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#and he disrespects his teammates
akuasucc · 1 month
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also neymar is a bitch. u cant convice me hes a good person
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overtake · 5 months
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deceased at the implication that lewis was so deeply hurt by max’s dumb secret santa gift to valterri one year that he refuses to participate in the videos as a staunch moral stance. max lives rent free in these people’s heads so badly that they have to write fanfiction that frames lewis as some heroic protector of bottas to cope with him … just not wanting to do something he doesn’t have to do? save lewis from his own fans, man.
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f1-obsessed333 · 2 years
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Not only is Daniel struggling on track and has a car that breaks down every two seconds, but Max just came out and said that Checo is the best teammate he’s ever had relationship wise.
Damm it’s brutal out here 😭
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reiderwriter · 2 months
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Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3
(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon
A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡
Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.
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The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar. 
You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team. 
A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one. 
You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance. 
“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips. 
“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.” 
The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals. 
“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.” 
Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat. 
He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses. 
“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.” 
That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware. 
Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling. 
“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.” 
The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely. 
All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief. 
He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip. 
You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity. 
Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much. 
Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place. 
“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax. 
“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door. 
“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.
“My… my what?” 
“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”
“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips. 
Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures. 
“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?” 
“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.” 
He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace. 
Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that. 
He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after. 
When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things. 
You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location. 
You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation. 
You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places. 
So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating. 
You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds. 
You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night. 
It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there. 
Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones. 
You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case. 
“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs. 
“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.” 
You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction. 
Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch. 
Or a pedestrian. 
The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights. 
“We're here.” 
“Great. Let me walk you in.” 
In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment. 
“Okay.” 
Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.
“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him. 
“About what, Y/N?” 
He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow? 
You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you. 
“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible. 
“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-” 
You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you. 
“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it. 
“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?” 
His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly. 
Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered. 
“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.” 
Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours. 
He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.   
“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust. 
“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there. 
“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that. 
Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture. 
“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?” 
“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”
“Good girl.” 
He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you. 
You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically. 
“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.” 
Your mouth fell open as you registered his words. 
“You're being an ass.” 
“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”
“Spencer!”
“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”
His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still. 
“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”
You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip. 
“Yes, Spencer.”
“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”
He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly. 
By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you. 
He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal. 
“No clothes, Y/N.” 
“I know.”
“Underwear is clothing.” 
“I know that, too, Spencer.”
“Then take it off.” 
You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor. 
“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties. 
“I also said no clothes.” 
“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”
His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way. 
He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets. 
You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back. 
“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand  guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you. 
“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers. 
“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?” 
“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.” 
He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him. 
“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely. 
You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you. 
“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.” 
When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched. 
“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips. 
You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could. 
“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.” 
You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant. 
You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night. 
Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat. 
His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations. 
“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust. 
“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.” 
His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick. 
You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted. 
“Fuck, Spencer.” 
“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”
With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body. 
You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you. 
The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose. 
You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in. 
Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space. 
“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep. 
“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.
“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.” 
“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth. 
But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh. 
“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom. 
“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.” 
“I know, I'm going to stay.”
“In the bath?” 
“In the bath.” 
“Good.”
And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept. 
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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price
[MASTERLIST]
Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...
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John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you. 
Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”
However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…
More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…
And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants… 
He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6. 
There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.
His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you. 
He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.
He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.
But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.
So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…
You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain… 
It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.
As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.
Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.
You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.
They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.
“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.
“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.
“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.
You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.
You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.
“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen. 
A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.
Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”
Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you. 
“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it. 
It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.
“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call. 
“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.
“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.
“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.
Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.
“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.
“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.
Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.
“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”
“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.
“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.
“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.
It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.
“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.
“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.
“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.
After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.
The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.
“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.
“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.
“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant. 
“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.
“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.
“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.
Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.
The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”
“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.
“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.
“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.
He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…
So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?
Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.
Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.
“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.
The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…
So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?
He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.
“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.
You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…
His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.
“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.
A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.
“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.
“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.
The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?
Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.
“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.
“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”
[MASTERLIST]
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extra: 500 words-ish
The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen…  “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.
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satorusdiary · 1 year
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Dating basketball player Eren jaeger.
Basketball player! Eren who has a necklace with your initials, filled with small diamond jewels. Not only that but you have a necklace that his initials, just so everyone knew who was yours.
Basketball player! Eren who doesn’t go to parties, which is unusual since he was the one who would attend all parties that was happening with his friends. Instead, he’s in his dorm room with you in his bed watching some scary movie you begged him to play for what it seemed like forever.
Basketball player! Eren who drives the both of you to his practices. Every day or night, whenever he has practices your coming along for sure. Just so he could see your cute smile sitting on the bleachers, whilst watching him practice to make you proud.
Basketball player! Eren who makes out with you in the hallways infront of anyone who has a crush on him. Just so he could prove to them that he’s only yours.
Basketball player! Eren who looks out for you in the crowd during a game when he makes a shot. Shooting a wink at your direction along with a cute bright smile. He always notices whenever you blow a kiss his way.
Basketball player! Eren who won’t stop bragging about you to his teammates! Whether it would be in the locker room, or in the court while their practicing for their upcoming game.
“Bro, i’m being serious. Y/N is a fucking angel. I love her soo fucking much, did you see how cute she was in my jersey?” Eren rants to his friends, being half naked with a towel covering his bottom half.
Reiner rolls his eyes, and sighs.
“yes eren, i think we know how lucky you are to have a hot girlfriend with an ass.” Reiner blurts out the last part, on accident. Now his eyes are wide.
Eren glares at Reiner.
“I know she’s hot Reiner. But if you stare at her like that i’ll fucking pull up to your neighborhood at three am, i’m not playin’ around.” Eren grunts, slamming his locker closed, sending a strong push of wind towards Reiner who watches his friend leave the locker room pissed off.
Basketball player! Eren who walks you to your classes. Always having an arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to him, not letting any male besides the guys he’s cool with close to you. After you both make it to your class, he kisses your forehead and your lips waving you goodbye and to have a good class.
Basketball player! Eren who has you on his lap whenever he does attend a party. Most likely he would go if you wanted to go. He’s sitting on a chair beside the pool whilst interacting with his friends, and teammates going over the next game.
Basketball player! Eren who unfollows any girl who isn’t you. This only happened because you mentioned once about how many girls he was following as a joke.
“Rennie.. why is your following count so low on instagram.” You nervously ask your boyfriend who was sitting on his desk doing his homework.
His hair was out of its bun, freely laying against his shoulders. He looked, utterly focused on his homework that would be due tomorrow.
“Jus felt like it. Why should i follow any other girl when they aren’t my pretty girlfriend?.” His smile gets brighter, sending a heartwarming feeling into your chest. Your lover for him always increasing from his actions.
You grin, walking over and sitting on his lap. Eren chuckles at the amount of kisses your pressing all over his face.
“Mwah! i love you s’muchhh.” You pressed another kiss.
Eren cups your cheek, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.
“I love you more, pretty girl so much more than you know it.
Basketball player! Eren who punches the shit out of any dude who checks you out in front of him. It gets really bad when he needs three of his friends to pull him off of the dude who decided to disrespect you. His girl.
nsfw
Basketball player! Eren who fucks you rough, just because he lost a game for the first time in so long. He has you on all fours, begging him to slow down when his big cock is jamming inside you multiple times. He had one of his hands slither down to your clit to toy with you more, making you arch your back more and cry out his name.
Basketball player! Eren who fucks you against the lockers in the changing rooms after his victory game, just to make one of the players who have a crush on you jealous that Erens the one that’s fucking you. The look on his face never fails to make Eren grin in satisfaction.
His jersey is over you, and is the only thing your wearing while your getting pounded. Your legs wrapped around Erens waist, and him pressing kisses to your cheeks muttering how much he loves you, and how much he would love to have a family with you and marry you.
After that the other player who had a crush on you never showed up to practice ever again.
Basketball player! Eren who gets head from you before a game happens. The both of you are in a small closet, with you on your knees taking Erens cock in your throat as best as you could. Eren, who is standing beside the wall, forcefully thrusting his dick inside your sweet mouth.
Basketball player! Eren who invites you inside his dorm to study, when later on your going to be sitting on his face with his mouth sucking and licking your folds.
Basketball player! Eren who sends the guys who flirt with you a photo of you on your knees giving Eren a blow job. If they manage to piss off Eren more, he ends up sending the boys your guys sex tape just so they would stop flirting with his baby.
Basketball player! Eren who stuffs you full of his cum, and uses your underwear to stop it from leaking out when the both of you are walking bath to a class you both have together. All of your classmates look at you both, noticing how messy you both looked. But they aren’t a stupid, they knew you fucked.
Basketball player! Eren who touches you inappropriately and makes out with you infront of the girls who flirt with him. Never forgetting to introduce you to them, a sad and embarrassed expression playing on their faces as they apologize to you.
“Oh, this is my beautiful girlfriend y/n. Did you she’s going to move in with me once we graduate? Not only that, but did you know she sucked my dick about.. hmm.. 12 minutes ago?” A menacing grin appears on his face.
Basketball player! Eren who cockwarms you whilst you do your homework. It doesn’t take long before you start bouncing on his dick, begging for him to cum inside you.
Basketball player! Eren who takes photos of you filled with his cum, naked with only his jersey on, and on his dick when his cum gets on your whole body. He never fails to keep the photos in his wallet, his binder, and on the mirror in his car.
Basketball player! Eren who always tells you he loves you, and always spills all of his feelings to you whenever you both are having soft, slow, loving sex just for you to feel better whenever you have a bad day.
Basketball player! Eren who makes it clear to anyone who tries interfering with his relationship that you’re his favorite girl. And that you both belong to each other. No bitch is going to ruin that.
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jordyn14 · 2 months
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I’m all yours | Joe Burrow
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Summary: There’s always that one girl you can’t stand, but when they drool all over your boyfriend, it’s impossible to stand by and watch.
Pairing: Joe Burrow x first person fem eader
Words: 2281
Notes: this fic contains smut, 18+ only please // I know this is shorter, but I wanted to get something out. I hope you enjoy!!
“He did so well in the last game though. You did absolutely incredible. It’s a bummer that this season is over.” Britany, a players sister said from the left side of Joe, basically throwing herself onto him for the 100th time tonight. Today, Britany was hosting a little party for all of the players and their close families to celebrate the season. The whole night, Britany was throwing compliment after compliment in Joe’s direction, completely disrespecting the fact that I was his girlfriend of almost 5 years and sitting right across from Joe so I could see it all. Of course the seating arrangement had him sitting right next to her since it was her house.
Ever since the first day she met a joe at training camp last year, she's taken an interest in him, and I mean, who wouldn't? Joe was amazing in almost every aspect of his being. Not only was he stunningly beautiful with his huge muscles, tall frame, amazing hair, and amazing blue eyes, but he was brilliant, talented, kind, charismatic, nerdy, upon many more things. But at the end of the day, the only person that was truly allowed to drool over him was me, not his teammates sister who obviously would be down to fuck him right in front of the whole dinner party. What aggravated me even more was the fact that Joe wasn't saying anything. He didn't ask her to stop or move his arm away from her when she clung to his arm while having another one of her laughing fits at something he said that nobody else found that funny.
All I could do was eat my food, mingle with the rest of the people at the party, and look like I am having an amazing night, all while watching Britany basically fuck my boyfriend right in front of me. I've never been the jealous type. I have always been cool, calm, and collected around every single one of Joes teammates girlfriends or sisters and respected them, but that's because not a single one of them acted the way she has around him. Plus, I have had to watch her do this for months and months while the season was going on since she had a family pass, and I'm so fucking glad that after today, we will be done with her since her brother got traded. At every single team event that allows family, Brittany is always practically stuck to his side. Although the annoyance in Joe’s face and actions towards her are very evident whenever he's near her, it still doesn't mean I want her anywhere near him.
"And I am just so happy that you kept the facial hair, it really looks great on you." Britany said. Joe thanked her awkwardly and took the compliment, but then his gaze shifted to mine, knowing I was pissed off. I could feel that the entire dinner party was a little weirded out at her comment since they all know I am Joes girlfriend. “It was actually my idea. I'm glad you agree with me. I just think it makes him look...so much more desirable, y'know?" I said with a fake smile and laugh when Britany nodded and laughed. After I said this, her smile quickly faded, speechless after I said Joe was desirable. I picked up my fork and stabbed a piece of steak off of my plate and then brought it up to my mouth. While I slowly put the steak in my mouth, I looked at Joe who was shooting bullets at me. Once the steak was in my mouth, I dropped my fork to the plate and glared at Joe too, daring him to look away first and towards Brittany who was obviously changing the subject.
Swallowing the piece of steak in my mouth, My jaw clenched repeatedly over and over again, annoyed by the way he was just letting Brittany drool over him. "Joe, although my brother is leaving for Houston, I would love to hang out sometimes. You can bring your girlfriend too, if you want." Brittany said and then looked at Joe with a wild smile. "Bitch." I said under my breath so nobody could hear it. While still making eye contact with Joe, I took the napkin off of my lap and onto the table next to my plate and stood up. "Excuse me, I'll be right back." I said with a fake smile and stormed off into the bathroom where I could be alone and not see the two of them. For all I know, as soon as I closed the door, Joe bent Britany over the table and started fucking her.
The sight of the two of them angered me so much that I didn't even know what to do with myself. My blood was boiling and all I wanted to do was go home with Joe. Instead, I'm in Britany's bathroom-where she's probably fingered herself to the thought of Joe-pacing back and forth, deciding when or even if I should return back to the dining room where everyone else is. All I could think about was the image of Joe bending Britany over the table and doing exactly what he does to me. I imagined him pleasuring her as much as he pleasures me...when pure ecstasy and adrenaline is pumping through both of our veins. This thought only made me even angrier and made me contemplate whether I should just tell everyone I was sick and that I would call a cab to take me back home.
With my back turned towards the door, I heard the door swing open. Shit, I forgot to lock it. I turned around quickly and basically yelled out an apology, feeling bad that I let someone walk in on me, even if I was just standing there. But, as soon as I turned around, I locked eyes with the one and only Joe burrow. With a roll of my eyes, I let out an annoying sigh that sounded more like a growl and crossed my arms over my chest. "What are you doing in here?" He asked me. I scoffed as he shut and locked the door behind him and put his hands on his hips. "Shouldn't you be out there helping Brittany with her orgasm right now? I mean she was basically cumming right on the chair just by hearing you talk." I said, probably being a little too dramatic, but he still deserved it nonetheless. Joe shook his head and then scoffed.
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Joe asked me. My fists were clenched as I turned towards the mirror instead of him and started to fix my hair, trying to ignore him. So many thoughts ran through my head and I couldn't stay quiet. I quickly turned back to him and walked a step closer to him. "Are you seriously going to stand there and deny the fact that Britany practically drools all over you when she sees you! It's like she doesn't even acknowledge me." I raised my voice and glared at him, not worried about anyone hearing since it was loud enough out there. "Is someone jealous?" Joe asked with a smirk. How was he going to stand in front of me and deny the fact that she was drooling over him? Hell, she's been drooling over him since the first day they met at training camp. The second she saw those bright blue eyes, tall frame, and big muscles, he became like a drug to her.
"What- no, I am not jealous. I'm fucking annoyed. Annoyed at Brittany and the fact that you Don't seem to notice it." I said. He sucked his teeth, making multiple "tsk" sounds and then began walking towards me. Breaking eye contact, I faced the mirror and walked towards it, putting my hands on the edges of the sink. Joe came up behind me with his huge frame and I finally made eye contact with him. Fuck. He was hot. "You don't think I haven't noticed? I see the way she drools over me and ignores your presence." Henry said. We both held each other's gaze in the mirror. "Then why don't you do anything?" I asked. Joe took a step closer to me and said, "Because, 1, as a professional athlete, I'm going to be around people I don't like but have to be around, and 2, you're the only woman in this world I care about. I am yours and nothing can change that." He said.
All of a sudden, he came up close to me that I could feel his huge boner pressing up against my backside. I sucked in a breath but maintained eye contact with Joe who towered over me. "Who do I belong to?" He asked me and began to drag his fingers up my arm and to my shoulder where he moved my hair out of the way. "Me." I said quietly. Joe smiled slightly but then began to kiss my neck, not breaking eye contact. A soft sigh fell from my lips. His lips detached from my neck, leaving me longing for his touch again. A pool formed in my panties and my core ached, wanting- needing- Joe inside of my right now. "What was that?" He asked again, wanting me to say it louder. "You are mine." I said.
As soon as I said this, Joe grinded up against my ass. I practically moaned at the feeling, needing him inside me right now, the desire for him proving to be too much in this moment. "What do you want? Do you want to go back to the party? Or do you want me to fuck you in Brittany's bathroom?" He asked from behind me. As we held each other's gaze, his eyes were clouded with lust and it only turned me on even more. "Fuck me in Brittany's bathroom." I wined out to him. In a matter of seconds, Joe removed his hands from my body and started to work on undoing his belt from his pants. Luckily, I was wearing a skirt, so I just pulled down my panties. When he was done, he got closer to me and I could feel him line himself up with me. "Don't be too loud, now, alright?" Joe asked me. I nodded quickly.
The tip of his dick hit my clit and then slid down to my aching core where he began to slide it up and down my slit. "Please, Joe." I begged. In a matter of seconds, and with a smirk on his face, he thrusted himself into me, not giving me any time to acclimate to his length and girth. A pornographic moan slipped from my lips. No matter how many times we have sex, I still never get used to the size of him. My body tensed up quickly as my walls closed around his dick, making it hard for him to push himself into me. "Calm down, just let me in. Take a deep breath for me." Joe said. I nodded and then quickly took a deep breath. When I finally let him inside of me, he started to pick up the pace, snapping his hips against mine quickly. While Joe began to fuck me, he bent me over the sink and grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled my head back. "Look at me." He grunted as he thrusted into me, his hips hitting mine at a fast pace.
Joe was filling me up and stretching me out so much to the point where it felt impossible to look up at him. But, the pain that filled my body was slowly getting replaced by pleasure, making moan after moan slip out of my parted lips. The grip on my hair got tighter and he lifted my head up even higher. When most of the pain was replaced, I brought my eyes up until we made eye contact. Knowing Joe was watching me and only me while he fucked me and not worried about Brittany only made me want to get fucked harder by him. Joe was mine and not Brittany's. "There's my good girl." He said. He loved to see the way my fucked our face looked. With every snap of his hips, he pulled my hips closer to his so he could plunge into me harder and deeper each time.
"D-don't stop. Fuck." I moaned out as he thrusted into me. Without warning, his other hand was brought down and started rubbing slow and gentle circles into my clit, helping me reach my orgasm faster. Knowing how loud I get when I reach my high, he put his hand over my mouth tightly. With how hard he thrusted into me and the way he rubbed my clit just right, I let go of the knot that was in my stomach, getting pushed over the edge from the pleasure, and my orgasm washed over me in waves. "Joe!" My loud moan was muffled by Joes big hand that was placed tightly over my mouth. My whole body began to shake and my legs folded, but was held up by his strong arms. My eyes were sealed shut and I felt a twitch inside of me, followed by a warm liquid that overflowed and began to drip down my legs.
My legs shook and once I felt Joe pull out of me, I opened my eyes slowly and met his gaze. "Oh wow." I said, breathlessly. Joe’s chest rose and fell quickly, out of breath too while he said, “I’m all yours.”
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revehae · 4 months
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all the rage
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pairing ↠ nerd!mark x (f) reader
genre .. warnings ↠ smut, dubcon, nerd!mark, virgin!mark, coercion/blackmail, unprotected sex, nonconsented recording, oral, implied bimbo!reader
summary ↠ mark is sick and tired of being ignored by you and only being worthful when you need to get your homework done. meanwhile, you don’t hesitate to flash your body to any stupid jock. so, he cooks up the perfect plan - blackmail.
wc ↠ 4.5k
a/n ↠ part 3/5 of the college-capades series!
don’t like it, don’t read.
it was never difficult for mark, or any other student, to conclude whether or not you’d walked into a room. either there would be a crude cacophony of whistles from boys or none too subtle whispers from girls that wrenched their faces in contempt.
mark wanted to give them all, man or woman, a very large, unforgiving piece of his mind. the men that sat there, laughing and smirking amongst themselves, lusting over what should’ve only been his. the women that rolled their eyes and blatantly disrespected you to obscure their own insecurities.
still, you never paid those girls even half the mind they were indebted to you, parading over to a popular athlete it was no secret most girls would sell an arm and a leg for and sitting squarely on his lap. like clockwork, the chosen boys would drape you in a blanket of attention, and you’d do something adjacent to giggling and leaning flush against their chests. whereas mark was left in the corner of the room to sulk and brood, never afforded more than a cute smile and a compliment. the sight of you with other men filled him with unadulterated jealousy and rage.
this week, it was jung jaehyun you were after like a pack of hyenas, the captain of the basketball team. only a couple of weeks before, it was lee jeno, the star player of the hockey team.
it felt as if you were deliberately spreading your legs for anyone that wasn’t mark, making it a point to remind him that he was just a tool in your pocket. he beat his brain out trying to decipher why it was that you’d yet to have given yourself to him. he knew it was not because you were apparently friends. you had fucked anyone from your friends to even your eng lit professsor.
it wasn’t like your qualifications extended only to athletes, and even if they did, mark was literally a member of the basketball team. maybe it was because he was something of a nerd, never not found with his nose in a book, but mark had proven himself more useful to you than any of the undeserving boys you’d given chances to. when he tutored you and let you borrow his notes, all he received was a thank you and a grateful kiss to the cheek. but had anyone else lent you a favor - or even looked at you a certain way - your mouth would fall much, much lower.
today, you’d been clinging to jaehyun, laughing at seemingly every little thing he said. the sight of you together, your bodies so close and jaehyun’s hand at your very exposed thigh, ignited white hot rage within mark, though he willed himself to remain calm. he was clever and that was his advantage. you’d never see his plan coming, and then you would have no choice but to be his.
unbeknownst to you, mark had overheard your conversation with professor kim doyoung the other day, not failing to note that he had a special meeting scheduled with you. you were so busy, like one dick would never be enough for you. as soon as mark knew, he hid a camera in the office, and there was only a matter of time before you fell desperately into his clutches.
that was why when he saw jaehyun in the locker room that day, and overheard his teammates talking about you, mark breathed with more ease and less ire, for the most part tuning out their conversation.
johnny pulled out his phone and called his teammates around to take a look. “look at this fucking bimbo.”
one of them, haechan, grinned mischievously and nudged jaehyun in the side. “yo, you tap that yet, jay?”
jaehyun chuckled, replying, “nah, but she gave me top in the back of my car. took that shit like a champ. she said she’ll let me hit if we win tonight, though.”
jaemin snorted and said, “pfft. i bet she’d fuck you even if we lose. but i know one thing - a slut like that is getting it from somewhere else if she’s waiting that long.”
when mark saw that picture of you on johnny’s phone, everything else became white noise. he was trying not to grow hard at the sight of you, though judging from their dialogue, his fellow teammates were obviously a hell of a lot more shameless. he shoved the thought of jaehyun fucking you out of his brain, only tantalized by thoughts of him and you.
that night, they won. 
you were walking around with a limp to your steps the following day, giddy and carefree. mark could only guess why, but he refused to think of you with anyone that wasn’t him. he was a man on a mission.
when mark approached you, you blinked in surprise, johnny, though shot him an inviting smile. more often than not, you tended to forget he was even there. he was always in his own little world. you greeted, “hi, markie. can i help you?”
mark cleared his throat and realized that he probably should have planned what he was going to say in advance. being so close to you never failed to make his brain slam on the brakes. “i, um, have to show you something.”
you cocked a brow. “like what?”
“it’s a secret,” mark insisted, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “will you come with me?”
you shrugged. “sure.” as far as you were concerned, you’d gauged mark to be relatively harmless.
mark gave you a bashful little smile, and you grabbed your bag before leaving, letting him lead the way. whatever he had in store for you, you were none the wiser.
mark was fighting a sly little grin. so far, so good. if all went smoothly, it would only be the two of you at the dorms for a while, meaning mark could do as he pleased. sure, a college dorm wasn’t the ideal place to hook up with you for a number of reasons, but he knew that he would have you nice and controlled in a matter of moments.
in the corridor, you clung to mark’s side, resting your head against his body, and broke the silence to remark, “you smell good.”
mark, flushed, stammered, “thank you.”
you stifled a snicker. it was no secret that mark had something of a crush on you (as many boys did), and you enjoyed stirring reactions out of him every once in a while. he had always been shy, but whenever you came into the equation, it was like his whole system shut down. needless to say, you found it cute.
though inside mark’s head, none of it was ever enough for him. he didn’t see it as you innocently flirting with him. he took it as you toying with him, poking fun at him. like you were trying to ridicule him by shoving his reactions in his face and tell him that that was why you never gave him the time of day. he was just a pawn in an even bigger game, but not anymore. all of that came to an end today.
mark unlocked the door and took you to his room. you took a couple of glances around the place as you walked through the hallway. it was empty.
sitting your bag down on his bed, you asked sweetly, “so, what did you have to show me?”
you were a little surprised, and confused, when mark pulled out his phone of all things. he simply shoved it in your face and his tiny smile dropped when he asked expressionlessly, “is this you?”
your eyes flickered. to your horror, it was a video of you getting railed by doyoung in his office. you remembered feeling inexplicably watched, but doyoung had taken no risks when it came to getting caught, because he had a career at stake. your face was very clear in the video, lips parted while you moaned your professor’s name, and to make matters worse, his voice was audible, doyoung growling, “keep clenching around my dick like that and you’ll never fail another test.”
mark chuckled at the sight of the blood draining from your face, the realization settling in, and he asked, “wouldn’t it be funny if the whole school got this video?”
you reached out, trying to grab the phone, but mark lifted it over your head. 
“ah, ah, ah,” he sang, taunting. “this is mine.”
you cried out, “mark, you can’t show this to anyone!”
“well, no, actually. i think i can,” mark hummed, pretending to ponder his options. “there’s many different ways. i could post it on a website, you know. title it ‘young whore gets railed by her own professor.’ or i could send it in the team group chat and let them do all the heavy lifting.”
you fell down to your knees, tears in your eyes as you crouched before him and begged, “mark, please. i just wanted to get a good grade. i’ll do whatever you want, just please don’t show anyone. this will ruin me.”
that piqued mark’s interest. “whatever i want?”
you bobbed your head, wiping tears from your face with the back of your hand, and traveled your hand up his leg as you realized he was already pathetically hard. “is there anything i can… help you with?”
mark sat at the edge of his bed, grunting, “take a wild guess.”
you knew what that meant, lifting your hands to remove his pants. mark helped you take off his underwear, bundling at his ankles with the rest of his clothes. his hard cock stood thick against his stomach, desperately angry too, just like the rest of him.
mark watched you lick a stripe down your hand before grabbing his cock in your fist, stroking him up and down. after imagining this moment for a thousand days and a thousand nights, his bare cock in your skilled hands, his dreams were finally becoming a reality. there were many times in the months that mark had been silently aching for you that he fisted his own cock, pretending it was you.
“fuck,” mark groaned, eyes closing.
part of him was in disbelief. this whole time, all it took was a little blackmail to get you on your knees for him? had he known that, mark would’ve done this a hell of a lot sooner.
then, you darted your tongue around his slit, bringing it down to lick at his shaft and tongue his balls. mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and locked it in place behind your head, not only to keep it out of your face, but to have something to anchor himself with when he felt as if he was going under.
and with your experience, that would happen a lot of times.
it was almost like you were pulling out all of the stops to convince him not to circulate that video of you, and judging from the desperate look in your eyes, mark pieced together that it may have not been too far from the truth. he wondered how many other guys had seen you truly desperate, not just the little shows you put on to get your way. you treated men like toys and the world like your personal playground, where boys were your subjects to bend and twist however you pleased, because you took your power from making them need you.
but mark was certain that he was the first to have the upper hand over you, something you didn’t have leverage over. everybody knew of your sexcapades with boy after boy, but only because they were always verbally spread. never had anyone seen physical proof of these little trysts, other than your little limps when you got fucked too hard.
mark wanted that. he didn’t want anyone to see your body so exposed, but he wanted everyone to know that he’d finally conquered you, and he wanted you to be unable to deny it. he wanted to fuck you so vigorously that you wouldn’t even be able to walk for the next couple of days.
you could keep a secret if you really wanted to. given the amount of times he had tutored you for a number of different courses, he was certain that doyoung couldn’t have been the only professor you fucked. having a brain just wasn’t something little whores like you were good at. mark would take good care of you if you kept pleasing him like this, and only him. you would never need another man as long as you had him to do your bidding.
there was a lewd, wet sound when you finally sucked mark’s cock into your mouth, followed by a shaky exhale of your name coming from his end. he yanked at your hair just a little, met with a muffled noise against his cock. “fuck, you’re so good at this,” mark hissed.
you only hummed because there was nothing that you could say with the tip of his dick hitting the very back of your throat. your mouth was so warm, so wet, mark couldn’t help but utter a string of profanities, stammering, “fuck,” over and over again. when you were in the picture, his genius brain couldn’t function, especially not enough for a broad vocabulary.
while one hand was tangled in your hair, mark kept his other hand bunched at his sheets, gripping them for dear life. yours were at his thighs, supporting you while you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, your pretty lips tight around his cock. his roommate wasn’t supposed to be back for a few hours and mark hoped it stayed that way, because he planned on taking his time with you.
too many months had been spent pining lostly for you, amounting to nothing in your life and hardly even being spared a glance in his general direction. for a few hours at the very least, he had you all to himself, and he was going to make sure that when you left, you would never forget him.
after he was done collecting his long overdue, much-needed apology in the form of your mouth bringing him to climax. and it wouldn’t be long before you finished him, because mark could feel himself inching closer and closer to climax the longer you warmed his size.
he started to rock his cock into the back of your throat, ruining the careful pace you’d set and grabbing a hold of the reins, fucking your mouth however he liked. you took it eagerly, struggling, but eager nonetheless.
your grip on his thighs tightened, as if you would slip away from the force of his erratic thrusts against your poor mouth. you knew your throat was going to be so hoarse by the end of it all and mark would fold the second he heard your weak voice.
the chants of your name and deep curses got louder, more repetitive as mark continued to use your mouth to get off. you started to gag, but the feeling, combined with the misty look in your eyes, did nothing but encourage mark’s movements and spur him on.
his pace got rougher. the clasp on your hair was unrelenting. his thrusts lost all rhythm, sporadic as they could ever be, until you heard the anticipated prolonged stretch of, “shit,” and all his movements came to a complete standstill. his cum painted the back of your tongue and you made your best effort to swallow it all, gulping it back as quickly as it came. literally.
when he released your hair, you pulled back, your chest heaving while you watched mark try to blink the dazed look out of his eyes. you were the first girl to give him head and it enraged him to think that jaehyun had a similar experience in the back of his car, because though you were the first mark ever had, he was also certain that you would be the best.
your eyes were widened and you played coy, asking demurely, “did i do okay?”
“fuck,” was all that mark could say, back dropping against the mattress. you’d officially sucked the soul of him. 
that was answer enough. you wiped some remaining drops of semen from your mouth with the back of your hand and rose from your knees. mark had your entire future at the palm of his hands right now and you were completely at his mercy, so you figured it was in your best interest to be meek. “is there anything else i can do, markie?”
mark scanned you with his eyes, observing you from head to toe. your voice was definitely a little raspy from how far he had shoved himself down your throat and he loved every second of it. all the proof that you’d taken him.
you gasped out when mark grabbed you by the throat and whipped you onto the mattress, hovering over you. you got whiplash from how jarring it was. you were accustomed to the shy, reticent mark that couldn’t even look you in the face for too long without spluttering. “you’ve done enough,” mark said. “just lie here and stay still.”
you bobbed your head, in no position to complain. he could ruin your life and your professor’s in just a few clicks, and that was enough to terrify you into compliance, although you didn’t express how genuinely fearful you were.
mark released your throat, crawling between your legs. you were wearing this tiny fucking miniskirt and it made him so horny he got sick. the audacity of you to walk around like this, turning heads and turning people on. you instinctively spread your thighs for him, a gesture that made mark scoff, and he hardened again at the sight of your damp thong.
fuck, you must’ve really wanted him, too. just sucking dick got you aroused like that? of course, it did. you were the biggest fucking slut the campus’s ever known.
“shit,” mark whispered, touching you through your panties. you were his fantasy.
mark slipped your thong to the side, just wanting to stop and marvel at the sight of your pussy before he stuffed you full of his cock and went to town. your panties, damp as they were, kept clinging to your skin. your folds were wet and he couldn’t help but want a little taste, basking in the noise you let out when he started to lick at your pussy.
all he could hear was your airy breathing and the sound of him tonguing your cunt while your thighs tried to squash his head. he even didn’t mind it. the only thing mark cared about in that moment was savoring the taste of you.
“mark-ie,” you moaned, threading your hands through his hair.
the sound of you calling out his name, that fucking nickname you loved to taunt him with, made his cock throb and twitch against the side of his bed. you were just so enticing.
“gonna fuck you now,” mark announced, separating from your cunt.
you whined, “hurry.”
you were raising your hips, impatiently waiting to feel his touch on your skin again. mark was quick to line himself up at your entrance, steering his hard cock deep inside your cunt with one thrust. you cried out that stupid fucking nickname again while he watched with fascination how you swallowed him whole.
your pussy felt just as warm as your mouth, but tighter. mark couldn’t wrap his head around how you squeezed him, kneading his cock, wet little noises coming from your cunt with every motion of his hips. you were better than anything he could have ever imagined and this was just the beginning.
“you’re so much bigger than i thought,” you whispered, intending to keep the little confession to yourself, but it was out before you could put a lid on it.
that was conflicting to mark. on the one hand, it enraged him to a capacity beyond being fathomable. you thought he was small? but on the other, it confirmed that you did think about him, and it gave him such an ego boost to know that you thought he was big.
mark couldn’t help but ask, “am i bigger than professor kim?”
“thicker,” you exhaled, breathless. 
mark would take it. he wanted so badly to be unforgettable. you never returned to your little playthings after you’d had your fun with them. he wanted to be the one you couldn’t resist crawling back to, the one that made you feel so much ecstasy that you couldn’t find anything like him anywhere else.
it was over once mark found his pace, fucking into you with a steady rhythm. his hands had a borderline bruising grip at your thick hips, fingers finding purchase there. his airy whines were so cute and his breathy grunts were so deep, both of which had you tightening uncontrollably.
it drove mark past the threshold of insanity. he was so angry that you hadn’t given yourself to him sooner, that he was only now getting a slice of what should’ve been his eons ago.
as soon as tomorrow, you would probably be on another dick, moaning another man’s name, and he couldn’t stand the fucking mental picture he got. his only option was to take out all his pent-up frustrations on you. given that you were the root of them, the direct cause of the ache and rage broiling inside his chest, it was only reasonable and fair.
“gonna make you mine,” mark said, the pleasure spreading through him so badly that he couldn’t help but stammer.
you didn’t miss a beat. “i’m already yours.”
mark howled, feeling as if he started to sweat harder just from you uttering those three words. it was pathetic how effortlessly you could wreck him, and you were so aware of your power, so cocky. he would allow it. as long as he got what was his, all else failed to matter.
matter of fact, mark failed to think of anything that wasn’t in regard to you. he had a thousand different problems in his life and all of them melted to the warmth of your touch, succumbing to the pressure pulsing around his cock. loans didn’t matter. his stupid fucking roommate didn’t matter. none of his assignments mattered. when it came to you, mark got tunnel vision.
there was pleasure etched across your face and mark loved every inch of it. he loved that he was making you feel as good as he felt. you couldn’t even deny it. you were the opposite of still, the one thing he told you to do, but again, he would allow it.
mark was so deep inside that it was probably mind-numbing. “markie,” you whimpered out, gasping for air. 
“mark,” he corrected with a growl, snapping the band of your thong against your skin. he was tired of that nickname. it felt infantilizing. he doubted that you called jaehyun jaehyunie.
you choked out, “mark.”
that was much better, but the damage was already done. mark was pissed. he’d been dreaming of how exactly he would fuck you ever since he watched that video of you and doyoung (of course, he couldn’t not watch you get railed into oblivion, no matter how much it irked him) and now that he was balls deep inside you, you were still finding ways to get on his nerves.
mark grabbed you by the throat again, making your eyes widen. his grip wasn’t crushing, he cared about you too much to really hurt you, but it was tight enough. “i don’t understand you,” he hissed. “you fuck a new guy almost every fucking day, whether it be for fun or because you owe them a favor, but ignore me. you ignore me, after everything i’ve done to help you.”
“i’m sorry, mark,” you rasped, grinding your hips against his.
“no the fuck you’re not,” mark snapped. “you know how i know you’re not? because you don’t care about anything but having that dumb pussy fucked. you’d rather die than have to use that brain.”
mark didn’t miss the way you whimpered and clenched around his dick, and if anything, it made him shake his head. he was fucking you brutally and yet you couldn’t help but get off like the little whore everybody knew that you were.
he lifted up your the tight tee you wearing, the one he could see your nipples through (mark tried to ignore this for both of your sake), and sucked your breast into his mouth. you moaned, placing a hand comfortably on his head while he sucked at your nipples.
and things stayed like that for a while, almost sweet, depending on who you asked. but the heat building to a peak in your stomach was only festering and you couldn’t control the whines that frequently escaped you.
“mark,” you called out. he didn’t budge, didn’t move from your chest. “mark, i’m so close.”
mark lifted his head at that, dragging, “shit.”
you needed to cum so badly. if he wanted you to beg, you would if that was what it took. “please make me cum, mark. please, make me cum…”
all mark did was curse and swear, and your eyes were on his face, watching every word part his delicate lips. you’d seen his face tense with pleasure and fell in love with the sight, like that itself was getting you there.
and it did. 
there was a final, loud cry of mark’s name when you climaxed, your eyes rolling back with pleasure and your fingers digging into the sheets.  mark had sat here so many times on this very bad, jacking off to the thought of you, and now he was getting you off. 
it was something straight out of his dreams. he couldn’t help but cum, grinding to a halt and unleashing his load inside of your pussy. he couldn’t stop himself from whining your name, grabbing onto your hips while you bled him dry of all of his cum for a second time. he always had more than enough for you.
for a moment or two, the two of you only stayed there. neither of you moved. his head rested against your chest, hearing and feeling your ragged breaths. when you finally remembered why you’d agree to all of this in the first place, you asked softly, “you aren’t going to show anyone, right?”
mark shook his head, murmuring into your neck, “your secret’s safe with me.” for now.
you released a little breath, which felt easier now, despite the weight on your chest. 
when mark at last pulled out, he slipped your panties back in place, preventing his cum from leaking out of your cunt where he patted you with two fingers. “keep it there,” he said, stern.
you blinked, but the gaze in his eyes said that he was purely serious. maybe someone would see you leaving his dorm with his cum drizzling down your legs.
and they would know who you belonged to. mark was getting hard again just thinking about staking his claim to you. she’s all the rage, he thought. and she’s all mine.
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cartierre · 10 months
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HIGH INFIDELITY | cl16, cs55
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SOCIAL MEDIA!AU carlos sainz x latina!reader x charles leclerc
side note: there is implied cheating. this is based on "high infidelity" by taylor swift. side note pt2: sorry for the ugly watermarks on the youtube interviews. and for the bad quality. couldn't find better ones. side note pt3: this is so over the place i apologise.
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♡ liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomez and 34,293 others
yourusername veranos brasileños (brazilian summers)
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user1 are you and carlos still dating be honest
user2 are we not going to address the elephant in the room? ⤷ user3 it's all just rumours why do they need to address that?
user4 okay so carlos is still liking and all... maybe we are just overreacting?
user5 miss ma'am attended one birthday of her friend alone and suddenly everyone thinks her and carlos are over? ⤷ user6 she's also not been attending any races since australia ⤷ user7 okay and? she has a life of her own? ⤷ user8 it is suspicious ngl
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tagged: yourusername, carlossainz55
f1wag Carlos Sainz Jr. and his girlfriend of two years, Y/N Y/L/N, have officially broken up. After cheating rumours sparked the news, the couple has decided to call it quits right before the Belgium GP this weekend.
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user9 i'm not surprised ⤷ user10 i'm actually amazed they even lasted that long after the rumours
user11 i just would've loved to see their chats after the cheating rumours hit the internet ⤷ user12 same like what happened that y/n met up with charles and carlos with isa?
user13 does that mean we'll finally see carlos and isa again?
user14 good riddance on carlos' side honestly
user15 am i the only one that thinks they were kinda cute together tho? ⤷ user16 yes
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yourusername happier than ever
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user17 omg is that charles ⤷ user18 i mean it does look like the apm monaco watch he's wearing ⤷ user19 and he is still following her and liking her posts
user20 the way she is so fucking unbothered by everyone calling her a cheater... she won the idgaf war
user21 if charles and y/n are dating now that's kind of an ass move from them
user22 at least she seems happier now? ⤷ user23 she doesn't deserve to be happy after what she did to carlos
user24 i'm laughing at how she lost so many followers lmao
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f1wag Ex-WAG Y/N Y/L/N has been spotted multiple times in Monaco since the summer break has started. It is rumoured that she's been seeing Charles Leclerc, teammate of her ex-boyfriend Carlos Sainz Jr. However, none of the rumours have been proven right.
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user25 she's such a whore omg ⤷ user26 yeah but charles isn't any better
user27 this is so disrespectful to carlos
user28 it hasn't even been a month since their break-up and y/n is already out here rubbing her new relationship with charles under carlos' nose? smh
user29 so we were right to mistrust her from the beginning?
user30 i'm so gagged by the disrespect. this is a new low.
user31 charles went from homie hopper to collecting the ex-girlfriends ⤷ user32 he's getting the leftovers
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tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername none of you know the whole story...
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‘Kakashi just wants to hold the status quo’
Kakashi: follow your mission but if your teammates are in danger screw the mission, save them
Kakashi: *disobay’s hiruzen’s order’s to go save Yamato from Root*
Kakashi: *disobay’s tsunade’s order’s to go after Naruto and Sasuke*
Kakashi: *disobay’s village rules/orders to take Naruto to the raikage to plea for Sasuke’s life*
Kakashi: *becomes hokage and pisses off countless people by ‘forgoing the old ways’ and actually changing shit.
Kakashi: *disrespects the elders by calling out their shit when they said danzo ‘was only trying to protect the leaf’
Kakashi: *never actually shown respecting Hiruzen, just doing his job because he was broken at the age of five and never truly given an opportunity to heal until after the fourth great shinobi war*
Kakashi: *should destroy root and everyone in it but decides to give them another chance in anbu*
Kakashi: *by all logic i should abandon this mission that the hokage gave me because you lied to us and it’s way over the level of my genin, but you need help so f*** it*
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arepitademanteca · 2 months
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Transformers Prime has a disappointing fandom
I have never been so disappointed with a fandom as much as now…
After being a part of fandoms like The Owl House and Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and having absorbed the endless anguish of their most tragic characters artistically reflected by their fandom, I can say that it is disrespectful to Transformers Prime that it is not made enough anguish.
Where are the Bumblebee fanfics, fanarts, analysis?
HE HAS ALL THE JUICY CHARACTERISTICS OF A TRAGIC CHARACTER WITH EXPLOITABLE ANGUISH:
1) In several chapters the other bots express themselves and refer to him as much younger than them. HE IS A CHILD SOLDIER.
2) He was interrogated and tortured by the leader of the enemy group, with whom he had to continue fighting constantly.
3) As a result of the torture his larynx was destroyed, and the level of damage was so brutal that his voice box could not be repaired for millennia.
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4) He was forced to leave his home planet because it had been destroyed and he had to take refuge on another planet. Now he is not only a child soldier, but he is a political refugee.
5) One of his comrades in arms, friend and family member died without him being able to do anything to prevent it. Obviously Bumblebee has lost many more teammates and friends in the past, considering how small Team Prime is.
6) He had to watch his leader/father figure almost die from an infection and the only way to save him was by entering the mind of the guy who tortured and incapacitated him to obtain information.
7) He was possessed by that same guy (seriously, Megatron leaves the kid alone) and forced him to hurt two of his friends, and everything else Bumblebee went through in the middle of the possession is up for interpretation, FANDOM WAKE UP.
8) THE SAME GUY WHO INTERROGED, TORTURED, MUTILATED, INCAPACITATED AND POSSESSED HIM, attacked him for fun and on the spot fatally injured his best friend/protege/younger human brother. Then the child abuser made fun of him in his face for it.
9) Not even 24 hours had passed when the unmentionable went to his hiding place, his SAFE PLACE, in search of an alliance, which he then betrayed because he kidnapped Bumblebee's father figure in front of his eyes.
10) He is mutilated again, he temporarily loses his T-cog, his feelings of insecurity within the group deepen slightly and when he goes to retrieve his T-cog he sees how it is almost destroyed. No one talks about Bumblebee literally holding one of his organs in his hands, it's like you see someone hugging his lung or something.
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YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN, that apathy towards oneself and dehumanization (?) has POTENTIAL, if the child did not mind having an organ of HIS in his hands, I can already imagine how he reacts and treats his physical and emotional wounds. He is the type of character who hides his injuries, jokes about his traumas and in doing so traumatizes everyone around him, has a terrible sleep schedule due to nightmares, frequently dissociates, and has zero sense of self-preservation (canon).
11) This is not a trauma, but it also has the potential to cause distress in the fact that he was probably used to getting more attention for being the youngest, but suddenly this guy, Smokescreen, the same age as him, appears, and Everyone expects Bumblebee to be the one to guide the rookie, so every time the rookie makes a mistake, it will be Bumblebee's fault. Also, the new guy who never actively participated in the war, compared to Bee, who was born and fought in it all his life, turns out to be the one chosen to be the next Prime. Actually?
12) The base where he lived most of his time on earth was destroyed. It may not sound that bad, but as someone who recently lost their home to armed conflict, I can tell you that it hurts a lot.
13) He was separated from his team for a few days and when he found one of his teammates, his second father figure tells him to go away, to stay away and discourages him. Bumblebee must have felt bad because the one who convinced Ratchet to help them was not him, but Raf.
14) Other traumatic things must have happened that I don't remember, the last time I saw the series was in 2022, okAY?
15) They kidnapped their second father figure.
16) THE SAME ONE WHO INTERROGED HIM, TORTURED, MUTILATED, DISABLED, POSSESSED, HARMED HIM AND HIS FRIEND FOR FUN, KIDNAPPED HIS TWO PARENTS AND DESTROYED HIS PLANET, shot him three times, almost four, in the chest and killed him temporarily.
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17) Megatron deserved it and it was more than satisfying and well done that it was Bumblebee who killed him, put an end to his power and the war, but knowingly killing can be traumatizing. Bumblebee killing Megatron in retaliation is also an ignored trauma.
18) He had to see Megatron's revived body being controlled by a god of destruction, who seemed to have something personal against him. At one point during the chase, Bumblebee thought his friends were dead.
19) He became the team leader in Optimus' absence, he was inexperienced and as a result he had two anxiety attacks in the same scene.
20) Optimus, his father figure, sacrifices himself to revive the planet.
so whERE ARE MY FANFICS? If anyone has recommendations, wants to write something individually or wants to collaborate, please write to me. This can't stay like this friends, Transformers Prime is not going to return as we would like, we the fandom have to bring it back.
Pd: English is not my native language nor do I have command over it, do not judge me for any error or lack of logic
gracias
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rivatar · 15 days
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Practice Makes Perfect
Pairing: AU!College!BasketballPlayer!Neteyam (21) x Fem!Human!Cheerleader!Reader (20)
Warnings/content: MDNI, smut, p in v, creampie, mean & fuckboy Neteyam, degradation, mirror sex, fwb, think that’s it but lmk!
A/n: This is for the day 2 prompt of Pandora’s Glow — Mirror sex + FWB! Credits to @luvv4j4ybe11 & @aperiraa for the event! And credits to @cafekitsune for dividers!
W/c: 1.2k
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Neteyam was eyeballing you during practice every chance he got.
He was one of the team captains and this often got to his head; no not often— all of the time. He was the typical cocky athlete who would send nudes to every hot girl, just like all his friends and teammates. He had girls falling at his feet so of course he fucked whoever he deemed pretty enough. Anything to get his dick wet and satisfy his endless sex drive.
To him, this glorified his manhood. Getting laid is the pinnacle of proving you’re the best. And Neteyam was the best. A star athlete with a full ride at your university, his family was well-known and wealthy, and he was favorited not just among his peers, but the professors, coaches, and other faculty too. He charmed the elders with his perfect boy persona, and hell— sports is what matters most to everyone so they all fall for his bullshit since he plays a part at getting them those big wins at nearly every game.
Your sport, however, was hardly deemed a sport by most. Including Neteyam. You worked hard your whole life, competing in All Star competitive cheer. Between the lifts, jumps, flips, and sheer stamina, you firmly believed cheer was damn well a sport, and a difficult one at that.
Due to renovations on the other gym where your team normally practiced all year, you were now forced to practice in the same gym as Neteyam and his team this season. Now him and his minions could openly laugh and make fun of you and your girls, like the himbo pieces of shits they are. Whether it was during stretches, muscle conditioning, or practicing the routines and stunts, the guys were always poking at y’all with sexualized and demeaning comments whenever they could and when the coaches weren’t close enough to hear. It usually went like:
“Bend over a little more, babydoll!”, “Could they make the skirts just a little shorter, please?”, “Amazing eye candy, ladies!”
They were often replied to with heavy eye rolls and a few “fuck off”s by all of you. The pure disrespect towards your sport was almost more than you could bare. Being viewed as an object to the male gaze was gonna be the death of you.
That was why you didn’t know why you ever agreed to this little situation with Neteyam after he cornered you and sweet talked you months ago. Now, it was like a daily routine.
“Mmm, fuck!” You held onto the sink in front of you for dear life while Neteyam rattled your shit from behind.
After both your practices wrapped up for the day, he gave you a look you knew all too well. One that said he wanted to fuck, now. The man always had his mind in the gutter. Neteyam always picked the place for the matter, sometimes a little riskier than you’d prefer, being that you didn’t want to be kicked off the team. But this time, following after his tall, broad figure as non-suspiciously as possible, he entered the family restroom down the hall. And that was how you ended up with his dick deep in your pussy.
He flipped your cheer practice skirt up to get a view of your ass, choosing to leave it on and pushing your panties to the side when he shoved his dick inside you.
“You know what this tiny little skirt does to me, you slut. Damn near asking for it, huh?” he said with venom lacing his words, giving your ass a hard spank.
You whimpered at his words. He was right, you were being a slut and you knew it. But you couldn’t resist him, much to your dismay, so you let your dignity take the hit.
“All wet and tight just for me? Or is it from ogling the other guys, too? Wouldn’t surprise me knowing you,” he chuckled darkly, “I mean you literally dance around for the entire public anyways, you little attention whore,”
You blushed deeply, heating up all over. You chose to look down at your feet that were struggling to hold you up from the sheer force of his thrusts.
Then you felt a rough hand beneath your jaw, forcing you to look up and into the mirror right in front of you. You were such a mess— hair misplaced, sweat lining your forehead, and some drool and tears leaking out on your face.
“Watch yourself get fucked by me,” he grunted, and held your face in place so you were forced to acknowledge the scene you were creating through the mirror.
He was hitting your cervix so perfectly, making your body tingle all over. You let out a long and drawn out moan as every inch of your body felt like it was on cloud 9.
“See how pretty you look when you’re moaning?” He said into your ear, “Just a cockslut getting exactly what she wants. You’re lucky you’re so hot or you wouldn’t be getting this from me,” he added while nibbling your ear.
You clenched around him and attempted to drop your head down and focus on the pleasure. He didn’t let you move one bit though, with his painful grip on your hip and his other hand directing your face to the mirror.
“Nuh uh. Watch it. Want you to watch yourself cum on my cock,” Neteyam stuttered a bit, feeling his orgasm approach quickly. “Better do it now pretty girl, I can’t hold back much longer,”
He gave you harder and somehow deeper thrusts while snaking his hand around to rub tight circles on your nub. And that was all it took for your coil to snap.
“Ahhh fuck!!” You screamed as your orgasm wracked through your entire body, almost closing your eyes shut.
“Eyes open,” he tapped your jaw, “Look at you go,” He praised you as the feeling soared through your body.
Your jaw was hanging open in a silent scream as you watched your legs shake and felt your pussy convulse on him.
“Now, eyes on me. Watch me as I cum in you,” He gritted through teeth.
You watched him through your eyebrows, your head feeling light and struggling to stay upright, your arms on the sink still holding you up. You watched in awe as all his muscles tensed up deliciously and he threw his head back while guiding your hips back on him as he shot his hot load in your cunt. You noticed all the little micro-expressions in his face as the sweet release rushed through his body too.
Coming down from your highs, you both glanced at each other briefly, suppressing little laughs. You fixed your skirt the best you could although he left an absolute mess in your folds, with his cum slowly seeping out of you. So you knew you needed to get out of there before anyone saw cum dribbling down your legs.
He smirked, knowing why you were rushing to get out. “Might wanna wash that before next practice,” he teased and winked at you, feeling proud as you swung the door open and ran off.
Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @eywaseclipse @neteyamsoare @nonamevenus @loakstahni @zafrinaxyz @anemonelovesfiction @strongheartneteyam @etherynn @plantgirliewholovespandora @ladykat37 @xylianasblog @vogueweb @inolaphoenix (lmk if you’d like to be added or removed!)
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icarryitin · 10 days
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Workplace Hot
spencer reid/gn!reader
look i don’t know what this is or where it came from, all i know is one day i woke up normal and then by the end of it i had started CM from the beginning and fallen in love w this man
word count: 1.2k//warnings: literally zero, just vibes
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Things never go smoothly, do they?
Never quite to plan, there’s always something missing from the final draft, or something unexpected lurking in the background of the big picture.
This surprise comes gift wrapped just for you, in stupidly attractive, nerdy, beanpole patterned paper.
The first time you lamented about your unfortunate crush on Dr Spencer Reid had been over mojitos at your favourite little hole-in-the-wall bar. Sitting at the raised table with the remainder of your girl group from college, staring dismally at the bottom of your glass, they’d tried to convince you he was just Workplace Hot. Proximity Hot. Work crushes are commonplace as anything, they come just as quickly as they go. God, you wish they’d been right.
You’d tried to convince yourself of it, anyway, and that worked for a little while. You were happy enough to sit at your desk, the man in question mirroring your position somewhere on your right, five days a week. You could do your paperwork in his general vicinity and not feel like you were about to catch fire every time he leaned over the aisle to pinch a file from your stack. And then, there was The Incident.
The Incident - named for the absolute havoc wrought on your nerves until the early hours of a Sunday morning in May. Uncoordinated nights out though they had been, with your own friends out celebrating a birthday and his little group with their own agenda for the evening, it would have been rude not to wave across the bar at him. The rest of them had been too far gone already but one of your friends noticed your shy grin, arguably your best - friendship forged in the fire of back to back forensic psychology classes would be hard pressed to die. She noticed, because of course she did. So you’d told her, because of course she’d have worked it out. And then, to your horror, she’d walked right over to him. Because of course she would. She’d wandered back over to your group only a few minutes later, a solemn look on her face under the dulled bar lights.
“Do you get what I mean?”
“Oh, I get it, my condolences.”
You had been doomed from the start - cursed, bewitched. Lulled into a false sense of security via cardigans and wide eyes and odd socks until you find yourself here. Six months into your new job, and six months into an embarrassingly cumbersome crush on the good doctor.
Which probably would have been fine if either one of you stayed behind at Quantico regularly, but you don’t. Instead, you’re burdened by six months worth of knowledge of all his little quirks thanks to case after case after case.
You know he’ll commandeer the couch on the jet when he can, because he likes to stretch out when he naps. You know exactly how much sugar he takes in his coffee, too much - you feel mildly nauseous every time you make him a cup, but you still make it. You know that he chews on the inside of his lip when he’s thinking particularly hard about something, just as well as you know he doesn’t even realise he’s doing it. And sure, it’s not just him, you’ve learned these silly little things about every member of the BAU team. But Reid’s just seem clearer to you. More significant. You’re a little more self conscious when you find yourself looking at him. Even in conversation, even if he’s looking to you for an observation about the Unsub. You can’t hold his eye for very long.
He knows, you’re sure of it.
There’s a rule - don’t profile the team. The golden rule. The golden rule that gets broken about fifty times a day.
Spencer likes the rule, even if he doesn’t always respect it. Sometimes it needs a little disrespecting, he thinks so anyway. Sometimes his colleagues, his teammates, his friends - they need somebody to prod them a little, letting people in goes against every fibre of a behavioural analyst’s being. But trust has to be built somehow.
He’s about this close to cracking you.
Which hasn’t been easy by any stretch of the word. You’d held him at arm’s length for much longer than the others, and at first he’d thought he annoyed you. It made sense enough, he’s been called annoying enough times in his life to know he definitely can be, and the way you’ve never really been able to look him in the eye would suggest you don’t want to get into the situation where he could be. He tries his best not to ramble at you, even now, just in case. Though that initial ice has long since melted.
You’re a lot more open with him now, even if there’s still parts he has to chip away at thick stone walls to get to. Silly things, that not everyone would care to know about their co-workers, but Spencer absolutely needs to know about you.
Which is where the stakeout game comes in.
It’s silly, really. Twenty questions - who plays twenty questions as a grown adult? FBI agents who desperately want to get to know other FBI agents whilst they’re stuck in the confines of an SUV’s backseat for hours on end. That’s who.
Derek and Emily sit up front, watching the quiet street, the way they’re supposed to be - as Spencer desperately tries to guess your favourite movie. He’s narrowed it down to two in his mind, in only three questions. The traditional rules of the game had gotten boring after the first few cases, you’d laughed and told him that he’s too good at guessing. He’d told you that you’re just not asking the right questions on your turns. You’re watching him carefully in the dark now, the way you’re meant to be watching the Unsub’s house. You don’t make eye contact but you’re studying his face all the same, he wishes you would. He’s become a little too dependent on the way his heart seizes when you allow him that kind of vulnerability.
He doesn’t have time to pick a film or ask another question anyway, because the Unsub is flying out the back door of the house, he’s jumping out of the SUV with everybody else, and the Unsub is surrounded. Thanks to your work, your observation being the final piece of the puzzle that had clicked everything else into place.
You’re chatting to a local officer when Spencer calls out the title of your favourite movie across the street. His guess, twenty questions completed in just three. How very Spencer Reid of him.
He’s right - obviously. He doesn’t need to watch the way your head drops and your shoulders shake with a giggle, interrupting your conversation to turn to him. But he watches all the same, he always does.
Your eyes sparkle in the dark when you look back over your shoulder, finally catching his under the orange haze of the streetlights, and sending a kaleidoscope of butterflies surging in the pit of his stomach. Paper thin wings clog up his throat, spindly legs tickle his lungs.
Work crushes are commonplace - but this one might just be the death of him.
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thoughtidtry · 9 days
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Mr. Perfectly Fine - MV CL
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SUMMARY: Angst: After your break up you take time to reflect on the man you once thought hung the stars. Who knew another would help you find the beauty in the stars as they fell. PAIRING: Ex!Max Verstappen X fem!reader, Charles Leclerc x reader at the end. A/N: Inspired by Mr. Perfectly Fine by Taylor Swift. Experimenting with formatting so please let me know if it helps with reading! 2.8k+ words... I apparently can't write anything smaller let me know if you all would rather have it in thousand-word parts instead of one long post!
"Mr. "Perfect Face" Mr. "Here to stay""
"You're so beautiful liefje"
Max hummed in the crook of your neck as you lay back on his chest while watching a movie. These moments were your favorite, the quiet murmurs, and gentle touches while enjoying each other company. The times when you had him all to yourself with no cameras or teammates looking at you both.
"Look who's talking pretty boy"
You responded back with a playful smirk knowing he hated being called pretty.
"Only pretty liefde really. I'm offended"
All you could do was giggle before looking back at your boyfriend to find him clutching his chest like you would imagine an old lady clutching her pearls.
"Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't know being pretty was a bad thing now"
Faking an innocent look as you apologized for your disrespectful comment. You wanted to see how far you could tease before he reacted. Already he looked like he was mulling over whether or not to accept you heartfelt apology.
"Of course pretty could never fully articulate how a face as perfect as your looks. I again am so sorry for the offen-"
"Oh that's it!"
You were interrupted by being picked up and tossed on the couch beside him before he was on top of you looking done. With a smug smirk on his face, he pinned your hands above your head with one hand before starting to tickle you with the other.
"You gonna really apologize now"
You couldn't help but laugh as he poked and squeezed your sides till you were gasping for breath. His laughter echoed in your ears as he continued to torture you.
"I-I'm sorry p-please max"
You finally gasped out and he stopped still chuckling before leaning down to peck your lip quickly.
"That's what I thought"
He declared with a look of triumph on if face. You study his face for a moment with a soft smile before you glance over to see you already looking at him.
"What, liefde?"
Max questioned, his eyes filled with curiosity. You shrugged before answer as if it was the most common phrase ever spoke.
"I just wish we could stay like this forever. Here. Just the two of us."
He softly smiled back at you taking in how relaxed and angelic you looked in the soft glow of the TV.
"Well, I don't plan on going anywhere without you. I'm here to stay as long as you'll have me."
"Mr. "Change of heart" Mr. "Leaves me all alone""
You had never minded Max having to travel to races it was a part of his job. He used to love you tagging along with him to the races, being in the paddock with all the other girlfriends and wives of the other racers, and going back to the hotel with him after to help him relax after a long day. It made sense that you wouldn't be at every race but recently it seemed like he didn't want you there at all.
There was always some last-minute reason he needed to be at the track days before free practice started and you couldn't get off work in time before he had to leave. Trips started to become longer and longer to the point he was never home. You tried your best to understand but you missed him.
You talk on the phone when possible but they were always short. He always had an excuse why he had to go. The engineers needed to talk to him about the car, Checo was waiting on him for a video, or he had made plans to hang out with one of the other drivers.
"Mr. "Never had to see me cry" Mr. "Insincere apology so he doesn't look like the bad guy""
At some point, you stopped trying to call him and just resorted to texting him. His responses were few and hours apart with a made-up reason why he hadn't answered. You were beginning to lose hope when your phone rang one day. The excitement in your voice was evident when answering the call.
"Hey Max, how's the race going?" He sighed in annoyance that you even asked. "Yeah it's fine, look we need to talk" You took a step back at his tone. He was cold or maybe even angry. This wasn't like him at all at least not the side of him you knew. "O-okay yeah. What's up? Everything alright?" You were panicking a little worried something bad had happened. Was he hurt? Did something happen at the track? "Look I just don't think this is really working out. I think we should end things." You froze in shock, this had to be a joke right? He did just say that. All you could get out was a whisper like your voice had been stolen and tears started to well up in your eyes. "W-What?" Another sigh came from his side of the phone. As if this was becoming a more tedious conversation than he had planned. "We just aren't the same anymore you know. I'm sorry, I need someone less clingy, someone who understands what I do for a living." There was a pause as you heard another voice before he continued "I got to go, Christian wants to talk about something. I'll send you any stuff you left in my apartment when I get back. Bye."
"Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl. I've been picking up my heart, he's been picking up her"
The last few weeks had been nothing but painful. Ever since the break up you've had several people calling and texting you. From the girlfriends and wives you used to spend time with in the paddock check to see if you're okay to random acquaintances wanting to hear all the dirty details. It made you sick thinking about that call, you thought that would be the worst of it until you got a text from Charles Leclerc.
At first, you thought he was just another person trying to figure out what had happened. You had spoken to him multiple times and were able to joke around with each other before everything happened but you weren't surprised. At least you weren't until you opened up the messages.
Hey, I know you probably want to be left alone, but I don't want you to get blindsided by seeing later. Max is seeing someone else. None of us knew until yesterday when he brought her to the paddock and started introducing her to everyone. I just wanted to let you know instead of you finding out through the media.
All the healing you thought you had done crumbled like a house of cards. The tears started to fall before you even got to read the last message. It hadn't even been a full month. How could he have moved on so fast? Through tear-blurred gaze you decided to respond to Charles.
Thank you for letting me know.... I appreciate your honesty. You're right I would like to be left alone. I'm glad to have met you and everyone else, but I can't keep talking to you all. It hurts too much, too many memories. Hope you have a great race, Charles..... Thank you again.
Charles felt a pang of guilt reading those messages. You had always been kind to him and seemed to care a lot about everyone you came in contact with. He felt angry at Max on your behalf and wanted to help you in any way possible.
You are an amazing person chérie. I know you want to be alone but I can't abide by your wishes. Please let me be there for you. We don't have to talk about anything in particular, just tell me about your day or we can talk about our hobbies. Just let me be here for you, please?
It took you a moment before responding to the process. Charles wasn't a bad guy from what you knew of him. You had been isolating yourself from everyone the last couple of weeks not wanting to talk about everything. Maybe having someone to talk to about normal life would be nice? A sigh of defeat left as you messaged him back.
okay.... so what do like to do in your free time?
Charles softly smiles at your message. It was a start and he'll take it. He responded back quickly telling you about how he likes playing the piano and how he had released a few songs. This was a pleasant surprise for you and you told him you listen to them.
"Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins" So far above me in every sense."
The end of the racing season came quicker than you could have imagined. You and Charles had become closer than you had ever expected. He was there for you to cry to and laugh with and as your heart mended he filled in the cracks still seeping sorrow with his own love and compassion.
Sitting on a stool in his kitchen while he tried to cook you dinner, you couldn't help teasing him for his terrible cooking skills. He mocked you back at how inept you were when it came to baking. The conversation lulled as he began to focus on not burning the food before he hesitantly brought up the award ceremony. "If it's too soon I understand, but I would love for you to be my date."
You took a moment to consider the proposition. As long as you were in Charles' life Max would be in yours. You knew you would have to see him sooner or later, so why not now? With your decision made you smiled a bit.
"I would love to be your date, Charles. This is your night to celebrate a great season. I wouldn't miss it for the world."
The night arrived sooner than you had anticipated and there you were walking on Charles' arm in a velvet red dress looking in his words like an angel. You held the compliment close as you made your entrance together.
Friends and acquaintances were rightfully shocked at your attendance. They quickly came to hug you and let you know how happy they were to see you before you all were seated for the ceremony. It felt good to be around everyone again, you had missed them. Missed the funny moments and heartfelt chats. The night seemed to be shaping up to a great time.
Max made a speech when accepting his WDC trophy. He made sure to thank a woman named Kelly, who you assumed was his girlfriend, along with the normal thank you to his team.
He seemed so calm, relaxed, and perfectly fine. It had only been a few months, how could you still be recovering while he was at ease. You felt so small and lowly at that moment, looking up at him at the top of his career.
Charles, of course, noticed like he always did and grabbed your hand in his with a soft squeeze before running his thumb across your knuckles. Once the ceremony ended, the people who had not noticed you before came to say hello while others said their goodbyes.
"Now I'm Ms. "Gonna be alright someday" and someday, maybe you'll miss me. But by then, you’ll be Mr. “Too late”."
Max stood near the front smiling as he talked to some of the other racers. He was dressed in a simple black suit with a bow tie to match and a beautiful woman on his arm. You could see why he liked her, she was gorgeous and seemed to fit perfectly beside him. As the commotion around your appearance began to reach an all-time high, he looked to see who it was about.
Never did he expect to see you, in a criminally perfect red dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, hanging on to none other than Charles Leclerc. He couldn't have stopped himself from staring if he wanted to. You looked amazing and he could tell you smile was genuine.
The sharp sting of past memories hit him as he studied your body language. So open, warm, and cheerful as you spoke you Lily, he realized how much he had missed you. Once your eyes locked it was over, your grip on Charles' arms tightened as Max strides forward completely leaving his girlfriend behind.
Charles noticed your discomfort, immediately following your gaze. He thought something might happen, Max would never just let you attend without having something to say. Looking down while shaking his head, he swore so quietly you barely heard before leaning close to your ear.
"Let me know if you want to leave. It's okay if you don't wanna talk to him."
Looking up at him, you softly smiled at how empathetic he was about your feelings. The worry in his eyes was evident but you had prepared for this. Resting a hand on his chest you shook your head.
"No, it's okay. Let's just get it over with and have a great night."
“Goodbye, Mr. “Casually Cruel”, Mr. “Everything revolves around you”.”
Max's blood boiled as he watched you touching Charles. How did you even know him? You had barely spoken to the Ferrari driver during your relationship. When did you get so close to him? He would find out soon enough as he drew closer.
"Charles" He nodded to the driver after coming to a stop in front of the pair before glancing over at you.
"What are you doing here Leifde"
He hadn't meant for that to come out but it still felt natural to call you that even after all this time. It sent a surge of anger through you to have him call you that again.
"I'm not your Leifde anymore Max. You lost the right to call me that. Would hate for your girlfriend to hear you."
You sneered back like venom making it clear you did not appreciate the name. He smirks at your reaction, loving that he still has an effect on you. Turning to look back at Charles he decided to try and get a raise out of him. After all, he's the reason your here right.
"What couldn't find your own date so you settled for my ex?"
Charles' composure snapped at that. How dare Max speak about you in such a disrespectful manner. You, even on your worst nights, couldn't say a negative comment about this man and here he was acting like you were damaged goods. He went to step forward and get in Max's face when you held him back getting in between the two placing both hands on his chest. Looking up at him, hoping he would understand what you were planning to do.
"He's not worth it, amour."
You loudly spoke the last word to get Charles' attention. He snapped his head down to you at the sound of his native language on your tongue. With a cheeky smirk on your face, you lean up to whisper in his ear.
"Please just play along."
There was a hint of mischief he caught in your eye as you moved one hand slowly up to the back of his neck.
"Mon chéri, let's just go home. I wanna slip into something more...comfortable"
Not only did this make the Dutchman scoff from behind you but also stormed off mumbling something under his breath. Charles can’t take his eyes off you, not when had just hinted at being a couple to get Max to leave. He didn’t mind it. If he was honest, he had actually enjoyed the way it felt to have you holding on to him all night. You let out a sigh of relief once he was gonna looking back up at Charles. Taking a small step away you started to apologize before being cut off.
“Come on ma belle fille, let’s get you home.”
Charles smiled a sweet smile grabbing your hand to usher you out of the room.
“Goodbye, Mr. “Perfectly Fine”.”
As you and Charles arrived at your house, he broke the comfortable silence of the driver. He looked like at scolded puppy as he began to talk.
“I’m glad you came with me tonight. Sorry I almost lost my cool at the end there.”
You snicker a bit before hanging him a half shrug.
“Honestly, it felt great to put Max in his place so thank you.”
He chuckled a bit in response while shaking his head slightly. Max was an idiot for losing you and Charles wasn’t gonna make the same mistake.
“Glad you had a good night Cheri. I know this might be too soon but could I possibly take you on a date? “
He pause hesitantly before continuing to ramble on
“If it’s too soon I completely understand but I couldn’t let my chance to show you how much I liked you pass without at least-“
You cut him off by grabbing his face, pulling him in for a kiss. At first, the shock of you kissing him caused him to freeze but he quickly recovered, kissing you back with so much passion that you were left speechless. Smiling as you both pulled apart, he had to be certain.
“So, is that a yes?”
You threw you head back laughing before confirming.
“Yes Charles, I would love to go on a date with you.”
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wingedjellyfishflight · 6 months
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Sexual Harassment Training
Captain Price has a permanent scowl on his face today, it seems. You see him stomping around like a toddler on a rampage at lunch.
"What's got the Captain all bollocksed up? Did I say that, right?" Soap grins, then grimaces as he thinks about it. Standing together, you dump your trays before Soap leads you to the team meeting.
"Ya, doll, that's how you say it. He's like this every year. Mandatory sexual harassment training for everyone this afternoon." You ponder it for a minute.
"Why? Like, it's just something to sit through, right? It isn't like anyone is harassing our team."
He chuckles quietly and answers, "they aren't worried about the likes of me getting harassed, but that we will harass you, Princess." You elbow him and sit next to Ghost, who has saved you as seat per usual.
"Hey Luv, ready to be bored and insulted for a few hours?"
"Are these really that bad, Bruv?"
"They are, Crumpet. They really are."
"Hey! You need to address your coworkers with respect! Nicknames have no place in this organization, Mr..."
"Riley, Lieutenant Riley." Ghost stiffens up in his seat, restrained irritation pouring off of him. The woman from human resources turns toward you.
"Ma'am I have the form here to file a complaint when you feel up to it. No rush."
"Uhh... a complaint?" You stare at her in complete confusion as she brandishes a form at your face.
"Yes, no one should be treated with such disrespect. Talking down to coworkers is frowned upon." Her voice is condescendingly sweet, grating on your last nerve already. You stare at her for a moment before nodding, and Ghost tries to catch your eye, looking shocked.
"Pet... I mean, Sergeant. Do my nicknames make you feel uncomfortable? I will stop if they do. You never said anything, or I wouldn't have..."
"Hmm...? Oh no, but I will be filing a complaint." Turning toward the smirking woman, you ask, "what was your name again? Brenda McMasters? Perfect." You quickly fill out the paperwork before handing it over. She skims it with a smile, then freezes in place as she reads it more closely, her smile falling. She looks up at you, then back at the paper, reading it again and again as the words sink in.
"You- you can't file a complaint on me! I'm the one teaching you about sexual harassment! I'm here to make sure these brutes don't attack you!"
You shrug before responding, "I feel singled out by you due to my gender and your policing of the camaraderie between myself and my teammates. It is making me feel very uncomfortable, Ma'am." Her jaw is hanging open in complete shock.
You stand and turn to the Captain, watching you with a grin on his face at the front of the room. "I don't know if I feel comfortable being taught by someone who is sexist and clearly violating policy, Captain Price. May we request a different lecturer? I know it will mean rescheduling, but I don't think we should be learning about harassment from someone who has a complaint on file."
Captain Price has to smother his grin and bite back laughter at your innocent expression when Brenda turns toward him. "You are right, Sergeant. Ma'am, I will take that complaint and file it. It wouldn't be proper for you to file one on yourself, or it might go missing in transit." He gleefully plucks the paper from her hands and walks out. She follows, looking ill. You can hear her trying to get the Captain to stop and discuss the matter..
You lean on the table with a pleased look. "So, free afternoon, now. Any plans?" The team just stares at you, still processing what happened. You see Ghost staring down at the table and tap his hand. "You alright, Tiger?" He looks up, visibly distressed.
"The nicknames, do they bother you, Sergeant?" He needs to know now. The last thing anyone here wants is to disrespect you.
"Course not. Makes my day. The only things better are cuddling after a long day while we watch movies in the rec room or killing fucks on the field together. HR doesn't know what the fuck they're talking about, Bruv." Turning back to the rest of the team with a grin you say, "How about we sun up on Captain's grass? He won't be back for a bit anyway."
"You're playing with fire, Lamb. We're in."
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tarjapearce · 10 months
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Lips anon! I'm learning from friends and duolingo lol but I still have a long way to go! Oooh imagine Miguel being furious another parent of another kid on Gabi's team shitalking about her in spanish. About how she's bossy for a girl and that she needs to pipe down and know her place. Mama tries to calm him down but fighting words commence lol
That's a good way to start. Best of lucks ✨
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"C'mon Gabi!! Get it baby!!!" You couldn't help but cheer her on as she kicked the ball in between her rival's feet, the ball passing between the kid and Gabi kept on leading with the ball.
A trick you had seen her practicing in the porch with Miguel. Your chest swelled with pride as Gabi passed the ball to another teammate, and they earned a score.
Miguel clapped and cheered her on, mid-time beeped and Gabi's team was called for feedback, some changes and tactic discussion.
Miguel walked towards the team, bottle of water in hand along a towel. Gabi's voice clear as she discussed with her team.
"No, no, pass the ball to Reuben, he is faster and you are injured remember? You are good with passes."
The kid only nodded sheepishly as he held his ankle softly.
Miguel's eyes softened upon hearing her lead, and exchange strategies with her team. She then turned to him and hugged him.
"Esa es mi niña." (That's my girl)
"Pappa, can we go to get some pizza later?"
"Of course." He offered the towel for her, which she used to dry her sweat, and the high pitch whistle rang, announcing the second time of the game.
He was making his way back when a voice made him stop in his tracks.
"¿Esa niña otra vez? ¿Porqué no le dan chance a Víctor?" (That kid again? Why Victor isn't getting a chance instead?)
If he could remember, the man was a parent he often saw at the games, always trash talking other kids in spanish, just because his kid was taking separate training and was doing an improvement on the team. Or so he had said.
He never paid attention to him really, or any other parents except you and of course Gabriela. Who had just been pulled a yellow card as a warning for playing a bit too rough.
"¿Ves? Esa niña es demasiado mandona y agresiva. Tiene que relajarse o si no terminará golpeando a todo el equipo contrario." (See? That girl is too bossy and aggressive. She needs to be tamed down or else she'll end up hitting the whole rival team)
That made his eye twitch in anger.
How dared he speaking about his daughter like this? A blatant disrespect he couldn't allow. He turned on his back and made his way towards the father.
Eyes hardened and fixed on the man that caught his presence a little too late as Miguel loomed over him.
"¿Qué dijiste de mi hija, cabrón?" (What did you just said about my daughter, fucker?)
Even though his tone was calm, each word he spilled were almost biting.
"That she needs to be tamed down." Despite the man's apparent bravado Miguel could hint the crack in his voice.
"¿Porqué no me repites lo que dijiste en mi cara, eh?" (Why don't you repeat what you just said to my face?)
At this point the cheerings had stopped to focus on the exchange between Miguel and the other kid's dad. Your heart leaped to your throat as you saw Miguel almost bearing his teeth at the man as his lips moved angrily.
"Fuck." You approached
"¿Te crees muy chingón para andar insultando a los hijos de los demás, sólo porque crees que nadie te entiende?" (You think you're brave to insult other's kids just cause you think none understands you?)
"Necesitas relajarte, amigo" (You need to relax, man)
The man seemed to hold a hand, creating space between them, the kids had stopped playing as they also focused on what was going on.
You held his hand and tried to pull him away.
"Let's go" You mumbled but his angered self ignored you.
"No soy tu amigo, pendejo. Y escúchame bien, cabrón. Si vuelvo a oir que le estás faltando el respeto a mi hija o a los otros niños te voy a partir la madre." (I'm not your fucking friend. And listen to me very well, you fucker. If I hear you disrespecting my kid or the others, I'll fuck you up.)
The whistle of the referee and other parents had to create more space in between, the tension between the both was palpable enough, you felt his hand gripping yours tighter.
The referee whistled again, resuming the game, cheerings and clapping slowly returned as the kids played.
"What happened?!"
"He was speaking shit of Gabriela. Hopefully he'll know now that I can understand him pretty fucking well. Talvez así se calla el hocico." (Maybe that way he can shut the fuck up)
You sighed and rubbed his arm, trying to comfort him. He threw glances at the man that only recoiled to his own self whenever he caught Miguel staring at him.
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