi into joining with the intention of utilizing him in his future plans. He also helped him and gave him a place to belong, and importantly, he likes this kid! It's both.
I think much of it might be that his brain just kinda works way too fast - he's such a natural at crafting these elaborate plots and seeing how things connect and gathering useful people like resources that it's practically automatic - though this is not a great means when you're trying to be a kinder person. There's an omake, I believe, that has him saying "I like using my head for justice", i.e. using these underhanded means to act for the better. Not great, but those are the kind of gifts he has. He's way more suited to exploitation, but is choosing to use these tactics to save people now, which is quite reminiscent of what he tells Kyouka. Kyouka's talents lie in killing people - when what you're good at isn't who you want to be, what do you do? Well, I expect you use what you have, even if it's not ideal.
Now, about the current situation with Sigma - I think he definitely likes him, and is intrigued by him and his situation. We did get a little thought bubble where the guy amusedly compares him to Atsushi, and you can't tell me he doesn't care about Atsushi (listen to the onsen drama cd, or read 55 Minutes if you somehow don't believe me). But also, it's undeniable that Sigma is in a very vulnerable position of being homeless and having had no one be genuinely kind to him before. His trust is very easy to earn, and with the latest chapter, Dazai has now saved his life multiple times. There is, as always, a practical purpose he needs him for. And I have to be somewhat amused because Dazai is quite literally telling Sigma everything he ever wanted and needed to hear. It's a brilliant means of quickly endearing himself to Sigma - but I don't think that's all it is.
Look. The most honest moments we get in this series from Dazai are, interestingly for an expert manipulator, when people are at their most vulnerable. In spite of every pointlessly cruel act he inflicted on Akutagawa, his first meeting with him was open and transparent; much like the orphanage director, it seems he thought this treatment would make him strong and adaptable (he's wrong but that's not the point of this). He cuts Kyouka off in irritation and says "don't give me that" when she implies that she would fail the entrance exam. He tells Atsushi it's normal to cry after losing a father figure and to feel however you feel, even if that person caused you nothing but incredible pain and cannot be forgiven. He refuses to entertain Sigma's assumptions that Dazai sees himself as a superior being to him.
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Selective honesty can also be utilized to great effect; Mori does this, and undoubtedly it serves this purpose for Dazai too. But I want to stress that I do sincerely believe this is all still honesty from him. Manipulation, or genuine?
Both. It's both.
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chloeseyeliner · 1 month
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oh my god.
i am never getting over young royals.
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bogkeep · 11 months
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this may be something i might change my mind about later, but i don't actually Hate artificially generated aesthetic pictures that are like "fungus themed couch" "art noveau inspired camera" "stained glass bathtub" "gothic style platic chairs" or "really fancy sky" tbh. like i think there's lots of room for playing around with ideas and concepts using - applying some good faith here - public domain source photos or otherwise ethically/consensually acquired images. what DOES drive me up the wall is that every time i come across a set of pictures like that there's NO mention that it's artificially created. sometimes there's no source listed at all, which is really common for ~*Aesthetic Pictures*~ anyway. what's worse is when it's like, [Name Of Creator, Name of Collection, 2023] as if it's a legitimate art exhibit, with no mention of the program used to create the pics. that's actually pretty upsetting - the underhandedness of it all. ugh.
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ritsmew-sakunya · 5 months
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google how to stop masking.
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supercantaloupe · 1 year
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i want to be a good little student and have actual researched sources to cite in my hadestown presentation tomorrow but i can find jack shit in the way of articles or reviews that talk about anything even remotely related to what i’m exploring
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mymadmedleyw · 1 year
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-(totally unrelated-to-everything-that-are-going-on) real-life situation but I am freaking out, so irl rant-
Wish me luck! 🍀
Tomorrow morning I'll have a talking with the institution I'd like to study from February. And I'm totally panicking right now.
(And I really hope the administrational site for my application won't be glitchy - the deadline for everything is midnight. I uploaded every necessary document which I have in my possession but the page still says those are 'under processing'. - which about I have a constant 'mild' panic and I couldn't sleep at all.)
Anyway, just now, trying to figure out what they will ask tomorrow from me, I wrote a little draft about my related knowledge and experience in the field that my hoped studies are. I tried to seem wise with the wordings but damn, writing anything more serious is much more harder than writing fics - where I rarely care about to be seemed smart.
Good thing is though, that writing in English and having half of my thoughts in English by now (due to writing fics through the past few years) meant help, but still. This is much more different now!
I'm freaking out. This is what I want. And this is what I want since I finished my BSc studies last year. But I am so scared about it right now when finally MSc is an armreach away. I'm excited but at the same time damn scared.
(Sorry, I had to let this out...)
Once I'll have that talk tomorrow, and once the administration is done too, everything depends on the other candidates and on their points. I don't dare to say that everything is a straight path from there but people are not really that masochistic to learn Master's Finance in a foreign (2nd) language... So, (I hope) that I don't have to much to worry about since that point.
But I am panicking now and I fear to have a panic attack about it. Just imagine the green light: once, I am in, I have to give my 100%+ focus on my studies to understand it, then, during the last semesters write a thesis in English. No wonder I'm panicking...
This is my dream for a while, but still. What the hell!
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lumsel · 1 year
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chinese room 2
So there’s this guy, right? He sits in a room by himself, with a computer and a keyboard full of Chinese characters. He doesn’t know Chinese, though, in fact he doesn’t even realise that Chinese is a language. He just thinks it’s a bunch of odd symbols. Anyway, the computer prints out a paragraph of Chinese, and he thinks, whoa, cool shapes. And then a message is displayed on the computer monitor: which character comes next?
This guy has no idea how the hell he’s meant to know that, so he just presses a random character on the keyboard. And then the computer goes BZZZT, wrong! The correct character was THIS one, and it flashes a character on the screen. And the guy thinks, augh, dammit! I hope I get it right next time. And sure enough, computer prints out another paragraph of Chinese, and then it asks the guy, what comes next?
He guesses again, and he gets it wrong again, and he goes augh again, and this carries on for a while. But eventually, he presses the button and it goes DING! You got it right this time! And he is so happy, you have no idea. This is the best day of his life. He is going to do everything in his power to make that machine go DING again. So he starts paying attention. He looks at the paragraph of Chinese printed out by the machine, and cross-compares it against all the other paragraphs he’s gotten. And, recall, this guy doesn’t even know that this is a language, it’s just a sequence of weird symbols to him. But it’s a sequence that forms patterns. He notices that if a particular symbol is displayed, then the next symbol is more likely to be this one. He notices some symbols are more common in general. Bit by bit, he starts to draw statistical inferences about the symbols, he analyses the printouts every way he can, he writes extensive notes to himself on how to recognise the patterns.
Over time, his guesses begin to get more and more accurate. He hears those lovely DING sounds that indicate his prediction was correct more and more often, and he manages to use that to condition his instincts better and better, picking up on cues consciously and subconsciously to get better and better at pressing the right button on the keyboard. Eventually, his accuracy is like 70% or something -- pretty damn good for a guy who doesn’t even know Chinese is a language.
* * *
One day, something odd happens.
He gets a printout, the machine asks what character comes next, and he presses a button on the keyboard and-- silence. No sound at all. Instead, the machine prints out the exact same sequence again, but with one small change. The character he input on the keyboard has been added to the end of the sequence.
Which character comes next?
This weirds the guy out, but he thinks, well. This is clearly a test of my prediction abilities. So I’m not going to treat this printout any differently to any other printout made by the machine -- shit, I’ll pretend that last printout I got? Never even happened. I’m just going to keep acting like this is a normal day on the job, and I’m going to predict the next symbol in this sequence as if it was one of the thousands of printouts I’ve seen before. And that’s what he does! He presses what symbol comes next, and then another printout comes out with that symbol added to the end, and then he presses what he thinks will be the next symbol in that sequence. And then, eventually, he thinks, “hm. I don’t think there’s any symbol after this one. I think this is the end of the sequence.” And so he presses the “END” button on his keyboard, and sits back, satisfied.
Unbeknownst to him, the sequence of characters he input wasn’t just some meaningless string of symbols. See, the printouts he was getting, they were all always grammatically correct Chinese. And that first printout he’d gotten that day in particular? It was a question: “How do I open a door.” The string of characters he had just input, what he had determined to be the most likely string of symbols to come next, formed a comprehensible response that read, “You turn the handle and push”.
* * *
One day you decide to visit this guy’s office. You’ve heard he’s learning Chinese, and for whatever reason you decide to test his progress. So you ask him, “Hey, which character means dog?”
He looks at you like you’ve got two heads. You may as well have asked him which of his shoes means “dog”, or which of the hairs on the back of his arm. There’s no connection in his mind at all between language and his little symbol prediction game, indeed, he thinks of it as an advanced form of mathematics rather than anything to do with linguistics. He hadn’t even conceived of the idea that what he was doing could be considered a kind of communication any more than algebra is. He says to you, “Buddy, they’re just funny symbols. No need to get all philosophical about it.”
Suddenly, another printout comes out of the machine. He stares at it, puzzles over it, but you can tell he doesn’t know what it says. You do, though. You’re fluent in the language. You can see that it says the words, “Do you actually speak Chinese, or are you just a guy in a room doing statistics and shit?”
The guy leans over to you, and says confidently, “I know it looks like a jumble of completely random characters. But it’s actually a very sophisticated mathematical sequence,” and then he presses a button on the keyboard. And another, and another, and another, and slowly but surely he composes a sequence of characters that, unbeknownst to him, reads “Yes, I know Chinese fluently! If I didn’t I would not be able to speak with you.”
That is how ChatGPT works.
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frmisnow · 3 months
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˙✧˖ ?! — MORNING MISTAKES. - SUGGESTIVE
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— ‧₊˚ — ☕️ : "oh wow, i just knew i was forgetting something when i leaving ??"
summary. your boyfriend forgets his coffee for practice on purpose every day just so you "happen" to come across it and bring it to him -- what if on one particular day it's hard for him to let you leave the practice room?
warnings/includes. idol! jungkook x f! reader, needy kook (rly rly doesn't want you leaving him), kinda fluffy?? idk he's so dear to me, also kinda SUGGESTIVE tho, pretty new relationship hinted?, making out, cursing, ass slapping/touching
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god you felt like you were in highschool again.
that silly little tingling feeling in your tummy as you made your way through the large hybe building, the receptionist just giving you a quick glance with that familar smile that she has been giving you ever since kook has been making his annual 'slip-offs' or as he calls it: "morning mistakes"
i mean- he was so painfully obvious about it, every time you entered the black dance practice room that instantly made you feel small, his background dancers started giggling somewhere in the background sometimes even pushing him towards you, apropos him- who was always smiling like an idiot, like he just got caught red-handed on an accident yet at the same time his acting always being horribly poor.
this time when you came into the room he was immediately at the door, like he had been studying the clock analysing when you might show up, playing with his left lip ring, eyes wide doed as he pretended to be shocked at the coffee in your hand, "oh wow, i just knew i was forgetting something when i leaving"
before you could even think of what to respond, he kissed you so gently, his hands cupping your face with so much softness as the dancers cheered in the back, he hid his head in your nape like drunk, chuckling till pushing the both of you out the room, closing the door behind, the noises now muffled yet audible.
he kissed you once more, like he had been starved of your presence and lips for days as if he hadn't loved you in any way physically possible the night before, robbing you of any sleep.
pushing him away from your body, his hands which were just beginning to travel over you being seperated just for a split second, "you stink"
his mouth opened and closed again, that faint smirk he always did when you said any of your stupid comments plastered all over his face when he shrugged casually, "probably all the sweat from dancing with all those girls earlier, 3d is really perfor-"
you shutted him up right then & there and truthfully he was probably expecting it as his arms wrapped around your frame, greedy hands squeezing and gently kneading wherever they could - in this case your ass.
"don't do that jackass-" you mumbled against his lips, taking his hands away from your skin when in response he made that instant sound of disapproval, tiny 'tsk tsk' from his direction recognizable.
"my hands just slipped, i just had to- y'know," while he was speaking his hands 'accidently' moving to your tits, getting pushed away by yours instantly, "that's just how my hands work, you wouldn't get it" he rolled his eyes for comedic effect but whined as you guided his hands once again to himself and the choreographer shouted something something about his name VERY loudly.
he pretended not to hear a thing as he kissed you like he wouldn't be able to see you for years, like on the titanic, like forces where doing everything to seperate the both of you - which they kind of were, considering the choreographer was still yelling, footsteps approaching.
you squeezed his ass jokingly, slapping it quickly as you ran away from him, the second the choreographer stepped outside the door - immediately beginning to scold kook as all he could do is watch over your figure which was gradually getting smaller and smaller once you finally stepped into the escalator, blowing him a final dramatic kiss through the air, smiling yourself.
your ass would be getting the attention it really deserved tonight, that's what he promised himself for sure.
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cultrise · 7 months
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MIRROR SEX. SAL FISHER
♱ CONTENTS NSFW, mirror sex, clit rubbing, riding him, soft sex, a little praise, p in v ᵎᵎ wc 2.2k
ᵎᵎ check the mlist for kinktober here !
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your boyfriend might not have been as attentive all the time, and that was fine.
you understood the constant struggles sal went through, with everything going on from his nightmares to the paranormal investigation he had ongoing for years. it was his thing, but lately, he had been obsessed about it.
you sighed as you walked around the house, passing by neil who was hurrying out the front door “hey! call me or todd if you need anything, yeah?” you turned around, a smile plastered to your cheeks as you saw the way neil’s dressed “sure thing, dude. have a nice date!” you coo, bending over the kitchen counter and flashing him a smile.
the tall man makes his way out of the house before stopping and rushing back in, panicked “have you seen?–“ you raise your hand, showing him his phone “this?” he lets out a relieved breath, taking the phone away from your hands “fuck.. thanks. almost forgot my own head again” you smile, giving him a slight pat on his shoulder “go. you’ll be late” he smiles back before heading to the door “oh yeah, by the way. might wanna check on sal. dude’s been in the shed for a while now. think he didn’t sleep last night”
you bite down on your lip as the door closes. in truth, you did miss out on the weight of your boyfriend’s body next to you in bed the other night. you just hoped you were wrong. making your way through the backdoor, you step out into the yard, the sunlight blinding your sight. you take in the fresh air, the warm sun, the lively chirping of the birds. your hands hover over the passcode on the door.
the door makes a creaking noise as you push it and you’re welcomed to the sight of the rusty shed, walls filled with articles, pages, and clues regarding the cult you were all investigating. it had been a long treacherous journey that was nowhere close to being over. which is why sal sat at the table, analysing some newspapers into the lamp light. you leaned your weight onto the doorframe as two tired eyes pierced at you from behind the mask.
“damn, you look like shit” you state as sal scoffs “gee, thanks, babe. it’s why i wear a prosthetic” your lips open at his response before you roll your eyes “you know that’s not what i meant, sally” the blue-haired boy chuckles as you approach him. you move one hand to the back of his head, fingers unclasping his mask and setting it down on the table. you take his face into your hands and his head drops limp into them, letting himself be caressed.
your digits trace his scars and run over his tired eyelids “there’s my pretty boy” his eyes shoot open, lips moving upwards into a smirk “thought i looked like shit” your response comes in a second eye roll “i don’t know why you wear that mask around the house. it’s summer, sal, your face is all sweaty” you brush the hair sticking on the sides of his face away “habit” he replies as he sneaks a hand to your waist, burying his head into your tummy with a tired sigh.
“take a break” your voice drops an octave as your fingers work their way to his scalp “please” and he groans in response, pushing himself into your touch “fine.. wasn’t getting anywhere anyway” he moves his head to the right, watching the mess of papers and pencils on the table, all scattered words and underlined phrases that led to nothing in the end. it was frustrating, he felt obligated to help. yet every clue they had found seemed to either be erased by the members of the cult or led nowhere, which made them start over completely.
you back up, making room for him to get up. sal tiptoes, fingers reaching up to the ceiling as he stretches with a yawn, his hoodie rolling up to reveal his abdomen. you try not to stare at the happy trail peeking out from his boxers “after you” he so gentlemanly offers as you both step out of the shed, closing the door tightly behind you. and soon enough, the creak of the bed is heard as he throws his whole weight on the mattress with a content sigh.
you giggle at his behaviour, arms crossed over your chest. he gestures for you to join him, standing on the edge of the bed as he motions you to sit between his legs. as soon as you do, sal slouches, placing his chin on your shoulder and relaxing his sore muscles “missed you” he says quietly as his arms trap your waist into an embrace “i live with you, sal. how can you miss me?” you smile as you play with the rings on his fingers.
you look up at the mirror in front of the bed, watching sal’s expression shift. his eyes meet yours and your spine shivers at the intensity of his blue orbs “i haven’t been around these days. with the investigation and all. i’m sorry” your head cocks to the side, resting atop his “i understand why you do it, sally. it’s alright” he gently shakes his head “it isn’t. you’re the most important person in my life right now. there’s no excuse for ignoring you”
heat rushes to your cheeks at the serious manner of his speech, the sudden confidence rush hitting you like a truck “larry’s gonna be mad if he hears that” you smile as sally meets your expression with a grin “i’m serious, baby” your hand intertwines with his and you sigh, contented “you’re here now” cold lips touch the surface of your neck in chaste kisses “mhm”
“you need to take care of yourself more. you’re fucking up your sleep again” you scold him as he pouts, halting his ministrations “i mean it, sal” he nods, pulling away slightly, in defence “okay okay. i got it” you truly hope he does, since he has a habit of promising to take care of himself and not doing it “i sure hope so” and sal smiles, pressing a cheek to yours as he meets your eyes in the mirror again “i will do it. just not yet”
“what do you mean ‘not yet?’ “ you frown as he smiles, hands traveling from your waist to your hips and thighs “want to take care of you first” your eyes widen and your heart rate quickens at the implication “of me?” he smiles, gently pressing kisses to the space behind your ear “you know what i mean” and you feel yourself break into sweat. you want to be selfish. you want him to let you take care of you in a way only he can. but you also don’t want to rob the precious sleep time away from him.
“you should rest” you say, almost breathless as he smiles against the skin of your jaw “i’ll rest afterwards” his right hand slides up, tugging at the waistband of your pants and sneaking in between your legs. your breath hitches as his fingers find their way to your clothed clit and start rubbing gentle circles on it. you suddenly recall the first time you got intimate with him. the shy stares, the red cheeks, the stuttering. over the course of your relationship, sally had gotten way more confident, being able to keep that soft and tender heart of his intact despite the trauma he had endured.
you loved this man beyond words, he was aware of it and was sure to remind you every day that he felt the same. from small touches to telling you directly, sal was scared of making you ever think he had changed his mind in any way about you. if anything, he was probably falling in love with you more every day. and he knew the spark between you wasn’t about to die anytime soon. especially since he could feel the wetness pooling on the fabric of your panties after a few kisses and light touches.
“should’ve told me you missed me so much” sal whispers as you take ahold of his wrist, biting back a moan “you seemed tired. i didn’t.. fuck.. didn’t want to distract you from your work” you whined as he watched you in the mirror. you felt his hard-on poke your lower back “you know i’ll always make time for you” and his words go straight to your aching cunt, as he starts rubbing faster and faster. you dreaded the idea of having to clean your clothes afterwards.
your moans get louder as he settles his face in the crook of your neck again, sniffing your hair and taking your scent in “missed you so much.. fuck. how could i leave you for that stupid investigation? i’m such an idiot” he groans as his other hand sneaks under your hoodie and starts squeezing lightly at your breast. “don’t call yourself that” you scold again, before choking out a desperate moan. you were so close.
the moan makes sal’s breath hitch and his hand stops it’s movements as you look at him through the glass pane in front of you “sorry, i can’t do this anymore. need you so badly” he groans as he undoes his sweatpants, pulling them down slightly alongside his boxers. his dick springs out, tip leaking with precum as he grips your hips. you’re quick to follow his lead, removing your pants and soaked panties as you raise yourself slightly.
he guides you over him, nails digging into your hips as he points to the mirror “look at me with those pretty eyes” and you listen because it’s very rare that sal takes this kind of initiative, if any, in the bedroom. his blue eyes scan over your flushed face as he pushes your hips down, cunt swallowing his length. the friction makes you moan in unison, his cock sliding with ease between your folds.
by his stare you could tell he didn’t intend on breaking eye contact and, no matter how flustered you were by it, he looked too good to stare any other way. as your ass touches the skin of his thighs you both take a moment to adjust to the feeling, gasping softly at the way he’s feeling you up “shit.. missed this so much” sal moans as he looks down at the way you’re sitting on him “oh my god, sally, move!” you whine as he moans in approval, hands guiding your hips to ride him.
“shitshitshit you feel so good,,, fuck me” sal moans, throwing his head back slightly before he looks down once again, watching the way your wetness spreads on his dick. your hand flies to your mouth as you try to muffle your moans, failing miserably. as your eyes open you can see him staring at you once again through the mirror, cheeks red. the air in the room seems to disappear as your hip movements get quicker, needier. after all, he had unintentionally interrupted your orgasm and you were in desperate need to cum.
noticing your demeanour and reminding himself of how he stopped making you feel good a few moments ago, one of his hands trails down to your cunt, rubbing at your puffy clit again. your pussy clenches around him desperately, his name coming out from your lips like a prayer “sal, oh my god… please.. shit” and he groans in approval, muttering a string of “i know, baby, i know” as he pushes his hips up so he can reach deeper into your core.
your nails dig into his thighs and he kisses your spine lovingly as your eyes roll in the back of your head. his left hand supports your weight as your body shudders, making sure you don’t fall over “fuck, sally!” you whine as you cum all over his cock and thighs, making a mess on the sheets. his hand slides up from between your legs to your hair, caressing it gently as he praises you. you watch him in the mirror with half-closed eyes, nodding at him so he continues to move inside of you.
his lips touch the space between your shoulder and neck as he looks at you, continuing to push him on his cock, desperate to get himself off. you smile at him gently, taking in the view “i love you” you let out, earning a moan “love you too… shit… you’re so pretty” sal whines as he feels himself coming undone in return. it doesn’t take long until he’s filling you up with thick layers of cum, moaning and gripping at your hips with staggered breaths.
you both fall back on the mattress, panting softly as you try to reach for your panties to put them back on. you were way too tired to clean up. you turn your attention to your boyfriend, eyes closed as he pants softly, lips formed into a tiny ‘o’. your cheek presses against his chest, hand moving his face to the side and making him open his eyes.
you caress his features, watching his gaze soften as your eye and mouth corners turn up into a smile “hey” and he mirrors your expression, pressing a kiss to your palm, pupils almost turning into hearts “hey”
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© cultrise | don’t steal, copy or translate my works.
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imaginaryf1shots · 1 month
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Doubt | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 4.1K
Lewis H. x reader
Summery:(REQUESTED) What happens when the news about Lewis move to Ferrari gets leaked and all eyes turn to you.
Warning: cursing? (Don't remember if there's any, but just incase be warned)
Masterlist
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You've been in a relationship with Lewis for a little over two years, and it’s safe to say that they’ve been the best two years of your life. You couldn’t dream of a better boyfriend even if you tried, you don’t think you’ve shown Lewis or his fans any bad thing. You feel like you’ve always been friend;y with the fans, never responded to the hate you got for dating the 7 times world champion, and you’ve gotten a lot.
On February 1st you woke up to Lewis getting out of the bed, you blinked seeing him looking at his phone as he walked out of the room. His back is tense, you slip on Lewis’s shirt from the day before as you get out of the bed, you follow him out and see him pacing back and forth in the living room. You gave him a questioning look but he doesn’t give you any indication of what’s going on.
”-I just don’t understand how it’s already out.” Lewis says on the phone and you start to piece together what happened. “Only a few people know about the move.”
You close your eyes knowing how the media will eat this up and be all over the news analysing everything that ever happened and will happen this season, you go to the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea, you also put some food in Rosco’s bowl. It takes Lewis another 10 minutes for him to finish the call. you go to his side with the tea, he gives you a thankful smile which you return.
“Who leaked it?” You ask him knowing that this is what’s going to be on his mind the most.
”We don’t know yet.” He groans and leans back on the sofa, his head tilted up, you rub his arms and lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.
”What will you do?” You ask him softly, not taking your eyes off him.
“Not address it for now, wait a bit to see what reactions the people will have.” Lewis says and you sigh.
”Okay, well don’t overthink it, it happened, we have under a month before the season starts, so let’s enjoy the last bit of your time off, come on, what do you feel like having for breakfast?”
“Hmm, anything you are I’ll love.” Lewis says with a smile leaning over, you kiss him softly on the lips and get up to head to the kitchen to start on breakfast.
*
you knew this wasn’t the end of it and that the teams will look into who leaked the news of Lewis’s move from Mercedes to the media, fans also were on it and had their theories and as the last bit of vacation came, they got wilder and wilder, the thing you truly didn’t expect os for the fans to turn their sights on you. those that hated you looked like they doubled with the amount of hate you’ve had on your socials, you’re being accused of everything under the sun, you’re being bullied and shamed for your looks, for not being trustworthy, for being a gold-digger and everything else under the sun. nothing really affected you from all that hate, as long as it;s coming from people that don’t know you, you believe that it’s done out of jealousy and want for what you have, they don’t know you so why would their words affect you? doesn’t mean you like it, or that it should happen in the first place, but you do slow down on your social media presence, but you don't sit and let it consume you, you continue living your life and let them talk.
Lewis and you are in England for the last preparation before the start of the season, he’s been super busy so you spent the last few days barely seeing him, spending your time with his family and your friends in the UK. so you’re a bit surprised when you get back from shopping with his mu, to see him on the sofa with his phone.
”Hey, when did you get back?” You ask, smiling, putting your bags to the side, and walking to his side.
”Two hours ago.” He says not looking up from his phone, you hum and lean in for a kiss but he moves last second so your lips fall onto his cheek instead, and before you could react he’s standing up and heading to the bedroom.
”Lew, is something wrong?” You ask and stand up following him slowly, confused, your brain goes over everything that has happened lately trying to find something wrong that you’ve done but coming up blank.
”No.” He says simply, you frown not believing him, he’s acting cold, it’s a stark contrast to his usual self, he goes to the closet and closes the door, you stand there nt knowing ahwaz to do, he didn't kiss you, left you in the icing room, is giving you one word answers, and closed the door to change all things he doesn’t do. you sit on the bed and put your head in your hands that are resting on your knees, there’s something definitely wrong, because why is this happening out of nowhere. You’re biting your lips, stressed and lost at the same time, when he comes out he’s dressed in a hoodie and sweats with the hood up covering part of his face.
“You’re leaving?” YOu ask him standing up, again he doesn’t look at you, another unusual thing.
”Yeah.” Is all you get.
”Where?”
”Out.”
”Oh.” It takes everything in you to get your eyes not to fill up with tears, but your vice is breathier and shakier. “When will you come back?”
“I don’t know.”
“Okay, well have fun.” You manage to say before he’s out of the bedroom and out of the house. Why is he acting so… so asshole-y, nothing is making sense to you right now, there’s no reason for him to be this way, no reason, and even if there was something that you’ve done, you’re the kind of couple that are completely open with one another if something is bothering one of you then you talk it out, you don't just let it come between you because well most things are misunderstandings, and you need to be patient enough and understanding enough to talk it out. You debate calling someone to ask if something happened, but you’re also not the type to ask for outer help when it comes to your relationship, to outsiders they think that you’ve never had a fight or disagreement that you’re the perfect couple. You’re really private when it comes to the dynamic and the inner workings of your relationship.
Feeling frustrated and suddenly so alone, tears gather in your eyes and l eaves in waves, you sit in front of the bed leaning your back to it, and just let them flow. Rosco comes into the room and whines, he rubs up against you making you scratch and pet him the way he likes.
”Do you know what's wrong with daddy? hm? I didn't think so.” You mutter and smile as Rosco licks your hand. “I know, I know, I love you.”
You decide to stop crying and wait for Lewis to come back, because there must be a reason for him being like that and you just need to talk it out, you convince yourself that he went out for a breather and he’ll come back soon, but as the minutes turn into hours and there’s no sign of him coming back, you change into your pyjamas and head to bed. You don’t know how long you laid there, tossing and turning, covering and uncovering yourself. you’re still awake when Lewis eventually comes back,sitting up when he gets into the bedroom, you know he expected you to be asleep from the look on his face. Your eyes are slightly red making him soften up a little, but he’s mad, he’s upset and feels betrayed and it’s eating him up.
“Lew, can we please talk?” You ask hating how small you sound, this is not you at all. you’re always confident and sure of yourself, you’re not this small upset little girl. guess when it comes to the ones you love you’re everything you’re usually aren’t.
”Later.” Again with the one word answers, he changed again in the closet closing the door behind him. You know that if he doesn’t talk to you, you won’t be able to fall asleep, so you move to the end of the bed and wait for him until he comes back out.
”I think we should talk now.” You say standing up but don't move towards him, in fear or rejection.
”I don’t think so.” He says shaking his head and shrugging, still not looking at you.
”Well, it’s not just up to you.” You say frustrated, you’re not backing down until he tells you what you’ve done wrong, or what happened. “You’re in a relationship okay, this works both ways, and you can't just ignore me for no reason because you want to.”
“No reason?” He scoffs, sounding a bit amused before he changes his tone. “No reason, there is a reason, okay.” This is the first time he’s shown you any emotion today and you can’t be happy because it;s all anger coming out of his mouth at the moment and it’s completely unwarranted.
”Then what is the reason Lewis, because surprise! I don’t read minds, and we haven’t even seen each other that much these past few days, so please tell me what happened.” You plead with Lewis in desperation, another thing that doesn’t ever happen, you never plead or beg unless playfully and in the bedroom.
“I know okay, I know, you don’t have to act anymore, you can just tell me.” Lewis says leaving you even more confused.
“Tell you what? you haven’t even said anything, how am i supposed to know what to tell you when I don’t know myself, look Lewis this isn’t like you, we never solve things this way, I don’t know what has gotten into you but just tell me.” You sounded tired at this point, no further well to keep fighting after being ignored and talked to in cryptic words.
”The news about Ferrari-“ Lewis starts before he stops himself.
”What about it? What does that have to do with-“ It dawns on you what happened, the reason he’s refusing to talk to you, the reason he’s so cold and distant, the reason for the betrayed look on his face. You couldn’t help yourself, you laugh, you laugh and you laugh.”Fucking hell LEwis, I don’t believe you right now, I truly don’t”
”Do you deny it?” He asks and you laugh again, every time you laugh you know he gets annoyed but you don’t have it in you to care, you see it now, and it’s all over his face, he’s feeling cheated, like he was stabbed in the back, just betrayed.
”Why does it matter what I say? I mean you already decided that I did it, so why does it matter if I agree or not?” You ask him, shaking your head.
”Just answer me, did you tell the media?” He asked stepping half way closer and this time you step away, you turn and head into the closet. “Where are you going? I’m not done talking about this.”
”Well, I am.” You say closing the door in his face, quickly changing in a sweat set and taking a beak pack and put a few essentials in, when you open the closet door to head out you find Lewis waiting for you, but you ignore him and take your purse from the vanity.
”Wasn’t it you that said that we have to talk?” Lewis follows you and you sigh.
”Yes, and it was also you who ignored me.” Lewis gets in your way blocking the front door. “Lewis, love, look, if you doubt me then why are we even talking, I mean you believe the conspiracy theories that the fans spouted out as if we haven’t been together for years, you clearly don’t trust me to believe that I would do something like this, you have no trust in me.”
”So you’re going to do what? Leave?” Lewis asks and you sidestep him.
”What else am I supposed to do, stay and beg you to believe me? I’m not that kind of woman Lewis and if I was you wouldn’t have been with me in the first place.” You say and open the door to leave. “Once the season starts, I’ll come back to gather my things, same with Monaco, you son’s have to see me anymore.”
You close the door in his face and leave, Lewis stands there in silence and for the first time since he was told by someone in his team that it was you that did it, he’s starting to doubt it, yes you’re one of the only people who knew about his move, but you weren’t the only one. however his fans and his team, everyone is saying it’s you.
*
The season starts and you’re not in the paddock, something that is clearly noticed. In the last two years you’ve been at every first and last race along with as many as you could, you’re one of the wags that are at most of the races. All this rules the rumours but they’re just rumours as of now, there’s no way for anyone to actually know, you still follow each other, but you haven’t posted since you last saw Lewis. You’ve dropped off the face of the earth, gone MIA. LEwis sen you one text saying you can stay in his London house for as long as you needed, and that was it. He wasn’t cruel, he begged you to move in with him and he wasn’t about to leave you in the streets, but he knows you haven’t been there, the security system hasn’t been deactivated once.
Bahrain comes and goes and so does Jeddah and Lewis is missing you, he won’t admit it but he misses you like crazy, he’s so used to having you by his side. You’re always there to hug him and take care of him after a race, whether you’re physically there or you’re on facetime with him. His bed is cold when he gets in, he finds himself reaching to your side of the bed to pull you close only to find you not there and every time it kills him a little. He still feels betrayed but he misses you, he loves you and it makes it so much harder for him.
It’s been over a month and you still haven’t confirmed your breakup and you haven’t unfollowed each other, but the fans have taken your absence as a sight to confirm that it was you that leaked the information.
The truth always comes out, sometimes it’s instant, sometimes it takes a while, but eventually it does come out. So here you are sitting on the sofa at your parents’s house, where you've been since you left Lewis in February. The headlines are bold and clear, someone from Mercedes heard Toto and George talking about the move and sold the news to the media for a bit of money. Suddenly you’re trending on twitter(it’s not X) and flooded with apologies and ‘I believed you’ and ‘we were wrong’, but it doesn’t matter to you, you don't care. You turned off your phone and went to go find your mum to help her with dinner.
*
You don’t turn on your phone the next day, or the day after or the day after that. Feeling happy with the detox you’re having. you do wonder what’s going through LEwis’s mind thought, he now knows the truth as well, he knows that you had absolutely nothing to do with it and as much as you want it to fill you with joy that he’s proven wrong, it doesn’t. You’re still miserable and hurt, you’re so hurt by him believing that it physically hurts you, you lost a big piece of you that day, the piece that you had given Lewis, the part that he promised to take care of to protect to love and he broke that promise, you thought, you believed the he’s different but he didn’t believer you in the end, he didn’t even ask you.
It’s a Wednesday night when someone rings the front door bell, you’re in your room and don’t move knowing one of your parents will answer the door.
”y/n!” Your mum calls for you, you get up from your childhood bed and go to see what she wants, walking into the living room you stop in your tracks seeing Lewis standing in front of you. You look at your mum and dad, your dad had an annoyed look on his face, you haven’t told them what had happened and they didn’t ask, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess with you turning up at their door one random day with a bag and no explanation.
”Hi.” Lewis says and takes you in, dressed in one of your lounge sets with your hair in a messy bun, but looking oh so beautiful, he missed you so much, he missed everything about you. You stand there not knowing what to do, you haven’t expected him to turn up, you haven’t been to Monaco to get your things yet, but you cleared your stuff from his London house and into a storage until just a week ago.
”Do you want him to stay?” Your dad asks and you know that if you said no, he;d kick Lewis out, no questions asked.
”No, no it’s okay.” You mutter and give your dad a small smile, your parents nod and leave the living room and go to the garden, you know for a fact it’s an effort for them not to eavesdrop on your conversation if they’re in the house.
Once they’re out you turn to look at Lewis and you see the bags under his eyes, you know he hasn’t been sleeping well, he hasn’t for a while, you could tell even from the TV. “Sit down.” You gesture for him to sit on the sofa, he follows your instructions and you sit across from him, placing your hands between your legs.
“I uh, I tried calling you.” Lewis says sounding nervous, you’re both acting like you haven’t been in a relationship for over two years and understandingly so, the last time you talked Lewis was hurt about the thought of you betraying him and now, he’s here because you never did but he betrayed you by doubting you and that hurt you and it missed him up. The guilt is eating him up, he came here knowing there’s a big chance you wouldn’t take him back and forgive him, but there’s a bit of hope inside of him and he’s willing to take that risk and try, he’d get on his knees if he had to.
”I turned my phone off a few days ago, it was all a bit too much.” You say and bite at your lip, not looking at Lewis for too long, you haven’t cried since you left him that day, but you feel like you’re about to cry now if you keep looking at him too long.
”I’m sorry about that.” Lewis says and you shrug.
”It is what it is.” You mutter, giving him a tight lipped smile. “Can’t do anything about it.”
”I could’ve but I didn’t, y/n, love, I’m so sorry, I’m truly sorry, I wish I could take it all back.” Lewis says his voice heavy and full of regret. “There’s no excuse for what I’ve done, and I should’ve stood up for you online and for my team. I feel terrible and I don’t blame you for being upset and mad at me.”
”I’m not mad.” You say tears leaving your eyes, you have to look away, your jaw clenching and unclenching, you sniff before you look back at him. “I’m hurt Lewis you doubting me is what hurts the most, I don’t care that you didn’t stand up for me online or any of that stuff, but you were so cold to me and you didn’t even talk to me about it like you usually do, you ignored me and the accused me, you were so cruel.”
”I know, and it’s my biggest regret, I don’t want to lose you, those weeks without you have been the worst and you’ve been, you've been too kind to me, you can yell if you want, curse me, hit me, tell me how messed up I am, just-just give me a chance, give us a chance.” Lewis moves to the coffee table so he’s close to you and there's no escaping his eyes now, the ones you missed so much the last few weeks. “Don;t forgive me yet, wait until I’ve earned it, but don’t shut me out, I’d do anything you want, apologise a hundred times if you want just please.”
“I don’t know Lewis, just as you felt betrayed when you thought I leaked it, I feel betrayed because of how you were.” You say pushing your tears away with the back of your hand, your lips red from all the biting you were doing to not sob. “I love you with all of my heart, but I still feel so hurt, it physically pains me to know you;d think of me like that, that I’d be capable of betraying your trust in me.”
”It was a moment of weakness, believe me darling, it would never ever happen again, never, I love you so much and being away from you is much worse than anything I’ve even been through.” Lewis says and takes your hand in both of his, they’re warm and conferring, you take in the details of his tattoos, the ones you usually take when you’re lost in thought or board, the ones that hold you and pull you close, the ones that pull you for randomly dancing because he just felt like it, the ones you missed so much. You stay silent lost in thought, you know you still love Lewis and you want to get back with him, but something like this can’t be forgotten easily. Lewis gets on his knees moving even closer to you. “I’m begging you my love please, just give us a chance, and if at any point you feel like you can’t forgive me then that’s it, I’ll let you go, no matter what I feel.”
You sigh, closing your eyes and resting your forehead on his, your hand cupping his cheek, feeling his beard, his skin, feeling him.
“Okay.” You breath, your voice is barely a whisper, Lewis thinks he may have misheard or imagined it. “Okay, let’s try to move on from this, but, but it’ll take time for both of us to heal.”
”I know, and I’ll wait for you and help you heal, as much time as you need.” Lewis pulls away to kiss your forehead feeling like a kiss on the lips might be too much right now. “Can I hug you?”
”Please.” Lewis stands up pulling you in for a much needed hug, you stand there for a long time, not saying anything just holding each other. Basking in the comfort of finlay being in each other’s arms again, you’re home.
*
It takes a while for things to get back how it was, you still were offline, and there has been no sightings of you with Lewis anywhere, everyone assumed that your relationship has ended and that you’ve both went your separate ways, but you’ve been working on your relationship and on yourselves, taking all the time you needed to heal and come out stronger than you were before.
So it takes everyone by surprise when you turn up to the paddock in Monaco hand in hand with Lewis, the fans go crazy with the news, the true ones over the roof with happiness. You do have to admit that you missed the paddock and the excitement and the rush that comes with it. You and Lewis aren’t big on PDA, but pictures of you two holding hands, hugging and sharing a couple kisses are all over the internet by the time the weekend comes to an end.
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roosterr · 9 months
Text
white flag ✹ ch 4
note: i had to rewrite this chapter TWICE. im sick of it so pls enjoy. also forgot to mention on here that I have been away this week on a little holiday. didn't stop me writing tho lol.
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pairing: ghost x gn!reader
wc: 2.3k
no use of y/n
readers callsign is 'stingray'
summary: while you're gone on a mission, ghost has time to ponder your relationship, and comes to a long awaited realisation
warnings: ghost's pov, mentions of blood and injury, lil bit of angst
ao3
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ghost never knew how to feel about you.
at first, he really did hate you; you were the bright-eyed new recruit with seemingly endless optimism, he simply couldn't help but be annoyed by you. honestly, he half expected you to tap out a week into the job. you were just so… normal, he found it hard to believe you were cut out for this line of work.
of course, he trusted price's decision to hire you, and deep down ghost knew he wouldn't have recruited you if he didn't think you could handle it, but he looked down on you anyway. it didn't matter how good price thought you were, you'd have to earn ghost's respect.
it was infuriating, the way you fit so easily into the dynamic of the team. they all liked you right off the bat, even the captain, who was notoriously hard to impress. he observed you from afar, watching how you easily broke down their walls and fell into place next to them like it was nothing.
if he was honest with himself, he might have even called it jealousy. it seemed that everything was so natural to you; everything that he struggled with, you did with such ease you made it look like child's play. he especially hated the way you could just be a person. you didn't lock up every time someone spoke to you, you didn't need to sit with a visual on every available exit, and you didn't need to analyse every person you met in the fear that the second you turn your back they'll stab you in it.
you pissed him off, but what was worse than anything else about you, is that ghost had to fight with himself not to like you too.
it was the first time he got sent on an assignment with you that he began to understand why everyone seemed to get along with you so well. the ruthless efficiency with which you did your job was almost shocking to see. he couldn't have predicted how well the two of you worked together; like a well oiled machine, by the end of the mission he didn't even need to communicate verbally, you could just tell what his next move would be.
he finally understood why price fought so hard to get you on the one-four-one – and he finally found it in himself to respect you.
but that didn't change the way he felt about you beyond the field. you were soft, too kind, and too optimistic, you weren't hardened by the job like him. so he went out of his way to be tougher on you than he was with the others, and he rationalised it by telling himself he was helping you; that without a little toughening up, this world would break you, and for some reason, he couldn't stand the thought of that.
when you started to resent him back, it made his stomach feel heavy in a way he'd never felt before. it was new, and uncomfortable, and it scared him. he wasn't sure when he first noticed it, but it only got worse when he came to the realisation that you didn't care for him like you did for gaz and soap.
you could joke around so easily with them, but you go quiet when he enters the room. you never meet his eyes, and make sure to never be physical with him. when he addresses you over comms, you answer with a quick 'yes sir' and that's the end of it. ghost would never admit it, but the distance between you hurt – even if it was by design. 
as he lay awake that night, he thought about what it would be like if you treated him the same way you treated the others. he couldn't stop the tiny smile that pulled at his lips as he imagined laughing with you, sitting next to you, touching you.
he imagined you, taking his calloused hand into your own, so gentle and kind like you always were, and the way his pulse skyrocketed scared him into staying up the rest of the night.
after that, the way he saw you changed. where he used to think you were soft – and therefore weak – instead he saw the way you chose to be kind. when once your constant jokes with the others was an inability to take things seriously, now it was your specialty way to keep up morale, and ghost actually found himself chuckling at a few of your quips.
it was like his entire perspective had shifted, everything about you that used to annoy him gradually became something he appreciated about you.
it took him a while, but he finally came to the conclusion that he… liked you. 
but it was bittersweet, because he already knew you didn't want him, and he doubted you ever would. you'd never see him in the same light, he'd ruined his chances before he even knew he wanted one.
maybe it was for the best, though. you deserved better, someone who would treat you right, someone normal. he already knew you didn't want him, and he could never blame you for that. people like you don't fall in love with people like him, that's just the way it is.
so he resigns himself to burying the feelings he harbours for you. you never had to find out, if you did you'd surely be disgusted by someone like him being interested in you. he couldn't handle rejection like that, not from you.
when price told him he'd have to take you in when your house burned down, he was fucking terrified. it shook him to his core, how much he liked the idea of the two of you living under the same roof. he did his best to avoid you, leave you in peace like he assumed you wanted; but you – wonderful, kind you – wouldn't just leave him to his misery.
you were being nice to him, and he couldn't figure out why. he assumed it was because he was doing you a favour by letting you stay with him; he couldn't even trick himself into believing that you might be doing it because you liked him.
every night, he'd go back to that fantasy of existing with you, by your side instead of at arm's length. you were so close, just a single door separating you, his hands started sweating every time he passed by the living room.
he knew he was a goner the morning you woke up before him. he'd scarcely ever seen you in a casual setting, but walking into the kitchen and being greeted by you sitting at the table, the domesticity of it all hit him like a bullet to the chest.
it was exactly what he wanted, and it scared the shit out of him, so he panicked. he needed to stay away from you, for your own good, so he did what the ghost does best.
he ran away.
he didn't even consider what you'd think, he just had to get away, before he said something he'd end up regretting.
when you came through the door, soaking wet, and laid into him – which he knew he deserved – he immediately regretted leaving you behind. seeing you cry, knowing it was because of him, it made him feel sick. he knew he never wanted you to feel that heartache again, especially if it was because of him.
he'd give anything to start again with you, go back to the beginning and do it all right this time, but the only thing he could do was try and make up for what he'd put you through.
the hot chocolate was a peace offering; he knew you loved it – he even knew about the stash you had of it hidden in price's office, away from the other soldiers. he half expected you to just tell him to piss off, but when you accepted it, he felt his heart soar.
it ignited a spark of hope within him. more than anything, he just wanted you to like him, it didn't matter if you never saw him the way he wanted you to.
he intended on waking you up the next evening, before he left for the pub, but when he saw how peaceful you looked while you slept, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you. 
you stayed with gaz and soap most of the night, and he spent the night watching you from the bar and dimly lit corners, assuring himself that you were okay. when it came time to drag you home with him, he had never been so nervous. taking care of people was the exact opposite of his strong suit, especially when they started crying at him.
he almost couldn't believe his ears when you said you liked him.
he'd dragged you home with an arm wrapped around your waist, his head feeling light as a feather. by all accounts, he should've been annoyed at having to look after you in your inebriated state, but he found himself smiling under his mask the whole way home – even when you almost threw up on him.
when you rested your head on his shoulder on the bathroom floor, he might've actually short-circuited. all thoughts except for you evacuated his mind, and a wonderfully warm feeling blossomed in his chest that made his stomach flutter like never before.
he came so close to spilling his guts to you, but then he remembered that you were drunk, and you most likely wouldn't remember it if he did. so he resigned himself to tucking you into bed with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.
the next day, sitting on that park bench with you, laughing with you like he'd wanted to for so long – it was everything to him. it sent his pulse through the roof, it was complicated, and it was so pleasantly warm.
the logical part of him knew that this would only end painfully for him, but found himself willing to risk that if it meant more of these moments with you.
but of course, he'd fucked it all up at the first opportunity. he'd screamed in your face and he had yet to even apologise for it – for any of it. he felt immeasurably guilty, but he was so scared he couldn't even force himself to be around you.
even price had yelled at him for how he'd treated you. you were traumatised, you had a very real phobia as a result of the house fire, and he felt like a fucking fool for not noticing. he swore to himself he'd make it up to you, he'd grovel at your feet for the rest of his life if he had to, and if you never forgave him he still wouldn't blame you.
he regretted it – of course he did. he let his fear consume him; the fear of you getting hurt, of losing you, and not being able to do anything to save you.
almost as soon as the words had passed his lips, he realised what he was doing, he heard himself. the anger in his voice, the fearful look in your eyes as they glistened with tears, it was everything he didn't want to be.
he felt just like his–
no. he refused to even entertain that thought. he'd never be… that. you deserved so, so much better than the broken husk of man that he was. no matter what he did, he would never deserve you; and it was selfish, but he still hoped that you could somehow forgive him.
it's only been a few days since you left on that assignment for laswell, but he's found that being alone in his house didn't bring him the same comfort it used to. the silence never bothered him before, in fact he greatly preferred it, but now it just felt empty. like there was something missing, leaving a hole in the space it used to occupy.
deep down, the rational part of simon knows that it's you, of course it is, but you wanted nothing to do with him right now. he knew he had to fix things, he would never get over the hollow feeling in his chest if he didn't. that's why he was currently standing at the edge of the runway in the middle of the night, watching the ramp of the helo lower to reveal you, gaz, and the captain.
you looked shattered, like you hadn't slept for days – which was probably true – and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to gather you into his arms and not let go. he wondered if the remnants of dried blood that were visible on your hands and face were yours.
he felt his heart rate pick up as you made your way closer to him, his icy stare softening when he sees how you drag your feet across the tarmac.
when you were close enough, he reached his hand out to grasp your arm, opening his mouth to speak, but he never makes contact.
you sidestep him, and he feels his heart break in his chest. any words he was planning on saying die on his tongue as he turns to watch you slip through the doors without a hint of acknowledgement to him.
price gives him a rough pat on the shoulder as he and gaz pass by. "fix it, simon." he murmurs, before disappearing through the doors as well, leaving him alone outside the building.
he will fix it – he'd do whatever it takes because simon doesn't just need you, he's come to the alarming conclusion that he loves you – he just has no idea how.
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flolio · 2 months
Text
TILL YOU TELL ME TO LEAVE — AERI UCHINAGA X F!READER
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if you claimed to have hated aeri uchinaga, why did you find yourself attracted to the way she smiled, or her laugh? it had to be something in the air, there’s no way you had a crush on aeri uchinaga
﹟ GENRE — highschool!au, loser!yn x popular!aeri, aeri was lowk a hater at the start, enemies to lovers (?), mentions of ningselle, fear of losing people, intended lowercase, not proof read 😞
﹟ WORDCOUNT — 1.06k
i’m just gonna stay ‘till you tell me to leave
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you hated aeri uchinaga.
it’s not that she ever specifically did anything to you, because she didn’t.
you hated the way she would tuck her hair behind her ear before leaning down to talk to you, or the swarm of people that followed behind her as she told you to finish her work for her.
you hated everything about her, you hated her perfect smile, one that she loved to perceive. maybe it just hadn’t dawned on you yet, but you liked aeri uchinaga.
like really liked her, you often find yourself analysing her, sure it sounds odd but you did it to multiple people. you found yourself smiling at how she would slightly bite her lip each time she was stuck on a question, even if she forced you to finish it majority of the time.
you hated the way she would slightly wrap her arm around ning yizuho’s waist, even if you don't truly understand why. “y/n? are you even listening?” minjeong said, if you had told her you were thinking about aeri she would probably go into cardiac arrest.
minjeong hated aeri, it wasn’t the type of hate where you could walk it off, no. she would probably plan every way to ruin her life, if she could. “hm? yeah, sorry.” you muttered, trying to focus on whatever she was trying to have you do.
minjeong seemed to brush it off, you never really tried to talk to minjeong about your unknown feelings towards aeri, because if you were being honest she was your only friend.
as you went to rewrite something, a swarm of people walked into the room. another thing you hate about aeri was that everyone treated her like a queen, I mean it's just highschool seriously?
you watched as the girl you claimed to hate waved towards you, out of the corner of your eye you could see minjeong clenching her jaw.
“y/nnie! have you finished my bio homework? it was due today..” she said trailing off fake pouting, another thing you hated. “yea, it’s done giselle.” aeri hated it when people called her by her real name, deeming that giselle was the only name that people were allowed to address her by, as if she was someone high and mighty.
she hummed in acknowledgment, taking the paper from your hands. she looked between you and minjeong, subtly eyeing her up and down. “ah, I guess I’ll see you later y/n-ah!” she said, not before winking at you. you hated her, and her stupid ways of being able to make you flustered so easily. she knew it too, she giggled as she waved while walking away.
now, minjeong wasn’t like you. she actually talked to people and went to parties, unlike you who stayed home and preferred to only talk to her.
so when she burst into your room demanding you go to a party with her it left you confused, but of course you wouldn’t say no to her out of fear she may never talk to you again. although you knew she wasn’t like that. “this is so exciting! okay stay right there I’ll go get you something!” she said, practically stumbling over her feet.
she ended up dressing you up in an all too tight black dress, with some accessories you didn’t quite know the names of. of course, minjeong picked you up with her best friend karina which also included her boyfriend.
you waved politely as you got into the car, you didn’t hate the guy honestly. in fact, at one point he ended up being your tutor when you got an insane amount of workload from aeri, which resulted in you almost failing a class. “aeri’s been on my ass about this damn party, can you believe her minjeong?” karina said, throwing her head back in agony, your heart dropped.
aeri was going to be there? who were you kidding? aeri was at practically every highschool party, no offence but if you couldn’t find aeri just go to the nearest party and she would probably be there dancing on yizuho.
another thing you hated, she was always touching ning yizuho, you were never able to shake the weird endless pit in your stomach whenever you saw aeri wrap her arms around ning, or trailing her hands up a little too high— “y/n? we’re here.” karina’s boyfriend said, tapping on you lightly, shaking you out of your thoughts.
you thanked him before stepping out of the car, if you’re being honest you never knew how you became friends with minjeong and not karina. minjeong and karina have been attached to the hip since middle school— or so you heard.
karina wasn’t a bad person, far from it actually. it was just her scary aura that levitated people the other way, although whenever you were with her and minjeong she never seemed scary.
when you entered the house the smell of alcohol invaded your senses, it reeked in there. you didn’t mind the smell of it, you grew up in a more secluded area where a lot of people reeked of alcohol and drugs so it didn’t phase you as much.
somehow as you went from the door to the living room, minjeong disappeared. as you made a mental note to ask her about it later you saw aeri. she was in a tight black dress similar to the one you wore but it had a leg split. your stomach churned as you saw her with her hands all over ning’s, swaying to the song. as you went to turn away your eyes locked.
you froze as you watched her eyes widen ever so slightly, deeming you’ve seen enough you turned away walking through the crowds of people.
you found yourself frantically searching for minjeong’s contact with shaky hands. you pressed it, it rang out, one, you prayed she would answer. two, nothing. three, you started getting worried at this point. four— and suddenly you’re being tugged into a dark room.
you screeched as the person put their hand around your mouth, turning on the lights with their free hand. once the lights were on and they let you go, you dreaded turning around. you already knew who it was, but you had still prayed it was minjeong— or maybe even karina.
“why are you here y/n..?” aeri asked as you turned around to face her, you didn’t directly look her in her eye.
it’s times like these where you notice the difference in height between you and her, she was only a few inches taller than you but in this scenario it made her seem so much taller than you.
you found yourself flushing under her intense stare, fumbling over your own words. what had gotten into you? suddenly the room felt hotter than it did a moment ago. “minjeong asked me to come and I—” you paused, unsure why you were explaining yourself to her in general.
sensing that you weren’t going to finish, she sighed. “you know you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, right? you can say no to her y/n.” this had shocked you, in a way she made it seem like she was being somewhat protective.
aeri could always read you like an open book, it made you feel like your whole story was something she was reading just for fun. “do you want to leave?” you froze, more than you already were.
everything in you was screaming not too and that minjeong was gonna be upset at you for leaving without telling her, but how could you deny the gorgeous girl who tilted her head slightly smiling at you? the party was too loud anyway.
you nodded, still avoiding eye contact. she smiled before tugging you out of the room and towards the exit— “where the hell is giselle!” you stopped abruptly, remembering that this wasn’t some crazy dream.
aeri looked back at you with an arched brow, tucking her hair behind her ear and leaning down to eye level so that she could hear you better. “you can’t leave, ning yizuho is waiting for you! you shouldn’t leave your.. girlfriend.” you mutter quietly, the word girlfriend coming out in a more condescending tone than u intended.
aeri furrowed her brows at you before laughing, she continued to tug you outside of the house. this confused you beyond belief, were you gonna get jumped by ning yizuho tomorrow? what if she decides to follow you home or—
“did you— did you really think ningning was my girlfriend?” she said breathlessly throughout her laughter. her laugh, she rarely laughed. you loved her laugh.
“well you’re always— I mean! you’re always you know.. all over her and—! why am I explaining this to you!” you said getting slightly frustrated at her laughing at your feelings, she noticed this quickly and tried to stop laughing.
she took ahold of your free hand and pulled you closer to her so that she could lean down. “I only like you, not ningning.” how could you be upset at the nickname she had given ‘ningning’ when you had aeri fucking uchinaga whispering in your ear that she liked you— more importantly she liked you?
the words hadn’t exactly registered in your head as she pulled away, you stared at her dumbly. “wait— you like me? like, like, like?” she giggled, nodding her head. how could this possibly be the same aeri uchinaga that you hated? no, you must’ve been dreaming.
she looked between you and the all too expensive car that was parked outside of the house, she looked at you once again.
leaning down and pecking your lips before dragging you off towards her car, how could you possibly hate her when her lips are so soft? you reminded yourself to add soft lips to another reason why you hated her.
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inuyashaluver · 3 months
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would you maybe write a Katie McCabe fic with a reader who’s never really had a relationship before so missed out on all the cliche teenage love moments in their teenager years so now that they’re in a relationship Katie goes out of her way to try and make up for all the things she missed and reader just gets to see a whole new, loving side of Katie.
teenage dream - katie mccabe
katie mccabe x reader
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description: in which you’ve never been in a relationship, when you miss out on the lovey dovey moments, your girlfriend helps you out
warnings: fluffy fluffy, swearing
a/n: ahh!! such a cute request, made my heart all fuzzy, thank you, lovely, enjoy ❤️
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
your girlfriend, katie, is a very. determined. woman. she would do anything for you, without a question, without a second thought, without a doubt, she’s there, and she wants to make sure you know that.
when you stumbled into the arsenal training facility for the first time with your big, curious eyes and sheepish smile, she knew she needed to have you, and that was her plan exactly.
you had just been signed to arsenal from sydney fc back in australia. moving to england, specifically to london was one of the scariest thoughts you could muster, leaving everything you knew behind to start a new chapter of your life at just 25.
but thankfully, you had your matildas teammates to help you along the way, fitting in almost immediately and settling into a place you now considered home.
the arsenal girls were your family amongst all the chaos and you truly loved everyone, a particular irish, however, caught your heart more than others.
it was one of your first training sessions. you were partnered up with steph, kicking the ball to each other back and forth until she sent the ball way over your head, unfortunately landing right at the back of katie mccabe’s head.
“what the fuck!” she groans, hand cradling the back of her head before turning with a glare to figure out who the culprit was.
only, when she turned around to see your shocked face, she visibly relaxed, offering you a charming smile as you apologised profusely.
“katie, oh my god, i’m so sorry! steph kicked it really hard and then i tried to get it, but it went straight to your head, and then-” you ramble, the words coming out of your mouth faster than your brain could think.
“you know, sweetheart, if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask?” she grins, you blink and look at her in a dazed state, your cheeks lightly dusted with pink as you looked at each other.
she chuckles at your expression, taking a step forward to be directly in front of you.
“o-oh, um” you stutter, she smiles reassuringly but your brain couldn’t comprehend anything coherent at all.
“did you want the ball back?” she asks amusingly, all you can do is nod, katie smiles and places the ball into your hands, purposefully grazing her fingers against yours, she smirks at the way your breath hitched at nothing but a simple graze of your fingers, she loved this.
you thank her softly before rushing over to steph, cupping your flushed face while she looks at you amusingly. you fan yourself and steal little glances at katie only to see she was already analysing your every move. the fluidity of your movements leaving her in a hypnotised state.
you were both driving each other crazy.
katie didn’t try to hide her advances on you, the whole team would tease you for your reactions to her flirting and katie relished the whole situation.
she loved that she made you all shy to the point where you couldn’t look at her, even when she was basically doing nothing.
from small gestures of holding the door open for you, handing you your water bottle, helping you put on your tracker, you were a blushing mess. it was even worse when she would shower you with compliments.
“hey, beautiful, i like your boots, or maybe i just like the girl wearing them” she’d call out cheekily from next to you in the change room, “thank you” you say bashfully, making her grin widely as she analysed your face, knowing your brain was malfunctioning.
she’d always spot you in the gym and it was obvious to anyone that the two of you liked each other from every interaction you had.
you’d be training weights and katie would make an effort to linger around you just in case you ‘needed’ help.
“hold on, babe, let me help you” she’d laugh softly, before you even got to attempt to lift the weight off the rack, katie was there behind you with a soft smile.
she’d hover her hands by your sides as you’d squat the weight, giving you encouraging words and smiles that had your body burning.
“two more, darlin’, come on” she cheered, when you finished the set, she grinned happily, “good girl” she praised, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“smashed it, didn’t even need me” she grins, “nah, i did, thanks, katie” you breathe out, smiling at her when she handed you your water bottle with a wink before walking away, leaving you a blushing mess that steph and caitlin were pissing themselves laughing about.
“stunned mullet over here” caitlin teases, you roll your eyes and push her off you when she attempts to kiss your cheek, steph laughs at the two of you as you bicker like kids. you like katie and you were sure of it now.
surprisingly, you were the one who made the first move, tired of all her teasing and wanting to take that next step forward. you cornered her after a game one day and she was extremely surprised to say the least.
when you dragged her to the car park by her hand, she interlaced your fingers on instinct and smiled at you affectionately when you squeezed them for comfort.
“katie” you start, “mhm, that’s me, gorgeous” she grins, pulling you slightly closer by your hand.
“i was just wondering if you wanted to..um, i don’t know, go for a coffee or something tomorrow?” you ask nervously, katie was smiling so hard, her cheeks were starting to hurt.
“what, like a date?” she assured, her grin not once dropping at your new found confidence. maybe you were around her too much.
“um, yeah” you mumble, she moves to grab your other hand and pulls you forward, looking at you lovingly. “i’d love to” she kisses your cheek quickly and you try not to let your knees buckle from under you,
“thank you for asking, babe” she places her hand on your bicep and holds it gently, you smile up at her and nod, letting her walk you to her car, departing with a sweet kiss to her cheek that had her stomach swarming with butterflies.
when you went to coffee the next day, it was like you’d known each other for years. you were so similar, both of you would talk excitedly about random things while you learnt more about each other.
katie was incredibly respectful, she just did everything right that you couldn’t fault her. she was perfect. she made you feel so incredibly comfortable, she loved that you were so authentically yourself, she loved everything about you.
katie made you so comfortable in fact, about 4 dates in, you’d told her all about your relationship history.
you’d always been in talking stages with people but nothing would ever come of it, she was incredibly understanding and supportive, listening intently to your every word as she caressed your hand for comfort.
in her head, she was planning all the ways she was going to spoil you, to make you giddy in puppy love. she was incredibly determined to give you everything you deserved.
so, when katie asked you to be her girlfriend, she was proud knowing she was your first.
when you were at her house cuddling and watching a rom com, you’d expressed mindlessly how you wanted that teenage lovey dovey experience and katie made an immediate mental note to give you that. gently kissing your cheek with a sly grin as you both watched the movie.
the next day, you’d arrived at training to see your locker with little heart sticky notes stuck all over it. you gasp and moved closer, opening up your locker to see a small bouquet of flowers with a little note attached to them,
‘pretty flowers for my pretty girl, from your secret admirer -k’ you were borderline almost in tears over the small gesture, your heart clutching at the thought of her remembering your conversation.
when you went into the change room to find katie chatting to leah, she was left breathless when you rushed over and pulled her into a sweet kiss, letting out a little noise of surprise into your mouth.
she immediately pulled you closer by your hips and smiled into your mouth, you pulled back with a quick peck to her lips.
she smiles brightly when you pull away, you wrap your arms around her neck and tugged her into a hug.
she sways you gently while you thanked her, smiling at leah to see she was recording the two of you with her phone with her own bright grin on her face.
you wouldn’t let go, holding her close to you in an attempt to convey everything you were feeling. she hums at your embrace, her hands gently caressing your waist as she holds you close.
giggling and whispering in your ear as you hold her. you kiss her cheek and part from her reluctantly when you had to change for training.
you both had a day off the next day and katie had convinced you to head out on a date. a mini carnival on a sunday afternoon being the location.
you’d walked around hand in hand giggling and chatting amongst the carnival, stopping for photos whenever the two of you were asked.
you both ate carnival food and went on rides, the bright smiles for both of you being the only expressions you’d had all day.
then, katie spotted a photobooth and she immediately dragged you over. there were four photos, katie had you perched up on her lap with her arms wrapped firmly around your middle.
the first photo was the two of you with happy faces with your cheeks smushed together.
one of you kissing katie’s cheek while she closes her eyes in a giggle.
the next one was katie following suit, grabbing your face and jokingly biting your cheek while you laugh.
and the last one, katie pulling you into a loving kiss, the light pink evident on both of your faces.
she grins at you while she watches you look over the photos with a love sick expression.
you really felt like a teenager at this moment, feeling so giddy over the girl, you were so grateful for her.
now whenever the two of you are in the gym, katie uses you as the weight, knowing that it made you giggle.
as soon as she saw you in the room, she gestures for you to come closer with her finger, a smirk evident on her face.
“come here, baby” she entices, you roll your eyes amusingly and make your way to where she was sitting. you stand in between her legs with your hands on her shoulders as she held your hips, looking up at you as you brushed away a loose hair that fell from her ponytail.
she only let the embrace happen for a few seconds until she lifts you up bridal style, squatting with your weight like it was nothing. every time she’d get up she’d hoist you up in her arms and you would yell and giggle at the height, holding onto her for dear life even though you know she’d never drop you.
“katie!” you giggle when she peppers your cheek with kisses while she held you, feeling her smile against your skin.
“mhm?” she mumbles, moving to your other cheek and continuing her little kiss attack. you laugh brightly when she moves her lips around your face before she moves to kiss your lips gently, lasting for a few seconds until she put you on the ground.
she smiles satisfyingly at your pink cheeks, making an effort to playfully slap your behind when you bent down to pick up her water.
“easy, mccabe” you taunt, passing her the water with a kiss on her cheek, she chuckles and takes a sip while she winks at you before she helps spot you as usual.
everyday with katie offered something new, she absolutely spoilt you with an amount of love you didn’t even know was possible.
it only got more intense when you moved in together, happily and easily calling you cooper’s other mum.
not to say you didn’t spoil her either, you showed your appreciation to katie through simple gestures that she was incredibly grateful for.
there was a lot of love and mutual respect for one another that was obvious to anyone and you both couldn’t be happier.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill - just pretend it’s you! ily beffy
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liked by stephcatley and 44,232 others
katie_mccabe11: the missus is pretty cute
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yourname: mammy katie
↳ katie_mccabe11: mammy (y/n)
leahwilliamsonn: still don’t know how you pulled this one
↳ yourname: luck of the irish
↳ katie_mccabe11: watch it.
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leclercss · 3 months
Text
Paris, je t'aime (Charles Leclerc),
a Tainted Love sequel
Masterlist
plot: it's almost three years since your tumultuous relationships with Lewis and Charles came crashing down. but you find your self in a new city with new beginnings and new ways to fuck up your love life. that's no thanks to a cheeky frenchman who's set you up on a double date with someone oh so familiar.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader
warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing
authors note: our amours are back. hope you enjoy this sequel featuring our fave Monegasque.
word count: 4.3k
taglist: @toppersjeep @janeholt3, @princess-siba, @nichmeddar
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"Pierre, I just don't get why you can't show me his picture?" you whine, throwing your head back against the sofa. Clearly you need to work on your negotiation (or blackmailing) skills because you've not made a dent in changing Pierre's mind.
"Because, [Y/N], I don't trust you this time. I've seen your love life, if you can even call it that, in the last six months. It's nothing short of embarrassing and from what I've witnessed, I know who the problem is," Pierre retorts.
You snort at Pierre's response. This man doesn't given a fuck and you do your best to not throw a cushion at his face.
"And what do you mean by that?"
"What I mean, [Y/N], is I've seen you make out with random guys in clubs, ugly ones by the way, who you either sleep with or have to spend the rest of the night hiding from. You're also useless when it comes to Tinder. You either fall in love with their pictures, match, have about a two minute conversation with and then ghost them entirely or you spend five minutes analysing everything that is wrong with them."
"That's no true," you growl.
It's Pierre's turn to snort. "Oh, it is! And if you do end up chatting to someone half normal, you just get drunk and show them pictures of your ex husband's dog".
This time you couldn't control yourself and so you launch the cushion at Pierre's head. Your aim clearly needs some work as you miss his head by about half a meter and hit the lamp above his head, causing it to hit against the wall.
"Right, you two! That's enough," you hear a voice yell from the other room. You look over your shoulder and see Pierre's girlfriend, Kika, storm into the living room.
"He started it," you cry out before shooting Pierre some daggers which earns a kick from Pierre.
"I don't care who started it. I care about ending it," Kika growls as she throws herself onto the sofa opposite then one you and Pierre are occupying.
Silence falls onto the living room but only for a few moments before you look at Pierre again, continuing your previous argument. "Pierre, I don't get why you can't just tell me anything about him".
Pierre, aware of the daggers he's receiving from Kika, simply rolls his eyes.
"Ugh, fine! Kika, can you please talk to Pierre?" you plead as you turn your attention to Kika.
She sighs at you, defeated. "I've tried, [Y/N]," she replies. "But Pierre has made some good points".
You narrow your eyes at her, "Traitor."
Pierre can't keep contain himself as he erupts into a fit of laughter. Annoyed, you return the kick that he gave you earlier which results in a loud cry from Pierre.
"Hey! We're the ones trying to help you out here," Pierre laughs as he rubs his shin, tender from your kick.
"I didn't ask for your help," you grunt, throwing you arms across your chest in frustration. You catch Kika in the corner of your eye trying to hold back a smirk.
"Spit it out, Kika!"
Both Pierre and Kika look at each other, exchanging a little chuckle, before you friend gives you a polite reality check.
"Well, we're in Paris, the city of love. And well, your love life since we've met you has been, putting it nicely, tragic. So Pierre and I thought that as your friends in this new city, we would take the trouble out of your hands for you when it comes to love," she politely tells you.
Pierre snorts again, "Nah, Kika. It's called an intervention".
You look around you to find any other cushions you can throw at Pierre but realise that you've thrown all cushions within reaching distance at his head already.
The truth is that, as hurtful as it may be, Pierre and Kika were right. Your love life since moving to Paris ten months ago has been pathetic. In fact, it's been pathetic for the last three years, ever since you had ended both your marriage to Lewis and your relationship with Charles.
Your intention at the time was to only end your relationship with one of them and in your heart and mind, you were going to end your marriage with Lewis. And that was what you did. Despite his last ditch attempts of rekindling your marriage and relationship, you had declined Lewis' offer to leave your life in London behind and join him in New York City.
An offer like that earlier on in your marriage would have been tempting but after yourself and Lewis both agreed to open up your marriage, and before all of the walls came tumbling down, you realised that whenever Lewis was close to losing you he would pull out all of the stops to become the husband you wanted and needed.
He'd done it throughout your relationship. Once Lewis smelt danger or felt vulnerable, he loved bombed you to the point where you fell in love with him all over again. Telling you everything you needed to hear and throwing you grand gestures like a proposal, a new puppy, extravagant gifts, monogamy (looking back, that one was laughable) and finally offering you a new life in the bright lights of New York City. And when he was sure that you wouldn't leave him and were fully committed, he'd go back to the Lewis of old - doing as he pleased without any questions or consequences. That was until Lewis pushed you too far, he'd tested you one too many times during your "open marriage" and pushed you into the arms of another man, Charles.
In a totally unplanned and spontaneous night out, you had met Charles and the two of you had clicked instantly. Charles was the only person that ever led you to doubt your marriage and relationship with Lewis. You developed a relationship which led to you falling in love with one another. It was very real and very serious. He gave you the love and fulfilment you had long yearned for. He was worth leaving your husband for and you were so ready to do that.
That was until Lewis' offer of moving to New York came about. You didn't want to move to New York. It may have been a dream once but not in those circumstances. Not after you'd already taken off your wedding and engagement rings and told your husband you were ready to move on in your life. This was Lewis' next step in life, not yours.
You were free from your marriage and you could continue your relationship with Charles but something weird happened. It all fell apart one night when you went to see Charles at his flat after you had told Lewis that you wouldn't be moving with him. Your intentions were to tell Charles that you were all his and you could finally start to build a real life together.
However, that’s not what happened. You couldn’t get the idea of leaving London with Lewis out of your head. Even in separation the man couldn’t leave you alone. He was in your mind as you spoke to Charles, kissed Charles and even when you made love to Charles that night. Something deep down was telling you that instantly starting a life with Charles just days after separating from your husband of five years wasn’t the right thing for you.
You needed time to mourn your marriage but also to figure out who you really were. You had been in a relationship since you had moved to London at 21 and had never gotten to explore adulthood and your twenties on your own. And just maybe, you needed a little bit of time to be you.
But that’s not how it went down, or how you had tried to communicate it to Charles. After you and Charles had finished having sex, Charles started a conversation about your relationship and mentioned the possibility of moving in together. You guys were in love and it made sense.
But you freaked out, confessing to Charles that Lewis was going to New York and had asked for you to go with him. And when Charles had asked you want you had wanted to do, you froze.
Fuck, why did you have to freeze? You already told Lewis no but why couldn’t you tell Charles that?
You realised over time it was because that you were unable to tell Charles that while you had said no to Lewis, you needed to be on your own for a while. And how could you tell Charles that after he had made love to you and confessed his loved to you once more?
And so when you struggled to find your words, Charles took it as a yes and that in fact you were moving to New York, leaving him behind. You were ending things with him to be with a husband who treated you poorly.
And when you did begin to find your words, Charles didn’t believe you despite the fact that you had already removing your wedding ring. He was fed up. He’d been humiliated by you and Lewis to one too many times and so he asked for you to leave.
You obeyed and left his apartment. Too hurt and stubborn to speak to one another, you both waited for the other to reach out. A text, a call, something to let the other know that this was stupid and you wanted to be together. But that text, call or something never came. And so you and Charles never spoke again.
Not long after you and Charles ended things, a position in work opened up in Singapore. With nothing meaningful thing you to London any more aside from your best friend Whitney, you applied for it. You were successful and so within a few moments you moved to Singapore for two years.
You finally got your new life and spent the last of your twenties in an amazing city. You even had a few casual, no strings attached situationships. But as you turned 30, you began to miss being closer to home and so you moved back to Europe, this time settling in Paris.
You enjoyed the city and while Paris was famed for being romantic and the city of love, your experience so far had been anything but. Which is why you were here now, letting your new friends Pierre and Kika salvage whatever love life they could manage for you.
You had grown close to them over the past few months. You had met Kika in work and over time she took you under her wing. You hadn’t told Pierre and Kika everything though about your life in London. They knew you were divorced from Lewis and that you had an open marriage got wrong but you had never told them about Charles. How could you even begin to explain that you had fallen in love with someone that wasn’t your husband and then, when you finally had the chance to be with him, you chickened?
No, you couldn’t tell them about Charles. It still hurt you when you thought about how things ended between you. With a heavy heart, you still valued your relationship with him and looked back with fond memories. Charles was still very special and important to you. And so, that was one story you wanted to keep close to your heart.
“Can you just give me a name? Not even a name, just the first letter of his name?”
You were back to whining at Pierre and Kika, begging for any details about this mystery guy that they’d set you up on a blind date with. So far, the only details you had gotten out of them was that you were going out with a guy this Friday night.
As Kika went to open her mouth, feeling a little sorry for you, Pierre flashed her a look.
“Kika, don’t! I know what you girls are like. One sniff of a detail about a man and you girls give the FBI a run of their money, Pierre cried. “No, you’re just going to have to shut up and wait until Friday to meet him”.
Finally accepting defeat, you sighed and rested back against the sofa. Pierre wasn’t giving in this time. With last fight in you, you looked over at Pierre and mumbled,
“Did I ever tell you how much I hated you, Pierre?”
“Yes, everyday”.
-
It was finally Friday and you still didn’t have a single detail or idea about the man you were meeting for dinner. For all you knew, he could be Timothée Chalamet. Pierre and Kika had given you nothing.
Despite withholding all information about this guy, the did feel bad for you and so had brought you out for a drink before you date to calm the nerves. Just one drink, Pierre had said, they didn’t need you showing pictures of Roscoe to another innocent soul.
As you sat in a Parisian bar, you began to bounce your legs up and down, anything to calm you while you waited for 8pm to arrive. With a quick look at your phone, you saw that it was only 6:30pm.
Shit!
You were going to need more than one drink if you were going to get through the next ninety minutes. You were halfway through your first Aperol Spritz but you’d need about two more if you were going to be any fun tonight.
“Can you stop bouncing your legs please? It’s incredibly annoying,” Pierre spat.
Kika, being the peace maker gently placed a hand on your knee to prevent you from causing any annoyance or, in the way Pierre was carrying on, preventing you from causing an earthquake.
You loved Pierre, but the two of you behaved like siblings much to Kika’s despair. The two of you constantly bickered and found ways to annoy one another but did deep the two of you were close and had a solid friendship.
“Children, please,” Kika groaned. As she took a quick look at her phone, you took the opportunity to flash Pierre the middle finger.
Another fifteen minutes had passed and you weren’t any less nervous about this date. While you had been on dates before, it was your first blind date. And while you had faith in Pierre and Kika’s taste, you wouldn’t put it past Pierre to drag Quasimodo down from the Notre Dame and bring him to a Parisian restaurant for your date.
Feeling bad that he’d been taunting you for days, Pierre felt like it was time to give you some reassurance.
“I don’t know why you’re so worried, [Y/N]. Despite being a pain in my side, you’re catch. You’re a good looking girl. You’re funny and smart. You’ve lived in four countries, I mean there’s so much to talk about,” Pierre says as he places a second Aperol Spritz in front of you.
You flash him a grateful smile.
“He’s right! You’ve got so much going for you, [Y/N]. Plus your boobs look great in that dress,” Kika added. “And he already things you’re hot”.
Your eyes nearly pop out of your head. “Wait, what? He’s already seen a picture of me”.
Pierre flashes Kika a look of what the fuck did you say that before accepting a small defeat.
“Yes, he’s seen a picture of you. And before you tell me how that’s not fair, he’s not a freak like you two”.
“But Pierre,” you begin but Pierre wags his finger out you.
“No. I’m not hearing it,” Pierre says.
Great, out of the four of you, you’re the most clueless about your date.
“Fine, if you won’t tell me anything about him, can you at least tell me what he said when you showed him a picture about me?”
Exhaling, Pierre nodded. “Sure, he pretty much grabbed my phone out of my hand when I showed him your picture. He seemed pretty into it, wanted to see more photos. Asked how we knew you, wanted to know as much about you as he could.”
“Oh, and you told him everything right?”
Pierre chuckled. “Not everything. Didn’t tell him that you were divorced by 30. I thought that it’d be funny for you to do that on your own”.
You thanked Kika as she hit Pierre for you.
“Sorry. That was harsh. He was interested in what happened in your last relationship though. If it’s any consolation, I’ve had to intervene in his love life too. It’s almost as tragic as yours,” Pierre continued.
You frowned at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” Pierre hesitated. “He was in a relationship about three years ago. Things were pretty serious but suddenly things changed. There were talking about moving in together but one day, she told him she was thinking about getting back with her ex. They had an argument and didn’t speak after that. The last he heard through a friend was that she had left the country to start a new life.”
A weird feeling of deja vu suddenly hits you. The story sounding very similar to your own. Except that you didn’t get with Lewis. You pause before asking, “Did she get back with the ex?”
“I think so,” Pierre answered. “Either that or she was a snake who used her ex as an excuse to end things with Charles”.
You feel your blood run cold as Pierre accidentally drops the name of your date.
“What did you say his name was?” you ask, making sure you’re not hearing things.
“Merde, I can’t believe I dropped his name at the last hurdle,” Pierre groaned, burying his head in his hands.
You mind was racing a million miles an hour. Surely this was just a coincidence. There was thousands of Charles' in Paris, let alone in France. And what were the odds of Pierre knowing your Charles? And a Charles who had the same break up story as your Charles? No, this couldn’t be it.
“Are you okay, [Y/N]? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Kika asks.
You force a light-hearted laugh before taking a sip of your Aperol Spritz.
“I’m all good, thanks. Just worried that Pierre is going to go into a downward spiral now that his plan of keeping this Charles a secret has failed,” you joked. But deep inside you were freaking out.
What if this was Charles? You weren’t sure if you were ready to see him. Even though it had been three years since things had ended, it still hurt you to think about your relationship. Even three years later, you knew you still loved him. But what about Charles? Did he still love you? Or did he hate you? According to Pierre’s story, he still seemed bitter about this break up with his ex.
“It’s a good thing you don’t have time to go through Instagram and find him then, you’ve got to leave for your date in fifteen minutes,” Pierre reminds you.
Shit.
This was really happening wasn’t it? You were going to see Charles finally after all these years.
Or maybe you were just being dramatic, maybe this was just a weird, fucked up coincidence.
“Whatever you do, [Y/N], just don’t break my Charlie’s heart, eh? He’s had to fuck his way through dozens of women just to get over her,” Pierre teases.
“Pierre,” Kika squeals, “You can’t tell her that before she meets him”.
But Pierre’s comment goes over your head. Charles’ fucking lots of girls was the least of your worries.
-
You’re the first one to arrive and the wait is excruciating. You have a look at your phone 8:03pm.
Fuck, it’s been the longest three minutes of your life.
You’re not sure if you want to look at the entrance and see who walks through the door or if you want to keep your head down and pray for the ground to swallow you whole. Right now, the second option feels preferable.
As another minute passes, your phone lights up. It’s a text from Pierre into your group chat with Kika:
Bonne chance! And if we don’t hear back from you by the end of the night, either my friend is a serial killer or you’re 🍆👉🏼🕳️💦
As disgusting as Pierre’s text is, you’re grateful that your mind is occupied for a few moments as you text a:
You’re disgusting 🤮
Once you send your text, you place your phone back down on the table and put your head in your hands, praying for a miracle.
“I’ve thought about what it would be like if I ever saw you again,” it’s a familiar voice coming from behind you, “But I’d never have guessed that it would be the two of us being set up on a blind date”.
Your head shoots up and you turn to the direction of the voice. It’s him. It’s Charles. Your Charles.
“I…,” you begin but that’s all you’ve got. You’re just sitting there with your mouth agape.
Charles smiles at you, he’s much more composed and prepared than you are. How could he not be when he knew long ago that it was you that Pierre was trying to set him up with? He’s probably had days if not weeks to prepare for seeing you in person again.
He takes a few steps towards you before taking your hand in his. Just like the last time, he takes your left one, moving it towards him. He smiles at your hand.
No rings this time around, he thinks to himself before placing a delicate kiss onto your skin.
You feel your cheeks redden at his touch and whatever feelings you’ve harboured for him over the last three years all come rushing back. His touch still feels the same, delicate but purposeful.
He gently lets go of your hand before taking the seat opposite you. You’re still shell shocked that he’s actually here, which is why you can only muster up a, “Hi.”
Charles laughs to himself a little.
“Hi, [Y/N]”.
It falls silent between the two of you. Charles gives you the space to figure out what the fuck is going on while he flicks through the menu for a drink.
You take the opportunity to take in his appearance. He looks good, if not better than the last time. His face is slightly more mature and he’s let his moustache and stubble grow a little longer this time. He’s a little bulkier, clearly he’s been lifting more weights in the gym. His hair looks the same, long and silky. And he’s sporting a tan thanks to the French summer. He dresses better than he did before.
Charles smiles as he’s reading the menu, clearly aware that your eyes are fixated on him, glancing over every inch of his body that you can see. He looks up from the menu and looks at you, still smiling. He’s confident in himself, he knows he’s in control and he seems to be enjoying it.
Embarrassed that you’ve been caught staring, you clear throat and decide to speak your first words of the date.
“Ho-How are you? You look good,” you manage to squeak out.
Fuck, that was embarrassing. Is that it?
Charles chuckles to himself once more before it’s his turn to eye you up. His eyes take in your loose curls that are falling delicately over your shoulders. Your face looks the same, no difference to the last time he saw you. Still so beautiful. You’re rocking a summer tan too. And as for your body, well your breasts look incredible in that peach fitted dress. You didn’t look good, you looked phenomenal.
“I’m good. And you? You’re looking good too but I’m not surprised,” Charles replies.
You blush a little at his comment. “Yeah, I’m fine”.
Taking one last look at the menu, Charles closes it before looking at you. Giving you his full attention.
“How long ago did you find out that it was me you were going on a date with?”
“Erm, about- about thirty minutes ago,” you stutter.
Charles shakes his head. “Fucking Pierre,” he mutters to himself.
“How- how long ago did you know it was me?” you ask ever so quietly.
“About three weeks ago,” he watches for your reaction before continuing, “Look, I don’t want to do this here. And I’m sure you don’t want to do this here either. Let’s go back to my place”.
Without even thinking, you nod. And as Charles stands up from his chair, he puts his hand out for you to hold. His touch is so warm. He smiles at you softly before leading you out of the restaurant into the warm Summer evening.
He’s still holding your hand as he waves down a taxi. As you climb inside, Charles’ hand finds his way to your thigh as he gives his address to the taxi driver.
You can’t help but look at his hand on your thigh. It all feels so surreal. He’s being so nice to you after everything that happened and he’s going against everything that Pierre had said about Charles being hurt by an ex. But maybe Charles had changed, maybe he didn’t hate you that much after how things ended between the two of you.
As your drive through the Parisian streets, Charles’ hand remains on you thigh. And it’s Charles who breaks the silence between you.
“How was New York?”
Your head immediately turns towards him. His expression impossible to read. Confused, you answer him.
“Charles, I never went to New York”.
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samkerrworshipper · 3 months
Text
warmed - mapi leon x reader
just r cockwarming mapi.. not much more to it lol
ik i keep promising yall angst… its coming… at some stage
warnings: smut 18+
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You’re overstimulated.
To the point where your skin is beginning to itch with the want and need that is pooling up in the pit of your stomach, right where you feel so full and so empty at the same time.
You fucked up, you were well aware of it, it wasn’t like you could make up for it now.
This though, this was so rewarding and unrewarding at the same time, you were stuffed full to the very brim which was perfect, but also so unfulfilling at the same time.
“Keep still or we start over.”
Mapi’s words are a brutal reminder of exactly what position you are in, crammed down against her lap, ass flush to her hips whilst you try your very hardest not to grind or jostle against her.
An hour and thirty minutes.
That’s how long you’ve been sitting in Mapi’s lap like this, no pleasure, no release, no relief.
The two of you had to rewatch your game from yesterday anyways, so Maria had set you the task of staying still whilst she analysed the match against Levante.
You were supposed to be analysing it as well, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when you were filled to the brim with 7 inches of silicone cock.
You wished Maria had given you the easy way out, wished she’d spanked you or edged you or done something else that would make you feel something besides mellowed out pressure.
“Maria.”
Your words are whined out for the room to hear, not that there is anybody else in your company.
“Eyes on the screen, carino.”
Your eyes struggle to obey her command, your pupils stuck to your naked bottom half that’s unmoving.
“I won’t say it again, eyes on the screen unless you want a spanking once we’re done.”
Your eyes snap up, what you want once this is done is for Mapi to fuck you senseless, you aren’t sure if you can handle another minute with her just idly sitting inside you.
“Eight more minutes princesa, you think you can hold up for me until then?”
You groan at her, you want to say no, but the words can’t make it past your lips, Maria seems to understand though.
“Tough luck, make it through the eight minutes or else you won’t cum for the rest of the week. I’m sick of your shit attitude and bratty fucking mouth, you have to learn some way.”
Mapi’s voice is gritty, you know that she wanted nothing more than to come back from dinner, cuddle up on the couch and watch the game replay before the two of you went to bed together.
She wanted soft, sweet, tender.
You wanted mean, rough and hard.
You supposed this was the halfway point, it was Maria’s way of punishing you without giving in to what you wanted.
You’d been obtusely bratty and cheeky.
The two of you had been invited out for dinner with Alexia and Olga, a little quaint double date to a cute boutique Italian restaurant in Barcelona’s core.
It was nice, everything had been going well, until you’d made the decision to start teasing Mapi.
It had started with a hand on her exposed thigh, then your fingers drawing patterns up and down, pushing her skirt out of the way as you paved a path through to her panties.
You were out of your mind thinking Mapi would let it slide, she told you as much when she leant over to your ear telling you not to push her. You’d blatantly ignored her, continuing your attempts at one upping the defender. You got as far as the inside edge of her panties before her hand was grabbing yours and shoving it into your lap with a look of so much annoyance that you knew you were in deep shit.
Now you were here, sitting practically speared on her dick, your juices leakingout all over her thighs and your own.
You watched the clock run down, your eyes aimlessly following the ball as it was passed from side to side on the pitch.
Your legs were aching from the position you were being held in, your thighs being put to use to keep you from moving.
“Maria, please.”
You knew that most likely, your begging was going to be pointless, normally Mapi couldn’t of cared less, but it was worth a shot.
“Say one more word and you’ll see just how much worse this can get for you.”
You close your lips, your eyes staying laser focused on the screen as the clock ticks down on the game.
The last thirty seconds are possibly the worst, your legs start to burn and everything is so much more painful.
As soon as the final whistle blows on the game Mapi is turning you around, so you are now face to face with the Spaniard.
“This is how it’s going to go, we’re going to go to bed, I’m going to fuck you how I like, until I’m satisfied, you won’t cum, you won’t move unless you’re told, all you are here for is to be my little slut for my pleasure, not your own, comprendida?”
You can’t do anything beyond nodding your head.
Mapi picks you up with ease, lifting you up and taking you straight to the bedroom.
Just the feeling of her cock jolting inside of you every few seconds has you moaning, Mapi doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting you to where she wants you.
She manhandles and roughouses you onto the bed, pushing you up against the pillows and spreading your legs open before beginning to move inside of you.
Mapi’s pace is nowhere near fast or rigorous enough to satisfy you, when she said that she was searching for her own pleasure you didn’t realise that she would quite literally use your body as a vessel for her orgasm.
There is no doubt in your mind that Mapi has the little vibe insert tucked into the strap.
Her thrusts into you are shallow, hitting none of the spots that you need her to.
It’s crazily unpleasurable, and yet you don’t find yourself minding too much, especially not when Maria is the picture of perfection, her messy bun bopping up and down, her moans echoing out across the room.
You focus on Mapi, completely syncing out of your own mind, trying to imagine how Mapi is feeling.
You know that your supposed ‘punishment’ would have gotten her worked up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She’s chasing a built up desire, deep pure pleasure thrumming through her lower limbs.
Maria isn’t a overly loud lover, but you can tell just by the way her eyebrows are scrunched up and her pupils are blown that she is teetering somewhere on the edge, you aren’t quite sure where she’s at until her legs spasm and her whole body jerks.
Mapi cums hard and fast, her body thrusting into yours until the after effects of her orgasm have managed to rid her body and she pulls out.
You feel emptier than you ever have, most likely a result of being stuffed full for hours on end.
Mapi makes quick work of removing the strap, once she does she lies herself down on the bed next to you, letting you breathe through the big feelings that you are experiencing.
“How are you feeling, princesa?”
Mapi’s hands are on your face, twisting the strays hairs out of your face and gently playing with them between her fingers.
“Good, just need a second.”
Your legs feel heavier than a hundred bricks, numb and weighed down to the point where you genuinely wonder whether they’ll be in use tomorrow.
“You want to cum? I think you’ve earned it, you were such a good little girl for me, princesa.”
You do want your own orgasm, you think that your cunt will implode if it doesn’t get to experience some relief, but you need a few minutes to recover from the last hours happenings.
“Just gimme a minute, seeing you like that made me think and feel things I never had.”
Mapi’s smirk was cheeky, cavalier and slightly proud.
“Mm, next time it’ll have to be three hours, hmm? I wonder how crazy that would make you.”
You shake your head at the suggestion immediately, an hour and a half had been pushing it, 3 hours was simply ridiculous.
“How about I promise to never be a brat again?”
Mapi rolls her eyes, her mouth reaching down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“We both know that would be a lie, carino. You’re my bratty girl and I wouldn’t dare have you any other way. Now how about we go get clean in the shower and I let you get off on my thigh, hm? You’ve been good but not good enough to deserve my mouth or fingers, you’ll have to work your way up to that.”
You nod eagerly at Maria, already willing your legs to begin moving so that Mapi can’t take back what she’s just said to you.
When Mapi realises that you need some assistance, she picks you up, gently carrying you towards the bathroom.
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