#did you know i call her “Michele”???

[myewt]

Marsilly

[infimace-blog]

Thinking about rap as a technical artform and rap as a cultural artform, with respect to Tumblr's incompetence at dealing with either. Tumblr can just barely grasp the former because, like all forms of Black music, it's been repackaged in various ways that are more palatable to to white audiences. I talked last month about how what Tumblr was calling rap while trying to defend its taste in music is more akin to filk songs, but I should admit, sometimes Tumblr cites people who actually rap. It doesn't fix the problem or absolve them of their bullshit, but it is true.

The failure then becomes an inability to recognize or care about how rap functions culturally.

People on Tumblr will take Dungeon Meshi and intricately pick apart how a single chapter connects back to real-world neurodivergence issues and the cultural differences between the West and the East when it comes to handling them, and then look at any given rap song and assume it's skin-deep. Unless it's Hamilton back in the late 2010s, before we all decided it was cringe, in which case they'll gladly dig into the history of the early USA and, like the play itself, sidestep the racism whenever possible.

Take Weird Al, one of the many names that's been thrown around in Kendrick and Drake's wake. Weird Al is technically a rapper. He has done rap. We cannot ignore that as a factual statement. He's not even that bad as a rapper. But he has no engagement with rap as a cultural object; he engages with the artform as a parodist. "Amish Paradise", probably Weird Al's most popular rap parody, doesn't say anything; it's here to riff on a religious minority. But you dig into it just a little and you can see the kind of complexity that Tumblr usually loves to talk about. The song is, after all, a parody of Coolio's Grammy-winning "Gangster's Paradise", which is literally about being a black man in an environment dominated by organized crime and fearing the constant threat of death in that life, but was also created specifically for the movie Dangerous Minds, a middling white savior movie about Michelle Pfeiffer teaching a bunch of bad stereotypes of what people think inner city non-white students are. A movie that was, in turn, based on a white woman's memoirs about teaching in a bad school near San Francisco. You've got this interplay between a white woman's real-life efforts to teach her black and Latino students (I can't speak to how effective she was, mind you), a fictionalized version of that same woman being shown as the sole guiding light for her underdeveloped gangbanging students - and a white actress's crappy Kipling-ass 5/10 film getting Coolio his Grammy. It was tailor-made to be Coolio's big hit with white audiences, getting the push of Michelle Pfeiffer, having slow and deliberate rapping, and lacking the swearing in most of Coolio's oeuvre (Stevie Wonder mandated no swearing in return for letting Coolio sample his music). And, though I suspect this was unintentional, the song plays into the same narrative that the movie does, how this rapper is doomed to his life because "nobody's there to teach [him]", with dramatic choir and strings underscoring the dire fate that awaits this rapper if some charitable white person doesn't help him - the same dramatic choir and strings that Weird Al uses for comedic effect by comparing it to Amish farmwork.

I put that last paragraph together with two or three hours of Wikipedia, and you can do the same kind of analysis with a lot of hit rap songs (and Genius is right there if you need a helping hand - I wouldn't have understood much of Kendrick's Euphoria without it), and I think this drives a lot of my frustration? Tumblr loves to see something cool and then take a few days to write an in-depth post about how cool it is under the surface. So the lack of this when it comes to rap does show a deep disinterest in thinking about it when it isn't fun. And there's so much cool shit to learn about rap. Did you know that Baby Got Back was inspired by the anti-black fatphobia Sir Mixalot's model girlfriend was dealing with in her industry, and was pushing back against the media's general preference for skinny white women? Did you know that there's a Turkish hip-hop scene specifically in Germany because, as a minority that was brought to the country for cheap labor and then forced to exist as second-class citizens, they ended up relating a lot to the music? Just. Dig a bit. There's so much.

[arminsumi]

HELLOOO THERE!! Can I request gojo dating reader because of a bet with suguru and falling for reader, reader doesn’t know and was hurt when they overheard they’re just a bet, angst to fluff pls 🫶🫶🫶

thank youuuu, hope your having a good day!!

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

A/N: u have no idea how much i LOVE this idea anon!!! 💗💗💗 i really hope i did it justice 😩

Wc ≈ 1.4k

Pairing: GOJO Satoru x f.reader

Summary: Suguru betted that Gojo could make anyone fall in love with him, even someone who was his complete opposite — like you.

Warnings; angst-to-fluff, angst contents — {self-loathing (Gojo), crying, heartbreak}, a little bit suggestive at the end, kissing/making out

♪ michelle

It was nice while it lasted.

The handholding in public, the stolen cheek kisses, the pampering and spoiling, relishing in the jealous looks thrown your way when he fed you bites of his food in the cafeteria, bathing in Gojo Satoru's affection. A lot of people would have killed for your position, or even a glimpse into what it's like to date your college's biggest heart throb.

You two seemed to really like each other. It was like two mismatched puzzle pieces somehow fitting together — a fascinating connection was shared. No one would have put you and him together, not even Gojo.

The only reason he asked you out in the first place was...

"Suguru, that's such a nasty idea... I love your mind."

"Just don't actually fall in love with her. The whole idea of this bet is that you can prove any girl can fall in love with you, don't forget that."

Gojo had chuckled at this, it seemed so ridiculous.

Why would he actually fall in love with you? You weren't even his type. He never paid you a sparing glance, not at school, not at parties, not around town.

You weren't his type...

So why did his heart start panging excitedly a few months into your 'fake' relationship? Why did he swoon when you fell asleep laid on his chest in his dorm room? Why did he want to kiss you so badly every time he saw your face? Why did he jump like a cat whenever he got a text from you? Why did he kiss you like the world was ending?

And why did he cry when you found out the truth? He looked distraught when Suguru let the secret slip.

Why did Gojo Satoru, the strongest, beg on his knees for you to stay when you were about to walk away?

"Please! I'm so sorry! I know it was so wrong and fucked up — shit I regret it so much — I really like you! I swear to god, I swear on my life!"

You choked on your tears so badly that you could barely talk. "I can't believe you. This is such a fucking horrible th - thing to do to s - someone, Gojo."

He felt so hurt that you went back to calling him Gojo and not Satoru, like you used to when the two of you were just mild acquaintances.

"Don't go!" He almost yelled.

His arms wrapped around your midriff, he slid down like he was too weak to support himself — like his legs went limp. He slid down until he was clinging to your legs. He sobbed with such a genuine-looking crying face that you almost believed it. He wasn't play-crying like he does to get attention or persuade people, he was ugly-crying.

Gojo Satoru, the prettiest boy you ever knew, was an ugly-crier. A string of saliva glistened between his canines, his mouth hung open like a dramatic renaissance portrait of a distraught man. His eyes were pinched so tight that fat tears cascaded out the corners.

"Please don't go!"

⁕⁕⁕

Suguru found his best friend sat in the middle of the campus' main stairs. Desolate. One hand holding up his heavy head. Regretful. eyes closed.

"So it didn't go well?"

Satoru didn't raise his head, but he slowly opened his eyes and looked miserably at the floor. He watched a line of ants.

"It went as horribly wrong as you could imagine." he responded eventually.

Suguru came to sit next to him. "Are you really in love?" he asked him seriously.

"Of course I fucking am! — sorry..." Satoru snapped, then immediately mumbled an apology.

A long summer breeze went by.

"Try again." he suggested, "I'm sure she'll - "

"She fucking hates me."

There was a heavy silence after Satoru said that.

"If I were her, I'd hate me too." Satoru muttered.

Suguru went silent. He felt guilty, after all, he was the one that dared his best friend to do something as stupid as play with your heart.

Satoru watched the ants scurrying along. He felt as puny and weak as one right then. The realization of these feelings themselves are what urged him to abruptly stand up.

"I'm not giving up. I'm gonna explain to her that I really did fall in love — that I really do fucking like her so god damn much it's insane and stupid."

"That's the spirit — where are you going?" Suguru asked curiously as Satoru began heading over to the parking lot.

"I'm gonna go bring her flowers and... stuff..." he replied unsurely.

Will that really work? He wondered to himself.

"But it's gonna rain." Suguru said, "Heyyy, Satoru, listen don't just — ah, there he goes... idiot really fell in love when I warned him not to..." he muttered pitifully.

⁕⁕⁕

There was a knock at your apartment door.

You wrung it open to reveal a heartbroken Gojo Satoru, soaked-through with rain, standing in the downpour, panting while holding onto a bouquet of vividly red roses. You couldn't have witnessed a more dramatic scene in a movie.

His hair was completely flat with wetness. There were raindrops running down his cheeks and dripping off his chin.

On the walk to your apartment, Satoru had mentally written a speech for you.

It was definitely a well-rehearsed heartbroken boy's 'take me back' speech. Flawless and direct. Surely it would have sufficed.

But he didn't say even the first few words of his practiced speech when your door flew open.

All he did was break down crying and fall to his knees right in front of you, like some dramatic actor — except he wasn't acting, you could feel the realness of his regrets and miseries through each sob.

"Satoru..." you looked down at him pitifully. "Come inside, you're gonna get sick." you said tenderly.

For some reason, those very small words communicated more emotions than any form of 'I love you' ever could.

⁕⁕⁕

His pretty nose was slightly upturned. You noticed that when he first kissed you after your third date.

You noticed it again when you observed how red it had become from crying and sneezing.

Wrapping a blanket around him. Drying his hair. Fluffing it with your fingers. Making him some tea. Sitting him down on your bed. Putting on a movie. Letting him curl up into your arms — something he never did when you two were 'dating' because he was convinced he had to show off his dominance to win you over.

All of this together settled the air between you two. But it still didn't explain everything.

"Why'd you do something so dumb?" you asked him half-humorously.

He nibbled and chewed on his lip, eyes on the TV — not really, actually they were looking at your subtle reflection within it.

"I'm an asshole." he admitted.

"You don't say." you chuckled.

He felt bad, and uncurled his body and raised his face to look at you. Satoru never wore a serious expression in all the time you've known him, both as acquaintances and 'lovers' — except for now, which is how you know it's true.

"I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. Suguru dared me because... well, because it seemed comical. We're opposites, no one would ever put us together right? But he and I thought that was a hilarious challenge. We wanted to see if I could catch you and make you fall in love with me, or something like that..."

He started mumbling his words and refused to look at you.

"Satoru."

"Yeah?"

He reared his head up at you.

"Did it mean something to you, the time we spent this summer?"

He didn't hesitate to respond, "It meant everything." he said.

"Well, then there we go." you said with a little smile.

"Am I being forgiven...?"

"Mhm."

He seemed taken aback and unsure. Was he really being forgiven? Were you reversing the script on him and pulling a trick on him now?

"Does this mean..." he mumbled quietly, "... that I'm allowed to kiss you right now?" he asked nervously, heart panging, eyes giving your lips a longing glance.

"You're such an idiot." you sighed, "Yeah of course it means you can kiss m — mmmf!"

You never managed the rest of your words out, they all got muffled on Satoru's lips. His hand came to cup your right cheek, fingers caressing your skin like you meant everything to him. He tilted his head into the kiss, broke apart for air, dove back in, kissed you feverishly fervently violently eagerly — with so much affection and thankfulness that you almost couldn't breathe due to being smothered.

"Sorry..." he panted after breaking the kiss, bottom lip glistening with saliva. "I'm sorry for breaking a heart as good as yours."

"Just don't do it again." you told him in a whisper.

The poor boy, two days without kissing was really too much for him. He went right back in and kissed you blue, until you gasped and subconsciously wrapped your legs around his slim waist and pulled him closer. His whole body felt hot and eager. You tasted so good, you looked so good, you loved him so good — he decided right there in the back of his mind that he'd marry you after graduation.

[footygirl114]

Celos (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

Hi, bet no one saw part 3 coming so soon! But well here it is, this slow burn build up is quite fun for me 😂😂

Links to Part 1 and Part 2

Your phone ringing the following afternoon interrupted your pacing of your living room. You had snuck out of Alexia’s apartment just as the sun was rising, it was easy considering hat you had slept on the couch not wanting to leave her alone, but also not wanting to cross any lines. You had left a note on the counter with a simple message of thank you, see you on Monday.

The panic set in as soon as you got into the elevator and once you made it to your apartment you immediately changed and went on a long run, and then hit the gym. You tried to tire yourself out and when you go got back to your apartment mid morning, you decided to deep clean your apartment. When that was completed, you had resorted to pacing your apartment. 

The working out and cleaning was able silence your thoughts, but as soon as you stopped the thoughts came back. You couldn’t stop thinking about Alexia. You were thinking about what could have happened to her, why you couldn’t protect her, and most of all how you were going to face her again without wanting to be close to her. You had to get the thoughts under control so you could work tomorrow and put back on the professional face to keep Alexia safe. 

When the phone rang, it startled you but also shook you out of the deep spiral you were in. Looking at the caller ID you immediately straightened up and answered the phone with a “Hi Michelle.” 

“Y/N, what the hell happened last night? I saw the news reports today and have been waiting for your call to update me.” Michelle immediately started in on you, her tone of voice made you aware that she was pissed off at you. 

You took a deep breathe and said “Michelle, I am sorry, I just needed the morning to decompress after last night.” 

The sigh she realises down the line makes you think she understands it but when she says “Y/N, you owe me more than that” you know she sees right through you. 

“Michelle, I did something stupid” You tell her, as you move to sit on the couch behind you. 

“Y/N” she says softly. 

Placing the phone on speaker and on the table in front of you run your hands through your hair and tell her what happened finishing with “I let her out of my sight Michelle, I let my guard down and I couldn’t protect her and she got hurt.” 

“She got hurt?” she asks you. 

“Well technically, she wasn’t the one who got hurt” you tell her, using the reminder to press your fingers around your sore face. 

“Y/N” she says with a slight warning in her voice.

You shrug as you say “I took a punch when I stepped in and neutralised the two attackers.” 

“Wait you didn’t say there was two?!” she asks you. 

You chuckle and reply “It wasn’t hard Michelle, they weren’t trained, the one just got a lucky punch before I could avoid it.” 

“I hope you can hear me rolling my eyes at you.”

You chuckle and say “I can.” 

“Can we circle back to how you think you didn’t protect her?” she asks softly. 

Leaning back against the back of the couch you cover your eyes and say “Michelle, did you miss the part where she was being harassed by two guys?” 

“No I didn’t, but you told me she wasn’t the one who got hurt. What I am hearing is that you protected her, you took the brunt of the anger and violence and she remained safe with not a hair on her head out of place.” Michelle firmly says. 

“But it shouldn’t have happened, I should have protected her.” You say again. 

“Did you check the surroundings of the room?” 

“Yes”

“Was there security guards on the doors?” 

“yes”

“Have you ever followed a client into the bathroom under these circumstances?” 

“no”

“Exactly Y/N. You did everything right and you protected her exactly like you were trained to do. Now as your boss I am proud of you, and I am glad you work for me. But as your friend, want to tell me whats really going on?” she asks you. 

Groaning you stand up and start to pace again as you say “Michelle, I almost crossed a line with her. I have never let myself get this close to a client before and I am trying to draw the line but I cant Michelle. There is something about her that I am just drawn to.” 

“Y/N, sit down I can hear you pacing.” 

Immediately you sit down and place your head in your hands on your knees as you start “I’m sorry-“

“No, shut up Y/N. It’s my turn to talk and you will listen to me.” She says sternly. 

When you do not respond she takes it as silence and continues “You are the best employee I have, and I know that you are the most professional person out there. I know you have a past and you have seen some horrible things, and you have done some things you regret. But the one thing that I know is that you will do whatever it takes to protect your clients no matter what. Thats why I know you will do whatever it takes to keep her safe.” 

“Thank you Michelle.” you tell her softly. 

“Now that the boss of me is out of the way, I am just going to say, Y/N whatever happens, do not shy away from anything. Do not hide from your feelings and just embrace it for once, It’s time to finally do something for you.” 

“I will try Michelle, thank you.” 

“I have to go, but next time send me a text at least when you take a punch.” she chuckles. 

Chuckling back you say “Of course I can do that.” 

You finish off the conversation and when you hang up you feel a bit lighter but also a bit more confused. You know you need to take a step back and keep things professional but you also want to make sure that you try to do what Michelle said. 

**

On Monday morning you are waiting out front of the building leaning on the SUV waiting to take Alexia to training. When she walks out you have a second to admire her, the sun hitting the blonde in her hair in the right light, as she looks down at her phone. When she looks up and meets your eyes you are glad you have sunglasses on. She smiles brightly at you and you have to pinch your palm to remind yourself of the line. 

“Buen Dia Ms. Putellas” you tell her with a nod and you move to open the back door for her. 

“Hola Y/N” she says and moves towards you, she places her hand on yours on the door and she says quietly to you “I missed you.” 

You nod and have to look away as you say “we should go Ms. Putellas.”

She looks at you for a moment and silently climbs into the backseat. You close the door behind you and walk around the back of the car taking a deep breath to calm your mind and remind yourself to keep this professional. When you get into the car she’s looking out the window you are glad you cant see the hurt in her eyes. 

The rest of the week goes much the same why, you keep your professional persona on and are able to not respond to any of her flirting. Luckily she didn’t have anything going on this week and with a midweek game there was little time to spend with her since you were driving her to and from the field. 

On Saturday there was a lunch time game, which meant you were waiting for Alexia outside leaning on the car early Saturday morning. When the departure time came and went and she hadn’t come out to the car yet, you got worried. As you walk back in the lobby and move to get into her private elevator, you keep thinking about what could have happen for her to be late. 

Chewing your lip your mind goes to worst case scenario and you know have your self convinced she went out last night without you and has been kidnapped. When the doors open you immediately move off them and ask loudly “Alexia, are you here?” 

As you move into her apartment and down the hallway you are met with the sight of a half naked Alexia with her track suit pants on, but only a sports bra on top, she has a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and her hair is a mess. She waves at you and moves to the bathroom to spit the toothpaste out and she yells out “I am so sorry my alarm didn’t go off.” 

You move closer and lean on the door way to her bedroom where the place is a mess, there is clothes everywhere and with a raised eyebrow you ask her “did Hurricane Alexia hit last night?” 

She chuckles and moves past you to her dresser to grab a hairbrush as she says “I cant find my warm up top” and she moves back by you to the bathroom to brush her hair. 

Chuckling you move into her room asking “the blue and red one?” 

“Yes” she says from the bathroom without looking your way. 

You move slightly and pick up her bed spread off the floor and pull out the shirt she’s looking for, you hang it on your finger and turn to her asking “this the one you’re looking for?” 

She turns and walks out of the bathroom with a smile and says “si, you’re a life saver.” 

She moves towards you and you move the shirt behind your back and say “I quite enjoy the view without the shirt on.” 

“Y/N come on, we’re going to be late” she says as she moves closer to you with a smile. 

You shake your head and say “We have some time, you are always ridiculously early Ale.” 

She moves even closer and stands right in front of you and asks “I guess I could just warm up in the sports bra” 

“No, thats not acceptable for the queen of football” you smirk at her and move one hand from behind your back to tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

She reaches a hand out to place one on your hip as she says “It would make for a good show” she places her other hand on your shoulder. She uses the momentum to pull you closer and she presses a kiss to your cheek and moves to your ear whispering “or I could put on this warm up shirt” as she pulls back with the shirt and pulls it over her head before you can realise she was distracting you. 

You stand there staring at her in disbelief as she moves and packs the rest of her stuff. Shaking your head you chuckle and say “you cheater.” 

“All is fair in love and war Y/N” she says and leaves the room chuckling. 

You shake your head following her out the door, you watch her gather her stuff and then head to the elevator. You follow her down as she has a firm smirk on her face the whole way. When you get outside you open her door and watch her in the car. 

You get into the front seat and before you can put your sunglasses on you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror and say “for the record, I prefer you without the shirt on” and you finish with a wink and then place your sunglasses on. 

She chuckles in the back and says “I will keep that in mind.”

A few hours later you had watched her score 2 goals in Barca’s 5-0 win, and you were now stood in the back of the media availability post game. She was sitting upfront beside the coach fielding questions from the media. There is one media person who has taken an extra dirty approach to asking Alexia questions. You keep an eye on her and when the time is up you move closer to Alexia to ensure she gets out safely. 

Before you can reach her the flirty media person beats you to her. You stay back, moving to stand behind Alexia, knowing not to interrupt, but you have to watch as the very good looking media person places her hand on Alexia’s forearm with a flirty smile. You watch as the media girls eyes light up and track down Alexia’s face, locking on her lips. 

You take a step closer and can see her hand rubbing circles on Alexia’s forearm. Your blood is starting to boil but when you hear Alexia laugh back it hurts more than you thought it would. 

Moving closer you look around and see the room is clearing out and Alexia’s coach is calling her over. As she moves away from the media girl she says “I will see you at the restaurant tonight at 7 then?”

The media girl smiles and says “It’s date.” 

Alexia moves towards her coach and doesn’t notice you behind her as those two words have broken your heart in two. You stand there watching as the media girl watches Alexia’s exit from the room. You continue standing there as the room clears out and all you can do is keep pinching your palm to prevent yourself from doing something stupid like punching the media girl. 

When you shake your self out of it you move to get the car and when Alexia comes out she’s talking on the phone in Catalan. You open the door for her and then continue to stay silent as you hope in the front seat you drive her home. She remains on the phone the whole time, and you park outside your building, she moves to open the door but you haven’t gotten out yet. 

She pauses her conversation and looks at you with a raised eyebrow “you getting out?” 

Shaking your head you tell her “I need to get gas.” 

She nods and says “okay I will be going out at 630.” 

You nod. 

“You okay Y/N?” she asks. 

You still haven’t looked at her but you shift the car into park and you say “I will be ready to drive you to your date, but first I need to get gas, and you should finish your phone call.” 

She takes the hint and closes the door, standing on the sidewalk she watches you drive away. You watch her in the rearview mirror and can’t help but wish it was this morning when you were winking at her in the mirror. 

[wittlesissyb4by]

"Watcha doing, little one? Why are you coming into my room? You know the only reason you're allowed in here is if you need your diaper changed. Are you wet?"

You propped yourself up from your hands and knees so that you could submit to Michelle's humiliating diaper check.

Michelle was your 'Big'. After several drunken disorderlies around campus, and a reputation for sleeping with (and fucking over) several girls at the dorm, you were quickly labeled as a 'problematic student'.

It happens to a lot of incoming Freshman and Sophomores. Their first few years at college, without supervision, some don't know how to handle the freedom and end up abusing it.

So, in an effort to alleviate the problem and keep the campus/dormitory looking good, a program was established to help students better transition into their adult life. These problematic students obviously weren't ready to be adults, and they must need 'parental' supervision because, without it, they apparently didn't know how to behave.

Seniors in good standing would be assigned a 'little' that needed correction. They would monitor, counsel, and sometimes punish their little to make sure they were making proper choices. But, call a spade a spade: they were basically your glorified babysitter.

The program quickly evolved, with each dorm finding more and more...successful methods of rehabilitating their peers.

The powers that be at the University simply looked the other way. After all, constantly expelling students made them look bad, they couldn't develop a reputation for constantly admitting delinquents, and hazing was something that happened all the time anyway. So, they decided to leave each dorm to their own devices.

Unfortunately for you, the device at your dorm was quite possibly the most humiliating of them all. They called it the 'Crinkle Correction'. They said it served as a way to 'start fresh', by starting you over in big, fat, crinkly diapers.

You had little choice in the matter. At only 20 years of age, the citations you received for drinking could get you expelled, or worse, put in jail. Girls around campus could file reports that you abused/assaulted them (even though you didn't), and it would ruin your reputation and any chances of landing a good job. Your only choice was to man up and take it.

"My goodness you are wet!" Michelle exclaimed. "Look how plump and puffy your pamper is!"

You flushed as you knelt in front of her, wearing nothing but your soggy diaper, feeling her grope and poke every square inch of the front in order to emphasize her point.

After she was certain that your cheeks couldn't get any redder, she placed the tip of her finger into your waistband, and gently pulled back.

"D'awww! Why is it crying?" she cooed as she peeked inside, referring to your caged cock. Michelle thought it was the perfect solution to keep you from fucking every girl on campus (as if the diapers wouldn't serve the exact same purpose), "you're leaking chastity tears!" she giggled, wiggling her hips in her sweatshirt with nothing but panties underneath. She knew it drove you crazy, she liked watching you clench your legs in an attempt to stem the flow to your crotch.

She circled you, watching you tremble. You wondered if other Bigs were as dominant as her, as demeaning, or did you get unlucky in that regard too?

"Did you go poo poo too?" she sneered in her sinister voice, circling you like a lioness around her prey.

"Y-yes ma'am..." you whimpered.

Frumpp!!

A swift kick to the back of your droopy diaper, her foot perfectly landing at the base of your balls. It wasn't her first time. You groaned and collapsed forward on your hands and knees.

"Tell me." She hissed into your ear. "Tell me what you did in your diaper."

"I went poo poo's in my pampers, Mommy!!" you whined into the floor, trying your best not to sob in front of her. She'd made you call her 'Mommy' since the first day she 'adopted' you.

"Awww!! Is that what that stench is?" She asked, as if she didn't know it as soon as you crawled in. She probably could have smelled you from down the hallway.

"Yes Mommy!!" you blubbered, losing your composure. "Sorry for stinking up your room!! B-baby needed to make a boom boom!"

It was pathetic. Pitiful. But you told yourself this was your only chance of staying in college and landing a solid career.

"Hmmm...well I'm sorry, little one, but you know I don't change dirties. You're gonna have to go find an RF for that..." But that didn't stop her from pressing her hand to your padded behind and mushing the mess into your backside while you cringed and whimpered.

RF's were 'ReFormed' students that had already made it through their semester of Crinkle Correction. Having to change dirty diapers served as a reminder of what they'd been through, and how easily they could go back if they ever decide to slip up again.

You obviously knew this. You'd had to make several crawls of shame through the hallways to one of the RF's rooms. But Michelle insisted that you come show her your filthy diapers first.

"Off you go," she said, taking the pacifier dangling from your neck and putting it back in your mouth. She smiled triumphantly, turning back to finally find some bottoms to put on.

Dismissed, you begrudgingly made your way out the door.

"Come back later, loser." she called after you. "I've got some girlfriends coming over. We'll play dress-up and turn you into a wittle baby gurl!"

As if. You thought. No way you would subject yourself to that level of humiliation! But she must have read your mind.

"If you do, and you're a good wittle pwincess, I might let you borrow my vibrator!"

God damnit. You thought. I'll be there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was an exclusive caption on my SubStar for the past 6 months. Go there to get more captions you won't see anywhere else, full access to all of my stories, and help a great cause (my electricity bill)!!

[promiscuouscutie]

All Yours pt. 8

Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut Word Count: 5026 WOAH

Warnings: There are descriptions of emotional abuse such as manipulation, pressure for sex, and coercive behavior in this part, descriptions of murder and gore, losing virginity, fingering, p in v hehe, nonconsensual videotaping, voyeurism, CASON UH OH

A/n: THE SMUT IS HERE ;) EVERYONE BUCKLE IN!!!! I'm so tired pls enjoy :)

This is cute, right? You stared at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the purple spaghetti strap that had fallen off your shoulder. The top stopped above your belly button, paired with white pajama pants plastered in pink flowers. Your feet were bare, no socks or slippers covering them. You could hear Anika humming outside the bathroom, putting on more lip gloss.

"Come out already! Stop doubting yourself," she called out. You sighed, mustering up the courage to step out from behind the closed door. Her eyes found yours, lighting up. "Look at you," she spoke with awe.

"Thanks for helping me pick this out. It looks good on me, right?"

"Of course! Everything looks good on you, c'mon now!" She almost laughed. She squeezed the cheeks on your face with her hands, staring into your soul. "Tonight is gonna go great. No matter what happens."

"What if he wants to..you know.." You trail off.

"Ethan's a sweet guy. I bet he's a virgin too. If he's not, I'm sure he'll be gentle with you. The boy couldn't hurt a mosquito," Anika reassured. You nod along, but her words didn't help. You were terrified. You didn't even know what would happen tonight, let alone if you were having sex. A part of you wanted to, but the act scared you. You were a virgin, never letting someone touch you that way. You had a boyfriend in high school, a short relationship. He wanted your body; he wanted things you weren't ready to do. You dumped him in the hall by your math class, leaving him speechless. But now you were older, with a boy you trusted with your life.

Anika bit the inside of her cheek as she rubbed your cheek. She could see she wasn't helping. She sighed, "It's gonna go good. I promise. Just tell Ethan how you feel and what you want, okay?" You took a deep breath before Anika embraced you, smelling jasmine on her clothes. It was a quick hug before she reminded you of her plans with Mindy; they were having another study date at Mindy's place, which would probably turn into a sleepover. You and Ethan would have the place to yourselves, no concerns of any interruptions. She grabbed her bag, blew you a kiss and rushed out the door, leaving you alone in the dorm.

You stood by the bathroom meekly for a few seconds, until you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. Someone was calling you, an unknown number. Should I answer? You hesitated, but let the call go to voicemail. What if it was Ghostface? What if this was a setup for you to be killed? You could be their next victim. It didn't take long for the phone to vibrate in your hand again, making you bite your lip. What was so tempting about answering an unknown caller?

The phone vibrated for the third time, but no call. The same number messaged you, and you felt relief wash over you as you saw it:

Don't freak out bunny, it's just Cason. I'm calling from a friend's phone -cason

So it's not Ghostface calling. Good. But why would Cason be trying to reach out? You thought he shut you out or forgot all about you after you refused to go on a date with him. But apparently, that wasn't the case.

You nibbled on the skin on your lip as you typed out a message:

What do you want? -you

I've been texting you for days. Did you block my number? -cason

I thought it'd be for the best -you

But I miss you. I miss our sessions. It's been really hard without Michelle yk? -cason

You sigh, leaning against the beige wall. He did seem sad when you saw him last, almost lost without his arm candy. If only you could see he was trying to replace Michelle with you, have his hand glued to your body in public, marking his territory in front of his friends. He didn't want companionship; he wanted a shiny trophy to glorify. But you were still the same naive girl, always giving others the benefit of the doubt, easily swayed.

I can't imagine how you're feeling Cason -you

Let's meet up to talk tomorrow. pls? -cason

idk cason. -you

Just as friends, bunny. I promise -cason

You promise? -you

cross my heart -cason

fine. We can meet for coffee on campus tomorrow. Is noon ok? -you

1:30. Don't be late -cason

Your stomach swirled at the conversation, filling your throat with bile. A part of you felt curious, wondering how the conversation would go tomorrow. But the rest of you felt sick. You felt dirty, like you committed a crime. What would Ethan think? Oh god. Ethan. What would he say to you about this? Would you even tell him? You had to, right? But how would he take it? That was the true question. You knew he didn't like Cason; you didn't know how deep the hatred ran, however. He was the one who convinced you to block Cason's number in the first place. And here you were: making plans to have coffee tomorrow afternoon.

30 minutes went by, so you checked the time: Ethan was late. The punctual boy himself was still not here. You yearned to focus on something, anything else. So you threw yourself in sweeping the floors, adjusting the pillows on the couch, and getting a furry white blanket for you and your boyfriend. You wanted the place to look extra nice tonight. You even made some buttery popcorn for the movie, putting them in two white bowls. You could feel yourself sweating over simple tasks, indicating the anxiety hadn't gone away or even dwindled. What if I smell bad? You immediately rushed back into the bathroom, wiping the sweat away and spraying your favorite perfume all over your body.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again. It's gonna be fine. He'll be here soon. He promised. You could feel tears welling in your eyes, but they dissipated once you heard a knocking at the door. You rushed out of your bathroom and checked through the little hole at your door who it was. You beamed at the sight of Ethan, swinging the door open to greet him with a tight embrace. He inhales your scent and let out a low groan. He missed you deeply, yearning for the past few hours to go fly by. You grab his hands and lead him inside your dorm, shutting the door behind him.

His hands find your waist. "I'm sorry I'm so late. I got caught up talking to my dad on the phone," he professed. The lie left his lips easily, and you believed it. He was getting better at this, telling you fantasies and seeing the light in your eyes spark brighter as he praised you, telling you how much he missed you. So what was the truth? The truth was simple: he was on his way to your dorm when Quinn called him with an idea:

"How about you complete this murder yourself, and I help with the body?"

"Why me? Dad ordered you to do it."

"I know, but think of how proud he'll be! You, his son, taking the initiative."

"Quinn c'mon. I really don't think Mia needs to die."

"Think of it this way: she's a threat to you and your little plaything. If Mia tells your girlfriend anything incriminating to us, she'd look at us as the killers and turn us in. You know that."

He did as Quinn suggested: he killed your classmate, Mia. One minute she was walking down the street from a coffee shop, and in a second, she was grabbed by a cloaked figure, masked under the night.

Ethan was sloppy about it; Mia struggled in her last moments. Ethan was incredibly frustrated by this; she simply didn't want to die. She clawed at his body, kicking and mustering up all the strength she could to wiggle out of his iron grasp. She dug her nails through his cloak, leaving marks on his arms. He tuned out the sound of her screams, thankful no one could hear her over the sound of traffic. He loosened his hold on her when he slashed her throat. He stood over her as she grabbed her throat, choking on her own blood. He watched the light in her brown eyes disappear.

There was something about all that blood, the way a pool formed underneath her corpse. It made a striking resemblance to paint; he liked to paint, once upon a time. Well, he liked to watch his mother paint. He found it entrancing. As a child, he'd sit at the dinner table with construction paper and Crayola paint, mimicking his mother's stroke movements on her canvas.

"I was getting worried that you weren't coming," your words come out in a whisper. Ethan could see you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. A part of him wanted to pull on that lip with his teeth, tugging it, maybe even biting down hard enough to draw blood.

"Well I'm here now," he whispered to you before kissing your right cheek. Your face heats up as he lets go of you, walking over to the couch. He spots the bowls of popcorn and smiles.

"So have you decided what you wanna watch?"

"Yeah! I still wanna watch a scary movie, so I was thinking we could watch The Conjuring!" you suggested.

"Just the first one? Or do you wanna watch all three?"

"We can start with the first one and go from there," you grab the remote to turn on the TV. Ethan slipped his backpack off and set it behind the couch. Ethan rushed to your dorm after the fresh kill, shoving his Ghostface attire inside the bag. He didn't leave a Ghostfack mask at the scene, letting it slip his mind. Since it was unlike the other kills him and his family did, he hoped the police would look elsewhere, thinking another copycat was out there. Right? He pushed the thoughts aside and plopped down on the couch, adjusting his Friday the 13th black graphic shirt.

He decided to wear something more casual, sporting a shirt he wore around his dorm. He had plenty of other horror graphic shirts like Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Terrifier, and so much more. He didn’t think much of his outfit until you sat beside him on the brown couch. You two looked like total opposites. He liked that though; he couldn’t get over your outfit. The tank top made your tits look amazing, just ready to groped and sucked. But he was getting ahead of himself. Focus on the TV, Ethan.

As the movie began to progress, you found yourself gnawing on your lip. You nuzzled against him, feeling his hand rub your right hip. You had a white blanket over the two of you. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his body rise and fall with every breath. His body radiated heat, inviting you to move closer. As a jump scare appeared on screen, you gripped his shirt on his chest out of impulse. You could feel his heartbeat picking up faster at your touch, making your face feel warm.

The two of you hadn’t done much talking since the movie started. Anytime you felt the urge to speak, you bit your tongue. You felt guilty, as if you were keeping a secret from him. It’s not like you had feelings for Cason. But you knew Ethan didn’t like him. You knew he’d be upset with you.

Ethan could sense your uneasiness. “What’s wrong?” He asked. You lifted your head up and stared into his brown eyes. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You couldn’t bear to tell him about Cason; you guys were doing so well already and didn’t want to have your first argument. After all, the relationship started only a couple days ago.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you lied. Ethan grinned, lifting his hand from your hip to cup your cheek and squeeze it. You laughed at the feeling, pushing his hand away playfully. You think he’ll put his hand back where it was, but he doesn’t. He places it on your left thigh instead, causing your breath to hitch. His attention was directed towards the TV, but his brain was not registering anything. He touched you with lustful intentions, but now he was frozen. Despite always imagining you in crazy positions, crying and moaning like a pornstar, he never acted. Again, this was the boy who never kissed a girl before you, let alone hold hands with another girl that wasn't related to him.

He had gotten so used to watching you through the hidden camera in your room, jerking off with your lacy panties he stole from your dresser. He watched you undress and play with yourself, even if you did it under your covers. His imagination came in to help, trying to picture your naked body the best he could without ever seeing it. He couldn't believe he didn't think of doing this the moment he met you. What changed? Was it the thrill of the killings? The chase? The idea you were a doll? Maybe a puppet he wanted to control? He didn't understand, but didn't want to think further. Killing should be the farthest thing on his mind right now.

"Ethan, do you want to sleep with me?" Your meek voice brought him out of his head. He practically whipped his head in your direction.

"What?" He took his hand off your thigh immediately, his cheeks becoming crimson red. You lift your head off his shoulder. "Just be honest with me, E." For a moment, the two of you just stared into each other's eyes as the movie played in the background. Ethan could barely form a thought, let alone speak. You thought you made him uncomfortable, immediately averting your eyes and looking down at your lap.

"Forget I said anything. It was a stupid question," you mumbled.

"Do you wanna sleep with me?" Ethan asked.

"I mean...it's crossed my mind. I've just..I've never.." you trailed off, feeling embarrassed. His eyes were like saucers; he couldn't believe it. You were a virgin like him? His cock throbbed in his pants at the realization.

"You've never had sex?"

"No. It's crazy, huh?"

"No! I mean, I just didn't realize you were...like me." You finally looked at him as it sinks in: he was a virgin too. Truth be told, you weren't surprised. But you wouldn't tell him that, of course.

"I mean I've done things, some things. I just haven't done that," you awkwardly laughed. His hand finds yours under the blanket, rubbing the skin of your hand. "What kinds of things?" His interest was reaching its peak more and more.

"Well, I've had a boyfriend. In high school. I gave him a handjob, and he fingered me. But we never got past that," you stated.

"Did you just never feel ready to have sex with him?"

"Pretty much. I didn't feel safe and comfortable enough around him to get to that point, and he hated that. We got into arguments over it, and he'd try to pressure me." The memory of him trying to push you down to his crotch, wanting you to give him head, it made you sick.

"Did he threaten you?" Ethan asked, his eyes growing dark.

"Yeah. Once. He threatened to break up with me, so I broke up with him. Ever since then, I've just been hesitant." Ethan's heart ached at the thought of someone hurting you like that. He wished he met you sooner. He could've taken this ex of yours out of the picture permanently, saving you like you were his princess and he was your knight in shining armor. He let go of your hand to caress your face, noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. He pulled you into his lap, embracing you tightly. You could feel his lips brush over your temple and then your ear as he whispered sweet things to you:

"You don't deserve that."

"You're a sweet girl."

"You're my sweet thing."

" I'll never hurt you."

I'll never hurt you. Those words echoed in your head, wishing you had heard that in high school. Why couldn't you have met Ethan in high school? You would've had the biggest crush on him from the start. The tears fell down your cheeks, and you tried to rub them away. Ethan pushed your hands, rubbing the tears away for you. Don't cry, pretty thing. I'll make you feel better. Wouldn't you like that?

Your hands rested on his chest as he admired your teary-eyed face. Your bottom lip jutted out as you pouted, feeling slightly embarrassed for crying in front of your boyfriend. He dragged his thumb across your lip, starting to lean closer. Your noses bumped against each other for only a second, until he planted a soft kiss on your lips. You kissed him back, feeling his tongue brush against your lip. You let out a small moan, letting his tongue enter your mouth and explore. Ethan's nails dug into your back as you grind in his lap, right on his cock. He stifled a moan until you moaned into his mouth at the friction. He pulled from your lips and kissed down your neck, feeling your hands dig into his brown curls. He let out an unapologetic whine at the pain, the noise going straight to your pussy. You were incredibly startled by his behavior, but you loved it. It fed the hunger growing in your lower stomach, and you wanted more. You missed the feeling of his lips on yours already, so you brought his face back up to yours and kissed him desperately.

His bulge hit your clit just the right way, making you jolt and pull on his scalp more. His hips bucked up, making you moan in each other’s mouths. 

“I want more, Ethan. I need it. I need you,” you begged. Ethan could barely contain his emotions. You want me? I’ll give you all of me right now. I’ll press you against the window for all of New York to see. 

“Can we move this to your room? Wanna make you comfortable,” he suggested. You nodded; Ethan wasted no time picking you up and making you squeal. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you across the apartment to your bedroom, letting the smell of vanilla hit you both. He placed you on your bed, rushing to shut the door. He double-checked the window, making sure the white curtains shrouded curious eyes. He glanced at the hidden camera, noticing the lens immediately. He’d remember to watch the footage from tonight on repeat, moaning into your stolen panties with his hand down his boxers.

Ethan turned around, noticing the nervous expression on your face. It made his heart race, knowing you felt the same as him. He walked across your room, standing in between your legs. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before kissing you. You grabbed the waistband of your pajama pants, sliding them off your body. Ethan kicked them aside, getting ready to take your top off. You instantly grabbed his hands, stopping him from lifting your tank top. He looked into your eyes, waiting for a response.

“Not yet.” That was all he needed to hear, moving his attention to your soaked panties. He pressed a finger to your clothed pussy, dragging it all the way up to your clit. You quivered at the feeling; you never noticed how big his hands were. 

“Can I feel you around my fingers, pretty? Would that make you feel good?” He asked with honey in his voice. 

“Yes.” You let a breath you didn’t realize you were holding as he climbed onto the bed, making you back up against your pillow. He crawled in between your legs, slowly pulling your panties off. He kissed you again, not getting enough of the taste of your lips. One of his hands began to play with your clit while the other groped one of your tits. Your breathing became heavy as the kissing continued, struggling to catch your breath. You bucked your hips up as his hand traveled lower, slipping a finger inside. You could barely sit still; you needed more friction. You grind into his hand, gripping his hair and cupping his cheek. He finally broke the kiss, something you both needed. He let out a breathy laugh, realizing he could’ve passed out. Not that he would care; he’d die happy knowing the last thing he felt was your lips and your pussy clenching around his finger.

He slipped another finger inside, aiming to curl them and go deeper. You moaned at the feeling, pulling his hair harder. Ethan lowered his head to pepper your collarbones with wet kisses, moaning against your skin. Do I have a pain kink? What’s up with me? 

“Can you go faster, E? Just a little? Please?” Your voice was high, almost cracking on the last question. He did as you asked. Afterall, how could he not? He wanted to please you, make you feel as good as he did when he touched himself to the thought of you. Your back arched at the change of pace, and you let go of him to touch your chest. You squeezed your tits, playing with your nipples through the fabric of your top. Ethan couldn’t take his eyes off the sight; he wanted to rip the last piece of clothing off your body and leave hickeys on your tits.

“Does this feel good for you, pretty? Am I doing good for you? You’re doing so good for me, soaking my fingers so much.” Ethan began to vomit up praises, not leaving any time for you to speak. Your moans fueled his obsession with you, and he could barely hold himself together. He moaned with you, rutting his hips against your bed. 

“Fuck I love this. I needed this. I need your pussy so bad, it’s killing me. Are you close? What else do you want from me?” You let go of your tits to touch his face, lifting it up to stare into his brown eyes.

“I wanna see you E. I wanna take your clothes off. Please let me,” you whined. He took his fingers out slowly, making you ache inside. You sat up, kissing him with your hands on his chest. He gripped your waist, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood. You jolted and broke the kiss to rub your bloodied lip, surprised by the action. He didn’t even apologize to you for it; he took the opportunity to take his black graphic shirt off. You deeply exhaled at the sight of his abs, surprised at the muscles. Does he work out? Since when? Where have these been? You dragged your hands down his body, touching his chest and stomach. The faint happy trail made you lick your lips, ready to explore the wonders of your boyfriend’s body. You looked up at him innocently as you palmed him through his pants, watching the redness in his face grow more apparent.

“You feel so big E. You’ll be gentle with me, right? Give me a good first time?” You experimented with the dirty talking, not wanting to be completely shy and flustered around him. Ethan closed his eyes, enjoying the way your hand rubbed his shaft.

“I’ll do anything you ask. You say jump, I’ll ask how high. I promise.” 

“Really? Are you that devoted to me?” you teased. Ethan let out a shaky breath as your hands fumbled with his jeans. You have no idea. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled the zipper down, seeing his black boxers peek through. You pull his pants down his thighs, letting him do the rest. He yanked the blue jeans off and chucked them with the other clothes, starting to feel chilly. Now I see why you kept your top on. He walked close to you and pulled his boxers down in front of your face, watching your eyes become enamored with the sight of his cock. It sprang free from his boxers, strained and hard. It was painful, begging for release. But he knew he’d get it. The two of you pull the covers down before getting situated with positions. He climbed onto the bed, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“You still wanna keep this on? Or you want me to take it off?”

“Take it off me. I’m ready, Ethan.” Yet again, he tore the fabric off and threw it behind him with excitement. He hovered over you with covers draping the two of you, staring at your tits. You pull him into another kiss, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your body. That’s going inside me? Holy fuck. I’ve got this. I’ve totally got this. He looked down at your pussy, cock in hand, trying to prepare himself for the overstimulation that would cum. He knew he wouldn’t last long. He was so close to cumming, he could probably cum a second time.

He looked into your eyes, as if for permission. You nodded, holding onto his arms anxiously. He looked back at his cock, rubbing his tip up and down your pussy with his bottom lip in between his teeth. He teased your hole, trying to get a feel for it. You whined, mumbling his name.

“Fuck I know. I know, pretty girl.” He braced himself, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You cried out, gripping his back in pain. The stretch was unlike anything you ever felt, making your eyes start to water. Despite Ethan going slow, the pain was barely bearable. You dug your nails into his skin, trying to take deep breaths and ignore the burn. Ethan finally bottomed out, pressing on your stomach to add more stimulation on himself.

“H-holy shit,” he stuttered. He kissed the tears on your face, holding you in a tight embrace. “Tell me when I can move, sweet girl.” You panted heavily, your body feeling hot against his and the sheets. Despite the pain and the tears, he was so supportive. What did I do to deserve a boy like you? You looked at the way his cock disappeared inside you, still wincing from the pain. You knew you couldn’t stay still like this forever; the pain would eventually pass. You just had to work through it together.

“Okay. I’m all yours,” you smiled softly as you braced yourself. Ethan rested his forehead against yours, finally moving his hips against your body. The sound of his cock going in and out of your wet pussy filled his ears as he watched your expressions change. Your eyes were squeezed shut and your mouth was slightly agape. The bed squeaked underneath you, despite the slow pace. You hated that about your bed. Even when you touched yourself, rocking against your fingers, the bed squeaked and creaked. If he fucks me harder, the bed will be so loud! My neighbors are gonna hate me. 

“Say that again,” he murmured.

“Hm?”

“Say you’re all mine. Tell me again. I wanna hear it.” His thrusts were deep, still keeping the same painfully slow pace. His arms rested beside both sides of your head, gripping the pillow you were laying on. He shut his eyes, getting lost in the feeling of your walls throbbing around his cock. “Please say it again.”

“I’m yours, Ethan. I’m all yours,” you professed. You gasped at the snap of his hips hitting you. “Oh shit.” 

“Fuck you feel so good, squeezing me like that. How do you feel? You feel good?” He picked up his pace, the creaking of the bed becoming on beat with every moan you let out. You couldn’t speak anymore, too focused on the pain that was finally subsiding. His cock felt so good inside, brushing the spot you could never reach. You felt thankful Anika went to spend time with Mindy, knowing you would never survive the embarrassment of getting caught having Ethan in your bed like this. Ethan wouldn’t either; he’d turn into a tomato and avoid Anika at all costs if that happened.

“Feel so good you can’t even talk to me? Is that it, pretty girl? My sweet, dumb thing?” The nicknames always stuck to you, making your stomach flutter. But now you were on the verge of cumming, squeezing his cock so tight. He buried his face into your neck, biting down on your skin as he felt himself get close. He was surprised he lasted this long. He genuinely thought he’d only get through two thrusts before spraying your insides with cum. But he needed to pull out. He didn’t want to deal with pregnancy scares, not right now. While the image of filling your stomach with his seed drove him wild, you two were young and inexperienced. Well, not totally inexperienced. Not anymore.

As you powered through your orgasm, you cried into his ear as he thrusted into you, not stopping his deep strokes. Your nails dug into his skin so far you left scratch marks, red and long. If Ethan worked out with Chad tomorrow, he’d definitely get hounded with questions. But Ethan was liking the idea of being marked by you. It was a sense of ownership, that he was yours and you were his.

And he had no plans of letting you go. He got this far; there was no stopping him, not even as he pulled out of your pussy and sloppily stroked himself. He thrusted into his hand a couple times before cumming on your chest, watching as some of it hit your neck. You looked completely fucked out, exhausted. He was too, craving to collapse on top of you and sleep through the night. But he wouldn’t leave you in a mess. He’d never do that to his little plaything.

Taglist: @ssnapsaurus @nowitsmissing @ch9mpi0n @c0untryclub @stabmemaybe @applelovesposts @x2yuno @the-sylver-dragon @pleasingpetal @cassytkr

[gunthermunch]

[Transcript under the cut]

Max: Billie Billie: shhh Michel Cera is about to say he’s gotta pee on her Michael Cera: I gotta pee on her Billie: aahaha! Max: I suggested Scott Pilgrim once and now it’s all we watch Billie: you should’ve suggested something less good then Billie: oh this reminds me! What did Elsa say that left you so emotionally distraught the other night Max: …how did ‘’I gotta pee on her’’ lead to that Max: sigh She made an excel sheet to help me pick a guy to date. Because she thinks that’s what I should do instead of whatever I’m doing right now Billie: oh my gosh Max: I know, she’s sick Billie: she’s a GENIUS! Max: what Billie: Max! you NEED to get a boyfriend! Max: I said DATES I- Is it that bad to prefer one night stands?? Billie: it’s not about the one night stands, it’s about you! Max: that makes it even worse. Billie: I mean, there has to be a reason you don’t contact those guys after fucking around, right? Right?? Do you GET it!!! Max: …I’m not letting an e-dater question my love life?? Billie: I’m just saying, Max! if I was you I would totally think about it. and do it. Because it could help me out. Just go on some dates and experience something different from what you’re used to Michel Cera: You once were a ve-gone, but now you will begone. Max: christ.

Ale: Maximiliano! I was just wondering ''what could that gorgeous little imp be up to tonight'' so WHAT have you been up to?! Ale: it’s rhetoric, I really don’t wanna know haha! Max: hey uh… yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry about that. I swear I really wanted to text you Ale: you don’t say Max: I’m trying to be honest you moron Ale: ooh. oh. can we leave it for some other time? Over some brunch maybe? My girlfriend is here Max: excuse me Jackie: hi Max! I’m Jackie. Big fan! Ale: she means that Max: I’m sorry when did you get one of those? Jackie: he’s so funny Ale: like a week ago. Ain’t she adorable? Max: oh yes she’s a sweetie. Totes. Ale: i think you two would adore each other, for real Ale: anyways! What have you been up to? Hangin’ there?

Billie: he’s with child Max: he’s with WOMAN Max: how- WHY didn’t he tell me?! We were JUST seeing each other a a couple months ago Billie: BABE babe calm down. Why did you call him anyways? Max: because he was head first on Elsa’s sheet, now I’ll need to phone this OTHER dickhead that meets most of my standards and I kinda have a thing for. Stupid fucking Jackie I hope you die Billie: hey… let’s detox. Take my word, no more men for the rest of the week. Max: no more men. You. Billie: If there’s something I love more than Pierce, is my hunger for sistership Max: you know I’m not a woman right Billie: No boys, only us. And Michael Cera. Max: … Billie: trust me, I’m your girl.

[cinewhore]

The Only Exception

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x fem!reader

read extended cut here [x]

Word Count: 2.6k 

Warnings: mentions of drinking, toxic family dynamics, smut 18+ (groping, male receiving oral, penetration, unprotected sex, facial cumshot). fluff and some angst! 

A/N: girlies, the whore jumped out! Takes place during episode 6 season 2. Credit to the gif creator! I hope y’all enjoy it. 

Nothing ever goes smoothly with the Berzatto’s.

Why you thought this holiday dinner was going to be any different was beyond any rational comprehension.

Trying not to be a complete klutz and ruin the side dish you’ve been working on the entire day, you delicately balance it in your left hand while adjusting your scarf tighter around your neck with your right. Putting a pep in your step, you round the corner from where you parked, spotting the stoop instantly.

It was a rare sighting to see all three of the Berzatto siblings together. With Carmy being away at culinary school, Mikey doing his own thing with the restaurant and Natalie living her life, one person always missed the other. It warmed your heart to see just how much they cared about each other, even if they didn’t show it in a normal or healthy way.

“Is that who I think it is?” Mikey’s voice booms over the light traffic passing by, handing Carmy the cigarette he was puffing on.

You crack a smile, despite it feeling like your lips were stuck together due to the cold weather. “Sorry, I’m a bit late. Fuckin’ cat had my keys.”

“How many times did I tell you to get rid of the cat?” Mikey leans down to kiss you but you turn your head, forcing him to peck you on the cheek instead.

“C’mon, baby.” he drawls, throwing you a bashful smile.

You huff out a sigh, lowering your voice. “You know I hate the smoking.”

Mikey nods, face fading into something serious before vanishing. “I know you do. You didn’t bring fish, did you?”

Side-stepping the tall Berzatto, you get pulled into a hug by Natalie, followed by Carmen.

“Hello, gorgeous! It’s so good to see you!” Natalie kisses you on both cheeks before making the move to grab the dish out of your hands. You pull back, shooting her a look.

“Nat, please. I got it.”

“Are you sure?” you watch as her bottom lip quivers a bit. You steal a glance at Carmy, who just shakes his head.

“Fuck. How bad is it?” you gaze at the disheveled trio, awaiting an answer.

Finally, Mikey breaks the silence.

“It’s at a five. Six, at best.”

You lick your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. “That’s not too bad, right?”

“Right.” Carmy agrees, with Natalie humming in agreement.

“Just don’t fucking ask if she’s doing ok.” Mikey glimpses at his sister, placing hand on your lower back to guide you into the house.

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose, plastering a smile on your face before entering the shit show.

You’d only been there an hour and you were called the wrong name three times, objectified, cursed at and now Fak was trying to get you to put up five hundred dollars for baseball cards.

Listening with great intent, nodding at all the right times and twirling the wine glass in your hands desperately wanting to get another refill had your social energy spent.

“We could make you a lot of money, cousin.” Fak goes on, nudging his brother for support.

“Yeah-yeah! Think about what you could do with fifteen hundred bucks! Cold hard cash!” the lookalike chimes in.

“Wow, no, yeah this-this sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.” you murmur. Don’t take it the wrong way, you loved Fak. His personality was infectious, you’ve never seen him get overly angry despite the other guys giving him shit constantly and he genuinely goes out of his way to help everyone. Back when you first started dating Mikey and moved apartments in the city, Fak volunteered to make sure your place was in tiptoe shape and refused payment.

Just then Steve, Michelle’s husband, passes by and you seize your opportunity.

“Steve! How are you?” you beckon him over, scooting over on the tiny couch so he could sit beside you.

“Ah, yes. Mikey’s girl who we aren’t sure how he managed to snag. Good to see you again.”

You brush off his comment with a tired smile, gesturing to Fak and his brother. “So, these guys have a proposition for you, right?”

You nod enthusiastically with them, giving Fak a secret wink.

“Oh, yes! Yes! Do you like baseball cards, Steve?”

“On that note,” you stand up and maneuver yourself out the nook. “I’m gonna go get a refill. Leave you gentlemen to handle business.”

Mocking a military salute, you dash towards the kitchen bypassing other members of the family.

Donna flurries around the kitchen, shouting instructions to no one in particular. You didn’t greet her as soon as you came in, knowing how she gets around this time of the year. To be honest, you were sure that she didn’t exactly like you.

“Donna, my goodness! You look wonderful.” you lay the complement on sweetly, smiling brightly. If you don’t wilt in her presence, she wouldn’t be able to smell the fear on you.

Donna swivels her head to look at you, cigarette dangling from her lipstick smeared lips. Eyes lined in thick mascara, her disapproving expression ripples through you. You smile wider.

“I brought over a little casserole. I figured it would compliment the fish nicely.”

Shifting to face you fully, Donna crosses her arms. “Casserole? What casserole?”

You point to the tin foiled dish. “That one. Mikey brought in, did he not tell you?”

She scoffs. “Yeah, just like he told me about him breaking things off with what’s her name.”

“Anna.” you mutter, swallowing the lump that quietly made its way up your throat.

“Yeah, Anna.” Donna turns back to the task at hand, haphazardly swinging a knife about. “I liked her better.”

Forgoing your much desired glass of wine, you stalk out of the kitchen. On the outside looking in, the Berzatto’s appeared to be your average family. The warm glow of the lights shining out into the frost covered sidewalks invited you in all those years ago and once inside, you then realized why people were so hesitant to accept invites or why Mikey refused to bring up his past.

You didn’t have this growing up. Your family life was much quieter, mom and dad both kept to themselves. Distant cousins never visited for the holidays and you were an only child so there weren’t any siblings to fall back on.

It was boring.

Drove you crazy.

So when the Berzatto’s welcomed you in with open arms (well, some of them) you threw yourselves to the wolves willingly. It helped you grow a thick skin, talk over people and man handle the biggest guys in the room. For that, you were thankful.

A hand reaches out and grabs your wrist, dragging you away from everyone and up the stairs. Mikey is headstrong in his quest to get you alone, not caring to see if you were keeping up the pace. You both stagger inside his room, the door shut soundly behind you, followed by the lock turning.

Mikey doesn’t give you a second to react, mouth leaving open tongued kisses along your jaw and collarbone, hands working at tugging up your skirt.

“Mikey, baby, baby, wait-” you plead, backing up to create space between the two of you.

He flops onto the bed, hands on his knees, fingers raking through his hair again and again.

You’re careful as you sit next to him, scratching your own fingers along the center of his back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” is all he utters.

“Bullshit. Talk to me.”

He doesn’t have to say anything else, you get it. The party continues below you both, profanities and insults flying like it's nobody's business. It was too much. For Mikey, Camry, anyone. The more time you spent with his family, the more you realized why Carmen never came back to visit. Why Michelle skipped out of town and up to New York. Anything to keep the family an arms distance away. 

Why Mikey feels trapped.

“I know.” you whisper against his shoulder, mouth pressing in tiny kisses. You lift his head up with both of your hands, cradling his face gingerly. The tiredness exudes for nearly every crevice, eye bags worn and solidified. You use your thumb to smooth out his forehead, laughing softly when he wrinkles it more.

“You’ll always have me, Berzatto.”

“I don’t deserve you. Never did.”

You tut. “That’s not true. You’ve always had me. From the moment you sold me that greasy, sloppy sandwich down at The Beef. I was a goner.”

Mikey chuckles, leaning into your hands more. “I got you something.”

Your eyes go wide, brows forming a skeptical look. “Is that so?”

Mikey flickers his eyes down to his pants and you scoff.

“Wow, Michael. Are you gifting me your penis? Again? I must’ve been too nice this year.” you gently slap his face in mock anger.

“Haha,” he deadpans. “Try my pockets, detective wiseass.”

You let go of his face and rummage through his pants pocket, producing a ball of torn tissue paper, kept together by a single piece of tape. Confused but curious, you unwrap the gift, facing dropping as your eyes find his.

The tissue tumbles to the ground, revealing a necklace. At the bottom of it dangled a charm of…cheese?

“I remember the first day you came into the shop. Like a goddamn bat outta hell. Never seen anything like it. You ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and asked for, um, what was it?”

“Havarti-”

That’s right! Fuckin’ havarti cheese! What the hell even is that?”

“How do you own a sandwich shop and not provide a variety of cheeses, I don’t understand it.”

Mikey gawks at you. “Babe, we’re called The Beef. Not the cheese. But you wanna know what I did?”

You encourage him to finish, as if you didn’t know the rest of the story.

“I told you to wait and-and I was gonna go check in the back. I booked it out of the back door, all the way down to Malik’s corner store and bought the most expensive cheese he had. I rush back to the shop and guess what?”

“You made the sandwich.”

Mikey’s face cracks into the biggest grin you’d ever seen, eyes crinkled at the corners. “I made the goddamn sandwich. Brought it out to you myself. Told you that we didn’t serve grilled cheese but for you, I’d make an exception.”

Your eyes well over in tears and you blink rapidly to keep them from falling. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone has done for me, ya know.”

“You’re telling me all I had to do was buy you some cheese to get in your pants? Hot damn.”

You playfully shove Mikey back against the bed, crawling over to straddle him. “Well, it worked after a while, didn’t it?”

Mikey thrusts upwards, growing erection sliding against your damp underwear.

“It sure did.”

He grabs the back of your neck, surging up to slot his mouth against yours. You aren’t delicate in the way you claw at him, nails digging into his tanned flesh. Pushing up your skirt, Mikey palms your ass, stroking it before landing a hard smack against it. You moan into his neck, biting down.

“Perkiest ass I’ve ever seen, baby, shit.” Mikey groans, voice an octave deeper.

“And it’s yours. All yours.”

Mikey secures the back of your head as he flips the two of you over, pushing you down on your stomach. You do the rest of the work for him, sticking your ass up, and curving your back into an arch.

Mikey readily pulls down the zipper of his pants, hands readjusting his briefs until he is able to free himself. Spitting obscenely in his palm, Mikey shoves your panties to the side and rubs his saliva across your slickness. You buck back into him, whimpering when he graces you with a lone finger to loosen you up. You whine and wiggle your ass some more, ready to receive all that he was going to give you.

“Gonna give my baby what she wants, don’t you worry.” Mikey purrs, aligning himself to enter you. He slides in easily, the strained sigh as he fully situates him inside you never ceasing to make you wetter.

You pull yourself up so that you were resting on your hands, peeking over your shoulder to catch a gaze at Mikey as you begin to fuck him. He was enthralled at the sight of his cock pumping in and out of you, the way you were able to handle him without saying a single word.

He would love to take his time and thoroughly explore your cunt but time is of the essence. Wrapping his right hand around your neck once again, he yanks you up into a deeper arch, left hand on your hip in a deathgrip. He meets your thrusts with his own, dropping his left leg down on the floor to gain some balance.

Between the familial bickering creeping up the stairs, all that could be heard was the squelching of your pussy and the labored breathing of Mikey, muffled praises spurring you on further.

He slaps your ass again and you tighten around him, eyes rolling to the top of your head as you attempt to hold onto his arms for dear life.

“Mikey, oh fucking god, baby you’re gonna make me come so hard. Please, please, please!”

He answers you by sticking his fingers in your mouth and you automatically clamp down on them, sucking and gagging until spit dribbles down the side of your mouth.

Mikey picks up speed and the coil inside you breaks as you reach your peak, legs stiffening as you rear back against Mikey. He continues to fuck you, albeit at a slower tempo, humming as you spasm against him.

“That’s my girl, my favorite fucking girl. Where do you want mine, huh? Tell me where you want it.”

He removes his fingers and lets them trail down to tease and pick at your hardened nipples that now poke through your shirt.

“I wanna taste. Want it in my mouth.”

“Fuck.” Mikey lets you go and you catch yourself before you fall completely face first into the bed.

“Get on your knees, now.”

You do as you're told, scurrying to position yourself on your knees in front of Mikey. Mouth open and head tilted back, you let a hand caress your breast as the other slithers up his thigh.

Mikey is affectionate as he goes to grab the back of your head, other hand tirelessly stroking his cock. A vein pops out of forehead as he grunts, a few milky droplets coating your face, before steady ropes accompany it. A few of them land in your mouth and you swallow it all eagerly.

Mikey tries to calm his breathing, watching you with hooded eyes as you lick at the tip of his cock, cleaning up the remnants of yourself off of him. You take him down all the way to the shaft for shits and giggles, pulling off of him with a low pop.

“Goddamn devil.”

You wink, swiping at the mess you could feel dripping on your face. Mikey helps to clean you up, both fixing each other’s clothes to appear less wrinkled. Seemingly ok with your appearance, you start to head downstairs but Mikey stops you.

He steps behind you, lifting up the necklace he got you. He fastens it, walking to your front to admire it.

You grab his hand and bring it to your mouth for a kiss.

“It’s you and me, Berzatto.”

“You and me.”

Exhaling heavily, you open the door to reenter the Berzatto family chaos, a new found confidence lighting your path.

[leclerc-s]

paint the town red - part ten

THE GREAT ADMIN WAR

series masterlist

HUNGARY 2024

charles leclerc i'm sorry seb! you can't be mad at me.

sebastian vettel charles, you told the internet i had a crush on mark

charles leclerc but you did?

carlos sainz and you told them about his almost make-out with max.

ollie bearman we all saw that coming. i was around for mexico last year.

tony stark are you sleeping with the enemy leclerc?

charles leclerc no.

harley keener oh boy wait until this guy finds out who he is sleeping with

charles leclerc shut your fucking mouth keener!

tony stark i promised pepper i would stop being annoying

arthur leclerc WAIT- IS HE- OH MY GOD!

tony stark WHAT THE HELL DID YOU GET FROM THAT?

ollie bearman OH MY GOD! HOW IS HE THE GENIUS?

bianca stark-potts oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.

biancastark_potts posted new stories

me & bae

for context, this is what he sent me at 7:30 in the morning.

carol danvers added one person

wanda maximoff so he's bae now?

bianca stark-potts no? yelena belova she loooves him

kamala khan oh my god this is the best day of my life.

yelena belova that is a child.

carol danvers kamala is not a child.

queen shuri how old is she?

kamala khan i'm 16!

riri williams by the way, who's bianca seeing?

queen shuri charles

riri williams HER DRIVER?

natasha romanoff now that i think about he is exactly her type.

pepper potts goofy? michelle jones will most likely blush when she calls him a pet name? wanda maximoff flirts with his childhood rival? queen shuri green eyes? natasha romanoff exactly.

bianca stark-potts when have i ever dated someone like him?

yelena belova SO YOU ARE DATING?!

bianca stark-potts NO STOP IT!

kamala khan but she likes him!

bianca stark-potts WHO LET THE CHILD IN HERE?

carol danvers i have never been this interested in someone's love life before.

kamala khan that's because you were in space for the longest time and are now dating an asgardian. carol danvers KAMALA! kamala khan i'm getting the feeling that no one knew that.

natasha romanoff WHAT? WHO?

bianca stark-potts 10 bucks it's valkyrie

carlos danvers 10 bucks bianca's dating charles but won't admit it because she's afraid that natasha and wanda will do what they did last time.

wanda maximoff it was something perfectly normal to do.

bianca stark-potts YOU BROKE INTO HIS HOUSE! natasha romanoff and he ended up cheating on you so really, no regrets.

michelle jones does charles know that harry was the one who gave you the dog? the same dog who loves charles very much and that charles adores?

kate bishop OSBORN?

bianca stark-potts not my brightest moment

kate bishop EVERYONE KNOWS OSBORN IS THE BIGGEST DICKHEAD AROUND!!

bianca stark-potts HE WASN'T A DICKHEAD WHEN WE FIRST STARTED DATING!!

kate bishop HE'S ALWAYS BEEN A DICKHEAD! HE JUST TRICKED YOU!

peter parker heeyy, guess what i just found out talking to red bull's media admin.

isaiah atkins peter if this another genius idea to wage war against the other teams i will tie you against our hospitality.

peter parker that is aggressive. but no bianca's going to hate this.

harley keener oh this is gonna be good.

peter parker guess who red bull invited to the next gp.

tony stark oh no. bianca stark-potts i knew this was going to bite me in the ass when carol brought him up.

charles leclerc what are we talking about?

harley keener oh boy, i can't wait to see how this one will go down.

bianca stark-potts HARLEY SHUT THE FUCK UP!

tony stark seriously hungary of all places? why not miami or monaco? hell texas or vegas would be a better place.

tony stark can't believe the dickhead said yes.

sebastian vettel what the hell is he upset about now?

peter parker oh it's great, bianca's ex boyfriend is attending the hungarian grand prix with red bull. peter parker the same one who gave her the dog we all know and love

bianca stark-potts PETER!!

ollie bearman i thought you said a friend gave you that?

harley keener oh it gets better. he asked her out with the dog as a gift.

charles leclerc oh.

charles leclerc would you look at that i suddenly have something to do with my brother.

arthur leclerc we do? charles leclerc yes we do

tony stark what's wrong with him?

sebastian vettel how do you not get it?

peter parker i'm also confused.

ollie bearman you're both hopeless.

ex-boyfriend huh?

harry and i dated but i never brought him up because he cheated on me. it's just- it's not important

he gave you a dog when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

i asked you out using a lightning mcqueen meme that you posted on your story.

and it was very adorable charles. i wouldn't change it for the world.

i'm not asking for you to do extravagant things like harry did. usually when he did them it meant he was cheating on me again.

a dog is not extravagant.

and what do you mean again?

it happened like four or five times each time with the same girl. the only reason i found out was because nat and wanda broke into his apartment.

they won’t do that to me right?

they might?

my apartment is a mess! they can’t break in with it like that!

glad to know those are your priorities.

are you kidding me, it’s black widow and the scarlet witch, they can’t see my messy apartment!

charles, it'll be fine. i doubt they'll break into your apartment.

but if they do?

they won't.

what if they do?

i'll talk to them.

bianca stark-potts

kamala khan that's so adorable.

michelle jones and they call this man a terror?

yelena belova he was a terror. i've seen the videos

natasha romanoff now i want to break into his apartment to see how messy it is.

wanda maximoff this is all the confirmation i needed to know that they are dating.

maria hill she warned him about you two breaking into his apartment. they're dating.

queen shuri i can't wait to see tony lose his shit over this.

riri williams i can should've seen this coming. he's exactly her type. america chavez you've been around less than me HOW DO YOU KNOW HER TYPE? riri williams i read the groupchat america!

hope van dyne i was in a meeting what did i miss?

hope van dyne OH MY GOD!! SCOTT OWES ME SO MUCH MONEY!!

bianca stark-potts YOU BET ON ME?

hope van dyne we bet that you would end up with a driver and we were right! scott thought it would be logan or lando. my money was on verstappen or charles.

alex albon all those in favor of max releasing the mad dutchman on this osborn guy

max verstappen why would i do that?

lando norris isn't it obvious? because she's dating the platonic love of your life

pierre gasly he's the platonic love of my life! yuki tsunoda do i mean nothing to you? pierre gasly yuki, no, it's not what it looks like!

george russell max just do as we ask! take him out!

oscar piastri as a date or murder? lando norris either works.

lando norris notice how he didn't argue that charles is the platonic love of his life.

max verstappen charles is not the platonic love of my life. it's daniel.

daniel ricciardo i'll take him out. i'll do it for vegas 2019!

charles leclerc NO! NO ONE TAKE HIM OUT!

charles leclerc WHAT'S THE FASTEST WAY TO CLEAN A MESSY APARTMENT?

pierre gasly WE'RE IN HUNGARY YOU IDIOT!

charles leclerc I AM IN DANGER OF IT GETTING BROKEN IN BY BLACK WIDOW AND THE SCARLET WITCH!! SOS!!

george russell WHY WOULD THEY DO THAT?

carlos sainz according to harley it's ritual to do with all of bianca's boyfriends.

max verstappen wait what does that have to do with harry?

charles leclerc oh so he's harry now? max verstappen christian said i have to be nice to him. something about him being some good investor but i couldn't care less charles leclerc take him out. max verstappen and why should i do that charles? charles leclerc ARE YOU KIDDING ME VERSTAPPEN!! HE- YOU KNOW- HE CHEATED ON BIANCA!! max verstappen and why is that important charlie? charles leclerc THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND YOU IDIOT! THAT'S WHY!

max verstappen BOOM! I WIN! PAY UP LOSERS!

pierre gasly NO YOU CALLED HIM CHARLIE! YOU CHEATED!

max verstappen I TOLD YOU LOSERS I COULD GET HIM TO CONFIRM THAT THEY WERE DATING!

charles leclerc YOU MADE A BET ON ME?

carlos sainz it's not fair, they didn't let me participate because i'm your teammate

oscar piastri can i let it be known that i didn't want anything to do with this?

logan sargeant LIAR! YOU WERE THE BOOKIE!

charles leclerc I TRUSTED YOU OSCAR!

oscar piastri it was either bookie or they were going to make me flirt with peter and figure out if he knew something.

daniel ricciardo i'm back what did i miss?

daniel ricciardo OH COME ON MAX GOT HIM TO SPILL THE BEANS BEFORE ME??

alex albon there is no getting in the way of lestappen daniel. it's time we accepted that. bianca should too if she's going to date charles.

charles sat in his room, frowning down at his phone nothing was worse than a 'we need to talk text.' his stomach currently felt like there were a million bees buzzing around in there. the knock at his door startled him and he rushed to open it, being met with the sight of of bianca. she smiled brightly at him, causing the bees to subside a bit.

"you wanted to talk?" charles asked. bianca noticed the scared expression on charles' face and her eyes widened, quickly understanding what charles thought there talk was going to about.

“no! this isn’t that kind of talk, i swear,” bianca quickly said.

“then what is it about?” charles questioned.

“can i come in?” charles nodded, stepping out of the doorway and opening the door wider, allowing her in. bianca gave him a slight smile, before moving to sit on the couch in his room. she sighed, “i owe you an explanation about harry.”

“no, you don’t,” charles said, as he sat next to her. bianca laid her head on his shoulder. charles intertwined their hands, “i do, and it’s the least i can do. besides, if i learned anything from that relationship it’s that honesty is always the way right thing to do.”

“okay,” charles whispered. bianca sighed again, “i met him at some charity event my dad was holding, when i was a little girl, before he was iron man. os corp was stark industries biggest rival, it still is. but somehow we were friends growing up.”

“romeo and juliet,” charles muttered. bianca laughed, “funny, my mom said the same thing. we- we didn’t start dating until we were 17, both of our dads were against it, but norman. norman saw it as an opportunity to show the public that he and my didn’t hate each other. i was a business opportunity to him.”

charles frowned, "that's not very nice of him."

"well he turned out to be a supervillain on another earth who hated peter. so fingers crossed he doesn't turn out like that here."

"what?"

"that's a wild story for another time," bianca explained, "but i loved harry. he was my first everything, except kiss. i lost that one in a game of truth or dare at a party when i was 13."

"hmm, i was kissed in front of a swing set when i was 9."

bianca laughed, "i loved him charlie, and he used it against me. the girl's name isn't important, although, she was very much aware that harry was in a relationship with me. the entire time we were together he was with her. 3 years of my life down the drain, wasted on someone who was never even worth it."

"i'm sorry chérie (dear) ," charles whispered as he hugged her, bianca burying her head in the crook of his neck, "you should've never gone through that with someone like him. maybe it was a good idea to convince max to take him out."

"like a date? or like murder?"

charles shrugged with one shoulder, "it doesn't matter, either works. although, i think kelly might be upset over the date one."

"and christian would upset when max ends up in prison for murder."

charles laughed and bianca giggled softly, "he's such a connard," charles said.

"i don't know what that means," bianca admitted.

"asshole. it means asshole."

"good," bianca said, "because he is one."

"we should- non c'est bête (no, it's stupid)," charles cut himself off. bianca pulled away from him, "no, what were you going to say?"

"it is dumb," charles said as he dismissed his own thoughts.

"it's not," bianca argued, "what is it?"

"we should- we should go somewhere over break. like as a couple. that is what we are no?"

bianca smiled widely at him, "yes we are, and we should. where are we going?"

"oh," charles said, surprised, "i did not think you would say yes. i have not thought that far ahead."

"it's okay. we can go anywhere. i don't mind."

"well i'm glad we are a couple because i accidentally told a few other drivers we were dating."

"charles, i called you bae, and wanda immediately caught on."

charles laughed and bianca smiled at him. she curled into him, laying her head on his chest. the stark-potts girl yawned, "can i take a nap?"

"yeah," charles whispered, "you can take a nap. i think i'll nap with you."

"i'd like that." bianca whispered as she closed her eyes.

SPA 2024

biancastark_potts posted a new story

il mio cuore, i do speak italian, despite what people think. (my heart)

liked by biancastark_potts, olliebearman, joaquintorres and others

scuderiaferrari it's a rainy one here in spa but we're glad to end the first half of the season on such a high note. it's another double podium for the ferrari boys. see y'all after the break! next stop: zandvoort!

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

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username this has literally been the best mid season ending ferrari has had in who knows how long.

username LET'S GO FERRARI!

username FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!

harleykeener LET'S FUCKING GO!

↳ harleykeener is this what red bull felt like last year?

charles_leclerc that's caption is not written by peter and i know it.

↳ peterbparker ISAIAH GROUNDED ME AFTER THE INNOCENT WAR I WAGED!

↳ charles_leclerc at least he didn't tie you to the hospitality like he threatened.

redbullracing free peter! he did nothing wrong but have some fun!

mclaren free our boy! he did nothing wrong!

mercedesamgf1 free our fellow admin! we were having fun!

username isaiah let our boy out of prison!

biancastark_potts and we've got another amazing half to go!!

joaquintorres can't believe i wake up so early to watch men go vroom in odd shapes.

↳ samwilson you're literally in the air force

↳ joaquintorres literally shut up samuel!

username this has been the highlight of the season besides charles winning monaco and carlos winning spain.

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¡leclerc-s speaks! okay, i needed to give bianca an ex but i could not be bothered to come up with a face claim or name for him so i just went with harry osborn. i know technically the osborn family doesn't exist in the main mcu universe but in my world they do. i also googled a fan cast for harry osborn and the most popular one was timothee so i went with him. please ignore any typos in this, i made this on no sleep because insomnia is a bitch.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: All That You Are

Plot: A chaotic press conference precedes a match that ends in violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: f!reader, language, minor violence

A/N: I’m gonna chalk this week’s chapters up to having some free time and also being really motivated to get to the next few. Phew, let me tell you…this is the last chance I’m giving y’all to breathe. The final act kicks off in the next chapter and we don’t stop till the very end…so everybody enjoy the fluff and the jokes while you’ve got them 🙃

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged and, as always, enjoy!

————————

AFC Richmond’s hot streak just…kept…going.

They were killing it, both at matches and training. More importantly, they were happy. Joyful, even. Which meant everyone else was too.

More and more fans started showing up to watch training till eventually, the stands were packed. Y/n had begun to come out more often, genuinely enjoying watching the boys practice, and had found a way to make it a PR matter. She helped get the crowd riled up, engaging with them and encouraging them to cheer and chant for their players. She’d collected whatever merchandise they had a surplus of, pens or coffee mugs usually, and made a game of handing them out to the fans that came. Ted had encouraged her to keep doing it, it only further fostered the atmosphere he wanted to create.

Y/n hurried upstairs one day in particular, having missed the alarm set on her phone while she was hauling a bag of freebies from the gift shop to her office. She was never late and felt like she was going to burst into flames for being so.

“Whoa,” Ted called, just a few steps behind her, “Someone call Allyson Felix. Let her know she better watch her back.”

Y/n hung back on the landing to catch her breath, falling back in step once Ted caught up. “We ran out of the mugs the other day but I’ve got coasters and coozies for this afternoon.”

“Ooh,” Ted exclaimed, “You’ve been killin’ it in the swag department, missy. Everyone’s a little more hyped knowing they get a prize just for participation.”

Y/n grunted, “Trophies for doing nothing is also why my generation hates work, so don’t applaud me yet.”

They entered Rebecca’s office laughing only to find the atmosphere contrasting their good moods. Spread out on the couch, Keeley had her face buried in Rebecca’s lap.

“Uh-oh,” Ted announced his presence, “When girl-talk turns into girl-hug, you know that either means something horrible’s happened, or absolutely nothing at all.”

“Please say nothing at all,” Y/n set her purse down and grabbed the takeaway box Rebecca had ordered for her.

“Jack’s ghosting Keeley,” their boss explained.

“Oh, no,” Ted frowned.

Y/n sunk into the cushion beside Keeley, rubbing her shoulder as the blonde snuggled back under Rebecca’s arm.

“First, she wants to go on a break,” Ted recounted, “And now the old digital Irish goodbye. Which is a term I never really understood. ‘Cause I got a buddy back home named Seamus O’Malley, and that son of a gun hugs folks goodbye for, like, twenty minutes before he leaves anywhere.”

Y/n smiled down at her salad. The last few months may have softened her, but decades could pass and Ted would remain the same.

“Yeah,” he looked to Keeley, “Sorry to hear about that. Hey, I did make you some biscuits, you know, just to soften the blow.”

“Oh, thanks Ted,” Keeley took the pink package from him and opened it. Her eye blew open, “What? There’s like forty quid in here.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were gonna be here till this morning,” Ted explained, “No time to do anything special so I just tossed a little cash in there.”

Keeley nodded, “That is very sweet. Thank you, Ted.”

“Ain’t nothin’ to it but to do it,” he shrugged, turning to Rebecca, “Hey, boss. You mind if I skip the press conference today? Michelle and I got these parent-teacher meetings I don’t wanna miss.”

Rebecca shrugged and smiled, “Of course, Ted. Family first.”

“I appreciate it.”

“So…” Y/n trailed off, “Who’s next in line?”

A metaphorical lightbulb went off over Keeley’s head. “We could have Roy do it,” she suggested, “I know he hates that stuff, but he is really good at it.”

Y/n struggled to see the “good” part of how Roy handled the press. On her last count, he’d cussed out no more than six reporters.

“I mean, you know, fine by me,” Ted replied.

Rebecca agreed, “Great idea.”

“Look at you,” Ted smiled at Keeley, “Heartbroken, but still kickin’ butt.”

“I mean, I’m not heartbroken,” Keeley fidgeted in her seat, “It’s more like heart-bent.”

“Heart-bent,” Ted mused, “I like that. It’s a great title for a country song. You know, like,” he began to sing, “I’m heart-bent, in my apartment, ‘cause all that you left, was your fart scent.”

“Alright. Goodbye, Ted,” Rebecca cued him up to leave, though Keeley was laughing and Y/n was smiling through a bite of spinach.

“And now that you’re gone,” Ted continued on his way out to the hall, “I wrote this song, ‘cause all you left was, the smell of your farts.”

Y/n pointed to the door with her fork, “Speaking on behalf of our homeland, we can do better than that.”

Rebecca snorted and Keeley rested her head on Y/n’s shoulder.

“Right,” she held out her hand, “Show me.”

Keeley handed it over and Y/n bore witness to the mile long chain of texts her boss had sent their boss. It was embarrassing to say the least, but Y/n wasn’t about to kick Keeley when she was already laid out.

“Wow,” she strained as she scrolled.

“I know,” Keeley moaned.

“It’s like a river,” Y/n mused as she surfed the rest of the blue bubbles, “Can you promise one thing?”

Keeley hummed.

Y/n handed her phone back, “No more. She’s the one that stomped on you, she gets to do the groveling.”

And grovel she should. From what Keeley had told Y/n, Jack had handled their conversation regarding the video leak and the so-called “statement” horrifically. Jack seemed offended that Keeley had dared to have a meaningful relationship before her. It was jealousy where jealousy didn’t belong.

Whereas Y/n was still struggling to comprehend Jamie and Keeley ever having been together.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Keeley threw her phone on the other side of the couch, “I’m done.”

“Good,” Y/n nodded firmly.

“And that’s all you’ve got to say?” Keeley asked with a raised brow, “Nothing else?”

Y/n purposefully filled her mouth with a far-too-large bite of lettuce. She had plenty to say on the matter, Keeley knew damn well, but she was determined not to do so unless there was a confirmed break-up. After all, Jack was still their boss.

“Nope,” she mumbled.

Rebecca and Keeley descended into a fit of snorts.

Later, the three women were were seeing Keeley out to her car. Roy was just coming down the hall when they came off the last step.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Rebecca said.

“Okay,” Roy replied before looking to his ex. An awkward silence came about for three seconds, though it felt like much longer. “Keeley.”

“Roy,” she nodded back to him.

Rebecca, blissfully, pulled them out. “So I need you to fill in for Ted at today’s press conference, if that’s okay.”

Roy didn’t hesitate in his reply, “Fuck no.”

Keeley, Rebecca and Y/n were just as unflinching as they waited for the answer to change.

“I mean,” Roy backtracked, “Why can’t Ted do it?”

His eyes went from woman to woman, waiting for one of them to answer or crack or…something.

Or nothing.

“I mean,” he pasted an unnatural grin to his face, “I’d love to.”

Y/n pointed a finger and nodded.

“Wonderful,” Rebecca replied, looking to Keeley and Y/n, “Shall we?”

The three of them left Roy in the hall, waiting for the inevitable reaction.

“Fuck,” he said rather loudly.

“I heard that,” Rebecca smirked.

“You still have my word,” Y/n remarked to her boss, “Send me up there, I’ll give them all they want to know. Sell everybody out. We’ll be on every front page in the country.”

Rebecca laughed, though Keeley missed it entirely. She was too busy glancing back at Roy.

—————————

Later in the afternoon, with the press conference a few minutes away from starting, Y/n swung by her office to pick up the notes she’d jotted down for Roy.

As she grabbed her notebook, she noticed there was a tea sitting next to her laptop.

She picked it up and examined it. It had come from the café, her name was written on the side in the big loopy handwriting Delilah, the barista, used. Assuming she wasn’t being set up to be poisoned, she took a sip and accepted the anonymous kindness.

Y/n made it down to the press room, meeting Higgins in the back and waiting for Roy to enter.

The door opened, and Beard walked through.

Y/n’s face dropped, “Um…”

“Where’s Ted?” Higgins asked.

“Where’s Roy?” Y/n corrected, “He’s supposed to be filling in.”

Beard took his seat at the desk, “Good afternoon. I know you all were expecting Ted, but he couldn’t make it today. I, however, will be happy to answer any and all questions, so,” he gestured to the desk filled with recorders and phones, “Fire away.”

Y/n took a breath, it wasn’t so bad. Beard, while not always the most sociable, was well-spoken and highly intelligent. He might have even been a better choice than Roy for his mood alone.

She regretted every thinking such a thing within two minutes.

“Look, man,” Beard sat back in the chair, “We can debate all day, Zeppelin versus Eagles, but one thing that is absolutely not up for debate is Walsh versus Page.”

“Oh, come off it,” the man fired back, “You honestly think it’s Walsh over Page?”

Y/n whispered to Higgins, “How did this go so far off the rails this fast?”

“I don’t know,” he replied.

She handed him her tea, “Hold this.”

Y/n quietly and calmly exited the room, breaking into a light jog in the hall and up the stairs. She knocked on Rebecca’s open door but didn’t bother to be invited in.

“Hi,” she greeted quickly, “Um, did something happen to Roy in the two hours since he was last seen?”

Rebecca’s brow lowered, “No, why?”

Y/n thinned her lips to a line, “You might wanna come downstairs.”

Without question, Rebecca followed her down and into the press room. Things had taken another turn in the minute Y/n had disappeared for.

“That is not what I said, Gary,” Beard angrily pointed to the reporter in question.

“I have your quote right here,” Gary chuckled.

“You did say it, Coach,” another on agreed.

“Stay out of this, Lloyd,” Beard snapped.

“Don’t shout at Lloyd,” Sarah, another reporter, said.

Y/n flattened her palm against her forehead.

“You said, and I quote,” Gary looked down at his notes, “‘Joe Walsh is a better guitarist than Jimmy Page.’ That’s what you said!”

Beard leaned back in his chair, exasperated by the fight he’d started. “Fine! I said it,” he spread his arms out in defeat, “But what I meant was that Joe Walsh, underrated. Jimmy Page,” he got stuck on the last word in his rage, “Overrated!”

The room was arguing amongst itself.

“I mean, Joe Walsh is a poet,” Beard went on, “Jimmy Page is a fucking court stenographer on Adderall.”

As the room digested the answer in shock, and amusement, Y/n reached out to Higgins, retaking her tea and taking a large swig as if it were wine.

“Are you out of your mind?” Gary laughed, “Page could beat Walsh with one string.”

“What do you mean, beat him?” Beard replied angrily, “It’s not a competition, man. It’s art, you fucking Neanderthal!”

Y/n, Higgins and Rebecca surged forward at the same time.

“Hello,” Rebecca cheerily announced, trying to draw the attention to herself while Higgins grabbed Beard, who was still arguing with Gary. “Hello! Hello!”

Y/n acted as a shield for Higgins as he walked Beard out of the room, dropping him in the side hall. But not before Beard could get in one last insult.

“‘Stairway to Heaven’” is a glorified fingering exercise, and you all know it!”

Higgins smiled at the press as he shut the door, Y/n blindly reaching behind to help him push against Beard’s weight.

“I can’t think of the last time I was able to be here with all you absolutely…” Rebecca spoke loudly over the noise of Beard still yelling into the door. Y/n and Higgins blocked his face from view. “Just brilliant members of the press down here in the pressroom. So with that in mind, I would love to take some questions. Come on,” Rebecca spread her arms welcomingly, “Absolutely ask me anything.”

“Oh, shit,” Y/n mumbled. This wasn’t any better.

Marcus from The Independent announced himself when Rebecca nodded towards him.

“Hello there, Marcus,” she greeted, “How are you?”

“Very well.”

“Good, good.”

“Miss Welton,” Marcus asked, “In your opinion, who’s the greatest classic rock guitarist of all time?”

Rebecca stuttered a bit, stuck on the question that had her blanking out on any rock she’d ever listened to.

“The, uh…” she struggled, “The…guy from Cream.”

Higgins snorted, Y/n buried her head in her hand as the pressroom quietly and collectively laughed.

“Uh…” Rebecca began.

“I think,” Y/n came to stand beside her boss, grinning abnormally large, “That in the wake of our recent wins, we’re all still a bit hazy from the excitement. I think we’re going to call this for the day, but we’ll be ready and waiting for you after the match this Sunday against Brighton. Thank you so much!”

Y/n placed her hands on Rebecca’s back and marched her towards the door.

“Uh, Ms. Y/l/n,” Marcus spoke up, “Care to comment on who you think the greatest guitarist is?”

“Keith Richards,” Y/n answered, “Purely because he’s still standing.”

Whatever reaction she’d caused, she didn’t hear them. Her and Higgins had gotten Rebecca safely out into the hall.

“Sorry about that,” she shuddered.

“You’re alright,” Y/n patted her shoulder.

“‘The guy from Cream,’” Higgins giggled.

“Yes, all right,” Rebecca twisted to face Higgins, “Don’t start with me, Leslie! I panicked,” she took a seething breath, “I’m going to murder Roy Kent.”

“If you don’t, I will,” Y/n exhaled.

“Look, Roy not doing press is just Roy being Roy,” Higgins stated.

Y/n gestured to the door they’d just come out of, “And look where it got us.”

“Well, I am sick of Roy being Roy,” Rebecca spat, hands on her hips, “So it’s time for Rebecca to be Rebecca.”

Without another word, she marched off in the direction of the training room. The boys would nearly be done with their afternoon workout.

“Oh, yes,” Higgins agreed, “Absolutely- I couldn’t,” he turned with Y/n to watch Rebecca strut away from them, “Yeah. There you go. Yes! Ooh!”

Y/n breathed a laugh, if anyone rubbed off on her from Richmond, she hoped it was Rebecca. There was a fierceness inside her that Y/n had never possessed in her life, but she’d have liked to.

“Stay for the aftermath?” Higgins asked.

“Oh, definitely,” Y/n nodded. She wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to stare down Roy.

Quick enough, Rebecca marched back up the stairs, Roy following thirty seconds later. While Higgins’ best frown was still his worst smile, Y/n glared at the coach unflinchingly. He did his best to ignore them both on the way up to Rebecca’s office.

“Another day,” Y/n mumbled, her and Higgins heading their separate ways for the rest of the afternoon.

As she walked down the hall, some of the boys came out of the training room. She high-fived them before coming up on Jamie, bringing up the rear.

He flicked the cup of tea, still in Y/n’s hand, and smirked. “Cheers.”

Y/n looked back and met his waiting gaze, the two of them sharing a smile. The days at Nelson Road grew more unpredictable the further into the season they got, but some things were as constant as breathing.

——————

The day of the Brighton match started as normal as any other. Y/n made the familiar trek to the owner’s box, taking a seat between Keeley and Higgins, and braced for the ninety minutes of nerves she both hated and loved.

“Oh, it’s Jack,” Keeley announced as she scrolled her phone. The three of them sat to attention as they waited to hear the text, “She’s saying that she’s in Argentina…for the next couple of months.”

“Ouch,” Higgins commented. Y/n scoffed while Rebecca pulled Keeley into her side.

“Well,” Keeley took a breath, “I think our break is actually an ‘up.’ So now that Jack is officially my ex,” she looked between the group, “Please feel free to say any of the things that you didn’t like about her.”

Rebecca sighed, “Well-“

“Ooh,” Higgins chimed in, “Her handshake was way too firm. You know-“ he groaned and grunted as he imitated the action, “I get it. You’re friendly. Good riddance.”

Y/n bit down on her bottom lip, trying to keep the comments from flying out her mouth.

“Something you’d like to say, Y/n?” Keeley asked knowingly.

Shaking her head, she tried to go the diplomatic route. “Just want to watch some football.”

Keeley slowly nodded, staring out at the field with her.

“And she’s a fucking asshole,” Y/n muttered as low as she could to let only Keeley hear it. They smiled to one another.

Right off the bat, the Greyhounds were struggling. Isaac, usually so focused, was off his game. He cost them a goal kick and earned Brighton a corner instead. It wasn’t like him and the fans were letting their displeasure be known.

Even worse, when Colin lost an easy goal, Isaac went after him. The two of them argued until Jamie and Sam, playing peacemaker, held Isaac back from following Colin any further.

Y/n frowned, something had to have happened before the match. The boys were far more in sync than this, and they sure as hell didn’t fight each other.

The first half ended on the heels of Dani just nearly making a goal, only for Brighton to block it. The score was 1-nil as the Greyhounds trudged back to the locker room.

Higgins, Y/n, Rebecca and Keeley went silent as the fifteen minute break began. There wasn’t anything to say.

Y/n’s eyes were glazing over the crowd on the opposite side of the stadium when a commotion started. She followed the noise to the tunnel to see Isaac, leaping into the stands and grabbing one of the fans.

“Oh my gosh,” she mumbled. Keeley, Rebecca and her all rose to their feet.

With the distance, the scene could hardly be seen properly, but it appeared that Isaac was holding the fan by the shirt and yelling in his face. The ref had never pulled the red card out so fast. It was unprecedented and unacceptable.

Higgins rushed out his seat, the women moving to make room for him down the aisle. Y/n’s eyes followed Roy as he helped Isaac down and started shouting something to the security guards.

The scene died down as quickly as it began. The fan was escorted out of the stadium and the Greyhounds disappeared into the tunnel.

“What the hell was that?” Rebecca finally asked.

“I don’t know,” Keeley breathed.

Internally, Y/n began to feel some sort of panic build. She couldn’t decipher the complexities of it, all she knew was she had to move.

“Where are you going?” Rebecca asked as Y/n slid past them.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled Keeley’s same answer, already climbing the stairs.

She hurried through the suite, past all the fans opening social media to post that they’d witnessed the fight themselves. Past all the fans in the concourse exclaiming how McAdoo was about to fucking kill the twat. Y/n couldn’t hear any of it as she made for the personnel-only entrance into the building.

When she made it to the empty hall outside the locker room, she faltered. Her immediate reaction would be to run in, but she knew it was far from appropriate. Her hand instinctively reached toward the door, even with feet of space between her and it. She couldn’t.

Nearly as soon as she’d thought it, Isaac came bursting through the door, unaware of her presence as he stalked to the boot room. He slammed that door shut and Y/n flinch at the sound.

Ten seconds later, Roy came out much more peacefully, but still with purpose.

Y/n stepped forward, her movements and her voice hesitant, “Hey-“

Roy could see the concern etched deeply in her face and touched her arm as he passed. “I got it.”

It wasn’t often that Roy wasn’t scowling, wasn’t speaking like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. For him to speak softly, to voluntarily comfort someone, he had to have meant it.

Y/n stood frozen as he shut the door to the boot room, all the pieces of her reaction making sense suddenly. After Isaac had attacked the fan, her first thought hadn’t been about PR. It hadn’t been about the clean-up her and Keeley would have to do, the stress of it all. It hadn’t had anything to do with what the internet would think or the fans or anyone.

Her first thought was to wonder if Isaac was okay.

She knew by now she cared about AFC Richmond. She had a special affection for Rebecca and their weekly tea. Keeley had cracked her way past Y/n’s gates simply by being herself. Ted was the nicest slice of home she could have gotten.

This was different. This was caring so deeply for the team that she was standing in the hall, unmoving until she knew they were all alright.

It was no longer about letting them in, Y/n knew, it was about how deeply etched in her heart they were.

She waited, waited, the whole fifteen minutes, hearing only the muffled mumbles of the team’s conversation through the doors. When they cheered and exited the room, their spirits seemingly lifted, none of them even noticed her against the wall.

Y/n moved to stand outside the boot room, catching Colin and Trent as the last ones to exit the locker room. Trent threw her a small salute that she matched, before heading out to his own seat. She still wasn’t leaving until she knew all was well.

Eventually, Roy came out of the boot room with Isaac in tow. The disgraced captain glanced up at her as he passed, Y/n made a point to squeeze his arm. He didn’t flinch at her touch, but didn’t make a point of lingering as he headed to the locker room to wait the game out.

As Y/n inhaled, Roy nodded, “He’s alright.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

The two of them walked back to their separate paths, Roy heading out to the pitch and Y/n heading back to the owner’s box.

The match turned around after that, tremendously so. The Greyhounds had hit the pitch united once more, particularly Colin, who’d assisted in both goals that had led them to victory. Balance seemed to have been restored, and while Isaac would still be the most memorable part of the game, Colin’s efforts wouldn’t be forgotten.

And, as always, Y/n’s work began the moment the ref called it.

There were strict instructions from both Keeley and her to Higgins not to grab any of the players. They’d no doubt be asked about their captain’s actions and none of them needed to deal with that stress. Ted was the only one who could comfortably handle it.

They waited with Rebecca in the back of the room, Higgins and Trent joined them at the last minute.

“He’s on his way,” Higgins said.

“Thank you, Leslie,” Rebecca replied before turning to Keeley and Y/n, “You gave Ted some talking points?”

Keeley frowned, “No. I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“Not for a while,” Y/n added.

The side door opened before Rebecca could truly begin to worry. Where Ted should have strolled in, Roy did instead.

“Fuck,” Y/n whispered, punctuated by a gag from Higgins.

Roy took a seat at the desk, staring down the entire room. No one was wearing their surprise well.

“Yeah, alright, you got me today,” he growled, “Any questions?”

Every reporter’s hand went up, all of them shouting to get Roy’s attention.

“Fucking hell,” he mumbled before pointing to one of them, “You. Five-o’-clock shadow head.”

Gary, self-proclaimed Jimmy Page fan, stood up. “Coach Kent, do you or the organization condone what Isaac McAdoo did today?”

“What a stupid fucking question,” Roy was quick to reply, Rebecca, Higgins and Y/n all screwing their eyes shut. “‘Course we don’t. What Isaac did was awful. He was lucky he only got a red card.”

“Okay,” Gary relented, “So why’d he do it?”

Roy chuckled, looking like he was nearly about to say something before stopping himself. Instead of cursing or snarking, he settled back in his chair.

“When I was first coming up through Sunderland, there was an old-timer on the team,” Roy began, “Local guy. He and his wife were about to have their first kid. So during training one day, I made a joke that statistically, I was probably the real dad. And the boys fell about laughing, but he went fucking nuts. He battered me. Properly. I had a black eye, chipped tooth, three broken ribs…I couldn’t play for six games. He got booted off the team. After that,” Roy shook his head, “No club would go near him.”

“Then in the summer, after I could breathe again,” he went on, “I bumped into him in a pub. And I got the chance to say sorry for my stupid fucking joke. And he got to tell me he and his wife had lost the baby a month before all that went down. He hadn’t told anyone. Kept it all inside.”

The room had fallen hush, save for the occasional click of a camera.

“Look, I get that some people think if they buy a ticket,” Roy’s voice regained its strength, “They’ve got the right to yell whatever abusive shit they want at footballers. But they’re not just footballers. They’re also people. And none of us,” he dragged his finger across the room, “Know what is going on in each other’s lives.”

“So for Isaac to do what he did today, even though it was wrong,” Roy pointed to his chest, “I give him love. And as for why he did what he did,” he leaned closer to the microphones, “That’s none of my fucking business.”

That was it. There was nothing left to say. Roy had handled it with more grace and patience than anyone could have expected.

Y/n smiled to herself, “Okay.”

“Next question,” he called to the room, which erupted back into shouts and flashes, “Yeah, new Trent.”

“Coach,” Marcus spoke up, “Let’s talk about Colin Hughes.”

“Yeah, he’s a hell of a player,” Roy answered, “And a great man. I think we’ve underused him.”

“I think you’re right,” Marcus said.

“Glad we agree,” Roy replied, “I prefer you to old Trent.”

The room laughed before Roy called on the next reporter. Rebecca and him shared a look of acknowledgement, this was making up for his ditching of the last presser.

Roy went on answering questions a few minutes longer before abruptly calling it. As everyone was saying their goodbyes for the evening, Y/n caught him in the hall.

“You did good,” she complimented.

Roy grunted a little, still bad at taking praise about anything other than his professional abilities. “Sorry if I…made your job harder the other day.”

She shrugged, “No more so than anyone else. You’re just more of a dick about it.”

Having said it with a smile Roy knew Y/n wasn’t serious…totally. His lips quirked up ever so slightly.

“Night, Roy,” Y/n said, hitting his arm as she walked past him.

“Cheers,” he replied, heading his own way.

—————————

While the day was a victory, Jamie was exhausted. Some of the boys had gone out to celebrate, he was one of the ones who decided heading home was more appealing.

A ring of the doorbell dragged him off his couch and into the entryway. He opened the door, his chest both filling and draining at the sight.

Y/n was leant against the frame, a soft smile on her lips. She held up a paper takeaway bag.

“I won’t tell Roy if you don’t,” she promised.

Jamie chuckled under his breath and moved to let her in.

It wasn’t just the match that’d worn Jamie out. Colin’s confession in the locker room was…heavy. Weighing most on Colin, of course, but when the celebratory noise had died down and Jamie was left to his own thoughts, he found they were louder than normal.

Y/n showing up only acted as an amplifier.

Here was Colin, hiding away one of the biggest parts of himself. Forced to keep the person he loved in the shadows for fear of the public’s reaction. He couldn’t hold them, couldn’t be seen with them, couldn’t claim them. The person who meant everything to him.

And here was Jamie, with the woman he cared about most standing before him, feeling the weight of his privilege.

“Samir was working tonight,” Y/n announced as she slipped off her shoes, “He kept asking me if I was buying for us both. I think he slipped in some extra-“

She was cut off by Jamie, wrapping his arms around her in a full embrace.

Jamie wasn’t good with words. He was barely good with feelings. And expressing them was a whole other matter. What he did know to be true was that Y/n was the singular most important person in his life. Whether he’d realized it before or not, he wasn’t sure. But it was suddenly crushing him, he was overwhelmed by his affection for her. She was the best part of his worst times, the highlight of his days. The literal sunshine lighting up the darkest parts of him, the parts everyone else looked at and ran from. But not her, never her.

Y/n stumbled a bit, Jamie steadying her as he tugged her to his body. It wasn’t like they never hugged, but this felt different. The whole day had been so emotionally charged, she wasn’t surprised that he was feeling some of it. She wasn’t sure what had happened in the locker room between halves or after the game, but whatever it was had done something to him, and she apparently was the solution.

The truth was, Jamie was the first person Y/n hadn’t tired of being there for. She wanted to save him at every possible opportunity. To be there for him in whatever way he needed her. Lord knows he had done it enough for her. He’d looked at her ugliest parts and matched them, the two of them somehow growing together through their horrible histories. Some relationships were easily replaced, but there could never be another Jamie.

Y/n slid her arms around Jamie’s back, stealing some of the comfort for herself.

Jamie rested his chin on her shoulder, shutting his eyes and letting the moment wash over him. The world could stop, just for a moment, and it would be there when they broke apart. But for now, Y/n was all he wanted to feel.

They stayed in the hall, clinging to one another, having only unwrapped the first layer of what all they felt meant.

—————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[peanutbutterand]

i miss you, i'm sorry; lmh

 in which alcohol and a broken heart prompts you to make a phone call to your ex.

~ Angst with a capital A. 

wc: 1.6K

Reference(s): “I miss you, I’m sorry” written by Grace Abrahams and a line from Notting Hill directed by Roger Michell

~

“I miss you”

The flashing lights seemed to somehow mute the chaotic noise around you. Head hurting, mind overwhelmed, and still, your fingers unconsciously danced across the screen of your phone, typing a number you had deleted months ago.

Some things don’t stay the way they're supposed to. Out of sight, out of mind right? Funny how all logic and rational thinking is suddenly muddled by the denial of a broken heart. 

“y/n.”

If it weren’t for the alcohol in your system, you’d cry at the sound of his voice. Instead, the concern in his tone forced a bittersweet smile to form on your face.

He shouldn’t be worried, he shouldn’t have even answered. But he did. And you hated that you knew he would. Because even in your drunken state, it was so natural for you to go back to him. 

“You promised.” 

You felt pathetic. Clinging onto his promises of forever, even when you fought his declarations towards the end of your relationship. The need to be right overpowering the need to be loved.

It was careless, taking everything you loved and disputing it with cruel words driven by a fixed mindset. And he did the same. Hurt people hurt people, because no one wants to be hurting alone. 

You did your best to move on. You really did. It was easy at first, fueled by anger and pinpointing all the blame of your failing relationship on him was something you did with your head held high. 

And then all of a sudden, your pride became too hard to swallow and all the hate you spewed ricocheted in the forms of longing and regret. 

You often found yourself reminiscing about fights in his apartment and the disappointment that came with broken dishes, just to get a glimpse of him.

Because he was always readily available in your mind, whether it be in the form of heartbreak or not. And the extent to which you would willingly fall back into these moments only resulted in any progress of moving on to slip through your fingers.

“y/n, where are you?”

How do you move on from someone who is so deeply engraved into your mind, someone who has touched every part of you with sweet kisses and gentle hands, someone who starts your thoughts and always ends them.

For these reasons, your doubts and hesitations were not baseless. Because how do you move on from someone you once promised forever to? It almost seems wrong to do so. 

“I don’t know what to do Minho. Everywhere I go leads me back to you. Everything I know brings me back to us.” 

There was so much to say, so much you wanted to tell him. It was desperate and embarrassing, but others might say you were simply in love; that you were just a girl, talking to a boy, asking him to love her. 

“Y/n, please….go home.”

“I can’t.”

“Y/n–”

“Every corner of that fucking house is haunted Minho.” 

It was suffocating. Home was no longer home but a place filled with traces of his presence. Bittersweet reminders of the life that once flourished remained in every room.

His coffee cup in the cupboard, his hoodie tucked away in your drawer, the silly love notes he left embedded into your books, his morning kisses, his laughter, his smile, him. 

He was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Even in his absence, he was consuming you. So no, you wouldn’t go home, you couldn’t. Because the definition between home and Minho seemed to blur overtime. 

“I don’t know what to do anymore."

The drunken daze was now fading away, your clouded mind becoming overwhelmed with the sober emotions that flowed through your body, because they were one in the same when you were drunk, just easier to handle in a state of intoxication. 

“I thought you hated me.”

Such a statement was not meant to be laced with the gentleness he evoked, so much so, a certain heaviness clung to your chest. For the reminder of the three words you spewed at him the last time you spoke will forever bring feelings of angst and regret. 

“Minho…”

Some things are better left unsaid. Until the time comes when those things are all you can think about, clouding your judgement and cultivating a narrative of missed opportunities guided by the words “what if”.

You had many. And they creeped up on you, leaving you lost in your thoughts of love that you’ll never be able to live, at least, not with him.

But not was not the time to wallow in your self pity and despair. Not after all the time you had dedicated to pondering over the “what ifs” and certainly not when the person these “what ifs” revolved around was here, listening to you. 

“I was angry and upset and desperate to hurt you. I don’t hate you—I never could. I’m sorry.”

The slow sigh that ran after your words displayed your relief more than you intended. Thinking back to the last time you spoke to him was routine for you.

But this time, instead of being tormented by the hurt laced in the memory of that night, you were now comforted by the fact that your truth was now something he knew.

And you weren’t going to deprive yourself of his, no matter how much it may break you. You were in too deep to consider that now. 

“Do I still make you sick to your stomach?” 

It was his turn to let out an audible sigh. And it seems as though you weren’t the only one reminiscing back to that night; for his response appeared to be nurtured with time and consideration.

“No y/n, you never did. You never will. I didn't mean that. I wish I had ever said those words to you, but I did. I’m sorry.”

It’s one thing to say something. It’s another to mean it. And it felt nice to hear he didn’t. You knew he could never have meant it, but the assurance you experienced upon his confession pulled apart the remaining angst embedded in your memories. You could only hope he felt the same.

It was cold outside. Somehow, your feet carried you out of the stuffy place, the moon illuminating the still street, a complete contradiction to your surroundings a few seconds ago. 

The silence seemed to emphasize your acknowledgement of everything that had happened and was happening. The phone pressed to your ear. The quick beating in your chest. The familiarity of the slow breaths he took as you listened. Your boldness. His patience. 

“I’m sorry I called. I know we said we weren’t talking—”

“I miss you too.”

You almost didn’t catch it. His voice low and quiet, almost as if the statement was a passing thought that had slipped past his tongue. But you caught it, as did your denial, that after all this time, he too missed what once was.

A part of you wished your ears had been deaf to his words. Because the way your hand fell to your chest, the way it felt as though your heart had paused, the way tears immediately lined your waterline, was the same way you recognized exactly how much you missed him.

One step forward and three steps back is the damage his words did. But you started it first, and it was only fair to finish what you started. 

An absent smile lined your lips with tears falling down your face. Your tears were warm against your cold skin and you so badly wanted the warmth to stay.  

“Everything we were scared of happening, happened Minho.”

“Nothing happened in the way we wanted Y/n.”

Your absent smile turned bittersweet, fingers gently grazing your cheek in an attempt to catch the warmth from your eyes. You were right. And he was too. They say that nothing that is meant for you will ever get away, so why did he?

“Is this better for us y/n?”

It’s hard to make peace with something you don't entirely agree with. He hurt you more than anyone else has. But he loved you better than anyone ever did. 

“I don't know. I’m still confused.” 

Your eyes shut, squeezing what was left of your tears out. 

“I do know that I was really happy with you, we were happy together. And we were really good to each other.”

You went into this conversation with hope and uncertainty. It was only normal for that hope and uncertainty to cultivate into doubts and hesitation. He didn’t deserve that. And you didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Not now. Not ever. 

“But….”

“But we’ve been here before. And I want to love you because I love you, not because I need you— I missed you Minho…..I miss you. I’m sorry.” 

And in an instant, no sound came from his phone. Your voice, gone, as if it were never there.

Gone before he could familiarize himself with the highs and lows of your tone. Gone before he could tell you to not cry, for he recognized the tell tale signs that you were. Gone before he could say everything he wanted to say and more. 

And perhaps that's why he continued to hold the phone to his ear, head falling to the back of his couch as he allowed the words he meant to say to you, the second your name appeared on his phone, break free from his lips.

Barely a mumble, but with his whole heart and all his truth. 

“I still love you, I promise.”

[ataraxiaspainting]

The End.

Yan Kafka x F Reader.

Synopsis: Kafka always sits in the front row, despite being part of the show herself.

Warnings: Yandere themes, stalking, thoughts of violence, manipulation, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Breezeblocks by alt-J

Waltz No. 2 by Dmitri Shostakovich (feat. The Dixie String Quartet)

Swan Lake by HAUSER

Claus by Los Tres

Doin’ Time by Lana Del Ray

Lie by BTS

She’s My Collar by Gorillaz (feat. Kali Uchis)

Cha Cha by Freddie Dredd

Michelle by Sir Chloe

MONTERO (Call Me By Your Name) - SATAN’S EXTENDED VERSION by Lil Nas X

*~*~*~*

The roses are wilting.

It was destiny, fate. Such pretty things never last forever, after all, even if the entire universe wished otherwise. One way or another, they are meant to fall, like how the sun drops below where anyone can see it, being replaced with the moon, and vice versa. They fall deep, deeper than hell itself, and no one can pick them back up, unless one would be inclined to make a pact with the devil himself, doing horrendous things in his name. But Kafka has already committed such sins, so why deny doing so any longer? It is who she is. It is who you are, to be entangled in her lies and be forced to dance and to sing and to act.

With two gloved hands, she picks up the vase, spilling out the moldy water and the dying roses, the roses she got for you after you sang so well at the opera house, looking so beautiful, into the trash can underneath your makeup vanity, where little clumps of hair and emptied products always meet their end.

She’ll get you a new bouquet later. A new vase too. Perhaps instead of white roses you would like red ones instead? Kafka knows that this vase is cheap too, from one of your fellow divas, whose high notes are not as high as yours and her costumes not as elaborate or as elegant as yours.

“I honestly don’t see why you even try to befriend any of them, darling. They are all envious harpies. They can’t hold a candle to anything you do.”

You are not here, but Kafka’s mouth always has a mind of its own, so it spins lies even when your delicate, lovely ears are not in the general vicinity. Not that she minds it. But yours is what she is quite more so than trifles with, because yours is carefully controlled by her and her alone, and you, as always, don’t get a say. It’s a sort of hypocrisy, Kafka thinks, but she doesn't mind that either.

If she has to, she’ll even sew your mouth shut, your ears shut, your eyes shut, if that is what it takes for you to stay with her. She doubts it would ever come to that, though, because you are always too fragile and too trusting to tell the difference between an Iago and a Desdemona. But the latter role would much better suit you, her little flower, her princess.

You are so precious, but also a treasure prying eyes will always want to touch and see and hear. Kafka would, in all honesty, love to cut their hands and tongues off, if it did not ruin the carefully crafted image she made just for you. Maybe later, though, when all the stage lights are off.

“Lady Macbeth, hmm?” She murmurs.

She disagrees with the role you were given entirely. But, you were not one to stand up for yourself, so Kafka let it go. 

“You really ought to leave this business soon, dearest.” Kafka looks around, her arms crossed, not impressed with the room you were given in the slightest. “You can always just come with me.” She meant it. “Imagine all the sights you would see. All the food you would eat. All the gifts I would be so happy to give you. All the hugs and kisses you would receive from me. Everything… just think about it.”

She could imagine it herself. It is not hard, really, for the mind to reject all sense of logic and bow down to the whim of what is known as human emotions, mortal joys, woes, desires, wants, and needs. She could imagine sitting you on her lap as the ship jumps to the next world she will have to visit, telling you stories of the past, present, and future, as you look on with amazement. You don’t do that anymore, now. She would do anything to see it come back. She would steal a crown and place it on your head, though you having the genuine article does not make you any stronger. If anything, perhaps it would make you weaker to her whims.

“Imagine that…” She sighs, closing her eyes as she smiles. “We can go to Penacony. Your dreams would come true there if I cannot make them true myself. You can sleep on beds worth more than this entire opera house. If only you would let me. I know it would make you happy. I know it would make me happy. So why wouldn’t it make you?”

She would listen to your ultimate pains, and your ultimate wishes, and act accordingly. She loved you. You will too, again. It is only a matter of time, isn’t it? Yes, Kafka thinks, it is fate. 

…

Kafka always sits in the front row of the theater.

It does not matter whether or not she purchased the tickets for it, the seat, or the show soon to come to fruition. No one dares talk back to her, even security. She finds comfort in that. No one gets in the way of her having the chance to see you. Better yet, no one else sits in the front row when she is present.

So, she watches, one of her legs crossed over the other, her eyes never blinking. During interludes she likes to adjust her makeup accordingly, painting on another shade of crimson to her lips. Art comes in many forms, after all.

Kafka told you that once. As always, you listened dutifully as she taught you to be.

She taught you many things, not just that. She taught you how to read constellations. She helped you learn her vocabulary in the books she gave you, often long fairytales or poems. She preferred it that way when you used to be so eager to have someone be friendly to you and not want to simply use you for their own amusement, not wanting to throw you out of the opera house altogether.

The opera house may rot after it goes up in flames, in the future, if things go her way as it always does, but she’ll stay to watch it all, to take you in as you cry and as she shushes you. She’ll be happy. Maybe you will be too, for her. It matters how good your performance is, if you even want to act anymore, after all.

The lights dim, and she shows her pearl-white teeth as she grins.

[hedgehog-moss]

(replying to this post)

That’s a good example of the perils of domesticating translations! It seems obvious that if you try to adapt an ongoing series by changing a main character’s hometown so it’s more local, at some point you’re going to run into problems, like a whole book where they visit their hometown, which will need an in-depth rewrite so it stays coherent.

The France-French translations of Baby-Sitters Club were still set in the US, so the characters had names that were slightly domesticated so as not to frighten French children, but not so much that it wouldn’t make sense for these girls to be American—e.g. Mary Ann became Mary-Anne vs. Anne-Marie in Québec French, and Dawn and Stacey became Carla and Lucy, which still sounds American to a French kid, but not as unconscionably American as their original names. (Part of it is finding names that won’t be difficult to pronounce—but the Famous Five kids had easily-pronounced names like Julian and Dick, and they still ended up heavily Frenchified, into François and Michel. And the books were set in Brittany in the French translations, instead of England, even though French kids could have handled reading a story that was set five metres to the left.)

I remember feeling puzzled about Nancy Drew at one point, because she’s such a household name in anglo literature and I’d never ever heard of her, so I was like, we’ve translated every other popular anglo series, why have I never seen a Nancy Drew book in a French library? And then I discovered that Alice Roy from the “Alice” book series in French was, in fact, Nancy Drew. It blew my mind—Nancy Drew is Alice!! omg, I did know her this whole time. I read somewhere that the French translation re-named her because French kids would have no idea how to pronounce “Drew” and because they would be more likely to associate “Nancy” with the French city of the same name, so it wouldn’t feel anglo enough. So, amusingly, it was a mix of domesticating and foreignising. 

One type of domestication that’s regrettably popular in children’s literature is “temporal” domestication—when you re-translate older books to modernise the language and remove references that would “confuse” today’s kids (not talking about changing aspects of the books that wouldn’t fly with today’s sensibilities, that’s another discussion.) In revised editions of the Famous Five books in the UK, “shall / shan’t” were changed to “will / won’t”, dated words like “horrid” became “horrible”, “trunks” -> “suitcases”, etc. It’s a form of domesticating translation—from 1950s English to modern English. Personally I’m not a fan of it, because in a lot of instances, “modernising” prose for children is synonymous with pruning it and dumbing it down.

In French children’s literature spatial domesticating is losing steam while this kind of temporal domesticating is on the rise—we now feel like French kids can handle reading about an English boy named Julian who lives in England, rather than making the story about François in Brittany, but apparently kids can’t handle reading about a boy who lives in the 1950s and speaks accordingly. In recent re-translations of the Famous Five books they changed the passé simple conjugations to the less complex present, and the “nous” to “on” in the kids’ dialogue among other things, to make the text less formal, more modern—and simpler. The Spanish revised editions have examples of both trends—George calls her father “Padre” in the original translation and “Papá” in the modern one (temporal domesticating—the UK reprints do the same thing, changing “Father” to “Dad”); the kids having tea was initially translated as “tomar el té”, while the new translation changed it to “merendar” (spatial domesticating—and sure, it’s a similar enough concept, but it erases cultural differences. If you’re reading about English kids you can accept that they refer to their snack time as la hora del té rather than la merienda...)

Idk, I think kids who enjoy reading can handle books about fictional children that don’t live and talk just as they do; identifying with people who are quite different from you is part of the fun of reading. I remember reading as a kid the Comtesse de Ségur children’s books which were written under Napoléon III, and the 19th century language was a delightful aspect of them—the fact that little kids my age used imperfect subjunctive in casual conversation was hilarious to me. I was saying in my previous post that domesticating your translation too much evinces a lack of respect for your reader’s ability to handle unfamiliar concepts, and I think we should try to have a little more respect for children in that regard.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

I'm Always Funny. You're Just Not Smart Enough To Keep Up. (Teaser!)

Max Verstappen X reader

Danny Ricciardo X reader platonic.

Not sure if anyone here is an F1 fan but I've recently gotten into F1 and I've started writing a small fanfiction of Max Verstappen Fake relationship Au! Please tell me if you like this and want the rest of it! Enjoy~

Max had just broken up with his long time girlfriend Kelly Piquet. 

They had disagreed on their future plans and had decided it would be better to part ways. It was an amicable split and Max still visited Penelope. However, the media wasn’t kind to him, not that it usually was.

Fans were in a roar over the split calling him all sorts of names for the past seven months.

It wasn’t too bad until the sponsors started to look a bit concerned over the state of the media.

Y/N, being a small town girl from Perth Australia, knew Daniel Ricciardo from when she was younger. His sister Michelle would babysit Y/N from time to time and that's how she came to meet the ever enthusiastic personality that was Daniel.

Daniel, alongside Michelle, had been like an older sibling to Y/N. He would always visit her or text her to catch her up on his state of affairs. 

After his ill-fated departure from Mclaren, to which Y/N was still fuming over. He had spent two months back in Australia, lounging around before Y/N and Michelle told him to get back into what he really loved.

Sure enough, Daniel returned to RedBull as a reserve driver alongside his old teammate Max Verstappeh and Sergio “Checo” Perez.

It was at this point Max had been receiving scalding comments and the Public Relations (PR) Manager had decided it would be a good idea for Max to date someone new with good media presence. Someone who the fans were bound to like.

That is exactly where Y/N came in. She had been featured on Daniel's social media before and made small cameo’s on RedBull and Mclaren videos, wishing Danny luck in his races or even supporting him in person.  

~~~~~~

Max walked alongside Y/N at a brisk pace. They were wading through the crowd of press just before the paddock and after the car park. Y/N was slightly uncomfortable with the firm grip that Max had on her hand but refrained from speaking up. He, after all, was paying her salary, so to speak. 

“Smile,” Max grunted out. Nodding at the press and giving half smiles in a seemingly out of character style. 

Y/N, who was already smiling hissed through her teeth.

“The hell you think I'm doin’ mate?” She then turned slightly away to wave at the photographers,

“Morning! Hope you’re all well rested! Make sure to drink enough water too!” She called out to the mass of people. Y/N understood that these people had to make a living and if you were nicer to them, they were bound to return the favour, although that was easier said than done.

Verstappen kept a pleasant expression as he continued to walk past people, signing hats along the way. 

“When can we stop this damn circus act?” He hissed into her ear, his voice sounding like the grind of gravel. 

“Whenever your PR Manager lets us.” She replied, her smile unfaltering as she kept walking beside him.

“This is all a stupid waste of money and time.” He grumbled under his breath. “This whole relationship thing and the sponsors.” Y/N cocked her head knowingly and replied,

"You need those sponsors and so does RedBull. Anyways, don’t give me a hard time because of it, yeah? I’m just doing my job to the best of my ability.” It wasn't as if she didn't want the money, however she also did it to help out Danny. Apparently the situation had made Max a little crabby.

Max sighed, “You have no idea who many different people we have to play happy couple for to satisfy the sponsors.” to which Y/N smirked and retorted with.

“I dunno, maybe the whole world, Mr Formula 1 World Champion?” Max rolled his eyes dismissively, effectively losing his facade.

“Do you know how much the sponsors pay me to keep you around? Don’t smart mouth me man.” He spat out, scowling and crossing his arms defensively. He pointed at the camera’s who had now turned back to you at the suddenly escalating conversation as moths were drawn to light.

Luckily they hadn’t heard the conversation, only seen the wild gestures that Max had thrown out in exasperation. 

Y/N, being the quick thinker she was, gently patted his shoulder and stepped closer to him,

“Calm down mate, they’re looking at us. Let’s just get inside the paddock yeah? Then we can argue when we get to the motor home.” She whispered slowly, hoping to ease his stress.

“Whatever, " Verstappen muttered, his voice ever harsh and monotonous.

He led her by the small of her back past the photographers and past the gates and into the paddock. He kept you firmly by his side while remaining silent. It seemed like he wasn’t going to talk until they were both tucked into a private building. Or as private as it would get.

As they briskly walked by, they passed some children who were staring in awe at Max. Y/N smiled at the children and tugged on his short sleeve gently.

“Max, give them an autograph! Look, they're so cute. This one’s wearing a mini version of your race suit!” She exclaimed, clearly taken by the children who were bubbling with energy.

Max, as a result of Y/N’s excitement, stopped walking and looked over at you with his signature grim expression before seeing the children. His eyes shifted and his expression became light hearted and almost charming.

“Yeah, alright I’ll sign a few things for you guys.” He grinned at the kids that had gathered around began thanking him incredulously in adoration as their favourite Formula one driver signed their shirts and caps.

Max suddenly turned to you with a small smile,

“Here,” he said, handing her a sharpie, “You should sign one too. They’ll like it.” Y/N shook her head, shy from the sudden attention. 

“But I’m not famous like you. They don’t know me.” She turned to the children, sheepish, waiting for them to collectively agree. Yet, to her surprise one of the younger girls reached out to hug her and exclaimed,

“I know you! You’re Max’s girlfriend! My older brother says you’re pretty!” The little girl beamed up at her and pointed at an older male of similar facial structure who was blushing.

Y/N laughed in surprise and smiled brightly at the young girl.

“Hey love! Would you like me to sign your shirt?” She kneeled down to face the girl and all the younger kids. The children that were now surrounding you went crazy, screaming “Yes!” and “Please!”

They held out their belongings for her to sign, clearly overjoyed. She laughed in delight while Max looked on, while chatting to other young fans.

Y/N gave each of them a hug before signing their shirts.

“Oh and here!” She took out a large ziplock bag that was filled to the brim with friendship bracelets she had made for the fans.

“Take these! There’s enough for all of you.” She ruffled the closest childs hair. Max watched in amusement as the children who were absolutely beside themselves, trying on their new bracelets.

“You’re good with the fans,” he said, actually sounding genuine and kind for once. Y/N shook her head, smiling and waving at the children still as they walked away.

“Nah, I just love the kids. I want them to have good memories that build into hope and motivation.” She looked at Max and gave him a small smile.

“That’s very kind of you.” Verstappen replied, sounding surprisingly sincere. They both walked towards the motorhouse and as they reached the entrance Max opened the door for Y/N and signalled for her to enter.

Y/N walked through, thanking him on the way and waved hello while passing all the staff and volunteers of the Red Bull team.

The pair made their way, through all the greetings and then into Max’s room where Max closed the door behind them both and then turned to face Y/N.

“Alright, no more fake smiles or pleasantries. He sighed, “Do you know how long we’re stuck with this whole fake relationship thing?” He asked while plopping down onto his bed, unceremoniously to which Y/N shook her head. She herself was unsure.

“Nope. I was hired for a year-long contract but it wasn’t definitive,” She sighed and sat down on his chair and spun to face him.

“I think it wouldn’t be too bad for us to be friends Max.” She sat forward with her elbows on her knees.

“It’s not like we’re attracted to each other. It would make life easier if we got along, no?" Max stared at her, inquisitive.

“Friends.” He said slowly, almost as if tasting the word before he tilted his head to say,

“Friends don't usually get paid to be with one another.” Max raised his eyebrows.

“But, I guess being friends wouldn't be too bad. It’s not like anything would happen between us anyways.” Y/N nodded and chuckled, 

“I mean, I get paid to pretend to be your girlfriend. We could totally do it from afar y’know?” she shrugged, smiling.

“That sounds like a great idea.” Max said sarcastically. 

“I’ll just yell ‘I love you’ through a megaphone at you from a distance and we’ll keep it going that way.” He smirked mischievously, crossing his arms to which Y/N burst into laughter in sheer surprise. 

“Right! That would get all the fans roaring.” She chuckled loudly, enjoying his dry humour.  She gave him a genuine smile before asking, 

“You’re really funny when you want to be huh?”

Verstappen rolled his eyes with a subtle upturn in lips at your amusement. Y/N had an instinct that he was proud of the reaction he got out of her.

“I’m funny all the time.” He retorted, “You’re just not smart enough to pick up on it.” He said with a cocky smile.

 

~~

AND THATS THE TEASER! please comment if you'd like the rest!? Thank You for reading!

[shujohajohaminnie]

His Pretty Cheerleader

Pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader

Genre: Smut, Fluffy 

Word Count: 4122

Summary: What happens when you come to find out the man you’ve had a crush on for the longest time also shares those same feelings for you? 

Afab!reader, Profanity, Pet names(Baby, Goodgirl,) Use of daddy, Drugs, Alcohol, Corruption kink, Raw sex (Wrap it before you tap it).

As smart as you are, you are also very clueless. Well… Lee Know wouldn’t put it in that way. “She’s just innocent” he defended you. “She’s a ditz” “So?” “So… you like 'em dumb?” Changbin mocked packing up his bag. “Shut up, can you help me or not” “How am I supposed to help you?” “I don’t know you're dating her friend!” “And tell Michelle what ‘Hey Lee Know wants to fuck Y/n you think you can help him out'… do you know how protective Michelle is over her… not only can I mess up what I got going on with Michelle, she can actually kill me” “You scared of your girl” I.N mocked his teammate. “Shut up man she’s scary” “GUYS BEFORE YOU GO HOME REMEMBER YOU NEED TO GET YOUR PICTURES TAKEN FOR THE YEARBOOK” The coach reminded them earning groans and complaints because they did in fact forget. 

____________________

You quickly got up putting away your notes from the meeting, It had already ran a little later than you expected. You needed to get home quickly before you made Michelle even more mad for prolonging her horror movie marathon. “Y/n?” “Yes?” You looked up from your bag to your teacher. “I need to talk to you really quick” “What’s up” “Jisung just called he won’t be able to make it for the photoshoot tonight” “Oh no is he okay?” “Yeah yeah it’s just a slight cold… but the reason I’m telling you this is because I need you to cover for him… It’s too late of a notice to reschedule” “Oh um sure… what was he supposed to shoot” “The football team” “Oh… uh you know what I don’t think I’ll be able to make it after all, I have this thing that I have to go to right now” “Y/n please” “Isn’t there anyone else that could do it?” “No… no one else is as good as you and Jisung are so please” “Sure… but I really do have to run afterwards” “It’s fine… I’ll edit the pictures tomorrow morning… the studio’s open just leave the SD card on my desk before you take off” “Yes sir” 

Great, you’ve been told various times by Michelle that you can be too nice when it comes to saying no to people. You could say no, You have said no to classmates but saying no to a teacher felt so wrong. “I thought Han was going to take the pictures” Changbin asked, walking into the studio with the rest of the team behind him. “Oh yeah uh he called in sick so I’m gonna be covering for him.” And there he was Lee Minho, the football team's captain, also the guy you’ve had a crush on since the fourth grade when he helped you off the floor after tripping on your own feet. You’ve had classes with him ever since but couldn’t muster up the courage to say more than two words to him. “You sure it’s not obvious” You’d constantly ask your best friend double checking to see if your crush was that noticeable. “It's only obvious to me 'cause I already know” she’d comfort you. “I’m kinda in a rush… I promised my friend I’d watch scary movies with her so I’ll be quick” “You like scary movies?” You locked eyes with him, you had the answer to his question but the words wouldn’t leave your lips, So you simply shook your head. “N-No but it is October” 

“Do you wanna look at them?” You asked, beginning to pack up. “We should really go” One of the boys spoke out leading the group out of the studio. “ You smiled waving at the group as they picked up their stuff and left. You began to pack up for the night ready for the wrath that would be bestowed upon you for being this late. “Uh hem” he cleared his throat causing you to jump in place. “Je-sus… you scared me-” you paused, turning around to see Minho staring at you from the entrance of the studio. “C-can I help you” “On second thought could I see the pictures” “Yeah sure just give me a second” You quickly took out the SD card walking over to the computer signing in and pulling up his individual shot. “It still needs to be edited… Mr.Yoon will edit them tom-” “No they look good what are you talking about” “You think?” “Yeah” he smiled sitting down in the chair next to you. “Can I” He motioned over to the mouse. You nodded quickly sliding the mouse to him, your fingers brushing against each other. He didn’t seem to notice, scrolling through the pictures smiling to himself. 

“You’re really good… you've been doing this since sixth grade right” “Yeah… how did you-” “Well I’ve seen you at my games with your camera and press pass for the past five years so it’s safe to say that I’ve noticed… although I haven’t seen you at my games lately” “Yeah…I’m not a photographer anymore. I’m an editor… which basically means I could do all positions… in-in yearbook I mean” He laughed, shaking his head at your words. “What is that for by the way” “What?” “The press pass” “Oh it basically lets me into the game for free” “Oh so what you’re saying is that you wouldn’t pay to watch me win” “No No I’m just-” “I’m just messing with you… but you know our girlfriends get in for free too right” “Yeah I noticed when Michelle would go in free to watch Changbin” “They’re cute together” “They really are” “We could be cuter” “I’m sorry?” He placed his hands on your cheek pulling you closer to him. He slowly kissed your lips causing you to freeze in place. The Lee Minho was kissing you. “You okay?” he pulled away, caressing your hand. “I needa go” You whispered, grabbing your bag and rushing out of the studio. “Y/N… Y/N ARE YOU OKAY” Changbin called out behind you, but you couldn’t respond your mind going a million miles per minute. 

____________________

Lee Know of course knew of your crush on him, because going against your friends' words it was obvious. He didn’t mind, because what you didn't know was that he too had developed a crush towards you. Ever since you helped him pass his English class in the eighth grade. Most of his tutors in the past made him feel like an idiot for not understanding the lectures, but not you, you never made him feel dumb. You simply made him feel comfortable. With said crush on you, something else harbored as the years went on. He had thoughts, thoughts about you. Thoughts of his head between your thighs making you scream out his name for everyone to hear. Thoughts of corrupting that little head of yours. These thoughts were only stronger this year seeing you in the school's short uniform skirts drove his mind insane every single time. The way that you’d cluelessly bend over to grab anything your clumsy ass would drop, not knowing you were showing Lee Know half of your ass in the process. He was lucky to get seated next to you this year in math, the feeling of your bare thighs brushing up against his every single time you moved in your seat. He wanted you, he didn’t care if you were in the middle of class. If he could have it his way he’d bend you over your desk and fuck you for everyone to see that you were his and only his.

____________________

You breathed out pressing your back against the door of your bedroom catching the attention of your best friend.“Fucking Fin- uh- lee you took forever I almost sent the police out to look for-...Y/n are you okay” “Nuh-uh… Lee Minho and I kissed” You blinked rapidly hearing the words come from your mouth made the situation even more real. “What the fuck happened at this meeting” “No it wasn’t at the meeting” “What I’m confused” You sighed dropping your stuff onto your bed and laying face down on your pillow screaming loudly. “What happened” “Mr. Yoon told me that Han wasn’t going to be able to make it cause he got sick… and since it was last minute he wasn’t able to reschedule the group that Han was supposed to take pictures for… so I had to cover” “I’m not understanding what this has to do with Lee Know” “The group Han was going to take pictures of… was the football team”  “Oh” “Yeah and so I took their pictures and they left… or so I thought, as I’m packing up Minho asks if he could see the pictures so I showed them to him… we start talking then he kissed me” “Did you kiss back” “No” you sighed throwing your head back against your bed frame, disappointment filling your body.“WHY” “I DON’T KNOW I PANICKED” “You think he likes you?” “NO” “NO?! He literally kissed you” “UGH I DON’T KNOW” You yelled screaming into your pillow again. “Y/n it’s okay… everyone has had a bad first kiss…it’s okay” Michelle whispered, rubbing her hand up and down your leg soothingly. “You gonna talk to him tomorrow?” “No” You groaned rolling over to lay in her lap. “Why not?” “I just wanna go to sleep, hopefully this is all just a bad dream” “We don’t kiss our crushes in our nightmares hon” “What do I do Michelle?” “Go to sleep I'll spend the night and we'll figure it out tomorrow” 

____________________

Your way of figuring it out? Run away from the problem entirely. You looked around making sure the ‘problem’ wasn’t around. You quickly unlocked your locker, grabbing the textbooks for your next class. “If I didn’t know any better I'd say you’re avoiding me” Minho smirked, leaning against the locker next to yours. “I’m not… I was uh late” “I saw you at breakfast” “Yeah I had to go to the studio” “During class?” “Mhmm yeah, duty calls” “Okay… What are you doing tomorrow” “Studying” “Ditch it… I’m having a party at mine for my birthday” “A cake and balloons party” You asked, closing your locker looking at him. “You’re cute… It's a shots and keg costume party” “I can’t” “You can” “What about your parents?” “What about them” “What are they gonna say” “They’re out of town” “Minho I-” “Call me Lee Know… Minho’s too… formal” he smiled, taking your phone, getting your phone number and texting you. “I’ll text you the address” “I-” “Come… for me” “I’ll try” “I’ll see you there” he smirked, kissing your cheek and walking away” Crap. 

“Hey Michy did you hear about Minho’s party” “Yeah Changbin was telling me about it… wait why you asking?” “He invited me” “He what” “He stopped by my locker and told me about it” “So you guys talked” “Well not intentionally I was avoiding him… I even missed math class” “So are you gonna go” “I don’t wanna” “Come on y/n you kind of have to go… if Lee Know invited you personally he definitely wants you there” “I don’t know I really have to study for my test on next Friday” “Come on you gotta go out… it’s senior year we have to celebrate” “We also need to make sure we pass senior year…plus I don’t even have a costume” “Well find something” 

And something we found, with the last-minute plans we were both left with the most basic choice. “You don’t think maybe this is a little too short?” You asked pulling down your white silk dress for the fifth time yet. “You look beautiful don’t worry about it” “Maybe we should go back to mine and change” “Y/n I promise you, it's fine you look great”. It really wasn’t too short, the silk nightgown that you had chosen made it mid-thigh, the school's uniform was weirdly shorter but it was the top portion you were unsure about. It had lace on the top portion with very thin straps, because of said thin strap you had no other choice but to go braless. “Can you see anything?” “No you can’t see a thing” Michelle comforted you, opening the car door for you. You finally arrived, you had that unsettling feeling as you walked up the steps to his house. Looking around you noticed the cups and bodies littering his front porch. “Maybe this is a bad idea” You turned around trying to walk back only for Michelle to pull you back. “We’ll stay for an hour… if you still wanna go home after that I’ll drive you myself… okay” "Okay" you nodded, turning around and ringing the doorbell. 

“Uh, Y/n what are you doing?” “Ringing the doorbell?”“You don’t ring the doorbell” Michelle laughed passing you and grabbing the door knob. “You just walk in” She opened the door revealing half of your class dancing around to the music blaring through the speakers. Red solo cups with alcohol in hand. “You made it” Minho smiled wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “What are baby” “I'm an angel” “Yeah you are” “and Michy's a dark angel” you smiled, taking Michelle's hand while Lee Know walked you through the crowd. “I’m sorry I didn’t bring you a gift.”You smiled pitifully “Don’t sweat it… You can make it up to me later… you look really good by the way”  he smirked leading the both of you to the kitchen where the island was decorated with various bottles of liquor. Surrounding the drinks were both of your close friends. “Guys Y/n… Y/n the guys” “Hyung we already know each other” Changbin laughed wrapping his arms around Michelle. “Fucking dumbass” Seungmin added punching Lee Knows shoulder. “How much have you had to drink” “Not much” “If not much is 8 shots then he’s right” “Minho” “I thought I told you to call me Lee Know” “Sorry force of habit” “Either that or daddy” “I think I’m going to stick to Lee Know” You smiled accepting the cup Seunngmin was handing you. “This is water right” “Nope that would be Soju” “Oh I don’t drink” “Do it for me” Lee Know smiled helping the cup to your lips. You slowly downed the drink feeling an unfamiliar sting in the back of your throat. This was too new. 

“Y/n do you wanna a hit” Felix asked, passing you the rolled blunt. You shook your head passing it to I.N who was sitting next to you. You were all currently trying to fit on Lee Know’s couch passing a blunt amongst the group. Michelle was on Changbin’s lap, I.N in the middle with Felix on his lap. You on Lee Know’s, and Seungmin laying on the back part of where the couch and wall met. Hyunjin lost somewhere in the crowd dancing with a drunked out Han, “You’ve never done this baby?” Lee Know smiled, placing the joint in between the lips inhaling the drugs into his system. He breathed out the smoke into your face. “I thought you guys weren’t allowed to do any of this stuff because of football” You asked looking at your friends “I do whatever I want. Whoever I want” Lee Know whispered moving your face to look at him “… whenever I want” His eyes darkened as he placed one hand on your thigh slowly trailing upwards. You unknowingly opened your legs wider for him. “You wanna try some baby?” he motioned over to the drug. “I’ve never” “It's okay princess I’m here… open those pretty lips for me” he instructed, You parted your lips allowing him to place the joint in between your lips. “Now do exactly what I say okay… You need to inhale” You inhaled “Hold it… Hold it y/n… hold it” You locked eyes with him as you felt the smoke begin to cloud your lungs. You began to cough, feeling the worlds around you begin to grow loopy. “How do you feel” “More” “More?” “More” you whispered, grabbing it from between his fingers. You didn’t know what was making you feel higher, the weed or you being here in Lee Know’s lap with his hands between your thighs. 

He was already corrupting you… he felt himself grow hard under you. The thought that he was already ruining you. He needed you. Now. 

“You wanna go upstairs?” “To do what” “You know what” He whispered against your ear kissing your neck softly. You nodded, not being able to form any words whatsoever. He led you upstairs slowly. Your head rushing at the thought of what would happen as soon as you two were alone. He opened his bedroom door leading you in. “This is my room” “Not bad” “Not bad?” “Well, I don’t really know what a guy's room is supposed to look like” You whispered sitting on his bed.

Oh you poor thing.

“Did I tell you how good you look” “Yeah when I walked in” Your breath hitched at the feeling of his lips grazing the skin of your neck. “Well, you do… You look so fucking good” He whispered kissing and sucking on your neck surely leaving marks to remind you later that this really happened. “Minho” “What did I say?” he groaned, laying you down. “L-Lee Know” “Hmm?” “I’ve never uh-” “It’s okay baby… I’ll just have to be gentle with you” He kissed down your neck stopping right above your chest. “You sure you wanna do this”. You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at him. He slowly peeled the straps of the costume down exposing your bare chest to him. “You gonna be a good girl for me?” “Mhmm”

Lee Know smiled at the reaction he had on you, all he was doing was just kissing you and you were already clenching your thighs together moving slightly for some friction. He parted his lips slightly around your right nipple, swirling his tongue around slowly while his hand rolled the left one between his fingers. You moaned, quickly bringing your hand up to your mouth to muffle your sounds. “It’s okay… they can’t hear you… you can be as loud as you want”. That was all the conformation you needed. Moving your hand to let out the most pornographic moan as you felt Lee Knows free hand reach down to your sopping cunt. “You’re so wet for me already… you dirty little girl… you really wanted this huh” “Mhmm” “Say it” “Yes” “Yes what” “Yes daddy” You moaned, your hand grabbing his forearm as he began to draw little circles on your clit over your wet panties. “T-take them off… please” “Well I usually don’t take orders” He laughed slipping off your underwear “But since you asked nicely” He continued his motions on your bud. You were still incredibly high, the both of you were. You swear the room was spinning as he circled your clit. “What do you want princess… tell daddy what you want” “Y-Your mouth” “Where baby” “He- here” You motioned to you cunt. Of course he knew what you meant but he needed to hear you. 

He took his time taking in the image of your dripping pussy. It glistened with your wetness. You were so beautiful like this. It was even better than he ever imagined. He kissed you softly, licking your juices off his lips. You tasted better than he thought. “Lee know please” “Shhh shhh… it’s okay baby I’m not going anywhere” He whispered, spreading your lips to see you… all of you. The sight itself was enough to make him cum on the spot, but he had to hold it, hold it for you. He licked a long stipe from your entrance to your clit. Without warning he used his tongue to mirror the motions he was doing with his fingers on your clit. You moaned arching your back at the bliss X ten you were feeling due to the drugs. “I’m gonna finger you okay… needa stretch you out for me” He pulled away looking at you, you nodded quickly closing your eyes preparing yourself for him. Now you’ve fingered yourself before but that was nothing compared to Lee Know’s fingers. He started off slowly inserting just one going at a slow pace while he sucked on your clit. He moaned against your cunt sending vibrations right through you driving you absolutely insane. He put in another going at a faster speed. “FUCK LEE KNOW” You yelled gripping his hair feeling a knot in your stomach. “I think I’m gonna come” “Let it go baby… cum on my face princess” His words were enough you did as instructed letting go on his fingers. You were a mess, his mess. “Still with me baby?” he asked, licking every single drop that seeped from your entrance. “Mhmm” you smiled, pulling him closer to connect your lips to his. He pulled off his pants aligning himself at your entrance pulling away from your kiss. He wanted to see you. He wanted to see the innocence leave your eyes. Slowly he sank into you, watching as your face contorted into a mix of both pleasure and pain. “It’s gonna hurt… just give it a second okay” He whispered, brushing some of your hair out of your face. “Tell me when okay” “M’kay” you mumbled searching for his hand grabbing his finger as you adjusted around him. 

You began to thrust your hips against him, a tell-tale that you were ready. “Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop okay” “M’kay” you nodded your other hand wrapping around his arm. He began to thrust slowly in and out of you, careful to not hurt you, but the moans that were spewing out of you were a sign that he was not. “Fuck you’re so tight” He groaned shutting his eyes at the feeling of you around him. This was definitely better than he ever imagined. His speed increased intentionally going at the pace of the music blaring downstairs. He was hitting that special spot with each thrust drawing you closer and closer. This moment felt euphoric to the both of you. You swear you felt your body rising off the bed the closer you got your second orgasm. Time didn’t feel real, nothing did. “I’m gonna cum” You moaned, your nails digging into his arm. He felt the pain but couldn’t care less, you could draw blood for all he cared. “Cum for me baby… cum for me” You hugged him pulling his body closer to yours. You scratched at his back as you tightened around him cumming at the sounds of his grunts and groans at your ear. He kissed your neck, the feeling of you tightening around him throwing him over the edge. He pulled out quickly cumming on your costume. “Fuckkkk” he groaned, laying down next to you. 

The both of you laid in silence catching your breath. “You okay?” you smiled turning to look over at him. He was already looking at you worried that he overdid it and hurt you. “I’m more than okay” You whispered intertwining your fingers. “Can I tell you something” He asked, worried of how'd you react. “Hmmm?” “I like you… a lot” “You do” “Mhmm” “Why didn’t you tell me anything” “I tried… last year in Science class… I tossed you a note… you grabbed it and gave it back to me and said” “I think you dropped this” you finished his sentence cringing at your own stupidity. “Yeah” “Yeah I’m an idiot” “No you’re just oblivious” “That too” you laughed looking down. “I like you too” “I know” “You do?” “It was obvious” he laughed pulling you close to him. “Lee Know” “Yeah?” “my costume… it's ruined” you whispered feeling bad about bringing it up. “It’s okay princess… I’ll give you my Jersey… so you can dress up as my cheerleader” 

Let's just pretend I didn't post this a day after Lee Knows birthday, but I do have bad news… I have to go camping this weekend so there's a high possibility I won't be able to post. I should have wifi but if I can't i'll just post the day after I come back. 

[promiscuouscutie]

All Yours pt. 7

Ethan Landry x fem. Reader, reader is a little naive and Ethan’s obsessed, eventual smut Part 8 Word Count: 2471

Warnings for this part: voyeurism, mentions of losing virginity, masturbation, Ethan having dirty thoughts lol, mentions of murder

You've never felt so ready to leave your math class. You usually lived and breathed statistics, but your mind was elsewhere in those sixty minutes. You thought about his hands on your hips, the way he looked at you with hooded eyes the night he kissed you. God, the way he kissed your jaw, trailing more down your neck to make you giggle at the feeling. You found yourself smiling down at your notes, thinking about how his kisses could make your stomach do flips endlessly. You couldn't believe you had a boyfriend. You couldn't believe Ethan Landry was your boyfriend.

The boy who was always there, willing to listen to you ramble. The boy you first met in Photography I at the beginning of the semester. Who would've known you both had taken AP Art throughout high school, getting the credits needed to take higher art courses in college? That truly was luck; Ethan didn't even know you existed until the first day of classes:

He got in the classroom early, picking a desk in the middle. Five minutes before class started, you rushed in, sweat dripping down your temple. You had gotten lost on campus, but it thankfully did not make you late. You eyed the room, finding yourself locking eyes with the curly-headed boy. You wiped the sweat from your face and walked right over to him with a soft smile on your face. He kept his eyes on you, his heartbeat picking up more and more as you got closer to him. And finally, you said your first words to him:

"Is anyone sitting here?"

He almost forgot he could even speak. He cleared his throat and replied "No. No one's sitting there." A simple answer to a simple question made him feel like he would pass out, getting taken off campus on a stretcher. But you sighed with relief and set your stuff on the desk. You told him your name, and he told you his. You said his name was cute, and he bashfully thanked you. Ever since then, he's wanted you to be his.

Your professor finally closed her packet up and turned the projector off, dismissing everyone. You were one of the first to stand, ready to leave the room, but a voice called your name. You turned to see Mia, a girl you had tutored in the past. She was always kind to you, and a very good listener. She thought your notes were a godsend, and you appreciated the compliment. You hadn't hung out so much outside of class besides tutoring, which you didn't mind. But the two of you would text: she'd send you pics of new jewelry she made, and you'd send her pics that you took around campus, adding to your photography collection.

"Do you even feel ready for this next test?" She asked.

"Sorta. It's kinda hard to think about a test when.."

"..When students are being murdered, yeah. I get the feeling," She finished your train of thought. You sighed, gripping the strap of your bag. Three had died so far, but who was to say the numbers wouldn't go up? It worried you greatly. It was impacting the morale on campus as well. Some students weren't showing up to their classes, afraid of getting hurt.

"I knew one of the students that got murdered," Mia admitted.

"Me too." The thought of Michelle came to mind instantly. As much as you didn't like her, you wouldn't have wanted her killed.

"He was nice, sorta. I mean, we talked about movies a lot. He had a thing for slasher films. Used to go on and on about them. But between you and me," she leaned in close, "He seemed too fascinated in the gore of it. It was kinda unsettling." You shivered at the thought. Mia sighed, pulling a hair tie from her wrist.

"But he was nice. I'll miss the guy," she frowned as she put her curls into a ponytail.

"It's terrible. So depressing," you added.

"What is?" A voice chimed in. You turned to find Ethan standing there, making you gasp a little. He had on a baby-blue collared t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his hair looking a little frizzy. You noticed how his muscles looked in the shirt, making your heart race a little.

"You're here," you smiled. Ethan didn't tell you he was coming; you had planned to meet him with the group after your classes were done, and you still had one class left for the day.

"Of course. I wanted to see you," he smiled. You could feel your cheeks warming up as Mia narrowed her eyes at your boyfriend.

"Mia! This is my boyfriend, Ethan. Mia's a friend of mine-"

"We've met before," Mia cut you off. You raised both your eyebrows, surprised. You looked up at Ethan, who had no expression on his face as he stared at her.

"Oh! Do you guys have classes together?" You questioned.

"We went to high school together," Mia explained. Well, what a small world!

Ethan's hand snuck around yours, pulling you closer to him. "Can we get going, pretty?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded, squeezing his hand.

"I'll see you later Mia, okay?" You smiled, waving at her. Ethan kissed your temple, already turning to leave, pulling you with him. As Ethan kept you glued to his side, he looked back at Mia, glaring at her. You didn't notice, too busy fumbling with the zipper on your black jacket. His grip on your hand stayed until you made it out of the building. He dropped it and sat on the nearest bench under a tree.

"So, tell me about your class. How was it, pretty?" He smiled, staring at you. You smiled widely, immediately going on and on about all the things you learned, the little moments where your professor made you laugh, and the doodles you put on the margins of your notes. He didn't interrupt your rambling, simply taking everything in. He couldn't believe you were his girlfriend, his first one at that. All the time he spent obsessing over you amounted to this: calling you his sweet, dumb thing. Not that you were dumb; you were a smart girl. You just had this sense of innocence; you lacked experience. Something about that drove him crazy; it played out in his fantasies all the time:

You'd be whimpering as he spread your thighs apart, showing him out much you were aching, dripping in your panties. He'd groan at the sight of the growing wet patch, whining as he rubs you through your panties. You'd start mewling at the friction, almost on the verge of begging for him to be rougher. He'd slip your panties off and shove them in his pocket, knowing he'd fuck his cock up into them later. He'd press his lips all over your thigh as he rubs your clit in a circular motion, getting closer and closer before meeting your pussy face-to-face. As he starts to suck on your--

"Ethan?? Did you hear me?" Your voice perked up in his ears, bringing him out of his thoughts.

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking," He looked at the ground, avoiding your eyes. You took some steps forward, standing in between his legs and playing with his hair. "About what?" Ethan grins, trailing his eyes up your body to meet your face.

I'm thinking about how you'd taste on my tongue. "Just thinking about how beautiful you are," he sighed. You blush profusely as you kiss his forehead. “You’re too cute.” He moved his head back to look up at you, his lips forming a grin once again.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asked.

“Nothing much. I was gonna review for my stats exam, but that's about it. Why?" you asked.

"Well, I was wondering if I could come over."

"Oh! Yeah! That'd be great. We could invite the others too, have a little study-"

"No." Your eyebrows raise at the interruption. "No?" You repeat.

"I was thinking we could hang out alone. Just me and you." Ethan stared with alluring eyes, trying to persuade you. And it worked! You felt yourself melting, brushing your fingers against his.

"I'd like that! That sounds nice.." You trail off for a moment, "What do you wanna do?" Ethan had some ideas in mind, all of which involved you becoming a blubbering mess.

"Hm, I don't know! I could help you study, or we could watch movies together," he suggested.

"We can watch scary movies!"

"Yes! What about slashers?" You cringed at the thought, shaking your head.

"I don't think I could sit through one of those, considering everything that's been happening recently." For a moment, Ethan forgot about the killings. He forgot the part he played in the torment of the Carpenter sisters. He forgot the mission his father wanted to complete as a family, to avenge his older brother.

For a few minutes, he was just a boy, talking to the girl he loved.

"Oh! Y-yeah. Sorry. I didn't even think about it."

"It's okay. We'll figure something out," you smile. His heartbeat quickened again, feeling pulled into your presence.

"Of course we will, pretty." He pressed his lips on your temple before pulling out his phone, groaning at the texts his sister sent:

Stop talking to your plaything and hurry up. Dad wants to meet. -sis

Omg I can see the vein popping out of your forehead -sis

Little brooo lets gooo :0 -sis

"What's wrong, E?" He shoved his phone back into his pocket, scoffing at his sister's impatience.

"I have to go."

"Already?" You felt sad, wishing this moment would last longer. He lifts your chin up, looking at your pouty lips.

"Don't be sad. I'm coming over tonight, remember?" You nodded, and he pulled your face into a kiss. He selfishly wanted to leave you longing for him, whiny. He deepened the kiss towards the end before pulling away, making your cheeks warm up.

"I'll text you when I'm on my way tonight!" He called out.

"Okay! See you soon!" You both go your separate ways, thinking about the other, wondering what would await when the night sky came.

"He's coming over?!" Annika gasps as she put the dishes away. You groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch.

"Yes, Anika! And I'm freaking out! What am I supposed to wear?? The clothes I already have on?? What do I do?!" You can hear Anika laughing at your helplessness, not having a care in the world.

"Girl, just put on some comfy clothes. You said you might watch movies, right?" You peek your head over the cushions, like a deer in headlights. "Yeah?"

"That'll be the perfect time to cuddle with him! Wear comfy clothes! Wait, is he sleeping over?"

"I didn't think that far ahead," you say sheepishly.

"Well if he does, I'm not gonna be here. I'll be at Mindy's again, so don't worry about me interrupting you two," she smirked. You roll your eyes at the comment. You jumped off the couch, standing on your feet. "Can you help me pick out my clothes?"

"Of course!" She smiled sweetly. You always appreciated Anika's advice when it came to clothes. She could praise you and make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. She'd help you pick out outfits to add to your wardrobe all the time. It was safe to say she had heavy influence over the clothes in your dresser. But that wasn't a bad thing! She had great style and helped you find your own.

As you slipped on different outfits, you found yourself remembering the first kiss again. The way he pulled you into his lap, the heavy breathing between the both of you, the way he grabbed your ass. Would he do that tonight? Would he want to go further and have sex? Am I even ready?

You were gonna be honest: you've never had sex. You never felt comfortable getting to that point with anyone in high school, but now you were in college, and you had Ethan in your life. You've touched yourself before, explored your body at night when you were alone. Ethan could attest to that; he'd seen you through the hidden camera in your room.

He replayed the footage on his laptop every night, watching you get yourself dressed and ready for bed. His hands would wander when your hand journeyed down your body, into your underwear. He'd patch your pace, trying to cum at the same time as you. He imagined his hand was yours, coaching him through the process. He relished in the expressions you'd make as you bit your lip, getting closer and closer. He couldn't believe how dirty you were, his little plaything. As much as he hated when Quinn called you that, he found himself liking it recently. It was probably the relationship change, going from friends to boyfriend-girlfriend.

Speaking of Ethan, while you were finding the perfect outfit, he was listening to his father drone on and on about the Carpenter sisters. He and his sister, Quinn, sat beside each other at the kitchen table. He couldn't recall the last time the three of them had been in this house, the house they grew up in. There was a time when Richie woudl lighten the room, putting a smile on everyone's face, even their mom's. The memory of his mother's face made him shudder, bringing him back to reality.

"Ethan? Any updates?" His father repeated.

"What?"

"UPDATES. On the Carpenter sisters. You got anything?"

"O-oh. No. Sorry," he averted his eyes. His father scoffed, rubbing his eyes.

"Ethan, you've got to be fully in this. Alright? You can't just walk away. They killed my son, your brother. Have you forgotten that?"

"No sir."

"Good! Is there anything you can tell me? Maybe someone we have to watch out for?" Ethan furrowed his eyebrows, thinking. "Someone recognized me from high school."

"Who?"

"This girl, Mia. She and I used to be friends when Richie was still around, but after he died, we kinda grew apart." His father narrowed his eyes. "So she knows you're related to Richie."

"Yeah."

"Hm. Interesting. Has she said anything to you?"

"No. But she didn't look happy to see me." Quinn glanced at him, growing anxious.

"Quinn could make a visit to this...Mia girl." Ethan's eyes grew wide. "What? No! She hasn't done anything. She just recognizes me."

"Son, I'm not taking any chances. We can't have anyone connecting us to these killings. We need alibis, so find one for yourself tonight. Understand?"

"But dad, she doesn't-"

"Do you understand?" He repeats with a louder voice. Ethan shrinks in his seat, only nodding. His father smiled. "Good."

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