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lxclerc · 5 months

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𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐨𝐭 — 𝐚𝐚𝟐𝟑

summary… the leclerc twins have a reputation of messing with drivers and they’ve got their eyes set on poor alex albon request… yes. pls let me sleep laura faceclaim… char argyrou pairing… alex albon x leclerc!reader

note… because laura graduated and got her driver’s license, i caved @coffeehurricanes

note again… this was surprisingly really fun to write as someone with my own annoying twin brother so it ended up longer than i meant it to which means this will have a part 2

part 1 | part 2

masterlist

yn_leclerc

liked by lorenzotl and others

yn_leclerc serving cunt (as always) (with my 3 fav minions)

view all comments…

username yn casually and unknowingly dropping alex thirst traps

⤷ username she knows she’s feeding the alex girlies

charles_leclerc charles erasure

⤷ yn_leclerc you know youre my most fav (you have the most money)

⤷ charles_leclerc gee thanks

alex_albon i thought you’d put slime on my hair

⤷ yn_leclerc i told you i wouldn’t. i was trying to style your hair 🙄🙄🙄

⤷ alex_albon i have 0 trust in you

⤷ username alex is waiting for that mega prank like the rest of us are

⤷ username i’m fully convinced they’d make alex cry worse than lando

⤷ landonorris it was one time and they ruined my limited edition louis vuitton

⤷ yn_leclerc *accidentally*

⤷ charles_leclerc that i paid for

arthur_leclerc hanging out without me now

⤷ yn_leclerc you were too busy crying abt having no seat for next season 🤗

⤷ username one thing about yn is that she’ll always give her brothers the painful unfiltered truth

username ok but not enough people are talking abt shirtless alex

⤷ username no bc picture me this; shirtless alex, they’re alone and she’s fixing his hair

⤷ username …that does sound oddly intimate

⤷ username yall are tripping. she and arthur did the same thing to oscar and max remember, became super close with them then pranked them when they least expected it

⤷ username yes but also it’s been literal months with alex

⤷ username that just means that the prank will be spectacular

arthur_leclerc

liked by alex_albon and others

arthur_leclerc we are in badly need of your prayers for my twin sister, y/n 😓😞🙏

she’s fine. she’s just so insanely down bad for a man that she can’t say it to his face and needs me to follow them around so she can hang out with him bc she can’t look him in the eye.

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leclerc_pascale ay, arthur! J'ai eu peur pour ta sœur ! (you had me scared for your sister!)

⤷ arthur_leclerc Tu devrais avoir peur, maman ! Elle pleure cet homme tous les soirs et il ne sait même pas qu'elle l'aime. (you should be scared, mom! she cries over this man every night and he doesn’t even know she likes him)

⤷ yn_leclerc Taisez-vous ! !! fermez votre bouche ! arrêtez de parler ! (shut up!!! keep your mouth shut! stop talking!)

yn_leclerc you’re dead to me 🙂

yn_leclerc 🖕🖕🖕

yn_leclerc j'aurais dû te manger dans le ventre de ta mère (i should have eaten you in the womb)

yn_leclerc you no longer have a sister

⤷ arthur_leclerc Comment faire autrement pour flirter avec **** ? (how else will you flirt with ****?)

⤷ yn_leclerc TAISEZ-VOUS !!! (SHUT UP!!!)

charles_leclerc a man, huh?

⤷ lorenzotl 🤔🤔🤔🤔

⤷ yn_leclerc no ❤️

⤷ username she gives no fucks 😭

username what are brothers for if not to publicly humiliate you?

username she’s so me coded actually

alex_albon prayers 🙏

⤷ arthur_leclerc thanks, mate. we appreciate it

alexandrasaintmleux and if i speak

⤷ yn_leclerc alexandra malena saint mleux don’t you dare

⤷ charles_leclerc you know too???

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux 🤐🤐🤐

username she’s like me bless

username for a M*N??

alex_albon

liked by yn_leclerc and others

alex_albon was just trying to buy midnight snacks and then we got lost

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yn_leclerc we didn’t get lost bc i had a map 😁

⤷ alex_albon that you didn’t know how to use

⤷ yn_leclerc you weren’t exactly offering your map reading knowledge either, albono

⤷ alex_albon watching you struggle was adorable

⤷ username HE CALLED HER ADORABLE

⤷ username idc what anyone says, i am an ynalex truther

arthur_leclerc i was there too, guys

⤷ yn_leclerc you complained the entire time

⤷ arthur_leclerc because you woke me up to accompany you guys

charles_leclerc why is there a puddle on the floor?

⤷ yn_leclerc alex dropped one of the ten liters big water bottle

⤷ alex_albon lies. y/n dropped it and i had to say i did because she looked like she’s about to start crying.

⤷ charles_leclerc yeah, that sounds like my sister

username alex, don’t trust them or else they’ll make you cry like they did lando

⤷ username we’re looking out for you 😭

georgerussell63 mate, don’t be getting comfortable with those two

⤷ yn_leclerc slander

⤷ arthur_leclerc fake

⤷ georgerussell63 you put a rat in my cereal

⤷ arthur_leclerc *plastic* rat

⤷ georgerussell63 i dropped and cracked my phone

⤷ yn_leclerc sounds like you were being clumsy 💁‍♀️

username george is forever traumatised by that rat

username hear me out 👀

yn_leclerc

liked by alex_albon and others

yn_leclerc thirst trapping bc posting on my close friend that only has him in it isn’t enough apparently

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username she is so me!!!

username doesn’t matter how famous or pretty you are, you’ll always have an instagram close friends with only him in it

logansargeant i saw your close friends story on ****’s phone a few days ago 🤔🤔

⤷ yn_leclerc why were you looking over his phone you muppet?

⤷ logansargeant i just happened to glance by

⤷ username it’s alex. i’m fucking telling you all. ITS ALEX

⤷ username there’s literally no way it’s not alex

⤷ username it could be oscar

⤷ username bitch since when was o s c a r four letters?

⤷ username jack is four letters. they could be trying to throw us off

⤷ username JUST ACCEPT THAT ITS ALEX

charles_leclerc put a shirt on

⤷ yn_leclerc no ❤️

⤷ charles_leclerc 😡😡😡

⤷ username she’s always so unserious when it comes to charles lmao

arthur_leclerc abt to bleach my eyes brb

⤷ lorenzotl pass it over after

⤷ charles_leclerc pass it here too

⤷ yn_leclerc i could build a castle out of all the bricks they throw at me 💁‍♀️

username those leclerc genes are leclercing

username girl get the hell up 😭😭

charles_leclerc added to his story!

yn_leclerc

liked by alex_albon and others

yn_leclerc in the 1500s off in a foreign land, i was forced to marry another man (he can’t take the hint that i’ve been in love with him for years now)

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username whoever he is, please just ask her out already 😭

username girl, i’ve said this before but for the love of god get the hell up!!! you are better than this!

⤷ yn_leclerc i fear i’m not, bff 😔

⤷ username man down 😓

logansargeant i’m telling you rn that he’s as in love with you!

⤷ yn_leclerc did he tell you that 🤨

⤷ logansargeant no but he wouldn’t have put up with for this long if he doesn’t

⤷ yn_leclerc he’s put up with you for an entire year

⤷ logansargeant yes but he’s paid to put up with me

⤷ username this is all the confirmation that i need. it’s alex

username take the goddamn hint already @alex_albon

charles_leclerc WHO IS IT

⤷ lorenzotl it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?

⤷ charles_leclerc okay but whoooooo

⤷ username charles is worse than alex 😭

arthur_leclerc this is getting pathetic. @alex_albon it’s you mate. she likes you, you like her. kiss it out 🙄

⤷ yn_leclerc ARTHURRRRRRRRR

⤷ username arthur 😭😭😭😭😭😭

⤷ charles_leclerc WHAT?

username arthur starting chaos bc hes so tired of listening to y/n mope 😭

username arthur revealing y/n’s crush and publicly embarrassing her (again), charles being shocked not having a single clue and lorenzo not caring as much is peak brother behaviors in ways i cannot explain

username i fucking told yall its alex

landonorris mate dont leave a lady waiting @alex_albon

⤷ oscarpiastri yeahhh

⤷ yn_leclerc both of you shut the hell up before i replace your shampoo with nair

⤷ landonorris how would you even have access to my shampoo-

⤷ oscarpiastri don’t ask mate. she’s done it before to dennis in f3

username paging @alex_albon

username @alex_albon dont fucking fumble a bad bitch like her come on now

alex_albon oh?

⤷ yn_leclerc public announcement that y/n y/m/n leclerc has died in a ditch and cannot be contacted at this hour. or ever.

⤷ alex_albon i know where you live

⤷ yn_leclerc locking the doors and putting salt around the property as we speak

happy birthday and congratulations to my most loved laura. i love and adore you and i can’t wait to watch you be the woman that you’re always been capable of.

#formula 1 #f1 #alex albon #arthur leclerc #charles leclerc #alex albon x reader #formula 1 smau #alex albon fluff

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everythingne · 5 months

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christmas in monaco - cl16

You are Charles Leclerc’s best kept secret. Twin of his best friend, a racing prodigy, and his secret girlfriend of two years. The first six months had been secret, just to make sure you’d actually survive a relationship, but then Max said something to Charles that made the idea of ever telling him impossible. So you end up here, half in your brothers apartment half in your soon to be fiancés, trying to celebrate two Christmases in one day.

verstappen!reader x charles leclerc, secret dating/brothers best friend

warnings/notes: cursing, jos is there for a bit in the beginning, poorly translated dutch and french, danny is in red bull bc i said so

next chapter..

Warm. That was the best way you could explain the way the bed felt as hot breaths fanned across your chest from the head tucked against your neck. One arm draped across your waist, pulling you closer as you stir and reach up to turn off your phone's alarm. The second arm sleepily comes to wrap around your chest, dragging you back into the warmth of your two year secret.

"No," Charles sighs, eyes still closed as kisses are peppered along your neck and jaw, "Don't go..."

"I have to, Char." You murmur, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you sit up and look at your still very sleepy boyfriend who blinks wearily at you and the sun that halos you, "We don't need Max getting suspicious as to why I'm never home."

"I wish we could tell him." Charles sits up next to you, a hand coming up to fix some loose hairs that were sticking up at odd angles against your head. You didn't answer, just humming. A year and a half ago, during the summer break, you and Charles planned on telling Max. He and Charles got along like a house on fire, there was really no reason you wouldn't have been able to tell your brother about your little blooming relationship.

And then Max had said something to you and Charles, moments before you had planned to tell him, about how you were strictly forbidden from dating any Formula racers. For no specific reason. You had played it off like a joke that night, but once you'd returned to Charles apartment a few nights later you realized just how much your brothers words had affected the both of you.

So, you agreed that night it was (questionably) better to keep it secret.

But Charles and Max knew each other like the backs of their hands. They had been destined from the start to be together, even back in the days of them literally hating each other on the track. You had tagged along with your brother, never driving because of your fathers beliefs, before moving away to live with your mother around the age of fifteen. You and Charles had only reconnected when he debuted in F1, and instantly clicked, even before he and Max did.

Somehow through the busyness of your brothers seasons, he had been distracted long enough for him to not catch on. It was even better when you had moved in with him in Monaco and established a good, core friend group you used as your excuse most times. All of them knew if Max called and asked, to say you guys were together last night since you told them every time you went to go see Charles. It felt foolproof.

“You really have to go?” Charles whines, sitting up finally and stretching his shoulder out, “You can’t stay for breakfast or anything?”

Humming out a maybe as you check the time, you roll to your side and then curse, giving Charles a quick peck on the lips before shoving him off of you and down onto the bed. He crashes amongst the blankets and such tangled together from the way you both toss and turn, nearly whacking his head on the headboard as you scamper to your feet and the cool breeze through the window makes goosebumps run along your skin. Leaning down, you grab your jean shorts off the floor and a hoodie you think is one of Charles' old ones you'd been wearing around.

“Ow?!” his voice echoes behind you and you throw a sorry over your shoulder, scrambling to find your bag and other items in his apartment. Half of your life was here, so you were able to find a spare pair of your socks in his drawer.

Getting to his feet, Charles grabs his shirt from the floor and tugs it over his head as he asks, “What is happening?"

“My dad is visiting today and I forgot I had to leave early!" You curse, jumping to slip on one of your sneakers and bending to fix the parts of the shoe that fold under your heel, "Fuck fuck fuck—!”

"Jos?" He inquires, pausing mid movement to scrunch his face at you. As far as Charles was aware, you and Max had some sort of huge blow up fight with your father and now you both no longer spoke to him.

"No, Charlie, my secret second father." You deadpan, turning around as you toss your bag over one shoulder, "Yes, Jos! Who else?!"

"Sorry!" He apologizes and comes besides you to give you a kiss to your hairline as he wipes a bit of fallen makeup off your cheek, "I thought he wasn't visiting this year?"

You know he means to say, I thought you and Max emancipated from him.

"I thought the same." You huff as you step back from his grasp to find your car keys on the bedside table.

He knows you mean to say, Max can't say no to him. It's a problem.

Charles just hums in response, and when you throw your purse over his shoulder and capture his lips in a quick goodbye kiss before rushing out of his apartment, a small smile peeks across his lips. Soles squeaking in the dew covered grass, you make your way to your parked car. Searching the streets as you walk and dipping between two cars when a guy who slightly looks like he could be Max passes, and then you continue down the road.

Monaco was small. It was a little country, beautiful and bursting at the seams with life, but still so small. So, seeing Max, especially if you were out and about, was likely. Every precaution was taken, and luckily your best friend Jolie lived in the apartment building next to Charles', so you could just park your car there to not raise suspicions.

Getting in your car you slam the door, cursing when you see the missed calls and messages from Max.

And... Daniel?

"I'm back!" You shout, shutting the front door and taking off your shoes and setting them on the shoe rack as you walk in. There's a tense feeling in the apartment and you set your backpack on the ground as Jos smiles.

"Ah, Y/n, how are you?" He says and you cross the room to give your father a quick hug.

"Fine fine, I slept in on accident, otherwise I would've gone with Max to get you at the airport." You sit on the couch next to Max, who's jaw is locked tighter than you've seen it before. The two of you share a look of 'why is this guy here' before your father waves off your words.

"It's fine, how's the degree going?"

"Good good, I'm working on finishing up my degree in Sports Management right now. Charles has been trying to set me up with an internship for Ferrari since Red Bull filled their internships for the season already." You cross one leg over the other and your father nods. Luckily your able to hold civil conversation with him until he takes a rideshare back to the airport. You and Max groan, flopping down on the couches as soon as he's gone and you bury your head in your hands. A typical Verstappen household afternoon.

It's fucking hot in Abu Dhabi. Though not as bad as Qatar, you're still sweating through your thin sundress. Wandering into Red Bull's paddock you're greeted by your brother, and then quite literally--and not anyway discreetly, escorted to the drivers room by none other than Daniel Ricciardo who claims he has a sports management question for you.

You know it's not about sports management when he locks the door to the drivers room and turns to you with eyes wide, mouth open in some sort of half grin half shocked expression.

"Charles fucking Leclerc?!" He hisses when you make a vague motion for him to explain and a groan leaves your throat involuntarily. You had been so safe for two years and of course it's Daniel of all people who figures it out. The only other guy who your brother trusts with his life.

"Danny you can't say anything, also why were you even in Monaco?" You snap back, poking Daniel in his throat right above his Red Bull logo on the collar of the fireproofs, your nail digging into the skin there.

"I was stopping by for media stuff," He puts his hands up, stepping back from you, "and how about you answer my question about Charles?"

"I was just--there?" You try and Daniel crosses his arms and looks at you with the most incredulous look in his eyes, head cocked and everything as he laughs.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Well, I--augh, okay," You groan, sitting on the back of the couch in the drivers room, "this isn't exactly easy to say. I'm kinda not trying to tell my brother about this?"

"Woah woah, Max doesn't know?" If Daniel could look more shocked at this point, he does.

"No and he can't know because he'd kill Charles." Your voice is small, frustratedly bringing heat to your cheeks. Other than your small group of friends from Monaco, and some from back home, you hadn't told anyone about this yet, "Do you promise you won't say anything?"

"I can pretend I saw nothing if that will make you feel better?" Daniel offers and you shake your head curling your hand around the edge of the dress you wear.

"Charles and I..." You huff, crossing your ankles, "have been dating for... two years now? I practically live at his apartment in Monaco when I'm not with Max and Kelly. And Max, apparently, doesn't want me dating any drivers so we... can't exactly... tell Max."

"Two and a half years? You've kept this a secret for two and half years and I'm the one who figured it out?" Daniel scoffs, "Honestly, Y/n, I'm impressed."

"Thanks? But I... I don't know what to do, Danny! We wanna tell Max so bad, but if I do I risk ruining everything!" You bury your head in your hands, groaning, "I can't lose Charles, but I can't lose Max either."

"Do you really think Max was serious about that rule?" Daniel asks, sitting next to you, "Because you're a fully grown adult, so like... how much control does he really have over who you date?"

"Well, I am viewed as an extension of my brother so therefore he gets a bit of a say. And if people find out the baby sister of Max Verstappen is dating Charles Leclerc?"

"Point taken." Daniel hums, "Media nightmare."

"Yep." You stand, pacing the room as you talk with your hands, something you'd picked up from Charles at some point, "there have been a thousand times I've wanted to say something! Thousands! Everytime the two of them are together, I can't ever imagine Max being upset about it. But then I get that little gnawing feeling in my gut. I just... can't do it. Because... if I do, and it ends in disaster, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it."

"And if it doesn't end in disaster?" Daniel inquires after you pause. You turn slowly to face him, watching as he tilts his head to further push his question. You've dreamed of it. Finally being able to tell Max everything about it, Charles had made it clear to you he was itching to tell his practical best friend too, and it would clear the main argument you and Charles had.

You laugh, "I'd be the happiest person alive."

y/nverstappen made a new post !

liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, lewishamilton, and 238k others...

y/nverstappen: mon nounours <3 j'adore les fêtes

maxverstappen: who?????

⤷ maxverstappen: also when the fuck did you learn french?

⤷ y/nverstappen: i have a tutor or two

user1: omg baby verstappen has a boy???

danielricciardo: 'i can't say anything' and yet u CAN post that. ITS NOT EVEN SNEAKY??

⤷ y/nverstappen: a moment of weakness i admit. ALSO YES THE FUCK IT IS DANIEL

⤷ user2: danny tell us what u know

charlesleclerc: babys first rolex?

⤷ y/nverstappen: im too afraid to wear it !! i dont want it to break or get lost or stolen 😵‍💫

lewishamilton: rolex + bracelet combo perfection

user3: i need to know who shes dating.

charlesleclerc made a new post!

liked by y/nverstappen, arthurleclerc, danielricciardo, and 289k more...

charlesleclerc: deux ans de toi, mon étoile. pour toujours.

maxverstapen: two years?? and I don't know her???

⤷ charlesleclerc: look i can keep a secret, surprisingly.

danielricciardo: good man

user1: CHARLES SOFT LAUNCH???

arthurleclerc: oh so you left out the part where you've been dating her FOR TWO YEARS??? CHARLES???

⤷ charlesleclerc: oops !

user4: 'two years of you, my star. forever' im going to SCREAM

liked by charlesleclerc

carlossainz: am i allowed to say who she is yet?

⤷ charlesleclerc: no and i still owe you for not locking the door

⤷ user2: HELP???

⤷ user3: poor carlos has been scarred for life.

⤷ carlossainz: honestly it was kinda funny

#f1 fanfic #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula 1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen fanfic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader

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ireneaesthetic · 21 days

Text

Pointing out little moments and details of scenes that need to be remembered.

"i can show you" scene • episode 1

the first wille’s smile of the season and simon is the one and only reason for it to happen *act surprised*.

he has no rush but takes his time to enjoy simon’s presence, looking from afar first and then approaching him. just having him there is enough to make him This happy.

the casual gestures of fixing the jacket or bumping into the shoulder make me melt - just typical boyfriends things and we absolutely praise them in this house!

wille's flirtatious mood in this whole sequence is the best thing that could've happened to me - to simon too! the "i can show you", the whispering, the head's nod. he's still my fav loser but oh how much he has learned and stepped up the game.

also, i genuinely think not showing them holding hands here with a wider shot is a crime.

such a perfect parallel of the fish scene and they're probably reminded of that too: this time it's wilhelm's bedroom and a foreign place for simon, so he's the curious one - looking around and taking the space in - while wille simply waits for him.

simon's "mysigt" to describe the room, just like wilhelm did. it is another special moment for both of them.

this. this. this!!! claim a s3 moment as your own - this is mine.

to me it is the most seductive and romantic one they've ever shared hands down. it comes straight out of a fanfic.

the tension, the longing, the chemistry, the flirting. there's so much to unpack here: wille's breath is literally vibrating and simon's presence is so intense, he builds up the tension and keeps wilhelm waiting for his next move in the most endearing way - wille is also leaning into his hand at the end. there's no talking, they're barely touching but still filling the room with all the passion and attraction they feel for one another - this is actually insanely scripted and portrayed.

no thoughts head empty just simon's tongue and his hands through wille's hair (he's obsessed, excuse him!).

and it kinda seems like simon is getting pulled closer by the waist or he's pushing himself closer - either way it's hot soo

simon's little leg lift and him pinning wille down on the bed by the wrist right before the cut - they're comfortable and open and so playful with each other. wilhelm's hand that caresses simon's back is very much important too.

simon caressing wille's cheek (he has to return the favor ig) and wilhelm leaning up again when they interrupt the kiss.

these brief moments are the cutest. i love how they stay so close and can't stop tracing each other's features.

the nose rub. the mirrored smiles. they've missed and wanted this for so long and they're taking the most of it.

this whole scene is so passionate and they're both so touchy bc they were clearly waiting for this to happen - during a meeting at the palace might not be the greatest scenario, but the thrill that comes with it is definitely something.

i like the role play throughout the scene sm: wille initiates the first kiss, simon is the one taking the lead next and then it all comes back to wille rolling them over and taking initiative. the neck action is a serious thing for him and idk where his hand would've ended up if they hadn't been interrupted - and we do! love! all of it!

they're laughing over the fact that they were not caring about anything at all but spending quality time with each other. and they deserve it so freaking much.

look at them!!! this is not a subtle look bc they simply do not care anymore. i adore them your honor.

#we're back baby #young royals #young royals analysis #yr s3 #i can show you scene #wilhelm x simon #wilmon

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ghouljams · 3 months

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Hi! Surprisingly shy anon here, brave enough to share some more brain rot. As always, no need to answer if you don’t feel like it and love everything you write! Also the c.ai thing is a bit messed up :/ not to dunk on the people who asked, but c’mon.

Anyway, the brain rot. This time is about The Ghost Distribution System™. So, let’s say it’s been a bit of back and forth, you accepting whatever help Simon offers, not questioning much by now, and repaying it with whatever kind and domestic gesture. (Like some warm and nice homemade dinner or some cuddles while watching a movie, idk.)

And you know, time passes, seasons come and go and oops, there’s a snowstorm, you get snowed into your house. But before you even have time to worry about the few days you have before you need to do groceries or get out of the house for whatever reason, poof Simon’s there, shovel in hand and clearing your entrance and driveway.

Once he’s done you, as always, invite him in to thank him and offer him a nice warm shower. You insist on him using your bathroom and not the guest one, the dial for the temperature in the guest shower doesn’t work too well (and Simon takes a mental note of that to fix it another day).

Imagine his surprise when he comes out of the shower and instead of finding his damp clothes from shoveling in the snow they are all warm and dry, neatly folded and so obviously just taken out from the dryer. Not only that, but when he’s all dressed and warm an cozy, he walks out of the room and notices this amazing smell.

And there you are in the kitchen, finishing up and amazing warm meal that you made while he finished shoveling and took a shower. Smile when you see him walk into the kitchen and say that it’ll be done soon.

Yeah… there’s no way he’s leaving.

Your shower. Your personal, sacred, space. Ghost doesn't argue with the offered kindness, doesn't blink when you tell him to leave his clothes out so you can dry them off. He's used to following orders, less used to being taken care of. Maybe that's why he's so desperate to take care of you in turn, show you that he can carry his weight and yours. It's bitterly cold shoveling out a path for you, but never thankless. Not when you pull him inside with quiet concern and direct him to your room, your shower, with all the softness that you enjoy on a daily basis.

He spares your bed a glance, the crumpled duvet and heavy quilts, the pile of pillows, all unmade and well lived in. He almost feels bad leaving his snow damp clothes on it. Feels worse for imagining you sleeping in it, your breath soft, your body vulnerable, maybe one day you'd let him stay the night, let him sit at the foot of your bed like a guard while you sleep.

He's been so good, he hasn't thought of you as anything but the divine, hasn't looked at you with lustful eyes. So why does he grip the towel hanging up next to your shower? Why does he lift it to his nose to try and find your scent? Why does he close his eyes and imagine the fabric dragging over your body, open them to stare at the shower and wish you were in it with him? Why does he see sin when he twists the water to hot? Why does he fist his cock and press his forehead against the cool tile? You're his god, his divine, he shouldn't debase you with such thoughts.

But this is your space, your sanctuary. It's your shampoo he washes through his hair, your body wash he scrubs against his skin, your scent that he hopes desperately will replace his own. Yet when he comes with your washcloth pressed to the head of his cock, he hopes you'll rub some of his scent into your skin as well. He spends longer in the shower than he hoped, stands under the water until it's as cold as the snow he just shoveled. Penitence for his thoughts, punishment for his actions.

And then to find his clothes still warm, neatly folded on your bed. You're a merciful god, always. He can't hope to keep up with your kindness, can only attempt to match the warmth you show him. That's why he has to keep working, has to keep proving himself a devoted follower. He can't rest in your kitchen, eat your food, steal your smiles, without offering some part of himself in return. You've offered him salvation, what could he ever give you to match that?

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #the ghost distribution system #ghost call of duty #mdni

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multifandomgirl08 · 1 month

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The Moment You Smiled At Me [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Pre-Established Relationship)

Summary: The evening that started it all for Max and Reader.

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: Title taken from the song Rain by Sleep Token.

Words: 2.3k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Max had always hated going to these FIA parties. It had nothing to do with racing, and although he had no issue with supporting the sport and the people that were coming up in it. He saw no real reason as to why they had to get dressed up. Wouldn’t it have just been easier to give out these awards at the end of the season during the last race and calling it done?

He was caught in a small group of people who were waiting to get their picture taken on the blue carpet. Some of them he knew and the others he didn’t. He could see people walking around before making their way inside to the tables not stopping by for more than a glance at him.

Max glanced down at his watch to check the time and instead caught the sight of light blue fabric out of the corner of his eyes. He looked up wondering if he could see who was wearing the color, but all he saw was the back of a dress belonging to a woman who had her arms locked with a man. They disappeared into the room.

Eventually, Max had managed to make his way out of the group that he was stuck with and inside towards the tables, people weren’t sitting yet. His eyes traveled over the room wondering about the light blue dress he saw. He tried to tell himself that it was nothing, but his eyes' normal laser-sharp focus seemed to be playing a trick on him.

But then he saw it again. It was going towards the front of the stage, just a little far from where he stood. He looked a little higher and saw a wide feminine smile greet him. He felt the need to fix his posture or at the very least making it seem like he wasn’t miserable being here, but was quick to realize that she may be looking past him and not at him.

He looked behind him to see no one standing there and then back towards her to see her cover her mouth; she was probably laughing at him. He pushed his shoulders back and couldn’t help that his feet led him to her.

As he got closer he realized that he didn’t know her. Never seen her before in his life, and maybe heading straight to her was… strange.

He didn’t want to just outright ask her why she smiled at him or why she laughed at him as he looked behind himself earlier. Maybe she just did that, smiling at strangers that she didn’t know.

“Smiling at random people again, Y/N?” He heard as someone walked up to her, Y/N.

“Maybe.” She said as if it was nothing.

“I don’t know how you can just kill people with your kindness.”

“Fatal flaw.”

“Right,” He heard as a retort. “I’ll see you at the table.”

Max saw her give him a half nod before he finally came up to her.

“You’re date?” He couldn’t help but ask before he reached up to pat his hair down. He knew that it wasn’t sticking up since he had put on hair jell before he left his hotel.

Her eyes met his quickly, “No, my co-worker. I’m just his plus one.”

“Oh, what do you do?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“Private banking, I’m always traveling for work though. I can’t wait for the day when I’ll be able to work from home full time.”

Max lifted his eyebrows at her words. “Don’t like traveling?”

“I do, sometimes. I’m just a homebody.”

“I’m like that. I’m gone from home more than I would like.” He liked being at home with the cats, not having his phone to worry about, and spending time with his son. Nico was such a wonder to him. He was just over a year old and was walking and touching things that he shouldn’t. Jimmy was not happy when Nico had decided to pull his tail one time.

He wanted to tell her that story but knew that he shouldn’t. She didn’t know that he had a son, and he didn’t want it to get out.

“What about you? What do you do?” She asked. Before he could answer Christian came up to him.

“Max, I hate to interrupt but you’ve got to go up. They’re starting the ceremony soon.” Max silently glared at Christian for a moment.

“That’s okay.” She said reaching towards the table for her handbag. “It was nice talking to you, Max.”

She quickly bowed her head a little before going off towards the tables that faced the stage. It seemed like she didn’t know who he was, or what he did for a job given that she bothered asking him what it was he did.

His eyes followed her until she sat down next to who she claimed to be her co-worker. Christian put his hand on his shoulder, ready to lead him up the stage. Waiting while they lowered the lights and made all of the introductions felt like it took forever. It was like waiting behind the safety car after there was a yellow flag.

Finally, he managed to get up on stage to present the award for Rookie of the Year. He awkwardly ran through the speech that he was given and tried to keep his eyes towards the crowd but couldn’t help it when they kept drifting back to you in the light blue dress that you were wearing.

You weren’t talking to anyone while he was up on the stage. Eventually after painstakingly finishing the speech and handing the award over to Oscar Piastri, he made his way off the stage and back into the crowd of people sitting at the tables.

The rest of the speeches came to an end after a while. People started to make their way out of the room and out towards the hallway. Max hadn’t been pulled into any conversations luckily.

There was a familiar feeling of his phone buzzing in the inside pocket of his tux jacket. He pulled it out to see that it was his mom. He stepped out of the room, hoping to move away from everyone as much as he could.

He ended up outside by the valet watching as a few people were already leaving. If this wasn’t a work obligation he would have done the same and tried to leave as soon as he could.

He pulled his phone out to call his mom back. It rang in his ear.

“Mum?” He questioned after the line picked up.

“Max,” She started. “I just wanted to let you know that Nico’s asleep. It took him a while to fall asleep.”

Max had flown Sophie to Monaco to spend some time with Nico while he would he was in Paris for the FIA Prize Giving Gala. He would fly home tomorrow and be in back with Nico in a few short hours.

Nico had apparently fallen asleep in Max’s bed with Jimmy and Sassy at Nico’s feet. Sophie had told him that Nico missed him, “I miss him too, Mum.”

It was a few moments later that he said goodbye and promised to be home and back with Nico before dinner tomorrow. He pushed his phone back into the pocket of his jacket.

He could hear the clack, clack of footsteps against the cobblestones that made up the driveway to the hotel. Someone was wearing a pair of heels. Max looked in the direction of the sound to see her again.

She stood a few meters away from him, with her black bag in hand and her arms wrapped around herself. She looked like she was cold, the slit on her dress did go up quite high on her leg.

He gave himself a moment just in case someone came after her, but she just stood there looking as people kept getting into different cars.

He slowly walked up to her, “You need help, a jacket maybe?” He asked.

She looked over at him. “I’m fine.”

He could feel her eyes on his jacket. He moved to undo the button, she looked cold. He pulled it off his shoulders.

“I insist.” He said, opening it for her so she could put it on.

She moved closer to him laying the fabric over her shoulders. It only took a few moments before he saw that she looked more comfortable with it on.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s Paris, and it’s November. I’m surprised it’s not snowing.”

“That’s true. I figured that the Gala would be over before it got too cold.” Well at least she didn’t mean to catch hypothermia.

“They normally have it in warmer places.”

“You’ve been to the Gala before?” She asked. “I saw you present an award, so I assume that you know more than I would.”

“Yes, my first was in… 2015.” It was back when he was in Formula 3, he doesn’t remember what it was for now.

“They always this boring?”

“Yes,” He answered honestly. “They don’t change much.”

Max couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. He didn’t know what to talk to her about, he could bring up what she had said earlier, and he was just about to when,

“You didn’t tell me what you do,” She started to say. “Before we were interrupted inside.”

“I drive in Formula 1.”

She gave him a silent nod.

“You like it?” She asked. He didn’t know if he should answer honestly but there was that feeling again that told him he should.

“Sometimes,” He said with sincerity. “I like being with my team, and driving the car. Other things, like this, I don’t really like.”

“I’m sure it’s not all bad.” She was right. It wasn’t all bad, driving in Formula 1 gave him a lot, even with the parts that he didn’t like.

“No,” He said with a slight shrug. “But it doesn’t really give me a whole lot of time for other things.”

Between his F1 schedule and Nico he didn’t really have any time for much else. He had tried dating over the last year and it never seemed to end well. They always ended up wanting to move faster then he was ready for.

“I’m sure if it matters you’ll make time.” She said. He didn’t know why her saying that seemed like it had a softer tone to it after the words moved past her lips.

He couldn’t help but let out a smile. If only she knew the things that he had made time for over the last year.

“Of course, I’m sure your boyfriend feels the same.” He said, as a way to see if she would correct him again.

“Co-worker,” She corrected him just like he wanted. She smiled back at him.

“He wishes, right?” He asked, with a slight laugh to his tone.

“More than you can know.” He could hear her chuckle. So she obviously knew that her “co-worker” invited her here with other intentions.

“You can always go on a date with someone else. So he knows you're not interested.” He offered as if that would actually help her situation.

“You make a good point.” She had just said when the guy from earlier had come out to stand next to her.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” He asked.

“In a moment.” She said with a smile. Y/N didn’t leave him right after.

“Do you have your phone on you?” She asked him.

Max widened his eyes. Was she doing what he thinks she is?

“Uhm, jacket pocket on the right.” He watched her pull his phone out of the inside pocket of his jacket, she turned his phone to him silently asking for him to unlock it for her. He didn’t even take it out of her hand. Just moved a little closer to put his face in view of the front camera so that it would unlock.

She moved to type something in before handing him his phone back and then quickly pulled her own phone out of her bag. He looked down at the screen for a few seconds before a text showed up with the words, Think he’ll take the hint this time?

He heard the closing of her bag before he saw her pull the jacket from her shoulders, slowly handing it back to him, almost as if she didn’t want to lose the warmth the jacket had provided her in those short moments.

“Call me, if you’re ever in London.” She said with their hands brushing and gave him a wide smile before following the guy to a black towncar. His eyes followed her and he couldn’t help but slightly flex his hand from feeling their skin touch. Before she got inside the car she gave him a second look. He couldn’t help but feel a little like he couldn’t breathe, like he had just gotten out of the car after Singapore, watching her leave him standing there. His head was spinning a bit.

He wasn’t sure if he really should. Max would never say that he was the best at flirting and he was sure that this only proved it. But somehow, she still gave him her number and told him to call her.

He took a moment and then pushed the thought away, it was probably just to get the guy to back off.

It was the last week of November, Max had finished up early with all of his sponsorship things at the Factory. He would be leaving to go back to Monaco in a day or two and he couldn’t help but look through the text messages on his phone until he came across the text from Y/N again.

He had thought of her a bit since the Gala. He thought of her, and their conversations. It had taken him a bit before he had realized that she wouldn’t have given him her real number if she didn’t want to talk to him again.

He opened her contact information before pressing on her number to give her a call. Maybe he was ready to make time in his life for someone that could understand him, and eventually his son.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagines

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levithestripper · 3 months

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would they peel an orange for you

masterlist

warnings: gender-neutral reader, none

included characters: yuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, toge inumaki, yuta okkotsu, and kokichi muta (mechamaru).

length: 1.2k || read on ao3 || join my taglist

a/n: i just finished both seasons of jjk and gege owes me money for therapy

— Yuji Itadori

Yuji wouldn’t need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’d be making himself a snack and decides to bring you something too, ‘cause he knows you’ll sneak stuff off his plate anyway, so why not get you your own snack? He also peels your orange nicely, even picking off that icky white string you hate. Yuju brings it to you on a plate, and the gesture makes you smile as he snuggles next to you on the couch in the common area.

“An orange?” you ask, looking up at him from your seat on the sofa. You’re covered up to your chin in a fluffy blanket, warding off the chill you felt due to Yuji’s absence. You swear the man’s like a walking furnace.

“I was getting myself a snack, so I thought I’d get you something, too!” Yuji replies with a smile so bright that it rivals the sun. “I know you like oranges, and you haven’t had one in a while, so I thought you’d like one!” He sits next to you again, wriggling underneath the blanket, putting his cold feet on your bare legs, making you squeal.

You take the plate from him after he stops torturing you with his maliciously cold toes. “Yu!” Yuji just kisses your cheek happily, tangling his legs with yours. Now that he’s had fun, Yuji’s careful not to get his cold feet on you.

— Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi would also peel you an orange, but you’d have to ask him first. You’ll be sitting in his room together, with you on his bed and him at his desk. Last time he was out in the city, Megumi bought a mini fridge for his dorm room so he doesn’t have to walk all the way to the kitchens when he’s hungry late at night.

“Hey, Megs?” you gaze over at him, your head hanging off the edge of his bed, hair dangling upside down with you.

He turns to meet your gaze, chin in his palm. “Yes, my love?” The afternoon sunlight filtering through the windows illuminates Megumi’s pretty features, beautifully highlighting his dark chocolate eyes.

“Could you get me an orange from the mini fridge?”

He nods, silently leaning over and snagging a clementine out of the fridge. Pushing his homework out of the way and unfolding a napkin, Megumi fully peels it in just a few strips, tossing the rind in the trash can underneath his desk. With a soft smile, he wraps your orange in the napkin, placing it in your outstretched hand.

“Thank you, Megs,” you return his smile, moving to sit crisscross. You giddily eat your orange slices, the fruit tasting much better since your boyfriend prepared it. Megumi watches you eat, his chin returning to his palm like before. His oversized cream-colored sweater makes him look like a soft, snuggly teddy bear. “You should take a break, baby. You’ve been working for hours!” you exaggerate, making him giggle quietly.

Megumi sighs with a smile before joining you on his bed, curling up beside you like a cat, resting his head on your shoulder. “I don’t think it’s been hours, love,” he chuckles, stealing an orange slice.

“Hey!”

“Payment, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him but pretend to not see Megumi steal another slice a few moments later.

— Toge Inumaki

Toge also would need to be asked to peel an orange for you. He’s more than happy to do it, as one of his love languages is acts of service. He peels it while sitting on the couch beside you, watching whatever you had on the television. He may or may not take a few pieces for himself in the process.

You lean against him, your head on his shoulder, watching Toge’s nimble fingers fix a snack for you. He separates the orange into individual slices, making it easier to eat as you watch TV. When he hands you the plate, you find a few slices missing, only to see Toge eating them.

“Toge! Those’re mine!” you exclaim, looking at him as if he had deliberately kicked one of your stuffed animals off the bed.

He makes a face at you. “Fish flakes.”

“Oh, don’t fish flakes me, Toge,” you grumble, “No more eating my snacks!”

Toge makes another face at you, teasing you in that silent way he’s gotten good at. He snags another slice before you can move your plate away, a stupid grin spreading across his lips.

— Yuta Okkotsu

Yuta will peel your orange for you, but he’d be sassy about it the entire time. He’s happy to do it, but he’ll be teasing you while he does it. Standing by the counter, Yuta’s peeling your orange in small bits, tossing the skin on a paper towel. “You need me to peel your grapes, too, angel?” he teases, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“You don’t peel grapes, dumbass.”

“You peel them for babies,” Yuta smirks.

You shoot him a warning glare like you’re daring him to continue that train of thought.

He giggles as he finishes sectioning the orange. “I’m not above chucking this at you, angel.”

“Shut up and give me my damn orange,” you snark at him, leaving him in the kitchen to make yourself comfy on the sectional in the common room. The second year’s dorm rooms have better amenities than the first-year dorms.

He sits beside you, throwing a blanket across both of your laps. “You’re so demanding.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“And you love it,” Yuta grins, kissing your cheek.

— Kokichi Muta

Kokichi would one hundred percent hands down peel an orange for you. He’s so incredibly grateful to be with you in person that he’d probably kill someone for you if you asked. So yeah, he’d peel you an orange. He’d probably peel you two oranges. Kokichi would try to peel it into a heart shape, but if it didn’t work the way he wanted, he’d just arrange the longest scraps into a vague heart shape the best he could.

Sitting at the breakfast counter, you watch Kokichi prepare a lovely breakfast for both of you. Bacon sizzles on the stove next to a pan of over-easy eggs. While he waits for the bacon to finish, Kokichi plates the eggs and toast before grabbing a bag of fruit from the fridge. He washes a handful of red and green grapes and sets them in a bowl, now quickly peeling two oranges, one for you and one for him. He places the fruit on your plate, careful to keep it from touching your eggs.

You didn’t expect Kokichi to prepare your fruit for you; no one besides your parents when you were little had ever done that before. “Oh, Chi, you didn’t have to do that for me,” you say, affection warming your chest.

He smiles at you sweetly, his scar stretching slightly. “I know. I wanted to.” Kokichi lifts the bacon pan off the stove, holding it over the counter while he splits it evenly on each plate. “I know you don’t like the feeling of the peel underneath your nails.”

Kokichi’s words fill you with so much love and other indescribable emotions that it makes you want to scream. You pull him to lean over the counter for a kiss. “What did I do to deserve you, Chi?”

He grins against your lips, kissing you back with all the passion bubbling inside his chest as well. “You deserve all this and more, you know. But we’ve gotta eat before our eggs get cold.”

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

Hi! Could I request a plus size!reader with James? Maybe where she gets upset because she can’t wear his clothes and she can’t do cute little girlfriend things like him picking her up and stuff like that?

Thanks for requesting babe!

cw: size insecurity

modern au ig because new girl

James Potter x plus size!reader ♡ 956 words

“I’m kind of thinking of jumping back to season four,” you call towards the bedroom. “Jess is about to leave for jury duty, and I don’t like those episodes as much.”

“Pretty sure you’ve got them all memorized anyway,” James says back. “Why don’t we just watch Friends instead?”

Your mouth twists even though he can’t see it, but luckily, the feeling behind the expression carries in your voice anyway. “Because it’s not as good.”

“Okay.” James rolls his eyes lightly as he emerges from your bedroom, now clad in pajamas to match you. “We can do New Girl again, but I need my pillow, please.”

You sigh heavily, feigning reluctance as you uncurl your legs from underneath you and prop your feet on the coffee table. James hurries over, sprawling out on the couch and settling his head on the cushion of your thighs. He’s due for a haircut. His thick curls spread out around him like the sun’s rays. He smiles up at you, dopey, and you tamp down a grin as you start the episode.

Not ten minutes in, there’s a flashback about when one character was in college. Bigger, dorkier, romantically inept. It’s played for a laugh. You glance down at James. He’s wormed a hand under your leg and is kneading the fat there like putty. It’s an absentminded gesture, nothing critical about it, but you wonder if he’s correlating you with the actor on screen, bumbling and the butt of the joke in his fatsuit.

You comb a hand through James’ hair, and he looks up, catches you watching him. He’s never been one to mind being observed. He shoots you a smile, catching your hand with his other and pressing it to his lips.

You smile back. “Do you ever wish you had a skinny girlfriend?” you ask him.

If he’s surprised by the abruptness of the question, he doesn’t show it. “Nope,” he answers. “Never. What would I do for a pillow?”

You consciously keep your smile in place, fixing your eyes back on the screen. The one character is telling the story of how embarrassing it was to lose his virginity. Like sex was borderline impossible, just because he was chubby.

You feel James’ head shift on your legs, and look down to find he’s turned towards you. “We manage just fine,” he whispers conspiratorially.

You exhale amusedly through your nose. “Yeah? I don’t near crush you every time?”

“It’s really cute that you think you could, lovie.”

You roll your eyes, letting them land on the TV. “Sometimes I wish I could do more…quintessential girlfriend stuff.” You can feel James’ eyes on you, but he keeps quiet. “Like when girls steal their boyfriend’s hoodies and stuff.”

You look down, and James’ eyebrows have lowered slightly. “You could borrow my hoodies if you wanted to,” he says. “Angel, you know I think you’re the perfect size, don’t you? Do I not tell you that enough?”

You give him a little smile, shoulders coming up bashfully. (He does. He makes little comments all day long—how pretty you look, how he loves your thighs, how soft and warm you are when you’re cuddling, how lovely and squishable your ass is in his hands.) “It’s not you,” you say, “it’s just hard not to think about those girls who, like, drown in their boyfriends’ clothes, you know? And your stuff fits almost tight on me.”

James looks at you considerately, nodding. You and he aren’t vastly different sizes, with James’ bulky frame and wide shoulders. You just…he treats you like you’re precious, but sometimes you wish you looked precious standing next to him, too. You wish he could pick you up with one arm or make jokes about you being tiny like a chihuahua or whatever else it is the boyfriends of petite girls do.

“I realize this is rather selfish,” James says, “but I actually quite enjoy that I’m able to borrow your clothes from time to time.” He glances pointedly down at his shirt, which you now realize has been pilfered from your wardrobe. “And if it’s baggy clothes you’re looking for, I could always get a couple loose-fitting hoodies, wear them around and get ‘em all smelled up, and then pass them on to you.” You must look about as lovesick as you feel, because his smile returns, brown eyes sweetly knowing. “Does that sound like something you’d like?”

“Yeah,” you say, biting your lip to keep from beaming too embarrassingly. “Yes, please. Thanks, Jamie.”

“Course.” He gives your thigh a hearty squeeze, turning his head to press a wet smooch to your skin. “You know, those other girls are missing out on things, too,” he says. “I doubt their boyfriends spend so much time lounging on them, and I know how much you love it when I make your legs fall asleep.”

You snicker. “You’re right, I do love that.”

James’ smile spreads wider at your response. “I know you do, lovie. All for you, of course. Also, I know it’s not a hoodie, but I have that one red jumper that’s pretty big on me. You know the one?”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” You sit up straighter. “I totally forgot about that. Could I use it?”

“What’s mine is yours.”

“Thanks.” You scoot out from under him, and James sits up, upset.

“Oi! Where do you think you’re going? I was comfy!”

“To change,” you call back from halfway down the hall.

“Never change, angel!” You roll your eyes at the stupid joke, grinning to yourself. “I love you just the way you are!”

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totaly-obsessed · 4 months

Text

Revelations

Katie McCabe x reader request

-> Katie and you watch Aine play football for the first time

-> 2 requests in one - I hope you like it!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

‘I want another one’ somehow happened quite fast and not even a year later – Aine was getting ready to be a big sister. Telling her didn’t quite go as Katie or you had planned…

“Baby in Mummy’s tummy!”

A deadly silence had fallen over the kitchen as your wife and you just exchanged glances, trying to figure out who had snitched, both convinced that it was not you.

“What do ya mean lovie?” Katie tried to act unknowingly but apparently forgot that Aine had gotten the sass from her.

“You need to listen better!” You could barely hold yourself up with how much you were shaking with laughter and the Irishwoman’s shocked face. “Watch ya tone, Missy!”

By now the young girl had attached herself to your leg, clawing at you for ‘uppies’ as she had once called it. When you finally caved and sat her on the kitchen counter, she was quickly joined by Cooper who nuzzled his head into her side.

“You’re right doll. There is a baby in Mummy’s tummy – you will be a big sister.” Both of you were curious about how the seven-year-old would react to the news, not even caring at this point how she had figured it out.

“Like Mama and Auntie Lauryn!” Cooper by now had enough of the excited bouncing, opting to leave and look for a pretty spot in the sun where he could nap until his small human companion would inevitably find him and smother him in pets.

“That’s right bub! What do you think of that?” Back was the tense silence, as Katie grabbed your hand, giving it a loving squeeze – this was much more terrifying than you had thought. At least you didn’t need to actually tell Aine the news, she had taken that upon herself.

The small brunette looked around the open kitchen and living space, her pigtails swishing through the air as she scooted closer to the edge of the countertop, getting her face right next to yours. Katie’s hands were ready in case she fell, which she wouldn’t but Katie would always worry. “Pssshh! Don’t tell - this was my biggest wish for Santa! And it came true!”

Your wife couldn’t help but laugh, kissing her daughter's forehead before hiding her face in the very familiar brown hair. “Well, Santa came early then, huh?” It was in the middle of November, but ever since last Christmas, the seven-year-old had started a wish list. “He did! Cause I wanted it so badly – and Mummy did too!”

This had gone over much better than you could have imagined, and for now, you were just fine with her thinking that Santa was the way her little sibling would find its way to her. “You’re right Lovie. Mummy and Mama wished for it really badly too.”

---

It was no secret that Aine wanted to be just like her Mama, so her playing football should really not come as a surprise to either of you but it turns out that seeing her little girl get accepted into the Arsenal U8s team was something entirely different.

The little brunette had tried out for them, just like any other kid (no matter what haters would say), and got accepted with no problem. At their age group, it wasn’t considered as ‘Academy’ training, but rather ‘Pre academy’, with two training sessions a week and ten games across the whole season. They also weren’t separated into a girls' and boys' team just yet, so the Arsenal U8’s was a mixed team that would compete against other fixed games and also just boys teams.

With spring break coming up, Aine’s first match was also coming closer and closer. Katie had never felt so many emotions. Seeing you at six months pregnant and now well rounded while her little girl went to training after training, each time coming home with a bigger smile.

“Look at this! You’ll look just like Mama!”

Katie really couldn’t hold her tears anymore – with you holding her hand Aine admired herself in the mirror, wearing her game-day kit for the very first time.

But instead of Katie's 15 on her back, she had a 10 – for Kim Little, the best Midfielder there was and your daughter's biggest idol, much to her mama's disappointment.

“You look so grown up, Doll.” Seeing your wife this emotional, and Aine so happy gave you the rest. Now both of you were bawling your eyes out while the little brunette hopped around the house, before running back with Katie’s phone in her little hands.

“Take a picture, Mummy! For Auntie Kim!”

In the picture you were holding the grinning girl in your arms, as she proudly kissed your tummy, refusing to properly pose as she wanted to show Kim her little sibling as well.

This was the best day yet for the young gunner. After all, she was going to be a big sister, so she had to be a good example and play good football – just like the grown-ups.

“Do me a favor, my love?” Aine stood in between her mother's legs when she finally composed herself a little. “Hmmm?”

“Grow up a little slower, will ya?”

---

Turns out preparing for gameday, and actually experiencing one, were completely different experiences – especially when it was a double game day.

Aine was already hopping through the house like an excited bunny when Katie made her way down the stairs to make breakfast.

The Irishwoman had kissed your forehead, gently waking you up with a mumbled “Mornin Love. Thirty minutes.” Before going downstairs. God was her morning voice attractive.

It was seven in the morning. On a Sunday. Entirely too early for a six-month pregnant you who had put a giddy child to bed, that didn’t want to sleep. But your wife was gracious, giving you thirty more minutes to wake up fully before helping her daughter bring breakfast in.

You could get used to this – a delicious meal in bed with your wife and daughter, although a little later would have been nice.

“Mummy, when do we have to go?” This was the third time Aine had asked in the last ten minutes, and every time either Katie or you had given her the answer but the small brunette couldn’t help herself – she was just too excited.

This was the fastest you had ever seen the seven-year-old get washed and dressed after breakfast. She was so fast, that she had gotten impatient with your much slower speed. Aine took it upon herself to get you dressed while you brushed your teeth while sat on the closed toilet.

“Foot please Mama!” You did as asked, picking up your legs off the floor so that your daughter could slip socks over your feet.

And with a quick zoom, she was in your bedroom again, just to return with wide, comfortable pants that you just knew that your wife chose. Instead of giving them to you, she threw them on the floor. “Step in please!” Good thing you were already wearing underwear, huh? As good as she could, Aine helped you get them up and over your bump, but not before giving it a kiss and whispering a small “Hi!”

It went like that until you were fully dressed and she pulled you to the hallway, where your wife helped you into shoes as you could barely see the ground anymore.

“Is this okay? I thought maybe I should have given her longer socks because it will be cold – but then we have a blanket so maybe you will get too hot an-“ Katie’s rambling was cut short with a passionate kiss. “It’s perfect – Thank you, my Love.”

“Let go, let go, let's go!”

---

“Now you know how it feels to watch you play!” Katie was tense as she leaned against one of the beams that surrounded the football pitch.

The drive here had gone by fairly quickly as Aine made sure to tell your wife all about her teammates. You had met most of them already during practice or while picking her back up again – the small brunette would always chat with anybody who would listen until you walked over to take her home. Her chattiness definitely came from your wife – but right now there was nothing in the world that could make the Irishwoman relax.

“She’s tougher than she looks, my Love.” By now you had taken the footballer's hand, rubbing calming circles on it in a desperate attempt to calm her down.

Aine was one of four girls on the pitch – two on her team and two on the other. The rest were all boys. And while you knew that she was feistier than she looked, much more like her mother than you, the size difference between her and some of the boys was terrifying.

“Oi Ref!” Your wife’s hand shot up when an opposing boy had clumsily taken your daughter down with him in an attempt to stop her from getting even closer to their goal. “That’s a free kick! Ref!” The guy refereeing the game didn’t see the incident at first, angering Katie even further – but when he did look over the first thing that he saw, was a tiny brunette shoving a boy at least a head taller off of her.

The shrill sound of a whistle agreed with Katie, and the Arsenal U8s were indeed allowed a freekick in a very good position for them, as your daughter had been very central on the field and closing in on goal.

Katie’s grip on your hand tightened with stress – she knew what she would do in this situation. But did her seven-year-old know it as well? They spent countless dinner conversations talking about football and plenty of different techniques, with impressive input from Aine, so she had to know what she was doing, right?

And she did.

The brunette passed to one of her free strikers and started running through the masses. She was small, fast, and agile – and before the opposing team could blink, her striker passed back to her when she was standing directly in front of the goal.

“Yes! That’s my daughter!”

Katie couldn’t contain herself any longer – the ball had hit the back of the net with a surprising amount of force, their keeper jumping in the other direction, making this a perfect goal. Her first goal.

After high-fiving every player on her team your daughter sprinted over to where you stood and gave a quick kiss to your belly just like she had done earlier in the morning. “For you, baby!”

The match ended shortly after Arsenal's third goal, assisted by your daughter who once again looked at you and Katie, to see if you watched her – which you did.

One of the trainers had brought a box of mixed ice-creams and even though the young brunette wasn’t supposed to, she took three of them and quickly made her way to you and your wife.

“Don’t you wanna eat with your friends baby?”

“Nuh-uh. You are my best friends.”

Well, there go your hormones again as you couldn’t hold your tears at bay any longer. “I love you so much Aine. And you played so well.” The seven-year-old kissed your forehead much like Katie did, before ensuring that someone had recorded the game so that she could show Auntie Kim her goal.

“That was my first win for baby sister, Mommy! Now Mama needs to win tonight so it’s a perfect day!”

“Geez no pressure huh?” Everything was packed up now and the pitch was getting emptier by the minute as multiple parents made their way to their cars at the same time you did.

“Aine I have a question.”

“Yeah?”

“What if it’s a baby brother instead?”

She was now buckled into her car seat, with Katie still at her door trying to work out something that has been bothering her ever since your daughter had announced that you were pregnant again. Neither you nor Katie have been told the gender of the baby, yet the youngest family member seemed sure that it would be a girl again.

“It’s not. It’s a baby sister.”

“How do you know that?”

You tried to watch their interaction as well as you could from your passenger seat. Your Wife’s eyes were wide with curiosity, something that you saw in Aine nearly every day.

“I just do.”

“You terrify me, Kid.”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #katie mc cabe x reader #katie mccabe #katie mccabe x reader

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capricornlevi · 7 months

Text

noise complaints -- choso x reader

college au!choso x reader, RA!choso, secret relationship. wc 2.5k

MDNI, 18+ only. reader has a vagina but no gendered pronouns.

"he's at the door again!"

you hear utahime's shout from the bedroom next to yours but you don't answer, hoping she'll get the message from your pointed silence.

she doesn't.

"come on!" she protests through the paper-thin walls. "please! you're the only one he likes, we never get written up when you answer."

"turning the music down could help!" you shout back, but without much malice. it's 8pm on a friday, hardly unsociable hours, and the speaker isn't nearly as loud as some of the other dorms on your floor. it's not exam season; there's no reason why you need to be singled out for punishment.

plus, the only reason you're not in there with her -- drunkenly singing along to some autogenerated playlist that has 27 likes, sipping 'sangria' that's more like boxed red wine and soda -- is because she's on a date, one she's been looking forward to for some time now, one you helped her get ready for as she rambled anxiously about her plans for the evening.

you don't have it in you to begrudge her.

"fine," you sigh, rubbing your tired eyes with the back of your hand.

two voices cheer victoriously from next door.

"we love you!"

you chuckle to yourself before it gets cut off by a yawn.

tossing your phone onto the bedside table, you stand up, rolling out a knot in your shoulder that you know will only get worse as the evening progresses.

time to go see the RA.

the shy, reserved, yet surprisingly strict RA. the one who has a particular hatred for noise complaints.

he's still knocking at your door; like utahime, he clearly doesn't take silence for an answer. you speed up to answer it before your roommate feels to need to intervene herself.

as you make your way down the hall, you wonder absent-mindedly if you should've changed into something more ... formal. your vest is nearly see-through, the fabric light and flimsy, but you rationalise it away.

it's summer. it's insufferably hot in the dorms, too uncomfortable to wear anything other than the bare minimum.

you're sure he won't mind. he's probably hot as well.

not dwelling on those thoughts any further, you open the door to find what you expected to see -- choso standing there, holding the tablet that the RAs are issued with to log complaints on their floor, chipped black nail polish clearly visible as he tucks the device against his chest.

he's wearing all black - as per usual - but he's swapped his typical hoodie and jeans for a t-shirt and light sweats, looking a little self-conscious as your eyes flicker up and down while taking in the change in outfit.

you grin. it's really endearing.

"hi, choso."

"hi," he replies, a blush staining his cheekbones already. his dark hair is swept back in its usual hairstyle, a few soft strands falling into his eyes before he brushes them out of the way. he gives you a look you're all too familiar with, peering up at you through frustratingly perfect eyelashes, dark brown eyes meeting yours with a forced confidence "you ... you probably know why i'm knocking."

"i can guess," you answer plainly, still smiling at him as he puts in significant effort in keeping his eyes fixed on your face.

he bites his lip, a silver ring catching the light as it shifts. "okay. the same as before, then."

"so you're here about the noise?" you offer innocently, gesturing down to utahime's room.

he looks confused for a moment, thin brows furrowing as he tries to piece together your reasoning.

eventually, he seems to understand what you're getting at. he raises his voice just loud enough that utahime can hear from down the hall.

"yeah, the noise. got a report in a few minutes ago, so --"

"of course," you reply diligently. "i understand."

"uh ... good. so we're clear, then."

he trails off a little awkwardly, and if it weren't for the darkening of his pupils you'd think he was actually discouraged by your responses. you wonder if you've put on too good of a show.

not willing to let that happen, your grin deepens as you lift your hand, take him by the collar and drag him in for a messy kiss, barely letting the door close behind him as you pull him inside.

the awkward, shy version of choso nearly disappears the moment his lips meet yours again; he's voracious, hungry, the cool metal of his piercing hitting off your teeth as he deepens the kiss within moments of touching you.

you're still just as surprised by this side of him, this layer you didn't know he had, the same as you were the first time this happened. you relish every time you get to see it.

from what he's alluded to before, nobody else has the privilege.

"w-wait," you whisper against his lips, kiss-slick and already swollen, "you have to be quiet. she ... it's too early for her to find out."

instead of answering, he fixes his lips to your pulse point, suckling at your neck as he backs you against the wall, your shoulderblades hitting against the cold plaster and raising your skin to goosebumps.

"choso -- choso, i'm not kidding," you protest half-heartedly, the whisper already torn and desperate. "we need to -- we need to get to my room, ok? then we can do whatever --"

before you've even finished the sentence he pulls back, face now fully flushed but not from embarrassment, not from self-consciousness.

"or i can eat you out right here?" he offers quietly, one hand on your waist as the other drifts lower, trailing up your thigh and along the hemline of your skirt. against your better judgment, your hips start to shift, chasing his touch, the sensation you know only his fingers can bring.

just then, the music coming from utahime's room pauses, plunging the apartment into a sudden silence.

choso's hand stills on your thigh; you barely breathe as you listen intently, waiting for utahime to burst through the door and discover you here in the most compromising of positions.

thankfully, it's just her switching the song. seconds later the music starts to play again and you hear her date's voice sing along, blissfully unaware of what's happening just feet away from them both.

taking that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom, you take choso's hand and guide him down the hall, single-minded in your goal.

he lets you, knowing that it will pay off.

once you're safely hidden away in your room, you move in tandem as he backs you up towards your twin bed, his lips only leaving your jawline when he needs to catch his breath.

this is going to be really fun.

before you can even repeat your warning to stay quiet, you're lying flat on your back on the mattress, your already-short skirt hiking up your thighs as you settle against the sheets.

choso grins when he sees your nipples pebble against the thin fabric of your vest. his hands trail up your body, thumbs tracing lazy circles as you wriggle to try and shimmy out of your clothes.

he doesn't rush you, though. from the look on his face, you'd guess he could just play with your tits all evening and be more than satisfied.

but you're not of the same opinion. you need his touch somewhere else, need it to the point of aching, and you tell him as much.

he's not the type to tease with words. he's quiet, deliberate, even right now -- but he doesn't need to say what he wants to do out loud. you know with just a look, the way his tongue plays with his lip piercing, the imprint of his cock through his sweats.

even though you've been in this exact situation before, you can't tear your eyes away from the sight of choso getting on his knees before you, tugging your underwear down your legs and pressing wet kisses to your sensitive inner thighs.

you almost cry out before remembering to cut yourself off. hastily covering for yourself, you start to warn him;

"we need to stay --"

"yeah, quiet. i know," he whispers with a smile, not willing to protest too much given the situation he's in now, the one he's pictured every time he's touched himself this past week, since he met you in the abandoned study closet on the third floor on saturday.

since he fucked you against the wall till tears streamed down your cheeks, until your thighs shook around his trim waist, limbs turned to jelly as he wrung orgasm after orgasm from you.

"promise?" you whisper with a little smile, knowing it won't affect your own answer.

your underwear now tossed to the side, he takes his thumb and index finger and spreads you open, the cool air over your exposed flesh making you gasp, reverent in how he looks at you.

"i'll try," comes his hushed answer, before he dips his head in to taste.

the first slide of his tongue has your breath catching in your throat, spine already arching off the bed as he moves slowly, methodically, savouring your taste before circling back on your clit, dragging the tip of his tongue over the hood.

his grip on your thighs is strong but it needs to be in order for you to stay any bit still; you squirm against him, his nails leaving crescent indentations in your skin as he keeps you steady.

at the first broken cry of his name, he stops immediately.

you let out a groan of protest, lifting your head from the pillow to further voice your grievances, only to be met with a petulant-sounding;

"you said to be quiet."

frustrated at your own words being used against you, you let your head fall back, mulling over how to reply.

utahime's music is still playing. they mightn't hear you, you're not being that loud --

but choso still hasn't picked up where he left off.

you know what he's capable of doing with that tongue, those fingers, so you throw in the towel fairly quickly.

"fine."

"use the back of your hand if you need to," he whispers before pausing, leaning over to pick up something, "or use this."

he tosses your own underwear towards you.

you grab it and throw it aside, rolling your eyes playfully.

"it hasn't come to that yet."

"still," he retorts, lowering himself down again, "it could come in handy."

"we'll - we'll see," you choke out, feeling his tongue part you again, wondering if you will actually end up need ingthat makeshift gag,

he licks and suckles, providing just the right amount of pressure as you start to grind against the wet heat of his mouth.

he knows what you need from him.

"one or two?"

you don't need to ask him to clarify. "two."

"already?"

your hand flies up to cover your mouth, pleasured mewls dying in your throat.

once it passes, you let your hands drop back to your side.

well, you could ...

you could just ...

so you do; you fist your hands in his hair, soft and silky under your touch, and answer.

"already."

you feel one of his hands release from your thighs as he starts to stroke himself, low reverberations of his groans enhancing the sensation of his tongue against you.

then the other hand drifts down your waist, hips, until two fingers prod at your entrance, your wetness coating his fingertips before he can even get inside you.

his hand moves slowly while his mouth nips and suckles, your legs spreading even further to allow him room.

inch by inch he slips inside, meeting no resistance since you're ore than wet enough for two -- maybe even three --

he curls his fingers and you cry out his name.

he doesn't stop this time, though, too enraptured by the sight of his fingers disappearing through your swollen folds to deny himself anything.

the music next door is drowning out any sound you're making, you know it is. you don't want to stop for a moment.

you can't stop.

he pumps his fingers in and out as your hips roll against him, chasing the friction that you need as much as air right now.

you really think you might die without out.

you feel yourself pulse around him; he feels it as well, the way you contract when he hits that spot against your walls, and suctions his lips around your clit in the way he knows will have you coming for him more than once.

with his lips angled like this, you can feel the piercing as it shifts against you; the cold metal should probably feel jarring but it only adds to the sensitivity, a unique sensation that you now can only associate with him.

it's funny -- you haven't been seeing each other for long, only hooking up when you have the chance to go undetected -- but he already knows your tells, the signs that you're close, so close --

you barely hear it, the sound muffled and quiet by intention, but the feeling of him groaning your name as he licks into you is too much, too much, too intense a feeling for you to bear ....

your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave, washing over every nerve in your body as you spasm around his fingers, your limbs turning to jelly as you lose your grip on his hair, hands fumbling with the bedsheets to try to establish yourself.

it is neverending, an all-consuming sensation that lasts until he pulls his fingers out unceremoniously, aftershocks clenching around nothing.

your teary eyes open as you see what prompted his sudden movement

choso's brows are pinched together desperately, almost panicked, as he fists his cock, hips rocking rhythmically.

"you're gonna make me come ... fuck, fuck --"

with a cut-off moan he grips the base of his cock, coming over your stomach, coming ropes that reach your breasts, his head thrown back as his jaw clenches shut.

the sight is enough to prolong your own orgasm, faint ripples running through you even as choso's pleasure starts to ebb away.

"oh fuck," he groans once his cock stills, his chest rising and falling, his sweat-slick skin glistening as he collects himself. "fuck ... I'm sorry."

"don't be sorry," you grin up at him, having come to a sudden realisation. "from the sound of it ... utahime and her date just closed to front door, so ... looks like we have the place to ourselves."

"we do?" he half-pants, half-laughs. "how ... how long has it been since --"

"too long," you cut him off. "so we need to make up for lost time."

it's his turn to grin again, eyes scanning the mess he's made of your chest with a sense of pride.

"happily."

#choso x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #choso #may tries to write

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roe-and-memory · 4 months

Text

every time someone says cars 3 is the worst cars movie another angel punches me in the stomach and pulls my hair.

this is probably just my intense special interest in the origins of nascar, but that movie feels like such a nice send-off for the main “trilogy”, and yes people can have their own opinions but i NEED to talk about how much this movie means to me

first of all, a major misconception is that lightning quit racing - he DIDNT! this is proven by both the end of the movie (where he says hes obviously going to keep racing) and cars on the road where, in the final episode, cruz and lightning wish each other “goodbye” and say they’ll see each other on the racetrack. he was only cruz’s crew chief for that one season, presumably healing from the trauma of the crash (because lets be real his ass did not mentally recover from that in FOUR MONTHS) and also waiting for a permanent crew chief to take his place.

second.. the sheer amount of detail put into that movie is INSANE. the racing center being shaped like grandstands at a track? fireball beach being both a direct reference to the daytona beach race course and also “fireball roberts”, a 1950s racer (he was actually the reason that firesuits were mandated in the sport), we meet a bunch of 1950s racers as well and just augh.. so good. also, the detail of thomasville being in north carolina is brilliant - N.C is the “racing state”, and thomasville speedway is based off of north wilkesboro, a track that was opened in 1949, and last used in 1996 (aside from the series of races in 2010), and it fell into disrepair. (fun fact, north wilkesboro is reopening in 2024 for the nascar all star race!! they fixed my bbg)

third. cars three brings so much more lore than the first movie did. yes, we knew doc raced in the 50s when the sport was getting its start, but in cars 3? they brought in characters based off of real 1950s racers (doc is based off of herb thomas, smokey is smokey yunick, lou is louise smith, junior is junior johnson, river is wendell scott, and leroy hemming is tim flock) (another reference in the movie is “jocko flockos party supplies” as macks disguise - jocko flocko was tim flocks pet monkey that was the FIRST and only co-driver in the history of the sport. he won a race with his monkey in the car with him :) )

as i was saying, the lore we learn is insane. we learn that lou and river had to fight for their place in the sport, which is similar to what both louise smith and wendell scott experienced in the 50s, they show us accurately how racing worked back then too - they didnt have fancy pits, they had a fence and a pit member with a sign that would tell them to come in the next lap for service. all of these cars are gen 1 nascar, which means that they were strictly stock - they had much more intense pit sessions than any of the other “built for racing” generations have ever needed. i recall watching a race wherein smokey yunick had to change the radiator of one of his racers vehicles mid-race due to a crash.

this isnt everything, but seriously for an animated movie about talking cars, they discuss grief and hardships and handle them so well its insane. i know cruz isnt everyones cup of tea, but (in reference to the flip scene at the end of the movie) watching cruz get shoved into the sport must’ve been insane for lou to watch. she saw herself in that girl. it wasnt some movie about lightning giving up, it was him sharing the torch with another kid who lost their way just like he had.

also i dont cry at movies but i literally bawl my fucking eyes out at the letters scene every time. its PATHETIC (its not im literally tearing up just thinking about it)

#cars 2006 #cars fandom #lightning mcqueen #cars 3 (2017)#pixar cars #doc hudson #louise nash #i seriously love cars 3 so much man #and the animation.. augh…. ITS SO GOOD #this was so much longer than i thought it’d be oops 😭

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wol-fica · 11 months

Text

-𝕄𝕖𝕖𝕥 ℂ𝕦𝕥𝕖-

pairings - jennaortega x fem!writer!reader

summary - you got hired for a huge new gig as a script writer for season two of wednesday, the events after help you meet someone new…

warnings - none !

an - i’m alive, tell me i’m pretty

——————————

June 9th, 2023 Coachella Valley, CA: 1:27 PM

You were going to be late, exceedingly so.

You had a meeting scheduled for 1:30 PM sharp, any later would cause you to lose the job. Many times you had said that you were interested in the opening, promising to be a hard worker and wonderful staff member to the writing crew for the upcoming second season of a netflix show titled Wednesday. It was everything you could ever wish for, the job was like a dream to you.

But now, your hopes of getting to write on such an incredible show are being crushed due to many unfortunate events transpiring throughout the day.

Firstly, you woke up later than expected and had to hurry around to get yourself ready and organize your idea board that was going to be presented at the meeting. Then, the water pipe under your sink burst, causing you to have to fix it and get soaked in the process. And finally, your dryer decided to completely break down on you, which meant you needed to pull a new outfit together, which left you literally sprinting through the hallway of the building your meeting was being held at while fixing your hair to look at least decent in front of all the professionals you were going to be working with.

Soon the door to the meeting room came into view, relief washing through you when your watch stated that it was 1:29 PM. Perfect, right on time. Gathering yourself in the final few seconds you had, you brushed out a few wrinkles in your shirt and held your chin up proudly before pushing the door open and heading inside.

“There she is!” Dave, another writer, exclaimed with a smile, “I knew she would show up…eventually.”

“I’m so sorry, my morning was hectic as hell.” You apologized, setting your stuff down and taking a seat next to your other coworker named Matt.

“No biggy, you’re right on time.” Matt said to you with a smile, pushing a fresh cup of coffee in your direction.

You took it gratefully, bringing the drink to your lips to take a sip. Everyone was seated, adjusting their papers and whatnot while you waited for the show's producers to arrive.

“For how much they nip at our necks to be on time, they really don’t seem to feel the need to be punctual.” Aurora said from your right, resting her head in her hand.

“Stuck up, is the right description.” The lead writer, Elsa said, jotting down what seemed to be some final touches to her idea, “They will be here when it is convenient for them.”

A chorus of ‘mhmmm’s came from the group, everyone nodding in agreement while you stayed silent. Judgment wasn’t a huge thing for you, especially since you knew most of the producers and was familiar with how hectic their schedules can be with having the weight of the entire show’s production on their backs. Besides, the ones you have met so far are pretty friendly people, so you didn’t feel the need to act petty with their late arrival.

“How was your weekend Y/N?” Matt asked you, attempting to strike up a friendly conversation, “I noticed you look a little sunburnt.”

“Oh, yeah.” You chuckled, looking down at your slightly pink arms, “I went paddle boarding at the canal, forgot to bring sunscreen.”

“I can tell.” He said with a smile, “At least you will gain a sick tan.”

“The wonderful aftermath!” You joked, both of you laughing lightly.

Matt sucked in a breath, sipping his coffee before setting it down on the table. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the opening of the office door.

In walked the producers, all six holding script copies and large binders full of each writer's bullet-note ideas for the next season of the show. You knew three by name, two by face, and one you have never seen before. Well, never seen was a lie, you of course have witnessed the incredible Jenna Ortega and her infamous role as THE Wednesday Addams, but you had never formally met her. The most interaction you have had together was at the premiere for season one; you were dragged along by Elsa so you could see what you were up against, and you happened to be sitting two seats away from Jenna, who had given you a curt nod when Elsa introduced you to Tim.

“Hello everyone!” Max said, one of the two executive producers, “Sorry for being late, our meeting went longer than expected.”

“No big deal.” Dave replied, standing to shake his hand politely, “We weren’t going to start without you anyways.”

“Let’s get started shall we?” Max said, looking around the table before pausing when he saw you, “Oh Y/N! Glad you made it!”

You shyly waved, a small smile on your face as many eyes went to you, “I’m glad to be here.”

“I’ve read some of your scripts before, very impressive in my opinion.” Another producer, face but no name, said with an approving nod.

“Thank you.” You replied, an embarrassing blush covering your cheeks.

“Okay! So let’s go over some things…” Max said, flipping open his binder.

Most of the meeting went smoothly, the producers listening intently to each writer's ideas for the upcoming season. You nodded and replied to questions, occasionally writing down notes here and there to store for a revision of your script. You were currently nose deep in your writing, scribbling down a few dialogue changes for a random scene you came across.

“Y/N, what about you?” Elsa asked suddenly, startling you into accidentally throwing your pencil behind you.

“Oh, um..” You set your script down, sitting up a little straighter, “Well I thought of a bit of a different approach for this season, it’s more character focused than scene directed.”

“Focused on what?”

“Well,” You cleared your throat, “I thought of dropping the whole love triangle idea, I never imagined Wednesday being interested in boys or girls while solving a murder, that didn’t make sense to me.”

You felt a sudden confidence with your words, the talk of your idea shredding away at your anxiety.

“To me, she should definitely be a lot more gruesomely funny. Bring some more gore, some more horror, some more dead things because that is what makes Wednesday so likable to the viewers. Get rid of all the boy talk and all that, I think she should be more toned to focusing on her stalker and whatever else comes with her junior year.”

“And get rid of the sappy lines.” You finished, shaking your head at the thought of some, “No offense Elsa.”

“None taken, I stay up every night hating myself for writing it.” She joked, causing everyone to laugh.

While she, Max, and one of the other executive producers talked some more about which script to choose, you started to feel a gaze burrowing into the side of your skull. Turning to your right, your eyes caught big brown ones, full of curiosity and interest as they stared at you.

It was Jenna, her focus on you instead of the others' conversation on the final decisions for the second season. You felt a little vulnerable under her stare, so you gave her a friendly smile and a little wave, a silent “hello!”.

She immediately smiled back, recuperating your wave with a beaming look. Her dimples appeared when she did that, catching your attention of how her nose seemed to scrunch up and how her eyes squinted in just the slightest way that made her look very cute.

“Okay! I think that wraps up the meeting!” Max said enthusiastically, closing his binder and standing up, “Head home everyone!”

You sighed, happy to be done with work for the day. You began to gather your things, packing them into your bag and scooping your pile of notes and scripts into your arms. Matt came up beside you, handing you your pencil that you previously threw behind you.

“Don’t forget that.” He said, grinning.

“How could I?” You sneered, adjusting your bag on your back, “Are you going out with Megan again?”

He nodded, then pulled out his phone and showed that he was getting a phone call. He waved goodbye to you, heading out the door and down the hallway. You slowly followed suit, the weight of your backpack and papers making you a tad bit slower. As you walked towards the exit, a tap on your shoulder made you turn around.

It was Jenna, sporting a friendly smile.

“Hi!” She said enthusiastically, holding out a hand for you to shake, “I'm Jenna, I've been trying to meet you for some time now.”

“Oh wow!” You joked, somehow taking her hand without dropping your papers, “I’m Y/N, and I didn’t know you were waiting or I would’ve come and said hi.”

“I still like to introduce myself even if people know me, it’s how I was raised.” Jenna said, slightly rocking on her heels.

“How formal of you.” You said, grinning, “Did you just want to say hi orrrrr…”

“Oh! No, I wanted to ask if you had any plans for today…?” She asked shyly, a hopeful expression on her face.

��Not that I know of, why?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me?”

You seemed to restart, your mind going blank at her words. Was she asking you to hang out? Jenna Ortega wants to hang out with you?

“Uh..I mean- well…” You started to stutter, a blush climbing up your neck, “Of fucking course!”

Jenna giggled, hiding her mouth while she laughed. You scratched the back of your neck, admiring her features yet again. She was incredibly gorgeous, and you didn’t even feel ashamed when you gazed at her moving lips.

“How does Panera sound?”

You smiled wide, your eyes lighting up at the name of your favorite restaurant. Jenna laughed yet again at your reaction, covering her mouth with her hand.

“That sounds fucking amazing.” You said, shifting your weight on your feet.

“Great!” Jenna replied, adjusting the papers in her hands, her head turning back to you, “Does 3:30 work? I have another meeting in like 15 minutes.”

“That’s perfect.” You almost mumbled, your eyes on her lips again.

Jenna smirked.

You blushed at being caught.

“I’ll see you then, cute girl.”

And then she was gone.

As soon as she was out of sight and earshot, you squealed and danced in a circle, doing a little happy dance.

A lunch date, with Jenna fucking Ortega.

Couldn’t get any better than this.

—————————

hi :)

taglist: @crystal-lily-101 @tundra1029 @house-of-lovin @rainbow-love4ever @imhungry-andtired @theafterofnevermore @k1mba @simp4thena @thenextdawn @alexkolax @annalestern @efectoangel @fall-08 @andsoigotabutterfly @littlegaybutterflysblog @sayaisrotten @deep-fried-egg @frasersgf @thispussyshouldcomew @rollingsins @somekindofpoet

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jennaortegaedit #jenna ortega #jenna #jenna ortega fluff #ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you

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sorceresski · 11 months

Text

Moments together - Ruben Dias

(plus bonus IG post)

Pairing: Ruben Dias x reader

Summary: In which you celebrate winning the UCL with our favourite cb

Arriving at the stadium ahead of the match it felt like deja vu. The last time you had attended a ucl final, you had left heartbroken. A few nights before, Ruben had confided in you. But he didn’t even need to, his nerves were palpable.

He’d lost the final before and it had made him even more determined. But this time was different, a treble was on the line.

“I’m worried.” He was laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling in the dark room. “We’ve achieved so much this season and it would all look pointless if we lose this final again.”

You let him talk, reassure him, hold him to sleep, by the next morning he was gone. He had a plane to catch to Istanbul.

Now, you felt those butterflies in your stomach, like you were going out onto the field as well. You stood with his family in a sea of sky blue and watched him step onto the field with his teammates.

Your vision blurred as the ref blew the final whistle. His brother was shaking you but your eyes were fixed to where Ruben had fallen to his knees in the middle of the pitch.

The next moments were a blur. Deep hugs with his family and the other wags. The team lifted the trophy while you and his family made your way down from the stands.

“Y/n!” He called when he saw you, arms wide, waiting for you with a huge smile on his face. You broke into a run to cover the distance between you two and he lifted you effortlessly, like he didn’t spend the last 90 minutes running up and down the pitch. You threw your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around him.

Nothing and no one else mattered in that moment. It was just you and him. You buried your head in his neck, fingers threading into his damp hair. He was sweaty, the medal was cold and hard against your chest but it didn’t matter.

“I’m so proud of you.” You pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Te amo,” was his response.

“Save some for the rest of us,” his brother joked as he and Ruben’s parents finally caught up to you. He set you down and gave them each equally deep hugs.

You felt the love you had for him swell in that moment, like you could burst.

Days later, after the celebrations had died down, you’d often catch him staring at the newest addition to his trophy shelf. He took any excuse to walk past the medal multiple times a day.

“I’m starting to think I’m the second best thing in your life,” you’d huff playfully.

youruser

Liked by rubendias, erlinghaaland, ivandias and 4535 others

youruser Passion has led you to victory. With you every step of the way. I’m very proud of you my love 💙😘

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Rubendias l love you❤️

yourbestfriend what a night!

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A/n: sorry this is quite short, I just had to get this out❤️‍🔥

CTID!💙

#ruben dias imagine #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #footballer imagines #football fic #ruben dias #man city #footballer fic

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neopuppy · 2 years

Text

Beatbox (M)

preview: “Hey hey, you a new transfer?”

The boy next to you appears horrified, offended with his jaw hung loose. Round eyes more pronounced behind bifocal frames, he splutters, licking at his prominent two front teeth. “I’ve been in this class all year! You transferred into my grade! 10 years ago!”

“Huh?” You shrug, prodding the inside of your cheek in thought. “Really? Weird.”

“Y-yo-you have to be joking!”

“Anyway,” you flick his chin, smirking. “I need a tutor.”

pairing: Jaemin x female reader

word count: 6k+

genre: college AU, nerdy Jaemin, y/n a meanie, crackish, one shot, it’s filth…yay nana day🥳💕

smut warnings: switching, oral, grappling(headlocks, chokeholds, thigh crushing, full nelson, pinning, etc), degradation, competitive rough sex, breeding, spit, use of ‘bunny’, submission

‘If you fail your political history course, I have to sit you out for the upcoming season.’

“Who even studies this shit.” The sheet filled with requirements to continue competing with your varsity wrestling team wrinkles between your fingers.

Three of your courses blared at you, circled with vibrant red sharpie to add more threat behind your coaches words.

‘If you don’t pick up your fucking slack asap, say goodbye to competing in the championship finals.’

No amount of kicking at your locker and swinging your backpack around on your way to class assisted in relieving any of your frustration.

If only you had a dick, fat chance any guy on the boys wrestling team had to worry about their grades. Everyone knew the dean favored his beloved male athletes, bragged and boasted about across states through various top leading universities.

“A tutor” you murmur, rolling your eyes. Reprimanded and put on time-out until you have at the least found a tutor. Either miss out on one of the biggest tournaments in the upcoming weeks, or get your ass a tutor to help you pass your mid-terms.

Someone smart, obviously, a full fledged nerd with their nose buried in a book.

Hmm, no, not Renjun… he hadn’t even made top of your class last year.

Definitely not that pervert Haechan that got caught behind the bleachers jerking off..

Glancing around, you begin to weigh your options.

Jeno, he’s a brain, but he still had tape holding his glasses together after you snapped them in half two months ago. His fault for getting in your way and making you late to practice.

A bleached blonde head of hair and a pile of books masking your potential essential nerd grabs your eye.

The communist manifesto hovers before his face, allowing you enough of a view of thin rimmed silver lenses and eyebrows furrowed deep in concentration. Sneakily you move over to the closest seat near him, silently rejoicing when you spot a pocket protector sitting on his chest.

Perfect.

“Hey hey, you a new transfer?”

“Huh?” You shrug, prodding the inside of your cheek in thought. “Really? Weird.”

“Y-yo-you have to be joking!”

“Anyway,” you flick his chin, smirking. “I need a tutor.”

The blonde before you grows more indignant, fumbling to set a bookmark in place and fully turn to face you.

“Why would I help you?!” He scoffs, pushing his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose. “You pulled down my pants at our 8th grade dance! In front of the entire school!”

“That was you?!”

“And then you poured punch on me! And told everyone I pissed myself!” He stammers, tapping one of his loafers with each shake of his leg.

“There’s no way that was you!” You giggle, waving him off. “That was this dork Jaem—“

“Jaemin!” He hisses, ripping off his glasses to fix you with a steely look. “Me!”

“Oh my god?? Why are you blonde?” You snort, reaching to stroke the peach fuzz decorating the side of his face. “You need to bleach this too furball.”

Jaemin rustles, smacking your hand away with his lips pursed together, appearing more and more perturbed by everything you say. “Don’t touch me!”

Letting out a sarcastic filled coo you lean in closer, pinching at his cheek. “Aw, did I upset the bunny?”

His eyelids push so far back that you’re surprised when his eyes stay put, expecting for them to fall out and bounce on his notebook.

“What did you just call me?” He says incredulously, grasping onto your wrist tightly.

“Damn, this nerd has some strength,” you cringe, shaking him off. Weakly punching at his arm only to feel overtaken with disbelief again, digging a finger in as you pout wondering why he feels so firm, too firm for a nerd..

“I said stop touching me!” He glowers, forcefully ripping your arm away. “Go away! I do not want to help you in any way!”

“Aw come onnnn, pleaseeee bunny?”

“Stop calling me that!” He hisses, inching closer to speak sternly. “Why do you keep calling me that?!”

Sticking out the top row of your teeth, you tap at the first two and proceed to form bunny ears with your index and middle finger. “You act like one too, vicious and temperamental..”

“Listen,” he snaps before your face, nearly chopping your nose in the process. “I am not going to tutor you! and stop calling me a bunny!”

Hope seems lost until you notice a crimson flush spiking up from his nape. Jaemin’s gaze bounces, clearing his throat as he reaches for his book, faint shades of pink burn at his cheeks, reaching up to the corners of his nose.

“Aww, you like it!” You laugh, scooting closer for your leg to drape over his. “Hear me out bunny, if you help me out, I’ll help you out.”

“I don’t need nor want your help.” He mutters, refusing to meet your stare any longer. Aware of the blush taking over his face destroying the facade he continues on with.

“That’s not true, and you know how I know that?”

Sighing, his chin dips in, frustrated by his curious subconscious. “How.”

“Who else was going to let you know that your fuzzy sideburns give away that the curtains do not match the drapes?” You joke, digging your elbow into his side. Breaking into a round of giggles at the sight of his front teeth poking out again with his mouth hung open.

“Listen, bunny boy, my coach is up my ass about finding a tutor. Just swing by at the end of practice so I can tell him someone with a 4.0 gpa has agreed to help me.” You plead, squeezing at his arm again with confusion. “Why do you feel like that?”

Jaemin throws a hissy fit, shimmying out of your grip once again while snarling in a much too cute way for you to take seriously. “No! Now go away you damn cretin!”

“Hear me out!” You grunt, rolling your eyes. “I know the captain of the football team gives you a swirly every Monday morning.”

Jaemin’s jaw drops yet again, beginning to hate himself for not just getting up and moving away. Starting to find one of your bullies attractive had to make him sick in the head somehow. “Why do you know that?! You just asked me if I transferred!”

“Uh.. selective memory.” You shrug, playing it off with a wide smile. “Anyway, what if I can get him to stop?”

His ears perk up at that, flitting a shifty gaze your way. “You can’t.”

“Oh, trust me, I can. He’s wanted me to suck his dick since the first day of Uni.” You nod mischievously, wiggling your eyebrows.

Jaemin slumps deeper into his seat, contemplating how late it’s making him, having to rush to lecture after rinsing and restyling his hair.

“You know, toilet water is terrible for a fried bleached scalp.”

“My hair is not fried!” He barks, nose scrunched up adorably in irritation.

“You’re right, it looks great..” you note, testing a silky tuft of locks between two fingers. “Kind of weird for a nerd to care this much about his looks though..”

Jaemin jerks away, glaring at you for the name. “Applying for internships has been hard..”

“Ahh, well the blonde looks great on you at least.” Giving him a thumbs up, you invade his space once again. “So, how about it? No more toilet diving if you tutor me??”

He sighs again, expression full of thought as he pouts and aggressively taps at the end of his pen.

“Fine.” His shoulders drop, feeling tense and uncomfortable by the proximity you’ve kept up for much for too long at his side now. Not missing the way your fingers kneaded at his bicep earlier or the intrigued ‘hmm’ tickling at the back of your throat.

“Great! Come by the gym at 4!”

Jaemin trudges toward the gym hall, retelling the memories of his first year when Haechan had convinced him to join him and peep on the girls wrestling team practice from behind the bleachers.

His throat dries, regretting every life decision he’s ever made as he steps inside and spots you choking another girl down onto the ground under your armpit. Deeply swallowing, he settles at the corner of the bleachers uncomfortably. Unable to even pretend that he’s not fascinated by the way you grunt and scream like a wild animal with a mouthguard in as you throttle your opponent down.

Jaemin hates the way he has to tug at his collar, clearing his throat while blinking away to calm his excitement. This was all Haechan’s fault, always going on about how hot wrestling porn is, especially when the girl in the video starts off strong only to lose and get annihilated by a huge cock.

“I’ve never wanted anything more.” His friend said while peering through small open spaces from behind a set of bleachers. “Look at that one.”

Haechan nudges his chin in your direction, grappling down your opponent with a shout and slamming your fists on your chests like a beast. “Bet she would be so fun to fucking ruin.”

Jaemin hates that his friend was right. Even now as he watches you jump up from the ground showing off your flexibility with a cocky grin; he can’t help but think about it. How exhilarating and hot it would be to experience you trying to take him down. Fight him with that same smile stretching your mouth in a crass way, disgusting how full of yourself you are. The way you walk around thinking you’re hot shit and no one can touch you.

Too deep in his head, Jaemin manages to miss you walking right up to him. Shaking out of his thoughts as you let out a boisterous obnoxious laugh and point at his lap.

“Are you seriously fucking hard from watching me practice!?” You shout out much too loud, humiliating him as your teammates all glance over and begin to laugh.

“Ugh. Fucking nerds are all the same.” Your friend taunts passing by on her way to the locker room. “Just like that other one that thinks we can’t hear him busting a nut behind the bleachers.”

Punching at his shoulder, you laugh more, clutching your stomach and wiping at tears before they can run down your cheeks. “That’s so cute bunny, you wanna wrestle me or something?”

Jaemin’s mouth opens. Opens and slams shut repeatedly, lost for words as he drags a heated gaze over your sweat soaked uniform. Spending too much time admiring the fold between your thighs wedged up nicely between your…

“Dude, what the fuck? Quit staring at my vag like that.” You punch him again, whistling for your coach to come over and meet your ‘tutor’.

Jaemin jumps up, standing by your side with false confidence. “Maybe I do!”

“What was that now, bunny?”

“Stop calling me that!” He huffs, balling up his fist. “I could wrestle you, and I’ll beat you.”

“Excuse me?!” You snort, fixing him with amused wide eyes. “Are you serious right now?”

“I am.” He says, nodding and pursing his lips to appear tough. “If you pass your mid-term, then you owe me a match.”

Nerves rise fast as your coach approaches, spluttering, too stunned to think over what he’s said. “You have a thing for girls beating your ass?”

Jaemin’s nose twitches, eyes thinning as he shoves against your side. “We have a deal or what?”

“Fine!” You panic, rushed to answer while waving at your coach. “I got a tutor!”

Between fake smiles and quickly falsifying study sessions, you end up actually taking on tutoring lessons.

“Why do you have a wrestling mat in your basement?” Jaemin asks one day, following you through your house to the second room you have taken over for practice purposes.

“The better to wrestle you with.” You wink, nudging his side. “I’m studying hard just to whoop your cute blonde bunny ass.”

“What happens if I lose?” Jaemin questions, cracking his toes against the wrestling mat laid out in your basement.

“What do you mean ‘what if?’, you still think you have even the slightest chance to beat me?” You sneer. Too cocky for your own good as you squat with your legs stretched to loosen your hips. Predicting you will need the extra help if things go as you’ve planned.

Jaemin’s gaze shifts, bouncing around the room he’s helped you study in over the past couple of weeks. Toying with the zipper cool against his throat as he realizes how ridiculous this situation is.

“Listen, I don’t think this is a good idea.” He reiterates, briskly eyeing the loose sweats hiding what he assumes is your spandex wrestling uniform.

“It’s okay to lose, bunny.“ you wink, standing up to discard the zip-up hoodie covering up a skin-tight fitted one piece. Snug in all the right places to have his throat visibly bob the second he spots your smooth skin, lathered in lotion you noticed he seemed to enjoy the scent of the last time you wore it during a study session.

“I’ll go easy on you.” With a coy smile you shove down your bottoms just enough to give him peeks of your naked hips. The majority of the lycra fabric has bunched up, riding up your ass in a lewd way that makes Jaemin clear his throat, averting his focus to the ground.

“I truly have no idea how you passed your mid-term.” Jaemin rolls his eyes, stretching back his shoulders as he reaches to unzip his sweater.

The prideful grin bunching your cheeks slowly falls apart, drooping comically the more he unveils planes of flesh; sculpted and carved to perfection from long hours spent lifting weights.

Jaemin lets his jacket slip down his arms, standing proud with a blank face as your jaw hangs. It takes more restraint than he imagined to control the twitch pinching at his mouth, avoiding the intense stare tracing from his lengthy throat, pronounced Adam’s apple, broad shoulders and thick chest trapped between bulging biceps.

“What the fuck.” You announce, breathlessly. “What the fuck dude?!”

Jaemin shrugs, breaking into a smile that scrunches his nose, pushing his glasses up higher between his brows. “You’ll go easy on me, right?”

Jaemin’s buff. A fucking buff nerd that’s never once mentioned that he took up absorbing protein shakes like water and bulking up at the gym after long days filled with studying and schoolwork.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin before your tongue can loll out like a thirsty dog. “Try not to look so shocked, it’s kind of rude.”

“Why—” you gulp, finally snapping out of it enough to toe off your sweats and kick them aside. “Why the fuck are you this yolked?!”

Jaemin shrugs, unzipping his bottoms to further make you shrivel, lowering his jeans to show off the tiniest pair of spandex shorts. They dig into his upper thigh, cutting at the flexed muscle framing the thick shape between.

“Oh come on!”

He chuckles, bending over to strip the rest of his clothing off. Balling up his outfit to throw aside, he stands straight in all his glory, cut and ripped leading up to a soft round face and doe eyes, front teeth digging into his lower lip.

“You’re fucking with me.” You utter, cleaning off imaginary drool from your chin.

“Not yet..” Jaemin cocks a brow, cracking his neck side to side. “I got tired of not fighting back, so I started working out.”

He shrugs, done explaining more when he recalls that you are one of the many who tormented him over the years. Making fun of him without care, invisible to you unless it was to pick on him.

“That makes sense.” You murmur to yourself, kicking out your legs before settling in a lowered stance, preparing to take down your larger opponent. “Guess I won’t be taking it very easy on you after all.”

“Won’t you spare me?” He smirks, bending at his knees with his arms lifting to grab you and tackle you down.

Jaemin gulps to contain his nerves, thankful for the shadow falling on his glasses beneath the dim lighting fanned throughout the room. His throats already began to dry, flitting over your breasts obscenely squeezed out, shoved together creating perfect perky fat mounds ready to be choked between his fingers.

Time to size up your competitor goes to complete shit. Jaemin’s thick beyond comprehension. Corded muscles strain up his thighs to narrow hips and a tight little waist dipping in such an absurd way. His frame widens ridiculously, more ridiculous than the situation you’ve put yourself in as a mere joke.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

Licking at your lips, you begin to circle him, following suit as he mimics your motions.

Inhaling a deep breath, you meet his gaze, lowering your chin for intimidation. “Hey, Jaemin.”

“Huh?”

You almost feel sorry attacking his weak spot by throwing him off. It’s playing dirty, but you know there’s no better way to get him plastered on his back. Tackled down onto the mat with your face buried in his chest, Jaemin lets out a gust of air. Caught off guard as you ram him down in one fell swoop.

He grunts, the back of his head bouncing off the mat; realizing he should have suffered itchy burning eyeballs and opted for contact lenses today.

“Amateur,” you groan, tethering his forearms together. Each muscle lining your back screams, flexing as you attempt to take control by slotting your hips against his. “Shouldn’t be s-so cocky—“

Jaemin growls, huffing out another breath to blow his bangs off of his forehead. Jerking his hips up to jostle your weight to the side brings on instant regret, muffling a curse by locking his lips. His cock fattens, searing heat pulses from the tip of his length to his navel.

“F-fuck,” you grit, pressing harder onto his crossed arms until his chest caves. “Playing dirty won’t help you win.”

Jaemin’s breath lodges, clenching the backs of his teeth as he bends his knees. His heels dig into the mat, hoisting up with more force until you topple over and lose your balance, fast as he escapes your grip and grabs onto your shoulders and plants your back flat.

“Playing dirty?” He asks, licking at his front teeth.

Jaemin circles your thighs, pushing them open to space an area for himself between your legs. He hovers near your lips, glasses slipping lower, just above the tip of his nose. “Like you distracting me with your entire ass out? What the fuck are you even wearing, huh?”

“Get off of me!” You say with clamped teeth, only bringing amusement to his face as his biceps bracket your head. “This is a normal uniform!”

“Yeah,” he laughs, using the end of your nose to set his glasses back into place. His hips roll, a focused control freezing your lower half down as his knees burn against the mat, turning sticky with moisture secreting. “A normal uniform for some slut doing wrestling porn. That’s what this is for you, isn’t it?”

He finishes the question with a pointed grind, cock nestled against your clothed core further burying the material of your suit between your folds. “Between the two of us, you know who lacks brains here.”

Jaemin’s gaze darkens, lowering closer until his bottom lip runs between the seam of your mouth. Fitting together deliciously, wet from sweat gathering on both of your upper lips and saliva clinging to the tips of your tongues.

He can feel it, hot and humid against his groin. Your pussy spreading over his shorts, clit incessantly rubbing on your suit with each little shift.

“Ugh, f-fucking nerd.” Squeezing your eyes shut, you struggle by jostling your lower half as much as you can. Barely fazing him as he licks down your chin, forming a trail of drool down to the middle of your neck hollowing in for him to lap at. The sweat pooled there tastes savory at first, hit by a bitter aftertaste from the alcohol in your scented lotion. Fitting for you, sour and sweet as you’ve acted with him.

“Call me a nerd again.” He pushes up, causing your eyebrows to twist as his chest pumps out. Pecs hard as a rock, nipples pointed like icicles despite the heat gathering between your bodies. “See what happens.”

“Oooh, s-so scared,” you choke, Jaemin grabbing onto your throat when you try to sit up and shove him off. “I’ll break your glasses, see how tough you f-feel.”

Your taunting only eggs him on, ferociously pushing his side against your inner thigh until your centers fully exposed for him to press three digits against your exposed folds. Gliding up to pinch your suit around your clit until your feet slip and you kick at the mat.

“Get this wet for a fucking nerd huh?” He jeers, rolling your bundle of nerves under the damp fabric. “Maybe that’s why you bullied me, wanted me to fuck that bratty better-than-you attitude out of you.”

All you can do is struggle, attempting to dislodge your throat from his menacing hold, only seeping his fingers further into the veins rapidly pulsating up the sides of your neck.

“If only it had been the other way around,” he goes on mocking, blurring over your clit faster and faster until you’re coughing between trapped moans. “Imagine if I bullied you, getting your revenge on me years later by cornering me and fucking me until I’m incapable or forming a sentence.”

His speech lands on muted ears, passing through a thick fog of arousal that clogs up your senses, too focused on how thick his forearm looks. The veins rippling upward toward his meaty bicep shout at you, pumping full of anger with each flick of his wrist.

“You’re right, I got hard watching you practice.” He confesses, turning his hips for you to feel his chubbed up girth against your inner thigh. “Wanna know why?”

Gurgling escapes you, licking at the roof of your mouth to suppress another embarrassing sound from passing. He laughs, sharp teeth gleaming as they catch the light. “Because..”

Gathering the seat of your bottoms, he tugs at the material with a balled up fist. Ripping roughly at it to make you writhe and squeal in pain, burning against your clit with each pull. “This is why, to see you like this. So fucking full of yourself, but you can’t even pass a stupid test without a nerds help.”

Mesmerized by your folds swelling up around your suit, Jaemin’s waist bends in, momentarily forgetting about his grip on your neck; just enough to give you leeway to push up on your elbows and regain control.

It’s easy to pin Jaemin down again, startling him with power he wished to assume you lack. He curses when you fling him down roughly and mount his chest. Gathering fistfuls of his sweaty blonde locks, you rip at his scalp until he’s whining, elongated neck arched back releasing an obscene moan between his pretty pink lips. Ragged breath spills from your chest, working hard to maneuver forward until your inner thighs clap against his cheeks. Slotting your suit aside too fast for Jaemin to even let out a gasp of surprise.

Smashing your core down against his mouth sends a hiss flying out of you, grinding down hard despite the ridges of his teeth scraping along your clit. He muffles, flailing beneath you, glasses fogged up with slick and heat radiating from your lower half. A relieved laugh sounds, nodding as you work to crush your thighs around him to a suffocating point.

“Bunny talks tough—“ you grit, gyrating against his tongue until he groans. Losing your train of thought once again when his tongue curves, applying pressure against your entrance until you give. Loosening up and relaxing enough to push through. “Fuck.”

Jaemin can’t complain, even as he struggles to breathe through his nose, stuffed full of your clit rubbing incessantly against him. He’s crazed, determined to stretch his jaw until it breaks under your unforgiving thrusts.

Behind your back his knees bend, angling his hips up to fuck at nothing but air. Desperate as he slaps a merciless grip on your ass, repeating it until you get the message to ride his tongue.

Securing one hand on his head, you pull harder, using the hold to control your motions. His tongue wiggling between your walls while passing vibrating grunts, raspy broken whimpers. The unexpected slap you deliver between his thighs has him coughing, choking and screaming finding it impossible to swallow a long enough breath.

“Little b-bunny can’t even handle f-fighting a girl can he?” You scramble to taunt him, whimpering as he manages to dislodge his tongue and suck on your clit. Spreading your ass apart to have your hole pulse open against his chin as he uses every inch of his face to rub and flick. Messy, fucking disgusting with a pleased gleam hiding under splattered lenses.

Jaemin’s teeth nip, lapping side to side on your clit before he wraps his lips again. A mean suck and nimble digits digging in too close to your rim have you toppling forward. A shouted moan expelling as you whine and bounce down to fully release your orgasm on his chin and neck.

White haze takes over the room, brain spinning too much to process being manhandled onto your back. Only between a coughed whimper do you come down, blinking up to find Jaemin above you, grasping your ankles above your head with a devilish smirk playing at his lips.

“You think I give up that easily? That was child’s play.” He taunts, pushing hard abdominal muscles against your exposed puffy cunt. Rough and grating as he passes from the thick line of dark hair trailing down inside of his shorts. A silent gasp emits as he grinds against your ass, hoisted off the mat the more he tests your flexibility, continuing to push and push until you’re folded in half.

Lazily you blink, reaching between your upper halves to scrape at his chest. Tweaking and pinching at one of his hardened nipples. With clenched teeth he takes advantage of your drunk-like post orgasmic state, releasing an ankle and replacing his hold with a hard bite. Sharp canine teeth sink near your tendon, shaking his head to make you shout and whimper louder. Free hand making use of your moment of weakness to release his erect length.

“Know what mean girls like you need?” He says between licking at teeth marks left behind on your ankle. Stroking to the tip of his length as he directs himself between your dripping wet folds. Sliding up and down for you to go crosseyed, stupid dumb just from feeling how fucking thick and wide he is.

“B-bunny..”

He doesn’t give you a chance to say more, penetrating with one fluid practiced motion. Years of masturbating and studying porn only served to build up his knowledge. Practicing what he learned with any girl who would give him the opportunity at science camp over the last few summers.

“Thick fucking cock to shut you up.” Finishing his sentence with a choked growl, he grinds, adding emphasis by giving you each inch.

The moan that rips from your chest says it all.

Full, so full. Thick, so fucking thick.

He’s bigger than any popular jerk you’ve fucked at frat parties. Obscenely stretching you out, split open and so unbelievably full.

“Aww,” he tries to mock, unable to stop himself from pressing in balls deep. Pressed deep enough for coarse dark hairs to scratch against your clit in the position. Folded in half and dwarfed beneath his massive size, both of his hands snake around your ankles, using his rocking hips to aid the push he gives. Your calves surround you, burning up the backs of your thighs from tight tendons working overtime.

“Weak. Nothing but a hole to take my cock.” Regaining some semblance at the visual of tears beginning to pour freely down your cheeks, Jaemin arches back, burying his knees into the mat to hit your hard with a pointed thrust.

Pinning you down with every muscle straining in his arms, he fills you to the brim. Cock too thick, nestling past any squeeze you give, any push the muscles inside of you use to suffocate his length.

“Don’t s-stop,” you choke, eyeing where he continues to dive in and out. His cock glistens coated in thick amounts of wetness, globs of it stuck on the patch of hair at the base. Wet, filthy and so fucking wet everywhere.

“So fucking greedy, full of cock and still you want more?” He spits, licking at saliva dribbling down his chin. “Want me to fill you up? Breed you like nothing but a stupid little cum dump.”

“Uh huh..” no amount of humiliation burning up your chest can deny how good it feels. Unwilling to even struggle or bother to get away from his hips pummeling forward. Hiccups and coughed sobs assist the rapid nod you give him, too overwhelmed to even picture how much Jaemin can give you.

He wishes he could laugh, but you feel too good, too perfect. The tip of his length catches on your convulsing hole with each draw back. It’s too much for you to even look at, witnessing the tip lifting at the skin covering your mound. Feeling deeper than what you can even actually see, as if his cock can reach the back of your throat with every thrust he gives you.

“Pl-please bunny..” you babble, worrying your bottom lip, fingers twitching for something. Finding his shoulders to weakly scratch at, dragging down to the cut his bicep muscle creates. “I-inside, please..”

Jaemin groans, circling his hips in a more meticulous manner. Cock dragging against your walls in a way that sends your toes curling. Legs trembling, nearly ripping free of his hold when he hits you just right, cockhead kissing your cervix with ease, hitting the perfect angle each time.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

Maintaining his hold to keep you bent in half somehow, Jaemin fucks faster, ruthless and harsh, encouraged by your babbling and whines. Thrust after thrust harder than the previous, ripping his chest and abdominal muscles to appear carved out of stone with all the more vigor he utilizes to fuck you like you need and beg for.

“Ahhh…fuck!” Jaemin’s voice comes out strangled, using every bit of his strength to keep fucking you even as you lock up around him. Gripping a powerful orgasm around his cock, the pressure, push and pull almost forcing his cock to slip out. Gushed around, so wet and sloppy, spilling release down to his balls.

Despite your shrieks, he only manages to go even faster. Blurry above you as he pounds through your orgasm, gritting and panting similar to one of your opponents by the end of a long match. Rumbling from deep within his chest as he meets your eyes, glasses dropping off, tightening up when you find his blown out pupils.

Jaemin cums, cock thrumming violently with each hot drop of release bursting free, filling you up and up until he has to curse. Removing his hold as his broad shoulders tremble, absorbing the heat between your bodies through tremors rolling up his tense back muscles.

That’s enough, you think, rolling away in search of a towel to wipe yourself with. Whining when your hip lets out a nasty crack, you knew that pre-stretch would be needed, but not this much.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A lowered voice asks, shivering up your spine as you whimper, burning where your wet thighs rub against the mat feebly attempting to crawl away.

“N-no no m-more..”

Jaemin laughs, worse than an evil villain from any movie or show. Slow to walk on his knees over your pathetic excuse of getting away. He hauls your arms back, clicking his tongue with a breathless chuckle. “This will teach you to fuck with nerds.”

Burying back inside of you aches more than you can comprehend, imagining your brain exploding and spilling out of your ears as he rolls down. Cock sunk in to the hilt, gushing out the release he just filled you with. His size too much for you to hold both in, slick, wet, and so fucking loud with each draw back and slap of his hips.

“Jaemin!” It’s your first time wailing out his name, not missing a beat as he picks up the pace. His chest falls against your back knocking air out of your lungs, more determined to ruin you on his cock again. Make you regret the day you first saw him and made the worst decision to fuck with him.

“Where’s your cute bunny now?” He asks against your ear, watching your eyes roll back into your head. Biting at your jaw, he reaches around, budging his bicep against your chin. Hips snap brutally into you, pulling you into a death inducing chokehold roughly. He pulls harder, making your chest shove out and waist dip in until you’re bent far back, slapping one hand against the mat.

“You give up?!” He grunts against your cheek, jostling your throat with a shake of his arm. Tongue hanging out panting, you reach for his wrist, scurrying to hold onto anything you can.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A quiet cry and suppressed choke follows your palm smacking the mat with repeated motion. In disbelief by the sound of grunts, flesh clapping against flesh, popping wet and nasty with each smooth glide of Jaemin’s cock filling you up without losing any speed.

“Fuck,” his eyes squeeze, stomach muscles contracting with each unforgiving thrust further dragging you up the mat. Chasing after his next release, Jaemin runs for the victory by throwing his other arm around your neck, further pulling you into a headlock. Groaning by how much wetter you get, purging out more and more arousal with every ripple of his bicep against your jaw.

“That’s right.” He starts, blinking away sweat that won’t stop raining down, getting trapped in his long eyelashes. “Never forget how you let a nerd beat you.”

Another weak tap and pinch on his wrist has you cumming, arching high enough to nearly make him lose his rhythmic pace. Using powerful thigh muscles to push up and hit you with thrusts hard enough to have your heart beating out past your chest.

Slam after merciless slam turns messy, hips swerving pushing past your cunt gripping and milking for him to cum again. Give you the warm load to keep inside this time, greedily squeezing around him for another.

The squeaky cracked moan Jaemin lets out has your eyes rolling to the side, pleased that even after all of his tough talk, you can still weaken him somehow.

Tapping on his forearm finally gives you a chance to take deep breaths, only to be plastered by his limp dead weight collapsing onto you.

“So,” Jaemin breathes, wet chest heavily panting against your back. He bites at your nape, hoisting your chin up with his forearm perched under your jaw. “What’s my prize?”

“Ugh..” nothing more than a lazy response pours out of you. Continuing to reel and shiver under the weight melting you down into the ruined mat covered in every type of bodily fluid. “Whatever.”

If not for the chokehold around your throat, you’d knock out in less than a second. Thoroughly fucked and ran through by the same nerd that you once picked on and made cry for a laugh. The irony doing more to make your gut curl in with renewed arousal as you lock up around him.

“What was that? Whatever, huh?” He has the audacity to let out a fake chuckle, rumbling at the top of your spine. Free arm reaching down to push between your connected lower halves as he lifts to create space. “In that case..”

Jaemin’s index finger slips past bruises forming on your backside. Teasing as he pushes between your ass and traces your puckered rim. He pops free from your ruined hole, kissing at the backs of his teeth as a pool of cum bubbles out; settling in the shape of a perfect triangle at the top of your squished together thighs.

Prodding at your hole, Jaemin bites away a smile when you squirm and whimper, turning to give him a look full of excitement and fear. He meets your gaze with maniacal thrill, pushing his pouty lips together to create a faucet for a thick wad of spit to pour, landing directly on your ass to be smeared around.

“I’ll go easy on you.”

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