black women>>

✧ lesbian ✧ she/they ✧ mcu addiction ✧ 23 ✧ in love with black women ✧

[owwllly]

sleepy <3

[aashwarr]

Keeping Up with the Joneses is a rotational let's play series that follows the lives of four Sims in their mid-twenties. Although named after the Jones twins, the title is coined from the popular idiom in which one compares themself to others, from their financial status & careers to their material goods. Coming soon to my YouTube channel this September.

More information about the series below.

Cameron & Chasity Jones in Del Sol Valley The newlyweds moved to The Valley with their dog, Ruby, to further advance in their careers as a music producer & a model/fashion journalist. The two have recently gained fame on the internet from their respective careers, but is their newfound celebrity lifestyle too much for this couple to handle?

Camille Jones in San Sequoia After years of searching on the market, Camille has finally found the perfect home in San Sequoia. A new city not only means a fresh start for Camille as a freelance painter, but also a new social circle & new love interests for her to explore. However, her old habits & past flames may have followed her to San Sequoia as well...

Matthew Whitmore in Brindleton Bay Matthew moved back to Brindleton Bay after securing a tech consultant position at Rainy Day Entertainment. He returned to The Bay to not only be closer to his family, but to also start a family of his own with his girlfriend, Jordyn, who is expecting their first child. As he prepares for fatherhood, Matthew must learn to balance his career with the responsibilities of raising a child of his own.

[dark-akademiker]

Love them

[farfallasims]

Nighttime Routine Lookbook🌊

01. Eye Mask | Pajama Set | Slippers & Socks

02. Hair Rollers | Cardigan & Tank Top | Shorts

03. Hair Towel | Face Mask | Robe | Slippers

04.  Top | Underwear | Slippers

Thank you to the CC Creators! @serenity-cc @mmsims @madlensims @vixonspixels @caio-cc & others!

[volensnolenss-deactivated202409]

gojo is sitting with his daughter, playing with her and asking various questions; you are in the next room drinking coffee and sometimes listening to their conversations.

“you know your mom has a beautiful name, right?” gojo is lying on the floor and she is sitting on him, holding onto his big palms. she giggles and nods. you suddenly become interested and you look out, imperceptibly watching them.

“so what's your mom's name, sweetheart?” satoru smiles, it is difficult for him to remain serious in order to hear an accurate answer from his child. you're hiding and looking forward to what your daughter will say.

she exclaims without hesitation, raising her hands high, “her name is my love!” satoru laughs and feeling your gaze, he turns his head in your direction, “look what i taught her, my love”

you don't understand what kind of feeling it is that seems to flutter in your chest, but you chuckle, heading towards them and sitting down next to gojo, “i see, my precious”

[screampied]

ʚ MILLION DOLLA BABY. ɞ ( n. kento )

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. nanami gets dragged to a nearby strip club by his colleague gojo. he insists it’ll help him stop being so pent up and tense from work. there, he meets you—and for some reason, he just can’t keep his hands off your body. perhaps nanami wanted a bit more than just a dance though.

── ◜ ❦◞ wc. 6.0k

── ◜ ❦◞ cw. fem! reader, reader is a stripper, modern au, unprotected, semi-public, ōral (f! receiving), brief gojo cameo, vīrgin nanami, dry humping, lap dance, lots of praise, premature ejaculatıon, size kink, overstim, impact play, breedıng, whiny nanami, teaching him how to touch you, pet names.

you were the star girl,

and the moment nanami had his eyes laid on you it was all over. with his hands buried into his work slacks, his eyes scan around the erotic club. the music blared an unfamiliar tune with salaciously explicit lyrics. he has a look of deadpan as he stands beside his eager colleague, satoru gojo. “c’monn. why so serious, loosen up, nanamin,” he jibes, slinging an arm around the blond. the entire club had pretty luminescence lights flashing in each area. his eyes dart toward the bar before back at gojo who had a scheming grin. “you work too hard, ‘s time you had a little fun, huh.”

“maybe,” he utters, bringing a hand toward his back to scratch near his faint undercut. part of that was true. nanami basically lives in the workplace. overtime was his best friend, and it was the only source of entertainment he had. until now. with a sigh, he skims around the venue full of women. “i’ve never been to these … things before, how do i even—”

gojo hums. “oh, what a coincidence,” and the white-haired male does a subtle waving gesture at a pretty dancer that was currently unoccupied, you. “excuse me angel. yeah, c’mere,” and you sashay toward him with a gentle smile. nanami eyes land toward you and you were so pretty. compared to the other dancers, your outfit wasn’t as revealing. it showed a bit of skin but had just the right amount, perfectly bedazzled and all. your heels clank and clank against the carpet floor before you peer at the revisiting customer. “would you be a doll ‘n take him near the back?”

“right this way sir,” you reply in a sweet coo, and it was a split second of eye contact. nanami felt a hitch in his breath. he’s never been one to be nervous, but it was something about your laid back aura. it was captivating. as you led him toward the secluded vip room, his eyes peek at your back. straps of your lingerie decorate against your skin before he turns away once you face him. “kentooo nanami,” you read his name tag that stuck against his shirt. once he sits down—you notice how stiff he was. with a sly smile, you strut a bit towards him. “is this your first lap dance?”

“is it that obvious?” he murmurs with a timid hum, an attempt to be playful back.

“to me,” you purr, and the locked eye contact makes him realize — you were definitely gonna be his favorite girl for tonight.

the air grew substantially thick, it was so thick that you could cut the invisible tension with a knife.

nanami laid back against the velour cushioned sofa, bringing his hands toward his thighs to allow them to rest on his clenched muscles. his eyes remain on you the entire time, your body and the way your hips slowly sashay and roll toward him.

your cobweb designed fishnets wrap and snake around your thighs like ribbon before you teasingly make him spread his legs a bit more.

“ease up, nanami,” you whisper, the thundering music in the room almost talking over you.

“kento,” he corrects you in a low husky tone, feeling himself get a bit turned on from your touch - your demeanor.

nanami couldn’t keep his eyes off you at all. you toyed with his tie that was neatly tucked into his shirt, literally wrapping it around your finger, wrapping him around your finger. after a second passes, he sighs. “you can call me kento, sweetheart.”

“okay, kento,” and the way you repeated his name back to him did something to him. your words, the undertone of it all - the smoothness. your delivery was as sweet as honey.

leisurely, you make your way onto his lap before you straddle him. his breath hitches immensely, feeling your silk woven attire grind itself against him. your arms wrap around his neck, teasingly moving up and down as you start up your regular routine.

your body, it moves with the constant repetitive beats of the loud pop track playing in the background. you’ve probably heard that same song for about ten times this entire night.

nanami grows quiet, gentle fawn eyes never leaving yours. you were so enticing, hitting every beat with your body as if it was nothing.

the man struggles to contain himself, tips of his stubby fingers desperately fighting the urge to touch you. he knows the policy, gojo rambled to him all about it and how the dancers weren’t supposed to be touched but you made it hard.

so fucking hard—

actually, you made him hard.

that was the point though, as tempting as you were. nanami ogles at your hips and the way it does a few simple twists and jerks. he grunts, and already, you could feel a bit of a hardened bulge.

the warm friction that clings from his pants to your lingerie feels like shocking static. it makes him hurl his head back slightly. you spot his adam’s apple bobbling in rapture before he bawls his fist. “good … god,” he grumbles in a gruff hiss.

the more you move against him, the more he gets a few sweet wafts of your scent. you smelled so good. so sweet, it’s almost peachy. as if your touch wasn’t enough, your aroma had him going crazy. driving him to the first street of absolute insanity. nanami has a nervous grin, eyeing you finally. “forgive me, sweetheart—but i can’t touch you .. like at all?”

you pause with a cunning smile, leaning up close to where you can spot his blond stubble through your peripherals. “hmm, well no. but i wouldn’t mind if you hold my hips, kento.”

you got a smell of his own cologne, it was strong and definitely not the cheap kind. the rich pricey kind that gives you a headache after a while. nanami gifts you a look of what seems to be lust. hesitating, he utters in a soft voice. “can i?”

“go ahead, ‘ken,” and you were just a tease, shortening his name like that. gradually, his hands grab ahold of your waist. you’re still rocking to the steady, booming beats of the song’s chorus before he huffs. you start to pant a little yourself, feeling the tepid heat of his fingertips ghost against your skin. with a playful simper, you lean into his neck, whispering into his collarbone. “that’s it, touch me more. don’t be shy, ‘s good.”

nanami was sober but he felt like his head was spinning. he’s never participated in something so erotic, so … lewd.

it was just a simple lap dance.

he was addicted to the way your hips gracefully went against him. you made sure to rub yourself against his obvious growing bulge, feeling him harden right underneath you. “f- fuck,” he swallows, making sure to not hold onto your skin too tight. he was gentle, a pure gentleman. you’re still moving swiftly before you turn around, having your back face him. he watches with bronze dilated pupils, feeling your rear bump and bump against his zipped fly. “mhm,” he takes a peak at your back again, the moving muscles so pretty that they could be easily painted into a sculpture. you had him enticed, the way you moved was just pushing him further and further toward the edge. “you’re s- so pretty,” he murmurs, his voice low but still had a bit of cute awkwardness underneath. you could tell this entire thing was new to him. nanami’s never had a girl straddle against his lap—let alone dance on him.

not in the way you do.

“touch me,” you mumble, grabbing his idle hands. he gasps, watching as you guide them toward your chest. you’re grinding against his lap with an impish closed-eye smile. he’s gingerly feeling you up, thumbs bristling against the glittery fabric that stuck on your skin like glue. “like that, yeah.”

still,

nanami kento was a gentleman.

he made sure not to touch your breasts until you made a gesture that it was okay. he was respectful—something you weren’t that used to. it was a nice new touch. he was savoring your beauty right in front of him. you grabbed both of his broad hands, making him gently feel against your tits and he grunts. you weren’t making this easy, not with those hips.

it seemed as if it was only you and him in the entire world. as his fingers dance near your skin, he feels a faint sharp edge of dollar bills sticking out of your top piece. “so gorgeous,” he says hoarsely, and you found it cute how he didn’t know what else to say except to compliment you. “your curves are so mesmerizing.”

your breath gets caught in the back of your throat for a moment— feeling his warm breath tickle against your right earlobe. nanami was easing up a bit, though he was still a bit nervous. you heard a tiny tremor in his voice, his hands still roaming everywhere on your body from your guiding.

the lap dance lasts for a good ten minutes, though it’s as if time barely passed. it’s as if it was hours,

and as you’re finishing up, you feel a sudden wetness prod underneath your panties. glancing down, you stare at his pants and you hold back a smile. oh, perhaps you were a bit too good. nanami groaned, appearing worn out with blond strands all ruffled. “did you just … cum?”

“i— fuckk,” he swallows a lump in his throat, feeling the embarrassment take over.

nanami definitely came right through his pants. you saw the grey dampening mark - cute. looking at the man, he tried to hide his discomfiture by flashing a smile but it’s just adorable. “no,” he tries to play it off, but not even seconds later, throwing his shoulders down, he sighs with an almost pout. “yeah, i .. did. i came.”

“don’t be ashamed.” you sweetly reassure him, still taking a seat on his lap. you gently brush a thumb alongside his undercut, feeling the stain paint against the outer part of your panties.

nanami stares back at you, and for a moment, his eyes dart toward your lips. they looked so kissable,

he saw the crooked smile on your mouth about to form before you inch closer and closer. teasingly, you finally speak again and your breath fans against his lips. “do you want a kiss, ‘ken?”

you were gonna be the death of him,

he’s already panting. his eyes, mousy brown eyes were all shot and blown—never once leaving your tantalizing hips. “y- yeah, if that’s alright,” he swallows, and you hum. he was covered in nervousness. as if it was an attempt to stop the sudden heat in the room, nanami yanks his tie back and forth. you’re still straddling him, feeling against his prodding boner before strumming a thumb against his lip. “you .. won’t charge me extra for a kiss, right? not that i’d mind, hah.”

“don’t worry, this one’s on me, ‘ken.” you mutter in a sweet voice.

he grunts, the staticky friction scooting against his slacks was almost too much to bare. you felt the outline of his cock and it’s big. with a quick glance, he stares at your lips - shimmery.

the gloss that smothers against your mouth made him want to get a taste. just a tiny taste.

not now but right now.

you were slow, making sure to purposely drag every second. the music continues to blast loudly in the background before you finally close the aching gap between you and the businessman.

nanami groans, his hands having a mind of its own—grabbing and feeling all down your body. you rocked your hips in a playful rotation, swerving all against his lap as your lips crash onto his.

sweet,

you tasted the sweetest you’ve ever been. his heart was racing as his tongue gently glissades near yours, creating a sloppy sultry slope. “mhm.” a raspy grunt escapes out of him, wanting more of you each second. you were a tease, shaking your body against him in such a coy manner.

his boner only grew and you felt it - all of it.

with his eyes flickering, you gingerly ghost a finger down his undercut to hear him moan gravelly into your mouth. it was as if just a little touch from you had him forming into putty.

nanami could taste the brief tang of what tasted like tequila roaming on your buds. so sweet, his head reclines back and you grab a fistful of his collar.

each sway had him lusting for you harder — you peep nanami reaching into his suit pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill before sticking it right between your pristine-colored straps. “damn, you’re so pretty,” he grunts, feeling the bulging sensation intensify. and yet, as he’s speaking between hot, wet kisses, he feels you run a finger down his chest. “i want a better taste, sweetheart,” and his hands trace down the curvature of your curves, stopping near your ass.

he wanted that kind of taste,

the taste where you’d be bent over the sofa gasping for air at the sloppy stripes of his tongue work.

nanami didn’t know what he was doing but one thing was for certain—he knew how to make you whine.

he’s never had a taste of something so sweet before. especially nothing a sweet as you,

just a few kitten licks and he was whipped. strands of satiny saliva dribbles past the naturally crooked corners of his lips and onto your cunt. you’re throbbing, failing to keep your legs open as he’s dug face first between you. the noises that echo out of his mouth had you feral — you moan, your own sobbing cries for more being tuned out by the screaming erotic lyrics. “k- kenn,” you huff, using two hands to grab onto his fawn strands.

you’re met with the kindest eyes but oh, the most pussy drunken expression imaginable.

it’s as if he’s been waiting for this day.

his tongue glides against your clit before it turns into quick succulent sucks. it’s loud, you’re panting heavily in irregular breaths before your head tosses itself back. nanami’s on his knees and you bite your lip at the expense of feeling such ecstasy. you’re met with delicate, mahogany eyes which were full of nothing but lust and desire.

usually, you weren’t one to just have a client propped up between your thighs, but if you were being completely honest, nanami was quite easy on the eyes. not only that, but he was patiently tender. his awkwardness only made him ten times more attractive if anything.

it seemed you were his first lap dance and it also seemed that you were his first taste of pussy.

“t- that’s it, ‘ken,” you puff out a single breath, both hands digging into the thin roots of his scalp. he groans, leaning forward as he allows his tongue to do all the talking. nanami slurps against your swollen cunt, adding suction onto your sensitive nub. you’re a whiny mess, seconds barely pass and you’re already rutting your jagged hips against his face.

by now, it’s a shimmery snail trail of your sweetened slick racing down the chiseled areas of his chin. right near the bottom, he made sure to go slow because he wanted to savor your taste.

perhaps maybe this was what he was missing.

you,

his nose gently thrashes against your folds, taking a brief whiff of your scent. your glacé-like scent drove him crazy. nanami grouses a tiny pout, he can’t help but slither a free hand down his beige slacks. you glance down, watching and the thought of him attempting to get off to your pleasure makes you throb. “f- fuckkk.” he grumbles, blond brows contorting together into a slight curve.

nanami was so pent up, his tongue plays with you for a bit, licking against your halfway torn fishnets. they were designed to make it look like it was a spider web . .

soooo pretty, tangled and all.

speaking of tangled,

that was the entire definition of your fingers. you comb each digit swiftly through his strands, yanking his face closer against your dribbling slick.

nanami’s tongue was fragile yet rough - once he started, it was no stopping.

you’re whining over and over until your voice was a broken record. your body slumps back against the fat cushion before you feel your tummy start to heave.

“mhm, look at me, kento. eyes up here baby,” and you’re staring face first with most sweetest eyes.

brown and full of care. a dirty kind of care though.

you continue to massage a hand through his scalp before positioning his head a certain way. “hah, stick out your tongue more. lay it a little flat,” and once he does what you say, twitching muscle collapsing onto your cunt, you moan. “good fuckin’ boy. suck it there, yeah.”

and he groans. lowly, it’s so low that it’s almost a snarling growl.

he didn’t expect for his dick to twitch again. this time it’s not from your taste or even your touch but your words. nanami’s stroking himself, fisting his fat cock with his bare hand before you could almost make out a whine from him.

“say it again,” he murmurs, nose deep into your pussy. and even still, his breath fans against your folds and you were already so so close. you were reaching the breaking point - it was inevitable.

nanami’s staring at you as if he’s pleading for you to repeat your words. pleading for you to praise him once more. “call me that again, sweetheart.”

with a sly smile tugging right onto your lips, you cup his face, giving him a teasing expression. squeezing his pink lips together for a moment, you hum. “oh, you like that?”

“a bit, yeah,” he sighs, feeling the strain in his pants tighten. you had him so hard, so fucking hard. nanami could have came just from the sound of your voice. once you drag his face away from your cunt, a bunch of saliva starts to trickle from the sides of his mouth. it pours out slowly in such a way, it’s as if he forgot what manners were. there was no manners when he was slobbering down your folds with your own slick following from his spit-slick lips. nanami leans into your touch, watching through his peripherals at how you strum a bit of spit away from his mouth before making him nod up and down. “your voice turns me on, pretty.”

“bet it does,” you play along, breath hitching from the rigorously circular rotations of his tongue. he’s so nasty, flicking and sliding it, allowing it to roam through the opening of your slit before sucking mercilessly. you whine, leaning back until you’re all spread with your thighs being pried open from his hands. “good boy, ‘s good. make me cum, ‘ken. can you be a good boy ‘n do that for me?” and you peer down at him, ruffling his already ruffled strands. “y- your tongue can be my tip if you want.”

with a dry chortle, he laughs against your cunt, sucking against your pulsating nub until you’re almost wailing out desperate cries. cool breath fans against your entrance and you swallow, looking down at him. “you’re too kind my love,” and his words were so smooth.

you’re haphazardly jolting and rutting back against the cushioned sofa and pretty much fucking yourself against his face as he’s slurping you clean. dragging his head against your wet cunt with your mouth open, dangling like an earring.

a strong ripple of waves surge out of you before you’re creaming. you’re laid back against the sofa, legs all sprawled open and he’s eating up your expressions everytime. he has a flustered look, tasting a nice amount of even more slick trail down your folds. nanami gulps, pretty long lashes fluttering as he’s relishing in the aftertaste of your candied juices.

your legs felt like they were about to fall off. your orgasm was loud, incredibly falling on deaf ears as the music remains to drown out your lewd sorrows in the background.

“f- fuck, fuckkk,” you drag out in a cute elongated syllable, so dramatic.

the air feels feverishly hot again and you start to fan yourself, glancing down to see a pussy drunk nanami right between your thighs. yet, you’re still riding out your release and he starts sucking your pulsing cunt again. you gasp, squirming with a hand gripping his strands, giving it a solid yank before you moan out his name in pleasure. “ken, oh my g- goddd,” and he’s making out with your pussy. a simple french kiss, tickling the slit open area with the pointed tip of his buttoned nose. “s- sensitive, ‘m sensitive.”

“so good,” he groans and you had to physically pry him face off of your pussy. his tongue, you could still feel it. as you’re looking down, he shoots you a sleazy grin, and removes his hand from his pants. “c’mere.” he huffs through full lungs. a sheet of your tasty arousal drips down his chin, coating his stubble before he leans into you. with your legs still wide and dangling over the cushioned furniture, you feel him go between your legs, softly cupping your chin.

out of breath and out of mind, your eyes become significantly half-lidded.

you moan, feeling his warm plushed lips make haste against yours. it’s sweet, bittersweet.

lazily parting your lips for him to gain access, he slides his own into your mouth, one hand gently caressing every part of your body. he feels against your attire, your skin. the plethora of goosebumps that sets against you, you whine into his mouth before feeling his bare cock rub against your soddened entrance.

it’s hard,

he grunts once you feel it because he feels it too.

again, his cologne gets louder and so does your own aroma. nanami’s session ended a long time ago, but no one could even care about the time limit. already, he started to gain a liking to you. perhaps strip clubs weren’t so bad, not if you were here.

your hand playfully runs down his buttoned up shirt, tugging him closer and you taste yourself on his tongue. for a concise second, it’s a bit sour but it turns …. sweet.

your brows furrow as you lock your legs around him, feeling his mushroom tip prod against your opening. he was growing impatient, so so impatient.

“god, i want you so bad,” he speaks between kisses. nanami’s voice was a low gruff. almost dangerous with how much baritone lingers on his voice. dangerously sexy,

he felt the familiar lump in his throat arise again. it’s as big as a saucer, making him find it hard to swallow down for a second. with your hands running down his chest, he felt a pang of chills surge all down his body. your fingers knew what they were doing, dancing against his body. with rough breaths mashing against each other, he finally breaks away and his forehead touches onto yours. “i need you.”

“what’s stopping you?” you reply breathlessly, and his jaw clenches at the slight tease in your tone.

a tease until the very end,

nanami’s now back to his current position, sat on the squashy cushioned material—once he falls back in defeated surrender, it slouches inward from the weight. all eyes were on you,

he could see a bit of shine glisten near your thighs. nanami’s entire mouth from the chin down was covered. he didn’t even care nor bother to wipe his mouth either, he licks it clean with his tongue, luxuriating in your candied taste. his new favorite treat.

the taste was just a reminder of how good he was devouring you earlier. right near the crevices of your legs, your fishnets were practically torn and he goes manspread. “don’t make me wait, princess,” he grumbles with a cute pout, already developing some kind of attachment to you. this entire thing was new, he’s never tasted something as sweet let alone run his fingers down someone’s pretty cunt that was even sweeter.

with arched brows, you watch as he wraps a hand around his fat base. “want another lap dance.”

“do you want a lap dance or do you want me to give you a ride, ‘ken?” you tease, slowly working your hips toward him. he gulps, the bratiness hiding underneath your tone turning him on ten times more.

you knew what he wanted,

nanami’s dick was pretty. a mushroom tip with a bit of loose foreskin that peels from each stroke of his hand. his cock was hefty too — it had a bit of a downward curve, hanging just from how fat it was alone. you spot a few slanting veins that run down his shaft, decorating his cock and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. rolling your hips to where you’re doing an appetizing belly roll. your rhythm was hypnotic, he studies the way your abdomen curls in such a hot manner. and just like that, he’s hard … again.

as he’s deep in thought, having a little fantasm about you, you gradually take your seat on his lap.

he strums a finger against the beads that wrap around your waist, giving them a playful tug as they lightly thwack against your skin. the beads he didn’t even notice because he was too busy being enthralled by your beauty. “i… need to feel you.” he grunts, hearing the shudder in his voice.

pathetic, maybe,

but he desperately wanted to feel your warmth. his earns burn with torridity before you hover your entrance over his tip.

another song starts up in the background again and it’s loud. the same casual beats of some random tune playing, raunchy explicit lyrics from the singer’s voice. “you want me, baby. you don’t need me,” you purr, and you’re holding back a bundle of your own moans. his tip, it’s sweltering hot, a few splotches of pre-cum coating the top. you grind your hips slowly and he’s already about to lose it. nanami’s head was tilted back to a sexy degree angle and you fiddle with his loose tie some more. “mhm, you’re so tense, ‘ken. relax,” and almost instantly, his dick twitches.

it was barely even movement - barely any friction and yet, just your sloppy cunt was enough to make him cream. and surprisingly, it does.

he doesn’t even go in yet and he’s cumming. nanami groans, pulling you into his chest, hot breaths burying into your neck as he’s painting your entrance with a few spurts of pre. “f- fuck. ‘m sorry. didn’t know i was s- so turned on,” and it’s cute. whilst he’s babbling his sorries into the corner of your neck, you jerk your hips forward into his. slowly, your chaotic rhythm was doing nothing by driving him mad. “god, i- i— i want it. ride me, sweetheart.”

judging from his body language alone, you could tell he’s probably never done this before, experience this.

already, he’s came twice and he’s breathing heavy as if he’d ran a marathon. swiping a thumb over his undercut, you meet his lust-driven gaze. “you sure?”

“m sure,” he nods, entirely breathless. nanami’s unkempt strands of hair ran down his face, making him more attractive, more needy. his lips were glossed and sheeny, covered in your own natural gloss from earlier. his hands wrap around your waist, guiding you to feel him more from the inside. “take my stress away, baby. do your dance on me some more, p- please.”

“lie back ‘n relax, kento.” you whisper against his ear, teasingly licking near his lobe. your hands playfully shove him back. he groans, feeling his body collapse into pleasure against the sofa. it’s a long pause before he feels you starting to make your way onto him. his jaw tightens and he tries to relaxes, he tries but he can’t help but grunts.

it’s so warm inside, parched and hot. your walls were so welcoming, having him on a leash. your pussy gets ahold of him tightly and you’re only just a few inches in. your lips spread open from the stretch, it’s so big and wide that it’s literally hard to miss.

just a few,

inhaling a single three second breath, your arms toss over his broad shoulders and you moan.

nanami was a packer, it was really no secret. he had some girth along with the sides of staggering tall inches. you never give any other customers this kind of treatment so you wondered what made him so different.

nanami’s charm for one, and his adorable awkwardness drew you closer to him … teaching him how to touch you, how to feel you up in all the right ways made you throb regardless.

he sucks his teeth at the curt tightness that made an appearance. you’re getting a front row view of his russet blown irises rolling alllll the way back.

just a few solid inches and he was already drunk from your cunt. a hand trails its way toward the center of your ass - tenderly caressing it from top to bottom as if it was heart shaped.

“ugh, s- so goooood.” he drags out his words, delving his cock more into you. you’re slow, making sure he feels every part. the music grows louder, but even still, it’s like it was just you and him in the room.

the saturated squelches rang and reverb through the thin walls of the vip room - flashing flashy lights creating a type of pearly flash against the rhinestones that stuck against your half-on outfit. nanami’s hands resume to roam and wander everywhere, not missing a single spot of your curves. he was a thorough man.

a very thorough man,

once he’s fully in though, you hear a raspy pant get snatched out of his throat. nanami was finished, you defeated him with ease as if your cunt was the opponent. the second your hips start to rock against him, he’s already groaning. it felt too good. your pussy .. the insides, the heat.

if you squint enough, you could see a bit of drool pouring out of his mouth. “you’re messy,” you tease, leaning in to kiss the side of his lip. he grunts from the simple touch, feeling you dig your knees into his thighs for support. “does it feel good, ‘ken?”

“y- yeah, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a husky tone, eyes half open and a crooked pussy-drunken grin. again, his adam’s apple bobs and you shiver from a brief sensation of frigidness. the cold band of his pricey watch brushes up against your waist. you’re rutting your hips further into him, grinding slowly. nanami’s already feral - and for whatever reason, every time he addresses you as his ‘sweetheart’ it makes you pulsate. “so good, make me feel so mhm, good.”

“touch me more, ‘s okay,” you whisper, hearing his breathing pick up from your words. he was already sensitive and the sweet melodies of your voice was just enough to send him over.

nanami’s hesitant but you reassure him you want to feel his big hands slide down your luscious hips. you want him to guide your hips, you want nanami kento just as much as he wanted you.

maybe this was unprofessional and maybe, just maybe your boss would kill you, but you could honestly care less.

all you cared about was fact you were about to cream all down his thickset cock. your legs zealously rattle against his the more your body rocked. your hips fully matched the beats of the blaring song that played on the broken speakers. and god, you looked so pretty like this. hovering over him, a bill sticking out of your bedazzled bra.

nanami gruffly grunts, feeling his hefty base stick and smack against your ass. each thrust into you was so sloppy, so nasty, he was about to get milked. strands of cum stuck against your ass, occasionally departing as you lift yourself up and down, bounce after bounce.

he licks his lips at the thought, the thought of pumping his entire load into you raw.

“should have came here a l- long time ago,” he confessed, starting to come to the sheer realization that maybe satoru did him a favor. recommending him to one of the top strip clubs in the city. if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t be here right now. he wouldn’t be inside, inside of you, stirring and churning up your insides like butter. “fuck, ‘m gonna c- cum, baby. think ‘m gonna cum.”

leaning up against his ear, you slowly lick a stripe near his neck. “it’s okay, you can shoot inside.”

your words made him hard - harder than he already was.

you felt the sporadic twitch of his cock inside of your goopy cunt the moment you whine your last pre-orgasm words. nanami’s panting heavily, two bare hands gripped onto your waist like velcro. the room started to get cooler and he sighs deeply. “r- really?” he huffs, taken aback. he leaned into your touch, feeling your ass continue to throw itself back forward into him.

each time, every single time,

it makes his ears ring, his teeth shatter, his mouth growing ajar.

nodding, you kiss near his chin, a few blond strands from his stubble gliding against your lips. “yeah, give it to me kento. don’t miss, ‘s okay, promise.”

“o- okay, ‘m not gonna miss, princess,” he swallows thickly. his thighs ached from underneath you. nanami literally couldn’t keep his hands off you. with the stumpy tips of his fingers gently digging into your waist, he groans.

it’s raspy, sloppy thrusts rut back onto him, ricocheting against his skin before within seconds, he came.

nanami’s brain short circuits as he’s emitting another thick load - this time, inside of you.

it’s gooey, sticky and hot, oozing into the very depths of your cunt, dribbling all from the inside. it shoots way up into your womb and you moan, gently biting into his neck. your teeth pierce into him skin softly and he grunts. “good girl, g-good,” he croaks, feeling your body weakly judder into him at full force. he’s short circuiting, feeling such amounts trickle into your sopping pussy. it’s so much that a few of it starts to pour near the sides of your thighs. plugged enough as you were, you suck against his neck in an attempt to suppress your whiney moans. “goddamn, ‘s much. saved so much for you.”

you were so close to him that you felt the numerous beats of his heart pulse against you.

his warmth, nanami wraps a beefy arm around you, pulling you close. still, he’s got his cock buried into your cunt as if it was a coffin, the stretchy clingy grip you’ve got on him has him in a chokehold. a single hand of nanami’s grabs the fat of your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before spanking it.

“you’re getting handsy,” you tease him, peppering a few kisses near the bridge of his nose. if you screw your eyes close enough, you could make out a few tiny freckles scattered across his face. “i think we’re gonna close soon, though.”

“oh r- right,” he swallows, glancing down at his designer quartz watch. in a deep voice, he lets off a throaty chortle and a cheeky expression. “ah, it’s almost midnight,” and he knows he has to pay you. he’d never forget. the man reaches into his dress shirt, pulling out his wallet before letting off a shaky sigh. “how much are your usual dances, princess?”

with a sly expression, you stroke a thumb against his chin, taking in his naturally pretty features. nanami was so handsome, especially up close.

he keeps eye contact with you, still having you stuffed full of inches. “i usually charge around twenty.”

quickly, his voice softens. you gasp once he picks you up bridal style, and he pulls out three sets of hundred dollar bills. the most expensive thing though was his smile, because he was whipped out of his mind. you could tell he wanted more.

“how much to take you home with me then?” and you hear a shuffle, he brings his pants back up to his waistline with one hand before pressing a kiss near your forehead. “i can treat you right. besides, i wanna .. spoil you after tonight,” and his voice remained smooth. “i’ll even give you a nice massage,” and he sticks more money right between your bra, still a jittery shake in his tone.

you watch as nanami still has you in his arms, bringing a thumb toward your shimmery cum-filled cunt before swabbing a nice amount of it onto his finger. with hazed eyes, he licks his thumb right off, savoring the taste before speaking in a seemingly teasing tone, still panting. “i’ve always been pretty good with my hands, sweetheart.”

[akajustmerry]

proclaiming we're in a lesbian music renaissance NOW thanks to artists like Billie Eilish, Chapell Roan, Fletcher, Phoebe Bridgers, Dove Cameron and Renee Rapp is qWHITE interesting to me (dgmw I like those artists but)........... people are acting like Janelle Monae, Victoria Monet, Hayley Kiyoko, Arlo Parks, Halsey, Kehlani, Syd, Dua Saleh, Raveena, Kelela, and even Megan Thee Stallion haven't been CONSISTENTLY making music about loving women and eating pussy for well over a decade. is it only a "sapphic music renaissance" when white lesbians and queer women do it?

[gladiatorcunt]

🍒🍦 ⸺ ᳂ cherry vanilla dr. pepper !!!

cw: afab reader, voyeurism, tashi and you make out while you get pounded, weird amalgamation of dehumanization/objectification/pet play, subby!art coded, spit roasting at the end, slight overstimulation, bizarre orgy vibes, mean dom!tashi to everyone but you <3, implied breeding/creampie kink, canon typical mind games, tashi sits in the cuck chair /j, implied romantic feelings but no mention of established romantic relationships, slight mxm, clit stimulation, one use of “mommy”

happy challengers day 🎾💚

consider commissioning me or leaving me a tip !

“Round 4 will be the last one, alright? Get ready, baby.”

You take deep breaths, clutching onto Patrick’s wrist. You lock eyes with Tashi, feeling syrupy sweet deep in your gut. She grins and unbuttons the top buttons of her shirt, leaving you three to your own devices for now.

The stretch of Patrick’s cock stings and burns a little but Art nipping at your hip bones helps distract you. Patrick pants against the nape of your neck, you feel so divinely tight he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

He keeps his voice low so Tashi can’t hear him, “Fuck-you feel incredible, i’d kill for this pussy, you know that.”

“Hook your arm around their neck, good boy.” Tashi instructs Patrick, leaning back in the hotel chair and palming her pussy at the sight in front of her.

“Yes, ma’am.” He swiftly calls back, acting like he hadn’t said anything to you at all.

Patrick has you in a headlock, pummeling his cock in and out of your pussy with reckless abandon. Art is beneath the two of you, suckling on your clit like it’s a nipple he’s trying to get milk out of. He licks where you’re stretched around Patrick, drawing groans from you both and a chuckle from Tashi.

“Be a good dog and lap them up, okay? I’d hate to have to take away your toy privileges.” She sneers, sliding her damp underwear to the side and stroking her slit.

The “toy” in the equation isn't you.

You’re dead to the world, eyes bulging out of their sockets and nails trying to rip the white sheet to shreds. Your head and tits rock back and forth with Patrick’s thrusts, already on the brink of your fourth orgasm. You try to scream that you can’t take anymore, but you wanna make Tashi proud so you shut up.

“ ‘s so good…” Art hums into your mound, pecking little kisses onto it here and there.

His sounds are muffled but the vibrations send your eyes to the back of your head. The chair in the corner of the room creaks as Tashi gets up, and the second you lift your head and open your eyes, she’s smiling down at you with all the warmth she doesn’t give the men pleasing you. This isn’t about them, it never was.

“Patrick’s so big, Tashi-he’s unggggh-he’s gonna kill me!” You whine, desperately pawing at her clothed breasts.

She coos and pulls her blouse up, bringing your hands to cup her tits and keeping them there, “Baby you know he’s not, this pussy can take a beating. I’d only give you the best toys.”

You nod wordlessly, pouting your lips. She gets the message and claims your lips in a searing kiss, luxuriating in the slick slide of your lips. She loves to make it messy, getting spit all over your mouths and letting it drip on the bed.

Art mewls and flicks your clit, trying to get your attention. You feel bad and try to pull away from Tashi, but she yanks you back into the kiss and bites your lip as a punishment. You hiccup into her mouth, startled when Patrick starts jackhammering into you.

Tashi typically has them alternate, but Art prefere to bury his face between your thighs and Patricks likes to play with fire by cumming inside your sore cunt. He doesn’t speak as much as Art does, but sometimes he holds Tashi stare as you two make out. They’ll have to retire from Tashi’s “employment” eventually, and they’ll be taking you with them when they do. All games of keep away end.

Patrick traces letters and shapes on the glistening skin of your sweaty back, sloppy hearts and ‘ I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U ‘ s.

You gasp and wrench yourself back to breathe. Art flattens his tongue and licks broad stripes over your labia. He nuzzles his nose into you, stopping to pant and take in your smell. He may be delusional, but he’s convinced that every part of you is so sweet. He honest to God can’t get enough, he’d lie in a puddle at your feet if you wanted him too.

Sometimes you feel torn when you fall into bed with your lovers. You’re too soft to be like Tashi, but that exact softness is exactly why you can’t handle being away from her for too long. Maybe you’ve fallen under her spell just like all the rest, but she puts her career on the line to prove how special you are.

Patrick pulls you up to rest your back against your chest. You let your head fall onto his shoulder and you moan when he adjusts the angle of his thrusts to rub against your cervix repeatedly. He wasn’t like this when the evening started, Patrick only roughens you up when you’ve been thoroughly run through and can take it with a dopey smile and glazed eyes.

“Keep going, it’s okay- want it-want you.” You cry out to Patrick, reaching down to caress his hip.

He smiles and licks your cheek, complying with your request.

Art grins up at you with his eyes, mouthing ‘That’s my angel, only for us.’ into the flesh of your inner thigh. He moves to Patrick balls and takes them into his mouth, bobbing them up and down with his tongue. Patrick moans as Art laves his balls in saliva. Art lets them fall out of his mouth, curling his tongue around the inches peeking out of your pussy and hollowing his cheeks out.

“Shit! Stop, ‘m gonna cum!” Patrick hisses through his teeth.

He either empties another load into you or he just refuses to cum if your pussy’s not available, period.

“They’re so hungry for it, aren’t they? Well, can he? Can our dog cum inside you, baby?” Tashi tsks, cupping your cheeks and bringing your attention back to her.

“Yes, yes, yes! He can cum inside-please let him cum inside mommy-i need it so bad-wanna be stuffed full with it!” You whimper and arch your back, jutting your tits out.

Tashi laughs and leans down to suck one of your pert nipples into her mouth, bouncing your other breast in her hand. Tears spill from your waterline down to her freshly manicured nails. Art has since gone back to sucking the life out of your clit, and the little wink he sends you doesn’t help you hold back your impending orgasm.

Patrick thrusts a few more times and then you’re cumming in sync. You go brain dead and your body locks up in his arms. You’re out of it for a good few minutes, and when you have full awareness again you see Art kneeling in front of you. He holds his dick out for you to gawk at, slowly pumping himself for your amusement.

Patrick hasn’t pulled out of your pussy but he doesn’t fuck you again, he jostles his hips to find the most comfortable position for his softening cock to plug you up.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He huffs and pushes you back down on all fours.

“You need your mouth taken care of too.” Art whines and squeezes his cock around the base, beckoning you closer with a ‘come hither’ gesture.

Said man is tenderly and carefully bundling up your hair in his arm and casting it aside, giving him ample space on your back to pet. He rubs the pink tip of his cock along your jawline, he gives you a fresh coat of lip gloss via his precum as he slaps your plump lips with his cockhead.

“It’s kinda like sucking off a dildo attached to a mirror, don’t think too hard about it.” Tashi tells you, crouching down to suck the small divot in your back.

She sits back in the cheap black hotel chair, shrugging her blouse off and pinching her nipples.

You moan at the first taste of Art’s cock, longer than Patrick’s but with less heft to it. You peer out of the corner of your eye to see if Tashi’s still watching, and you feel silly when you realize that she always is.

“Doing good, baby, keep it up.”

But that’s the thing, they’re all watching you now. It’s not hard to be a pathetic bottom that needs to be coddled and tended to at all times. It’s never difficult to stroke the fire in someone’s ego, you’ve had an easier job of that than anything else.

You saw them all together on the court, you were there for lessons that didn’t work out. Who knows how long ago, it feels like a lifetime, but all it took was one look to recognize what was destined to be yours. You couldn’t give less of a fuck about Tennis in actuality, but you sure do love the players.

They all have hearts in their eyes as they watch you. Art with his dick deep down your throat, his legs are trembling as he tries to stop himself from fucking your face. Patrick, still making a forever home for himself in your guts, his eyes are so dark you have to repress a shiver. And Tashi, knuckles deep in her pussy, finger fucking herself to the pretty little show her baby puts on with their toys.

When the boys are asleep, you’ll bounce on her ribbed strap until you shatter all over again.

Now, Is it cheating to win a game when people don’t realize that you're playing?

- faetreides 2024. do not repost, translate, or put my works into ai

[sassycolortheorist101-blog]

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

[pinkwright]

happy pride pretty ppl in my phone <3 xxtra love n kisses to my lesbians, thank u 4 helping me discover myself ୨୧

happy pride lgbtq+ palestinians, know that we stand w you and for your liberation today & everyday from now

[rainywhispersblog-deactivated20]

[wandaslittlepsycho]

ʚɞ⋆ brunette!lizzie makes you sit on her lap while she feeds you, ignoring the way you’d squirm and say you didn’t like it.

“why don’t you like it, angel? Because it gets you all worked up doesn’t it?”

ʚɞ⋆ she also picks out your outfits in the morning, watching you prance around in whatever she chooses. she’d pick things so revealing and it made you excited, knowing her eyes would be fixated on you all day.

ʚɞ⋆ whenever she catches you eyeballing something she gets it for you. an expensive necklace to a simple meal that you felt like. she loves to spoil her precious girl

ʚɞ⋆ she would always make you dinner even after a long day of work because she didn’t like the thought of you around fire, knowing how clumsy you are. but when you would attempt to make her little baked treats that wouldn’t turn out well, she still lights up and helps you make another batch

ʚɞ⋆ she’s obsessed with neck kisses. falling asleep on the couch with her watching movies, you’d wake up to her lips pressing gently against your neck, slightly nipping at the sensitive skin

“It’s time to go to bed, bunny. You’ll wake up sore if you sleep here.”

she’s so ahhhhh >///<

[thememedaddy]

[aashwarr]

running errands at target. target shopping center is made by @simkoos. 🎯

[wedarkacademia]

[quintessencewrites]

I'm IronHeart

college student! Riri x college student!fem!black! reader

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-” 

“You only like it when its pretty?”

A smile broke across both your faces, her shiny rows of perfectly white teeth winking at you from between the prettiest brown lips you’d ever seen. “It’s always pretty,” you ran your fingers down her cheeks once more.

Warnings: Angst!!! suggestive tones, no actual smut though (sorry, y'all this one is just a tease), fluff, N-word usage, explicit language, implied cheating, some of y'all might not like how reader and Riri talk to each other, but it's just their dynamic, and I think it's cute (I also like em toxic, though sooo), probably some that I missed.

Word Count: 6.6k

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @shurislover @6-noir @ihearttish @vampzxi @verachii @phantomof-themcu @taiiunknown @sapphicvqmpires @pocketsizedpanther @oceean @venusdraco-deactivated20230701

“Nah, baby, you ain’ listening to me-”

“I’m listenin’, you just wrong-” Riri’s chuckle was deep, her vocal cords vibrating through the smoke clouding her lungs. 

A once-fat blunt sat snug between her index finger and thumb, passing from her parted brown lips to yours, sitting so prettily and plump.

“Well, if you listening, you ain’ hearing me.”

Riri’s free hand was tangled in your curls, tugging at your scalp every so often. The scent of sativa would be embedded in your tresses, coating the bedding beneath you. The two of you were stuck, your highs weighing heavy on your limbs and freezing you in a statuesque space.

 You laid between Riri’s legs, your head against her torso, eyes closed and finger waving at nothing in particular, illustrating your point for your stubborn girl to follow. 

“I’m not tryna hear you, ma-”

It wasn’t a real argument. The two of you were stifling giggles through your disagreement, both trying hard to get your points across. 

“I’m just saying, Ri-”

“Uh huh,” she lulled lazily.

“If she was a good superhero, she wouldn’t have to hide her identity!”

“What if she’s a good superhero because she hides her identity?” Riri countered.

Her rebuttal had you stuck for a moment, your usually quick mind slowed greatly due to your intoxication. 

“No? No, that’s not how that works, Ri-”

“It is-”

“It isn’t! Tony Stark was Iron Man, right?” You were upright at this point, right hand squeezed tight into a fist, punching your open hand to accentuate your statements. “Iron Man was a good superhero, and we knew his identity.”

Riri’s mouth was open, but your words were trampling hers.

“T’Challa didn’t hide that he was The Black Panther-”

“But-”

“And neither did Shuri! She goes to our school for fuck’s sake-”

You were giving her no chance to argue back, your voice climbing octaves each time she tried to speak.

Your chin fit in Riri’s hand like a perfect puzzle and she used it to draw you near her, taking what was left of the barely-there joint and embedding it between your lips. “Shh, baby. You gotta let me talk.”

The prolongtivity of your high redirected your attention and Riri took her chance to make her counter-point, albeit, a pathetic one.

“Spiderman’s a great superhero, and we don’t know his identity.”

Silence was your only response and your eyes darting to the ground brought a slick smirk to your girl’s face.

“You saying Spiderman not a great hero?”

“I ain’ say a thing-”

“Exactly-”

Your snicker came out much louder than you intended, but Riri wasn’t jarred by it. “You gave me one hero to prove your ‘secrecy is better’ bullshit and he’s another one of Tony’s lackeys. I gave you three, one of whom, IronHeart took her identity from to begin with!”

“She ain’ take her identity from nobody-”

“Fine, her “mentor” then,” the air-quotes emphasizing your words were full of sarcasm.

“Her mentor, who inspired her-”

“She was so inspired that she copied the suit, but wanna keep her name a secret?  I just wanna see the little white girl who got a chance with Tony Stark because of daddy’s money.”

Riri’s mouth hung open, shock furrowing her brows and stunting her words. The corners of her mouth twitched, unsure if she should laugh or scowl. Little sounds crept from the back of her throat and they couldn’t come together to form a full sentence. 

Laughter poured from your lips, the expression on her face tickling you greatly. Slight giggles grew to guffaw chuckles, producing an annoyed eye roll from the girl sitting across from you. 

The weight of the bed shifted as she stood, head shaking at your goofy ass. “Not a damn thing funny, y/n.” Riri’s words were stoic, though one look at her face revealed the smile she failed to hide. 

“N-no, no, don’t go, baby. I’m sorry-” the half-assed apology came out in gasps, trying and struggling to catch your breath as your laughter died down.

“No, you not. Gon laugh at me right in my face-” Ri grumbled, walking across the room to retrieve her bag.

You rose to your knees, arms reaching for Riri, feigning her hurt in the corner of your room. “I am, I am, Ri. Come on, you don’t gotta leave-”

She takes a step back toward you, letting your hand enclose around hers while she brought her free one up to her face. LED numbers blared from the watch clapsed on her wrist. “Actually, I do, baby. I was supposed to be gone ten minutes ago.” Riri only had five minutes before her chem class was set to start without her and the quick thought to skip it crossed her mind. 

You were many things, though a mind-reader wasn’t one of them. You could have had Riri fooled, however, with the way your next words mirrored her thoughts.

“Skip it-”

She could- Bast knows how badly she just wanted to get back into bed with you, riding out this high you were experiencing together-

But she wouldn’t.

“I can’t, baby-”

“You can!” Your shoulders jumped slightly with the wince produced from hearing how whiny you sounded.

“I can’t.” Her no was final. “I gotta get a good education-” Ri stepped closer, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. “So I can get a good ass job-” A duplicate kiss landed on your cheek. “And make a lot of money-” And the other cheek. “So I can afford to keep your bougie ass happy.” This time her lips touched yours, softly. 

You wanted so badly to deepen the kiss, to graze your tongue against hers and taste the smokiness off of it. Before you could snake your hands around her neck and pull her down into you, Riri pulled away, causing an annoyed sigh to escape your parted lips. 

“When you coming back?”

Riri’s hand ran across her face, her slender fingers pressing against her temples just slightly. “Um, probably late tonight. I got statistics after chemistry and we got an exam tomorrow so I need to study without any distractions.” She looks pointedly at you when ‘distractions’ falls from her mouth. 

Your eyes are suddenly drawn to the carpet beneath her planted feet, not trying to hear her go on again about her failed physics test a few weeks ago. “Haines let you make it up though and you passed the second time-”

Mhm, she hums quietly. “Just lemme get your spare, in case you sleep when I get here.”

Still avoiding eye contact, you point to your messy desk on the other side of the room and Riri strides over to it to retrieve the key before heading to your door. Her five minutes have long gone and she’s going to have to sprint across campus to make it to class, a task she’s not looking forward to. 

“No goodbye kiss?” You question in a final attempt to change her mind.

It doesn’t work. “Mwah,” Ri’s lips pucker in your direction and just as quickly as it opened, the heavy door shuts behind her. 

Too many hours have passed. Your eyelids grew heavy not too long after Riri had left and what you’d promised yourself would be “just a quick nap,” turned into you peering back into the world nearly five hours later.

“Shit,” you mumbled under your breath, sitting up slowly with the ache of sore muscles almost pulling you down once more. 

The sky beyond your open window was dark, a deep pitch-black coating everything in its cloak. Classes had ended long ago and Riri was probably holed up in her room, her nose buried in a book as thick as she. 

When her tiny frame took place in the seat across from you in the cafe the next morning, it did so with a thud full of exhaustion.

Her head stayed down, her eyes cast on the croissant untouched before her. 

“Fuck wrong with you?” You questioned, elbows pressing into the table, through a mouthful of fruit. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“What happened to starting a sentence with ‘good morning’”? Her face rose slowly and it didn’t take you long to notice the imperfection running across her otherwise perfect skin. 

It was long, stretching from her left cheek, across the bridge of her nose and stopping just short of her right eye. The thin mark had already begun to scab over but it’s undertones were a deep red and the damn thing looked painful. 

Panic was your first reaction, your hand darting out to imbed your index finger and thumb into her cheeks and draw her face closer. “What the fuck happened to you?” You turned her head every which way, inspecting the mark with careful eyes. 

Riri was silent. 

“Hello? Riana Williams-”

“You don’t gotta use my government-”

“What the hell happened to you? You said you was gonna hit the books, you ain’t say they was gonna hit you back.”

The tiny smile that played across her lips softened your heart just a bit. “You think you funny?”

“No, but you do.” Your hand dropped from her face, finally releasing her from your hold. “What did you do?”

Riri’s mouth opened, but the words didn’t want to come out. She fumbled about them, pausing for a moment before a sigh was the only thing she could respond with. 

“Nothing, baby. Just a little accident in the garage-”

“Garage? When was you in the garage, Ri? I thought you was gonna go to class and study-”

“And I did,” her hands reach across the table to grab both of yours, bringing them to her lips for a brief kiss. “Went to make some alterations to a project for my metallurgy class. Fell asleep there last night.”

“Okay, but even so, you know to be careful, Riana-”

“You gon stop calling me-”

“You gon stop fucking up my pretty face-” 

“You only like it when its pretty?”

A smile broke across both your faces, her shiny rows of perfectly white teeth winking at you from between the prettiest brown lips you’d ever seen. “It’s always pretty,” you ran your fingers down her cheeks once more.

She catches the palm of your hand with her lips in a quick kiss before rising to her feet. “We hanging after class?”

You’re peering up at her with pretty brown eyes, so round, so full of life they sparkle. “You got time for me with all the studying you got to do?”

Her gaze scans the watch that never leaves her wrist, pretending to analyze it for a moment before responding. “I can pencil you in. 6?”

“Oh you can pencil me in?” Laughter rings through your words, flowing straight to Riri’s ears, mimicking your actions. “Get your goofy ass gone.”

“Love you,” Her lips touch your forehead much too quickly for your liking before her steps retreat and the sway of her hips hypnotize you as she leaves.

The day goes by too fucking slowly, the little hands on the clock barely moving, as though to tease you. Each class drags on and on and on, until the sun finally sets on the horizon, threatening to bring the day to an end. 

The time had rounded out well past 6. 

“If you gon cancel on me, at least have the decency to say so-” The phone sat balanced between your cheek and shoulder, keeping the receiver close to your ear as you moved about your room, trashing the rose petals that littered your sheets and stashing the already wrapped blunts on your bedside table. 

“We gon work on your greetings, baby.” Riri spoke, voice deep and stuffy.

“Riri, cut the shit. Where you at and why it ain’t my bed?”

“Because I’m in my bed, baby.” She sniffled, throat thick.

“Why? And why you sound like that?”

“Like what?”

“You sound gross.” 

“Damn, thanks. I ain’ feeling good-”

“Probably cuz you slept in that cold ass garage last night instead of next to me where you was supposed to be-.”

Riri paused, allowing your sarcasm to cut her sentence straight down the middle. “I’m gonna just kick it here tonight, baby.”

You’d be lying had you said you weren’t upset. Riri had been around you sick more times than you could count; this time didn’t have to be any different. “A’ight, well, want me to bring you something? Soup or some shit? We can just chill in bed with a movie? I can hold you-”

This time it was Ri who cut you off. “I’m good, baby. I’ll just rest tonight and we can make it up tomorrow.”

The swiftness with which she rejected you stung, along with the tears forming behind your lids. “Okay,” you answered bluntly.

Riri could hear the hurt in your voice, wanting to alleviate it just as she’d caused it, but she pressed onward. 

“Okay, baby. Love you.”

She hadn’t even given you time to repeat the words of affection before she’d hung up.

The more minutes that passed, the more time angry thoughts had to stir in your mind. Moving from your couch to your bed to your desk chair wasn’t enough to calm your maddened nerves. Your feet continued to shuffle, though they brought you nowhere. 

Riri was pulling away, acting all funny and shit. Maybe it was the stress of school, the end of the academic year nearing, finals looming over your heads. You could imagine her, sickly and snotty, buried beneath a stack of textbooks. 

Your hands worked quicker than your mind had the time to process. The only remedy food you had was the canned crap, but it would have to do. Keys in one hand and can in the other, you trekked into the night. 

She’d feel some type away about you interrupting her studying; maybe be slightly annoyed by your risk to her germs, but there wasn’t a single fiber in you that cared. 

The night air was warm and damp, the walk to her dorm a rather short one. 

One quick knock, followed with silence. Riri’s door remained shut, without a sound on the other end. Another knock, then one more before you grew impatient. “Ugh, I got that damn key somewhere-” The keys on your ring jingled too loudly in the quiet hall. There were too many keys, all similar shapes and most not having a lock to open.

You tried one and failed. Your girl was a hard sleeper; it was no surprise that she didn’t stir to let you in if she wasn’t awake. Another key was inserted into the lock carefully, and that too failed.

“Shit-”

The wooden door rattled beneath your knocks, attempting once more to pry it open with a different key. Your sigh of relief echoed off the still walls when the key turned and the lock clicked. 

You entered the room slowly, not wanting the light from the hall to wake your sleeping girl in her dark space. On the tips of your toes and with the gentlest fingers, you shut the door behind you until its hinges locked in place and the darkness in the room swallowed you once more. 

Shoes at the door and keys beside them, you turned to look about the room, expecting to see Ri hunched over her desk with drool falling from her lips or in her bed, covers drawn over her head. 

To say you were surprised to see neither was an understatement. Her desk sat clean and bare, her bed unmade but untouched. 

Bathroom; she’s gotta be in the bathroom.

You walked toward the door, gathering your weight on the knob until it gave way. It was dark, empty. 

Riri was nowhere to be found in the small space. Several thoughts ran through your mind and none of them made sense. 

Maybe she went to get food? Your phone illuminated the dim dorm and the line trilled, over and over and over again before it was the voicemail that greeted you and not Riri’s voice. 

Maybe she went for a walk? Again, the line rang and rang and rang, and again, there was no answer. 

Maybe she went to get meds? The line didn’t even ring anymore; each call was answered by an automated voice messaging system.

60 minutes passed with you seated on Riri’s bed, full of worry. 

90 minutes passed and you shifted from the bed to the loveseat with worry turned to anger.

Two and a half hours later and sleep began to weigh heavy on your lids as you sat behind her desk.

Three hours later, you got up and walked out of her room, leaving behind the unopened can of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and the spare key to her dorm. 

Your sleep was restless, interrupted by frequent glances at your phone screen, expecting, hoping for a missed call from Riri. Hell, even a text would have sufficed. 

There was nothing. 

Worry swept through you once more, seated at the same table the two of you met at each and every day, alone. 

Should you go to the police? Or campus security? Maybe the dean-

The chair across from you slid away from the table with an awful scraping noise as metal kissed metal and in plopped Riri.

Her hands held a heavy plate, balanced with toast and eggs, bacon and fruit. There was more food than there was Riri to consume it, but she dug in as though she hadn’t tasted food in weeks. 

You couldn’t help the look of bewilderment that you were sure posed itself upon your face. There was no way that was really Riri; it had to be a mirage or a hallucination. You must’ve been losing your mind. You had to be.

She finally looked up, eyes wide and mouth full. “You want some?” Riri gestured to the plate sitting in front of her, half its contents already in her stomach.

An ugly scoff crept from the back of your throat and she reeled back, just slightly. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Your neck jumped forward, your curls falling from the top of your head as it cocked to the side. “Nigga, are you forreal right now?” your voice was low, words hissing out between your clenched jaw.

Her sculpted brows furrowed at the center, a deep frown taking place on her cheeks. “What’s your problem, ma?”

The anger that boiled within you almost escaped in a growl, teeth barren at the oblivious girl before you. “Riri, where the hell were you last night?”

“What?” she asked through a bacon-stuffed mouth. “I was in my room, baby. I already told you I would be there-”

You almost jumped across the table at her. She gon sit there and lie to your face? That’s what we were doing now?

“Riana Goddamn Williams-”

“Ion like hearing my name come out your mouth like that-”

“I don’t give much of a fuck what you like right now, Riri. It’s taking everything in me to not fuck you up- Where were you?”

“I was in my room-”

“Was you in your room when I came by? Hm? Cuz I couldn’t find you. You invented invisibility or some shit?”

The hand holding toast stopped just short of her lips as your words sank in. “You came by?”

If it were even possible, your face contorted further, anger, no, fucking rage had you vibrating like the phone she didn’t answer. “You didn’t even notice? The can of soup I brought to nurse your lying ass back to health? The key I fucking left? I was there for three fucking hours, Ri-”

Riri’s eyes flashed. “You left your key?”

You ignored her. “The dozens of calls I left you? You ain’ notice none of that shit?”

“Calls?” She dropped the food back onto her plate, hands patting at the pockets on her jeans. “Phone, where’s my phone?”

“Wow,” her actions pulled forth a deep hurt. She hadn’t even noticed.

“Baby, I-”

The deep sound of a throat clearing stole your attention away from each other and to the curly-haired girl standing just short of where you were seated. 

Shuri Udaku.

She looked uncomfortable, lips tucked between her teeth, hand held out toward Riri awkwardly. “Um, my bad. I don’t mean to interrupt-” She stumbled over her words, her soft voice barely loud enough to be heard over the buzz of the crowded cafeteria. “Riri, you, uh, left this last night-”

If looks could kill, Riri would be six feet under and then some. The slow turn of your head back in her direction was scorching, your glare burning a hole so deep into her skull, she winced. You watched her carefully retrieve whatever was in the girl’s hand, moving slowly, as if moving too quickly would cause the thing to ignite. 

It was her phone, screen cracked. The wallpaper displayed a broken image of you and your lover, one where your lips were locked together, now fractured straight down the center, separating the two of you and confining your still images on separate sides of the screen. 

The sound that came from you was drawn from deep, and pooled with pain. Your mouth hung open, stuck in the position as words struggled to come together and form a sentence. 

Riri’s hands flew in front of her, as if they could be a shield from your fury. “I-in the garage, right Shuri?” She turned to the Panther, still standing there with a look of pure confusion written across her face. 

“W-we was just in the garage, baby-”

No more. You didn’t want to hear anymore. Standing to your feet was an uneasy task, your legs wobbling beneath you, threatening to give out. In a swift motion, your bag was swung over your shoulder and through blurred vision, you let your feet guide you to the exit.

“Y/n-” Riri called out, moving as though she were about to follow you. A large hand rested on her shoulder, holding her back and pulling her away. “Ri, we gotta go-”

A day full of missed classes and tears with ugly cries and snot and sobs that wrecked your body from the inside out. 

Two days full of missed calls and so many unread texts that you’d lost count. Your blankets smelled like her, so you slept on the floor in a jacket. Her hoodie, her favorite hoodie laid across your desk chair, untouched. Her shoes sat beside your door, her toothbrush in your bathroom. The very dorm room you couldn’t pull yourself from reminded you so much of the one you didn’t want to remember.

Three days before sadness turned to anger, unadulterated fucking fury. Her favorite hoodie was nothing more than shreds of thick fabric, scissors thrown on the floor beside them. Her shoes drawn all over with your mascara brush, filled with vegetable oil, with awkward holes from the scissors made into their design as well. Her toothbrush had taken a swim in the toilet, then outside across the carpeted hallway before being thrown back into the toilet.

You’d reached that point of grief where sleep was a thing that no longer existed. The clock above your door read just past 3am and you had yet to close your eyes and rest. The shoes beside the door caught your eye again, along with the pieces scattered across the room that you’d cut out of them.

There was always a chance that Riri was awake right now… She’d want her shit back eventually-

You didn’t sit long enough to talk yourself out of the idea, instead gathering all of her now-destroyed belongings into a grocery bag and heading for the door.

The walk from your dorm to hers was instinctual, your footsteps falling into the same pattern they’d taken every night for the past two years. You stood in front of her door, arms by your side, thoughts racing. You’d returned your key, and hadn’t made a copy, and if you knocked, your ‘surprise’ would be ruined.

You started to turn away, doubt beginning to pool your mind. Maybe you should just go- 

Something in you told you to just try, to push on the door handle and see if it opened beforeheading home and admitting defeat.

Riri was smarter than that, so you thought. She wasn’t gonna be sitting in her room, this time of night, with the damn door unlocked-

The poor girl had truly been slacking, because the heavy door gave way, creaking quietly as you stepped into the dark space. 

Her room was pitch black and undisturbed, so quiet that the sound of you closing it seemed to have echoed.

You looked about the room, eyes searching for Riri. A deep, disgusting feeling settled in the pit of your stomach when you thought that maybe she wasn’t there. Maybe she was with the Princess, laid up in her bed the same way she used to lay in yours-

A low, breathy sigh floated through the air from the bed in the corner of the room and you stared for a moment, allowing your eyes to adjust to the darkness. There, in her bed, was a large figure. It’s chest rose and fell with each silent breath, inhaling and exhaling to its own rhythm.

You were truly tired of being angry, though it truly angered you, seeing her be able to rest so easily, so peacefully, while sleep, or peace, or fucking stillness refused to visit you, leaving you up, sick and anxious over feelings she’d caused-

You hadn’t realized your feet drawing you closer to Riri’s bed until you were nearly beside it. A foot hung over the side of the mattress, but it was large. Too large to be Riri’s, the petite girl only wore a size 7-

The same could be said for the arm that had escaped the blanket. It was thick and- red? The material held a reflection, though there was no light present in the room.

What the hell-?

The thought couldn’t even be completed in your mind. You stepped beside the bed, fully taking in the monster taking your Riri’s place. This was some red riding hood and the wolf disguised as granny shit-

Your eyes traveled slowly, up and around, soaking up every bit of unfamiliarity before you, from the blackened hand with a crucified pit in the palm to the black emblem in the center of the chest, outlining a glowing blue “V”. You squinted, mind racing. You’d seen that crest before, but where?

The further north your vision moved, the harder your heart thumped behind your chest. The scarlet metal continued upward, protecting it’s wearer’s throat, and scalp, leaving an opening across the face where a mask would be-

But there is no mask.

Your hand flies to your mouth to conceal the scream that almost climbs from your bosom. Those eyes, you know those eyes, shaped like almonds, so dark and wise, shut behind the smoothest lids and prettiest lashes. 

You knew that nose, the one you glued your lips to so often, just to watch it scrunch up, an accessory to that smile, behind those lips you knew so well. The feel of them, their shape. You could map out every indent, every wrinkle on those precious lips. 

It was a hard sight to take in in silence, peering down on Riri’s face as though she lay in a coffin. She was so still, so silent, that had it not been for the rise and fall of her chest, you wouldn’t have been sure she was alive.

Your eyes fell to the symbol on her chest once more, mind trying so hard to place it. You knew that symbol, you knew you knew that symbol, but where-

Images of IronHeart flashed through your mind without permission.

IronHeart, who had a whole YouTube channel dedicated to sightings of her.

IronHeart, who almost always fought alongside The Black Panther- Shuri.

IronHeart, the little white girl who’d gotten a chance with Tony Stark because of daddy’s money.

IronHeart, who was your Riri.

You could feel your breath catch in your throat as the pieces fell into place.

You needed to go. You stumbled backwards, steps failing you, hand still drawn over your mouth as bile threatened to make its way up. The room was suddenly too small, the hallway was too small, the damn building was too small. 

The air outside was warm, and the gasp you inhaled was quickly followed by a sob that emptied your lungs of the air you’d just blessed them with. 

You didn’t know how, but your feet were moving, bringing you back to the solitude of your own room and finally failing you when you reached your door. It would have been a pathetic sight to see, you on all fours, sobbing loudly, face drenched as you crawled through your front door and shut it again behind you. 

Your back slammed against the heavy oak, your knees bending until your thighs met your chest. The sounds that were coming from your mouth were ugly, the tears bulbous. 

My God, My God. She had been lying to you. For months, for years, maybe longer? You weren’t worthy enough to share her secret, not trusted enough to know her identity, to take part in her double life. 

There were too many fucking thoughts and it was too fucking late at night, and the tears in your eyes and exhaustion in your muscles did nothing to keep you awake long enough to battle those feelings. Sleep took you under, quickly and stealthily, not even giving you a chance to make it to the bed first.

And yet, somehow, you awoke in your bed, the blanket drawn to your chin and the smell of Riri embedded in it bringing you a slight comfort.

Then memories of the night came flooding back and though your body begged you to do nothing more than remain horizontal, your mind shot you straight up. The room was bright, the sun already raised high in the sky and you couldn’t fathom what time of day it must’ve been.

What was left of the heart beating in your chest was already aching. It nearly beat right out of your body when a voice sounded off from across the room.

“Good morning.”

Her voice was low, deeper than usual, and coated in anything but pleasantries. Riri sat at your desk, dressed in all black, her signature gold chain adorning her neck, and her straight-back cornrows collected into a bun at her nape. 

So many emotions ran through you at once. Fear and desire, but the one that stood out, the one that had been most prominent these days, was rage. 

And it showed. Riri saw it immediately in your face, with the way your brows drew together and the corner of your mouth curled into a snarl. Your nose scrunched and your glare burned. 

She could hear it in your words, your vocal cords tight, your voice sounding unlike yourself. “Get out-”

Riri’s sigh drew another emotion forth from you: annoyance. “When somebody says ‘good morning’, you’d typically say it back-”

Your feet hit the floor with a thud, and your restraint was a God-given thing. “Get out my room, Riri-”

The small girl stood as well, hands deep in her pockets. “Nah.”

An insincere chuckle escaped your lips, masking the disbelief that jumped out of you. “Nah? Fuck you mean ‘nah’, nigga-”

The space separating the two of you was barely a few feet and Riri closed it in no time. “Sit down, y/n-”

“I don’t take orders from you no more, Riri-”

“Sit down!” Her voice never changed octaves, but the firmness in her tone left no room for argument. You didn’t want to turn your back to her to climb back upon your lofted bed, instead trying (and failing) to hop on backwards.

Riri couldn’t sit and watch you struggle; her hands fell into place at your hips like they had so many times before and you pushed them off quickly, trying to remove them as if they burned. “Get your hands off-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Riri had you in the air and seated on your mattress. “Just accept the help, damn.”

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the two of you, you upon the bed, arms crossed, and Riri, pacing the room, hands rubbing the back of her neck.

“You know; I know you know.”

“Know what?”

Riri pauses her stride long enough to look at you with a sad smile. “C’mon, baby, you ain’t never been stupid.”

The tears that collect behind your eyes are traitors and you tilt your head back, staring at the ceiling and willing them back from which they came. “Yeah, Ri. I know.”

“You came by last night?”

“I came by last night.”

“Destroyed my shit?”

“You deserved it.”

When you brought your vision back on the girl standing across from you, the tears finally betrayed you. They ran over your lids silently, no sobs this time, no snot. 

Riri could only stare back, tears of her own threatening to swell and run over. 

“So you the little white girl with daddy’s money?”

Your words caught Ri off guard, an gross-sounding snort came from the back of her throat before the tears finally spilled and her hands flew to her face to catch them. “You know ain’ nothing in that statement true-”

“But you let me say it. You let me sit here looking stupid while you knew what was true and I didn’t-”

“How was I supposed to tell you, baby?”

“How bout, ‘Y/n, I’m IronHeart?’”

Silence took place between the two of you for a moment before Riri cleared her throat.

“Y/n, I’m Ironheart.” Riri’s voice trailed off and her hands flew to her face, catching the assortment of pillows you’d just chucked at her in retaliation.

“Nigga, you not fucking funny!”

“You right, you right, ma. My bad.” Riri tossed the pillows to the floor, taking baby steps forward, until the space between you was closed and your body was trapped by her forearms sinking into the mattress on either side of you and her head falling into your lap. 

You couldn’t help the hand that rose in response or the gentleness with which your fingers traced the parts between her braids. “How long?” 

“How long-?” Riri trailed off, not understanding the half-asked question you were presenting her with.

“How long you been a fucking superhero, Ri?” 

Her head sunk further into your thighs, as if she were trying to hide and you knew you wouldn’t like the answer.

“Only ‘bout six months-”

“Six months,” you repeated.

Mhm, she hummed back. “Six months. Had the suit built for a while, just to see if I could build it, but it was nothing like the one I got now-”

“Where that one come from? Your Princess get it for you?”

Her head rose quickly, furrowed gaze falling in line with yours. “My what? Shuri?”

Had your eyes rolled any harder, they would have rolled right out your head.

Riri’s shook back and forth, her chain swaying in response. “Nah, ma. I ain’ never step out on you; you know it ain’ even like that. Shuri’s my nigga.” She stood just a bit straighter, bringing your faces together and resting her forehead on yours. “You my Princess.”

The anger that still resided within you told you to just push her away.

But you didn’t. You let your eyes close and a sweet sigh escape your lips. “But you been lying to me.”

“I have-”

“For six months-”

“A secret identity a secret for a reason, baby-”

“But Shuri knew-”

Riri was standing at her full height, though it was still just a tab bit shorter than you. “Stop, baby, that ain’ the same thing! Shuri got this shit running through her veins; she can protect herself and her own if somebody pose a threat. She got a whole goddamn army behind her, y/n!”

“So-”

The way her eyebrow jumped to the top of her face, the way her eyes darkened and her scowl deepened, told you to shut the fuck up.

“Nah, y/n, lemme finish” her words were accentuated with a growl. “I’m new to this, baby, like hella new. All I got is a suit and a big brain. I couldn’t save myself when my vibranium detector got my ass into trouble; how the hell am I supposed to save you?”

For the first time in your life, you sat silent.

“Iron Man could afford to make his identity known; so can Shuri, and so could her brother. I can’t, baby, not yet. I got something to lose-”

“You don’t got to announce it to the world, Riri, but you could’ve told me!”

“I couldn’t at the time, baby.” Her words are softer, her voice much softer. You feel her hands grab at your waist, pulling you close and holding tight, as if you’d disappear if she were to let go. “You don’t know how to not be in control-”

“Bitch-”

The small chuckle Riri releases makes your toes curl, just slightly. “Lemme finish, ma. You don’t know how to not be in control, and if your little ass saw I was in any sort of trouble, you’d rush in to play ‘Captain Save-the-Day’.”

You couldn’t help the pout that played at your lips. She was right, but she ain’ had to say all that. “So?”

“So?” Riri gripped at your skin harder, her fingers sinking into the suppleness of your curves. “Y/n, baby, you got the big brain, but you don’t got the suit. Don’t got the army, don’t got this shit running in your blood.” Her voice gets tight again, her eyes locked in on yours. “I need you to hear me, y/n, forreal, when I say this shit, okay?”

She doesn’t get a response from you and frustration is fueling her movements. Her hand flies to your chin, gripping it hard and pulling your gaze firmly onto hers. “I need you to listen, y/n. You listening, baby?”

“I’m listening-”

“I don’t need you to save me. Ion need you running in after me, or nothing-”

“Ri-”

Her fingers are pressing into your side hard enough to leave indents now, and her hand has shifted from your chin to your cheeks as she sinks her thumb and index finger into either side. “Listen.” Riri’s voice is full of venom, emphasizing the seriousness of which you know she’s speaking. Your lips press together and all you can do in response is nod.

“I do not need you trying to save me,” each syllable is emphasized through her clenched teeth. “I got this-let me save the world, and you, okay?”

“What am I supposed to do, Ri? Watch you get beat around, wait for you to come back to me all bruised and battered?” your eyes travel to the remnants of the scar that snakes along her face. 

“Be my number one fan?” Riri’s voice rises with a slight tease. “Cheer me on, baby.”

“Go, Ri, go!” sarcasm is dripping through your cheer, but the smile on your face is genuine and it pulls forth an equally sincere one on Riri’s face.

Riri’s lips roll back, getting trapped between her pretty teeth, her smile threatening to break through wider. 

Hmm, she hums, eyes scanning your face. “I think I like how that sounds.”

[accras]

Lashana Lynch out and about | Cannes Festival 2022

[imjusthere2readbruv-deactivated]

Gahdamn…