#seems only fair they should get a tag…
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I actually can’t… [clip]:
I mean, just look at them!
They are so wholesome, c!Tubbo even dubbed them the fishing gang, :D so I guess scratch the original bench trio [context]
#punz just wants to be included…. he just doesn’t want to be alone!…. he just wants to be friends#c!punz#c!tubbo#c!tommyinnit#c!tommy#didn’t even try to kill him here :)#dsmp#dream smp#dishing up lore#dsmpblr#c!fishing gang#seems only fair they should get a tag…#dsmp lore#c!clingyduo#plus 1 <3#punz is so cute…
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Unfortunately all chatgpt is good for is interview/job application stuff which I think says a lot about the hiring process as a whole
#wrenfea.exe#as an actual artifical intelligence? no its horrible bc it really ISNT one#its a writing synthesizer it generates writing based on data searches and boundaries from training#thats what a neural network is its a very convoluted input-output sequence#it has no capacity to understand the meaning behind what it generates#it is simply generating the specific things that the user is looking for#the job interview process has become so robotic and automized that ai fits in perfectly#but employers HATE that people are turning to chatgpt for cover letters and interview answers#so it was fair for them to use filtering programs to accept/deny applications before it got in front of an actual human being#and its ok for them to use ai and pre-written formats to make job announcements descriptions and interview questions#but god forbid we are forced to use those exact same tools to get a humans attention so we can get a job and not starve#pushing aside the whole copyright debate on chatgpt and the environmental impact of its power usage btw#im soley analyzing how its become commonly utilized on both sides#by interviewer and interviewed#the mechanization of the whole process is now on both sides#it just seems very inhuman..#its also how some people have figured out how to somehow become employed multiple times by the same company due to lack of human oversight#and how automated theyve made their hiring process#probably should have made these tags into a separate reblog oops#also disclaimer do not cut and paste right into your application materials bc chatgpt often just lies#also many places now can tell you used chatgpt due to how similar its answers are#i only use it to make a template and see how things can be phrased to be more professional and buzzwordy#id never use it for something actually creative#and dear god do not write academic essays with it#i tried using it to supplement my own cover letter template but it was too robotic even for a cover letter#it is very good at accessing and summarizing publically available information#thats all it does not make sure the information is true or good
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charming and good: dr prism and solaris, both being ex-zoraxis operatives who don't feel safe enough to turn to the agency, working together post the events of 3 to pursue their crafts without death or capture looming above their necks
charming and evil: solaris- through prism- learns that anna is alive, and immediately drops everything she is doing to find her and tear her limb from limb for being the catalyst to the destruction of her death engine
#ieytd#just realized i've never tagged anna until now. underrepresented girlie#anna ulanova#commander solaris#roxana prism#honestly i'm not confident that solaris is unaffiliated with zoraxis nowadays. if only because it seems strange from a storytelling-#-perspective to label her as one of zoraxis' dangerous forces behind zor and the fabricator before immediately having her quit#BUT. i do think the thought of her just like. fucking off to go do... solaris things is really hilarious#and i think she should get a bloody violent rage arc#i think anna's potential relationship- or lack thereof- with solaris is a VERY undertapped concept#literally were it not for the intel she supplied the handler would probably be dead. the death engine would have succeeded.#zoraxis knew anna provided SOME intel to the agency. but i wonder if they knew what. i wonder if they figured it out after DE-#-or if they assume the infiltration was a quirk of the phoenix's lucky streak.#i think if solaris knew... dear lord. i think she would lose her mind. and she's ALIVE?? solaris nearly BLEW UP. her life's work GONE.#i love anna but i can't really deny the facts. she kind of set the rest of solaris' life up for rage and misery.#she can get a little butchered about it. it's only fair.
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i'm starting to think living with 5 other people may simply be a problem
#vent post#negative#i've come to the conclusion i'm not getting enough sugar in my daily meals#(which is. ironic in a lot of ways. but i don't know what else the problem would be)#and that's great that's cool that i've come to this conclusion. i don't think i can solve this one#we don't buy that much sugary or junk food stuff anymore#my dad's got diabetes that makes sense that's understandable#so a lot of our family meals are like rice and meat and a salad#but yknow i'm not really gonna ask my parents to change that! it's been like that for a long time now it's fine it's alright#but i don't think i can actually solve the problem#i. already have a lot of foods that the rest of my family isn't allowed to touch. because i am So Picky#and when they were eating my foods more often i was Starving#i don't. think. i can ask for more. and you know what that's fine! that's fine that's ok i like my meals they're tasty as hell#what about snacks then? can we get snacks for the whole family? well no#we stopped buying more junk foodish snacks because it was All my siblings were eating#and it was bad! it was bad they shouldn't have been doing that. but now i don't think my parents trust us to be responsible with snack food#so our snack foods are. protein bar. fruit snacks (i had to request these specifically). popcorn#that's. that's fine. that's fine maybe i should be focused on fruit instead! fruit is good sugar!#well we don't store fruit i like the way i like it (don't put it in the fridge) so i never eat any of it anymore#but everybody else seems fine with it so really i'm not going to win this argument cause everybody else actually eats it more when it's out#(i don't think this is true. but i think it's true for My Dad and My Mom specifically.)#and i just. it really got me thinking about how much i don't have foods that i like in the house or meals that i love because Somebody Else#likes it done differently and not the way i like it#and that takes priority#to the point where i don't know what the fuck kind of foods i like because we just don't. have. any#i prefer white rice. mom prefers brown so we get brown. i prefer crunchier potatoes. mom prefers them soft so we make them soft#i like my fruits cold. my parents prefer to be able to See the fruits so they stay on the counter. i only eat chicken breast not any other#part of the chicken. my parents prefer thigh meat so we get thigh meat (which i don't eat)#oh huh. this post was a lot longer but tumblr deleted half the tags. yeah that's fair
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currently having a queer identity crisis on this accursed holiday
#but actually. i’ve realized that like. 95% or more of my attraction to men has been comphet#i thought it wasn’t because i’ve been more or less identifying as bi since i was 11#so like. i figured if i didn’t like men at all i would’ve figured it out sooner?#it wasn’t until a couple years ago that i resolved to stop dating straight & masculine guys because i feel like i’m performing for them#and my current partner of 2.5 years is amab and socially perceived as a man but he’s bi and sees himself as ‘void of gender’#which is also the way i see him but not the way most people see him#he does get mistaken for a woman a fair ammount though. which brings us both a lot of joy lol#but anyway. my crisis is that i’ve been feeling more and more detached from the bi label because i feel like it implies attraction to men#and i’ve known for a little while now that i’m almost exclusively attracted to femininity and androgyny#and primarily attracted to women in general#like if i weren’t with my partner i would 100% be out there dating women and maybe? identifying as a lesbian#but i feel like i have no claim to that label especially with my current partner who is not a woman and is much more androgynous than fem#idk. do i keep calling myself bi? it feels like i’ve slipped away from it#i’ve been using queer a lot more lately because umbrella terms are the only thing that seem to make sense to me anymore#i know labels can be super complicated and unhelpful in some cases but i also want to know where my place is in the community ya know?#i feel so confused without a solid label and it’s causing me a lot more stress than it should#(also my partner is such a blessing and said he’d be supportive if i ever felt i needed to leave him to be with women)#(like he said ‘i’d be sad for a while but i’d still be your best friend) and i was just 🥺#this may be even longer than my last tag novel lmao i just hate the idea of putting this stuff in the body of the post#anyway if any pals/mutuals read all that and have any insight or advice i’d be curious to hear#reena.txt
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AO3 Etiquette -UPDATED
Based on both decent and not so decent replies, I have made some changes to my original post below.
It would seem a whole new kind of AO3 reader/writer is emerging and it is becoming clear not everyone quite understands how the website community works. Here is some basic guidance on how most people expect you to go about using AO3 to keep this a fun community archive that funtions correctly:
As well as likes, kudos is for when the story was interesting enough to make you finish reading. If it sucked or was badly written, you probably left. If you finished it, you liked it - so kudos.
If you really liked it, you should try to comment. It can be long and detailed or a literal keysmash. Writers don't care, we just love comments.
No critisism unless the author has specifically asked or agreed to hear it (so use your notes to say if you want some constructive feedback). Even constructive critisism is a no-no unless an author note tells you it's okay. No, posting it online is not an open invitation for that. Many people write as a fun hobby or a way to cope with, among other things, insecurity and just want to share. Don't ruin that for them. I've seen so many authors just stop writing coz they can't handle the negative emotions the critism brings, and it's only meant to be a fun thing shared for free (pointing out tagging errors is not included in this).
Do not comment to ask the author to write/update something else. It's tacky and off-putting and will probably have the opposite effect than the one you want.
There is no algorithm, it's an archive. Use the search and filter function to add/remove the pairings/characters/tropes etc. you want to read about and it will find you the fics that fit the bill.
For this to work, writers must tag and rate stories. This avoids readers finding the wrong things and missing the stuff they want. I don't care how cringy that trope is in your eyes - it gets tagged.
The tag exception is if you don't want to tag a million things or spoil your story, you can rate it as "chose not to use warnings," and maybe tag the bare minimum.
Don't censor tags. How can someone exclude a tag if the word isn't typed out correctly? There are no content bans for terms so don't censor them.
If the tags are mostly content/trigger warnings, especially if they are things considered very fucked up or graphic, you might want to use "dead dove - do not eat" to ensure people know that you're not messing around with tags and what they get is exactly what you've warned them about.
Character A/Character B means a ROMANTIC or SEXUAL relationship of some kind. Character A&Character B is PLATONIC, like friendship or family.
Nothing is banned. This is an rule because banning one thing is a slipperly slope to banning another and another, until nothing is allowed anymore. Do not expect anyone to censor for you. Because of the tags system, you are responsible for your own reading experience.
People can create new chapters and sequels/fic series any time after they "complete" a story. So it's considered perfectly normal to subscribe, even to a finished story. You can even subscribe to the author instead just to cover your bases.
Do not repost stories or change the publishing date without an extremely good reason (like a complete top to bottom rewrite or an exchange youve written for going public). It's an archive, not social media. No one cares what's the most recent, only what fits their tag needs.
Instead of deleting a story you wrote if you hate it - consider making it anonymous or orphaning it so others can still enjoy it, without it being connected to your name anymore. If you still want to delete it, fair enough.
It's come to my attention that metaworks ARE allowed on AO3, which is something I wasn't aware of. So if you do post an essay or theory, please tag it as such so others can choose to search for it or exclude it. Art is also allowed.
The only reason this archive works is because NON ONE PROFITS. Do not link to your ko-fi or patreon or mention monetary gain in any way or you violate the terms and risk having your account removed. If anyone does link, it leaves the archive open to people claiming it's for profit and having the whole thing removed.
I KNOW there's plenty more I missed but I'm trying to cover most of the basics that people seem to be struggling with.
I invite anyone to add to this, but please explain, don't berate.
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even if it is the wrong timeline I'm glad we got to meet at least
feliix i am glad too!
#blahblah#i tried to say the same thing but failing at wording like usual#telling ya its not all fully wrong fucked up bcs if it were i don't think we would ever hang out#likely internet would pop up into existence later or/and only the v rich ppl would be allowed to use it that sort of scenario etc#it could have been worse and it could have been better#like someone once said the world as a place of existence is fair its just some humans doing unfair shit out there#i have been digging into possible meanings whatifs and whys for ages and love was the only answer worth living for so far#even as it often seems like it's non existent or twisted up too much -its still here to experience eventually#loving and being loved not regarding ppl only but also regarding stuff esp doing things you enjoy/love doing#kay i am getting sappy rambling in tags lol ill shut up#i just wanna tell you are not alone in dealing with shit#it's a whole long glitchy train we all ended up in#going to who knows where not sure if should know likely to crash but also somehow managing to arrive anyway
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I know I put this on the tags of that "horses will eat meat and eggs" post but like if that's all it takes for people to get freaked out and think horses are deranged then they should also be aware that almost all other herbivores do the exact same thing. It's actually seems to be way less common for herbivores to eat 100% only plants than it is for them to eat meat occasionally (koalas are one of the suspected few strict herbivores bc their diet and digestive system is so specialized). They don't go out searching/hunting for it like carnivores and omnivores, but if they stumble across some carrion or some eggs (or some particularly easy live meat), that's fair game, even moreso if other food is scarce.
Like,,,,Deer will eat dead fish and rabbits, and have been recorded eating dead deer also. They've also been recorded eating live hatchlings from bird nests. Rabbits will scavenge birds a lot, and also do scavenging cannibalism. Snowshoe hares have been recorded scavenging a lynx, which is ironically their main predator when alive. Elephants will eat fish. Cows will eat live birds just right of the ground, along with eggs they may find.
Horses aren't deranged bc they'll eat meat, they're deranged bc theyre like if you put the ghost of a psychically-sensitive victorian child into the body of a 1500 pound mammal.
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New Girl || GR63
☆ summary: george has got himself a new partner and fans are obsessed but can’t seem to find her on social media
☆ pairing: george russell x nonfamous!reader
☆ fc & warnings: none
☆ requested: yes!! thank you for taking the time to request 🤍
☆ part 2 here
ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ
F1Gossip has made a post
liked user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, user6 and 15,637 others
f1gossip: looks like george russell has been getting cozy with his new partner over summer break! here’s what we know so far about gr63’s new girl: 1) her name is y/n, 2) she’s not famous (that we can verify), and 3) she has no social media. if any of you have any information, let us know!
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user1: so it IS possible to be a wag and not be a famous model. there is hope 😫
user2: when is it my turn ?!!?!?!!!
user3: how is it possible she has no socials
user4: i went through all of george’s followers and can’t find a single one that looks like her
user5: i have dug through every pocket of the internet and can’t find her either
user3: honestly if we can’t find her then she def isn’t on here bc y’all are like the fbi
user6: oh to be a normal girl AND be george russell’s partner
user8: she’s living my dream
user9: if she goes to zandvoort one of y’all BEST ask her some questions
user10: or at least get some photos 😭
user11: i’m like 90% sure she went to uni with my brother - he says he recognizes her from one of his classes. so she MAY have gone to [insert university]
user9: obsessed with these CRUMBS
user10: y/n if you see this we accept u with open arms
user12: maybe just maybe george will hard launch over break so we can get more crumbs
gerogerussell63 added to his private story
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alex_albon: georgie mate when am i going to meet this girl???
georgerussell63: she might be at zandvoort! we’re taking things a bit slow
alex_albon: says the man who has paparazzi photos of him and his girl sucking face
georgerussell63: alright alright fair point. y/n is just really shy and i don’t want to overwhelm her. maybe we do something low key together during break ?
alex_albon: i get it mate don’t worry!
landonorris: 👀
georgerussell63: 🤭
danielricciardo: oooo who is this?
georgerussell63: my girl ☝🏻
danielricciardo: thank you captain obvious 🧡
lilymhe: she’s so cute!! can’t wait to meet her 🤍
georgerussell63: you’re gonna love her. alex and i planned a double date for the 4 of us 😉
lilymhe has posted to her story
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user1: IS THAY GEORGE
user2: GEORGE AND Y/N SPOTTED??????
user3: this is the first time anyone has posted georgey/n that is NOT a gossip account ,, this is a huge day for annoying ppl (me)
georgerussell63: it was so good to see you both!
lilymhe: likewise! y/n is so sweet. you should keep her
georgerussell63: trust me, i plan on it
user4: thanks for feeding us georgey/n crumbs
user5: lily imma need you to spill the beans! i won’t tell a soul i promise
user5: ok i lied i definitely will tell people
georgerussell63 has added to their story
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user8: she’s hot i see why you’ve been gatekeeping
user9: the hard launch we’ve all been waiting for
yourbff: ok this is so cute 🥹
georgerussell63: she is the cutest
landonorris: ohhhh she made the non private story i see things are getting serious
georgerussell63: perhaps 👀
landonorris: you better bring her by mclaren in zandvoort i wanna meet her
georgerussell63: only if you promise to be normal mate
landonorris: when am i not?
georgerussell63: 🙄
user11: george russell when i catch you
user12: quick drop her @
user14: wow george i thought we had something special!
georgerussell63 has made a post
liked by yourbff, mercedesamgf1, alex_albon, f1gossip, landonorris, lewishamilton, and 567,347 others
georgerussell63: if only summer break lasted forever. off to the races we go! see you all in Zandvoort 💪🏻
view all 634 comments
user12: SHES MADE IT TO AN INSTA POST
user8: still no tags tho she must really not be on socials
user9: and honestly,, good for her
user12: i wonder what it’s like to not be chronically online
user13: omg y/n!!!!!
mercedesamgf1: looking forward to seeing you back out on the track!
georgerussell63: can’t wait 😍
user33: summer break george you will always be famous
lilymhe: omg look it’s my new best friend
georgerussell63: wow i’m flattered
lilymhe: NOT talking about you
user45: he’s made it insta post official
user56: oh to be on a boat with the george russell
lewishamilton: ready for a strong second half of the season!
georgerussell63: 💪🏻
user27: y/n is the blueprint fr
F1Gossip has made a post
liked user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, user6 and 17,637 others
f1gossip: y/n attended her first grand prix! here are some photos of her from the weekend and an anonymous update from a fan who was at the gp: “y/n was one of the sweetest wags i’ve ever met. she was very shy and unsure of the all the attention but throughout all of the interactions with fans she was super kind and attentive in ways she definitely didn’t have to be. a few of us asked her some questions and this is what we got: she’s from [insert home country] which you can tell immediately by her accent, she doesn’t have any social media and her and george met while she was on vacation in barcelona ahead of the gp in spain.”
view all 324 comments
user22: oh my god shes so pretty wtf
user65: i’m so jealous of her,, she literally cracked the code
user99: i met her in zandvoort! she was so shy but literally so kind it was ridiculous. she told me she liked my george friendship bracelet so i gave it to her and you can see it in the first pic. she then proceeded to give me a bracelet she made 😭
user89: omg obsessed with her already
user77: wait this is so sweet?
user75: god i see what you have done for others
user47: brb booking tickets to monza and gonna walk around looking confused till i find myself a hot f1 boyfriend
user66: genuinely begging someone to get the story of how they met
georgerussell63: we were at a cafe in barcelona, i was in a rush and talking on the phone while grabbing a cup of tea (mistake) and i turned too quickly on my way out and ran directly into y/n making a complete and utter mess. she apologized to me for like 2 minutes straight even though i was the one who messed up and ruined her dress so i told her id buy her a new one after i realized i was talking to the prettiest girl i’d ever seen and the rest was history
user66: GEORORGE WHAT ARE YOU SOING HERE
user57: ohhhhhhh my god this is so cute
yourbff: can confirm it was really cute 🥹
user34: the meet cute to end all meet cutes wtf
user23: i also met her at zandvoort and i asked her how it felt to be living every tumblr blogs dream life and she laughed and said she knows she’s super lucky and won the lottery with meeting george 😫
user43: ok we stan tf out of her
user96: mother behavior
yourbff has made a post
liked user1, user2, user3, user4, yourbff, user5, georgerussell63, user6 and 8,657 others
yourbff: now that my bestie is a niche internet micro celebrity, here’s some pics from the infamous barcelona trip (don’t worry, she as approved the post and says hi to you all)
view all 297 comments
user1: two pretty best friends
user2: now we’re talkin , this is the sorta content we needed
user3: oh my god!!! it’s y/n!!!!! hi y/n 👋🏻
user6: quick someone convince her to make an account
yourbff: i’m working on it 😫
georgerussell63: i 🤍 barcelona too
yourbff: aww george 🥹 -y/n
user89: HELP SHES LIKE TOTO YSING SOMEONE ELSES WCCOUNT
user14: i’m obsessed with this
user39: hi y/n!! welcome to the wonderful world of being a mercedes fan 🫣
user40: everyone say thank you yourbff for the y/n post!
user98: thank you 🤭
user27: thank you mother
user76: making sure we are fed fr
user45: 📝go to barcelona to find hot bf
ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ
a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated! still slowly working through requests
ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
#f1 fandom#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#gr63#gr63 x reader#gr63 x you#george russell social media au#george russell smau#george russell fluff#george russell x reader#george russell imagine#george russell#george russell x you#george russell x y/n#gr63 smau#gr63 social media au
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🧡❤️Dating Your Enemy's Sibling
*part of the reverse trope series*
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!Reader
Genre: Fluff/Humor/SMAU
Summary: How to get under your enemy/rival's skin? Charles answer was to start dating his younger sister. But now, he's glad he found love along the way. He only had to tell Max about the relationship when you won a race. That's won't be any time soon though . . . right?
*in honor of Lando's first win - here's this next installment of Reverse Tropes! I know that Max and Charles really aren't enemies. Maybe I should have done like a Pierre and Esteban thing, but I don't write for them. So here we go and please enjoy!*
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
Charles Leclerc and Max Verstappen.
Predestined rivals, written in the stars, invisible string, yada-yada-yada.
Putting it simply, Charles had an apt for pissing Max off and vice-versa. The world thought they would kill each other in karting, especially after the 2012 incident. The population sighed in relief when Max was taken from F3 and put in a Formula 1 car, while Charles took a bit longer.
And then Charles made it to Formula 1 in 2018. However, he was put in a HAAS, a car that was not really made to play with the other cars in the front of the pack. The earth was saved yet another year.
Well, until 2019 when Charles suddenly became the “It Boy” for the Prancing Horse. Meaning, that he could finally go back to terrorizing the grid and Max. But with terrorizing the grid came loads of trouble and hatred.
And more pissing off your rival.
Charles seethed on the podium as he listened to the Dutch national anthem and watched Max point to the stupid “H” on his race suit. He held in a scoff. At least the Ferrari logo was much better looking than that.
It wasn’t fair. He had the racing line and Max pushed him off. If his mind wandered, it would go back to a certain kart race back in 2012 where he pulled the same move. But that didn’t count because the race has already finished. Charles would have rather been disqualified instead of having to go through the torture of being up on the podium in second.
First loser as they call it.
The Monegasque driver held no happiness in his body as Max started spraying his winner’s champagne. Charles just picked up his bottle and drank it.
Still wasn’t as sweet as victory champagne would be.
He deliberately separated himself from Max as they stood for a picture. The visible gap made it much more hilarious for everyone around them.
When the festivities finished, he hightailed it out of there, just wanting to avoid the Dutchman presence. Charles sighed loudly as he walked back to the garage, definitely not in the mood to talk to anyone.
“Charlie!
The Monegasque stopped in his tracks, annoyance almost wracking his entire being. Can people just let him wallow in defeat? He straightened his shoulders and turned around, PR smile plastered on his face. However, the very fake smile turned into a real one when he noticed that you were almost jogging to catch up with him.
Y/n Verstappen.
You had always been a part of his childhood. Where Max was, you were one step behind him, following him in your small racing overalls. He remembered how little you always seemed compared to your brother. But size didn’t matter on the karting course.
Most of the time, the two boys found themselves trying to shake you off and others were behind your kart, picking up the dirt that you sent their way. And that’s why Charles put your name down as recommendations for his Prema seat after he won the championship in 2017. Because of him, you were able to graduate to Formula 2 and were on the track to make a debut in Formula 1 in the coming years.
“Hey Y/n,” Charles said softly, still not in the mood to really talk to anyone. But for you, he’d always make an exception. And he was supposed to fly back with you and Max, something he was still dreading.
You look at the Monegasque with sympathy. Charles wasn’t able to find any type of pity in your blue eyes (that matched Max’s).
Your brows furrowed as to talked to him. “What Max did wasn’t the right way to race. But Formula 1 is getting more and more competitive.”
The man, er boy, wanted to huff. He did not need this conversation from you. He almost turned around, but the next few sentences stopped him from making any motions.
“Charlie, you’ve always found ways to beat him. If he wants to play like this, then you just have to give him a taste of his medicine, get under his skin. Do what you always do and somehow get around him.”
He cocked his head, before his eyes lit up.
Get under his skin.
You watched as Charles’s eyes filled up with some light, making the green in them really shine. You could almost see ideas concocting in his head.
Charles went to say something, but was interrupted by his team principle. He swerved to respond before he turned back to you. There was a glint in his eyes that you really couldn’t put a finger on.
His took a deep breath before asking, “Do you want to maybe get dinner with me?”
Your eyes widened. Sure, the Monegasque was very attractive, but those were not the words that you were expecting to come out of his mouth.
Oh.
Now you got it.
Your facial expressions melted a bit, eyes pointed toward the ground as you kicked at it. Your arms crossed as you huffed.
“Using me for gain over my brother wasn’t what I was meaning Charles. I was thinking more like unfollow him on social media while we’re on the plane or something.”
The harsh “Ch” that began his name had him wincing. Like your brother, you had a small lisp which normally softened the two consonants to the point where his name sounded like it was supposed to be. And what was “Charles?” You rarely ever called him that, choosing to pick the more boyish nickname.
Although, your idea about Instagram wasn’t a bad one.
Charles looked a bit guilty as he scratched the back of his head. He honestly was endeared by you and your determination to never give up. He found you, well, cute. You were still 19, younger than him by a bit more than three years.
But if you were cute back in 2012 hanging on to Max’s wet overalls after the puddle, and you were cute now trying to console him instead of celebrating your brother’s victory, you would still be cute in the following years.
He sighed, knowing that he had to leave soon or he was going to get an earful from Sebastian for being late to yet another meeting. The Ferrari driver stepped forward a bit, getting closer to you. He looked down at his helmet before looking back to your eyes.
“When I win and when I beat your brother, then can I take you out to dinner?”
You mulled over the question in your head.
If he beat Max before you went out with him, then that meant that he was actually genuine and wasn’t using it to his gain. You also smirked, knowing that indeed it would piss Max off whenever he found out. Your position as an annoying younger sister would still be intact and possibly stronger.
You held out your hand, which Charles took in an instant.
“Deal Leclerc.”
“Deal Verstappen.”
When Charles took the top step in Spa, pride filled his chest when he noticed Max’s glare at him. He had beaten the Dutchman at his home race. Albeit, it was a DNF for Max, but a win either way. He swayed back and forth as his national anthem played and then sang quietly along with the Italian anthem. Deep in his heart, he knew the true weight of the win.
For Anthoine.
He knew somewhere he made his French friend proud. Just like Jules. And Just like Papa.
Charles watched down below as you looked like you could hardly keep a smirk off your face. And it was bad too as you stood next to Max, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there below Charles.
The Monegasque raised his eyebrows when you locked eyes. You just hoped that Max wouldn’t catch on that he was staring right at you. Thankfully, you were right next to a Ferrari manager, so Max could guess that Charles was looking at him.
When the winner finally got ready, you were waiting outside his garage.
“Hi,” you whispered, putting your phone away. Charles didn’t verbally respond, but he wrapped his arms around you. You melted in his arms, still smelling a bit of the champagne in his hair.
He looked down at you.
“Are you ready for dinner?”
Your eyes held a playful glint. “I hope you chose a good restaurant Leclerc.”
He scoffed, keeping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you turned to leave. “Only the best Verstappen.”
The dinner went really well, but you weren’t expecting it to be a continual thing.
And then Charles won in Monza the next week, and he once again asked you to dinner. And once again, the Monegasque set expectations higher than you every imagined. You were saddened when Charles wasn’t able to win any more races while your brother seemed to get better and better each race.
You could only giggle while you watched them still avoid each other in Singapore.
But, the dinners turned into texting, and texting turned to other dates, and dates turned into dating, and dating turned into a relationship, and the relationship turned into an almost five year commitment that you or Charles weren’t planning to end soon.
The relationship saw your brother become a world champion in 2021, Charles becoming a world champion in 2022, and you joining the grid as a rookie for McLaren after a disastrous attempt for an Alpine seat.
Charles had been furious and Max had almost found out about the relationship. The two of you were still scared that Max might hold some coldness for the past. But when he called Charles “Charlie,” the special nickname that you had for him, you thought that it might be a good idea to tell him.
“But mon ange, he will run me off the track if he finds out,” Charles whined into your stomach as you played with his hair before the Miami Grand Prix.
You rolled your eyes and tugged at the strands. “No he won’t. You have to worry about your teammate doing that to you instead.”
Another whine left Charles making you giggle.
“At least you’re starting on the front row. I have to start P5! Oscar has been making fun of me all weekend.”
The Aussie had been such a God send for you during your rookie season. The elder by a few months had taken you under his wing. The two of you had been so close to a win last year, and with the upgrades this weekend, you were sure that you or him would start on the front row.
And then you had to be hit during the sprint, which didn’t help the mechanics in the hours before the race quali. That in turn made your car feel weird and P5 was the best you could do. Maybe Charles was secretly transferring his unluckiness into you.
The Monegasque turned his head to look you in the eyes. You smiled as you leaned down to kiss the top of his head.
“We’ll tell him when I win a race. How about that?”
Charles knew that you were just unlucky as he was when it came to winning a race. Last year, you had been close in Spa, but a rouge rainstorm saw you spinning out on the second to last lap. Austin you had pole, but Max fought you on into turn one, making you go wide. You never saw your brother after the first lap as you fell down the grid. Charles held you each night as you cried.
The red-clad-driver sat up and held your head in his hands. “You’ll win soon enough. Maybe not this weekend because I don’t have any time to prepare.”
You laughed and just brought him in to a kiss. There was literally no way you could win this weekend. Beating Max Verstappen with pole from P5 on a track that he had a 100% win rate at?
Impossible.
Charles thought he was going to cry as he crossed the line in P3. From you winning or having to tell your bother that he defiled his baby sister, he didn’t know.
What he did know was that he was going to get out of his car and congratulate you immediately. What were the odds that you won on the anniversary of the stupid inchident, the first time that Charles had ever seen you with Max.
(And yes, he did remember the anniversary but didn’t want to bring it up.)
You, however, were frozen in your car. You took some deep breaths as you took the steering wheel off, stood up a bit, bent to put it back on, and straightened, holding your pointer finger up. Your fists clenched as you raised them, automatically hearing the crowds roar when you waved.
A tug on your sleeve brought you down into Max’s arms. You were a bit disappointed that it wasn’t Charles, but that would be too obvious.
“YOU DID IT!” Max yelled in your ear, well, your helmet as you hadn’t taken the neon thing off yet.
You really didn’t want people to see the tear stains on your face. But right now, you’d just stay in the protection of your brother’s arms. When he let go of you, he lifted your visor, twin eyes meeting yours.
“You did such an amaz-”
“I’m dating Charles.”
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
You took the moment of a frozen Max to turn to your team. You looked over your shoulder to see that the Dutchman was still stuck in his place as you got farther and farther away. You grimaced, knowing what was to come if Max and Charles met at any time when you weren’t there.
An arm around your shoulders brought you out of your head. The light blue caught your eyes, signaling that it was Charles. He patted your shoulders, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible. You did feel a bit of pressure move your helmet, so he must have quickly smushed his face into the black swirls. A helmet kiss if you would guess.
You wanted to turn around to warn him of the imminent danger that was waiting for him in the form of Max Verstappen, but you were led away before you could.
Your fears immediately went away though when your eyes finally landed on your team. Helmet thrown to the ground, you made the decision to throw yourself at them as well. Your laughs could be heard as your mechanics lifted you higher as everyone seemed to want to congratulate you for their first win since Monza 2021, which you weren’t even on the team then.
When Charles stepped into the cooldown room, he could feel the awkwardness. It also didn’t help that Max was glaring at him from the corner. Charles was a bit worried. He thought that Max was fine with him now after they had both sort of mended their weird friendship during 2023.
He turned to you as you walked in, all sweaty.
Charles still thought you looked very pretty.
“Eyes off Leclerc.”
Charles froze in his place and looked between the siblings. He looked at you, then Max, then you, and then Max again. You winced, not looking him in the eyes. Realization flooded his body and he thought for a moment he was going to pass out.
“Mon Dieu.”
“We will be talking after this,” Max pointed, drinking from his water bottle, not taking his eyes off Charles.
When you were called to the little Jeeps, you quickly got into the bright pink Barbie-esque looking one, still buzzing from your win. Even if the two men behind you had put a damper on it.
Charles’s eyes only fixed on one of the cars, not even seeing the third one behind the second. He climbed right in, eyes closed as he sat down. However, his eyes shot open when the car tilted and a thigh was touching his. He gulped rather loudly, refusing to look to his right.
This was Vegas all over again.
Max kept his voice low. “When did it start?”
“2019. After Austria.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to get to know her more.”
“What was the reason Charles?”
The Monegasque sighed as he ran his hand over his face. “I was angry at you and wanted to get back at you somehow.”
He knew he was about to be punched on live television, but he continued hoping for redemption.
“But, I knew that was wrong. We didn’t even go out until Spa. And then again in Monza. And then it just happened.”
He turned to look directly at Max, knowing that he only had a few more moments before they had to go out onto the podium.
“Max I love your sister. I have the ring and everything. We’ve been happy for 5 years and have made it work. Please, she’s really all the good I have left. I would throw everything away for her. And-”
Max’s laughs stopped him from continuing. The Dutchman slapped a hand on Charles’s thigh, making him wince a bit.
The Red Bull driver’s eyes were crinkled with a smile as they pulled up to the parking spot.
“Just keep her happy, or I will run you off the track.”
“Y/n! I told you he’d threaten me!”
“Max!”
“Oh come on I did not!”
y/nverstappen4 has posted
y/nverstappen4 WE DID IT! P1 BABAYYYYYYY 🏆
nothing beats a podium with me on the top step surrounded by my boys 💙🧡❤️
liked by mclaren, team_quadrant, charles_leclerc, and 2,903,940 others
queeny/n LETS ACTUALLY GOOOOOOOOO
mclaren that's our girl 🧡 well deserved
lecstappenshipper this is basically a hard launch
y/nhaswins such a beautiful race y/n!!!!
charles_leclerc so so proud of you mon ange 🧡❤️
*liked by y/nverstappen4*
charles_leclerc celebrations tonight? 😈
y/nverstappen4 but of course
maxverstappen1 I know where you sleep leclerc 🙂
y/nverstappen4 DRINKS ON MAX TONIGHT
oscarpiastri YEAAHHHHHHH 🍾
maxverstappen1 what?
charles_leclerc thank you max ☺️
maxverstappen1 I NEVER AGREED TO THIS
oscarpiastri mega job mate 👊
y/nverstappen4 ossieeeeeee 👊 don't worry, you'll be up there soon! just gotta wrap your car in bubble wrap to protect it from evil ferrari 😠😤
charles_leclerc ☹️
y/nverstappen4 NOT YOU CHARLIE - THE OTHER ONE (LEWIS HURRY UP)
lewishamilton you don't think I'm trying 🤨
mcy/n she's so funny what the heck?? 😂
chefy/n we said - LET HER COOK
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desecration. (s.j)
the one where no gods exist when you’re alone with jake sim.
minors dni !! | if you read it, reblog it.
WORDCOUNT ― 6.4k
PAIRING ― jake sim x afab reader
GENRE ― top/dom jake sim, characters are in their twenties, sub/bratty reader, religious kink/fetish
WARNINGS― mild dub con, desecration of holy a relic, inaccurate descriptions of whatever religion this is– im not doing research for a 5k fic that’s mostly smut, sorry.
NOTE― if you’ve read this before, it’s because I wrote it for mark lee over on my other blog [ncteez]. we wanted to make it jake, and by we i mean me. i wanted to read this as jake. sorry to religious ppl, don’t read this if you don’t wanna be railed by a hot guy wielding a cross.
smut tags under cut::
smut tags― DUB CON. use of the words: whore, slut, for the record, the cross is not raw wood and has a smooth finish, reader is first attempting to seduce the priest through confession lmao, she’s also just a massive whore just like me :), jake is the priest’s son, jerking off, penetration using a wooden cross, unprotected sex, spitting, choking on and/or sucking off a cross, degradation, and name-calling, he’s a godfearing man but also he likes sexual perversions, humiliation, explicitly getting fucked in a church, kind of fingering?
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Jake wonders why you’re always making confessions, time and time again, once a week, every single week….eagerly. Like you’re excited for your sin or something.
Huh.
Then again, once a week his father is expected to listen to confessions from the other churchgoers, even Jake himself is expected to confess. Often he will make up sins that he has committed just to seem as though he has been learning from some sort of mistake. Never would Jake actually tell his father through a confession booth what he has done or is willing to do. He’s an adult, he can confess whatever he wants.
You, on the other hand, you’re working his father to the bone in terms of forgiveness.
Jake’s interest piques at the very idea of a young woman, around his age, wanting to confess so much. Did you hurt someone? Does you hurt yourself? Did you kill someone? Or maybe you’re just caught up in a situation that makes you commit atrocities? He can’t even imagine what one person could be doing to elicit such an eager need of forgiveness so consistently.
Always the first in the box, always with those inappropriate outfits too.
Jake makes his way to the back of the church to complete his duties and, of course, he isn’t surprised to see you enter the confession booth. After all, it is the start of a new week.
Hushed whispers were echoing through the large space and only now does he realize that you almost always confess when the church is nearly empty. You must not be unaware of his presence at all, unaware that he is the son of the priest that you spill your sins to, and unaware that he can absolutely hear you when he walks closer.
He isn’t entirely sure why he is listening. The walls of this church echo any and every sound, and to be fair, the only reason his interest is piqued is because his father was silent from the moment you had entered the booth. All he heard was you. You didn’t seem to start the confession off in a proper manner either, so yeah, maybe it caught him off guard too.
His ears make attempts to adjust to the words coming from the booth, but your voice is coming out in a tone that he has never used himself when seeking salvation. Minutes pass and he still hasn’t heard his father speak a word back to you, not to encourage you, not to stop you. It’s just you, addressing dreams, visions, wants, and needs.
Certainly not confession. In fact, you’re actively sinning, attempting to seduce.
“I woke up shaking, Father. What should I do?”
Jake notes how quiet his father is still, despite you asking him what to do about the dream. His face sours when you continue to speak, this time in a slightly louder tone.
“I just can’t help myself sometimes, I–”
It’s not that it’s intentional, really, it isn’t. If anything at all, Jake is incredibly disgusted by your attempts to dirty talk during a confession. Disgusted that you’d do such a thing, and…maybe intrigued by what you may have said that he wasn’t quite able to catch before. He quietly moves to the other side of the booth, the side where you seem to be spouting off all sorts of things, and he raises his head to listen a bit more.
“You were big, you know? I can’t get thoughts of you out of my head. Have you ever touched a woman, Father?”
Jake leans in further, his body reacting more than his disgust. Unfortunately, his length growing in his pants ceases the moment his father cuts you off.
“Enough.” His father finally stops you from abusing the booth, from abusing him.
Not another word is spoken and Jake does his best to back away quickly and quietly as you exit the booth. Of course, he’s acting as though he is sweeping a corner when he turns to look at you. Eye contact is made and he can feel an intense rush of heat spread across his cheeks.
Ah, so you’re a whore.
His father stays inside of the booth for a long, drawn out, three or so minutes before exiting and all Jake can think about is if you walked out of the church soaked and warm between your legs. It’s not even that Jake is into sinning. He isn’t. His entire life was built around this church, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a man. He has needs just like you do, apparently.
Never would he get what he needs from a woman as dirty as yourself, though, it doesn’t stop him from thinking about it and how your voice sounds when you were actively trying to fuck his dad.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
“You’re disgusting.” Jake narrows his eyes at you when you pass by, spitting the words at you with a grimace.
“Excuse me?” You ask, stopping in your tracks and looking back at him just as harshly. You didn’t provoke him to speak to you at all, let alone fucking insult you?
“You think I can’t hear the way you speak to my dad during your little “confessions”?” He takes a step forward as he whispers at you, air quoting the word confession with a roll of his eyes.. “You really think he’s just going to take you up on the offer?”
Narrowing your own eyes, you step closer to Jake to stop anyone else from hearing his little tantrum.
“Wanna tell me why he always listens to my “confessions” then?” You question back, mimicking the air quotes and smirking as you walk away from him, not even letting him answer.
Jake watches as you leave, upset that he didn’t get a rise out of you at all and instead was offered a genuine question that sits in his mind. Why does his father allow you to make a confession after confession if all it is, is an attempt to seduce him? You’re even ashamed of it, it seems, and it pisses him off to no end.
Rushing after you, he is quick to grab at your dress and pull you back.
“Might as well just show up naked with the way you act around here,” He starts with a bite in his tone, dragging you off, down the hall and into a side room that usually remains empty.
He intends to put a stop to this because he’s heard several more of your confessions by his own will and learns that, apparently, your only sin is being a fucking slut.
“You have no place here.” He adds as he closes the door behind the two of you. Unintentionally locking you into a space that he’s directly saying you don’t belong in.
“Acting like you don’t think about fucking. Hah. We both know I’m not the only one,” You laugh, walking across the room with a shrug. It’s not the first time you’ve been reprimanded in a church, and it probably won’t be the last. “Besides, your dad probably thinks about me late at night after tucking your grown ass into bed like a child.”
Jake narrows his eyes even more at you.
“Bet that pisses you off.”
“You’re ridiculous to think he would even want someone like you.” Jake scoffs harshly at you, gut bubbling with annoyance. “To think about sex this often too? I can’t imagine anyone would want to touch such a slut.”
You watch him walk towards you, with his perfectly tucked shirt and his darkened and angry eyes. Being alone with him doesn’t help his argument though because, in all fairness, he’s just as hot, if not hotter than his father.
“What about you then?” You ask, leaning against one of the shelves in the room, running your hand up your legs, and hiking your dress up a couple of inches.
“Your dad with his lingering eyes won’t admit to having ever touched a woman. Yet here you are.” You call out the priest’s lie with a snide chuckle before continuing. Fingers massaging your own fleshy thighs, watching the way Jake struggles with his own lingering eyes. “What about you? You ever fuck anyone?”
Jake grimaces, wrinkling his nose as he watches you.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He questions, stomping over to you and pushing your dress back down below your knees.
“Oh!” You laugh, ticking your tongue at him and tilting your head. “You said a bad word. Aren’t you going to ask for forgiveness?”
He stares at you for a few seconds, being face to face with a woman that seems so desperate for any touch has his heart racing. He’s trying to call you out, not turn you on.
“Can’t you act decent? I barely know you and you’re flaunting yourself at me.” Jake bellows, stumbling back from you and examining the way your body is relaxed.
You really seem to be enjoying this.
“You’re the one who pulled me in here. Was it really to argue with me, or were you trying to get to me before Father does?”
Thinking for a moment, Jake realizes he’s the reason this is happening. He could have just let you leave like everyone else, after all, you were attempting to go home. Here he is though, and there you are.
“He would never.” Jake laughs, mocking your attempts to pretend his father would be interested in you.
“And again, what about you?” You shoot back instantaneously, watching the way his words get caught in his throat.
He’s a weak man, truly, because the very thought of what’s under your dress, the very idea that you’re so willing, fogs his brain to the point of almost malfunctioning. It would be so fucking easy if he wanted to.
No one would even know.
Before you even know it, you can feel the air in the room change as he storms closer to you and rips your dress upwards to your waist. Instantly, he’s shoving his hand straight between your legs.
A small yelp leaves your throat followed by a laugh. Perfect.
“I knew it.” You giggle, bumping your head a bit against the shelf at the force of his movement. You can feel the way his palm cups your core and presses in harshly through his silent breaths. “I fucking knew you were dirty.”
“Stop,” Jake demands, bringing his other hand to cover your mouth. “Stop talking.” He continues, already pulling his hand from your core and second-guessing himself.
“If you want it so bad, I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up.”
You nod with a smile against his palm, breathing in when he pulls it back and trusts your ability to stay quiet. He’s staring directly into your eyes as if he’s threatening you. As if he will stop if you make a single peep. A promise that he will probably get you banned from the church if anyone were to find out what’s happening in this room right now.
At his darkened gaze, you poke your tongue out, licking his palm and watching him pull back in aroused shock at how unashamed you are regarding your arousal. But, you do stay true to your work and remain quiet once his eyes trail down.
He looks at you as if you’re some sort of monstrous entity, and for him at this moment, you probably are. But even with that, you see what’s growing in his pants before he lowers himself onto the floor. Positioning his face right in front of your clothed pussy.
What a dirty, dirty boy.
Jake can see the wet stain of your panties and all he can do is roll his eyes.
“You’re insane.” He laughs, eyes darting up to your face, looking at you like he wants to shame you. “Getting so messy in such a place, all for men who don’t fucking want you?”
You nod, wiggling your hips at him in an attempt to entice his lips to attach there. But he doesn’t. He just stands right back up to his feet and takes a step backwards.
“I bet if I left you here, you’d chase after me.” He mocks. “I bet you think I’m gonna stick it in you, don’t you?”
Proudly, you smile with a nod. Of course he's going to stick it in. You can see how hard he’s gotten. Sin or not, you know when a man wants to fuck you. Jake won’t be able to resist sooner or later, son of the priest or not.
“Wow,” He laughs quietly, shaking his head at you as he reaches behind a podium and pulls out a large, lacquered wooden cross. “You really are stupid.”
Great, you think as your face falls. He’s definitely about to start preaching to you with that stupid fucking cross. Maybe he will even attempt to perform an exorcism to expel the horny demons out of you.
“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, standing yourself up straight from against the shelf and patting your dress back down into position. “Don’t start this shit.” You’re already preparing to walk out without looking twice at him, but he laughs right back at you.
“You think you know everything.” He chuckles, walking towards the door and locking it. He stands in front of it now, crossing his arms and staring at you.
“Don’t I?” You ask, eyeing the way he presents himself to you right now.
“Did I not just imply that I wouldn’t use my cock on you?” He questions, twitching in his pants at the way you stand before him, much smaller in energy now.
He can tell you’re still trying to act brave, and it delights him to see the realization spread across that pretty, silent mouth.
Oh. Oh.
“You’re going to–?” You swallow hard, realizing that of all the sins you could commit, the implication of being penetrated with a cross, solely so this man doesn’t have to fuck a whore isn’t one you ever thought of.
This room doesn’t even feel like part of a church now as he holds the cross with more reason than praying.
“Yeah,” He assures you. “I am.” Stepping forward toward you and looming down at your face. “Now get on the desk.”
You don’t know why, but your body acts on instinct for him. Immediately walking to the desk and propping yourself onto it.
“Take off your clothes.” He demands again, watching you intently as he stays in place, rubbing the long end of the cross much like he’d like to do for himself right now.
God, watching such a stubborn woman do everything he says is…well, it’s new for him and it ignites a new type of arousal within him.
And you watch him back as you begin to slip your dress from your shoulders, lifting your ass so that you can push it down and onto the floor.
“Oh, now you wanna act shy?” He mocks, walking towards you as you attempt to tug at your panties. “And keep those on. No one wants to see that.”
Goddamn, you don’t even have the decency to wear a bra to service? Lucky for him though, your breasts are enough to drive him past the point of return. There’s no thought, fear, or prayer in his head right now as you reveal yourself to him. Going as far as trying to flash your pussy?
Oh, he could laugh.
You stay quiet, doing as you’re told and watching the way he examines you. He must feel so in control right now and you’re happy to let him, but you can see him falling apart behind his eyes.
His cock is incredibly obvious beneath his nice dress pants, but you wouldn’t dare reach out to touch him, not yet at least. You’ll let him have his fun, despite the slight nervousness within you regarding that cross.
“Open your mouth.” He says, dragging the cross against your nipples and onto your chin. “Suck it.”
You almost shake your head at him. Such a hard wood sliding down your throat would surely hurt. It’ll bruise, it’ll fucking suffocate you.
Jake doesn’t seem to care about any of that though, because all he does in response to your widened and fear-stricken eyes is press the wood against your lips with a face of concentration.
You purse your lips, muffling a displeased grunt at his acts.
“You scared?” He smiles first, pulling the cross away and now tracing his fingers along your lips before prying them inside and hooking your mouth open. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t know how to suck.”
You relent this time, feeling the cold and smooth tip of the cross enter past your lips when he resumes his previous assault. It’s not that you are against doing it, you just…haven’t done it before.
You’re not exactly sure of how to respect a holy relic such as this one when you’re expected to choke on it.
“That’s it.” Jake coos, pressing the cross further into your mouth. “Open up real wide.”
You close your eyes at his voice, licking the smoothed object with an intensity you didn’t know you had. After all, it’s been so long since you’ve been intimate with a person, hence the constant wet dreams about your priest. This is somehow, incredibly hot to you. To have his son fucking your mouth, regardless of what object he’s using to do it.
Still, it does hurt. The intricate edges of the cross bruises each time it hits the clenching walls of your throat and mouth, but Jake seems to like the sound of you choking and sobbing around it. After all, he just continues to press the cross further and further in. Probably relishing in the way you try to swallow around it and relax your throat.
His eyes are so focused, seeing how much of it you can take and only imagining how good it would feel if it were his cock choking you right now. Despite your sputtering and crying eyes, you’re taking it so well.
Yeah, you’ve definitely done this before. Probably swallowed up some guy’s cum and begged for more despite still having a cock wedged in your throat. How lucky for them to have someone so desperate to be gagged.
“You’re filthy for doing this, you know that?” He laughs at your pain and how you don’t try to pull at his pushing hand, tipping the cross just a bit so that its hardened wood hits your throat in a way that hurts a bit too much.
You cough around it, only now pushing his hand back in protest. The tears are pouring from your eyes when the cross slides out of your mouth, and all you can do is blink up at him as you try to regain your breath.
Half expecting him to immediately hold your head in place just to shove the cross back in, Jake pulls back instead, tilting his head down to look at your panties.
Your legs instinctively cross to hide your arousal, but he prys your legs open regardless, forcing you to act as the whore you so wanted to be. For his father, for him, for anyone who would be willing, honestly.
You’ve gotten wetter.
“You’re so gross, I can’t believe you get off to this–” He laughs, feeling his cock begin to fucking ache. “You can take more, then.”
No, no. You don’t want to keep sucking it, but your mouth opens anyway. Too turned on by the idea of seeing Jake’s reaction to watching you be so dirty, so blasphemous.
The way he moans when you open your mouth willingly this time is…well, he looks fucking good. He sounds even better.
You take it into your mouth without so much as a second thought this time, allowing him to slide the cross back and forth against your tongue and into your throat. You willingly swallow around the harsh edges, tears falling all the while, of course.
You’re gagging so softly around it, he’s almost jealous over how you wanted his dad before you wanted him. Surely no one would do this for you, right? His father would never be with such a horny, needy, and dirty woman.
Jake though….shamefully, is very into it.
Into you, rather.
When he pulls it out this time, your saliva coats the cross in a way that nearly breaks his brain. Intensely, he stares at your lips, slack and waiting for him to continue his abuse. God, he’s so jealous. To think you would do this with someone else? With anyone? Anything?
It turns him on beyond belief, but feeling jealous of the fucking cross isn’t exactly something Jake wants to admit. His father? Sure, whatever. But a relic he’s prayed to his whole life? Growing resentful of it just because you take it down your pretty and bruised throat?
No.
Jake shifts now, unable to satiate the arousal within him without grabbing your hand and forcing you to grope his hidden cock. So hard, so fucking hard, he nearly lets out his own sob at the euphoric touch when he actually does it.
You’re a bit shocked that he’s letting you touch him, but you take the opportunity and run with it. You press your palm against him without any amount of shame, and all you can do is watch as he hangs his head, the saliva coated cross still gripped in his other hand.
“Bet you wanted to fuck my mouth.” You croak out, your voice sounding just as raw at your throat. “Bet you wanted me to take all of it and beg for your cum.”
His head shoots up in response to that as he grabs your face harshly, bucking against your hand at the same time. “Stop talking.” He seethes, releasing your face and inserting his fingers into your mouth instead. “Stick your tongue out.”
You do as he says, feeling his heavy cock twitching against your palm with each press.
Jake seems like an expert at this, you aren’t sure, but when he presses your tongue down with his fingers to open your throat up, he spits into your mouth so easily that you have no choice but to swallow it.
Well, okay. He could probably get away with doing that a few more times if he wanted to.
You moan when you swallow, lending him a dopey smile that shocks him. You weren’t supposed to like that in his eyes, but when you grab his cock in response rather than just palm at it, he can’t help but moan back at you.
His fingers continue to hold your tongue down as you jerk him off over his pants, and his hips stutter all the while until he loses all composure. Within a second, he stalks even closer, slamming both hands against the desk on either side of you and leaning forward to pin you there.
And then he grinds forward against your weak hand, pinned between him and the edge of the desk.
Yet still, he’s gripping that fucking cross as he pins you here.
“You want me to fuck you so bad, I can see it.” He croaks, not even allowing you to offer him a nod before he’s got his lips attached to yours and he’s licking into your mouth. It feels impossibly better than that cross pressing against the back of your throat but you swallow his kiss just as easily.
His hips continue to grind as he licks into your mouth like a man who doesn’t know how to kiss at all. So rough and messy with it, groaning more and more before he’s nearly a panting mess before you. He pulls back from the kiss only for a moment to stare at you, eye contact more fierce than it was before.
“I think you’re the one who wants to fuck me.” You manage to slip out before he can silence you again, and his eyes narrow instantly.
More than anything, that’s what he wants to do to you. He wants to shut you up in as many ways possible right now, and he definitely wants fucking you to be one of those ways. But he can’t, and he won't.
“Hah–you’d love that.” He laughs, reaching his empty hand between the two of you to press his pants down enough to let his cock spring free.
You can’t even get a good look at it, because he’s instantly grabbing himself and fucking his fist before looking back up at you.
“Go on, look.” He says, leaning a bit so that you can watch him jerk off in full view now. “Bet you’d beg for it if I told you to.”
“Please?” You instantly let out, eyes staring at the angry head of his cock leaking and pulsing.
“I didn’t say to actually beg–” He groans, halting his hand and instead, thrusting his hips into the tightly formed hole he’s created. “I’m not going to fuck you.” He laughs again, now pulling the cross back and into your view with a wicked smirk.
Of course. The cross. Well, at least you’re going to be fucked with something right?
You eye the piece of wood and then go back to watching him. You’re not sure what it is about this situation but it feels like your body is on fire. Maybe it’s because hell is right beneath you, just a floorboard away from what the two of you have gotten yourselves into behind this locked door.
“Oh?” He halts his hips and licks his lips. “You actually want me to fuck you with this?”
You nod frantically, spreading your legs in front of him and showing off how large the spot on your panties has grown since he last inspected it. You watch as his eyes practically burn a hole through your pussy.
Only then does he release his own cock and look back into your eyes. More seriously this time when reality and guilt clicks in his head.
“You are aware of what we are about to do, right?” His confidence falters blatantly as he glances at the cross. “Like, if you ever tell my dad about this, I will be disowned.”
“You think I’d snitch on you?” You roll your eyes, body nearly shaking to get fucked. God, why does he have to stop now?
“Well, since you’re so inclined to confess every fucking day–”
“Jake, you literally just fucked my throat with it.” You deadpan, hooking your legs around him to pull him close enough to feel his cock hit your wet panties. “You’re the dirtiest one here, I’m not going to give that up just to see you get disowned.”
He laughs at you for that. Because yeah, maybe he is. Maybe he’s the one who shouldn’t be in church, and maybe he’s the one who should have been confessing this whole time. Never in his life has he ever done this, or so much as imagined doing it, it’s so perverse. So, wrong. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what’s attractive about it.
For some reason, his cock jumps when you say you’re not giving him up because he’s dirty.
“And–” You soften your voice, trying to lure him. “You don’t have to use the cross, you know.”
“No.” He barks out, pulling his hips back and pressing the cross against you instead. “Now, keep your legs open.”
He gets right back into it without a second thought. He doesn’t care what he’s doing or what the repercussions of doing this will be. It’s not like he wasn’t going to hell before any of this, not based on the fantasies he’s had anyway.
Jake hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls them down your legs harshly, to the point that they’re stretching so far that it feels like they could cut through your skin. He backs away for a moment upon seeing you grimace at that, allowing you to slip them down your legs before positioning himself back between them.
“I’m dirty?” He says, looking at your pussy and the way it clenches around absolutely nothing. He sees the slick seeping out of you already, and it’s not only pathetic but so fucking desperate of you. “Fucking look at that.”
You smile at it, knowing that he’s degrading you but absolutely loving the view if his focused eyes are anything to go by.
Before the cross, he experimentally traces his fingers along your folds until he gets to your hole, and without hesitation, he slips one of them in. The grip of your walls alone could probably send him over the edge if he were to make a last-minute change and shove his cock into you, but he holds back. Instead, he traces the cross against you in the same way he did with his fingers, slowly inserting it alongside his digit.
Pulling back, Jake watches your face as the cross opens you up, probably dragging against your walls uncomfortably as a reminder of the ultimate sin you’re committing with him right now.
When your face doesn’t contort into that of pain, he pulls his finger out of you and places his hand back on his cock. Still staring at your face, he fucks the cross in and out of you. Relishing in the sound of how wet you are for this, and for him to give it to you.
He does this until, finally, you moan.
Upon that little whimper of a moan, Jake is sent into a different headspace. One that quickens his pace with the object inside of you, one that tightens the grip on himself.
Now, oh now, he’s playing for fun. He presses it in and then pulls it all the way out just to see your pussy beg for more. Holding back a moan over how fucking hot it is to see, he opts to coo out at you.
“Bet it would feel so good.” He breathes, trying to ignore the shiver that shoots through his body at the way you yearn for it. “Could shove my cock right in, you’d just take it, wouldn’t you?”
Before you can answer, he’s thrusting the relic right back into you. In, out, in, out. Deeper, harder, fucking faster. And he offers the same for himself, tightening his fist, nearly abusing his own cock at the sight of your swollen hole swallow up the wood. Really, he makes a point to fuck himself just to imagine it’s you that’s squeezing him.
If he thinks hard enough, it really is almost like he’s the one fucking you.
He keeps this up for a few minutes, up until your legs are shaking around him and you begin to reach out with your hands. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s incredibly fucking horny right now, he’d probably be rushing for the altar to save you from whatever demon is possessing you.
But, he knows that this is no demon, this is all his own doing. He’s loving it. Every single bit of this situation is being burned into his memory, and when your legs shake, it only urges him to fuck the object into you harder.
You whimper out strings of nonsense, almost begging for a release from this grasp he is holding over you both physically and mentally, but he doesn’t relent. Your pathetic cunt is being pounded by an object that should have you crying in fear, but instead, you’re so close to release you can only beg for more, more, fucking more.
And god, he keeps giving it to you.
In an attempt to open your eyes, you feel dizzy with lust. Your hips buck up against the object with intent, and you can’t stop watching him.
“Goddamn.” Jake stutters a sin, watching you fuck yourself against the holy relic. Thankful to rest his arm and be able to just…watch.
And oh, he’s watching and intensely imagining that it’s you on him. He can’t stop thinking about how fucking warm you must be, how tight, how sinfully delicious your pussy must be for you to be acting like this. And that thought is what forces him to lose it.
You were so focused, on the verge of your orgasm when you feel him practically tear the cross out of you, dropping it to the floor before – oh fuck.
You feel him. Something bigger, something thicker ramming into you. He’s prying you open more than he did previously, already pumping in and out at a frantic speed. Instantly, you cling onto him with a bruising grip, listening to his shameless moans as he realizes the lack of control he has over his own body or thoughts.
Jake practically falls over you in euphoria as you cling, forcing you to fall back against the desk as he relentlessly plunges his hips. His breath is heavy against your neck as he loses himself, and all you can do is thank the same god you just disrespected for this cock that’s abusing your hole in all of the right ways.
“I can’t–” He groans out against your ear, his hips not stopping their relentless assault. “You’re so fucking dirty.” He insults, pushing you up the desk with each thrust. “So good.”
You can barely make a sound from the force behind his hips, only small yelps leaving your throat each time he slams in. And fuck, you want nothing more than to rub your clit right now. You could cum all over him, you could really make him feel good.
And as if your prayers are answered, Jake apparently knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. Hm, curious. He knows how to do it fucking well too, as you feel his fingers rub against the swollen nub in the exact same way you would right now. Painful, intense.
The fact that he wants you to cum is delicious.
Your orgasm hits you almost instantly, pussy sucking in him each time he goes to thrust, and the sounds coming from your throat could be considered demonic by some, but he swallows them up with ease when he notes that you’re cumming all over him.
Jake licks into your mouth, soothing you with dirty words when he pulls back to breathe.
“You should see yourself–” He pants out, sticking his tongue out to lick against your lip. “Getting me all messy too?” He says again through a moan. “You’re beautiful.” He adds like a period at the end of a sentence.
That alone makes you feel…different. In fact, it prolongs your orgasm far past sensitivity when he continues to thrust into you. You can’t tell if he said that because he’s close, or if it’s because he meant it.
Quite frankly, you could give less of a fuck if he meant it.
Jake stutters his hips when you lift your head just slightly, gripping his hair and skewing his head to the side so that you can whisper into his ear.
“Want me to beg for your cum?” You whisper with a shaking voice. “You’d love that too, wouldn’t you? I know I would.”
His eyes squeeze shut as he aggressively turns his head and, once again, pries your mouth open with his tongue. A bruising kiss follows as he fucks his last few thrusts into you, doing just as you implied he should.
He pumps his cum into you relentlessly, thankful that it’s not all over his pants and entirely milked into that sinful cunt of yours. Thankful that you also got off around him instead of that forgotten cross on the floor.
He wants nothing more than to remind you time and time again who got to you first. It was him, not his father.
You smile at him when he pulls back out of breath, examining his pants before stuffing his sensitive cock back into them and reaching down for the cross.
“If you ever fucking tell my dad about this–” He seethes out of breath, trying to pretend that he can regain composure so soon after fucking you the way he just did. Still, he narrows his eyes at you much as he had done before.
“Go on.” You say, voice shaking as you try to grasp back onto reality from whatever world his cock had sent you into.
Jake is at a loss for words, because, what could he possibly do about it if you were to tell? He looks at you, still spread out against the desk, dress crumpled, his cum seeping out of you in a messy show of how much of an absolute whore he forced you to be.
“Just, don’t tell him.” He finally says, averting his eyes from you and looking at the cross in his hand.
“Do you feel bad already?” You ask out, finally lifting to get off of the desk.
“Don’t you?”
You shake your head, struggling to stand as the seething pain of having a wooden cross stuck into you shoots through your body. “Not really.” You try to laugh, but you wince instead.
“Yeah, I figured you’d probably be hurting after all of that.” He finally says in a somewhat apologetic tone, walking up to you with a soothing hand.
You’re a little shocked by his kindness.
“Yeah, a little.” You laugh it off though because, at the moment, it felt good. You wouldn’t have wanted it any other way despite how blasphemous the act was.
“Oh.” Jake seems sorrowful in his tone, but his gaze doesn't leave you. “I- um, I don’t know how to make it like, not hurt?” He scratches the back of his head.
In your attempt to put your dress back on, you do note that the pain inside of you isn’t unfamiliar. You’d been fucked hard before, but that was a long time ago. You missed this feeling, realizing that it was exactly what you think you needed.
“It’ll pass.” You assure him, taking a deep breath and trying to stumble your way to the door. “I guess I’ll see you later, then?”
Jake dips his head with a small nod, feeling guilty for what he’s done. Not because of the cross, not because of the sin, but because he’s unsure of how to pretend like he wouldn’t want to do it again.
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550 words / 25 / more ghost + gaz with free use medic reader
...
"Come here, medic."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Ain't a request." Ghost takes you firmly by the back of the neck before you can flee. He squeezes tight enough to make it clear he's not asking.
You feel his and Gaz’s eyes on you--on the bleeding laceration sliced through the outer cartilage of your ear and on the bruise forming on your cheekbone. You got tangled up briefly with an enemy tango and almost became a hostage. Or a statistic. But you're fine now.
"You're making a big deal over nothing,” you tell them.
Ghost pulls you forward and angles your face this way and that, trying to get a better look at you.
Gaz crosses his arms and stares you down. "Fine is when you burn yourself on a shell casing. You're not fine." He's barely holding back the edge in his voice. He can't pull rank on you--none of them can, technically--and he's supposed to be polite and respectful. But seeing that happen to you, and the adrenaline running through him, is making him thoughtless.
"He only grabbed me. Didn't hurt me."
Ghost hisses at you, his voice just as rough as the squeeze he has on the back of your neck. "What happened isn't important. What's important is that he thought he could touch you." His grip tightens. "You're in our squad. You're under our watch. No one messes with you."
Your gut twists. That's not fair--acting protective. It's part of their job to keep you safe, but they don't have to talk like this. You glance at Gaz for help, but the look on his face tells you he doesn’t disagree with Ghost. You swallow the protests on the tip of your tongue and close your eyes, silently letting them examine you.
Ghost finds another few nicks and fresh bruises. You’re a medic—you’re not as armored as they are because it’s a goddamn war crime to kill medical personnel. "Jesus,” he mutters. “Bastard snuck up on us.”
"Thank you," you say quietly.
"For what?" Ghost snaps back. As usual, he's not expecting gratitude from you. You're supposed to take the insults, the berating, the harshness. And the protection, because you belong to them. At least, that's how they see it.
Gaz speaks up. "No one treats you like that again, alright?"
"It's not like I asked him if he needed a hostage."
"Doesn't matter," Gaz retorts. "If someone puts a finger on you like that again--"
Soap ducks back into the room, his rifle’s muzzle on his shoulder.
"Take care of it?" Ghost asks.
"Aye," Soap says. "Bastard won't be layin' his hands on anyone anymore. Not enough fingers left, for starters." He turns to you with a look of sympathy, but you recognize the wild edge of adrenaline still present. "You alright, hen?"
"I'm fine." You use the opportunity to worm yourself out of Ghost's grasp. "We going?"
"Affirmative," Gaz says. “We should move.”
Ghost turns away, forcing his attention back on the mission even though he carries himself with cold anger. Soap looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on your cheekbone a little longer this time. He seems about to say something, but thinks better of it. His blue eyes soften just a bit before he turns to follow Gaz and Ghost.
...
more Gaz / more Ghost / more multi-141 and poly 141 / masterlist tag
#mine#story#cod#cod x reader#call of duty#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#cod mwii#tf 141#tf 141 x reader#poly!141#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#gaz#gaz x reader#healslut#johnny soap mactavish#john soap mactavish#soap x reader
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In the wake of what's going on in the world, I see a lot of rhetoric that basically boils down to the idea that everyone has a responsibility to watch every bad thing that's going on in the world all the time. That awareness itself is a responsibility that everyone has always.
I'm not going to say that people do or don't have a responsibility to be aware of things, but I want to talk about how to take care of yourself and others while doing so.
For some context, I spent close to a year and a half reading about every terrorist attack in the world as part of my work on the Global Terrorism Database. It was 2015/2016, so this was the height of ISIS/Daesh, it was a major time for Boko Haram, and it was when there was a lot of political violence that we weren't sure how to classify in places like Yemen, Crimea, and Libya (stuff the GTD didn't know how to classify had all of is information recorded, and then it went into purgatory until someone above my paygrade decided what to do with it). What this means is that I was spending 10-20 hours a week reading about hundreds or thousands of attacks a month and, in my case, recording infomation about the type of attack and the type of weapon. Much of my life was reading terrible things.
Limit what you do in isolation. One of the worst changes for me during that time, mental health-wise (even though it was great for my commute) was when I went from working in-person to working remotely. With other people, there are ways to diffuse the pain. A burden shared is a burden halved and all that. That may mean talking about it, or joking about it, or finding some other way to engage with it that isn't just reading about the most horrible things in the world and then stewing in your own thoughts about them.
Find something to do that's totally unrelated. I highly recommend finding something to do with your hands, if you can (knitting, Lego, cooking, whatever), but regardless of what it is, you should have some time when you entirely switch away to something different. During a fair amount of my time with the GTD, I was also doing my undergrad thesis about terrorism on TV, so a huge amount of my life was about terrorism in some way. The only other thing I watched was Great British Bake Off, and I would just rewatch the episodes, over and over.
Be compassionate about how you share information and with whom. Use trigger warnings, and consider using consistent tagging on places like Tumblr so people can blacklist it if they need to. Also consider whether it's appropriate or necessary to share photos of bodies or other results of horrible violence. What is it accomplishing, to show that? Can that goal be accomplished other ways that don't require the equivalent of jumpscares of unexpected photos of dead or brutalized people? Are you just showing it because you think that everyone should have to see it? If you are showing it, are there ways to mitigate against harm it may do?
Do what you can to avoid an echo chamber. Sometimes, when everyone around you is upset or angry about the same thing, it just amplifies itself, and you all get angrier and more upset in perpetuity without accomplishing anything.
Work towards action. Watching terrible things happen for the sake of saying that you haven't looked away isn't as meaningful as taking action in some way. Write to your Congressperson. Donate. Do whatever is appropriate for the thing you want to stop. But penance via watching terrible things happen doesn't accomplish anything.
Recognize compassion fatigue and do what you can to mitigate it. If you spend long enough doing this, you start to lose context, and you start to become less able to have compassion about things. If you're reading about attacks with dozens or hundreds of deaths regularly, five can start to not seem like that many. If you're reading only about the worst suffering in the world, "lesser" suffering of those around you can start to seem unimportant and petty. Do what you can to mitigate that.
Be kind to yourself. You do nobody any good if you burn out. Look away, if you need to. Take a break. Do things so you can enjoy life, because otherwise you are just another person suffering in the world. Other people's pain isn't a hair shirt for you to wear.
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Twisted Zoo Ending One: Queen of the Jungle
This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui .
I am no longer doing tags. Tumblr hates me and I’d rather not waste my time when there are so many! You can keep up to date on Twisted Zoo on Tumblr, Quotev, Wattpad, or AO3.
WARNINGS: yandere themes
Note: For Tumblr, the mature version of the endings (the afterendings) will begin sometime after I finish all the normal endings.
Note 2: Sorry this is short, I wasn't sure how to write this one lol.
In each hand you carried a bucket, filled to the brim with steaks. It was kind of nostalgic of your first time in the exhibit. It was hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago.
You hummed to yourself as you approached the lions’ area. You furrowed your brow- the rocks had been rearranged in nearly a complete circle, with just enough room for you to walk inside and approach the king of the jungle’s sunning rock.
“Hey, Leona!” you called out to the lion halfling lazily regarding you from his perch, “Dinner time!”
The pride’s leader leapt down from his resting spot and casually approached you, his movements lazy yet filled with grace. His eyes, intelligent and painfully sharp, never left you as you entered the circle of rocks.
The other lions were nowhere to be found. Confused, you searched for them in the shade of the rocks, but there was no one there.
As you reached the middle of the circle, something occurred to you. The usually-cackling hyenas were unusually quiet. The hairs on your arms stood on end. Something’s wrong.
You turned to face the circle’s exit and, within an instant, strong arms had wrapped around your stomach, pulling you back against a solid chest. You gasped and dropped both buckets as you struggled to break free. The grip did not budge no matter how hard you fought.
“Shhh, easy there, herbivore,” a voice murmured in your ear, low and gravely and filled with amusement.
Your heart jumped out of your chest. It was Leona who had spoken, but it wasn’t the Leona you knew. It was the Leona whose gaze had started to linger too long for your liking. The Leona who had always seemed too much like a predator than a human.
But he wasn’t alone.
Now facing the circle’s gap, you saw Ruggie, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he blocked your only exit.
“Gotcha!” Ruggie snickered, “Took you long enough.”
“What… what are you doing?!” you cried, trying to twist out of Leona’s grasp, making no progress whatsoever on escaping.
Leona’s breath was hot against your neck, “You spend too much time with those other exhibits,” he spat out the word like it was a slur, “You must pay more attention to us.”
Ruggie snickered again and leaned casually against the towering rocks, his eyes tracking every movement you made, “You ignore us. Not fair, y’know? You must remember your real favorites.”
Panic surged through you, but you forced yourself to stay calm, “This isn’t funny- let me go.”
Leona chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back, “We’re not joking, herbivore. You play with fire, you get burnt. We don’t like to share.”
“Share?” you echoed, voice shaky with fear and confusion, “What do you-”
“You’re ours,” Leona interrupted sternly, “You have always been ours.”
Ruggie pushed off the rock and sauntered over, his sharp-canined grin widening as he got closer, “You should have seen this coming. We dropped hints. You’re just too silly to notice.”
Leona’s nose brushed against your hair, inhaling deeply, “We’re tired of waiting around. You stay here now.”
You began to thrash desperately in his hold, but he held you effortlessly, like a mouse in a cat’s jaws.
“You’ll love it here!” Ruggie cooed, “No more zoo. No more stress. Just you, us, and the savannah. We will keep you cool. It’s perfect.”
The reality of the situation hit you all at once. They weren’t going to let you leave. They were deadly serious. The playful smile Ruggie wore was just a mask for the possession lurking beneath.
It was too much for you, and as hopelessness began to sink in, you began to cry, “Please just let me go, we can forget this ever happ-”
“You will not leave,” Leona growled, “You are our mate. And if anyone tries to take you away…”
You gulped at the insinuation.
Ruggie moved closer and brushed a stray tear from your cheek, “Don’t cry. We take good care of you, promise. You won’t worry ever again.”
The vast savannah, once one of your favorite parts of the zoo, now felt like a huge, hot cage.
You were no longer a researcher to them. That much was clear.
And there was no escape from the lion’s den.
#yandere#yandere x reader#twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#yandere leona#yandere ruggie
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Hello there dear! If you are still taking requests how would you feel about writing something for logan x reader x wade, where reader gets between them while they're arguing/in a fight and gets hurt by accident? And how they would react to that.
Totally fine if you don't like the idea. Thank you for giving us all these lovely works!
It’s hard to know which one of them started it. Probably Wade. It’s usually Wade, saying something stupid or offhand which irritates Logan into a physical reaction. But occasionally Logan forgets to mind his mouth, especially when he’s had a couple of drinks, and then they’re just at each other’s throats with knives and claws.
They have gotten better to be fair. Calmer. More adjusted to living in the same space, being together all the time. Plus you beg - beg - them not to fight in the apartment, there just isn’t enough room for it.
To their credit they only get into fisticuffs at Wade’s place. Your home, with your boho throws and favourite posters, has remained unscathed. It is Switzerland in this damn war of testosterone.
You’ve had Wade’s spare key forever now, he even got you a little unlicensed Deadpool charm to put on it, and you have your headphones in when you open the door. The sound of 80s rock covers up the noise of carnage inside, and that is why you’re so totally unprepared when the bottle comes flying at you.
It does not hit you to be fair. It shatters on the doorframe, showering you in glass. You gasp. From where Logan has Wade in a headlock and Wade is trying to stab his way out, your boys freeze. Clearly Wade tried to bottle him, Logan swatted it away, and the situation at hand was created. A beat passes as you try and recover from what’s happened, and you feel a small trickle of blood run down to your jaw from your cheek.
You rip the headphones from your ears, more angry than you’ve ever been. Their faces drop.
“Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me, you two?! I’ve asked you not to fight because of shit exactly like this!”
You use the plain of your hand to wipe your face and grimace when it comes back red. This seems to break the two of them out of their stupor and your boys are immediately on their feet.
“Fuck, pookie, we’re sorry—” Wade says, at the same time Logan starts, “Baby, we didn’t mean to—”
You hold up your bloodied hand in the universal sign for them to stop. They do, like a pair of trained dogs.
“Fuck this shit. I’m done,” you snarl, because if you don’t rev up the anger you know you’ll start to cry. Tears are starting to prickle in the corner of your eyes. Before either of them can say anything you’ve turned on your heel and left the building.
When you’re home, a glass of Sauvignon blanc deep and with a band aid on your cheekbone, you realise you didn’t really mean it. You’re not “done”. Done with their squabbling, maybe, and done with the situation in that moment, but not done done. You should probably call Wade up and apologise to them both, but honestly you’re still sort of angry at the whole scenario.
You shove a handful of Cheetos in your mouth and stab the play button on the remote, sinking into the sofa as the next episode of Grey’s Anatomy plays, determined to be distracted in any way possible… when there’s a knock at the door.
When you open it of course it’s them. They look like repentant schoolboys. Logan’s holding half a dozen boxes from your favourite pizza place, Wade has a bottle of wine with a ribbon tied around the neck. There’s a tag on it. It says “we’re sorry :(“ with a little doodle of them both in Wade’s hand.
You soften. How could you not?
“We fucked up, we know!” he says quickly, anticipating that you might slam the door on him. “We’re sorry. Isn’t that right, peanut?”
“Yeah,” Logan sighs, remarkably accepting of the nickname when he’s grovelling to you. You drum your fingers on the doorknob. “Sorry you’ve got a couple of knuckleheads as partners, honey.”
Knuckleheads. That about sums them up. What a cute word, though; you forget how adorable they can both be, when they’re not trying to kill each other.
“Did you get the mozzarella sticks?” you ask, nodding at the pile of food. Wade grins. He knows they’ve won.
“Two portions, honey.”
“Hmm, okay. You can come in.”
They do and you shut the door behind them. Wade wastes no time in heading to your glass cabinet and decanting a drink for each of you, Logan clearing your coffee table so he can unpack the pizza. He grabs a slice of pepperoni as you sit down between the two of them, ready to imbibe.
“We really are fucking sorry. Seriously, pookie, we won’t do it again,” Wade reiterates as he pushes a drink into your hand. You hum.
“I know. I’m fucking serious though, boys. I’m done with your squabbles. Next time you wanna go at each other, one of you leave the room and take a walk around the block to cool down. Even if you don’t want to, think of me and do it anyway. Okay?”
“Okay,” Wade agrees quickly before looking at Logan with intent. The older man sighs.
“Okay,” he agrees, hand on your knee in acceptance, “anything for you. Sorry again, bub.”
You squeak as Wade reaches over to press a kiss against the band-aid on your cheek.
“What are you doing?!”
“Making it better.” His kiss lands on your lips this time. He tastes of grease. Must have sneaked a piece of garlic bread on the way up, cheeky bastard. You feel Logan’s hands slip around your waist.
“Mmm, boys, the pizza…”
“Can be reheated. God gave us microwaves so that we could give you orgasms,” says Wade, happily, “or we can feed you mozzarella while we eat you out, your choice.”
You look at Logan for his opinion on the matter and he shrugs.
“Sounds good to me.”
You grin, and the pizza grows cold.
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#my writing#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#logan howlett imagine#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#mcu imagine#wolverine fanfiction#mcu fandom#Deadpool x reader#wade wilson x reader
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Fell First & Fell Harder Pt. 1 ‧₊˚ ⋅ Blue Lock Chars. (Request)
ଳ you fell first, but they definitely fell harder
ଳ characters; isagi yoichi, barou shoei, reo mikage, rin itoshi
ଳ tags; fluff, gn reader, no y/n
ᯓ Isagi Yoichi
"Hm? You wanna go get dinner? Of course. Let's go."
Getting your feelings reciprocated wasn't all that hard. You liked each other and it was all good then. But it was obvious that you took the relationship seriously early on. For a lack of a better term, it was quite one-sided for a while.
He'd be thinking about that fact a lot. Should he be happy? Should he be guilty? So so many thoughts racked his brain.
Eventually—after thinking about it so much—it's like his brain reprogrammed him. A switch was flipped and one day he was lovesick with you. He realized that life wouldn't be the same if you weren't there for him.
Everything you did for him—piled up—and his heart caved. Isagi thought he was the biggest fool for not taking you seriously as well when you first started off.
The whippest of whipped men—I tell ya. He'll indulge you in every little wish and desire you had. Absolute princess treatment from him. But he does unironically call you "queen."
ᯓ Barou Shoei
"What are you talking about? I've always been serious about you!"
The only reason he didn't pour in as much effort at first was because he was too focused on football and improving himself. You fully supported him and his dreams though. Instant brownie points!
He realizes how determined you are to stand behind him no matter what. Slowly, but surely, he builds up so much gratitude for your efforts that he softens over time.
He also realizes that you don't deserve to just cheer him from behind. As a matter of fact, you should be right beside him instead—celebrating his wins as if it were your own.
Barou tries to do the same and support you in the things you love. He'll even learn a thing or two about your hobbies so that you can bond over that as well. He tries so hard to make the relationship so equal and fair. His attempts give you the butterflies.
He will deny at all costs that he didn't love you as much as he did now. Barou will insist that he had loved you soooo much ever since. You knew he was sugarcoating to save your feelings, but it was endearing how he tried nonetheless.
ᯓ Reo Mikage
"New shoes? What about some jewelry? C'mon, let me spoil you a bit."
He was a bit reserved about your relationship at first. You were lovely and every positive adjective out there—but he had his reasons to be iffy. He's stinking rich and people have definitely taken advantage of that before.
However, you weren't like his previous lovers. You could care less about his wealth; you loved him simply for him. Painstaking as it was—you made sure that he'd realize that somehow.
And he does notice this. It was subtle, but he'd slowly ease up on you—becoming more open, spending more time with you, and being more affectionate overall.
You know he's wrapped around your little finger because he just introduced you to his parents. That's when you know it's getting SERIOUS.
When he does fall deeply in love with you, he does a whole 360 and starts spoiling you like crazy. He'll treat you out to 5-star restaurants, buy you designer brand clothing, and bring you to places all over the world. As much as you try to refuse and settle for something more lowkey, he will never back down.
ᯓ Rin Itoshi
"You're so annoying... yeah, yeah... I love you too."
He was hesitant at first because he has major abandonment issues (poor baby). He liked you, sure, but that was as far as he'd allow himself to fall for you. "Love" seemed too serious and dangerous for him to get into.
His doubts bled into your relationship and made it difficult. Truthfully, there were times when you questioned if it was worth it. But you persevered; you wanted to prove him wrong.
After a major fight, he was sure that you were going to leave without another thought. He anticipated this moment yet, he felt like he wasn't ready at all for your departure in his life.
Rin was about to go into an existential crisis when... you somehow came back to him. You smiled at him as if nothing had happened. You told him that you still loved him for all his faults. It felt like he was slapped across the face (in a good way).
Once you had helped him overcome his issues, he felt a bit more comfortable with the idea of "loving" you. So much so that he'd do everything in his power to keep you happy at all times. He was sure that he will never come across someone like you again in his life.
o-sachi © 2024 pls do not translate/copy/reupload my work on other platforms.
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