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#there ain’t no way this ain’t getting flagged
mrsreinhart · 6 months
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Lili Experiencing The Five Stages of Grief Through Her Own TikTok FYP
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mxtxfanatic · 6 months
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I don't want to put this in the tags, since people are just having fun, but I figure you probably won't mind hearing my anon-complaints. I'm getting super annoyed by the recent influx of Jiang Chang related SVSSS crossover posts (and fics to a lesser extent).
Seeing JC interact with the PIDW world could be incredibly interesting, but the posts I keep spotting are all about the woobiefied fanon version of JC. JC and YQY are not all that much alike (JC isn't remotely loyal to WWX), and I don't think he'd get along well with LQG. The JC and SJ dynamic actually does seem like it would be fun to read, but with how toxic they both are it would be 'fun' more in the 'watching a car crash in slow motion' sort of way, rather then anything wholesome.
Anyway, mini-rant over!
Fanon: Everyone in svsss would just love Jiang Cheng!
Canon: Shen Qingqiu would take one look at Jiang Cheng and just assume that the natural state of PIDW requires a canon fodder villain to be killed. Assuming he was some previously no-named lackey, after the second time Jiang Cheng attacks Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t try to save him, anymore. Nobody else would have even cared to try.
Anyways, I know exactly what posts you’re talking about and exactly which blog keeps making them. Unfortunately for me, tumblr is trying this new thing out called “if the blog you blocked is a jc stan, the block doesn’t count,” so fuck people “having fun” in the tags. If I can’t have fun with canon on my own dash, no one is allowed to have fun with fanon on it, either 😤
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brunhielda · 1 year
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Musical Themes and Capitalistic Hellscapes
I am walking through Six Flags. For the purpose of this story, the only important thing is I am walking through a theme/amusement park. A place of merriment. A place where aesthetics are designed to elicit cheer.
So I am walking though this theme park, and there are sections. Each section of the park has it’s own soundtrack playing from speakers. The old west section has country music, Looney Tunes section has songs song by various characters, Metropolis (where the super hero themed stuff it) plays the soundtrack from the classic Superman movies, while Gotham (only Batman themed stuff- six flags clearly has a favorite) is playing the soundtrack of the 1990s cartoon.
As a musical nerd I am actually enjoying this and getting excited about recognizing various pieces of music. It’s making my day on an otherwise hot, crowded, annoying trip.
I am in the section of the park that is like “Main St. USA” or “enjoy the 50s” or just general Americana. If you live in the US, you know what I am talking about. Arcades, old style movie theater front, “quaint” shops, ect. It is basically playing “oldies” over the sound system. I can get that at the grocery store at home. I am mostly tuning it out. But then… what comes on?
16 Tons. If you don’t know the song, you can find it below. I am singing it before I realize what I am singing, it is that much a part of American psyche. But then I freeze, mouth gaping open, and laugh. Just a startled. Guffaw of a laugh. I’m sure I startled someone walking by me.
This song is about working a job for your whole life, never to get out from debt, and how it can turn you into one tough son of a bitch. It is about people with power seeing you as property, a cog in a machine.
Hearing it in the middle of an American theme park in a section of cheesie “Americana” fun, was the same weird disorienting feeling of hearing “Fortunate Son” blasting through a patriotic movie. It absolutely fits and absolutely does not in all the best and worst ways. Themes inextricably linked yet not compatible.
Does 16 Tons fit the theme of Americana? Absolutely. Our history with hard labor turning into union fights is part of who we are. Like I said, I know this song so well I was singing before I consciously identified it.
Does 16 Tons have a fun bouncy sound that will keep people moving and doing on a day they might otherwise be tired. For sure. Perfect musically for a theme park soundtrack. That’s part of why it’s so singable. It’s one of those “horrifically dark themes put to a fun beat” songs that get sung in pubs and bus rides simply BECAUSE the tune carries you along.
Does 16 Tons work thematically with forgetting your woes to spend a bunch of money on fun without thought or care? ABSOLUTELY NOT. This is one of those songs that plays on the radio on the way to work and if you relate too hard you walk in and quit. It puts into perspective which way your work/life balance is heading. In the middle of a theme park, some catches the lyric suddenly and it’s “Oh GOD, what have I done? Have I just shoveled the debt deeper to forget about it for a weekend? How do I release myself from this never ending cycle?!”
Point is, if you are trying to paint Americana as this beautiful nostalgic, rosy thing, this is the WRONG SONG. It is far too honest. Like “Fortunate Son” being way too real to the life of military service to be used in a movie painting the life as heroic, “16 Tons” is the actual reality of the furthest hellscape of capitalism that Americana has, can, and will likely continue to fall into.
If the American theme park is this symbol of “the American way” working out like it is supposed to- work your week, have a comfortable life, take the occasional weekend or vacation to places like this and bond with the family- then 16 Tons is the absolute other end of capitalism, where people are chattel, and there is no escape, moreover it is the prevailing belief that escape is somehow “immoral.”
Yet here it was, the hellscape of capitalism, being cheerfully celebrated as part of the perfect American identity.
Laughing was really the only response I could have.
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hollandsfavbabe · 4 months
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Wet & Wild
pairing: art donaldson x reader
synopsis: in which you, a swimmer, and art, a tennis champ, change each other's lives for the better when you challenge his match-like stance on life
warnings: smut build up, porn with a plot, making out, cursing, frat party, art being stupid, happy ending dw, two parts because I cannot condense my writing for the life of me
word count: 4.0k
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“Swimmers…”
You curled your fingers around the rough end of the diving board, unconsciously holding your breath as you readied for the starting noise. The pool glinted below you, reflecting light from the glaring sun above that sparkled like the blue glitter polish on your toenails. But you ignored it, blocking out anything that wasn’t the signal as you lowered your neck.
“Take your marks…”
There it was. You tensed as the official hovered her finger over the mic button. She was about to send you off and there could be no hesitation once she did. Any second now.
“GO!”
You were already under as the crowd started cheering. Two laps,100 meters, that’s all that it took and you had already conquered a quarter of the length by the time you came up for your breakout strokes. You cut through the smooth pool surface leaving white water waves in your wake. You tried not to let your gaze stray anywhere away from the tiled black line at the bottom of the pool as you felt the competition slipping behind you.
As the wall comes into view at the other end of the 50 meter pool, you take your first breath of the race and pause your strokes for only a second to perform a nearly perfect flip turn. You only have one more length back before it’s over and you can claim the medal that is rightfully yours as you come up from your last breakout. Arms pulling and legs kicking almost frantically, you’re almost there, so close you can sense the touch pad waiting for you at the end. You zoom past the flags and…
“I can’t believe I lost by less than two tenths of a second!” you groan, taking a swig from the Heineken one of your teammates had handed you when you arrived earlier. More than 12 hours had passed since your race and yet you couldn’t stop thinking about your unexpected loss. It had plagued you still as you had made your way to the party a random fraternity had thrown, though your team considered it a celebration after the Stanford swim team took home another champion title. It was small in comparison to the larger meets you had won in the past, but it was a reason to stay out past the curfew your coach imposed on you. And any reason to stay out was good enough for you.
“You’re not actually upset about that, are you?” Chloe asked, one of your teammates who competed in the endurance free events. While you would consider yourself close to nearly every girl who swam with you, Chloe was more of an instant best friend.
You shake your head as she sips on her own beer. Unlike you, she had opted for a brand with a higher alcohol percentage as she was unafraid of hangover ridicule that inevitably awaited her at your next morning practice.
“Of course not. You know me, winning is only a plus. I just can’t believe I got so close to the record!”
It was true. You didn’t so much mind losing the first place prize to the opposing team in such an insignificant meet. What really had you grinding your teeth was the fact that you had only been a half of a second away from the official Stanford record. You weren’t sure where you lost that time in your race, whether it was one of your two breaths or if you needed to dive further out, but you were set on remedying every part of your race until the problem was solved. Your next meet was only a week away and unlike this one, it would be a much bigger deal.
“You got that girl,” Chloe assured you, patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “Half a second ain’t nothing for you.”
“I hope so. I’m not missing any more practices until I get it.”
Your conversation was disrupted as the room suddenly erupted in cheers, people gathering around the entrance as newcomers entered. You turned your head towards the noise, searching for whoever could elicit such a response.
You caught sight of him right away, a man you had never seen before though immediately prayed you’d never lose sight of. He was tall, his head covered in light blonde curls that were well trimmed to not hang over his hooded eyes. He was attractive, no doubt, but there was more to him than looks. There had to be. Anybody had to be more than attractive to get applause in a place like Stanford, especially within the frat parties.
“Who is that?” you nudged Chloe in his direction. She was normally more up to date than you on the campus celebrities as she didn’t get swallowed up by her swimming commitments as often as you. Chloe nearly choked on her drink as she saw him, turning back to you with a befuddled expression.
“You don’t know Art Donaldson? He’s like the most promising tennis student to ever play here.”
You furrowed a brow, staring at Chloe as if she had said something incredibly stupid.
“Do I look like I watch fucking tennis?” you gestures to your hoodie that clearly bore the words ‘Stanford Swimming and Diving’.
“Let me put it this way,” Chloe started, unoffended as always. “He’s already won the Junior US Open in the doubles category. He got second in the singles and at the rate he almost qualified for the real thing.”
“What’s stopping him?” You asked, looking back in the direction of the man who had now settled on the dance floor with a drink. You sensed a catch in Chloe’s explanation.
“That.”
Chloe pointed to the only television in the house that was conveniently showing a rerun of one of the man’s, Art’s, matches which from the date you could tell happened the same time as your meet. He was amazing, more skilled than any of the few players you had ever watched before, but even you, someone who knew nothing about tennis, could tell that he was playing like something was holding him back. Every ball out of his reach skirted to the fence behind him until he eventually lost. You couldn’t understand how a Junior US Open champion could miss shots that were arguably hard, but reasonable for a professional. There had to be more to it than what lay on the surface and as a swimmer you couldn’t stop the urge to dive in deeper.
“Oh no,” Chloe smirked. She knew you too well to miss when you were after something you wanted. And you weren’t sure by which mystical force you were being pulled, but you started to gravitate away from her. “You’re going to go after him, aren’t you?”
“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna do a walk around.” you promised, standing from your couch seat beside her, though you were both certain she wouldn’t see you again until practice the next day.
“Good luck.”
You were careful not to approach him directly, instead jumping into a conversation with a couple of your teammates who happened to be chatting in his vicinity. After several minutes of receiving congratulations for your attempt at the record, the group surrounding Art had finally dispersed leaving him alone with his drink on the floor. Lucky for you, by the time he was without a crowd to bypass, your group had moved on to much more nonsensical topics. It was then, by chance or fate as you believed, that he just so happened to bump into you, forcing your drink out of your hand and his attention onto you.
The glass of your Heiniken sank to the group, shattering into a million dazzling pieces of green glass, but you were able to block it out with the focus of a swimmer as you felt his stare on you.
Through the flashing lights you were able to make out the shape of his face better, mapping out sharp jawlines and chiseled cheekbones. You decided then you preferred this Art, the one who smiled at you anxiously over his moving body on the tennis channel and by the slight intrigue on his face, you could tell he felt similarly.
“I’m so sorry,” he professed, looking down at the mess of glass behind you before his blue eyes again met yours “You okay?” He had to shout over the loud music, guilt evidently rushing through him as if he had shoved you to the ground rather than accidentally causing you to drop your nearly empty bottle.
“I’m fine,” you assured him. “Art, right?”
Art nodded, leaning in closer to you so that he could hear you over the blaring club music.
“Do I know you?” he asked, in awe that you knew his name as if it wasn’t being broadcasted all over the Stanford sport program.
“Not yet,” you laughed, pointing to the screen where you had just seen him, watching as a wave of embarrassment washed over him as they replayed the portion of the match where he lost it all, unbeknownst to you. “I was watching your game. You’re really good.”
“You play?”
“Not tennis.” you gestured to the logo on your hoodie, hoping the disco lighting wasn’t enough to distort the clear waves of the swimming logo. 
“Oh wow,” he marveled. “I didn’t even know we had a swim team.”
“What can I say? My sport’s not quite as popular as yours.” you shrugged, shooting him a smile.
“We’ve really gotta get you another drink.” Art pointed out as he took a swig of his own beer.
“Sure,” you agreed. “I just have to take care of this first.”
You turned around to the glass mess that waited for you only to find that your teammates had already handled it in the time you had spent getting introduced to Art, leaving the two of you plenty of time to get acquainted, mess free. You caught sight of them across the room sitting next to Chloe, smirking at you as you looked their way. You rolled your eyes at the sight.
Art had his arm offered out to you when you turned back to him, a guarantee that the two of you wouldn’t get separated on the floor as you headed into the kitchen. It’s there that the seconds fade into elongated hours as you get to know more about each other. You told Art all about your life on the team and why swimming was your calling out of all sports while he spilled to you every tennis affiliated memory from his childhood where you learned he attended a special boarding school for the sport. You made note of his humility as he never once mentioned his success on the Junior US Open and the high level he can play.
You finish the soda Art had gotten for you as the music in the main room increases in volume, forcing you to crane your neck in order to talk in his ear, leaning in so close that you can smell his cologne. He’s not much taller than you, but it’s enough to make a difference.
“I can’t hear anything with this music,” you admitted, speaking at a timbre that’s loud enough to be audible to Art without bursting his eardrums. “Do you wanna move somewhere else?”
You knew Art was joining you when he looked at you with consideration. But it was impossible for you to know exactly what he was thinking, staying ignorant to the fact that he supposed after losing his match and an evening with Tashi due to another scheduled Patrick reappearance, what did he have left to lose? He wouldn’t normally do this, but you look like the perfect contender for a brand new game.
“Let’s go upstairs.” he nodded towards the stairs to your left, accepting your invitation. “It won’t be as loud up there.”
And so you both made your way up the frat house staircase, passing by closed door after closed door until you finally found a vacant bedroom. While you don’t know who lives there, it was tidy enough for you to neglect caring as you followed Art inside and shut the door behind you. 
“I don't think I ever caught your name, by the way.” Art stated as he took a seat on the bed in the center of the room, leaving a space for you beside him..
“Oh, I didn’t say.” you chuckled in realization as you sat beside him, your name falling from your lips as you met the lumpy mattress.
“And this is your reward party?” he wondered, a thought you can’t help smiling at as you shake your head.
“Definitely not,” you took another swig from your bottle. “I don’t think there’s any real reason behind this besides to fuel college memories. If anything, they’d be celebrating you. You’re like famous right?”
Art’s gaze moves to the shag carpet below as he shakes his head of blonde curls, disappointment shrouding his face.
“Not quite,” he disagreed, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I don’t know if you saw the whole thing, but my match today wasn’t anything to celebrate.”
“Why not?”
“Because I lost.”
He stated it like it was obvious which only confuses you as a swimmer. All the work and dedication he must put into his sport all to think there was no yield. You couldn’t imagine basing your pride off of winning and winning alone when there were so many other components to competing.
“So?”
He’s startled by your nonchalance towards losing, something so foreign to him it isn’t even a refreshing take.
“So?” he repeated. “So I failed today. I let my team down. I let Tashi down.”
Tashi. You’ve definitely heard that name before. Though you don’t know much about the inner workers of tennis, everyone and their mother in the state of California knows who Tashi Duncan is. She’s the most famous person on campus, in and out of the tennis world. You didn’t know her personally, only ever seeing her when walking between classes. You also knew she had a boyfriend who didn’t attend Stanford from seeing them eating together. There had always been something off about her and now, with Art beside you in full self-deprecation mode, you figured you were about to find out exactly what it was.
“Is that who you were looking at?” you asked, piecing together that she must’ve been in attendance at his match. He immediately tensed at the mention, surprised you caught the simple detail. “I saw during your match. You looked like you were distracted.”
“It wasn’t just her,” he shook his head. “One of my oldest friends just flew for the weekend. He was there with her.” he paused. “They both saw me fail.”
“I’m sure they were both proud of you.” you assured, but Art was quick to set you straight as his friends didn’t operate the same way yours did.
“No, you don’t get it. I’m nothing if I don’t win.”
“Well it’s okay, you can just try again next time.”
“It doesn’t work like that. That’s not what tennis is about.”
You sensed a planted ideology in his evaluation, causing you to probe further.
“Really? So tennis isn’t just hitting balls with rackets over and over?”
“It’s more than that,” he informed you, taking no offense from your lack of knowledge. “It’s a relationship. It’s about the fight between two people. The back and forth until someone comes out on top. And even then the winning, it’s not nearly as important as the match. I didn’t just lose today, I let the crowd down. And my opponent won without the intensity of a good match. All because of me.”
You quieted as he explained, placing a careful hand on his shoulder as he finished. You felt for him, absorbing his sorrows like a therapeutic sponge, but it didn’t take a tennis expert to understand that bullshit behind his dogma. It sounded more like a manipulation technique than anything, all stemming from the same source.
“Did Tashi tell you that?”
He narrowed his eyes at you, as if your statement was any more outrageous than the lies he had been fed.
“It’s the truth.” he answered.
You weren’t sure how to get across to him, if it was even possible to crash through the wall of his beliefs in the first place, but you knew you had to try. It wasn’t right for him to harbor such disappointment over a match that did nothing to disprove his skill at his sport.
“Okay,” your voice softened as you thought of a way to challenge his theories. “Let’s change the subject. How about I tell you how swimming works?”
“Isn’t it more of the same?” he sighed, still overcomplicating his loss.
“Actually it’s very different.” you corrected.
“What do you mean?” Art asked, looking at you with the utmost intrigue.
“What if I told you that even the losers in swimming end up winning?”
Incredulous of the possibility, Art waited for further explanation.
“See like tennis, we have the players and of course only one person in each race can come out on top, but it’s not about beating the other players. Once you’re out there, it’s just you and the water. That’s the only relationship. It doesn’t matter where anyone else is, beside you, behind you, that’s not what’s not important. All that matters is how well you swim and if you lost a few seconds on the time board. Everything else is lost to the waves. And if your time is the fastest well, that’s just one big fucking bonus.”
Art sat with your words, unable to reply as he processes the possibility of winning as a loser. It’s almost too hard to imagine. You leaned closer to him, breath catching as his eyes moved down to your lips and one of his hands gently gripped your thigh.
“Really?” he asked.
You nodded, your faces so close now that your nose nudged his own.
“I didn’t win today either,” you whisper to him. “But my team screamed when I touched that wall. And do you know why?”
He waited for you to explain, eyes fluttering close for only a second as you laid a palm on his shirt, feeling the hard muscle that lay beneath. Your hands trailed to his sleeves, settling his bare skin a blaze as you take in his equally sturdy biceps.
“I almost beat a school record today. First time in 30 years if I had done it.”
“There’s no records like that in tennis.” he countered, but there was uncertainty in his tone. As if he was waiting for you to further back this new perspective. As if he was really starting to believe it.
“Then maybe you should take a page out of my book. Leave tennis in the past for now and focus on what’s here, in the present…” your lips brush over his before you mutter, “... focus on me.”
You're not entirely sure who initiated it, but before either of you could get out another word, his lips were on yours. You dove head first into the kiss, his lips melting against yours as you swipe your tongue out to catch the lingering taste of cheap beer at the edge of his parted mouth. It’s all so soft, like two cracked dolls who want nothing more than to break for the other until the intensity reaches its peak and you could feel microscopic beads of sweat forming at your brow.
Art pulled you in closer, gentle hands moving to your waist as the faint vocals of California Gurls played distantly in the background. His fingers curled into your sides, worming their way under the hem of your hoodie as they gave way to underlying desire, sparking every inch of your skin that they came into contact with.
You sighed as his teeth sank into your bottom lip. Pausing the kiss, he tipped his head back to jerk ever so lightly on your lip before allowing it to snap back into place and at once you crashed back into mouth, kissing him with a fervor you don’t remember ever feeling this intensely. Every movement, every change in the pace all worsened the heat igniting within you.
You tugged on the blonde roots of his curls that rest closest to his neck and soon enough you felt Art’s needy fingers claw at the waist back of your black athletic shorts. Though you're in desperate need of relief from the growing pool of desire at your core, you knew it was time to pull back. Art didn’t let you go so easy, his lips chasing after yours once you’ve broken the kiss, but it’s no use. You knew you couldn’t do this, at least not tonight.
“What’s wrong?” Art whispered against your lips, automatically assuming that it was his own fault rather than an independent decision of your own. It was certainly too intimate for a man you’d only just met, but you have to cup his cheek to keep from breaking as his own hands part from your skin.
You told him some form of the truth, that you didn’t think the timing was right. It’s not that you didn’t want to, you were dying to sneak another taste of his lips in and give him everything he’s ever wanted right there and then. But you couldn’t. Not when you know that it’s just another match. A distraction from Tashi. Especially not when you know that it didn’t have to be.
“We can’t do this here.”
Art face fell at your words, but he’s never been one to give up so easily.
“Then let’s go back to my place.” he offered, hoping it was just the atmosphere of the party that alarmed you. He wasn’t ready for you to leave.
“No, not tonight.” you frowned apologetically. “Not while you’re playing tennis.”
He stared at you in utter confusion as you stood up from your place beside him, dusting off your clothes as if you hadn’t been enjoying him all along. He didn’t understand the reasons behind your sudden switch, but he’s willing to risk it all in the heat of the moment.
“You want me to quit.” he suggested as if it’s a solution both of you are comfortable with. You turned back to him disturbed, shaking your head wildly at the proposal.
“Of course not, Art, you know that’s not what I mean,” you began, gathering an explanation that you hope will convey your reasons without making him feel like a complete piece of shit. “I don’t know what Tashi told you, but to me it sounds like she expects a winner. She’s programmed you into believing the player doesn’t matter without a title.”
You stepped an inch in his direction, close enough that you can see even the smallest details of his face, but not enough for him to touch you again.
“…but she’s forgetting that without the player, winner or loser, there is no title. Without a foundation, there is no relationship between you and the other player. And nobody can succeed if they’re scared of failure.” you explained further. You knew your words resonated with Art as his gaze turned to the stained carpet of the bedroom, but he had to pass the ball back.
“Well, you said it yourself, you don’t know Tashi.” he fired back, and you knew it’s only the tennis talking.
“You know I’m right.”
Art was silent, only proving your point. You knew you had to leave, but you had to promise him a second meeting, for him and for yourself. You wouldn’t be blocked from a happy ending by wrong timing.
“Come to my meet next weekend,” you invited him. “It’s the biggest one of the year. You should see how other sports operate.”
“I can’t see you before then?”
You almost smiled at the confirmation that his frustration wasn’t directed towards you.
“I have practice,” you shrugged. “- and so do you. You can see me again at my meet and in the meantime, just think about what I said. And know that you’re more than a loser, Art.”
You left without another word, shutting the door while silently cursing yourself for not taking the opportunity while you had it. It was very possible that you would never see the tennis star again, that every spark you felt with him in your first hour of knowing him was entirely one sided. You prayed it wasn’t true, that he had shown some feelings in return, but only time would tell. In exactly one week, you would be certain.
part two out now!!!
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luv4berry · 1 year
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my eyes only.
earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader
SUMMARY: miles belleves that you're for him and for him only, no sharing. not even with your best friend.
GENRE: angst to fluff
WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, suggestive(?), kissing, idk if this counts as toxic miles lowkey right in his anger but at the same time is he fr, jealous miles, y/n is lowkey a walking red flag, cursing, man idk
AUTHORS NOTE: the autism is rlly autisming with this movie </3
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“baby you not stupid and i know you aren’t, why you acting like that?”
“miles, leave me alone.”
“nah, cause i already told you ion like him, why you still talking to him? you fuckin’ with him or sum?” he narrows his eyes at you, clasping his hands in between his legs while cocking his head to the side.
“im not having this conversation with you, call me when you done having your lil tantrum or whatever.” you ignore your boyfriend's scowl as you slide to the end of his bed and silently load everything into your coach tote bag, incoherently mumbling to yourself.
“the childish shit im talking about man.” he shakes his head, twin braids following suit. he gets out of his rolling chair, snagging the bag from your hands and holding it above his head where you can’t reach.
visibly annoyed, you roll your eyes at the tantrum he was throwing. before you had even dated him you laid down all possible icks, including your best friend. you told him how your relationship with said best friend was non-negotiable due to the significance he held in your life before miles. before miles, he was the one who you cried to, who you confined in about your family, your feelings, your insecurities. though after getting with miles you weren’t as close with him, he was still your best friend.
“miles give me my shit, don’t piss me off.”
“why? what you hiding? ain’t no way you not messing with him.”
in the stillness of his room, your phone rapidly vibrates inside your bag, miles interest immediately piqued when his fingers curve around the device, the name “dante <3” flashing on the screen.
he laughs to himself, but you knew better than to think it was a laugh of amusement. the manner of his laugh was deeply provoked, a telltale sign that it had an underlying meaning. he sends you a hard look, “so we adding hearts now too? bet.” he says while answering the facetime call.
“y/n?” dante calls out to you, the camera panned toward the ceiling, his ruffled locs in frame.
“nah she busy right now homeboy, what you want?”
“uh okay? can you ask her if she can retwist my hair this sunday?”
“nah.” he blatantly answers.
“huh?”
“dante hang up!” you call out from behind miles, to which he sends you another glare. before dante can respond miles hangs up, turning his whole body to face you. “so wassup?”
“miles give me my phone.”
“your phone? ma this our phone.” you roll your eyes once more and quickly snatch your phone from his grasp, shoving it into the tote bag and slipping your black crocs on. “don’t text my phone either.” you yell on your way out slamming his room door, silently praying that mama rio wasn’t home.
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it was getting more and more difficult to manage the pit that sat in your bosom from the fight you had with your boyfriend earlier. you were used to talking to him in your dimly lit room around this time, your hands playing with the loose coils at the back of his head while saying cheesy things to each other, exchanging light pecks and subtle touches.
you groan loudly, tired of sulking to yourself you decide to get up from your bed, do your makeup and take pictures. you sit at your vanity, shuffling your playlist while opening up your makeup bag.
about 20 minutes into your routine, you hear incoherent voices coming from just outside your door. you tip toe towards the door, peaking your head out to see miles, helping your mom set the dinner table while engaging in small talk. “yeah, basketball’s good.” he says, smiling at her with all 32 pearly whites.
“y/n’s upstairs, ill call you guys down when dinners ready.” she smiles, coaxing him towards your room. you quietly shut the door, scrambling towards your vanity table, acting as if you had not witnessed the scene that took place just outside your door mere seconds ago.
you hear him quietly enter and creep up behind you, the mirror capturing his movements. you line your lips, ignoring your lovers presence even when he wraps his arms around your torso and repeatedly kisses your face.
“who you looking all fine for?”
you greet him with nothing but silence, putting your manicured finger over his lips which he attempts to bite.
“oh so it’s like that?”
“yeah, it’s like that, and I didn’t invite you over. go home.” you get up from your position, walking towards the door that he left open, closing it.
“what i told you ‘bout that mouth? you got all sorts of attitude today.” he argues, trailing behind you.
you scoff while crossing your arms, turning around and mean mugging him. you watch as he takes a moment and backs up, giving you a once over. the argument that had him so worked up earlier dissipated into thin air, his focus now on the biker shorts that hugged you a little too tight, and the cropped cami that hung a little too loosely. you watch a ghost of a smile adorn his lips.
“nasty ass.” you snap him out of his thoughts.
he snorts, taking a seat on your bed and pulling you in between his legs. “you still mad at me?” he questions you, raising his brows.
“it’s not gonna magically go away miles, you didn’t even try to apologize, showing up at my house at 8:00 kissing me and shit isn’t gonna fix anything.” it was the truth, and you weren’t backing down from it. you wanted an apology, you weren’t willing to go any further with him till you got said apology, you couldn’t push this to the side.
“y/n, baby, you know i love you but im not fucking with the way you making it look like im wrong for feeling the way i feel.” miles argued.
“because you are wrong! i told you about him before we even got together, you can’t expect me to drop him in 2 seconds just because you asked, he’s my best friend!” you argue back, keeping your voice down cautiously due to your nosy family on the other side of the door.
“no ma, im your best friend, you for my eyes only.”
“if you came here to argue with me you should just go.”
“we don’t sleep mad at eachother, we fixing this right now.” he says, dragging you into a straddling position atop him, his arms momentarily wrapping around your waist. your eyes dart around your room, refusing to make eye contact in fear of folding immediately.
“i just want you to put it this way, you got this fine ass girl, right? but then she got this ugly ass—“
“miles.” you warn him.
“… she got this boy best friend that she always on the phone with, always going out with, and she always wanna see him when you’re right there. she always talking about him, texting him when with you, answering his calls.” for the first time in a while you realize how off that sounds, maybe you had been the wrong one, though your stubborn nature made it hard to admit it.
he begins to speak again, “im not asking you to cut him off, im asking you to minimize how much you talk to him—im a guy and i know how we think. you might think y’all homeboys but he plotting on you, just think of it like that baby.” he finished while rubbing the skin of your thighs in slow tender circles.
“im sorry.” you quietly murmur under your breath into his shoulder. just barely loud enough so he can hear. but no, he had to hear this, you admitting you made a mistake.
he taps your thigh, “speak up, cant hear you.”
“you heard me, don’t be annoying.” you said when you realized his true intent, embarrassed by how you had previously acted.
miles snickered to himself, “ma?”
“yeah?”
“my fault for getting loud with you earlier, i didn’t mean to do all that.” he admitted, kissing your shoulder blade.
you remove your head from the crevice between his neck and shoulder, repeatedly giving him big smooches on the lips in acceptance of his apology which he gladly returns.
the moment is ruined by knocking on the door. you scramble off his lap which ultimately ends with you landing on the floor with a thud. snickers come from your bed, a deadpan expression immediately sweeping over your features.
“hope y’all not in there being nasty.” your mother calls out, “get decent and come downstairs to eat.”
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love, berry <3
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cindol · 9 months
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SHE GOT A WHAM… GYAT DAMN !
Black fem reader
characters included: connie springer, ino takuma, satoru gojo, suguru getou, renji abarai, sukuna ryomen
synopsis— y/n’s man really love her fat ass and have different ways of showing it.
tw— written in 3rd person(y/n is referred to as she/her), suggestive, smut,Spanish spoken(linda,grasa), connie is a white Dominican, ass slapping, ass eating, anal play, true form sukuna, sukuna has two dicks,
tagging— @ykimobessed @conniesdramaqueen @simpingfor-wakasa
a/n: tumblr pls don’t flag it this time !!
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CONNIE SPRINGER
Love showing his appreciation for her ass by kissing it. When y/n and connie are just watching tv lazing around with him laying on her ass hell lazily kiss it. It makes her giggle and try to shoo him away with her hand but he just continues.”just showing appreciation for the best fucking ass I’ve ever laid my eyes on baby.”
At random when she’s kicking her feet laying on her stomach on the couch scrolling through Tiktok he grabs the opportunity to slap her ass even through your jeans making you gasp and pout at him. He just does a mischievous grin.”I’m sorry baby, I can’t keep my hands off this big grasa y’know?” He grabs at the fat of her ass for full effect too.
He even has a pet name for her ass too. Whenever he’s just kissing and squeezing her ass he’ll giggle and mumble,”love my little linda..”
NSFW
He will sloppily make out with her own ass, literally. With her laying stomach down and ass up as she hugged a pillow. Rubbing his hands like a villain he’ll give her a playful ass slap before spreading her open with his two hands, looking at her wet hole and grinning.”Bon appetite as they would say right?” That makes y/n whine as she clenched the white pillow.”stop teasing con and fuckin’ dig in already.” He gave her another smack on the ass making her moan.”don’t rush a critic baby.”
His tongue came in contact with her asshole making her whimper at his wet muscle on her hole. As he gripped her ass cheeks tonguing her out, he gets real sloppy with it. His whole mouth is practically kissing on her hole, making it sloppier as he makes audible groaning and moaning noises himself kissing it, chasing after her own high.
INO TAKUMA
He already treats y/n like a fragile glass plate, so it’s expected of him to treat her ass with care. Always letting her wear his beanie while he gives her warm ass rubs on the couch. He hated seeing those “is my ass big?!” questions on tv so he would hate hearing it from his girlfriend’s mouth. When she begs the question while looking into their shared bedroom mirror he just looks up from his phone smiling and looking her up and down saying.”looks pretty nice and fat to me, just how I like my booties!” It makes her cringe but giggle.
He loves seeing her ass in skirts most of all, whenever she would bend down to grab something she dropped, a shivering sound nearly would come out his mouth.
NSFW
He’s an ass eater and not ashamed of it, once she tells him she loves a good munch he takes any chance to take a nice bite out of her. When they’re getting nice and comfy doing Netflix and Chill that’s when he plots his plan on her. When there’s a sex scene on the screen y/n just makes a soft giggle at it.”what’s so funny baby? They’re doing what we always do all the time” he said it with a smile making her giggle turn into a full laugh.
“Well they ain’t doing it right I’ll just say, girlie doesn’t even look like she’s enjoying being ate by him.” Ino hums with his hand rubbing her ass.” You think I can do better than that sleaze on the screen maybe?” Her eyes meet him while he has that lazy look and smile on his face while she giggles saying a little,”maaaaybeeeee..”
That dragged out maybe leads to her sitting on his face on their couch. She doesn’t resist either as she lays her pantieless ass flat on his face and smiles looking down at him.”jus’ lemme know when you’re readdyyyyy!” Her last word ended up dragged out once she felt his tongue inside her ass. The way his tongue slurped at her hole and his mouth getting sloppy made whimpers and soft moans erupt from her mouth as she gripped a heart pillow from behind her for leverage against her boyfriend’s powerful tongue. He was getting her soaking wet, getting her slick from top to bottom until he abruptly stopped making her pout and get up off his face once he tapped her thigh. “thought you were gonna show me how better you are than ol’ boy on the screen..” she teased but he said nothing in response.
All he did was take off his baggy sweater and black beanie, ruffling his hair a bit and letting out a curse.”damn sweater was too stuffy, can’t eat properly. Now c’mere.” He easily grabbed her by the legs making her gasp.
SATORU GOJO
he loves a girl with a nice rack but loves the wagon his girlfriend has on her. He’s always cracking jokes about her ass or making a whistle when she tries on some new jeans that fit on her ass just right. When she looks at him for feedback he pretends like he’s thinking with a hand on his chin while licking his bottom lip.”might need to cop a feel to see if it’s snug on there baby, y’know? Never know with these online companies and pants! I would know..”
He likes to do silly things with her ass, always slapping on each ass cheek like bongos making her snort and laugh.”you’re gonna bruise my cheeks doing this satoru!” He just does that devilish laugh he always does in response.”can’t help it, it’s like your cheeks are telling a story sweetheart.”
He likes watching things bounce off her ass too, it’s like watching the laws of gravity. He’ll have her laying face down while he bounces small little tennis balls off her ass like a game.
NSFW
Fucks your ass in doggystyle, loves him some anal. His ego grows 10x more larger as he slowly puts every inch inside his poor girl just to hear her shakey moans and “oh god!” and “satoru!” While he shushes her while petting her hair. He starts off with a slow pace and goes off on her reactions to his strokes.”hitting me so good..“ he smiles at that upping his pace inside her ass.”yeah? Want something a lil more up your speed baby?” She responded with a moan and head shake.
He thrust his hips up to a higher pace than last time.”like that?” She whines nodding her head as best she can and he takes that as an obvious yes, he does this game with her until they find the best pace and that’s when he gets to work. With one hand on her shoulder he would give her fast thrusts and strokes inside her ass. Her moans would reach a higher octave.”ah.. satoru..! Wait s-slow down I might..” He just continues making out a giggle when her moans turn into a short gasp when she comes.
Gojo pulls out slowly patting his poor girlfriends head when she looks so flushed and bashful after.
SUGURU GETOU
he likes seeing her in his clothing most importantly only his long white t-shirts. He loved to come into their kitchen when she’s cooking up a nice morning meal then the wide smile that comes on her big lips when she sees him.”breakfast almost done baby!” Saying that like he didn’t just fuck her stupid last night.
He’s a calm man but it’s so hard. When she’s cooking with the girls he has to clench his fists when he sees her in some short clothing and apron. These clothing are appropriate of course but when he sees her backside and ass it’s hard to keep composure as she giggle with the girls when they look back worrying about him.”don’t worry about papa baby, let’s just make yummy cupcakes for papa!”
He a great masseuse just as much as he is a great father meaning that he loves to massage every part of y/n. When she tells him her ass has been slightly sore he secretly loved it even though his calm smile didn’t show it.”come here dear, I’ll relieve some of that tension in your soft spot.” His massages on her ass are always so nice. His hands are so clean and makes her moan at how he treats her ass fat like dough.
NSFW
In the bedroom it’s a different story. He loved to rough her ass up with her given consent. With her laying flat across his lap on her stomach he would squirt cold lube on her ass hole making her gasp out and him make a warm smile.”ah relax dear it’ll get better in a moment I promise.” Once their was a good amount of lube he started to insert his fingers, fingering her hole to good enough pace to where she got a bit soppy and wet stopping making her whine and him hush. He grabbed the anal bead toy next to him adding it in her hole inch by inch making her moan with each inch entering her asshole.
He liked to flog her ass too, he hates seeing her cry in any other setting but seeing her teary eyes and gasp each time the flog would slap against her brown ass and how she let out many “oh god!” and “suguruuuu!”
RENJI ABARAI
he of course loves a fat ass, his mother would slap him on his mouth if he didn’t. Before he even started dating y/n when Ichigo introduced him to her he knew her being around him would be a problem.
He loved having her sit on him in a less sexual way and more in a laying claim way and never questions it. He always has a careless look about too, like when she just comes to sit on his lap while he’s playing a online game match with Ichigo and the others, he liked feeling the weight of her fat ass on his lap. He encouraged her to actually sit on him herself and flaunt him off. He liked aimlessly scrolling on his Instagram stories and seeing her story of herself sitting on renji’s lap while he napped on their bed.
NSFW
Renji may be a dumbass but he liked having her needy for him also, when given the chance he takes advantage of it actually. Seeing the needy look she was trying to control around their friends made him laugh. Rukia would laugh a little looking at y/n.”looks like you may have to use the number 2 y/n.” She shares a look with Renji for a second and then looks back at rukia laughing.”nah.. just cramps, you know how us women get right?” Rukia laughs along.
What they didn’t know was the fact he had her wearing a vibrating plug at a high 4.
RYOMEN SUKUNA
Having y/n as a new girlfriend showed him a lot about the new modern world and era, like more new technology and fashion. What he did notice was how y/n had a completely different shape than the women he usually would be around in the heian era and it interested him. He would always comment on y/n’s shape with his all 6 eyes looking her bounce whenever she strutted around the house. Without fail it always makes her gasp when he lands a sharp slap on her ass.”nice shape! If you were in my era tehy would’ve loved how fattened up you are in the ass era and boiled you and chopped you up into pieces to eat.” It makes her just pout but chuckle slapping one of his arms.
It amazes him how soft her ass feels too, he’s always been so use to the skinny women with pancakes back in his era so it’s a completely no feeling with brown soft ass.
NSFW
sex with him gets trippy. He always fits both dicks in both holes. While one is in her ass the other is making her pussy cream. When she starts to squeal is when he rolls his eyes and uses one of his hands to cover her mouth.”enough of that, don’t need your neighbor coming and discovering the monster you’ve been hiding in your house do you woman?” She makes a quick head shake making him laugh.”then shut up.” And quicken his pace in both holes again.
It’s so mean how he expects her to be quiet when he’s purposely trying to making her cum on both of his dicks
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
Text
Epilogue - Sign of the Times
Just stop your crying it’s the sign of the times… Welcome to the final show, I hope you’re wearing your best clothes… 
Here it was. The last lap of the 2025 season. Sweat pooled on your forehead as you kept pushing the car to its max. A car similar was right on your tail, and you wanted to keep him that way. You could see the finish line start to get closer. With an inhale and an exhale, you crossed the line with such speed. 
“FOR THE SECOND TIME IN HISTORY, THE POINTS WERE EQUALLED BEFORE THE FINAL RACE. IN THE BEGINNING OF THIS RACE, WE THOUGHT THE CHAMPIONSHIP WAS GOING DUTCH ONCE AGAIN, BUT NOT IF Y/N L/N HAS ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT. SHE HAS FOUGHT BRILLIANTLY THIS SEASON AND CAN ONLY BE REWARDED WITH ONE THING! Y/N L/N IS CHAMPION OF THE WORLD!” 
You can’t bribe the door on your way to the sky… You look pretty good down here, you ain’t really good…
Your eyes flitted around your helmet as you finished your burnouts. Your heart was racing so quickly. Tears were pooling in your eyes. Was this it? Was what they were saying true? You wouldn’t believe it until you got out of the car. The “1” on the board in Parc Ferme seemed to stare at you as you climbed out. You looked at your team, who were all screaming and shaking the barrier. 
Like normal, you stood up on the car and raised a hand. Only this time, your pointer finger was out, as if you had counted to one and suddenly stopped. You stepped off the car and kneeled down next to a tyre. Your helmet rested for a moment against the cooling rubber. A hand lightly tugged you up and wrapped you in their arms. 
Oh yeah. 
You had beaten Max in the last two laps of the race, claiming the P1 spot at the end. The Dutchman was shaking you around, celebrating. But, he had lost. 
“KID, KID, YOU DID IT! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” 
Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him. They quickly turned into half crescents as you smiled at him, starting to jump up and down with him. You never left his arms. 
“I’M A WORLD CHAMPION. OH MY GOSH. OH MY GOSH!” 
Max let you go as you turned around to jump to the team. You jumped so far in that you took the barrier down with you. Sobs left your lips as everyone wanted to get their hands on their new champion. Hugs, helmet kissed, and pats were tenfold. 
Later that evening, your flag was draped around your shoulders as you held your head high for your national anthem. You could remember how you were on this step just one year ago, third place in the championship.  However, this year, you stood on that top step as Champion of the World.
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redbullracing for the first time ever, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World!
liked by verstappen33, arthur_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 6,294,018 others
y/n.nation OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH 😱
y/n&co LETS GO LETS GO THAT'S MY DRIVER
box_box_express YOUNGEST AND FIRST FEMALE TO WIN THE WDC
y/n.89 I still think I'm dreaming
landonorris in that case bug, I'll GLADLY take the trophy
y/n.89 NO YOU WILL NOT BACK OFF 🤺
lestappenlove I NEVER THOUGHT I'D SEE THIS DAY
If we never learn, we’ve been here before… Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
“CHARLIE!”
The Monegasque barely had any time to react as your body soon collided with his. He felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him for the second time that night. Your hands were on his shoulders, shaking him widely. It wasn’t long before Max joined you around Charles as well. Max had brought him into a bone crushing hug, while you waited to the side with Arthur, whose tears hadn’t stopped since the second to end lap. 
The fireworks in the Abu Dhabi night sky were blood red. The crowds around them mimicked their shine and color in devotion for the driver who stood in the middle of the crowd. 
When Max broke the hug, Arthur was the one to take his brother back in his arms. You and Max let the two have their moments. Among your jewelry that you were putting back on after the race was a pretty special ring. The Dutchman’s eyes widened as he saw you slip in onto your left hand’s fourth finger. You smiled up at him and winked. A groan left his lips. 
“Has Charles been teaching you how to wink? Or is that a Leclerc special that you pick up if you’re marrying one of them.” 
A giggle left your lips as Max’s whining, but it wasn’t long until he gave you a hug. His head rested on top of yours as you just stood there. 
For the 2026 season, Lewis and Charles had built a literal fighter jet. There was no way that yours and Max’s cars could ever keep up. With the new regulations, Newey just seemed a bit lost. However, he was understanding them little by little and promised a championship contending car for next year. 
But, you couldn’t even be sad about losing to Charles. And you had a feeling that Max felt the same way. The Monegasque deserved it, everything, and a little bit more. Lewis, in the bright red, stood next to him. He wore a proud smile for the teammate that he got so close to in the past two years. 
You stepped away from Max and made your way to the Briton. The man opened his arm and let you slip right in. A sigh left your lips as you watched Charles jump into the sea of red, thanking the team for finally loving him the right way. 
You sniffed, suddenly getting a bit emotional. And you knew why. 
You didn’t look up at Lewis as you spoke quietly. 
“You’re retiring right? I can feel it Lew, you don’t have to lie.” 
Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times,  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 
Lewis’s chest rose, his breath slightly hitching, letting you know that you were correct. His grip only got tighter around your shoulders. A quiet “yeah” left his lips. You knew how heartbreaking it must have been to see you win in 2025 and then Charles in 2026, never giving Lewis a chance to get his 8th.
“I’m happy though. It’s been a long time coming. Fernando retired last year and has decided to just not come back, I guess it’s finally my time then.” 
Tears started to drip out of your eyes. If anyone saw, they might have guessed that you were crying for joy about your friend’s win. But they didn’t know that you’d be crying for your friend’s loss too. 
“Don’t cry sweetie. I’ll be around.” 
“I’ll miss you Lew.” 
“I know kid. I know. But I’m here if you ever need me.” 
Fireworks went off again, igniting the sky and bleeding it red. 
y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted
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y/n.89 the Leclercs 2027 🖤🤍
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, olliebearman, and 7,295,097 others
y/n.nation WHAT IN TARNATION IS THIS??
rb4ever I THOUGHT I saw a ring on her finger during the post-race interviews!!
maxverstappen1 I will have people know that I was the first to know
charles_leclerc um, excuse me?? Arthur phoned me after 😌
landonorris who do you think took the pictures?? 🤨
olliebearman who do you think he brought to get the ring - I win
formulala_delulu a match made in the stars!!
Just stop your crying it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here  Just stop your crying, have the time of your life  Breaking through the atmosphere, and things are pretty good from here
The chilled air made goosebumps arise on your arms under your long sleeved dress. You huffed as you stood outside the area, waiting for the signal to start walking. But one person was missing. Your head violently turned left and right, mind getting worried that he was going to miss the cue. When a hand touched your arm, you knee he had finally made it. 
“Vito, you were making me sweat, and then you were going to make me cry if you missed this,” you whined out. 
The older man rolled his eyes. 
“I would never do that to you. And isn’t it bad if you cry on your wedding day?” 
A huff left your lips. You wanted to say something snarky, but soft piano music began to fill the area. You knew there was a brilliant white piano being played by a talented world champion right now, urging you to start walking. 
Your arm was wrapped around Vito’s bicep as you started walking down the white cloth that had been laid down earlier in the day. 
Arthur stood on the opposite end, a nice destination of where you’d end up. Charles smiled softly at the piano as he watched his brother’s exterior start to crumble at the sight of you in your white dress. Quite possibly, tears of his own began to fall on the baby grand. 
Christian stood near Arthur and gave the younger man a tissue. Arthur took it with no hesitation. Max stood a next to a little space where Charles would come back to stand once he was done playing. 
The Dutchman had been surprised when Arthur had asked him to be a groomsman. The two laughed when Arthur mentioned that if Max didn’t take his offer, you’d make him a bridesmaid and make him wear a dress. Max had never accepted something so quickly. Ollie stood next to Max, also crying at the sight of you. These were his best friends getting married, how was he supposed to stay calm. 
After what felt like an eternity to you and Arthur, the two of you were finally back in each other’s arms. 
You whispered a “hi” to him as he took your hands. 
Arthur just cried a bit more. 
The wedding was beautiful. The colors complimented everything so well in the Italian countryside where you and Arthur held the ceremony. Your estate would host the commencement activities. You had Arthur had talked about permanently moving in so that you two could start your new lives together. But, you’d still keep your Monaco house for visits to Max and the family. 
Speaking of, your eyes landed on Kelly in the crowd. You wanted her to be in your wedding so much, but the little baby in her arms made if just fine if she couldn’t stand with you. You remember crying when Max asked you to be the godmother of his son, Adriaan Daan Verstappen. Oh well, you’d get baby snuggles later. Max and Kelly’s wedding was planned for the 2028 summer break, hence why your wedding was in December of 2027. 
Max was back to being world champion, which was fine with you. You’d let him break his own record and then destroy it later on. 
The rest of the 2024 grid were also there, along with a lot of the past F2 boys that loved Arthur as their own. 
The vows were read and the ceremony ended shortly after. As you walked back down the aisle, finally known as Mrs. Y/n Leclerc, your eyes landed on an empty seat. A picture of Lorenzo sat there, reminding everyone about the man who loved you more than life itself. 
Last night, you had heard Arthur whispering out the window. Tears had welled when you understood his words. 
“I know that you love Y/n so much Enzo. I wish that you could have been here to see tomorrow, she looks so beautiful, even if I haven’t seen the dress. I just wanted to let you know that she’s doing ok. I am here to love her so much. I know I can never replace you, but I hope you can rest easier knowing that she finally has people who also love her so much.” 
We can meet again somewhere  Somewhere far away from here…
Arthur gave you a kiss on your cheek as he led you back down the aisle. 
“Hello wife,” he said, gathering you in his arms after you rounded the corner out of sight. 
You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Hello husband.” 
During the “after party,” you couldn’t stop giggling as you got ready to throw the bouquet. You knew what was going to happen right after, and you made sure to throw it in the direction of the certain bridesmaid. 
Charles had asked for your permission for this weeks and advance and you had happily accepted. You threw the bouquet, praying that it went in the right direction. Once you turned around, a smile grew on your lips as you saw that Alex had caught it. And right behind her was Charles on one knee. 
You couldn’t wait to gain a sister. 
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arthur_leclerc can't wait to spend forever with you 💍
liked by y/n.89, oscarpiastri, pascale_leclerc, and 7,943,857 others
y/nxarthur wow, I've legit had a front row seat to this entire relationship
maxiel_lover most of the drivers from 2024 where there 🥺
y/n.89 forever is too short
arthur_leclerc I'll love you in every universe and all of eternity
landonorris gag.
charles_leclerc get a fiancé and then we'll listen to you norizz
y/n.89 not on my wedding post please boys
landonorris yes ma'am
y/n.leclerc I will be sobbing forever
We never learn, we been here before Why are we always suck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
You walked into the garage, a smile on your face as you watched Max take pole for the last time in Formula 1. The crew around you cheered once the final times were set. On the wall next to you read the names and years of yours and Max’s championships. 
The 2025 was yours, 2026 wasn’t on there, but 2027 to 2030 was all Max. He had finally broken the 7 championship record 2 races ago, winning his beloved 8th World Championship. You would have made him battle it out till the last race, but you couldn’t have done that since the 2028 season. Liam had done a good job in your car, keeping it warm until you could return. 
Max stepped into the garage, eyes still full of life at 33 year old. He was practically a baby still if you remember how old Lewis and Fernando were when they retired. His eyes lit up as they landed on you. Before he could say anything, a screech sounded in the garage. 
“MAXIE!” 
The two-year-old in your arms wiggled until you put her down. Her little legs took her to her favorite godfather, much to Charles’ chagrin of wanting to be the favorite uncle. Except Max didn’t need to know that Ferrari was Lottie’s favorite team. The Leclerc’s love for the Italian Prancing Horse was definitely written in their genetics. 
Charlotte Pascale Maxine Leclerc was born almost one year after yours and Arthur’s wedding. The announcement raised some eyebrows and you could see some adults calculating in their heads. But they ignored everything once she was born. Brown hair and bright hazel eyes were surely going to break hearts when she was older. She was a carbon copy of Arthur. 
With you getting pregnant, you’d have to miss at least 2 years of Formula 1. You also didn’t want to miss any of her firsts so you announced a semi-permanent retirement for the 2028, 2029, and 2030 seasons. You may have cried when Max said that he was going to retire while you weren’t racing. But, you knew why he was doing it.  
Penelope was 11 and Adriaan was 3. Max didn’t want to have to miss any more of their lives that he already had. 
The Dutchman bent down to pick the toddler up. 
“Hey kid.”
You knew he wasn’t talking to Lottie. You rolled your eyes as you approached him and gave him a hug. 
“I’m not a kid anymore Max. I have a kid. So it kind of cancels everything out.” 
Max only looked down at you with a smile. 
“You’ll always be my kid, no matter what.” 
“Sure Maximillian.” 
We never learn, we been here before 
Max this time did not roll his eyes or comment how that was not his name. He’s played this game before, and he’ll finally let you have it. 
“Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay one more season?” 
He put a hand on your shoulder. 
“I’ll be close by, don’t worry. I told you that I’d be here for all of it. I’m not breaking that promise.” 
y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 Lottie insisted she watch Maxie drive the car with Adriaan 💙
liked by leclercfam, y/nsnumber1, kellypiquet, and 8,230,185 others
leclercfam STOP STOP STOP THEY'RE SO CUTIEEEE
rbxferrari I can't believe Lottie is turning 3 this year???
charles_leclerc still the favorite uncle 😚
maxverstappen1 not if Lottie has anything to say about it
charles_leclerc says the man whose son was in Ferrari merch earlier
y/n.89 max I fear Charles wins this time
charles_leclerc HA
maxverstappen1 you win ONE championship and your ego grows by 10 thousand
y/n4ever dare I say I'll miss them all like this?
Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
“MAX EMILLIAN VERSTAPPEN AND CHARLES MARC HERVE PERCEVAL LECLERC! WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU, YOU’RE BOTH DEAD!”  
Max and Charles looked over at Arthur with pleading eyes. 
“Help us.”
Your husband only looked at them with pity. 
“Shouldn’t have waited to tell her. Now she knows because of Instagram.” 
Both drivers, er well, a team principal and driver winced at the sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer. 
Charles immediately grabbed his son from Alex. 
“I have a baby Y/n! You can’t do anything.” 
Little Jules Herve Anthoine Leclerc looked up at his dad with big and round, green eyes, making cooing noises at everything, blissfully unaware that his aunt was about to try to kill his father. 
“But Max doesn’t!” 
Just stop your crying it’s a sign of the times  We gotta get away from here, we gotta get away from here 
Max slightly paled as he looked around for a child to grab, but Lottie was already in Arthur’s lap by the time you got down the stairs. He winced when you landed on the ground floor. You, Arthur, and Lottie had come to visit after Charles called that Alex had gone into labor. Your family of three hadn’t planned to stay this long, since it had been three weeks, but Lottie had insisted that she wanted to see Maxie, Pen, Adri, and Aunt Kelly. 
Your phone showed an Instagram post from Red Bull Racing. 
“Should I read this Max or do you just want to tell me?” you raised an eyebrow as you asked. Max winced again. This was the ultimate betrayal. 
Arthur, looking at Max with glee, asked you to read it. The Monegasque didn’t react when he felt the Dutchman’s glare on him. You only hummed as you began to read.
“Max Verstappen will officially return to the F1 paddock, not as a driver, but as the Team Principal of Oracle Red Bull Racing. 
“We are also delighted to announced that Charles Leclerc will be racing alongside Y/n L/n, as she returns from her retirement in the 2031 season.” 
Max tried to give you a smile. 
“Surprise?”
You turned to Charles, who tried not to jump due to Jules falling asleep in his arms. Your eyes narrowed. 
“I’m going to be champion again this year. You can eat my dust for this.” 
Laughter erupted from the small group. Lottie had no clue what was going on, but she crawled off of Arthur lap and demanded that she be held in your arms. Her head rested on your chest as you rocked lightly back and forth. You hadn’t planned to have her so early at 25, but the little girl in your arms was your pride and joy. 
She tried to give her best stink eye to her uncle and godfather. She pointed her little finger at them. 
“Maman is going to be champion!” her little voice squeaked out. 
And Lottie was right. 
Maman was going to be champion from 2031 to 2034, adding another four to her one.
Only four more to go. 
Stop your crying, baby, it’ll be alright  They told me that the end is near, we gotta get away from here 
You looked up at Arthur with a smile. The now 36-year-old stood shirtless, with a small baby on his chest. The TV in the hospital room was playing the 2035 Abu Dhabi Grand Prix. Like they had back in 2026, the red fireworks lit up the night. 
You knew what was coming after Charles won this year. The promises of retirement hung over his head as you watched another one of your friends leave the sport. 
The only ones that remained from your fateful 2024 season were Lando and Oscar (still with McLaren), Logan and Lance (racing together for Aston Martin), George (who raced with Kimi for Mercedes), and then Yuki and Pierre (who found each other again in now back to Torro Rosso). 
Daniel retired the year before Max along with Valtteri, Kevin, and Nico. 
You looked up at your husband. 
“Are you ok if it’s just him and Lottie? I’d like to continue racing until I retire and I don’t think any more kids might be possible after?” 
Arthur looked at you with a smile. 
“That is more than ok chéri. I think Lottie will just enjoy little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc’s company.” 
You peered up at him. 
“You do not have to keep saying his full name, you know that right.” 
Arthur stepped over to the bed right as Charles was getting out of his car, finally a second time world champion. He gently put Enzo into your arms and gently rubbed over his head that was covered with blond hair. The same shade of eyes looked up into yours as your son took in the sight of you. If Lottie could be Arthur’s copy, Enzo was yours. 
Arthur sighed. 
“I can call him whatever I want. It’s not fair that he was named after Ollie and not his own father.” 
“Bebe, you said you were fine with it.” 
He knew you were teasing. 
“It is all jokes ma chéri.” 
Charles voice sounded in the room through the TV speaker. Arthur turned up the volume to hear his brother.  
“I am so thankful for this opportunity for one more championship. I have loved driving for Red Bull and previously for Ferrari. But, uh, I feel as though this is my closing chapter.” 
Mark Webber was the one to be interviewing Charles. 
The Australian asked, “So is this a retirement announcement?” 
The Monegasque gave a small smile. “It would seem so. I’ve given all that I can to the sport. It is time for me to continue my life with my family.” 
Mark clapped him on the shoulder. 
“I know I can speak for the entire Formula 1 world when I say that you will be missed.” 
y/n.89 and arthur_leclerc have posted
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y/n.89 little Lorenzo Oliver Alessandro Leclerc, you're more cherished than you will ever know
liked by oliverbearman, logansargeant, y/n&fam, and 9,205,834 others
leclerc_family not all of their kids having multiple middle names💀
y/n.nation them naming little Enzo after Lorenzo - don't bother the tears 😭
landonorris so...when am I getting a kid named after me?
oscarpiastri and me?
logansargeant and me?????
olliebearman hoes mad - you're just not superior 😝
y/n.89 sorry boys, no more kids, I'll name the dog after you
iamred_iamyellow I just know that little Enzo and little Jules are going to be best of friends
We never learn, we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets We never learn we been here before  Why are we always stuck and running from the bullets?  The bullets…
You sat back on a tyre of your car, looking out at the crowds. You could finally breathe easily for maybe the first time of the 2040 season. The battle was tough. All the rookies this year gave you a run for your money. 
But you had done it. Finally. 
Nine championships to your name. One of a kind feat. Probably never to be repeated until the end of time. 
You calmly walked over to the barrier. Arthur stood with your 13 year old daughter and 4 year old son. When had they gotten so much bigger? You were scared after Enzo was born, getting back into racing so quickly, unlike you had done with Lottie. But Arthur was with you every step of the way. So were Charles and Alex, and so were Max and Kelly. 
You gathered your family into your arms and let yourself cry. Tears of sadness for the sport you loved with every fiber of your being, and tears of joy of finally accomplishing your one dream. It had taken 17 years for you to finally get what you wanted. 
We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much
At Milton Keynes, the years 2025, 2031, 2032, 2033, 2034, 2036, 2037, 2039, and then finally 2040 were hung in lights along the walls. You could have been done last year, but Lando had decided that he needed one championship in 2038. You were proud of the Papaya boy. All of his hard work finally paid off. And now he could have all the chances as he finished second this year. 
You had one request for this podium. You wanted everyone up there with you. Arthur made sure that everyone from the 2024 grid was there.
(Yes, even Esteban). 
The drivers you were close with when you were 20, watched as you were crowned World Champion for the ninth and last time ever. Max had red eyes the entire night. He made sure to splash you extra with the champagne. Your kids ran around squealing as their uncle Charles shot bits of bubbly at them. 
It felt like a dream, to be up there with all of your found family. After the first few times, you thought that celebrating a championship would get boring. But, you were wrong. Each time was even more special than the first. 
On the way back to the hotel, you looked to the back seat at your two kids. Both had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. You blamed yourself and Arthur for driving them around as babies, and now car noise was the best way to put them to sleep. 
Arthur looked over at you, smiling softly as he watched you look at your children with such love. 
You whispered, breaking the silence, “I have more than I could have ever dreamed. And it makes me think that this is a dream, that I’m going to wake back up in 2023 in my drivers room and not be able to do anything.” 
A quick pinch was given to your leg. 
“Ouch Thur!” you whined as you rubbed the sore part. 
Arthur had that teasing glint in his eyes that you missed so dearly. 
“I don’t think it’s a dream chéri. You’re more awake than ever.” 
redbullracing has posted
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redbullracing our golden girl in her golden year, for the ninth and last time, Y/n L/n is Champion of the World ⭐️
liked by maxverstappen1, logansargeant, y/n.nation, and 10,583,850 others
y/n.nation thank you Y/n for all that you have done! it's time for you to finally relax with your family!
formula1fan at first I was annoyed with the domination, but Y/n deserves it more than anyone - you will be missed champ
y/n.89 my team, I am so proud to have been your girl - let it be known I am the golden child of Red Bull
maxverstappen1 um, no, you're not the original
charles_leclerc I was the golden boy at Ferrari AND Red Bull
sebastianvettel sit down, the original golden child is here
redbullracing we love you all equally
y/n.89 ... I'm still the favorite tho
author it's the end of an era, thanks kid for everything - stay golden
Will we ever learn?  We’ve been here before It’s just what we know
At 42-years-old, you sat in a chair, looking over the estate watching Lottie and Enzo all play with Max’s family and Charles’s family. A drink was in your hand as you used the condensation to cool down from the hot Italian sun. 
Retirement from all motorsports had been your decision alone. 
Ollie and Dorian Pin had the two coveted Red Bull seats, however, Lando and Oscar were really duking it out for a world championship. You knew that the two would be fine. 
After Formula 1, you did two years of endurance racing, winning Le Mans twice and the Endurance championship once in the years of 2041 and 2042. 
In 2043, you tried out IndyCar, only wanting to win one race: The Indy500. Thankfully, you’d been able to do so in the only year you wanted to. 
Thus, becoming the second person in history to win the Triple Crown of Motorsports, and the only female. It felt nice, breaking yet another record, even if someone had done it before you. But, it didn’t feel as nice as it did right now. 
Arthur came out of the house behind you and sat on his chair that was built for him. When you had come back home, you wanted two seats in the backyard to be able to watch your children play for hours. 
Lorenzo had told you a story of your parents on year. It was about the time when they truly loved each other. They too had matching chairs outlooking their own backyard. You wished you could have such memories of you parents. But now, you rarely thought of them. 
Because in the end, you didn’t need them. 
A tear ran down your face as you continued to watch Penelope, Adriaan, Lottie, Jules, and Enzo play under the Italian sunset. 
“Why are you crying chéri?” 
Arthur’s hand had come to your face to wipe the single tear away. 
You didn’t look at him and kept watching the family that you built out of love and dreams.
“I’m happy, so happy.” 
Stop your crying, baby it’s a sign of the times…
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slut4hee · 1 month
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MY HEART, MY MIND, AND MY BODYミ★
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{Paring: Sneaky link Heeseung x Blk Fem! Reader
{Synopsis: you know you should ignore his texts, you know you shouldn’t answer when he calls but your heart, your mind, and your body tells you otherwise.
{Genre: smut, fwb relationship, Heeseung is toxic asf, reader is in love with him but he wants to keep their relationship strictly just fucking, good dick game Heeseung.🤭
{Warnings: oral (f receiving) , squirting, Heeseung is kinda a jerk to reader, reader cries, Heeseung manipulates reader by giving her some bomb ass head.
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You know you should have been blocked him, ignored his text and moved on with your life because you know you deserve better but it’s not easy when you’re dealing with someone like Lee Heeseung.
You throw your phone on your bed when you read the texts he sent you, the same exact messages he sends you every weekend that you’re starting to grow tired of.
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: You up?
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: Mind if I slide over? I’m so hard right now
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: you ignoring me or sum I can see that you were active 3 mins ago 🤨
You: What is it Hee? I’m not in the mood right now😐
Mr Big Red Flag🙄🚩: Damn baby what’s all the attitude for? I ain’t did nothing wrong to you so chill out🤷‍♂️
You: CHILL OUT? Stg get tf off my phone with that shit, you know exactly why I’m acting out this way😒
“Is he fucking for real right now” you scoff loudly as you turn your phone on dnd for the night and lock it. You get up to go take you a nice warm shower to clear your head and rinse off the shitty day you had. After showering and doing your night routine you decided to grab a snack and binge watch twilight for the 100th time. As you’re laying on your couch watching your movie you hear a knock on your door and it startles you.
“Who the fuck is knocking at my door this late” you question yourself as you hop off the couch to see who has the audacity to disturb your peace, you look out the peephole and you’re met with none other than Heeseung himself standing outside your door. You scoff in annoyance wondering why he decided to show up to your apartment without telling you.
“Y/n c’mon baby, open up the door I know you’re in there your car is parked outside” he waves at your ring camera,
“Heeseung why are you here?”Just do me a favor and go back to your place because I’m not letting you in mines” you roll your eyes walking away from the front door.
You grow frustrated when Heeseung continues to knock at your door, you hurry up and run to open the door when he starts to yell and cause commotion and out of fear of waking your neighbors and getting a noice complaint you let him in.
“Do you seriously have to make so much noise, I have neighbors Heeseung” you glare at him wanting nothing more to punch him in his face more like sit on it, you just noticed how freaking good he looks sporting just a black hoodie and gray sweats with his hood over his head with his bangs slightly visible. Butterflies erupt in your stomach and you’re starting to forget just why you’re so angry with him but that’s just how much of an effect he has on you.
“I mean if you would have just opened the damn door when I first knocked, I wouldn’t have had to yell for you to let me in” he says sarcastically looking at you with a knowing look as he steps more into your apartment making his way towards your couch where your movie is paused and your snacks left behind. Your eyes follow him as he plops down on your couch and manspreads, you can feel yourself getting wet at the sight of him and you mentally curse at yourself “you’re supposed to be mad at him Y/n” you tell yourself.
“Why are you standing all the way over there for aren’t you gonna come sit down?” He asks you as he pops some of the popcorn from your bowl in his mouth and gestures you to come to him. Subconsciously you obey him as you make your way to the couch sitting on the other side of it creating some distance between you two.
“Why didn’t you text me back baby?” He gets up and sits next to you and facing his body towards you. You roll your eyes at him as you push him back away from you trying to keep the distance between you and him but he’s not having it.
“You gonna tell me what’s got you acting all pissy?” He asks kinda coldly and clearly annoyed by your actions but who is he to feel frustrated, he’s the reason why you’re acting this way in the first place.
“Oh nothing Heeseung, maybe I’m just tired of you only hitting me up when you want to get in my panties, you never really check up on me it’s always when you’re looking to get your dick wet” you spit angrily at him folding your arms over your chest.
“I mean that’s the only reason why I should be contacting you Y/n baby come on we been through this already, no strings attached and no catching feelings strictly sex” He moves closer to you putting his hand on your thigh caressing it gently, you almost melt into his touch getting lost in the feeling of his hands on your body when you snap back into reality and swat his hand away.
“Heeseung look, I don’t know if I can keep doing this I think we should just end things and go our separate ways” You try to say sternly but instead it comes off shaky and weak. You try to fight back the tears that’s threatening to fall but it hurts so bad, it hurts so bad you fell in love with him, it hurts so bad knowing you compromised yourself for a man that doesn’t see you no more than a booty call and you feel so disgusted with yourself.
“Baby you don’t mean that, tell me you don’t mean that” He says softy while pulling you closer to him and grabbing your hand leaving soft kisses on your knuckles. You let the tears fall even more when he does this because you know deep down he’s only trying to make you feel better because he doesn’t want you to leave him.
“Mama look, I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings and I’m really trying to be better for you but you can’t just leave me like this darling, not after all we’ve been through” he tries to reassure you as he pulls you into his lap, he looks in your eyes as he draws little circles on your back trying to calm you down.
“Do you love me Heeseung and do you care for me like you say you do or is it all fun and games for you” You look at him with a stern yet saddened look and he can’t help but feel just a little ping of guilt in his chest, he doesn’t answer your question but instead pulls you in for a passionate kiss. You know you shouldn’t be kissing him right now instead you should be kicking him out of your apartment and blocking his contact ending it for good but nope you’re falling into his trap once again.
“You know how i feel about you baby girl now just let daddy take care of you okay? Let me kiss it all better” He says pulling away from the kiss and next minute you’re being lifted in his arms as he takes you to your bedroom. He lays you down on the bed softly as he lays his body on top of yours. He goes to attack your lips once again and you feel like you could just cream from the feeling of his soft pillowy lips on yours, he sucks on your bottom lip and starts to prod his tongue for permission to enter and you let him.
“Hee please” you pull away from the kiss begging him for more, you didn’t realize it had been a week since you last fucked, since you had been ignoring him and you mentally pat yourself on the back for even being able to go that long without having him inside you but now it feels as if you are gonna die if you don’t have his cock inside you right this instant.
“Please what princess, talk to daddy tell me what you want” he groans when he feels the heat radiating off your body and his cock is straining against his jeans, he’s so damn hard he’s afraid as soon as he puts it in your tight little hole he’ll explode right then and there.
“P-Please touch me daddy I want you so bad I need to feel you hee” you whine when you feel him play with the hem of your sleep shorts, he pulls the elastic band back and let it snap back making you yelp in pain and pleasure at this point you feel your pussy soaking and begging for attention.
“Oh is that what you want darling? For daddy to touch your little pretty pussy” he hums as he leans down to start leaving kisses and gentle bites on your inner thighs, you clench around nothing and subconsciously buck up your hips when he gets closer to where you need him the most and you whine out of frustration.
“H-Heeseung please touch me, I beg please make me feel good I want you to play with my pussy FUCK” tears start to prickle in your eyes when you feel his hot breath on your clothed core, you squirm and whimper when he starts to rub your clit through your soaked panties.
“Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me all for me right nobody else?” he questions as he starts run his fingers through your wet clothed folds causing you to let out a high pitched moan.
“Yes seungie, all for you I don’t want nobody else but you this pussy is all yours always been yours” Heeseung smirks at your words and decides it’s time to stop teasing and give you what you’re begging for so he taps on your legs signaling for you to lift up from the mattress so he can slide your panties off. Once he’s got your panties off he licks a stripe of your pussy and start to suck on your clit.
“Oh Fuck Yes baby just like that, Shit your tongue feels so good baby boy” Heeseung groans at your words and the vibration of the groan sends a jolt of pleasure through your body and you start to comb your fingers through his locks gripping onto them.
“God baby this pussy taste so fucking sweet, can’t get enough of you that’s why I keep coming back to this wet little delicious pussy” Heeseung starts to suck and slurp your pussy like a starved man, you can feel the knot in your stomach threatening to come undone when you feel him tongue fucking your tight hole and swirling his tongue all inside.
“Oh my god daddy I’m gonna cum please let me cum i beg you please let me I been such a good girl” you cry out as you feel your body trembling and your legs shaking uncontrollably after Heeseung delivers a harsh suck to your clit and you come undone on his tongue squirting your juices all over his mouth and on your bedsheets.
“Fuck that was so damn hot baby, naughty little pussy squirting so much for me such a good fucking girl” he comes up to kiss you, you whimper against his lips when you taste the faint taste of your cum on his lips.
“So, do you still wanna leave me?”
A/n: This was inspired by Summer Walker’s song Body, it’s one of my favorite songs by her and for some reason I somehow came up with this idea😩 but hope you guys enjoy this one and please feel free to reblog😁💋
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?
Word Count: 6.8 k
Warnings:
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The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”
You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.
Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”
“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”
Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 
“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”
“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 
You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”
You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.
He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.
You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 
The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.
Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.
A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 
You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   
The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.
Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.
With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.
How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 
Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 
The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.
You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 
Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.
Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 
…to what belongs to him.
Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   
All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 
“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.
“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.
His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 
You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”
A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.
“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 
A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”
His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.
Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 
“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 
Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 
As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 
“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.
Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”
Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”
His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”
Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”
Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”
A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”
“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”
“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”
“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 
Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 
“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”
“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.
The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.
A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”
Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 
And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”
Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  
You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 
“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”
God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.
“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 
Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”
You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 
“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 
Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 
“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 
Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 
“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 
Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?
You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?
There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.
A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 
A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”
Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 
“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”
Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.
“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 
He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 
“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 
“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.
You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 
“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”
Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.
You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 
A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 
“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”
His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.
Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.
Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 
The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 
“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 
“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 
“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 
His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  
Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  
“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 
And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 
You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.
Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.
“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”
“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 
“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”
You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 
“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”
Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”
His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 
“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   
You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 
“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”
You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”
His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”
Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 
A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.
“Say it,” he demands again. 
“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 
Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.
“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.
Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.
You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.
“Again.”
“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”
Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”
“Yes!” you blurt out.
He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”
Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 
“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 
He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 
But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.
From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   
“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”
Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 
The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 
Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 
You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.
“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”
A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.
“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.
Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.
He wouldn’t expect anything less.
“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 
Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.
“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  
“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”
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afsosville · 4 days
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You know what would've been nice? Shen Jiu ending up on a different peak that's actually good for him. Maybe Qian Cao, or the beast taming peak could've been hella therapeutic. Or the alcohol/brewery peak to drown away all his sorrows. But what if he stayed fucked up, in a way that's actually good and productive for society? Yeah, I wanna toss him over to Yin Hui and let him run wild! I've seen many iterations of Yin Hui, the fanon peak for espionage and poisons in fanfics. By extension, Yin Hui is also covertly the assassination peak, and I wish this peak got more attention around here tbh. Why do I think this peak is the most well suited for Shen Jiu? BECAUSE ASSASSINS. Duh.
So here comes a baby demonic cultivator Shen Jiu and the Yin Hui peak lord immediately wants him. Shen Jiu would be more readily accepted by his peak martial siblings, and no one would bat an eye at Shen Jiu, his standoffish personality or shady past. A lot of Yin Hui disciples are from questionable backgrounds since the Yin Hui peak lord naturally has to be very particular about selecting their disciples. Yin Hui was established to protect the sect and its people by any means necessary. Sure, the rest of the sect may fight against the supernatural, demons, and the undead, but Yin Hui fights an even greater monster: people.
The Yin Hui peak lord manipulated things so that the first impression the rest of the sect has about Shen Jiu is 'that new badass Yin Hui disciple that killed the criminal Wu Yanzi and saved the future sect leader!' (Seeing as Wu Yanzi would be the very sort of ppl they assassinate, he's already getting goated on Yin Hui too.) So Shen Jiu is known as that new prodigious disciple from Yin Hui and is getting some goddamn respect! And just because of his association with his peak, fewer people are inclined to question his background and whatnot since there's an understanding that the identity of the YH disciples needs to be heavily guarded. The Yin Hui peak lord finds out about the Qiu's soon enough, and they erase any and all traces leading back to Shen Jiu. Even framing it in a way that makes it look like WY did the massacre. Any credibility Qiu Haitang could've had for Shen Jiu's murder accusations is thrown out the window. (Ain’t no way in hell the Yin Hui peak lord is going to name SJ that stupid trauma inducing name like a certain Qing Jing peak lord, that's for sure.)
I'm pulling in elements from MDZS over here. In my version of Yin Hui, they have disciples who practice demonic cultivation, but they make sure it's in a safer way that won't hurt them. There's a surprising number of disciples who have damaged cultivation and chose to cultivate the ghost path. The previous generations of Yin Hui peak lords have created Wei Wuxian's inventions in this AU, and is used by the rest of the peak, like the compass of ill winds, paper metamorphosis, the spirit attraction flag, and empathy. I lowkey want a Wei Wuxian that's native to SV to be the Yin Hui peak lord, now that I think about it. He's good with his kiddos and would be an awesome shizun. And ofc, Shen Jiu is a reflection of his environment, so he's certainly making an example out of Wei Wuxian, one of the only positive influences in his life.
Shen Jiu still has his violent tendencies, so nothing has changed about that, but he learns to take that pent-up energy out on missions instead. And he does them well. It even gives him an edge. Everyone else thinks he's just reallyyy good at his job, as expected of the talented head disciple of Yin Hui!!
He really does try his best to not be an ass (bc he gets the love he deserves on Yin Hui) and ends up venting in a different way (coz he knows better than to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.) His shizun really gave him the free reign to kill sl@ve trad3rs, human tr@ffick3rs, r-ists, and other scum whenever he wanted, in the name of stress relief lol. If killing a particular person becomes politically complicated, like the Old Palace Bastard, then you best believe he's going to scheme like the little schemer he is. He's going to Nie Huaisang the OPM.
Since Shen Jiu is not salty about his fucked up cultivation, and his martial siblings respect him, they get along just fine. His cultivation is some parts similar to Wei Wuxian's: Shen Jiu is a ghost cultivator influenced by music. Sure, he may not be that great of a spiritual cultivator, so what? He's pulling up like the Yiling Patriarch with his demonic cultivation and a haunted guqin of his own.
And guess what? Shen Jiu enjoys teaching. He's training miniature assassins, spies, and the art of demonic cultivation, so forgive him if he's more than a little enthusiastic about it. I imagine that he's exactly like Shifu from kung fu panda when it comes to teaching. Still extremely harsh and strict when training, but outside of actually teaching, he's an attentive and caring shizun. And yes, he completely does act like a father figure who is proud of his murder babies, and ends up being called A-Ba so much that all of Cang Qiong thinks he's officially adopted every single one of his disciples. (After being saved by SJ on a mission, NYY persistently begs SJ to take her in even though he desperately thinks Yin Hui isn't a good fit for her. And then, after being under him for a while, she's completed her first mission successfully, has smn else's blood on her face, and is smiling brightly. 
Ning Yingying: "I completed my mission shizun! Are you proud of me?"
Shen Jiu: "..."
Some other peaklord: "Haha like father like daughter! She's definitely your girl alright!"
Shen Jiu: "...!?!" )
Yue Qingyuan is conerneth about his Xiao Jiu, but as long as he's happy, who cares. Shen Jiu has a better relationship with the other peak lords, so when asked about why he visits brothels, he straight up tells them that it's the best place to gather information in the dark. He doesn't have that mentality of "why explain myself when no ones finna believe me anyway" He actually trusts them and is more honest with time. Shen Jiu does come clean about killing the Qiu's at some point, and the peak lords are all like-
"I didn't hear shit"
"See, I'm blind in my left eye, and 75% blind in my right-"
"Completely understandable, Shen shidi!"
They don't even ask why he did it and just assume he had a valid reason, and he absolutely fucking did.
Oh, Shen Jiu gets accused of playing dirty? Liu Qingge, he literally kills ppl and makes poison as a daytime fucking job ofc he's gonna play dirty! Shen Jiu tried killing you that one time on the well mission? Bro you good? The fact that you think he tried to kill you and failed?? You just insulted an entire peak of disciples and their ancestors. You would've been dead before you could even think of sensing their killing intent if it were true. And there was a witness too, doofus. Be fucking for real. Nahh coz there definitely would be more people who are taking Shen Jiu's side whenever the two of them fight.
Shen Jiu uses a shit ton of versatile weapons because most of his fighting and cultivation prowess comes from his wits and adapting to fighting with different styles/methods. He is kinda similar to Xie Lian bc both of them lack spiritual energy/qi (damaged spirit roots in Shen Jiu's case), but that does not mean they are weaker. It just means they learned to train their body and minds instead of relying on cultivation/qi. He has a massive arsenal of weapons along with the demonic cultivation. (Airport security would hate him)
Yin Hui has got to be my favorite fanon peak, and Yin Hui! Shen Jiu plauges so many of my waking thoughts, I can't stop-
I can add elements from my other hyperfixation into this AU, the Avatar Chronicles. Which are the written books from ATLA. The criminal organization Kyoshi joined, the Daofei, for example, could be a good plot point. Or the Platinum Affair from the Yangchen books. If you don’t know what the Avatar Chronicles are, just ignore this last part lol.
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miserycanary · 4 months
Text
MISSION: LOVE KILL  ᡣ𐭩 [trailer]
pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader
synopsis: the trailer to my very first full-length series set in a soulmate AU. 
pairings: (applies to future parts) angst, smut, fluff, mutual pining, misunderstandings, rivals to lovers to rivals, featuring Ghost's inability to communicate, graphic mentions of violence, might hint to sexual violence, BARELY PUT TOGETHER, torture, one bed trope, i-will-wait-for-you trope, loving-you-is-like-breathing trope, slowburn (unless I get bored and rush this), poor poor attempt in crack, will add more as we go on
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The subtle searing pain on the back of his neck is enough reason for Ghost to hate the idea of soulmates existing. It wasn’t just the fact that he has lived up to his 30s feeling like a fire wasp is buzzing under his skin, it was that the government fully developed their system with pairs in mind. You mean to tell him that he has to have found his partner—who’s probably cities or even continents away—just so that he could fucking own property? Utter fucking bullshit, he calls it. 
‘Nutjobs! The lot of them’
It was also the fact he had to watch his mum’s so-called soulmate almost beat them up to death each day. How could someone whose single purpose in life is to torment them be his mother’s soulmate? Fate either has a weird take on the concept of love and the whole shenanigan or it’s fucking wicked. Either way, the S-word has left a bad taste in his mouth—and memory. He would rather die, not having property—or anything really—to his name if it means that he wouldn’t comply to the fucking standards of pairs. 
Or so he thought because, once again, life is fucking wicked like that. 
When he first broke the news that he would be retiring from the army, he expected his future days ahead full of smooth-sailing lounging. Maybe a cup of tea in hand or even some biscuits if he was feeling fancy. Imagine his shocked face when he inquired with a real-estate agent to finally have something to call home, no longer needing to stay by some cheap hotel with what his little pay could afford, that he cannot fucking do that! 
“Yeah, this would be good. Really nice stuff here,” Ghost gruffs. “Yeah? Well, let’s get started then. Um, here are the paperworks that you need to fill out. Uhh, you just need to input your government code and your partner’s. It is policy that you bring your pair in with you when it comes to legal documents, but I’m sure that we could make an exception for our veteran here,” the agent smiles; one that Ghost did not reciprocate. “I ain’t got a missus with me. Haven’t found them yet.” 
It was a simple explanation, not wanting to dwell too much on his reasons. Before he could even take the papers in his hand, the man retracts. Confusion etched on Ghost’s face while pity is on the man’s. “Oh, I am really sorry but you are legally required to have a partner before you could own property—or anything for that matter.” Ghost looked this agent for a good few minutes, anticipating the ‘sike’ that he desperately wishes to hear but only dead silence echoes. “Surely you could, say, make an except for a veteran?” he nervously chuckles out, trying to weasel his way into a fucking home. Nothing. Dead fucking silence that’s heavy with pity. Ghost loathes it.
Without even saying a word, he turns his back and starts walking towards the car he rented today, because you can’t even own a car in this government! He should have flagged it as weird when the lady in the car shop insists that he should rent first before buying something. So, now he sits in the dingy bar that Soap has dragged him into after he informed the force that he would not be settling anytime soon. After explaining his circumstance, he expected them to react like he did before, but no. They all replied like they knew this. Even saying stuff like, “you didn’t know?” Of course he didn’t! It wasn’t like Ghost was invested in property or anything for that matter while he was serving. All he cared about was surviving each day, and that is it. 
“Aye, cheer up, lad. Life ain’ that bad. Ya’ just gotta get them lassie, and all yer problems would go away,” the Scot on his right drunkenly offers advice—a shit one at that. Did he really think Ghost hasn’t stepped foot on every land they got deployed with heavy hopes that he’ll find whoever he needs to find there? He fucking hates it here. He should have not retired this early if he knew this would happen. Now he needs to go around the world and search for the lassie whose presence—or her lack thereof—is the root of all his problems. 
If finding a needle in a haystack is hard, imagine finding a lady that’s probably moving countries as he speaks with Soap. “Yeah, like that’s fucking easy,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes before lifting his mask just enough to down his shot of whiskey. The fiery burn of the alcohol down his throat is nothing compared to the one on his neck. He would rather have it cut at this point than to go on about this miserable lifetime any longer.
“Should I just cut and peel it off?” he mumbles to no one in particular; probably to Fate if that shit is listening. Seeing that no one else in the rundown bar is really paying attention to him, Soap takes the honour in replying to him instead. “According tae what I’ve seen, jobby pain is hee haw compared tae th' pain ye will feel in yer heart. Doctors say that th' pain goes tae th' heart instead while tripling”. Unprompted, Ghost curses like a fucking sailor. Saying stuff that will probably get him on the government's watchlist if he wasn’t part of the military serving this goddamn country. He risks his life daily and this is what he gets? Ungrateful bastards.
With a slam of the glass on the mahogany table, he stands up with a new profound determination. “Fuck it, I’m finding that missus if it’s the last thing that I do”. “Eyy, that’s the spirit, matie,” Soap drunkenly encourages him, which should have been the first red flag on this idea. Any idea supported by Soap is an immediate botch.
Well, what could go wrong? He’s retired anyway. 
Turns out, many could go wrong. Well, here’s to the fucking shit-show of his life.
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꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: please give this love!!
dividers by @cafekitsune
Please reblog!! Ask is open!
⟢ taglist is open!! @hotvinimon
check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!
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ddollfface · 3 months
Note
Ahhh! I just read ‘a little unhinged’ and I’m in love. It’s perfect. Is there a possibility that you could do the last one? Again thank you for doing my suggestion!
-🐏
𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗦𝗶𝗰𝗸!𝗔𝘁𝗵𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
Trigger Warnings; implied!f!reader, unwanted touching, grody-gross behavior, sexual touching (unwanted), LoveSick!Athlete being a total ass, no sex scenes, kinda dark ig, no proof read btw (but the's just expected lol)
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He was perfect. 
The teachers knew. Your friends knew. His teammates knew, and they all made sure that you knew it. No matter where you went, someone was always congratulating you on the relationship, blabbering on and on about how difficult it must’ve been to bag such a guy like him. Walking in the hall, you got far more comments on your dress, telling you that you must be taking his advice or how today must be his lucky day. Whenever you finished a class, your teachers made sure to add a little ‘Tell him, I said hi!’ to the greeting or farewell. And your friends, God, they wouldn’t let it up! 
All the conversations steered back to him, no matter what you guys were talking about! For some reason, all they wanted to know was him, him, him. You could be talking about… shopping, for example, and the conversation would somehow turn to him, even though he loathes shopping if it isn’t with you! One moment, you’d be rambling off about this new mall that you recently heard about some random girl, how it’s got all the new stores, but noooo, your friends just wanted to talk about how he modeled for a certain store there. Now, you were stuck listening to them gush about your boyfriend, who doesn’t even model, by the way! He told you, word-for-word, that he “hated touching the girl models ‘cause they don’t feel like you, mamas,” smooth like always…
His teammates, they’re… something, yeah that’s for sure. They don’t quite know when to shut up, or when to talk, frankly, they’re just creepy. There’s something about them that just throws you off. Throughout your relationship, you’ve always felt uncomfortable, and you’ve told him so, and he’s listened! He’s always made sure that they were a comfortable distance from you, never letting their lust-filled gazes strain for too long, making sure to set them straight. Usually, a stern glare would suffice, but he wasn’t afraid to give a beat down, never in front of you, of course. You were better than that, and like hell he’d ever let his baby see such a thing!
You knew what he did though, but it just made you trust him more, knowing that he had your back even though it was his teammates, the people he was closest to (rather than you). The fact that he was willing to beat someone to a bloody pulp for you clouded your vision, ignoring the fact that it was a bright, beading red flag that was practically blaring in your face! I mean… of course, it’s not the most practical thing to do, but at least his teammates weren’t perving on you anymore, right? 
Yeah, you should be grateful. 
After all, he is perfect. 
.
.
.
“No thank you.” 
You’d decline politely, a stiff smile perched on your lips. Your eyes don’t crinkle, but your brows do furrow, pupils dilating slightly as they flicker across the locker room, realizing the mistake you’ve just made. The way your heart jabs against your chest, thumping against your ribs in a heavy rhythm that screamed run, hide, anything that’d get you out of this situation, made your head feel dizzy and thoughts swirl with anything but cognizance. 
“Awwe, c’mon, sweets! You and the cap’ ain’t nothin’, yeah? He told us ‘bout your little freak out,” Cheekily grinning, he places air quotes around his words, and takes another step forward. A large palm rested on your shoulder, causing you to cringe, jerking your body away, bones creaking in a robotic motion as you just collided with another body. Your eyes snapped toward the other, your eyes meeting his hazel ones, watching as they clouded with lust and want. A want that’s been suppressed, denied-
“Oh! Hey Captain-” One flushed, immediately backing away at the sight of the brooding athlete, putting his hands up in defense with a sheepish smile. Letting out a breath, that you didn’t know you’d been holding in, you turned your body to face the entrance of the locker room, only to meet his back. He wasn’t even facing you. 
His broad back met your eyes, flickering across the toned muscle that stretched underneath his golden skin, the way the sweat glimmered and reflected against the light as he tugged his shirt over his body, huffing under his breath. He hadn’t even acknowledged anyone in the room, continuing as if no one was there. Though his dark eyes briefly met his vice-captain. The normal warning glance gone, replaced with one of aloofness, something that showed no emotional care, one that broke your heart. You caught it, and you caught the way the room seemed to shift from that of a stale, almost nervous atmosphere, to a eager and relief one. 
And just like that, you took a step back, hands on your bag as you were quick to make steps backward, desperate to leave, leave, leave. You need to leave, your conscience screamed at you, noticing how eyes seemed to shift onto your sweating figure. One would think that you’d been practicing with them with the thin layer that stuck to your skin, making your senses flash awake. 
“I’m going-” You choked out, surprised that your own vocals worked, almost gasping when a sweaty, bulging arm was slung over your shoulder, feeling the sweat stick to your neck as it pulled you closer. Lips parting as you pushed against the arms, nails digging into the skin, feeling the muscles and tendons flex. 
“Nahhh, I don’ think so, sweetheart. The cap’s given the okay, which means you’re all mine-” The arm slithered from your shoulder to your front, pulling your back to his chest, forcing his hand on your front. His large hand holding you against himself, fingers pressing against your clavicle and pinching the thin skin, chuckling under his breath. He hunched over you, his free hand trailing up your shirt, sweaty hands prodding and poking at your smooth skin. 
You almost gagged when his lips pressed against your ear, eyes flickering forward when footsteps approached, causing you to open your mouth, ready to scream. A painful gasp left your lips when his teeth sunk into your neck, lips suckling on your nape as his hand grabbed at your soft flesh, feeling up your curves. 
Thrashing in his grasp, you felt tears prod at your waterline, vision blurring as you called out to him, “Please-wait! Stop! Let go of me, you creep! Fuck off-!” You screamed, worried that no one was going to come. It settled, no one could hear you.
Your chest heaved as your jaw clenched, feeling your cheeks wet as tears dribbled down your puffy cheeks. Your hands swatted at the meaty arm around your waist, pinching and grasping at any skin you could get your hands on, scratching up his arm as others watched, dark chuckles leaving their lips at the sight. Looking up, your eyes met his, silently pleading with him as your lip wobbled. His eyes were empty as if he was dissociating, pushing back any thought that spread through his mind, replacing it with one thought: you asked for this. 
“Help me! I-” You called out his name, jabbing your elbow in the guy's gut, pushing with all your strength, ignoring the gleaming eyes that peered down at you. And as they closed in, a chest pressing you back into another chest, hands groping and touching you, leaving nothing unscathed. You screamed, pleading with apologies, anything that’d just get him to listen, to help you out of this, just as he did yesterday, a week ago, hell even a month ago! 
Though it was meek, a silent whisper of sorts, you heard it, and you heard it loud and clear. It was as if he’d yelled across the room, screaming his lungs out until his throat filled with bile and blood, his eyes gleaming into yours. But it wasn’t, it was nothing but a meer whisper, only meant for your ears only.
“You don’t need me, no?”
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drabbles-mc · 4 months
Text
Hands All Over
Rick Flag x F!Reader
Based on the request from @beardburnsupersoldiers: could you do #11 (“I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”) with Rick Flag??? (Prompt is from This List)
Warnings: 18+, language, smut, jealous Rick
Word Count: 5.4k
A/N: my requests are closed but i have been thinking about this in the best way ever since you sent it in and i finally finished it tonight so I'm sending it out into the universe. I'm forever unwell about this man but i hope you enjoy!!!! xo (as always this is unbeta'd af but it's made with love)
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You were purposely ignoring the pissed off look on Rick’s face as he stared at you from across the lot. It was early still. The guards hadn’t even rounded up everyone that the two of you needed from Belle Reeve yet. The usual suspects had been brought out first, people they knew weren’t going to put up much of a fight even if they wanted to. It was a short list, and seemed to get shorter all the time whether it was because they kept shaving years off people’s sentences, or because there were almost always a couple team members who didn’t make it home at the end of a mission. Turnover was constant, but it wasn’t as though Belle Reeve was ever going to run out of inmates.
Regardless, it left you and Rick out in the lot with Harley, Peacemaker, and Captain Boomerang. Over the next few minutes you were sure that others would slowly start to trickle out, people with no real clue about what they were getting roped into.
The reason that Rick was giving you the glare was two-fold—he was pissed off about what he was seeing, and he was also pissed off that he couldn’t even try to say anything about it. The first part was your fault, really. But the second part? That was just as much on Rick as it was on you. Maybe if you two had taken the time to ever actually talk about what your deal was, situations like this wouldn’t have him reacting quite so obviously. As it stood, Rick was too stubborn to start the conversation and you enjoyed stirring the pot too much to start it yourself.
So, there you were, leaning back against the transport vehicle you and Rick would be loading everyone into soon enough. Your back was braced against it, one boot on the ground, the other resting back flat against the large tire. Your arms were crossed in front of you as you looked at Boomerang. He was closely mirroring your stance as he stood beside you. You might’ve been vaguely aware of how close he was standing, but judging by the clench in Rick’s jaw it was just about the only thing that he was aware of.
Boomerang had always been a little more comfortable around you than he should’ve been. You figured out pretty quickly after meeting him that trying to fight him on it all the time was not only exhausting, but it wasn’t effective. So along the way the two of you found your middle-ground. You were fine with it, the banter and jokes that definitely wouldn’t be workplace appropriate at any other job, but even without looking at Rick when it happened you knew that he wasn’t a fan.
“C’mon.” Boomer nudged his shoulder against yours. “How many more missions till I can take you out?”
You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Bold of you to assume that the only reason you can’t take me out is because you’re currently in prison.”
He pretended to be offended and hurt by the comment. “That ain’t very nice, now is it?” He paused as you laughed. “Got some boyfriend on the outside, then?”
Turning your head to look at him, you said, “Why would I have to—”
He held his hands up in mock surrender. “Or a girlfriend. Don’t matter.”
You chuckled. “I never said any of that.”
He stepped away from the truck. Turning on his heel, he stood so that he was facing you head-on. “By the time I’m outta here, sweetheart, I’ll win you over.”
Even though you knew it wasn’t ever going to happen, you still found yourself smirking at the concept of him trying to woo you. Whatever that meant to him. “Always good to have a goal.”
There were a few beats of silence as he looked around the lot. You could tell that he was starting to get a little antsy, Harley too from the sounds of it as she chattered away at one of the new recruits that had been brought out. This was always the longest part. Briefing everyone was quick, and the rides to the mission locations went by fast because of the commentary flying around amongst everyone. Waiting for everyone to get chipped and brought out got to be a drag after a while.
Boomer was feeling it, pulling out one of his boomerangs and fiddling with it passively in his hand the way a child would fuss with a toy. Arms crossed over your chest, you nodded towards the item in his hand. “Not getting that out just because I said you couldn’t take me out, right?”
His grin split wide enough to catch the glint off his gold tooth. “’Course not.” He fiddled with it for another second longer before pointing at you with it. “Ever used one’a these?” You shook your head and he switched so that it was laying flat in his upturned palm, hand out to you like a peace offering. “Wanna try?”
“Boomer—”
“Give it a shot! ‘s the worst that could happen? We’re the Suicide Squad anyway, right?”
No matter what your rebuttal was, it wasn’t going to be good enough for him. Using your foot that was braced against the tire, you pushed off the side of the truck. “Fine. Only because I know I’ll never hear the end of it from you.”
He was practically cackling as he set it in your hand. “Might make a bad guy outta you yet.”
The two of you weren’t even being all that loud but the words were grating against Rick’s ears halfway across the lot like he was trapped in an echo chamber. The internal conflict of enjoying the sound of your laughter versus knowing that you were laughing at something that Harkness said had him rooted to the spot. If he clenched his jaw any tighter he was liable to chip a tooth.
First it was listening to the two of you shooting comments back and forth, your indirect denial of having someone on the outside. He was frustrated with that even though deep down he knew that even if you’d said you were with someone, it wouldn’t have stopped Boomerang. Deeper down still, he knew that he’d never said anything to you about the relationship between the two of you, but it was easier for him in that moment to forget that small detail.
That was frustrating enough, but then he saw the way that Boomer was so quick to put his hands on yours, how comfortable he was shifting the two of you so that he was standing behind you. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t take the man seriously in a million years, that no matter the innuendo or the offer he wasn’t ever going to win you over. In that moment, Harkness was closer to you at work than Rick ever would be. And you were smiling and laughing about it.
Not nearly soon enough, the last of this round’s Task Force X were brought out to the yard. You’d managed to get one mildly successful boomerang throw in, and Rick had stopped just short of giving himself an aneurysm.
“Alright,” he barked, more anger in his words than necessary as he walked towards the truck, “everyone load up. We’ll brief on the way.”
You stood back watching as they all filed in. There were murmurs, quick exchanges as everyone tried to get situated in the cramped space. You tried to stifle your chuckles as you heard Harley riling everyone up as they got strapped in.
Unsurprisingly, Boomerang was bringing up the back of the line. Before stepping up into the vehicle, he stopped right beside you. You could feel the humor dripping off his words as he motioned for you to get in before him. “Beauty befor—”
Rick gave him a harsh shove between his shoulder blades, cutting him off in the process. “Get in the fuckin’ truck,” he grit out.
Boomerang’s entire face contorted in annoyance and offense for a moment. He looked over his shoulder at you as he climbed into the vehicle. “When’re you gonna stop lettin’ that one tag along?” He gestured to Rick.
Rick’s brows were pinched together as tight as you’d ever seen them. “Harkness.”
It was all that had to be said. He slipped into the back of the transport with everyone else. You were still looking at the now-empty door, unaware of the look that Rick was now giving to you. There were plenty of things that he wanted to say to you, do to you, right there in that moment just to prove a point but he couldn’t.
You started to speak. “So how—”
All the words flew right out of your head as Rick’s hand clamped tightly down onto your shoulder. Catching you off-guard he easily pushed you, pinning you between him and the side of the truck. One of his legs was slotted between yours. He was leaning in close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin when he spoke.
His voice was painfully low. “I bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”
You were so off-kilter that you couldn’t even come up with the witty responses that you were in the habit of giving him. He’d never put himself in such a close position with you at work before. You knew him well enough to know that being friendly with Boomerang would get under his skin a little bit. If only you’d known how much—you would’ve done it a hell of a lot sooner.
The digging of his fingertips even through your shirt had you locked in place. It was exciting as it was nerve-wracking, especially since there was a truckload of prisoners just a mere flap of metal away from you. You and Rick had always had different definitions of the term reckless, and this was about as reckless as it got for him. He tried so hard not to let his personal life bleed into the job, and yet here he was. You loved knowing that you could have this effect on him if you tried, even if it was making your knees nearly knock together in the moment.
It could’ve only been a couple seconds that had passed, but you felt like the silence had been stretching on infinitely when you finally managed to try and speak up. “I don’t—”
“You do,” he cut you off. There was the slightest twitch in his hand on your shoulder, a clue that he wanted to put it somewhere else but he stopped himself. Not feeling quite reckless enough for that yet.
“I—”
His voice seemed to drop even lower in volume, not that it dulled the sharp edges of what he was saying to you. “Don’t play dumb now.” He finally released you and stepped back. A professional amount of space existed between you once more. “Let’s go.” He started to walk towards the driver’s side. “We got shit to do.”
You gave yourself until the door on the other side of the vehicle opened. Then you took a deep breath and got yourself swung up into the passenger seat. There were bigger things to worry about for now, and you decided that those bigger things were why you still felt a slight shaking in your legs.
There was never such a thing as a simple mission with Task Force X. Even when things were pitched to you and Rick as easy, or simple, or in-and-out missions, they never seemed to play out that way. You chalked it up to the squad, and also to Waller never giving anyone a straight answer about anything. That usually covered your bases.
This time you had the additional layer of problems stemming from Rick’s attitude for the day. He wasn’t ever warm and fuzzy with the team, but the last time you saw him walking around with such a noticeable chip on his shoulder was back in the days of Midway City. Only this time his frustration wasn’t about the whole team, it was about one team member in particular. Or two, if you included yourself in the count.
Your team didn’t have the luxury of ascribing to the, “no man left behind,” mentality. But even so, it didn’t mean that no one could try at all. And who knows, maybe if someone who wasn’t Harkness had taken a bullet to the thigh, Rick would’ve reacted differently. You didn’t get to find out.
Rick had brushed past him, determined to get to get everything over as quickly as possible. His lack of concern was met with a slew of angry, vulgar remarks from Boomerang, and perhaps rightfully so. You stopped to at least help the man get to his feet, even if you weren’t going to be carrying him or acting as a human crutch for the rest of the mission.
“Flag,” you chastised as you caught up to him.
“What?” he snapped back, matching your tone.
You let your voice drop to just above a whisper. Loud enough for him to hear over everything happening around the two of you, but not so loud that the rest of the team with you was going to catch it.
“You said we’ll sort it at home, so let’s sort it at home.”
He shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? So you’re trying to tell me that there’s nothing different about—”
“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you.”
The sound of gunfire up ahead stopped your conversation then and there. You knew that once the chaos had died down, the two of you would get right back into it. There were just more pressing matters to deal with at the moment, like the people pointing their guns at you.
There were no other major injuries to anyone else on the team. A few bumps and scrapes but it looked like Boomerang was the only one who was going to be taking a trip to the medical wing. He would’ve been looking forward to that if it wasn’t currently being preceded by Peacemaker carrying him back to the transport vehicle. No matter how much he struggled and swore, he wasn’t able to break free. It was a comical sight, seeing him draped over Peacemaker’s shoulder—everyone else was getting a kick out of it even if Boomerang wasn’t. Him and Rick.
Rick didn’t say a single word to you the entire drive back. Even when everyone was getting unloaded and sent back to their cells, it felt like he hadn’t even done so much as look at you. It was something that any other day you wouldn’t have noticed, because that’s just how it was when you were both working. But it felt different this time, tense in a way that it didn’t used to be.
He only spoke to you in the parking lot by your cars because you asked him a question that he couldn’t give a yes or no answer to. He didn’t even look at you as he answered it, instead looking down as he dug his keys out of his pocket.
“Yours or mine?” you asked.
“Yours.”
You waited for follow-up commentary that never came. You waited for him to pick back up the argument from earlier, or for him to reignite the jealous streak that he’d had going earlier still. But he gave you nothing as he unlocked the doors to his pickup.
With a roll of your eyes, you followed suit and got into your own car as well. If he wanted to keep stewing on all of this until you both got back to your place, you’d let him. You didn’t bother waiting for him as you peeled out of the parking lot and made your way home. It wasn’t as though he would be lagging that far behind you.
You’d just stepped into the shower at your apartment when you heard the heavy sound of his boots on the floor. You heard them pause outside the bathroom door, and for a moment you found yourself holding your breath and waiting to see if he was going to come in with you. The hesitation had you thinking that he was thinking about doing just that. But then the footsteps continued. The breath you’d been holding came out as a disappointed sigh.
When you were done with your shower, you weren’t expecting to walk into your bedroom to find Rick sitting on the edge of the bed, still dressed in his work save for his boots that were set just off to the side of him, but there he was. His hands were wrapped around the edge of the mattress, head tilted down as he stared at the floor.
“Shower’s yours if you want it,” you said, letting it announce your presence in the process.
That got him to look up at you. His expression wasn’t giving much of anything away, but as his eyes raked up and down your body you caught the way that his jaw clenched. His fingers gripped onto the blanket that covered your mattress just a little tighter as he took in the sight of the stray droplets of water still clinging to your shoulders and neck. Your skin warmed at the realization.
Seeing that he made no move to get up, you walked over to him. You stood between his legs, the rough fabric of his cargo pants a stark contrast to the softness of you skin, legs left exposed by the towel wrapped around you that barely reached the tops of your thighs. He swallowed hard, eyes crawling their way up your body to your face. Now he was in the position of having to look up at you, a position he didn’t find himself in very often. Even though his eyes gave him away, he tried to keep his unbothered façade in place.
“Still not talking to me, then? Came over just to give me the silent treatment in my own home?”
He remained silent, and you were wondering if it was because he was stringing together what it was that he wanted to say, or if he just couldn’t get the words out. Either way, you were painfully curious as to what was going to happen next.
“C’mon,” there was a playful lilt to your tone as you went to cup his face with your hand, “don’t—”
You stopped yourself short when he reached up and grabbed tightly onto your wrist. It didn’t hurt. He’d never hurt you. But his grip was tight enough to prove a point. Your jaw snapped shut as he held onto you, preventing and continuing to keep you from being able to touch his face.
“He doesn’t get to touch you like that,” he finally said, each word spoken low and deep.
His voice, his words, the look on his face, it all sent a wave of chills over your body. The same feeling you had outside the transport earlier, that feeling of being rooted to the ground beneath you, came right back. You couldn’t even bring yourself to reach out and touch him with your other hand.
Your voice came out quieter than you planned. “It wasn’t…” You trailed off as he lowered your hand that he was holding, his grip loosening off your wrist as he started to slide his hand up the bare skin of your arm until it was on your shoulder.
His fingers curled over the curve of your shoulder. “No one gets to touch you like that.”
You took a breath, determined to get a full sentence out this time. “I guess I didn’t think it would bother you so much.”
Whatever snarky, angry response you had been gearing up for, he didn’t deliver. Instead, he pulled you closer, your small step turning into a stumble as your hands landed on his shoulders to brace yourself. His hands instantly went to your waist, fingers digging into the plush fabric of the towel that was wrapped around you. He didn’t break his gaze the entire time.
His tone was even, almost dangerously so. “It did.”
The stubborn part of you was drawing in a breath to tell him that you weren’t sorry, that you weren’t going to apologize, that maybe if he’d just taken the time to talk to you about how he felt or what all of this was maybe the two of you wouldn’t be in this situation. But before you could even get yourself to utter the first syllable, he tightened his grip on your hips and quickly turned the both of you so that you landed on your back on the bed with a surprised yelp.
It took him no time at all to move you both so that you were in the center of the bed. One hand firmly cupped your jaw as he pinned his lips to yours in a heated kiss, a kiss that had you all but melting into the comforter of your bed. Your palms flattened against the planes of muscle across his chest for the briefest moment before you balled the fabric of his shirt into your fists. You pulled him closer to you, as tight as you could manage as you laid beneath him.
He gave into it for a moment as his tongue slipped past your lips into your mouth. You moaned at the sensation, his tongue on yours, the way the tips of his fingers were starting to press harder into your jaw. You were about to loop your legs around his waist, lock yourself to him, when he pulled away from you.
You were gasping for breath, fingers still gripping his shirt as he pulled back. Bringing his hand away from your jaw, he brought both hands to the top edge of the towel you were wearing. His fingers wrapped around the hem of it, he finally pried his gaze away from your face. He peeled the towel open, letting both sides of it fall away from you, leaving you completely exposed. His tongue ran along his bottom lip as he drank in the sight of you lying beneath him.
The rise of his chest as he pulled in a deep breath was impossible to miss. Your hands moved from his chest up to the sides of his neck, fingers interlocking at the nape of it as you pulled him back down into another kiss. He gave in without a fight, leaning his body weight onto you as he kissed you, hands racing down your sides, of your hips and onto your thighs.
His lips strayed from yours, dragging along to your jaw and down to your neck, leaving small, quick nips along the way. He moved down to your chest, lips and tongue teasing as they traveled over your breasts, pulling one taut nipple into his mouth and sucking on it in a way that had you whimpering and squirming in pleasure beneath him before he moved and repeated the process with the other.
“Rick,” his name fell from your lips, needy and breathless as you tangled your fingers into his hair. It was the only thing you could get yourself to say as he sucked a mark into the plush skin of your breast.
He kissed his way down your stomach, peppering a trail of kisses across your hips before moving down to your thighs. His teeth grazed along the soft, sensitive skin on the insides of your legs, the sensation making you drape your legs over his shoulders out of pure instinct.
His lips grazed over your folds, enough to feel how wet you were, not enough to give you any relief because of it. You tried to lift your hips and he immediately slid his arms and placed his hands so that they were pinning your hips to the bed once more. You whined, hands tugging at his hair.
Then you felt his tongue running up your slit, teasing you in a way that had you shuddering beneath him. You tried to pull him closer with no success, resigning yourself to his whim now. He might not have been able to say or do anything before, but he was the one in control now.
He kissed your core, tongue darting out until he switched and wrapped his lips around your clit. You moaned as his tongue ran over the nerves, causing your thighs to clamp around either side of his head.
“Fuck, Rick,” you moaned, grip on his hair loosening just enough to lightly drag your fingernails along his scalp. “Don’t stop.”
You felt one of his hands move from your hip and for a moment you were worried that he was going to stop just because you had asked him not to. You lifted your head up off the mattress, looking down at the sight of him nestled between your thighs. The way he looked had the breath getting caught in the back of your throat. Then he opened his eyes, looking up at you with his mouth still pressed to your core. You opened your mouth to try and say something when you felt two of his fingers pressing lightly against your slit. He covered them with your slick before pushing them into you, not breaking his eye contact with you as he did. The moan you let out had him tightening his grip on your hip, sucking harder on your clit as you writhed beneath his touch.
When he felt the way your thighs began to tremble, starting to clench tighter around him, he picked up the pace even more. Even though it was muffled, he could still hear the string of curses you let out the closer you got to your climax, the desperate way you said his name as you begged him to make you cum.
Seconds later your walls tightened around his fingers, your hips bucking up off the bed as you came. He worked you through it, his fingers and lips coated in your release as he refused to let up. He kept going even when your hands were pushing his shoulders, whining from the overstimulation. Your legs trembled as they hung limply over his shoulders, unable to muster up the strength to pull him closer or push him away.
You let out a trembling breath when he pulled his fingers out of you. He pressed one more kiss to the inside of your thigh before crawling his way back up your body. Without a beat of hesitation he caught your lips with his, tongue instantly running over yours allowing you to taste yourself off of him.
The friction of the rough fabric of his pants against your sensitive, naked core had you whining into his mouth as he kissed you. Still, instead of pushing him away, you started to undo his belt buckle. The second he pressed his body flush to yours again you’d felt how hard he was. Now you just wanted him inside you.
Undoing the button and zipper on his pants, wasted no time pushing both his pants and his underwear down off his hips in one motion. Rick barely took the time to kick them the rest of the way off before pushing into you.
The low moan of pleasure that he let out turned into your name as he bottomed out inside you. He pressed a harsh, needy kiss to your lips before letting his head drop into the crook of your neck. He gave you a couple long, slow thrusts to adjust before picking up the pace in a way that communicated all of his desperation for you. Your nails sank into his shoulders as he pounded into you, just looking for something to keep you tethered as you started to see stars behind your eyes all over again.
He nipped at your neck and shoulder as he pulled your legs so that they were looped tighter around him. He buried himself inside you, coaxing you along when you whimpered out that you were going to cum again. He pressed a kiss right below your ear, the praise he was whispering to you, calling you his, was enough to send you tumbling over the edge. He fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts beginning to falter as he felt your walls clenching around him. A few more sharp snaps of his hips had him spilling inside you.
He collapsed against you, fighting to catch his breath as his hear rested against your chest. He could hear the fast beat of your heart against his ear, and you could feel the quick breaths he was taking as he looped his arms around you. His touch was soft, gentle in a way it hadn’t been just moments before.
You rested one hand on the back of his head, the other between his shoulder blades. You idly toyed with strands of his hair as you let your eyes close. Neither of you said anything for a few minutes, instead choosing to revel in the silence and the closeness that came with it. It also gave you each a little while longer to catch your breath.
Eyes still closed, you spoke up, your voice soft but light. “So, you wanna talk about it?” you asked with a quiet laugh.
He was still laying on your chest. You didn’t know for sure but you were willing to bet that his eyes were closed too. “About what?” he replied in a half-mumble.
You dragged your fingers up and down his spine, pressing through his shirt. “Oh, so we’re just going to pretend you haven’t been angry and jealous all day? Gonna pretend that’s not where this came from?” You kept your tone upbeat enough so that it wouldn’t descend into an argument. That wasn’t what you were looking for.
It worked, too, because it got him to let out a laugh. “Wasn’t all day.”
You shook your head, would’ve rolled your eyes if they were open. “You’re such a pain.”
“And you’re not?” he joked right back. He lifted his head to look at you, which got you to open your eyes. “You gonna try and sit there and pretend you weren’t doing that shit to get under my skin?”
You smirked, giving a half-hearted shrug. “I didn’t think you’d care.”
“Why wouldn’t—”
“Oh, c’mon, Rick. We’ve been doing this song and dance for how long now? And we…you never…” You reached up to drag your hands down your face. “We’ve never talked about it. I figured that was your nice way of saying…you know.”
He frowned at that. “Oh.”
You laughed, letting your head drop back to the mattress again. “Good talk.”
He chuckled, pulling away from you just enough so that he could shift and lay beside you. It was easier to look at you that way as he propped his elbow and rested his head in the palm of his hand. “I never said anythin’ because I figured you knew.”
You rolled onto your side to face him. “Knew what?”
His other hand tenderly grazed along your cheek, the callouses on his fingers not feeling harsh in the slightest. “How I feel about you.”
You leaned into his touch. “I’m not a mind reader, you know,” you said with a small laugh. “And, you know,” you placed your hand over his, “you’re not exactly the most open book.”
He cracked a small grin. “No?”
You laughed. “No.”
He was still smiling as he dragged the pad of his thumb along your cheek. “Well, now you know.”
You nodded. “Now I know.”
He pulled you in close to him, tucking your head beneath his chin. You settled into him with ease, the way you had so many times before. He held you tight enough so that you could feel his heartbeat thudding against the side of your face.
He pressed a lazy kiss to the top of your head before saying, “Harkness ever puts a hand on you again though, I’m chopping the fuckin’ thing off.”
You laughed, patting his chest in a joking, reassuring manner. “Sure you are.”
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hihellogoodbyebruh · 7 months
Text
Give Me Back My Key
Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Plus Size!Reader Summary: Franklin crosses the line and you blow up at him. Now you have to hear some hard truths and decide whether or not you still want to be with him. Warnings: 18+, drug dealing, n-word usage, PIV, daddy kink, dirty talk, fingering, AAVE, possessive Franklin, bratty reader, referring to female genatalia as 'she', mentions of canonically dead characters as alive so this is kind of an AU but just go with it Word Count: 3,387 Author’s Note: My first finished piece of writing in like 3 years. A bitch is rusty but I’m just so happy to have something completed. I hope yall can find some enjoyment in it. I’m a Snowfall girlie now so hopefully there will be more coming after this. As always, questions, comments, and concerns are welcomed. Happy reading lovelies! xo
You entered your home after a long day at work, ready to soak in a bubble bath for an hour. Your boss had upped your hours, but did that come with a raise? Of course not. You hoped he would actually consider you for the new job opening in management but you weren’t holding your breath.
On the other hand, the extra hours were actually a God send. You had less time to sit at home missing your ex. Franklin Saint tore through your life like a tornado and left the wreckage of your heart behind.
You had no idea who he was when you first met. Your younger brother had dragged you along with him to Jammin Jerome’s to see if he had enough to upgrade his speaker system. Your brother had been geeking over the selection but his dream speakers were a bit outside of his price range.
The heartbroken look on your brother’s face was too much for you to handle and like always you tried to swoop in and save the day. Your mother worked so much to keep a roof over your heads as you grew up and your job was to look after your brother. You were basically another mother to him.
“Do yall have a layaway program or anything?” You asked, calculating in your mind how much you’d need to take out of your next check.
“No there ain’t no layaway. This ain’t no fucking charity.”
You squinted your eyes at the afro’d man and dug deep into your professional bag as not to cuss him out. “I understand. Is there anyway you can just hold them until Friday?”
The shorter man went to reply but he was cut off by Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sexy. “Yeah I can do that for you, but there’s a catch.”
You gave him a skeptical look. “What?”
He placed his hands on the counter and leaned a little closer towards you. “You gotta be the one to come back for them and you gotta let me take you out after.” He proposed, a smirk on his face.
Usually that might have pissed you off but there was something so charming about him. He immediately got your defenses down.
“Deal.”
His slick nature should have been a red flag but you were naive then. You couldn’t see past what was in front of you. A successful young Black man who was intelligent, passionate, and caring. He had goals and he knew who he was. You fell fast and you fell hard. He treated you like the most important person in his life.
After washing off the day’s sweat from your body, you put on your soft robe and proceeded to lotion up your body. A little self pampering after a hard day always helped to ease your racing brain and start to wind you down.
Franklin would love to get his hands on you and rub in your favorite scented lotion. He’d start at your feet and work his way up, taking extra time around your knees and then your thighs. He’d rub your belly and place kisses on your stretch marks. He never failed to make you feel so loved.
Months of dating flew by and even your families got along great. Your little brother looked up to Franklin as a man he’d like to emulate. He didn’t really have that before. Anytime you brought Franklin around, your brother was trying to get as much of his attention as you were. Franklin indulged him too. As annoying as it was, it warmed your heart to see the little bond they had.
By extension, you’d also noticed your brother getting closer to Leon as well. Since that first meeting, Leon was not one of your favorite people. You respected him as your man’s best friend but you saw him often on the street and you didn’t want your brother becoming interested in that.
Driving down the street a couple weeks ago, your worst nightmare was reality.
You almost got into a car accident the way you swerved your car across lanes when you saw Ryan doing a hand exchange with Leon.
You were haphazardly parked and out the car before your mind could catch up to what your adrenaline already set in motion.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” You yelled at Ryan, hands digging straight into his pockets and pulled out both money and rocks.
“Get off me, sis! What’s your problem?” He asked you, trying to grab his supplies back.
“What’s my problem?! You being fucking dumb is my problem. Get in the car!” You screamed, smacking him in the back of the head and pushing him towards the car.
“Consider him officially out.” You told Leon, tossing him the drugs and money.
You got in the car and drove straight to Franklin’s. Yeah you told Leon that Ryan is out, but you figured Franklin would talk to Leon for you so things actually stuck. They were best friends after all.
Ryan was clearly sulking as he followed you into the home. He stood against a wall with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.
Franklin greeted you with a kiss on the lips. “Hey baby. What’s wrong with your bro?”
You hugged him, resting your head on his chest. He ran his hand up and down your back to soothe you. “I caught him slinging on a random corner. I gave Leon his shit back and told him that Ryan was out, but do you think you can talk to him for me? I want to make sure he doesn’t try to hire him again.”
You didn’t catch on to the awkward silence until your brother scoffed.
You lifted your head from Franklin’s chest to look at your sibling. “What?” You snapped.
“You called me dumb and yet you think Leon hired me.” He chuckled, shaking his head.
“This isn’t a joke! I will fuck you up, Ry.” You started to pull away from your man’s embrace to put hands on your brother but Franklin stopped you.
“Leon didn’t put him on the corner. I did.” Franklin declared, and your body froze. You could swear you went into shock.
You took a huge step back and out of his arms. “Excuse me?”
“I put him with Leon because I trust him and he’ll make sure he’s straight. You know how Leon is.”
Your head was spinning but you were quickly connecting the dots. You knew he had something going on in his past. Like maybe he used to sell weed, but you’d only seen his legitimate businesses. Now you felt naive as fuck. The pieces are coming together in your mind like a puzzle you finally figured out how to solve. The way his Uncle and Aunt always seemed to defer to him…the way he carried himself….he was the Boss.
“Why would you…” You couldn’t even get it out. You shook your head to try and clear the roaring in your ears.
“He’s smart, he’s quick, and he’s loyal. You don’t have to worry. Plus, he really wanted a job.” Franklin explained like he was simply going over your brother’s job application.
“Then you get him a job at Jerome’s! YOU DONT PUT MY BROTHER ON THE STREET. ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?” You exploded, hands clenching.
It was the first time he’d seen you blow up and you expected a greater acknowledgement of your angry. Ryan seemed to be the only one in the room who knew you were not playing.
Franklin merely stared at you with what you thought was cool indifference. “You need to calm down.”
You scoffed, in disbelief of his arrogant answer. If niggas have anything, it’s audacity. “You go behind my back and make my baby brother one of your street niggas and I need to calm down? Fuck you, Franklin.”
He stood up straight, using his height to tower over you and show how unamused he was. “Oh you've been doing a lot of that. And you didn’t see a damn thing wrong with it either.”
You nodded. “You’re right. This is on me. I brought you into his life but I’m gonna rectify that immediately. We’re done.”
You hadn’t seen Franklin in a week and you missed him so much. You missed his voice, the way he held you in his arms, and the uncanny ability he had to always just know what you needed.
You needed him.
But you can’t budge on this. This was your brother’s life and Franklin betrayed you by going behind your back. Speaking of Ryan, he’d also been suspiciously absent lately. He had been walking on eggshells since you blew up and you felt bad, but if your mother found out she’d actually kill him so better he deals with your anger than hers.
You entered the kitchen to grab some water and screamed when you noticed the figure sitting at your little kitchenette. “AHH!”
Sitting very comfortably in one of your chairs, legs spread and one arm resting on the table where a glass of your brandy sat was Franklin. There was also a large beautiful bouquet of roses on the table.
“Hey baby.” He casually greets you, taking a sip from the glass.
He looked good as hell but you still glared at him.
“How the hell did you get in here? Better yet, why are you here?”
“I missed you. I know you missed me too. Are you done being mad?”
You clicked your tongue. “Nigga you got some nerve. Yes, I’m still mad.”
He sucked his teeth at me. “I’m not gonna apologize for putting your brother on, but I’ll apologize for not giving you a heads up.”
“That’s not good enough. That shit is dangerous. I want him to get a degree and get out of here.”
“So you don’t believe in building back up the community? Keeping money and businesses in Black hands? You don’t want to raise a family where you grew up anymore?”
Yes, you still believed in all those things. You even understood that your people had to cut some corners to get a leg up because they’d already been held back from so long. But the road to get to the future was scary. You were scared but anger is a way easier emotion to hold on to.
“Give me my key.” You snapped, holding out your hand.
He took your hand in his, rubbing your wrist with his thumb before placing a kiss on your palm. “No.”
“Franklin!” You whined, stomping your foot before you could stop yourself. Yes, you were lowkey about to throw a fit but he was so damn annoying.
“If you want me gone, change the locks.” He challenged, placing a kiss on each of your fingers.
That action caused you to realize he still held your hand so you snatched it away. “Fine. I will. What do you want?”
“You. I want you back. The bed is cold without those warm thighs for me to lay between.”
“And who’s fault is that?”
He rolled his eyes and stood up. He walked you backwards until you hit the kitchen counter. You looked off to the side, unable to hold his gaze. You were weak for him. He placed his hands on your cheeks and gripped your face, turning it so you were nose to nose with him and eyes locked.
“I’m only gonna say this shit once. Ryan wanted in the game. He wanted to be a corner boy. He wants to hustle.” You tried turning away from him but you couldn’t pry his hands off your face so you ended up just holding his wrists. “If I said no, he would have gone somewhere else. Is that what you want? Him down in the bottoms with crazy ass Skully or becoming apart of Manboy’s crew?”
Your eyes fluttered close at his words and you released a loud sigh. He was right. God forbid your brother went to work for Manboy. You knew you couldn’t change Ryan’s mind about something as much as you couldn’t change your mother’s. They were alike in that way. You always played the middle trying to keep the peace.
Franklin placed a kiss on your forehead as you processed his words. He knew you needed time to sort out new information and check in with yourself. He loved that about you. You could blow up but you could also be reasoned with.
“I know how much you love your brother and because I love you he’s family to me too. I’m treating him just like family. The game is the game. You think I wouldn’t do everything I could to protect him? To protect your heart? You think that little of me?”
His words had your eyes snapping back open. “No. I know you’re a good man, Frankie.” You rubbed his wrists, your face still in his hands.
“Then you forgive me?” He asked, eyes pulling you in. You would willingly drown in those dark pools.
You nodded and he placed a soft kiss on your lips. God, you missed him. You pressed harder against him and deepened the kiss. It had been too long. He kissed you like you were his last source of air as he explored your mouth with his tongue. His hands left your face to trail down your back and grip your robe covered ass.
He sucked on your tongue before biting your lip. He gripped your thighs and hoisted you up, holding you against the countertop and grinding his hard dick against you. You yelped and wrapped your arms and legs around him.
“Oh my God! Put me down, Franklin.” You gasped as he placed open mouthed kisses on your neck. Your robe had fallen open and he was able to suck on your collarbone which made your head drop back.
He turned to place you on the table. Your ass bumped his glass and it, along with the bouquet, fell onto the floor. “Franklin!” You scolded, only to bite your lip when he lightly grabbed your neck.
“I let you get away with it before but that shits over now. What’s my name?” He asked, his thumb pressing right into the center of your neck.
Your pussy was dripping wet. “Baby, please.”
He squeezed a bit more before letting his hand slide down the opening in your robe. “Close but don’t worry sweetheart. I’ll remind you.” His free hand pulled on the sash and completely opened up your robe.
“Fuck, I missed you.” He groaned, eyes moving from your tits down your stomach to between your legs as you spread them further apart.
Your hands were exploring under his shirt, refamiliarizing yourself with the planes of his body. You slipped his shirt over his head and he bent his head to kiss your nipples.
“Mmm.” You moaned, head falling back as he took a nipple into his mouth. You could feel your pussy dripping wet. As he sucked on your titties, one of his hands reached between your legs and teased your folds. His fingers traced up and down your lips and your hips moved to press him harder against you.
“Look at how wet and eager you are. I know this pussy missed me. Didn’t she?” He asked, pulling away from your titties leaving them wet with his saliva.
“Yes, yes she missed you.” You gasped, desperate for more.
His middle finger slid up and down your slit before finally slipping into your pussy. You groaned at the feeling and he slipped another finger inside of you stroking your walls. His eyes remained on your face as he watched the love faces you made. He pressed his fingers deeper inside you and rubbed his palm against your swollen clit.
“Yes, yes, please….” You moaned, hands clutching the edge of the table. He was stroking you so good, but you needed more.
“Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”
“I need…ooh…I need your dick in this pussy.” You licked your lips as you reached out to unbutton his pants. You could see the print of his hard dick and you needed it in you now.
“After this tantrum of yours, beg for it.” He could feel your walls contracting around his fingers and knew you were about to cum. He wasn’t about to have that so he pulled his fingers out.
“Nooo…” You whined, scooting closer to the edge of the table to rub against him and get some more friction going. He held your legs open and leaned back just out of your reach.
“What did I say?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Please, Daddy. I’m sorry. Give me the dick. I need the dick.” You begged, voice just the right pitch of needy and desperate that he wanted to hear.
He pulled his hard, long, and thick dick out and stroked it as he stared at you. You bit your lip and gave him your most contrite look. He smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you softly on your lips.
You got so lost in his kiss. The way he moved from harsh to sweet was making your head spin. You just wanted anything and everything he was giving you. During the kiss, you gasped loudly into his mouth feeling his slide into your tight pussy.
“Shit..” He hissed, hips jacking forward to situate himself deep into your pussy. He was knocking up against your G spot and you were almost dizzy. After all that foreplay, you knew you wouldn’t last long. You were already squeezing his dick.
“I can feel that pussy finna cum. Let her rain on me, baby. I wanna feel it.” He told you, continuing to give you long deep strokes.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You breathlessly moaned, head thrown back. “I’m bout to-” You don’t even finish your sentence as your orgasm eclipses your whole body.
“Just like that.” Franklin moaned, watching you as the pleasure blankets you. He loved watching you. You were so damn sexy. He never stopped stroking as your walls clamped down on him.
Your chest was heaving and you were feeling a bit tired. You felt Franklin speeding up his thrusts, his hips slamming against your ass. You were feeling a bit sensitive. “Ooh, wait Daddy…”
“Nah, ain’t no wait. This is part of your punishment. Let me look at that pussy.” He declared, bringing your legs up and smashing your knees into your chest. “Damn, look at her glistening for Daddy.”
“Mmnf!” You groaned, feeling the table shake under you at his hard thrusts. Your eyes closed as your body was completely worked over by him. He was fucking your soul.
You heard his moans and growls increasing frequency as his hips sped up. You could feel him everywhere. He was staking his claim on you. With a final deep thrust, you felt his cum release inside of you. You were on birth control but he was so damn far inside you felt like he was personally delivering his seeds to your ovaries. You’d have time to worry about that later.
He placed kisses along your thick legs as he slowly brought them back down to wrap around his waist. He’s still inside you and you haven’t moved at all. You couldn’t. You were wore the hell out.
You felt his eyes on you as he soothingly rubbed his hands up your thighs over your belly between your breasts and over your shoulders. He massaged you as he waited for you to regain yourself.
Your eyes opened and connected with his. You gave him your prettiest smile. “I love you.”
He smiled that rare grin of his. “I love you too.” He leaned in to kiss your lips and you closed your eyes leaning up to meet his lips only to be met with air.
Your eyes opened to see him staring down at you. “Don’t ever pull no shit like this again.” He sternly ordered.
You brought your hands up to rub his hair and cup the back of his head. “I won’t baby. I’m sorry.”
You were ready to accept Franklin for everything he is. He was your man and you were gonna stick beside him no matter what.
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f1byjessie · 7 months
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A PICTURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND WORDS ━━ LN4.
sometimes the right words are hard to come across, and sometimes everything you need to say can be captured in an image.
( lando norris x photographer!reader )
━━ part six.
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yourusername manchester nights
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user AIN’T NO WAY HE FINALLY POSTED HER
user girlies i hate to say it, but maybe this one’s actually serious… 🫢
↳ user i refuse to believe it…
↳ user he’s literally never posted another girl before tho??
user king of aesthetics
user i can’t believe he’s actually dating her
user what does he actually see in her?? like gen what is it cuz i cannot see it from here 😒😒😒
user she’s just using you for your clout garrett DON’T FALL FOR IT 😫 SHE’S NOT THE ONE THERE ARE BETTER FISH IN THE SEA
↳ user she’s fr just using him for the money and fame it’s so sad
↳ user right?? like he’s posting her which means he’s probably serious but i doubt she is and it’s just gonna hurt him in the end 😔
↳ user this is why i hate when celebs or athletes get with ppl who aren’t in the same sphere as them, cuz like if she were another celeb then we would know she has money or if she were actually a football fan then we would know she’s invested in helping him get better but she’s neither 🤷‍♀️
↳ user it hurts to see such an innocent man get used
user wait she’s actually kind of pretty tho 👀👀
↳ user she lowkey is
user can’t wait to see you back on the field soon garrett!!
user mad style bro
user came over from y/n’s account to say that you fans are exhibiting behaviour that is genuinely so immature and disrespectful. it’s sickening. you claim to support this athlete but you don’t support his decision to enter an exclusive relationship with someone? you say it’s bc she doesn’t know football or that she’s controlling or that she’ll ruin his career, but you know nothing about her and i’d bet you all would say the same thing about anyone. she could be a professional footballer herself and you would still say she isn’t fit to be with him. get over yourselves and bffr. none of you had a chance with him to begin with, and you hating on an innocent girl so much that she had to turn her comments off so she wouldn’t keep getting death threats is actually crazy. you all are delusional.
↳ user THIS. i’m so tired of the hatred
↳ user i’m honestly surprised garrett hasn’t said anything to his fans about them leaving her alone yet…
↳ user he probably thought GROWN ADULTS would know it’s inappropriate to act like BABIES but i digress 🙄
↳ user whether he thought they were mature enough or not, the fact that he probably knew it was happening (she’s his gf, there’s no way she didn’t tell him or he didn’t see the comments himself before she turned them off) and still hasn’t said anything is a major red flag imo. he’s posted her/acknowledged that she exists on his acc now, but he STILL hasn’t addressed the hatred his “fans” have been sending her and continue to direct towards her in the comments of his own post.
↳ user i think it’s a out of sight out of mind type situation tbh. if neither of them acknowledge them, then the haters aren’t given the attention they want. they might just be waiting for it to die down.
↳ user i don’t think that’s a good enough reason tho?? if i was a celeb and my significant other was being harassed by jealous and delusional fans, i would absolutely say smth and try to get them to stop, partly bc my s/o doesn’t deserve to be spoken about like that just bc they’re in a relationship with me and partly bc i personally wouldn’t want to see that type of negativity directed towards the person i care about. it’s a matter of respect for your partner.
“I’ll be honest with you, Garrett━ I don’t like you very much.”
The restaurant table you’re both sitting at is tucked away in a corner and gives you enough privacy to feel comfortable having this conversation with Garrett out in public. The restaurant itself is exclusive in its own right, similarly to the first place Garrett took you. It’s not as high class in the sense that you feel underdressed with business casual, but it’s the type of locale that other celebrities or higher class individuals tend to frequent and it makes you feel secure in the fact that the staff are trained to be discreet about anything they might overhear.
“But,” you shrug, “I don’t think you need me to tell you that.”
Garrett takes a slow sip from his coffee and raises an eyebrow at you over the rim of his cup. While he does so, you appraise him. The only other time you’ve seen him in something other than his training attire or some equally comfortable athletic-adjacent wear was the first night you both went out, and you hadn’t really been paying much attention to him then━ too focused on trying not to scream your head off in frustration.
He looks good though, which you’re loath to admit. Garrett, at the very least, has fashion sense if nothing else. If he were even half decent his style might’ve been enough to make up for the rest of the decency he’s missing, but as it stands he’s so far below the bar that his ability to dress nice only serves to get him within jumping distance of your lowest standards.
He lowers his cup back down the table with a faint clink, and then steeples his fingers together on the table.
“Quite frankly, Y/N━” the way your name sounds on his lips makes you shiver, but not at all in the way it’s described in the romance novels you used to read back in school. It’s like the human equivalent of your hackles rising, sensing danger, knowing you need to make yourself bigger to appear like more of a threat, “━I don’t really care what you think of me. This is more of a business transaction than an actual relationship. You don’t need to like me, you just need to pretend you do.”
He ends it with what would be a charming smile on anyone else, but knowing who he is beneath his charismatic facade makes it look sleazy.
You scoff. “For a guy who’s so desperate to fix his reputation, you sure aren’t doing anything to actually try and fix who you are as a person.”
It’s his turn to scoff. “I don’t actually need to be a better person, I just need everyone to think I’m a better person.”
“Fair enough.” You can’t argue with that. “But if I’m going to be spending a prolonged amount of time with you, you’re gonna have to at least pretend to not be a total dick.” You take a sip of your coffee.
He watches you for a moment━ observes your face, your hands, the way you tap your fingers against the table once your cup has been lowered. And you watch him right back. His steepled fingers have intertwined together, and he’s resting his chin atop them in a show of nonchalance, but his eyebrows are furrowed tight and his shoulders are pulled tense.
“What do you even want out of this?” He finally asks after another few seconds of silence broken only by the quiet drone of other restaurant patrons in the background. “What’s so important to you that it matters more than whatever notoriety being with me could give you?”
The Manchester skyline outside the window draws your gaze as you ponder how to go about explaining your answer. The storm-darkened sky casts the city streets below in a heavy shadow, which mimics your own mood as of late. It’s the weekend now, but Lando’s call and the things he’d drunkenly said still looms over you. You’d spent the week in a bad mood that not even your newfound friendship with Jack was capable of easing, and each day with continued radio silence on Lando’s end━ the fact that he can’t even bother to apologize himself━ only sours things more and more.
It had soured even more when McLaren’s PR team manager had reached out to you with the knowledge that you could plan on being back at the Technology Centre in Woking by the end of the month, in just under two weeks. In and of itself this hadn’t been bad news, but it meant seeing Lando again and unless he reaches out first to extend an olive branch, you could almost guarantee you’d be in for an uncomfortably awkward reunion.
But none of that matters right now.
“I’ll admit, I’m taking a page out of your book and being a prick,” you say as you turn back to Garrett. “But, in my case, it’s entirely warranted because he was a prick first.”
“What’d this guy do?”
In an odd turn of events, it feels as though you’re gossiping with Garrett Ward of all people. Without the context of your relationship with him━ the real one, not the one you’re pretending to have━ you imagine you probably look like two friends talking shit, or pretty close to the couple you’re supposed to be. Despite being such a twat normally, Garrett really does just come across as being a normal guy.
You have to remind yourself just what he threatened to do. He’s not a normal guy━ he’s dangerous. But he’s also a crucial part of your plan, and there was certainly some truth when he’d called things between you a business transaction. You don’t have to like him, but you have to trust that he’s got his own best interest in mind and you can certainly capitalize off of that.
“He had some choice words about our ‘relationship,’” you start, fiddling with the handle of your cup. “And even though we aren’t actually together and I probably wouldn’t touch you even if we were the last two people on Earth, it’s the principle behind it all. He has no right to judge me so harshly for my relationship choices, so I’m going to flaunt that I don’t care what he thinks, he’s not my keeper, and I will date whoever I damn well please,” you finish with a huff.
Garrett blinks at you. You’re starting to think he just has a staring problem, but before you can call him out on it he rolls his eyes, crosses his arms, and leans back in his seat━ looking the part of the smug douche he actually is. “You like this guy, and you want to use me to make him jealous because you’re pissed that he hasn’t given any hint at being interested in you but still feels as though as if he can be possessive over you.”
You blink at him. “No. Absolutely not.”
He raises an infuriating eyebrow.
“Fuck you,” you mutter into your cup, taking a sip to avoid having to say anything more.
Garrett heaves a sigh. “I suppose I could help you with that. We’ll be doing the couple shit anyways, might as well kill two birds with one stone and solve your problem and mine.” The way he says it makes it seem as though he’s doing you a favor, and if you weren’t so sure that he’d rescind his willingness to help if you argued with him, you’d call him out on the fact that technically he’s the one who owes you after you agreed to help him with his dilemma in the first place.
“Why not just be honest with him?” He says after another moment.
You snap your eyes back to him. “What?”
“Why not just be honest?” He repeats with a shrug. “Aren’t you worried he’ll lose eventually lose interest if he thinks you’re off the market?”
You scoff, “I’m not off the market. I’m just not available to the public.” You’d sat awake at night not long after things with Garrett began and realized that it really was all just an act. Actors kiss in front of a camera all the time, but at the end of the day they go home to their real partners and that’s the only person that really matters. Things aren’t all that different between you and Garrett. You call yourselves a couple, but side from the agreement that you’ll act like one in public, there’s no obligation or commitment to put one another first. Garrett will always prioritize his career, reputation, and friendships over you, and you’re rather inclined to do the same.
He purses his lips.
“Oh please,” you roll your eyes. “As if you expect me to believe you aren’t still planning to pick up a few birdies at the pub and show them a fun time.”
“My situation is different than yours. I’m the one trying to convince the media I’ve changed, which means I need someone who can be discreet, and a birdie from the pub certainly isn’t that.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Not getting laid for a few months is just a sacrifice I have to make to keep my place at Man City.”
You don’t mention that no matter what he does to try and clean up his act, Manchester City won’t be keeping him around after his contract expires. He wouldn’t believe you anyway, but even if he did you doubt he’d be all that willing to continue with this facade.
“More fun for me then,” you say instead, returning the smug smirk he’d given you earlier.
He glares.
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footballfansofficial UPDATE: Manchester City Forward Garrett Ward once again seen out in public with girlfriend and Formula One photographer Y/N L/N! The couple were caught sharing a romantic evening for the first time on the 5th of January, and have once again been spotted Saturday, the 20th, following Ward and L/N’s public posts on social media platform, Instagram. Ward has reportedly been making progress with his injury recovery, and is speculated to be rejoining the team on the pitch in February if all continues to go well. As the 2024 Formula One season draws nearer, it’s also expected that L/N will be returning to her McLaren roots, after working with Manchester City to photograph their winter training, which leaves fans wondering how their relationship will fare. Check the link in our bio for the full article!
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user i’m starting to warm up to the idea of them as a couple… 👀👀👀
user I WAS SO CONVINCED SHE WAS WITH LANDO NORRIS??? WERE THEY NOT EVER TOGETHER??? 🤯
↳ user i don’t think they were which is super shocking bc she posts him all the time on insta
↳ user i mean?? that’s technically her job?? as a photographer for mclaren she takes and posts pictures of the mclaren drivers. if you scroll across her feed she also has a lot of oscar from 2023, and carlos and daniel from their years with the team. she’s been working with manchester city recently too and has been posting the players as well. it’s just that she’s worked with lando the longest consecutively so ofc her account is gonna have him posted more than the others
↳ user LET ME BE DELUSIONAL I ACTUALLY THOUGHT THEY WERE SO CUTE 😭😭
user i really wish garrett would actually focus on his career instead of dating women bro’s contract ends at the end of the season and he doesn’t even seem bothered
user MAN CITY RE-SIGN GARRETT WARD 2024 🩵🩵🩵
user i hope the long distance makes them break up
↳ user me toooooo that bitch needs to get away from my man
↳ user he’s too good for her
↳ user be so fucking fr, she’s never had a scandal in her entire career but garrett ward has had dozens in just the past few years. if anyone is too good, it’s her 🙄
user MCLAREN WCC 2024 🧡🏁 AND MAN CITY TREBLE WINNERS 2024 🩵⚽️
user don’t hate me but i totally thought garrett ward was gay
↳ user ah, yes, most notorious casanova, known for his many nightly escapades with women, that’s 100% proof that he’s gay
↳ user idk that was just the vibe i got
↳ user be so fucking fr 💀💀
user will city even want to re-sign him after the season is up?? he’s been on loan for the majority of his contract anyway, playing in the championship of all things, and now he’s back but he’s missed a majority of the season cuz of an injury. i personally don’t think garrett ward stands a chance against the current starting forwards, so even when he’s recovered who’s to say he’ll play in any matches?? just seems like a waste for city to keep him around if he isn’t even being used
user if ward is actually cleaning up his act then good for him
↳ user real. all these ppl acting like she's suddenly changing him into a whole new person against his will, but none of them have stopped to think that maybe he WANTS to change.
━━ tags: @maih23 @urfavnoirette @leclercsluv @f1luvur @formulaal @a-disturbing-self-reflection @starlightpierre @chezmardybum @marshmummy @405rry @sideboobrry11 @d3kstar @mcmuppet @happylittlereader @casperlikej @5starl1ght @bellezaycafe @whentheautumnleavesfall @mess-is-my-aesthetic @ssprayberrythings @landosgirlxoxo @lifelessfan @81ja
━━ a/n: i did it! got this part done so much faster AND i didn't wanna rage while i did it 😌 feeling pretty proud of myself for that. anyways! hope you all enjoy!
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ohthewh0rror · 11 months
Text
TOM RIDDLE : DATING HEADCANONS
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A/N: Pls keep in mind this man is not mentally sound, so he is going to be toxic in some way. But, if you’re like me, you love a walking red flag, so let’s go. 😗
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King of gaslighting, especially when it comes to shifting blame and countering/denial.
Doesn’t like owning up to anything he may have done to hurt your feelings. I don’t think you’ll ever get a genuine apology out of this man unless he’s done/said something that could end the relationship.
Not interested in you at first. Your looks meant nothing to him, he only became attracted to you after getting to know you.
Not experienced. At all. Despite being very handsome and charismatic, he has no interest in simple hookups. You’d be his first and last lover.
Very possessive. Not the typical jealous type either, he won’t physically fight anyone over you, but will try to isolate you from anyone who could take your attention away from him.
For lifers. You two ain’t breaking up. Go ahead and get that thought out your mind. Better yet, he’ll remove it for you.
Wont spend every waking moment with you, as he has other (not very good things) to do. But, he will make time for you.
Controversial: does not include you in what he’s doing. You’ll know he’s up to something, but until it’s at the point where he can’t hide it anymore, he’s not involving you. He sees it as his way of protecting you.
Not into PDA, and isn’t overly affectionate, but he’s not completely closed off either.
His affection is a little more subtle. Holding hands under the table, a hand on your lower back, brushing your hair off your shoulder, a quick peck on the corner of your lips, etc.
Not a hugger, his hugs are awkward, he won’t stop you if you come in for one though.
Does use pet names/nicknames for you, and they’re not always degrading.
In the bedroom he might call you out your name, but outside the bedroom he either calls you ‘sweatheart’, ‘darling’, or just a shortened version of your name. (He’s called Bellatrix, Bella, so I will hear no criticism on this one.)
Doesn’t have a high sex drive, can go a week or two without it. Knows you have needs though, and won’t protest if you buy stuff to get yourself off in the meantime.
Likes to be called ‘sir’ or ‘master’ in the bedroom.
Hair puller, ass slapper, calls you ‘slut’ kind of kinky. So not into anything crazy, but not completely vanilla either.
Not the king of aftercare by any means, but won’t leave you to completely fend for yourself either. Typically only brings you what you need to cleanup.
Doesn’t exactly cuddle? this is honestly the closest you’re getting to cuddling with him.
Doesn’t like talking about his feelings, and will never completely open up to you. Will listen to your problems though! Even if he doesn’t particularly care.
Do not complain to him unless you want him to just give you “solutions”. If you expect him to just listen to you complain and not give any advice, please save your breath. Doesn’t understand that some people just need to talk about their day to feel better and don’t want unsolicited advice about what to fix.
Father/Marriage Bonus:
Will marry you. Like an actual wedding band/ring, you in a pretty white dress/outfit, and a first dance type of wedding. Granted no one else will be there, just the two of you. But it’s special, a very intimate day.
Does he want kids? No. If you do get pregnant on accident will he be happy? Hell no. But, it’s not the end of the marriage. If you want to keep the baby he won’t protest, but is straightforward in telling you that he is taking a backseat in raising the child if you choose to keep it.
He’s a boy dad. Stays true to his word and you do pretty much all the child raising, only holds/takes care of the child if you ask him to.
Is low-key happy once the child goes away to Hogwarts. Would never tell you that though.
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