#BUT WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! LIKE WHAT THE FUCK!!!!! OH MY FUCKING GOD
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Older boyfriend! Toji who never lets you leave the house to attend your classes without stuffing his bitter cum up your cunt in the morning. :(
It’s like seven in the morning and he’s sipping on the freshly brewed cup of coffee you made for him a few minutes earlier while the nasty, loud squelching of your soaked pussy sucking his dick in filled the early morning atmosphere.
Your plaid skirt is weakly brunched up around your waist, the fabric delicately ruffled, and your panties are struggling to stay hooked against your right cheek. You're practically drooling on the wooden dinner table like a little slut. Your poor legs are quivering and shaking in front of his muscular ones while he's just straight up blowing your back out from behind.
“Dear God, you hear how fucking mouthy this cunt is early in the morning?” He winced at the noise, cursing under his breath as he gazed down at his girthy cock disappearing into the warmth of your creamy hole. Every time he pulls his cock out, a glistening trail of cum shimmered at the thick base of his shaft, some even clinging to his curling pubic hairs like pearls in a tangled web.
“Aww is she thanking my cock for splitting her in half? How generous”.
Your whole body involuntarily trembles under the persistence of his roughness. each furious stroke of his angry tip skillfully hitting your sweet spot over and over with precise force sent shivers down your shine. “D-daddy m’gonna b-be late for class!” you managed to gasp out between whimpering moans. Your voice strained and ragged. But he just chuckles in response, his raspy laughter from his morning voice filling the room.
“Oh yeah? Yer not gonna anywhere till my seed is overflowing out this pretty pussy, darling”. He growls. His firm grip on your hips tightens, and his slender fingers kept digging into your soft skin— leaving marks that are going to remind you of his possession and roughness throughout the entire day.
“Fucking hell, you’re dripping everywhere. This cunt’s fucking soaked, it’s just seven in the morning and you’re already creaming like some horny slut” he grunts harshly, biting his bottom lip as he began bullying his cock in and out of you faster.
“Bet your classmates would love to see you like this, all messy and stuffed full with your older man’s cock”. The warmth of his breath creates a tantalizing contrast against your tender neck, making the tiny hairs from the back of your neck rise.
You bite your lips in an attempt to suppress the pathetic moan that was threatening to escape your lips from his humiliating words. Your body starts betraying you as you imagine the scandalized look on everyone’s face to see your boyfriend’s seed slowly steeping out your used cunt.
“N-no Toji, please…” you whimpered softly, your eyes screwed out and cunt clenching tighter around his veiny shaft.
“Fuck you’re so dirty, baby”. He silenced your pathetic noises with a rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth just as his fat cock invaded your snugged cunny :(. He sucked on your tongue and swirled his around yours to exchange the stringy saliva. You can’t even think straight at this point, your mind a blur of pleasure and an overwhelming desire to please the older man.
With a sly grin, he gently withdrew from the kiss, his warm lips skimming down the curve of your jaw before settling on the delicate shell of your ear. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes as he whispered, “You want my fat load deep in this little cunt while you walk into class, feeling it leaking down your pretty thighs?”.
Your face flushed with an overwhelming wave of embarrassment as his hot breath caressed your ears, leaving you unable to form coherent thoughts. You could barely nod, already gone stupid from his abusing cock. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear, good girl”. He praised with a smug and teasing tone. “I’ll give it all to you, don’t worry”.
“Yer such an obedient little cumslut for daddy aren’t ya doll? He questioned with a light chuckle. He’s always so amused by your fucked out state, he thinks you’re so adorable being dumbed down and stupid from his cock. Your slick, pulsating hole tightly embraces his throbbing cock, gripping onto him like you wanted to suck his soul out of his body.
The prominent veins of his cock rubbed against your velvety walls, massaging your insides and causing an overwhelming sensation of pleasure. He hissed loudly in your ear before speeding up his pace.
He felt your weeping cunt clenching tighter around him, like a vice, threatening to milk every last drop out. “Yeah that’s it, keep squeezing me. You’re so filthy baby, milk daddy’s cock dry” he slammed into you with renewed vigor, his heavy balls practically making love to your swollen clit with each powerful thrust.
Your moans turned into desperate cries, echoing through the morning air. Your needy pussy is spasming around his cock in a powerful orgasm. He could feel your juices flowing out, adding to the creamy mess between your plush thighs.
“Oh fuck, baby you’re making so much mess on Daddy’s cock, yer tryna mark me or something?” he hissed, his cock thumping with a familiar coil in his balls. “M’gonna breed this filthy pussy. Gonna fill it up so full that my seed is gonna leak out of you all day long”.
With one final thrust, he buried himself all the way inside of you— filling you up to the brim so his buttery cum spurts out into your womb. His cock was twitching and pulsating inside of you, making you whine and wiggle your ass back at him at the warm feeling as he emptied his fat load— jet after jet of hot cum shooting into your fucked out hole.
“Good God— fuckk!” the older man lets out a guttural growl, His large body shuddered as waves of pleasure coursed through him. With a possessive gesture, he wrapped his arm securely around your waist, pulling you close as both of you tried to calm your racing hearts and catch your breaths. His cock continued twitching as your heart raced in unison.
“Thereee we go doll, now you’re all stuffed n’ ready for class” he placed an affectionate kiss on your delicate neck, his breath ragged as he slowly withdrew his cock out of your stretched hole— being so careful that he doesn’t spill any of his precious sperm.
His cock slides out with a wet sound before he quickly reaches for your panties and pulled them over your ruined cunt. He gently pulled your skirt over your round ass and smoothed it so it didn't look all wrinkly and mashed up. So you’ll look like an actual neat and well-put together girl, as if you weren’t just fucked into a brainless slut seven in the fucking morning by your sex addict boyfriend.
“Meet me in the car and don’t make any of my fucking cum spill out of you or we’re gonna have to start again, you hear me?”
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His
Summary: Javi can't get enough of you (aka idk how to summarize this other than it's pwp whoops)
Word Count: 1.8K
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader
Warnings: ... again, this is straight up pwp, unprotected p in v sex, rough(er) sex, breeding kink (I'm sorry!! I'm sorry!! It's physically impossible to not!!), praise kink, big, nasty creampie, cum play, 1 use of daddy and papí (but like, that's the goal), an ass smack, prone bone and the one position from s2e3 of Narcos because I say so!!! also sweet, tooth rotting fluff because I don't know how to write any other way
A/N: She's nothing, if not consistent, your honor 🤠 You'll have to pry Javier Peña and his big, fat breeding kink out of my cold, dead hands before I stop writing about it!!!!!! Figured what better way to break a hiatus than letting the ovulation demons do the lords work for me to post some smut on tumblr dot com, hope y'all enjoy!!!
Never Too Late Masterlist
“Fuck, Javi!”
The only thing that’s keeping you from waking up your neighbors with the volume of your moans is the way Javi has you pressed against the mattress, muffling the sound of you screaming his name as he pounds into you, over and over.
You swear he could smell it on you from the second he walked through the door, how you had been craving him all day. Just the thought of him alone was enough to make you ache with unbearable need and want. From the moment he left for work this morning, you were counting down the hours until he got home so you could climb him like a goddamn tree.
But then again, how can anyone blame you when he’s the one who instigated it in the first place?
“I swear to god, when I get home, I’m not letting you out of the fucking bed tonight ‘till I knock you up.”
“Is that a threat or a promise, Javi?”
“Both.”
Javi’s always been a man of his word, but with the way he’s fucking you right now, it makes you wonder if he’s ever planning on letting you out of the bed again.
“That’s it baby girl, let me hear it.”
You can feel the way the words rumble in his chest, pressed against your back as he fucks into you, deeper and harder with each thrust. The grip around your intertwined fingers tighten, practically melting you into the bed with the weight of his broad body is pinning you down, caging you beneath him.
Heat is radiating off him, the tacky sheen of sweat pooling where your skin meets, Javi’s hips flushed against the meat of your ass. He’s already got you three orgasms deep, but there’s just something addictive about Javi that always has you begging for more, desperate to cum around his cock over and over again until you have nothing left to give.
“Oh my god- fuck. Fuck, Javi, I want more baby, please. Fuck me harder- oh fuck-”
You swear you can feel his smirk creeping into the corners of his cheeks as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in the mess he’s already made you, and yet, you still can’t seem to get enough of him.
“You want more, hermosa? Let me hear you, baby.” Javi coos, purposely slowing his pace down just enough to make you whimper, quietly laughing to himself at the way he can feel you back your ass up against his hips, trying to keep yourself as full of him as you can.
“I want it, I want more, baby, please.” You whine, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the devilish grin Javi has plastered across his face.
“You gonna be a good girl and take everything I have to give you? Let me fill you up until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ stick?” He groans, the thought of fucking himself so deep inside you that nine months from now, he’ll be the reason for your growing family, igniting something indescribably primal in him.
“Yes! Yes, please, fuck- I’ll take all of it!”
It’s borderline pathetic how many octaves your voice has climbed as you beg him for more, a pitch and volume so loud and high you nearly startle yourself with your response. You can hear Javi sigh and curse under his breath. You’re not sure if it’s because having you like this drives him crazy, or if having you like this drives him so crazy, he’s worried he’ll bust right then and there if he doesn’t control himself.
Your response has him shifting behind you, sitting back on his knees and gripping his fingers into the meat of your sides to force your bottom half up, one hand letting go to smack your ass just hard enough for your breath to hitch in the back of your throat.
You’re not sure how, but the new position has him feeling even fuller, stretching you out to the point of pleasure filled sobs as he starts to pound against your g-spot, each thrust rougher than the last.
You’re so wet that the sound of him sliding in and out of your cunt is almost as loud as the noise of his skin slapping against yours. That, combined with the lewd panting and moaning heaving from each of your chests, has the room sounding like you could easily give any porno ever produced a run for its money.
“Love this pussy so fucking much. Always so fucking wet and tight for me. Whose pussy is this, baby?” Javi asks, his once smug demeanor quickly dissipating as he chokes out his question through gritted teeth, so drunk on you he can barely think straight.
“Yours! Fuck, fuck fuck- It’s yours, Javi.” You sob, fisting at your bedsheets so tightly, you’re convinced it won’t be long until your knuckles turn white.
“Fucking right, it is. Fuck you so full of me that I knock you up, make sure- mierda- make sure everyone knows you’re all mine. That what you want, Mami?”
“Yes, y-yes! Oh fuck- yes! ”
Javi gets one more smack at your ass before he reaches around to scoop you up from your front, draping his arm across your chest to flush it with his back, never letting the pace of his hips falter. If he wasn’t holding you up, you’re positive you’d be limp, so all consumed by pleasure that it’s engulfed every inch of your body. to keep yourself upright.
His free arm snakes around to find your clit, whimpering as the pads of his fingers rub tight circles around the bundle of nerves. The undeniable tingle at the base of your spine is beginning to build again, the all too familiar clamping of your cunt around Javi’s cock growing tighter by the second.
You can all but feel him in your stomach, every inch of him sunk as deep as you can take him, backing your ass into him to counter every snap of his hips. You shoot your hand behind you, digging your nails into whatever part of his thigh you can find to brace yourself on as he fucks into relentlessly, only egged on by the fact he knows how close you are.
“You got one more for me, baby?” Javi mewls, nipping at your neck while the hot words of his breath dance across your skin. “One more time before I cum so fucking deep inside you?”
You’re not sure how you even have the capacity to form words, nodding your head in compliance as you try your best to string together something comprehensible as the coil in your stomach winds tighter and tighter.
“Y-yes, oh fuck- want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me, please, papí.“
“Fuck me.” Javi huffs under his breath, furrowing his brow in an intense focus to keep from fulfilling your request preemptively. “Cum for me, Hermosa. Cum all over my cock, and I promise I will.”
It only takes a few more frantic strokes before you’re collapsing around him, orgasm shooting through your body with such radiating pleasure, you’re not even sure you’re on this earth anymore. The way he’s pinning your nearly limp body to his, pounding into you relentlessly to chase his own high is almost too much, but you’ll take it. You’ll take everything he has to give because it means that you’re his.
“That’s my girl.” Javi coos, sliding the hand that had been rubbing at your clit up your chest, stopping to wrap around your jaw, just firm enough to dip your head back to rest against his shoulder. “My good fucking girl.”
His head is buried in the crook of your neck, pants and moans muffled against your skin, growing louder with each snap of his hips, each one more reckless and sloppy than the last. You can barely make out the words he’s mumbling into your ear, his brain just as jumbled as yours as he nears his finish line.
“I have so much fucking cum for you. Gonna fuck it so deep in you, it’ll- oh fuck- it’ll fucking take. Fill up this pussy with every last- shit- every last fucking drop. Fuck!”
It’s a low groan that rumbles in his chest first, followed by a strangled whimper that dies somewhere in the back of his throat as his hips stutter, hot ropes of his spend spilling inside of you while he cums. You know he doesn’t dare let a drop go to waste, that he’ll keep his cock stuffed inside your cunt until you’ve milked him of every ounce he has to give.
And fuck, he wasn’t lying when he said plenty to give.
You can’t even tell where your body ends and his begins, melded together as one, his length nestled so deep inside you, you can feel all of him pulsing while his seed overflows, leaking out pussy and dripping down your thighs. You know there’s nothing more Javi wants than to keep every last drop inside your cunt, but the best he can do with how much he has to give is to keep fucking it into you, forcing hips to thrust deeper in sync with the heavy heaves of his chest until you’re all but sobbing.
“It’s- fuck- it’s so much, Javi, fuck-” You whimper, jaw slack at the slick, sticky mess pooling around the base of his cock.
“Jesus, fuck- I know, baby. I know, but you’re taking me so fucking well.” He coos, softly kissing your neck and shoulder before shifting your body to lay you down, somehow remembering to grab a pillow from his side of the bed to prop under your hips before your back hits the mattress.
You hiss at the loss of Javi inside you, the sharp breath quickly replaced by a gasp as you the next plop of cum dripping out of your hole caught by Javi’s fingers, sliding up your soaked folds to gently press back into your cunt. He uses the last bit of strength he has to part your legs just enough to make room for his head, leaning down just enough to pepper soft kisses to your clit, trailing up your stomach and chest until he collapses next to you.
The both of you lay there for a moment in silence, nothing left to fill the room but the post-orgasmic haze you’ve left behind, catching your breath as you try to let your brain sync back up to your body.
“Javi… Javi, holy fuck.” You huff, the corners of your cheeks turning upwards in a cheeky grin as you roll your head to face him, giggling at the wide eyed, fucked out expression his face still can’t seem to shake.
“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi sighs, shaking his head in disbelief before running his hand through the sweat-dampened curls of his hair, prying them from the damp mat they’ve made on his forehead.
“You came so hard, Jav.” You softly giggle, scooting close enough to lay your cheek against his chest, smiling as he drapes his arm across your back to pull you in closer.
“Yeah, I know. Fuck, I haven’t cum that hard in a long time.” Javi smirks, fingers drawing gentle patterns on the warm skin of your back.
“Trying to knock me up really turns you on that much, huh?” You tease, the two of you laughing like you didn’t already know the answer, or that he couldn’t say the same for you. “It’s hot.”
“Yeah?” Javi asks, biting down on the plush of his lower lip as he raises his eyebrows at you.
“Mhmmm. You’re already about to be the hottest DILF known to man, makes it that much hotter how badly you want to be a daddy.”
Even though Javi rolls his eyes at you, trying his best to hide the boyish grin stretched between his cheeks. You snicker at the pink flush of his face, leaning over to leave a lingering kiss on his lips, both your smiles meeting each other’s mouths.
“Fuck me.” Javi sighs, quietly laughing to himself, carefully brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face.
“Again? Already? Hate to break it to ya, but I think it’s safe to say you’ve got nothing left in the tank there, Jav.”
This eye roll makes him grin even harder, supring on your giggles with the ticklish kisses he pecks across your body as payback for your awful joke.
“You’re such a fucking dork. God, I love you.”
“Love you more, idiot.”
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not for the faint of heart౨ৎ ft. your mom’s boyfriend, toji
toji is a terrible boyfriend.
the way his fat cock delves in your velvety insides, stretching his girlfriend’s daughter to the brink of tears. how he treats you like his little sex toy, and how you love every second of it.
how his tongue laves on your cunt and he drinks you up, like a man dying of thirst. how his lips and teeth leave marks and bruises on your skin, how he marks you as his own.
the way he pulls your hair back to bite the nape of your neck, and how you can feel the shape of his smirk on your skin. you know it’s nothing but cruel doing this to your mother, but the feeling is just too good for you to give a damn.
and the worst part is, you think that even though he may not be the best partner, he was definitely the best fuck.
you were a bad daughter.
you were a slut, too.
he calls you his sweet angel.
it feels so ironic, with how his mouth is dripping with your juices and his cock is buried deep inside you. “missed you s’much. ah-fuck, leaving me to go to college and shit. those boys can’t fuck you like i can.” he snarls in your ear.
your pussy aches, toes curling with pleasure, cunt clenching around his pulsating length. you love being fucked by him, he always knows what buttons to push.
toji fucks you like you're his bitch.
because you are.
his large hand comes to wrap around your neck, applying a slight pressure. your breath hitches and you try not to moan at the thought of him squeezing even harder, and you can hear him chuckle. "fuck, doll. y'look so pretty with my hands around your throat. 's almost as if i'm killing you."
the words send shivers down your spine, and you're not sure whether it's from fear or arousal. his fat cock drags along your walls, pressing on your sweet spot over and over again, molding you.
“love missionary, such a pretty face oh my god. i wanna keep you here forever, wanna fuck you all day and night. make sure you never leave me. only want my cock, huh? my sweet angel, i bet you'd look so good round with my kids."
it's all too much for you. his fingers are still wrapped around your neck and his other hand is rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit, and he's kissing you, tongue down your throat and all you can taste is yourself.
and god, the way he talks to you. you know it's not right, you know how fucked up this whole situation is. he was supposed to be like a father to you.
but fuck, you really don't care. not when your eyes rolled back and toes curled, pussy dripping. not when the only thing running through your head is 'please please please please'.
you come, and he fucks you through your orgasm. the wet sounds of your cunt fills the room and his pace quickens, and you know he's close. “ bet it turns you on fucking in your mom’s bed huh?” his tone is cruel, laced with something else. "mhm come on, come in me daddy. make a mess out of my pussy."
that's all it takes before he's filling you up, his release painting your walls and he groans. his hot cum is warm and it seeps out of you. "i love you." he whispers in your ear, clammy hands caressing your cheek.
toji is a terrible boyfriend.
#bigpapaaaa#valᥫ᭡.#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji x reader#toji x self insert#toji zenin x you#toji zenin x reader#toji x black y/n#toji x black reader#toji smut#jjk toji#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x black reader#jjk x you#jjk x reader#anime smut#toji fushiguro x reader#jujutsu toji#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji zenin#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#anime x reader#anime x y/n#anime x you
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very briefly posting the mosquito story, and then I will delete
Once there was a little mosquito.
This mosquito hovered down, and it bit a duck. And then it fluttered about and bit a pig. And inside its swollen red abdomen, strands of protein recombined.
The mosquito carried in its a belly something quite new, and quite lethal. Something that would make the black plague look like a summer cold. The mosquito knew this, of course - mosquitos always do.
The mosquito buzzed down and bit a chicken. The chicken coughed in that horrible way that birds cough. Around it, in stacked cages, other hens began to cough.
“That’s a nasty bug you gave me,” said the chicken.
The mosquito settled on the bars of the cage, delicately washing its antennae. “Yeah.”
“You know what they’re going to do to me, when they find it? They’ll turn up the heat, so that we all suffocate. Or they’ll smother us in foam.”
“Ah, well.”
“I want to live,” said the chicken. “Even in a cage, with my beak cut in two and my feathers dirty, I would like to live.”
“Sorry,” said the mosquito, though it wasn’t. It oscillated its iridescent fairy wings and fluttered out the door, into a vast openness that the chicken would have quivered to imagine.
The mosquito drifted on a breeze for a time. Then, it bit a robin. The robin coughed.
“I will be eaten by a cat,” said the robin (for robins always know their death). “It will carry me inside and play with me on the same carpet where children play. The cat will take a week to die. The children will take two.”
“Sorry,” said the mosquito, though it wasn’t. “I’m just doing my thing. Just surviving, like anyone else.” And it was. When the mosquito died, it was guaranteed a seat beside God Almighty, for it had never done anything wrong.
“It’s fine,” said the robin, “The cat keeps getting crushed by cars, and the family keeps replacing it. They never know how it dies. The parents tell their children that it found another family, and that stops their crying.”
“Okay,” said the mosquito, just to be polite. It opened its wings and allowed the force of the robin’s cough to propel it into the air once more.
The mosquito drifted under the red clouds of a magnificent sunset. The fading sun warmed its body; recent years had been lovely for the mosquitos, muggy and thick with heat. Its brethren twirled in the air around it, catching the light like sparks from a fire.
“Got any diseases?” said another mosquito, sidling up midair.
“Oh yeah,” it said, “big one.”
“That’s crazy,” said the mosquito. “Wow. Wanna fuck?”
Together, the pair spiraled down onto the oily sheen of a pond. Green scum filled the water, nourished by a spurting pipe of sewer offal. Around them, other mosquito pairs landed and copulated, calling greetings to one another as they did so.
After the love-making, the mosquito laid its eggs onto the water. This was its third time laying eggs; it flew well, and bit well, and nourished its growing young with plentiful blood.
As it rose up into the darkening night, the mosquito grew woozy. Even so, it heard the vibration of approaching wingbeats.
“I want to live,” said the mosquito, though it would die that day regardless.
“I know,” said the bat, “and I know that by eating you, I will take a sickness back to my colony. And we will fly, and we will crawl into bedrooms, and we will splatter our guano. And then I will die; but not from this. Humans brought a cold-loving fungus to this country, on their clothes, and on their shoes. This winter when we hibernate with our warm bodies pressed together on a cavern roof, the fungus will grow on our wings and into our nostrils. We will drop, one by one, and our bodies will form a carpet.”
“My sickness might help,” said the mosquito, “for once it reaches the humans, it will cut them down in swathes.”
“But the humans also cure us,” sighed the bat, “with a probiotic bacterium. They devote entire lifespans to curing us. And their hearts hurt more than ours do, for we are dumb and ignorant to our fate.”
“Okay,” said the mosquito. “I was only trying to make you feel better. But alright. Whatever.”
“I can’t say that this plague will make things better or worse for our kind,” continued the bat (for bats love to chatter). “I only know that it will produce a change. Perhaps a change is what we need. Or perhaps, we’ll find that stability was the answer. Nobody will know until it happens; and likely, nobody will know afterward, either.”
“You were eating me?” said the mosquito, fidgeting its six legs.
“Oh yeah,” said the bat, and it scooped up the mosquito in its tail membrane and popped it into its mouth.
Fourteen days after that, the first news story aired.
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yandere! skater boy who doesn't think he deserves to be with you. you're all prim and proper, rich and elegant like a piece of royalty. while he's just some... guy. yes, this is a classic case of rich x poor but this time you're the rich one.
yandere! skater boy who loves you ever so much. you're his everything, his one and only. he'd do anything for you, tear his own heart out and serve it on a silver platter all for you. you're everything. however the status gap between the two of you only serves to increase his insecurity in the relationship. especially with how different your lifestyles are. he's a broke college skater living from paycheck to paycheck, and you're... you're you. you in all your perfect glory, living the high life. you deserve better than him.
"hey babe? are you sure you're alright being with me? i just... i think you deserve someone better," your boyfriend murmurs, your hand in his as his thumb rubs the back of your hand. he doesn't know whether you feel it too. the increasing whispers and disdainful actions of those around you. "of course it's fine. as long as we're happy together, right?" your response is as lighthearted as ever and he can't help but let out a sigh. right... as long as the two of you are happy together. since when has he started worrying about what others think anyway?
yandere! skater boy who can't afford expensive gifts or extravangant surprise trips to hawaii or paris. he can only offer you his heart, a burned cd with songs that remind him of you, or maybe the crochet flowers he made himself. it's not much, unlike any of the previous gifts you've gotten before and he's sure you're underwhelmed by his... wait you like them? seriously?
"you... like it?" he stares at your expression, his fingers tingling from where you touched him. his heart feels funny. fast, skipping beats. you've always had that sort of effect on him, making him feel things he's never felt before. his beloved lover. the master of his heart. "like it? i love it! this is so sweet, thank you so much for this! look, you even wrote me a long note! this has to be one of the best presents ever!" oh. oh. you love his gift. you... love his gift? his mouth goes dry, tongue quickly darting out to wet his lips. he could only look the other way, feeling his cheeks heat up just like yours. "fuck, babe..." he mumbles, hearing your happy chirps about how much you adore him and his handmade presents. you're too precious for him. "you deserve better." so much better.
yandere! skater boy who feels awkward attending all your rich people events. he has no decent outfits, lest ones that are appropriate for an event of such high status. he feels so unwelcome in this place no matter how much you try to reasure him. he knows it. he shouldn't be here. it's in the very way people are looking at him.
"are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" it's too hot, too stuffy. too claustrophobic. he feels suffocated in this massive ballroom, as though he was being choked by the tension of everyone's gazes. he tugs at the collar of his one and only slightly formal button up shirt, sweat lining the insides of his palm. meanwhile, you're the life of the party. all smiles and joyful chirps. god, you look so beautiful when you're smiling. are you happy that he's here? "of course it's fine. you're my boyfriend. i want you here." yeah, your poor and not high society boyfriend. he wants to just drag you both out of this place and go back home, watch a movie or something.maybe show you a few cool tricks on his board at the park nearby. just the two of you and the comfort of the night. nothing good ever comes out of socializing with others. especially not snobby rich people who think they're too good for the brokies. but not you. never you. you're different. you're not like them. so if you want him to stay, he'll stay. he'll stay even if he others want him out, even if he wants to leave. anything to make you happy. you're the only one who matters anyway. just you. only you.
yandere! skater boy who just can't let go of you. he knows he should but... no, he just can't swallow or accept a life without you. you, of all people. everyone else can fuck off and die in a ditch somewhere. but you? god, you're everything to him. you're the one good thing in his life. he can't let you go.
"what's wrong, hm?" your voice is so warm. like the warmth of sunshine after a heavy rain. home. you're his home. your boyfriend sighs into your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your torso as he crushes you on the bed under his weight. this is it. this is what his life was destined for. to be one with you. nothing more, nothing less. "i love you babe." and he means it, he really does. he's grateful you want him back too. he doesn't know what he'd do without you. just thinking of going back to the way things were before he met you... no way. that's worse than breaking his board in front of him which is like, death itself. "i want to stay with you forever," a brief pause as he looks you in the eyes. fuck, you're beautiful. how can someone be this perfect? what was he going to say again? your blinding beauty made him forget. oh right. "can i be your husband?"
#yandere#tw yandere#yandere x reader#yandere drabbles#yandere scenarios#yandere imagines#yandere concepts#yandere skater boy#yandere skater boy x reader#suiana rambling#suiana brainrotting
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Wait. Seriously, hold on. This post is hunting me right now because I think I can finally put my fingers on why USA Christianity is weirding me out since the beginning.
As an European, it baffles me how much of the population identify as Christians while acting and saying things like they've never read the Bible in the first place. Except they did, in some extant, because they're the one that quote it so often (we don't do that here, we might refer to a specific part but don't really quote the Bible?). So why, why do they act as if they never read love your neighbor, give the other cheek, Father forgive them etc.?
Because they want to be warriors actually. They want a wrathful God. And there is God's anger in the Bible, there is the wrath of God that must appealed and you must always feel guilty and ask for forgiveness*. But comes Jesus and what he says is basically 'no more'. No more wrath, no more anger, no more warriors. But humans love raging war.
And we fucking did throughout the whole history of Christians actually. You start by saying you're a warrior of Christ, that your virtue is your sword, your faith is your shield and so one. It's nice: you're being a good believer AND you get to have this badass, very virilis imagery of the warrior. But! If you're lucky enough, you'll even have a real war against some "pagans" (really, you don't have to worry about the specifics) and then! Ouh boy, you get to be a real warrior. Everything is perfect.
Which brings us to: why are these people not changing faith/God? Pick another, more angry God/deity or simply go with a "personal faith away from human's restricting religion". Answer: because it's so fucking hard. I'm studying theology so hard and sometimes it happens that I find Catholicism restricting, too verbose or too specific. Except I can't just ditch "my" religion. (To be fair, I also really don't want to because I decided to fight from the heart of the Church but that's another subject. Oh, and notice how I used fight --even I can't refrain from the manly warrior)
Okay, so what do we do? Well I say, we piss them off. And we do so by celebrating the fucking amazingness that is God made human just to fucking die. Jesus never won by any human standards. He was the ultimate loser. And ain't that absolutely beautiful? And humbling? How can you hate the Mexican who takes your job if God tell you to wash his feet as if you're below him? How can you decide who deserves right if you God tell you that you should strip yourself for a random stranger? I say we fight back by being unapologetically happy that God died for us. Not guilty. Happy. It's so, so beautiful that They love us so much and only want us to replicate a fraction of Their love to everyone we encounter. That we have to make ourselves a bit uncomfortable so a stranger can be a whole lot comfortable. That we have to renounce privileges and luxury so all human beings can have the exact same things and opportunities. That it is shameful to try to be better than anyone else. That it is shameful to try to be successful on our own because we're supposed to uplift everyone else before ourselves. That it is shameful not to be empathetic, vulnerable, open about our weaknesses etc.
So anyway, thanks OP because now I'm even more filled with spite that will fuels my love so I can spite their hatred.
*okay side note since you're still here: this is why in the first centuries, there was a heretic branch of Christianity very adamant on separating the Old testament God to the new gospel God.
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{Vi can’t sleep so you bring her back to bed}
I want to put her in my pocket </3
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾
Vi used to be a really light sleeper before she met you. The tiniest of creaks or the slightest movements would make her jolt out of dreamland— the joys of spending years in prison she supposes. Being forced to constantly watch your back just in case. Everything was a threat in there, the inmates, the guards. It was literally hell on earth.
Nights were better with you. Sleeping by your side with her head nestled either on your tummy or in the crook of your neck. Oh, sleep had never been so easy, you were warm and so very soft. Your breathing lulled her and the safety of your embrace was a balm to her soul. As long as you were with her, then she would be fine.
Tonight was just a bad night. Violet had spent a good five minutes tossing and turning, at the very cusp of sleep but never finding that peace. It was pissing her off, so with a kiss to your bare shoulder she slips out of bed as carefully as possible and down to the garage to work on her gauntlets— the right one had been broken for weeks.
That’d been what?— her eyes flit up to the clock on the shelf above her workstation, 3:05 AM taunting her in bright red LED lights. She groans, rolling her head from side to side. Almost two whole hours and she’s gotten nowhere, so much for the groundbreaking works of Hextech… yeah that was definitely to blame not the fact that her eyes were burning, her body screaming at her to rest.
“Fucking piece of—” she cuts herself off from her frustrated ramblings with a groan, throwing the screwdriver onto the table, the jarring clang of metal against metal only drives to annoy her more.
She was far too in her own head to even notice the door opening and closing behind her— it’s only when she feels the warmth of your palm against her shoulder does she snap into reality, flinching slightly at the unexpected touch.
“Shit, baby. Scared the crap out of me.” her tone instantly softens within seconds, big hand resting over the top of yours.
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to.” You whisper, yawning mid-sentence.
God, she’s instantly hit with an overwhelming wave of guilt the moment her blue eyes meet your oh-so-sleepy ones— your voice still gruff having been woken up by presumably her, which doesn’t make her feel any better.
“Don’t be silly, it’s fine.” Violet chuckles, turning around on the stool she was perched on, making space for you to stand in between her legs— her hands resting over your hips.
“You look like you’re about to fall over,” yeah, she feels it too. Even more so when you brush the pad of your thumb just under her eye— along the small ‘VI’ tattoo on her cheek, the warmth of your soft palm making her sigh. “What’re you doing up, baby?”
“Mmm, can't sleep.” She replies almost sheepishly, strong arms snaking around your waist to draw your body closer to her— head snugly resting against your chest, nuzzling into the fabric of her hoodie you’re wearing. Oh isn’t that a sight for sore eyes?
“Why’s that huh?” You ask, pressing a delicate kiss to her hairline, black clinging to the red tresses that had begun to fade- it oddly suited her.
She doesn’t answer your question, she’s never been the best at speaking on her feelings— so she pulls back, fingers tugging on the end of the hoodie with a smirk. “You look good in this,” you roll your eyes, not having any of it.
“I know I do. Tell me what’s keeping you up?” Vi scoffs in amusement, brows raising, her blue eyes flickering up to you in slight surprise- although she shouldn't be, she knows that you see right through her.
She dips her hands beneath the hoodie to caress the bare skin of your waist ever so gently, rough fingertips skimming along your curves. “Nothing particular— m’just restless tonight, I guess.” Her face softens as she speaks, “Can’t shut my mind off.” She looked so pitiful in this light, lips slightly pursed, looking up at you through her eyelashes.
She thought she might’ve gotten used to this— the way you care for her so intently after so long but at last here she was practically on the verge of tears as you brush your fingers through her hair, hugging her against your chest. God, she felt so pathetic, she’d blame it on the exhaustion.
“You should’ve woken me up.” You whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.
At that she chuckles, shaking her head. “You would’ve gotten all grumpy with me if I woke you up at three in the morning babe.”
“I would not have gotten ‘all grumpy’ at you.” You huff, slightly offended.
Vi barks a laugh. “Yeah, you definitely would have. The last time I woke you up you nearly took my head off.” You didn’t have to see her to know she was smirking— ah she knew you like the back of her damn hand, so infuriating.
“Because you woke me up at two to tell me a joke, that wasn’t even funny.” Well, now that was just mean! She pokes your tummy in retaliation, making you squirm slightly with a yelp.
Your hands swat at hers, shooing them away. “Was hilarious,” she yawns against you, face pressed into you. “You just don’t appreciate my comedic brilliance.”
“Comedic nightmare more like.” She pinches your side once more, toned arms tugging you down to take a seat on her thigh using the opportunity to nose at your jaw. “Meanie,” her words muffled against your cheek.
“Mhm, m'just playing. Now, come to bed before you crash face-first into the table.” You whisper, kissing over her cheek and just above that tiny scar on her brow— thumb brushing along her jaw.
Violet knows she can’t keep herself up any longer than she already has, even if the thought of sleeping feels a little daunting right now. Her arms tighten around you the tiniest bit, sighing in contentment as your fingers massage the nape of her neck in a way that turns her into a puddle— yeah okay, maybe sleep wasn’t the worst thing if you kept touching her like that.
“Only if you keep doing that,” she murmurs to which you hum in agreement, biting back a giggle as she all but groans against your shoulder.
“M’Kay, c’mon then.” Then she’s hauling you up bridal style, enjoying the way you cling to her like a scared kitten as she walks up the stairs and into your shared bedroom. Violet finds sleep sooner than she thought, the magic touch of your hands— paired with those gentle kisses you shower her face with has her snoring into your neck in record time, her thigh draped over your hips effectively trapping you against the bed. You wouldn’t have it any other way.
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#violet arcane#vi arcane#arcane vi#arcane violet#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#vi fic#vi fanfic#vi fluff#league of legends vi#vi imagines#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane fic#arcane fanfic#arcane fluff#wlw#wlw fluff#wlw x reader#wlw fanfic#lesbian#wlw post#sapphic#league of legends x reader#arcane drabbles#arcane imagine#arcane s2
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hiiii, im callista, the one who actually made the CAWK ANALYSIS DIAGRAM, and im begging you to talk about xav and raf too so i can add them to our very important research <3
☆ warnings: mdni, a cock analysis for rafayel (including lemurian form) and xavier
☆ a/n: when i saw your post on twitter I was so shocked >< (in a let me pick up a mf pen and paper type of way) but, when I started cooking this one I did in fact realize I am a monster fucker when it involves rafayel (and sylus too who am I kidding fr), so I am looking forward to the updated research hehehe
sylus, caleb, and zayne ver.
R6.76GGPV - #dc9ca2
Rafayel’s physique is striking. He’s tall, with a lean, wiry frame that speaks to his grace and agility. Don’t be fooled by his size—this man is one with the water. His strength is deceptive, fluid, and undeniable. And, let’s be real: he’s lean, he’s sculpted, and damn, he looks incredible. His stamina is off the charts—of course, he’s a God of the sea. Hello?
Now, let’s get to the real topic at hand: his cock. It’s not the biggest—6.76 (17.1704 cm) inches, rounded to the nearest decimal—but Rafayel is a grower, okay. And what he has is a masterpiece. Gorgeous. I mean gorgeous. The kind of cock that makes you want to worship him, offering yourself up at his altar. There’s a bit of girth to it, too, and trust me, it’s a blessing in itself.
The head? Perfectly shaped, a stunning, pretty pink—honestly, it could be my new favorite lipstick shade. As for his pubic hair? None. Nada. Rafayel is smooth, clean, and pristine. (or he has designs because, yes the fuck he would) But here’s the thing: he doesn’t care what you do with yours. Whatever you’re working with, it’ll drive him wild.
Oh, and the veins. He doesn’t have many, but each one is perfectly placed like his cock was crafted by the gods themselves (maybe because he is one). No more than three, all connecting at various places on his shaft, and if you trace your fingers on it—even if it's a feather-light touch, his cock will jump. It’s almost too pretty—like a work of art you can’t stop staring at.
☆
Now, let’s talk about Rafayel as the Lemurian. His cock in this form? Thick. Fat. Gloriously imposing. At a solid nine inches (22.86 cm), it’s crowned with a knot at the base that’s thick and impossibly enticing. And his shaft is covered in soft, smooth scales—silky to the touch, like oiled skin or delicate petals. That knot? It’s primal, and when he’s overcome by the need to breed, it’s game over. Once he’s inside, don’t even think about running. You’re his, and he’s not letting you go until he’s filled you with his little sea heirs.
Oh, and just imagine him murmuring in that low, teasing voice: “Isn’t this what you wanted, pretty girl?” And you know his eyes are dark and overcome with need.
The scales don’t stop at his cock, either. They trail up his sides, climbing his torso, adding a texture that’s as sensitive as it is otherworldly. When you run your hands over him, he’s electrified, almost trembling with the intensity of sensation. And his cock? Hyper-sensitive. In this form, he’s consumed by the urge to breed, to claim you completely.
Careful what you wish for—because when Rafayel takes you, there’s no turning back.
X6.5GGPT - #c97677
As we all know, Xavier’s figure is quite shrouded in clothes. But truly—his figure is imposing. He’s tall, surprisingly muscular, it’s easy to forget this man is a trained (experienced) hunter. Of course he’s in good shape—it’s impossible for him not to be. He needs to be agile and perceptive—just like how he fucks by the way (like a jack rabbit).
So, his cock. Well, it's pretty—too pretty. A solid six and a half inches (16.51 cm), and yes, he’s a grower. Like I said, his clothes hide everything. And it’s thick, too thick for his own good—Xavier has a habit of reveling in your reaction to it—everytime. When he pulls his pants down and he watches your eyes grow big, your pupils dilate, he can see the wheels turning in your head.
The head is like a mushroom and is so pretty pink, it has a beautiful red tint to it. So thick and it stretches you out everytime, and the tears pooling in your eyes get him going, he might say something like “You’re everything—do you know that? Everything.” Oh gosh and he keeps the hair low and trimmed or he’s bald—a perk of aging slowly is that everything grows slowly too.
And did i mention—he can make it glow. The craziest thing about him is that he's a come machine. He has this innate ability to pump endless amounts of come into you—he needs too. He has too much stamina and can go forever.
He’s literally fucking insatiable, once he has a taste of you.
☆
R6.76GGPV: rafayel-6.76inch-girthy-grower-pink-veiny
X6.5GGPT: xavier-6.5inch-grithy-grower-pink-trimed
#love and deepspace#lads smut#love and deepspace smut#xavier smut#xavier love and deepspace#lads x reader#xavier lads#lads xavier#lnds xavier#l&ds xavier#lnds smut#l&ds smut#lnds rafayel#rafayel#lads rafayel#rafayel smut#rafayel x reader#xavier x reader#l&ds rafayel#i fear i am a monster fucker now#jupiter`~writes
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Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)
Chapter 3
CHAPTER SUMMARY: You’ve reached your breaking point with Oscar, but an unfortunate grand prix changes everything you thought you wanted.
WORD COUNT: 10.3k
WARNINGS: Conversations about sex and but no actual smut, degradation, angst. Mentions of cheating. Oscar is literally horrible. Mention of unhealthy family dynamics. Lots of cursing. Pain, so much pain. Mention of injury. I’m so sorry for all the emotional suffering this chapter will cause.
TAGLIST: @at-a-rax-ia @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans @czennieszn @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles @mimiastroos @mrs-reeves-17 @milkysoop @amalialeclerc @starksztony @llando4norris @ginsengi @angxlzinthesky
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Accept message request from Lando_Norris?
Your fingers hovered over the “accept” button, nervous but curious. What would Lando ever want to talk to you about?
He had avoided you like the plague since that night in Italy, and you hardly blamed him. But as far as you knew, no one except you and Nicole knew that Lily was no longer in the picture; still, what would have changed to cause Lando Norris, of all people, to be messaging you at night?
“Who are you texting?”
You jumped, not having noticed that Oscar had turned over to face you, seemingly unable to sleep.
“No one,” you said. “Just scrolling.”
Oscar confirmed your suspicions. “I can’t sleep.”
“Me neither,” you said, short and annoyed.
Oscar didn’t respond, instead just moving on top of you, holding your chin in his hands to force you to look at him.
“You can’t even sleep until I fuck you like the little whore you are, huh?” He leaned down to kiss your neck, lips grazing over where only hours before he had left dark marks in the supple skin.
“Get off me, Oscar,” you said, and he immediately pulled back.
“You okay?” he asked.
You weren’t okay. In fact, you were furious. “You realize that you never even asked me if I was okay with you talking to me like that?”
The look in his eyes said only two words: Oh shit.
“YN, I… I’m so sorry, I didn’t even think of it like that. Shit, why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“I shouldn’t have to tell you to treat me with respect.”
“I thought you liked it?” he said, running his fingers through his hair out of nervousness.
You sat up, the anger burning within you. You hadn’t planned to confront Oscar so soon after what you had overheard, but now that you’d gotten started, there was no stopping you.
“That’s not the point. Maybe I’m tired of feeling like your personal sex toy, Oscar. Oh, but I forgot. My feelings aren’t your problem.”
Oscar exhaled angrily. “Is that really what this is about?”
You just looked at him, bewildered. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked.
He began, “Look, I don’t know what you think you heard—”
“I heard you talking shit about me on the phone to your own mother.”
“It wasn’t like that, YN.”
“Then what was it like? What’s your excuse now?”
Oscar tried to begin, his mouth opening with no words coming out. He truly didn’t know what to say. “It’s been a hard time.”
“I know. I’m well aware, Oscar. Because I made your feelings my problem for years.”
“I know, and I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses anymore.”
“I’m not making excuses. I’m just trying to explain it to you.”
“Of course, you want to talk now that I won’t give you sex anymore,” you said, rolling your eyes.
“Oh my God,” Oscar huffed, and it took every ounce of your strength not to curse him out then and there. “You act like I’m some fucking villian. You can’t get mad at me for fucking you when you wanted this too.”
“But how do you know that, Oscar? How do you know what I want? Have you ever asked me what I want?” Tears began prickling at the edge of your eyes. “You haven’t, because you don’t care.”
Oscar looked at the wall, his jaw tense. “I’m not doing this right now.”
“Am I not even deserving of an honest conversation?” you said, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. It had been years since he’d seen you cry, but Oscar wouldn’t even look at you.
You got up from the bed and started changing from your pajamas to your regular clothes. “If you don’t want to talk, fine. I can’t make you. But I’m going home.”
“YN—”
“Leave me alone,” you said, grabbing your purse and exiting the bedroom. You heard him call for you again, but you ignored his pleas, walking ahead out of the apartment and to your car.
When you slid into the driver’s seat, you finally broke down, resting your head against the steering wheel. No thoughts went through your head. You weren’t much of a crier, so when you finally gave in, it was more of an act of your body giving up.
So you took a few minutes to compose yourself before driving the short distance home through the streets of Monaco, a place you’d grown to love. But his presence was everywhere. The car. The streets. Your apartment. Oscar was inescapable.
And when you felt your phone buzz as you sat with a cup of tea on the balcony an hour or so later, this reality was confirmed. He was calling.
You didn’t answer the first call, or the second. But by the third you knew that your only options were to turn your phone off, block him, or answer.
Well, what did you have to lose?
“What do you want?” you asked upon picking up the call.
“I’m sorry, YN. Can we talk?”
“Say whatever you’re going to say.”
He paused. “In person? I’m in the hallway.”
“I don’t know…”
“Please?” he asked. You sighed. Why could you never say no to this man?
“Fine. Give me a sec.” You hung up the call, took another deep breath, and opened the front door before immediately turning around to go back to your balcony. You couldn’t bear to look at him, and you welcomed the sound of the soft waves lapping at the harbor as a buffer.
He sat down beside you, and even before any words were said, you felt the tears returning. Something about this felt…final. And your intuition had hardly ever been wrong before.
“YN, I’m so sorry. When I get frustrated I say things I don’t mean. I was really out of line earlier.”
“Thank you,” you whispered, unable to truly accept his apology.
He continued, “And you’re right. I shouldn’t have just assumed that all the rough stuff was okay. And I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
You waited a moment for him to continue speaking, but he didn’t. “Is that all you have to say?”
“I just…don’t know what else you want me to say.” You looked over to him. His head was hung low, like a child in trouble at school. Not like a man who was taking accountability for his actions.
“You really don’t get it, do you?”
“What?” he asked.
You just stared at him for a moment, gathering the courage to ask your question.
“Did you talk to Lily like that?”
“Huh?” he echoed.
“Did you call her all those names? Degrade her?”
“Don’t ask me that.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s…personal. I don’t think Lily would appreciate me talking about it.”
“She didn’t appreciate me being in your life, either. But look how that turned out,” you said, the malice lingering on every word.
Your statement cut a little too deep for comfort. But Oscar finally relented, answering, “...I would, sometimes. She didn’t care for it. But I just…get frustrated a lot. It helps me get all that pent up energy out. Half the time I don’t even think about what I’m saying.”
You hummed. The implication of his words hung in the air; you were a relief for his frustration, a thoughtless passtime.
When you didn’t respond, he got nervous. “Did I…hurt you?”
“Not physically, no,” you answered, your eyes never moving from the sight of the harbor in the distance. “But I don’t think you really care.”
“Of course I care.”
“No, you don’t.” Your lip quivered. You tried to swallow the tears that came up, but you couldn’t.
“No, don’t cry,” Oscar said, reaching out to embrace you, but you avoided him, getting up to lean on the railing. He followed you, this time not offering any comforting touch.
“What the fuck are we doing, Oscar?” you said, barely able to get the words out. He grasped for words but wasn’t able to find them before the flood of emotions spilled from you.
You began, “I used to think that the fabric of our lives was…like, sewn together. Like we were destined to always be in each other's lives. But ever since the breakup I’m so afraid that everyone who ever warned me about you was right. I feel like all these years you’ve just been using me, stringing me along so you could have someone there when things don’t work out. Like I’m just your backup plan. Like I’m not even good enough for you to treat me like a human being.”
“You really feel like I’m using you?” Oscar asked, his surprise horrifically genuine. “Was I just using you when I went out of my way to call you every week for 4 years when I was away in school, even during exams and races? When I got you this place because I wanted to live close to my best friend?” His tone went from gentle to frenzied—not angry, but desperate, like he couldn’t even fathom it. “I mean, YN, what, did you want me to cheat on my girlfriend with you?”
You looked up at him, and he realized again that he had messed up again.
“No, that’s not what I wanted. I’d never do that to Lily because you know it’s been done to me.”
“I know, and was I not there for you when you needed me?” In a way, Oscar was right. When you had broken things off with your unfaithful ex, Oscar was the first to your rescue, staying with you for days while you could barely even function. “YN, what else do you want from me?”
“I want you to be honest about what’s going on between us.”
“We’re…. hooking up, I don’t know.”
“Is that all I am to you, a hookup? A friend with benefits?” Your soft tears became full on sobs now. “Oscar, I am in love with you! You are the love of my life. And you can’t tell me that you haven’t known exactly how I felt, for years now.”
“Of course I knew,” he whispered.
“Then why would you do this to me? Why would you take advantage of me like this?”
Oscar had started crying now, too.
“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“This isn’t fair, Oscar.”
“I’m sorry.”
A thick silence fell over the balcony. You knew that the conversation should be over now. There was nothing else you needed to say. But you couldn’t stop yourself from continuing the pointless hurt.
“Do you even love me?”
“Don’t—”
“Can you even look me in the fucking eyes and tell me that you don’t love me?”
“YN—”
You didn’t even let him complete his sentence, instead walking back into your apartment and slamming our now cold mug into the sink. “Just go,” you said, your voice stern.
“YN, please—” Oscar said, following you inside the apartment.
“Go!”
“You want the truth?” Oscar said, raising his voice to you for the first time since you’d ever known him. His eyes now flooded with tears, staining his cheeks. His hair was tousled, his under eye bags puffy and pronounced. He looked like a mess.
“All I’ve ever wanted is the truth.”
“The truth,” he began, swallowing, his voice cracking as he spoke. “The truth is that I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen.”
“No—”
“Yes, YN,” he said, his voice raising again.
“No, fuck you, Oscar, that’s not true!” You were both sobbing messes now.
“Yes it is,” he begged, his voice ragged.
“Then why would you do this?”
“Because…” he paused, taking a deep breath and sniffling, trying to regain his composure. “Because we were best friends, and you lived with us, and I was so scared of fucking things up.”
“So you went and just found a girlfriend instead?”
“No, it…” he looked away from you and took a sharp exhale. “It wasn’t as simple as that. You…” He let out a frustrated sigh. “It was just…complicated. You were the girl who lived with us, like another sister, I mean, I couldn’t have feelings for you of all people. So I was so scared.”
He looked at the wall, scarating his neck, and continued. “And when I met Lily, it was all just…simple. Everyone liked her, she was nice, she’s smart. When I brought her home she fit right in, the fans loved her. She was everything I needed her to be, y’know?” He exhaled.
His gaze fell to the floor and lingered as he continued. “I didn’t love her at first. I mean, I liked her, she was great, but it was more about just…filling a need, I guess. But I did fall in love with her later. I tried to love her with my whole heart, I really did. I thought that what I felt for you would just go away but obviously it didn’t. And then she fucking left me. As she should, honestly.”
Oscar nervously looked around the room until he could no longer avoid your piercing gaze, face frozen in disbelief.
“You’re horrible, Oscar.”
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“You used me. You used Lily. And all of this from the very beginning was about… my family? I’m sorry you all had to take me in because no one else would. I’m sorry I didn’t go to a fancy boarding school in London. I’m sorry that my parents are two pieces of shit that didn't want to take care of me when I was a literal child.”
“It’s not that—”
“But it is. That’s what you said.”
“It’s not you, YN. I mean, it was, but we’re not kids anymore. I love you. It was just… awful circumstances.”
“And now? What’s your excuse? I cut off my parents. And Lily fucking left you. So why are you just using me now?”
“It’s just too much right now. The breakup, the championship…I know if I try, I’ll just fuck it up. I lost Lily, I can’t lose you too.”
“Why? Because then you’ll have no one to warm your bed when you’re sad?”
“You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone that you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with!”
“You’re right, I don’t. Because the person I want to spend the rest of my life with is you, Oscar. But you don’t want me. You never have. I’m your backup plan until something better comes along. That’s all I’ve ever been. I’m not good enough for you, you don’t love me. I don’t even know who you are any more.”
“You said I was the love of your life,” Oscar said, his voice lowered now.
“You are. But I’m not yours. I don’t care what you say you feel. If you really love someone, you don’t treat them like that.”
“I’m so sorry. That’s all I can say.”
You let out a shaky breath, exhausted of all energy from the fighting. You didn’t even have it in you to be angry anymore.
“We shouldn’t do this. We should just go our separate ways and be done with it.”
“No, YN—”
“You have a championship to focus on, don’t you?” you said.
“You’re my best friend,” he said through his tears. “I need you.”
“I’ll finish out my employment contract through the end of the season. You can sell the apartment. I’ll pay back Mum for anything she had to spend on me when we were younger.”
“YN, please,” he begged.
“Don’t, Oscar,” you said, your voice soft now. “Just let me go.”
“Can I kiss you?”
The correct answer should be no. You should have told him to get the fuck out of your apartment and never come back. But it was Oscar.
You didn’t answer him, instead just walking up to him and embracing him, letting him hold you in his strong arms as his lips met yours one last time. His lips were salty with tears, but for once his touch was soft and gentle.
When you pulled away, he stayed close to you, pressing his forehead down to yours. “I love you,” he whispered.
“Go home. You’ve got a flight to catch in the morning.”
You could call in sick to the United States Grand Prix in Miami; Oscar could not.
Well, theoretically, he could. God knows the reserve drivers would be happy to take his place and show off in front of the teams that were always scouring for new blood. But he couldn’t back down now. Not with a trophy looming so ominously over his head.
And especially not in Miami. Everyone hated Miami. Everyone except Lando, that is.
And as Oscar mindlessly paced the paddock back and forth, praying to God that no journalists would pester him for an interview, he couldn’t escape the reminder of his teammate’s victory.
“Well, things seem to be heating up here in Miami! The race continues between McLaren teammates Oscar Piastri and Lando Norris in this early battle for the World Driver’s Championship. Piastri is putting in a valiant effort, but who can forget Lando Norris’ first victory here last year? It’s incredible to see how far he has come in such a short amount of time—”
He really needed to stop walking past the commentator’s box.
This is usually when Oscar would try to find you in the paddock, or send you a text from halfway across the world. But he couldn’t do that anymore; you hadn’t quite barred him from communication, but what could he say?
He just needed to focus. Perform. Drown himself in the work. That’s what he told himself as he made his way back to the McLaren garage, away from the prying eyes of the media and the haunting words of the commentators. That’s what he told himself as he slipped on a set of headphones and nodded along as his race engineer spoke, acting as if he was paying attention.
That’s what he told himself as he climbed into the car, took a deep breath, and pressed his foot to the gas.
Thousands of miles away, in Monaco, you were supposed to be having dinner. Actually, you were supposed to be in Miami, taking photos of Oscar in all his glory.
But you couldn’t face him. You couldn’t eat. You couldn’t even sleep.
In the corner of your living room sat a box with Oscar’s old stuff in it. You stared at it as if it had the eyes to stare back. Your hand mindlessly swirled your fork around your remaining food, now cold and mostly uneaten.
Why did this feel like a breakup?
You wanted to scream, but you’d already gotten noise complaints from the fight days prior. So instead, your apartment was deadly quiet.
You sighed, moving to your bedroom and collapsing in the soft covers, having decided to give up and indulge yourself with a night of bed rotting. But even your bed felt empty. The sheets held a faint trace of Oscar’s scent. It would come out with a simple wash, but laundry was the furthest thing from your mind right now.
You needed a distraction. You grabbed your phone and immediately went to social media to mindlessly scroll.
But in your notifications was one you had nearly forgotten about: that message request from Lando.
You opened it without even thinking, unfortunately sending the read receipt even though you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone right now.
Hey, not to be weird but do you know if anything’s going on with Oscar? He’s been acting odd recently.
You groaned in frustration. You couldn’t escape your best friend.
The message was sent a while ago—when the pair were in Bahrain, actually. You should have just deleted it and acted as if you never saw it. But you felt horribly awkward leaving Lando on read.
Yeah, he and Lily broke up :(
Was the frown really necessary? Should you say more? You didn’t have the energy to think, sending the message without much fanfare. You locked your phone and put it back on your nightstand.
But only a few moments later, it buzzed. Another message from Lando.
But…Lando was in Miami? At the circuit? He should be driving, not texting you. You opened your phone and clicked on the notification.
Damn, that’s rough. I thought they were endgame. You in the paddock?
You raised an eyebrow. Why would Lando Norris, of all people, want to know where you are?
No, I’m back in Monaco.
Another nearly instant reply. Ah, I was hoping to make a cameo on Oscar’s Instagram haha. You’ll be at Imola though?
This whole interaction felt…weird.
I will! I’ll be sure to get some good team shots lol
You tried to match his energy with your reply, but you couldn’t shake the odd feeling that this wasn’t right. But as you finally did put your phone down and retire for the night, your mind kept racing, coming to wildly different conclusions.
Maybe Lando did want to be friends. Maybe, now that Lily was out of the picture, he felt more comfortable around you. Maybe he was just trying to smooth things over with Oscar in the championship battle. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
Or maybe you were so used to Oscar’s lying and manipulation that you couldn’t imagine someone talking to you just for the sake of friendship.
You huffed to yourself as the thought crossed your mind. You pulled your blanket up and buried yourself in it, as if the thoughts were something physical you could hide from. You fell into a tense sleep.
Oscar couldn’t sleep, though. He could barely sleep back when he had you at his beck and call, let alone when you all weren’t speaking to each other.
How had he fucked up so badly? He brought his hands to his face and roughly exhaled. Like you, he had resigned himself to spend his night scrolling, until he too noticed an unanswered message.
Except it wasn’t from Lando. It was from Lily. As if things couldn’t get any worse.
She was brief and to the point.
I just wanted to let you know I’ll be at Imola for a company event. I doubt we’ll run into each other. Hope you and YN are well.
Her words stung. The professionalism where there once was warmth and love. The perfectly petty dig at him and you, assuming that he had already moved on (though, she wasn’t exactly wrong).
He wanted to throw his phone off his hotel room balcony. From the slight crack in the blinds, he could see palm trees, and the ocean far off in the distance. And he knew that back in Monaco, you’d be staring at the same moon, hearing the water in the distance as it lulled you to sleep. The miles between you during race weekends had always been numerous, but the distance wasn't—not until now, at least.
He slammed his phone on the nightstand and took yet another sleeping pill.
It was going to be a horrible week.
And, unfortunately, the morning wasn’t much better. Another oh so friendly interaction with his teammate.
“Hey, Oscar, wait up,” the Brit called, jogging to catch Oscar as they both entered the paddock. Oscar slowed his pace but didn’t stop, hopeful that this would be a clear sign that he wasn’t here for conversation.
When he did catch up, Oscar just gave Lando a small nod as a greeting.
“Hey, I, uh, heard about you and Lily. I’m so sorry, mate.”
Oscar turned, making a confused and irritated face. “Who told you?”
“YN. Well, I asked her if you were okay.”
The Aussie made a small grumbling noise.
“I was just worried, you know. You just seemed like you were going through some stuff. You know I’m always here if you need me, right?”
“I need to beat you,” Oscar said, but his words had no bite to them. There was no snappy anger anymore, just exhaustion.
“Of course,” Lando said, smiling, as if he thought his teammate’s championship ambitions were nothing more than comic relief. “But for real, man, I’m sorry and I’m here for you.”
“Thanks,” Oscar said, though he didn’t really mean it. He just wanted to be alone.
In Monaco, you were breaking your first cardinal rule of a breakup (even a friendship breakup) and turning on your TV to watch Oscar drive.
You had managed to go without watching the free practices and even quali, but you couldn’t bring yourself to not watch the Grand Prix.
And it was good that you tuned in, because he won.
You nearly threw your phone across the room when he finally passed the checkered flag. You had been practically holding your breath since he secured the lead in a masterfully timed pit stop mid race, beating out Max Verstappen to bring home his second win of the season.
So, maybe he wouldn’t hate Miami as much anymore.
Your phone—secured now on your nightstand to prevent any race-related breakage—loomed in the distance as you debated sending him a congrats text. It wasn’t like you all had gone through a true breakup; you weren’t even together. But you knew you couldn’t let yourself end up in his bed again. You knew that he was a broken man, and you couldn’t fix him.
So your friendship had come to occupy this odd liminal space in which neither of you knew exactly where you stood. At some point, this would have to be discussed, but clearly neither of you had learned your lesson on healthy communication.
You wanted to tell your best friend that you were proud of him. Was that such a bad thing?
It wouldn’t be, if you could ignore that voice now echoing in your mind.
Since when are her feelings my problem?
You nearly gagged at the thought. Yeah, you weren’t texting him.
And back in Miami, Oscar anxiously awaited a text that would never come.
“Oscar, mate, quit staring at your phone and let’s celebrate!” Lando teased, patting his teammate on the back.
Oscar just sighed, opening his phone again to find no messages from you.
“She’s not coming back,” Lando said. “So either you get drunk enough to call her, or you get drunk enough to find someone to replace her. Either way, you’re getting drunk tonight.”
“Really, Lando?”
“She destroyed a five year relationship over some stupid shit, and you just won another grand prix. So yes, I think you should get fucked up with me tonight!”
“Don’t talk about Lily like that, mate. And besides, I’m not even waiting on her.”
Lando raised an eyebrow. “Then who are you waiting on?”
Oscar’s defenses were wearing down, even while sober. “You know who.”
“And you still want me to believe that you two aren’t hooking up?”
“It’s…complicated.”
“Spill.”
Under normal circumstances, Oscar was never the type to discuss his personal life at work, much less with his rival for the championship. But as the plan of going out was abandoned in favor of a nice bottle of Cuban rum ordered to the room, Oscar found himself spilling his secrets like a teenage girl at a sleepover.
“And then I just…” he hiccuped, “I told her everything. And she didn’t believe me, and I don’t blame her, but it fucking hurt, you know? And we were just screaming at each other, she said we should go our separate ways. What am I supposed to say to that? And I still haven’t heard from her, but her and Lily are gonna be at Imola. I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do.”
“Mate,” Lando said, slurring his words, “You fucked this up worse than I fucked up the championship last year.”
The two drivers laughed—otherwise, they’d have to cry at the peril poor Oscar had put himself in.
But the time flew by, and soon enough Oscar found himself on a flight to Italy, which he secretly prayed would crash so that he could avoid this entire charade.
Of course, on all your respective flights, the feeling was mutual; neither you, Oscar, nor Lily really wanted to be there. But duty called, and you were nothing if not professional.
It was an odd place to be; on one hand, you loved this job. It was fun getting to explore the world with your best friend and get paid to take pictures and make silly videos. The electric atmosphere of the paddock was one that had always felt like home, like you belonged there.
On the other hand, every time you thought about seeing Oscar again, you wanted to puke.
Thankfully, when you did inevitably see him again, your lunch did not resurface. You operated like a robot; no banter, no friendliness, just stark professionalism.
And Oscar didn’t know what was worse; not having you there, or seeing you act like a stranger.
The one silver lining, at least, was that Lily was nowhere to be found. He couldn’t handle those emotions too.
So, again and again throughout the weekend, he repeated that manta to himself: Just focus on work. Just focus on work.
He said it to himself one last time before he hopped in the car for qualifying. Just focus.
But he just couldn't. From the seat of his car, the chaos of the pit lane and the gaggles of photographers were just blurs, unidentifiable blobs. I had always comforted him to think that one of those was you, watching him. Now it was haunting.
And somewhere, buried away in the paddock, Lily was there. Oscar could imagine it; her polished and professional demeanor, almost perfect, as she schmoozed up to that one executive from the company that he swore always had a thing for her.
He wanted to scream. Instead, he had to pull the car into the garage as the session was stopped due to an accident. It was raining heavily. Extra caution was advised, his engineer explained, but Oscar couldn’t focus. Not because of his thoughts—although, those certainly didn’t help—but rather because of what he saw across the garage.
You were chatting with Lando.
“Hey, YN!” Lando greeted as he hopped out of his car, seeing you in the back of the garage taking photos. “It’s nice to see you.”
“You too,” you said, though it wasn’t particularly true.
“Looks like we’re going to be a while,” he said looking over his shoulder at the storm brewing in the distance, “want to walk the paddock with me and get some candids?”
“Sure,” you agreed, though the request confused you.
The two of you left the garage and Oscar felt like punching the wall.
At first you walked in silence, your only emitted sound being the soft click of your camera. It was kind of pointless, though, since you were supposed to be getting shots of Oscar. You knew this. Lando knew this too.
“Can I ask you something, Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“Is there any reason that you’ve been pretty…friendly lately?” you asked, controlling your tone so it came off as genuinely curious rather than suspicious.
“Honestly,” he laughed, scratching the back of his neck with nervousness, “I felt really bad about everything that happened on the trip. I was afraid I might’ve scared you off.”
Well, that didn’t make much sense. Lando was the one who had been avoiding you since the trip. But, after dealing with Oscar, you had simply accepted that men in general made no sense.
“You didn’t,” you said. “And, I mean, the only reason we ended up like that is because Lily was trying to get rid of me. But, you see how that worked out.”
“Really? She didn’t have the balls to tell you to leave her man alone?”
“Not until after you left,” you said, exhaling in exhaustion.
“Damn,” he said, looking away from you. You snapped a few photos of his candid side profile, admiring how the light hit his curls just right. “You know, the only reason I ran off in the club that night like that was because I didn’t want to get involved in all that? I mean, I wasn’t about to steal Oscar’s side chick.” He laughed. “But from what I hear, things have changed?”
You laughed. “Oscar’s side chick?”
Lando raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t sleeping together?”
“Why do you want to know?” you laughed. Was Lando…flirting with you? No. He couldn’t be. He was Lando Norris, the most notorious playboy of the 2025 grid.
“Aw, c’mon. I want to know the drama!” he teased, flashing his boyish smile.
“Well, what if I want to know your drama?” you teased back, taking the opportunity to snap a few photos of him as you continued walking.
“Psh, I’ve got no drama. Just keeping to myself, trying to win.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You’re avoiding the question, YN,” he said, smirking. Holy shit, he was flirting with you. But did you really mind? It felt nice to have that playful banter, to see a man who wanted that back and forth more than he just wanted your body. What was wrong with having a little fun?
You sighed and told him the most technical version of the truth. “Oscar never cheated. But you really thought I was sleeping with Oscar and you didn’t say anything to Lily?”
“Wasn’t my business. Besides, I thought it was pretty obvious.” His comment left a bit of a sour taste in your mouth, especially knowing the fears that Lily had confessed to you so long ago.
“No, I wouldn’t do that to Lily,” you said, and it was true. After all, you were both women.
“And what about Oscar?”
You rolled your eyes. Having a nice conversation with Lando helped you remember how not nice your time with Oscar had been recently. “Oh, fuck him,” you said weakly.
“Well, did you?”
You paused, unsure of whether or not to confess. “I already told you that he didn’t cheat. Is what, or who, I do in my spare time really any of your business?” you playfully teased.
His lips curled upwards. “I like to know what I’m getting myself into.”
The double entendre wasn't missed on you. You glanced over your shoulder, scanning the crowds to ensure that no one was paying too close attention. “You don’t have to worry about me and Oscar. But you know I run his social media, right? So I see all the gossip pages, all the shit you get yourself into. It’s a bold claim to say you’ve got no drama.”
“Oh, darling, they don’t even know the half of it,” he smirked. You all had turned around by now, walking back in the direction of the paddock. The crows were thinner now.
He continued, “But what about you, huh? You’re all bored with Oscar and now you want some real fun?” He let out a small laugh. “No, you’re not like that. Too much of a good girl.”
“You think I’m too good? I’m here flirting with my best friend’s rival for the championship.”
“Are we flirting, is that was this is?” he asked, as if he didn’t know exactly what he was doing. “I thought we were just having a pleasant conversation, catching up on the gossip.” Unbeknownst to you, Lando had gotten all the gossip from Oscar after their drunken celebration in Miami. But he wanted to see exactly how much you’d reveal to him.
“Well, sure then. I’m sure you get tired of race talk all day, anyway.”
“You say that like you think race talk is boring. But I’ve seen you at enough races to know better. Don’t play coy, you love it, don’t you? You know more about racing than most of the drivers’ girlfriends.”
It kind of unnerved you, the way Lando knew exactly how to push your buttons. The subtle you’re not like the other girls implication; both you knew it wasn’t a compliment, but rather a statement meant to rile you up and see how you’d react. And it worked.
Your voice lowered, steady yet quieter. “It’s a bit sexist to assume that women don’t know anything about racing. And knowing more about racing doesn’t make me any better than anyone else.”
“I never said that, love.”
“Hmm, but you thought it.”
“Are you in my head now?” You playfully rolled your eyes. “So tell me about all the race talk between you and Oscar.”
“Is that a euphemism for something?” you chuckled.
“D’you want it to be?” he smirked. “No, no, really. Tell me what groundbreaking F1 opinions are inside that pretty little head of yours.” Yeah, he was definitely flirting with you.
“I’ve got nothing groundbreaking,” you said as your smile loosened, contemplating how you wanted to arrange your words. “I think Oscar has a good shot at winning the WDC this year, if he can get out of his own head.”
“And what about me?”
“I think you’ll give him a run for his money. But you care too much about what random people on the internet think,” you said, ending the statement with that on the nose jest.
“You’re probably right,” he smiled. “God, you sounded like my PR manager for a sec there.”
“Not exactly dirty talk, is it?” you joked.
You arrived back at the McLaren garage. Lando walked in first, seeing that Oscar’s back was to you, and positioned himself so that when Oscar looked around, he’d see him instead of you. You were none the wiser.
He leaned down to whisper in your ear. “You still haven’t answered my question. How was he?” Lando’s face was plastered with a mischievous grin.
You playfully hit his shoulder. “Don’t ask me that!” you cooed, though you didn’t mind his closeness, the warmth of his breath on your ear.
Oscar didn’t like it, though. And when he turned around and saw your back to him, Lando leaned down next to you, and smirking, he wanted to run him over with his car.
Lando looked up for only a split second, but his eyes met Oscar’s, as if to acknowledge what he was doing. Or, as if to say, yes, I’m doing this, and you can’t stop me.
Oscar couldn’t handle the audacity of watching Lando flirt with you in front of his own eyes. Thankfully, you were tapped on the shoulder by none other than the new guy, who had broken his extremely expensive camera, and you were called away to help him figure it out.
Oscar crossed the garage to face Lando, never breaking his line of sight.
“Oh hey, mate, what’s up?” Lando asked, innocently.
“Why are you talking to YN?”
“Oh, she wanted to take some photos—”
“Don’t talk to YN,” Oscar said, his voice plain but stern.
“Mate, we were just having a chat. It wasn’t like that. Don’t be so paranoid.”
“I’m serious,” Oscar reiterated. “Don’t cross that line, Lando.”
“Okay, my bad,” Lando said, nervously laughing and carelessly throwing his hands in the air. Oscar still wouldn’t shift his gaze, even as both drivers were called to get back in their cars to resume the qualifying session.
There was something up about Lando, he could tell. But it’d have to wait. Now, he had a pole to get.
Well, he tried, but only managed to come in fourth. Lando got pole. Of fucking course.
Another sleepless night passed with no messages from you.
And the next morning, there you were as usual, staring at him only through the eye of your camera lens.
But then, across the garage, you had no problem chatting it up with Lando. He threw you a glimpse of his award winning smirk and Oscar felt violent. He didn’t like this. Not one bit.
You were doing it to spite him, that was obvious. You’d never be interested in a guy like Lando; too much of a playboy. And honestly, Oscar knew deep down that he deserved this. But it still made him sick to his stomach.
The feeling only dissipated when it was replaced by that primitive need within him to win. The lights before him went out and reason gave way to instinct.
Lando bottled the pole, losing the lead to Max after the first corner. Oscar fell back one place, narrowly avoiding a collision between Charles and Lewis, before overtaking them as they struggled to reorient their cars.
So it was just him, Max, and Lando. He could do this.
His body moved automatically. He could hear the roar of the engines, the chattering of the radio, and the screaming of the fans in the distance, but in his mind all was quiet. Laps blurred as he sped along the track, pushing inch by inch closer to overtaking Max.
Eventually he did, getting DRS and flying past the Redbull driver, pushing hard to get a good lead over him.
All that was left now was his own teammate.
“Okay Oscar, you’ve got enough space between you and Verstappen,” his race engineer said.
“I want to overtake.”
“A 1-2 is our goal right now—”
“Then he can be 2nd. I want to win.”
Silence befell the radio channel for a moment.
His engineer returned. “Okay. Papaya rules.”
Papaya rules. The phrase that haunted his dreams.
There was really no need to use the coded language anymore. The world knew what it meant—race, but keep it clean. Put the team above yourself. Don’t do anything reckless.
But Oscar was sick of being the good teammate, the one who always let Lando win for the sake of the team. He was tired of being gifted wins. Team orders were bullshit. This wasn’t about McLaren anymore. This was about his pride. This was everything.
So he pushed harder than he should have. He was wearing his tires out, he knew, but Lando just coasted along, as if nothing was amiss. As if his teammate wasn’t out for blood and gaining on him with every lap.
Lando glanced in his mirrors and saw Oscar behind him.
“Oscar’s getting close,” he said to his engineer.
“We told him papaya rules. Remember, our goal here is a 1-2.”
“He’s gonna wear out his tires.”
“Let’s just focus on keeping P1.”
But Lando knew it wasn’t that simple. This was no longer impersonal racing, just the best of the best competing against each other because it was in their nature to do so.
No, this was personal now.
Lando rounded the corner, feeling Oscar hot on his heels, but managed to defend his position. He knew that with DRS enabled at the next stretch, he wouldn’t be able to hold him off.
But in front of him, he was already close to lapping the backmarkers of the grid.
Oscar could see them in the distance; the familiar teal of Lance Stroll’s Aston Martin, and an even more familiar fumble as he drove erratically due to some mechanical issue with the car.
Lando slowed down, but Oscar couldn’t react. He swerved, hitting the barrier.
Back in the garage, the breath left your lungs.
You couldn’t resist the temptation of watching. You’d slid the headset on after Oscar had driven off, and you’d planned to leave before he got back to the garage and discovered that you’d ever been there. No harm, no foul. The allure of the purring engines and adrenaline-fueled racing was just too much to resist.
But now, hearing the violent scrape of carbon fiber against metal as Oscar’s car screeched along the barriers, your heart sunk into your chest.
“Are you alright, Oscar?” you heard his race engineer ask, his voice filling your ears.
But the silence afterwards was deafening.
“Oscar, can you hear us? Are you alright?”
All that came through was a metallic gargle of noise, a sign that the radio had been damaged in the impact. There was no way to know if Oscar was hurt or not.
A hush fell on the track as the safety car was brought out. Lando had effectively secured his win, with so few laps remaining.
Your eyes were glued to the screen, praying to whatever God would listen that Oscar would be okay. You watched as the marshalls rushed to the site of the car, huddling around the lump of broken parts that stood still on the sidelines.
Because of the force of the crash, the medical car had been deployed as well. You were frozen in place.
You had never been much of a believer in God, but all you could do now was beg.
Please, God. Please let him be okay. If he’s okay I can forgive everything he’s ever done. If he’s okay I will never let him out of my life ever again. Please, God, please let him be safe.
You chanted the prayer over and over again to yourself as the seconds ticked by like hours.
Finally, after an agonizingly long wait, you saw the marshalls carrying along an orange-clad form into the medical car.
You didn’t even think. You just reacted, taking off your headset and booking it towards the medical tent.
You weren’t the only one there, though. The tent was already swarmed with media, all craning their necks to see Oscar. You pushed your way through to the front, only to be stopped by security, since you had your media pass instead of your usual VIP pass as one of Oscar’s friends.
You panicked—to the eyes of security, you were just another reporter who was rudely trying to cut through the crowd to get to the injured driver.
“Please let me by,” you pleaded. “I know Oscar—”
“You can wait at the media tent.”
“C’mon—”
“Ma’am, we need you to leave.” You groaned, and you were about to leave before you heard the voice of your savior from out of nowhere.
“Hey!” he called. You turned your head to see who it was—the familiar, friendly face of Zak Brown.
He was on the other side of the barrier, but Oscar was still nowhere to be found.
“Oh, YN, am I glad to see you!” He turned to the security officer. “Let her in.”
“Sir, media personnel are not authorized—”
“She’s VIP, not media.”
“Sir—”
“Do you know who I am?” he said, an unusual sternness in his tone. The security officer glanced down at his pass and silently let you through.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Zak said, his boyish grin returning as he patted you on the back and led you along to the private area where they’d be bringing Oscar any second now.
You sighed as he pulled the medical curtain closed.
“Boy, was that a nasty crash,” he said.
“Is he okay?”
“Well, he’s alive. That’s as far as I know.”
Your heart sank again. But as if on cue, you heard the rumble of camera shutters and reporters chattering outside the tent as the marshals escorted Oscar into the tent. When he came up, the room was flooded with medical personnel, pushing you and Zak back to the edge of the curtained-off room.
A nurse rushed in. “Who’s his emergency contact?” she asked Zak.
“Her,” he said, gesturing to you. You were confused. Since when had Oscar made you his emergency contact?
“Stay here,” the nurse instructed, but even if you wanted to, you couldn’t move an inch. You resumed your prayers as Zak blabbered on and on, mainly to himself. One thing that you’d learned very quickly about Zak Brown once Oscar had gotten to McLaren is that he really liked to yap.
As the doctors and nurses filtered in and out of the room, you caught a brief glimpse of Oscar in the hospital bed, his eyes rolled back into his head, slumped over into his shoulder.
You wanted to wail.
But it was only a few minutes before everyone began to filter out of the room, creating enough space for you to finally see your friend. And when you did lay eyes on him, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you feared.
His eyes were closed; an attempt to rest, rather than a state of unconsciousness.
A nurse at his bedside turned to you. “Don’t worry. He’s going to be fine. We’re going to sedate him and transport him to a hospital, but he’s not gravely injured. He just needs some tests done that we can’t do here.”
You nodded along, not once taking your eyes off Oscar.
“And, yes, you are his emergency contact, so we’ll need you to come with us. He’s authorized you to make decisions in the event that he's unable to. But that is unlikely, of course.”
“Is he…?” you asked, gesturing towards him.
“He’s still a little shaken up. The best thing right now is to get him into a calmer environment.”
You nodded. “I’ll make sure that new guy doesn’t lose all your stuff,” Zak quipped, and you threw a smile out towards him. “I’ll meet you all there when we’ve wrapped up here.”
Ah yes, the grand prix was likely still going on outside, and Lando would have to climb the podium and take his P1 trophy home.
But as you sat in a hospital room in Italy next to your best friend, the podium was the last thing on your mind.
Oscar was still completely out of it. The doctors had come and gone, confirming that all of his tests had come back normal. No broken bones, no concussion, nothing major. Just a shit ton of bruises and a shock to the system that left him too exhausted to stay awake for more than 15 minutes at a time.
Outside, the sun was setting, but you couldn’t sit still. You held Oscar’s limp hand in your own, tracing patterns into the cold skin. You hadn’t held his hand since you were kids—no, Oscar had held your hands above your head as he pinned you to the wall only weeks ago.
You flung the memory away. Now wasn’t the time. Besides, you promise you’d forgive all that.
Either way, you couldn’t focus on that now. Oscar’s eyelashes were fluttering open, his eyes squinting at the fluorescent light above him.
“Osc!” you said, truthfully too energetic for the occasion. You dropped his hand, got up, and turned off the overhead light, leaving only the swiftly fading daylight from outside the window to illuminate the room.
He groaned as you sat back down, but still mumbled a small thanks.
“Where am I?” he asked, bringing his hand up to rub his eyes.
“A hospital in Imola.”
“Shit,” he sighed.
“Yeah. You had a pretty bad crash.”
“I remember that,” he said, his throat dry and cracked. He took a sip of water. “Lando brake checked me.”
“Is that what happened? I wasn’t paying attention.”
“Yeah. Fucker,” he cursed, his voice dripping with contempt. You didn’t know what to say.
“How are you feeling?” you finally said, tired of the lingering tension.
“Awful. Everything hurts.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m just glad you’re here,” he said, reaching for his call button to request painkillers. “I’ve missed you.”
It was bold, doing this when he knew you couldn’t exactly be cruel to him. So, instead, you were honest.
“I’ve missed you too. I’m just glad you’re okay,” you said, reaching forward to smooth his hair away from his sweat-stained forehead. Your touch felt better than any painkiller. “We were really scared.”
“Nah, you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon,” he joked as the nurse arrived and wordlessly administered his meds. He let out a sigh as he felt the painkillers enter his system. “I run on pure spite. A little wall isn’t gonna take me out.”
You gave him a small smile. “You didn’t say anything after the crash,” you said, your voice just a quivering whisper, giving away the true depths of your fear.
“I had the wind knocked out of me. And then, everything just went black, I was fading in and out.”
“I was praying you’d be okay. It was so scary.”
“Hey, I’m okay. A little busted up, but I wasn't exactly a looker anyway, huh?” he joked, a feeble attempt to make you laugh. You sniffled and smiled.
He continued, “Can I use my near-death experience as an excuse for us to make up?”
Your smile dropped and you bit your lip. “Osc…”
“I just want my friend back,” he said, cutting you off. “Look, I can’t be the boyfriend you deserve. Not right now, at least. And I think, after all the shit I did, you wouldn’t want me to anyway. But I miss my friend.”
“I miss my friend, too.”
Your heart to heart was interrupted by a knock at the door. The same nurse from before poked her head in. “Excuse me?” she asked in an Italian accent, and you looked up. “There is a visitor asking to be let in. She said her name is Lily?”
You couldn’t help the face you made. What on God’s green Earth was Lily doing in Imola?
“Um, yeah, let her in,” Oscar said. He didn’t react, though you scooted away and sat at the edge of your seat, ready to leave at any second. “Stay,” he whispered to you, and you did.
A few moments later, you saw her walk in, and the atmosphere was thick.
“Hi Oscar,” she exhaled, grateful to see him okay. He greeted her back, but she didn’t even look at you. You got up to give them a moment, but Oscar reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Don’t go,” he said, and the look in his eyes was impossible to refuse. You tentatively sat back down.
“How are you feeling?” Lily asked, and the two exchanged pleasant conversation back and forth. You wanted nothing more than to jump out of the window that now showed the sunset over the trees. Normal visiting hours would be ending soon.
“Well, I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” she said, getting up to leave. “I’m glad you’re doing well. You too, YN,” she added on the end, but you didn’t believe it. You gave her a flat but polite smile.
“Actually, YN, could we have a word?” she asked, cocking her head in the direction of the hallway.
The look on Oscar’s face told you that this was a horrible idea. But one of you was confined to a hospital bed, and the other wasn’t. You ignored him and followed Lily into the deserted hallway.
She turned to you, voice full of venom. “How long have you been sleeping with Oscar?”
“What?”
“You heard me,” she said, plain as day.
“I’ve told you before, Oscar never cheated on you.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
You turned your head in confusion. “What are you getting at?”
Lily angrily sighed. “You think that you can just waltz around the paddock talking shit about me with Lando, and that I’m not going to hear about it?”
Had Lily been at the paddock? Or even worse: had she somehow heard you?
“Well, if you actually heard my conversation with Lando, you’ll know that I stood up for you.”
“I thought you were a girl’s girl,” she said, deflecting from your defense.
“I am.”
“Then why were you in bed with my boyfriend 4 days after we broke up?”
“Your ex boyfriend,” you said, meeting her level of venom. “You left him.”
“I just thought, after all that talk, you’d have the decency not to prove me right.”
“Lily, I was honest with you. If you’re mad at Oscar, don’t take it out on me. He’s the one who suggested it. I told him it was a bad idea.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“And I felt horrible about it. So I stopped.” Your voice was sharp. “Who told you any of this?”
“It doesn't matter. I hope you’re happy.”
“I hope you are, too. Genuinely.” You lacked the words to say what you really wanted to. He treats both of us like shit. He used us. I am not your enemy. She wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. She wordlessly walked away, scoffing and mumbling to herself.
You didn’t say anything either as you walked back into the hospital room and slumped in the chair.
“I’m guessing that didn’t go well?” Oscar said.
“Nope.”
“Well, we were in the middle of something…”
Oh, right. The conversation where Oscar was trying to get back in your pants.
“I’m not going to fuck you, Oscar.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“We can let anything lead to that. Not again.”
“I understand,” he said. “I just want my friend back in my life. Like all of that never happened.”
“Could we even do that?” you asked. It felt like a line had been crossed, moving your friendship in a way that couldn’t be undone.
“I promise. And I know my word doesn’t mean much, but really, I promise. Never again.”
Haven't you promised that you’d forgive him?
“Okay,” you said, “Okay.”
Oscar smiled at you, showing off his bunny teeth. You still loved him. You couldn’t help it. But true to form, you could never stay away.
“Oh, and by the way, congrats on Miami.”
You fell asleep in the chair, having refused to leave Oscar’s side. He’d be discharged in the morning to make his flight back to Monaco, though it was questionable whether or not he’d be able to race in the iconic Grand Prix.
True to his word, though, Oscar got one final set of visitors in the dead of night.
The first was Zak Brown.
“Oscar!” Zak yelled, before Oscar shushed and pointed to your sleeping form. You stirred but didn’t fully wake, and Zak placed his hand over his mouth and raised his eyebrows as Oscar let out a quiet laugh.
“Hey Zak,” he said, his voice hushed.
“Glad to see you’re doing better.”
“Yeah, I made it,” he mused. “Hey, what did the FIA say?” Oscar’s phone had died since you had fallen asleep, and his charger had been left at the track.
Thankfully, Zak had brought his (and your) belongings, and he placed the bag at the foot of the hospital bed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, the penalty, from the crash?”
“No one got a penalty.”
“But, Lando brake checked me.”
“Lando barely avoided a crash with Stroll.”
“I know, but he didn’t swerve, he slowed down. He had room to swerve, I didn’t. How did no one get a penalty?”
“That's just racing.”
“He intentionally slowed down to stop me!”
“Oscar, I highly doubt that that’s what happened. It was a crowded track, and you all had to react in a split second. These things happen, you know this.”
Oscar wasn’t at all pleased with this answer, and it was worsened by the appearance of his second visitor: Lando himself.
“Ah, there’s our grand prix winner!” Zak said, giving him a hearty pat on the back.
Lando smiled, and Oscar wanted to throw up.
“Had to bring it home for the team,” he said, smiling at Zak. “You doing alright, mate?” he asked.
Oscar was already tired of people asking him how he was feeling. “I’m fine,” he said.
“Lando gave Stroll an earful after the race.”
“Oh yeah, probably getting fined for that one…”
“Why? I didn’t crash because of Stroll. You brake checked me.” The pain was making Oscar more irritable. He’d need another dose of meds soon.
“No, Stroll was driving like an idiot out there, I had to slow down.”
“No, you had to move. You’re not stupid. You just didn’t want me to overtake, didn’t you?”
“Okay, boys, let’s save this for the track,” Zak interjected. Oscar just grumbled. “I’ll meet you outside, yeah?” he said to Lando, who nodded but stayed behind.
The Brit glanced at you, still fast asleep in the chair by Oscar’s bedside. “D’you tire out your babysitter?” he smiled.
But Oscar was relentless. “Don’t talk about her.”
“I thought you all weren’t on speaking terms?”
“Lando, mind your business.”
“I don’t know what your problem is, mate.”
“You think I don’t know what you’re up to.”
“I’m not up to anything. I’m just trying to be a good teammate. Jesus, Osc, they should check that you didn’t hit your head too hard, you’re so paranoid.”
Truthfully, Oscar was bluffing. He had a horrible feeling about his teammate, but no evidence to back it up. But his intuition was hardly ever wrong.
“I ran into Lily after you left,” Lando said. “I hope you don’t mind, but I told her you were here.” His tone of voice was so gentle that Oscar began to wonder if maybe he was being too paranoid.
“Yeah, she came by earlier.”
Lando’s eyes glanced back to your sleeping form, and Oscar felt his anger rise again. He didn’t even want Lando to look in your direction, let alone be speaking to you.
“Your heart rate is up,” Lando said, gesturing to the monitor that now showed the physical effects of Oscar’s anger.
“Look, Lando,” Oscar said, shifting to sit up in bed. “Stop acting like we’re friends. Stop talking to YN, stop trying to play this buddy-buddy game. We’re here to beat each other.”
“I was just trying to be kind, but I guess if you really don’t want to be friends, I can’t make you.”
“I’m serious. Leave YN alone. Don’t even go there.”
“She’s an adult.”
“And she’s mine.”
Lando laughed. “Seriously? That’s not exactly what she told me.”
The monitor beeped again as Oscar’s heart rate continued to rise. “I don’t care what she told you.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Try it. See what happens.”
A nurse gently knocked on the door, and Oscar was grateful for the distraction and relief of pain meds.
“Well,” Lando said, leaning on the door, “I guess I’ll see you all in Monaco.”
#formula 1#f1#formula one#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x y/n#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#op81#op81 x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri fanfiction#lando norris#ln4#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#lando norris fanfic
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Fuck it ill answer all of them in order
01: hah, no.
02: my cat
03: yup
04: Oh, very
05: Single
06: Im not picky
07: One single buttery round cracker
08: hah, no.
09: not anymore
10: hmm.. has to be several years ago now
11: yup.
12: Longer, even, just to prove that I could.
13: I hate several people.
14: I miss everyone.
15: Several!
16: My stomach hurts but my spirits are high. Im being very brave.
17: nope
18: Not as much as I used to be, but yes.
19: Nah, im good how I am. Things happened how they happened and theyre going to keep happening, so theres no point in meddling.
20: never snogged a day in my life
21: Exist and find joy in the moment. I never plan anything.
22: Nope
23: Nope, I only wear clipons.
24: uhhhh being gay.
25: A few, yes. My friends from elementary school (Primary for the brits)
26: Im not craving anything at the moment
27: I cant imagine so, im not desirable.
28: I can imagine so. My first bf was always flirtimg with anoother guy in front of me and when I told him it made me uncomfortable he just said "Dont worry about it" and we never spoke of it again. I think that counts.
29: Cannot confirm or deny, but its likely.
30: My feet kind of hurt.
31: I hope so.
32: Yellow. Pastel yellow, specifically.
33: Who can say for sure. I cant self-diagnose that kind of thing.
34: Trying to kill my mom in a fit of rage, but nothing I did had any effect on her and she talked down to me the entire time which only made the fit worse.
35: I dont remember.
36: Maybe. I dont like holding grudges, too much effort on my end.
37: for me, forget.
38: Who knows, its barely started.
39: probably either teen or preteen.
40: No.
51: (Fuck it ig we doing 50s now) Fetucinni alfredo
52: Probably not any reason higher than just the way the world is. There is no divine purpose and life is what you make of it.
53: I took my cat to the bathroom and gave her a piggy-back ride back into my room as was her will.
54: Nothing is black and white, but you'd better have a damn good reason or you get put into the pit.
55: Oh, very.
56: Like one or two at most and I did not do well.
57: Nope. In fact, I dislike the idea of having this one true love tied to you by fate. It takes all the choice out of the relationship. Either be with someone the strings of time have chosen for you, or be alone forever. Thats horrifying.
58: Snow and rain. Makes me sleepy
59: Love it.
60: I dont really care either way
61: Nope. I dislike that pet name even tho I use it personally for my cats, but it feels a little bit to demeaning to be used for a lover since in my experience its always been used from a position of power.
62: Living and being free to live.
63: I dont really like my name but I dont have anything I actually do like to change it to. I guess I just dont like being percieved.
64: I would rather kill myself actually.
65: God, I wish.
66: yes. Mostly. For the most part.
67: hermm... The owner of a warrior cats long term rp server.
68: I dont remember, I tend to say extremely deep sounding things at random. Im the stupidest bitch alive but it lets me spout sage wisdom once in a while.
69: No. Love is what you make of it.
70: I would die or kill for anyone I actually care about no questions asked.
70 horrible questions ... Fuck it
01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?
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When the Nerd’s a Fuckboy
Jake Sim x Male Reader
an: just realized part of this fic is similar to the minho bit in the week of wonders one so forgive me for recycling material 😭😭
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yn has been failing his math subject on college, “why the fuck did i choose this degree when i hate maths so much” he cried in the shoulders of his friend sunghoon, “because you are a dumbass” he replied unfazed. “ugh.. whatever” yn blurted out while holding his chest, showing to his friend how much his words hurted him. “instead of being here crying, why won’t you ask one of your classmates, the most intelligent perhaps, to help you with the subject?”.
“hmm the smarter one… who’s the smarty pants in my class?” yn was lost into thinking about it that sunghonn thought he was simply dissociating, “oh fuck no, IT’S JAKEE!!” he yelled making everybody who’s passing by to turn their heads towards the pair of friends, sunghoon covering his eyes with his hand, “the fuck” he murmured embarrased. “sorry by the way but i can’t ask him to help me”, yn exclaimed, “why?” the other asks. “he’s just too scary to approach, he’s a smart guy but he gives off bad boy vibes like a fuckboy”.
“well that sounds off, how can a nerd be a fuckboy. aren’t you just overreacting yn?” sunghoon says with curiosity in his voice, “accompany me to the classroom, you'll see him there”.
“fuck he does give those vibes ynnie, he for sure likes it rough”, “oh my god sunghoon shut up” yn's face lit up in a shade of red, “go to your classroom pervert”. sunghoon waves a goodbye while laughing his ass off. “is he like that?” yn murmurs in a low voice when entering the classroom.
minutes passed and yn was indecisive if talking to jake or not, the idea sunghoon implanted on his brain not leaving him alone, it's like a ghost coming time to time to haunt him. jake is such a hot guy that everyone who sees him from afar would think he's the bully of the class but they get surprised when they see how he's so nerdy. “h-hi” yn greeted jake, “hello” he greets back while still eyeing the notes written on his notebook, “i was wondering if you umm… could help me with math” yn’s whole body still, nervousness taking over his body. “why should i do that?” jake asks making yn gasp in surprise, if he was in an animated comedy he surely would be animated like a piece of glass shattering. he tries to laughs the awkwardness off, “you're the top student and i really.. really need to pass it with good grades”, “not convincing enough” he replied immediately. ‘fuck why does he has to be like that’ he thought and seeing there's no other way to convince him he took a desperate measure. he pulled his jeans right above his knees so he can bend them properly and kneel in front of jake, clasping his hands together he then proceed to say, “please help me, i beg. i’ll give you anything in return”.
something was awoken in jake, seeing yn kneeling in front of him, with those pouty lips and cock sucking eyes. he needs to have more of that, he needs to take yn. no, he has to ruin yn. jake was one of those smarty pants boys with a high libido so his hornyness was at max level every day, this can be proven when seeing his phone full of dating apps and how almost everyone in the classroom was head over heels for him knowing how good he was in bed, hell, even some teachers and staff members of the college were like that from him, truly a nerdy manwhore. so naturally he has to ruin yn expeditiously.
“anything?” jake asks, his tone laced with lust and depravity but yn wasn't as dumb as he looked like, he knew exactly what jake was asking for but nonetheless he decided ro play that game too.
“yes anything please” he keep on with that act because at the end of the day he's gonna learn something and will enjoy it too so it was a win-win to him but oh boy he doesn't know what's coming to him.
—
“what's the answer?” jake's bangs sticked to his forehead due to the sweat, the frame of his glasses falling off of his nose bridge but he quickly fixes it, he licks his lips “answer me slut” the sound of the spank echoed in the room, his hand imprinted on yn's butt cheek, who was sitting on the other's dick with his back facing jake.
“i-i don't rememberrr” yn gasped, letting his sweaty and marked body fall to the floor but with jake's meat still inside him, the nerd has been obliterating his hole the past hour. everytime he messes up one of the 10 questions on the sheet, jake punishes him and made him start again but with a new sheet of questions. “i won't be able to focus if you keep hitting my prostate” yn whimpers. “or you're just messing up because you love my dick stretching this pussy. even a high schooler could resolve this sheet in 15 minutes” jake pulls out his dick and quickly replaces them with his digits. four of them entering at once on the gaping pink hole, smeared in saliva and lube. “or maybe you're just dumb as a fucking rock” the top adds.
yn's head rests on the floor, no strenght left in his body, a pool of drool forming on the floor, “at least give me a kiss” he pouted, “i don't kiss my hook ups” the nerd replied.
“commme onnn~” jake slaps yn's cheek, “four fingers were enough for you to get fucked dumb?”, “n-n..noo~... i just need to-” he was cut off when jake put his fingers on his mouth, “ah ah ah ah ah.. you can't get distracted dumbslut but i'll let it pass this time. meanwhile i think on something to help you keep tasting your boypussy juices”.
jake's dick slid up and down on top of the other's pulsating hole, the burning friction making it shiver in pleasure as if it's asking for more, “hungry pussy” he blurted out, “haven't had one like that for so long”.
“jake pleashee~ help me with thish and then you c-can fu-fuck me all you wanttt~” yn tried to convince jake so he can rest a little but to no avail, “or i'll fuck you right now and then we study” he slaps his tip on top of the hole, then introduces only that part and starts whiping his dick with his hand, the vibration provoking squelching sounds that were like music foe jake's ears, “god how much i love a wet pussy”. “ish not a pusshyy~” yn talks back and it's received with another harsh spank, his ass bright red already, “it's a pussy, my pussy now” jake slams himself onto yn drawing a loud cry from the bottom, “FUCKK!! sho big~”, yn's eyes rolles back and his tongue was out, “look at you, all dumb over my cock”.
jake pulls yn towards him, locking him with his arm around his neck, bulging veins decorating that pretty skin. the headlock wasn't that hard but it has the right amount of pressure to choke yn. the dizziness making him squirm and by consequence it made his hole grip hard jake's dick. “holy fuck, i'm gonna nut in this boypussy” jake grunted, pistoning his hips faster and harder completely ruining that gaping hole.
“fill me up. fill me up” yn begged, jake’s dick throbbing inside him sending waves of pleasure throughout his body, “fill thish pusshy up. to the brimmm~”. the slurred words plus the beggin made jake's dick twitch, his thrusts becoming sloppier, an in an impulsive act he brings yn’s face towards him to kiss him –breaking his 'rule’–, his tongue eager to explore inside yn's oral cavity. in one of those sloppy thrusts he hit yn's sweet spot so hard that it made him orgasm right there –cumming hands free– the white liquid spilling over his body and then running down his shaft to drip on top of jake's balls. jake spurted his spooge inside, riding his high while still buried on yn with a few more thrusts. he then let go of the headlock letting the other catch some breath. jake let's himself fall to the floor and yn plopped on top of him, tired he closed his eyes, while being caressed by jake's soothing heartbeat sound.
“what the-” yn woke up, scared. was that all a dream? he was asking himself mentally, “no, it wasn't a dream, get ready ‘cause we need to finish this sheet” jake said with a monotonous, cold voice, completely different at the beast who rearranged his guts moments ago, ‘what the fuck can he read minds now?’ yn thought, furrowing his eyebrows and his eyes narrowing at the nerdy boy. “i can't read minds, you're just predictable”.
“fuck you” yn started to mumble curses towards the other while going to the bathroom limping. jake just stares at him, his usually calm and cold expression changes to a smirk inmediately afterwards, he then fixes his glasses and direct his stare towards the piece of paper in front of him, licking his lips in the process.
#jake sim x male reader smut#jake sim x male reader#sim jaeyun x male reader#sim jaeyun x male reader smut#enhypen x male reader#enhypen x male reader smut#enhypen smut#male reader#kpop x male reader#kpop x male reader smut#smut#male reader smut#jake sim x reader#sim jaeyun x reader
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So. I wanted to get some perspective on how quickly jayvik has risen in popularity recently and well. coming home has more kudos than the highest rated spock/kirk fic on ao3 and is neck and neck with the second highest rated destiel fic. congrats queen.
im going to have. a panic attack
#WHLKSDJFH DJK WHAT#OH MY GOD#i mean no i appreciate you telling me#i am so grateful#but what the fuck do you mean#what do you MEAN#that cant be right#what#brain is going brrrrr? !!?! WHAT#no#absolutely not#sorry im a little tipsy#mayhaps i'm not responding with my usual customer service tone#whwhwwhhwhwhwhhw#what if this is my legacy#oh god#no no this is good#listen i am so damn grateful and shocked#but also i need a walk and a cigarette and like#an ice bath or something#this is incomprehensible to me#i feel like you just tried to show a medieval shopkeeper an ipad#like wow thats really cool#im going to throw up#DSKLFHSDKJLF#oh god i fact checked this it looks correct#jesus christ#oh my god that destiel fic you were talking about i've fucking READ when I was in my early fandom days#this makes me feel insane#mostly a good feeling but also liek
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Disagreements
Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: kisses? Other than that, nothing!
Genre: established relationship, fluff, angst
Summary: Hyunjin misses an event important to you, and an argument ensues. He says something he didn't mean, and he'd do anything for your forgiveness!
You stormed into the apartment, throwing your bag on the kitchen counter. The door shut behind you with an audible thud, and you heard Hyunjin sigh before he opened it and stepped inside.
“Baby, I said I was sorry!” he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mix of frustration and desperation.
“Hyunjin, do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” you snapped, crossing your arms and glaring at him.
“For -” He gestured vaguely at the air between you, eyes darting everywhere but your face. “For not being there?”
“You stood me up, Hyunjin! You missed a work event I’ve been talking about for months - one I explicitly told you was important to me!” Your voice cracked, and you hated yourself for it. “It wasn’t just any event - it was my event, and you didn’t show.”
Hyunjin’s shoulders slumped, his hand running through his hair in a frantic motion.
“I didn’t mean to, okay? I thought my shoot would -”
“Your shoot? Oh my God, why is everything literally about you all the fucking time?! You couldn't have made it work, for just once?!” Your anger boiled over. “Do you have any idea how…of course you wouldn't, because I am always there. I never leave you hanging. And you just take me for granted-”
He winced, his lips parting to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, he scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting around like he was searching for a hidden escape hatch.
Hyunjin usually got away with everything. He was so used to being babied by you that this sudden outburst was scaring the hell out of him. And he really didn't have an idea how to work with it.
“God, you’re impossible,” you muttered, turning away. “You don't even try, do you?”
Hyunjin stiffened. Because now that wasn't true. He tried. He really did.
“Is that what you think?” His words rushed out so fast, he couldn’t stop. “You really think i don't try? Oh my God! How could you say that?!”
“You proved me right, Hyunjin!”
“Babe, this was one time -”
“It's literally always-”
“If that's how you feel then maybe you should just break up with me.”
You froze, a tear trickling down your cheek. And the silence was suffocating.
Hyunjin blinked, looking absolutely shocked. His eyes went wide as if he had only just registered what he said.
“No, wait, no -” His voice cracked. “That’s not - oh my God, I didn’t mean -”
And the sight of you staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes - your lower lip trembling - killed him.
You said nothing. Nothing. And that? That was Hyunjin’s undoing.
“Oh my God,” he gasped, his face contorting as he covered his mouth with both hands. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no.”
A sound escaped him, a weird mix between a sob and a wail, and before you could blink, he launched himself at you, wrapping you in his arms so tightly your face collided with his chest.
“I’m sorry!” he bawled, voice muffled against your hair. “I didn’t mean it - I swear I didn’t mean it. I’m such an idiot! Oh my God, baby please don't hate me! You’re perfect, and oh shit, this is a disaster -”
“Hyunjin -” you tried, voice muffled by his shirt.
“God, I hate myself!” he cried, pulling you even closer. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I said break up?! Who says that? Who even thinks that?”
His sobs grew louder, chest heaving against yours as he clutched you like you might disappear any moment.
“Hyunjin -” You sighed, hands moving to rub slow circles on his back. "Breathe, baby."
“I'm such a horrible person” he wailed, lifting his head to look at you with tear-soaked eyes. “You’re comforting me when I’m the one who hurt you! Why are you so nice?!”
You stared at him - this gorgeous, ridiculous golden retriever of a man standing in your kitchen and sobbing - and you couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. It burst out of you, uncontrollable, even as tears welled in your eyes again.
Hyunjin froze, his brows furrowing.
"Are you laughing at me?” he asked, sniffing because his nose was running from all the crying.
“You're such an idiot!” you wheezed, clinging to his shoulders for balance.
“That’s not fair,” he whined, pouting as his bottom lip jutted out dramatically. “You’re supposed to be mad at me. I deserve it.”
“I was mad at you,” you said, calming enough to meet his gaze. “But then you just…baby stop crying, please, ‘cos now I don’t know whether to kiss you or roll my eyes forever.”
“Can you do both?” He sniffled, his pout softening into the faintest of smiles.
You reached up, cupping his tear-streaked face as you said, “You’re lucky I love you, you big baby.”
And before he could respond, you pulled him down, kissing him firmly enough to silence whatever self-deprecating comment was surely on the tip of his tongue.
When you pulled back, he gazed at you, eyes shining like you’d just handed him the moon.
“You hurt me, Jinnie, so yeah, you're still in trouble,” you said, arching a brow. “But maybe I’ll forgive you. Eventually.”
He beamed through his tears.
“Eventually sounds pretty sexy to me.” he said with a shrug.
“Don’t push your luck, Hwang.”
Hyunjin watched you closely as you got ready for bed. You can literally hear the gears turning in his head.
Hyunjin’s grin widened as your eyes met, the sparkle in his eyes returning with alarming speed. You climbed into bed narrowing your eyes because you just knew that this menace wasn't going to leave you alone till this whole fight was out of the way.
Hyunjin couldn't sleep through a conflict. You loved that about him, because any disagreement was sorted by bedtime and your home was so damn peaceful because of this one thing.
“So…you said eventually?” He asked as you settled on your side of the bed.
“I did-”
“So, if I kiss you a few more times -”
“If you think your soggy kisses are -” You didn't finish that sentence because he obviously attacked you right there.
“ - say, here” He leaned in, brushing his lips against the corner of your mouth. “and maybe here-”
His lips skimmed the edge of your jaw, lingering just enough to make you shiver
“Do I speed up the timeline?” he asked, and you really wanted to smack him across his gorgeous face. Oh you did. But also, you wanted to grab that very face and kiss him senseless.
So you bit back the smirk that was threatening to show up, tilting your head ever so slightly.
“Do you think flattery is going to work on me right now?” you asked.
“Not flattery, babe. Strategy.” His voice dipped into that low, teasing tone he knew you couldn’t resist, and his hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together.
You narrowed your eyes again, ignoring the way your pulse quickened.
“Hyunjin, seriously, your seduction strategy is just bullshit.”
His laughter rumbled against your chest.
“Okay, first of all, I personally think it's working just fine. And second, you’re dodging the question. Do I get forgiven faster if I make you feel like the goddess you are?”
His lips were already moving again, trailing slow, deliberate kisses down the side of your neck.
You tried, really tried, to maintain your composure, but his mouth found that spot just below your ear, and a traitorous little gasp escaped you.
“Jinnie -”
“Mmh?” He hummed innocently, his breath warm against your skin. His hands roamed lazily up your back, sliding under your shirt. “You were saying?”
“I was saying -” You inhaled sharply when his teeth grazed your earlobe. “You’re not getting off that easily.”
“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t dream of getting off easily.” he chuckled, his lips curving into a devilish smirk. “But I can definitely make this more interesting.”
Leaning down, he nuzzles your nose like the puppy he was.
“I'm so sorry, angel. I tried. I really did. Even Chan hyung did. But some things are just not up to me…I hate that, and I know you don't deserve it. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” he said, his voice soft.
“I know baby…I know,” you whispered, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt. “And you're already working on it, so-”
“And how am I doing?” He tilted his head, eyes twinkling.
“You’re at a solid…” You pretended to think. “…six out of ten.”
“Six?!” His jaw dropped in mock offense. “After all that neck kissing? I’m hurt.”
You shrugged, biting back a grin. “Step it up, Hyunjinnie.”
“Oh, you asked for this,” he growled playfully, rolling you over so that you were under him in a second. You yelped, holding onto his shoulder tight.
He hovered over you, his hair falling into his face and his grin as wicked as ever.
“Ready to upgrade me to a ten?” he murmured, lips brushing against yours. “Because I'm going to grovel. And you're gonna wish I didn't.”
You laughed, looping your arms around his neck.
“Oh groveling sounds good.”
“Oh, baby,” he purred, closing the gap between you. “Challenge accepted.”
Divider: @saradika-graphics
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic
#stray kids#skz#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x y/n#hyunjin x you#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin angst#skz fluff#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#stray kids x reader
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I know I don't need a label to live but god do I feel miserable sometimes (paradoxically from the label and the unknown)
I am genuinely happy for my friends and their love but it is such a maze for me and maybe that's how it's supposed to feel
I've confused a friendship with what my ex friend considered "romantic" and I regretted it when I agreed to date, all this was resolved later because I confessed our feelings vary a lot
Thing is I do not feel miserable because I do not have a partner right now, absolutely not, I feel so happy because I get free time for myself and for my friends and other stuff and hobbies
I don't even want to date right now or anytime soon. And I still hang out with my friends and I am satisfied. Socially, I mean. But in the future I would love for it to work out with a future friend
I feel miserable because I am afraid that this label is going to fit way too well and I wish I was wrong. I wish I'll discover that I'm an aromantic who can feel romantic attraction just a little. for just like one person. it's scary because I don't know how it's supposed to feel
maybe I'm just an aromantic asshole who has suuuuuper unrealistic expectations, that could be the case as well
but... when would it ever stop me? I am well aware that we are all imperfect works in progress and I really want to think people are comfortable with me, or well most of them. I try to approach most people I meet, because gods I love meeting people and getting to know them, and if we establish trust we can talk about more complicated stuff and I am like down to. Because I cannot handle smalltalk constantly, we need to throw in some deeper thoughts and- and
I don't know
It just feels funny because out of all people why am I, the one who is (100%, I am so fucking sensitive) very sensitive and emotional and overthinking and overanalyzing and you know. It's funny that I'm the one who just doesn't get romantic attraction and if it happened to me like right now I'd be scared shitless. Because I don't want the chemistry of my brain to decide what I feel randomly. Like I know love from the first sight is most likely an overblown thing but also people somehow get magnetized and they just stick to each other and then just something happens. Maybe I just love everyone??? Maybe my problem is I want to have a relationship somewhere in the future but this someone has to be a friend first, but that's like the bare minimum?? That's how normal people would build a relationship, would they not?? (I mean you can date even if you know each other for a week but hey. trust issues)
It's also funny because I actually love fandom shipping, oh I love pairings so much, I love putting my own characters into relationships and I love it when some pairing clicks with my preferences. but like hell I don't even know what they are feeling and I am probably dooming the romance a little too much but I like poetic shit. I just wish. I experienced a fraction of this. but not right now because I'd be uncomfortable. I want to dissect my brain. We could argue that "Hey Albo you probably write them through the lens of friends with benefits" DING DING DING WRONG. well not entirely because it feels like how I view relationships in general is friends. with benefits. but not entirely but like??? this shit is so complicated. none of my ocs are officially friends with benefits lmao they and my favourits characters have "proper" relationships. Maybe the reason why I like pairings is my creative attempt to tap into something I have not experienced. and ofc these relationships are not perfect but that's what I love about characters and people and------
Maybe that means I am not a lost cause entirely? But like... I understand the deeper connection between people but I have not felt it if it makes sense. I can't come up with a metaphor you get me
But I cannot see myself in a relationship. And I really want to.
And I am well aware that relationships do not have to fit a structure or be stereotypical, it can be anything
But also..thinking about relationships still makes me want to prioritize my autonomy and it feels like a relationship takes so much of your time, and some type of force keeps people together for decades, even living together. "duh Albo that's what you do in a relationship, usually". I know! And I still dedicate time to my friends but it feels like getting into a relationship would be very restricting.... or maybe I am hoping for the only ideal unrealistic option again..... sigh
Even though I could keep living as I do now, for some reason I am afraid my friends are going to eventually prioritize their significant others. we should not go there right now
I just don't want to stay alone forever.
I know there are demisexuals but that's not my case entirely
and yes even though I think I still have the label bisexual somewhere every single time pride month arrives I put the green stripes on my accounts because well it stays consistent for now
and I am in my early 20's oops
what is wrong with me (rhetorical)
Aromantics who want a relationship are Valid
Aromantics who DON'T want a relationship are a Valid
Aromantics who hope to feel romantic attraction are Valid
Aromantics who feel a LITTLE romantic attraction are Valid
Aromantics who are romance repulsed are Valid.
Aromantics that enjoy sex are Valid
Aromantics who "Sleep around" are Valid
Aromantics who want kids are Valid
Aroaces are Valid
Allosexual Aromantics are Valid
Queer Aromantics are Valid
Hetro Aromantics are Valid
AROMANTICS ARE FUCKING VALID
#oops I wrote so much tumblr couldn't process it I had to cut my writing...#albo tryndyt'#NOT TO BE DRAMATIC ON TUMBLR BUT IDK I HAVE LIKE A THOUSAND THOUGHTS PER SECOND#I HAVE TO STOP THIS SELF REFLECTION#ill go digest my otp fanart
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Has dadbf Rafe ever gone too far sexually with her? Like maybe she had to use their safe word because she felt overwhelmed? I can see him absolutely crumbling inside knowing he pushed her too far
a/n— dbf!rafe is back, loved this <3 reminds me of the line in 505 by artic monkeys “but I crumble completely when you cry”
Rafe had you pinned beneath him, his hands gripping your wrists above your head. His kisses were rough, heated, everything was fast and relentless. The pressure of his hand on your throat was firm, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “You’ve been such a brat all week. Thought you could push me and get away with it? Hm slut?”
You tried to respond, but the intensity of his actions made it hard to breathe, not just physically, but emotionally. His body pressed you into the mattress, and his roughness wasn’t the usual thrilling kind. It felt too much, too rough, overwhelming.
“Rafe—” you tried, your voice faint and shaky, but he didn’t catch it as he kept going. You managed to choke out the safe word that you both had agreed upon, your heart racing.
He froze instantly, his grip on your wrists loosening as his eyes darted to yours in alarm. “What?” he whispered.
You swallowed hard, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes as you repeated the safe word softly, your voice breaking.
He immediately pulled back, his hands releasing you completely as he scrambled off you, sitting on the bed with wide, panicked eyes. “Oh my God, baby, I— I’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
You sat up slowly, wrapping your arms around yourself, trying to steady your breathing. “I just, It was too much. I felt overwhelmed.”
Rafe’s hands were trembling as he reached for you, but then he stopped himself, unsure if you wanted him to touch you. “I didn’t realize—I didn’t mean to—I swear I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.
You nodded, trying to calm both yourself and him. “I know. You stopped when I needed you to. I’m okay now.”
But the look on his face was devastating. He looked like a man who had just shattered something precious. “I should’ve been paying more attention. I—fuck, I hate myself for this,” he muttered, running a hand through his buzzed hair in frustration.
His gentleness returned as he grabbed a blanket and carefully wrapped it around you. “You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice full of regret. “You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
He stayed beside you, stroking your curls and kissing your forehead as you calmed down. “I’m so so sorry,” he repeated over and over, his voice barely above a whisper.
When it was time to sleep, you turned away, still feeling unsettled. Rafe didn’t push it. He tucked you in, brushing your hair out of your face before whispering, “I love you.” You didn’t respond, and he quietly moved to the chair in the corner, leaving you to rest.
You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty. Rafe was sitting on the edge of a chair in the corner, his head in his hands.
“Rafe?” you called softly, sitting up.
His head snapped up, and his face was etched with guilt. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
You climbed out of bed and padded over to him. “What’s wrong?”
He sighed, his shoulders tense. “I feel like shit. I pushed you too hard, and I hurt you. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
You knelt in front of him, placing your head on his knees and looking up at him. “Rafe, I’m okay now. You stopped when I needed you to. That’s what matters.”
“It’s not okay,” he said, his voice cracking. “You trust me, and I broke that tonight.”
You shook your head. “No, you didn’t. You listened when I said the safe word. You took care of me. That’s what trust is.”
He still looked unconvinced, so you stood and wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek to his chest. His arms came around you slowly, and he exhaled shakily.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into your curls, holding you tightly.
“I know,” you whispered back, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “I forgive you.”
He kissed you softly and whispered, “I love you,” as his lips trailed along your forehead and cheeks.
“I love you too,” you replied, curling up with him on the bed. This time, when his arms wrapped around you, they felt like home. You both drifted off, holding each other close.
#dbf!rafe cameron x reader#dbf!rafe cameron#dbf!rafe#rafe cameron angst#black reader#rafe cameron x reader angst#rafe cameron x black reader#rafe cameron x black!reader#rafe cameron x fem!reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron obx#rafe cameron smut#outerbanks season 4#outerbanks fanfiction#outer banks#obx fanfiction#obx#obx x reader#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks rafe cameron
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THROB • JIMMY USO
author's note: hi my loves!! honestly have nothing to say other than this was a random idea that was born out of how fine jimmy looked here I hope y'all enjoy it😭
synopsis: in which you've been ovulating and taking your frustrations out on jimmy because you're too stubborn to ask him for what you need. lucky for you, jimmy knows just what to do to get you to act right.
tags: 18+(MDNI), jimmy uso x fem reader, established relationship, arguments, bratty behavior, teasing, breast sucking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), big jim™ , overstimulation, lots of dirty talk, squirting, creampie, slight humiliation, degradation, jimmy is a lil mean in this, dacryphilia, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, doggy style, mating press, small aftercare at the end.
word count: 3.2k words
You were pacing back and forth in the living room, arms crossed, your brow furrowed so tightly it could’ve scared the undertaker away. Every little thing Jimmy did irritated you, though you knew deep down it wasn’t his fault. He sat there on the couch, broad shoulders relaxed, his tattoos flexing subtly as he scrolled through his phone. His usual goofy grin wasn’t there, though. He was watching you, trying to hold back his amusement.
“Why you stompin’ ‘round here like a lil’ ass gremlin, huh?” Jimmy’s deep voice cut through your mumbling, making you whip your head toward him.
“I ain’t stompin’, Jimmy! Maybe if you’d do somethin’ helpful for once like puttin’ your damn shoes away from in front of the door instead of sittin’ there, I wouldn’t be irritated!” You snapped, your tone sharp.
Jimmy slowly raised an eyebrow, setting his phone down. That cheeky grin started creeping back onto his face, and it only made you more annoyed. “Girl, ain’t no way you talkin’ to me like that. You been barkin’ at me all week, and I let it slide ‘cause I know what timing you’re on. But you really gon’ sit here and act like I don’t know why you mad?”
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms tighter. “I ain’t mad, Jimmy.”
“Oh, so you just bein’ a brat for fun? I’m supposed to believe that?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his smirk widening as he caught the way your thighs clenched together at the shift in his tone.
Your body betrayed you. It always did when he was around, especially now. The heat between your legs was unbearable, and your nipples were pebbled, brushing against the soft fabric of your tank top in a way that had you biting back whimpers. Normally, you’d have your vibrator for relief when he was on the road, but he’d been home all week. Which fucked up your usual routine you had going and now you're too stubborn to ask him.
Jimmy tilted his head, his dark eyes dragging over your body like he already knew what you were hiding. “Yeah, see, I know exactly what’s goin’ on with you, baby girl. You think you tough huh? You don’t even need to tell me nothin’. I can see it in the way you walkin’ ‘round here all moody.”
“Jimmy, shut up,” you shot back, though your voice cracked slightly. He noticed.
“Nah, I’m gon’ keep talkin’. Matter fact, come here,” he said, his voice taking on that commanding edge that made your knees weak.
You hesitated, shooting him a glare. “Why?”
“‘Cause I said so, that’s why. Don’t make me come over there and get you.” He leaned back, spreading his legs in that laid-back, cocky way that showed off the sheer size of him. His gray sweats left nothing to the imagination, and the way his dick pressed against the fabric had your mouth watering despite your irritation.
With a heavy sigh, you walked over, but your attitude wasn’t going anywhere. “What, Jim? You gon’ keep talkin’ shit?”
He chuckled, reaching out to grab your wrist and tugging you between his legs. “Girl, you just mad ‘cause you’re neglecting what you need. But you too damn stubborn to ask for it, huh?” He let his hands slide down to your hips, squeezing them as he pulled you closer.
“Jimmy, I swear to God—”
“You swear to God what?” he interrupted, his voice dropping lower. His thumbs pressed into the softness of your hips, holding you in place. “You ain’t gon’ do shit, baby. Stop frontin’.”
The heat in his gaze melted your resolve, but you couldn’t let him win that easily. “You just know everything, huh?”
He smiled, leaning forward to press his lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I know you ovulatin’,” he murmured. “And I know you ain’t been able to take care of yourself like you usually do. You need daddy to take care of you, hm?”
Your breath hitched, and you tried to step back, but his grip tightened. “Jimmy, stop playin’—”
“Who said I’m playin’?” He tilted his head up to look at you, his expression softening just enough to make your heart flutter. “Why you bein’ difficult, huh? This what you wanted, ain’t it?”
You tried to keep up your defiance, but when his lips trailed down your neck, you couldn’t hold back the shiver that coursed through you. “Jimmy…”
“There she is,” he teased, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “Now, you gon’ ask me nice, or you gon’ keep actin’ like a spoiled lil’ brat?”
Your pride wrestled with your desire, but the way his hands roamed your body and his voice dripped with authority had you caving. “Please,” you whispered, barely audible.
He cupped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Please what, baby? Let daddy hear you.”
“Please, daddy,” you repeated, your voice trembling with anticipation.
A satisfying grin spread across his face as he leaned back, patting his thigh. “There we go. Now, sit that pretty ass down. You got some apologizin’ to do.”
You climbed onto his lap, straddling him as his hands immediately found their way under your tank top. His palms were warm against your bare skin, sliding up to cup your breasts. You gasped when his thumbs brushed over your sensitive nipples, and he chuckled darkly.
“Damn, these are real sensitive, huh?” he said, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. His tongue flicked over the hardened bud, and your hips bucked against him involuntarily.
“Shit!” you cried out, clutching his shoulders as your body betrayed every ounce of control you thought you had left.
“Shh, baby, let me take care of you,” he murmured, switching to the other nipple. His teeth grazed it gently, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.
You whimpered, grinding against him as the pressure built inside you. “Daddy, please, I need…”
“I know what you need, baby girl. But you gon’ learn not to keep this shit from me.” His hands slid down to your ass, giving it a firm slap that made you yelp. “Next time, you gon’ tell daddy what you need, understand?”
“Yes, daddy,” you whispered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the overwhelming sensation.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed your lips softly before flipping you over onto the couch. “Now, lay back and let daddy handle the rest.”
Jimmy hovered over you now, his larger frame trapping you beneath him on the couch. His hands gripped your thighs possessively, thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that sent shivers straight to your core. You stared up at him, panting, your chest heaving as his dark eyes raked over you. That playful grin he usually wore was gone, replaced by something darker, more intense. He licked his lips like a predator sizing up its prey, and you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him.
“Mm-mm,” he growled, pressing his hands down harder to still your movements. “Ain’t no runnin’, baby. You wanted this, didn’t you? All week, you been actin’ up snappin’, throwin’ them lil’ ass tantrums, tryna to act like you don’t need me. But I know you,” His voice almost in a mocking tone. “Your body been screamin’ for me since I came back, mama.”
You whimpered, your pride dissolving under the weight of his words. “I—Jimmy, please…”
“Please what?” His hands slipped beneath your shorts, gripping the soft flesh of your ass. “What you need from daddy?”
The way he said it so smooth, teasing, but dripping with authority had your resolve crumbling completely. “I need you to fuck me,” you breathed, barely audible.
He smirked, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? But you still owe me an apology, baby. You gon’ tell daddy you sorry for bein’ a brat?”
Your cheeks burned. “I’m sorry, daddy,” you whispered.
“Mean it,” he says, his tone sharp enough to make you obedient. His hands tightened on your thighs, reminding you exactly who was in control here. “I know you can do better than that.”
“I’m sorry, daddy,” you whimpered out, your voice trembling with need.
Jimmy grinned, clearly satisfied. “Good girl. Now let’s see if you can keep that same energy when I’m done with you.”
Before you could respond, he tugged your shorts and panties down in one smooth motion, leaving you completely exposed. His eyes locked onto the slickness between your thighs, and he let out a low whistle. “Damn, look at you. I didn’t even touch you yet and you already wet as hell.”
You whimpered, trying to close your legs, but he wouldn’t let you. “Jimmy, don’t tease me…”
“Who you think you talkin’ to?” he shot back sharply, grabbing your knees and spreading them wider. “You don’t call the shots here, baby girl. Now stay still.”
His hands gripped your thighs as he lowered his head in between your legs. The first swipe of his tongue against your clit had you crying out, your hips jerking off the couch. Jimmy chuckled, pinning you down with ease. “I said be still, didn’t I? You gon’ listen, or you want me to tie you down?”
“D-daddy, I—” Your words dissolved into a moan as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue working you over with precision. The combination of his lips, tongue, and the slight scrape of his teeth had your body trembling uncontrollably.
You tried to squirm away when the pleasure became too much, but Jimmy wasn’t having it. He slid two fingers inside you without warning, curling them just right to hit that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “Stop fuckin’ runnin’,” he growled, his voice muffled against your pussy. “This what you wanted, huh? So take it.”
You sobbed his name, your nails digging into the couch as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. He didn’t let up, his pace relentless as his fingers pumped in and out of you, his mouth never leaving your clit. “Oh my God, Jimmy, I’m gonna—”
“Yeah, you gon’ cum for daddy?” he taunted, his eyes gleaming as he looked up at you. “Do it, baby.”
The coil in your stomach snapped, and you came hard, your back arching off the couch as your orgasm tore through you. You screamed his name, your thighs shaking as he kept working you through it, refusing to let up. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, licking his lips as he finally pulled back. “You look so pretty when you cum, baby.”
You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he was pulling his sweats down, freeing himself. It was as thick and heavy as ever, and the sight of it made your mouth water. He stroked himself slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “You ready for this, baby? You gon’ be good for me?”
“Please, daddy,” you begged, your voice shaky. “I need you.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he said, positioning himself at your entrance. He slid the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing you until you were whining in frustration. “Damn, you so wet, baby. You gon’ take all of me, huh?”
“Yes, daddy, please,” you plead. “Please put it in..”
Jimmy finally pushed inside, and the stretch had you gasping, your nails clawing at his arms. “Fuck,” he groaned, his voice low and rough. “You so fuckin’ tight, baby. Been missin’ me, huh?”
You could barely form words, the fullness of him stealing your breath. “Fuck… yes daddy,” you managed to choke out, your legs trembling as he buried himself to the hilt.
“That’s right,” he growled, pulling back and slamming into you again. “This my pussy, baby. Don’t forget that.”
He set a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with enough force to make the couch creak beneath you. Each thrust sent delicious shockwaves through your body, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You were already on the verge of another orgasm, your body still sensitive from your previous release.
“Why you runnin’, baby?” he teased, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. “This what you been actin’ out for, huh? So take it.”
“I’m tryin’ daddy!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as your second orgasm crashed over you. Your body convulsed beneath him, and you felt yourself gush around him, soaking his thighs.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his pace faltering for a moment. “You squirtin’ for me now? you so fuckin’ nasty, that’s my good girl.”
But he didn’t stop. If anything, he fucked you harder, flipping you over onto your stomach and pulling your hips up so he could take you from behind. The new angle had you screaming into the disarrayed couch cushions, your body trembling uncontrollably.
“You gon’ tell daddy you sorry again?” he growled, spanking your ass hard enough to leave a sting. “Say it.”
“I’m sorry, daddy!” you cried out, your voice muffled. “I’ll be good, I promise!”
“Yeah, you gon’ be good now, huh?” He gripped your hair, pulling your head back as he pounded into you mercilessly. “You ain’t got no choice, baby. Daddy gon’ fuck all that attitude outta you.”
Jimmy didn’t let up for a second. His grip on your hair kept you pinned in place as his cock slammed into you relentlessly, the sound of your ragged cries filling the room. You could feel the heat of his body pressing down on yours, his weight anchoring you as if there was no escape—not that you wanted there to be anyway.
“Look at you,” he growled, leaning over until his lips brushed against your ear. His breath was hot and heavy, dripping with amusement. “All that attitude, all that shit talkin’, and now you cryin’ for daddy, huh? You so fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. All obedient for me.”
You whimpered, barely able to form words as his cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you. Your body was overstimulated, every nerve on fire, and the wetness between your thighs only made it worse. “D-daddy, it’s too much,” you choked out, trembling beneath him.
“Too much?” he repeated mockingly, pulling your head back further until you were arching against him. “Nah, baby, you can take it.”
He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust that made your back bow, another broken sob spilling from your lips. Tears were streaking your cheeks as he fucked you harder, his pace unrelenting. The sting of another spank sent a jolt through you, the sharp pain only intensifying the overwhelming pleasure.
“Tell me what you is,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding. “Go on, baby. Say it.”
“I’m—I’m your slut, daddy,” you gasped, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own moans.
“Damn right you are,” he snarled, slamming into you so hard the couch creaked beneath you. “And don’t you forget it. This is my pussy. Say it.”
“It’s yours, daddy..fuck!” you cried out, your voice breaking as you felt another orgasm building, threatening to drown you.
“That’s right,” he growled, pulling out suddenly and flipping you onto your back before you could even catch your breath. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he lined himself up again. “And I’m gon’ remind you every fuckin’ time you forget.”
The first thrust in this position had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your nails clawing at his arms as his cock hit a deeper angle. His weight pressed down on you, forcing your thighs against your chest as he pounded into you like he had something to prove. You could feel the muscles in his arms flexing beneath your hands, his strength keeping you pinned in place as he wrecked you.
“Fuck, baby, you feel that?” he groaned, his voice thick with arousal. “Feel how deep I am? I’m right where I’m supposed to be, fillin’ that pussy up. And you gon’ take all of me like a good girl, huh?”
“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his biceps as the pressure built inside you. “Please don’t stop—please…”
He smirked, leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. The heat of his tongue against your sensitive skin sent you spiraling, your back arching as you came again, harder this time. Your body convulsed beneath him, the pleasure so intense it almost hurt.
“Fuck, look at you,” he muttered, his voice laced with pride as he watched you fall apart beneath him. “That’s my girl. You so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”
Even as your body trembled and tears streaked your cheeks, he kept going, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls with every brutal thrust. “You said you wanted it, baby,” he teased, his tone both mean and sweet. “You been talkin’ shit all week so don’t tap out now.”
“Daddy, I—” Your words dissolved into a choked sob as he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. His hips snapped against yours with a punishing rhythm, the pleasure teetering dangerously close to pain.
“You cryin’, baby?” he taunted, leaning down to kiss the tears off your cheeks. “Aw, don’t tell me it’s too much now.”
“I can’t—Jimmy, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” he growled, his voice firm but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “You gon’ take it, baby. You was made for this dick, and I’mma remind you every fuckin’ time.”
He reached down between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. The added stimulation sent you spiraling, another orgasm tearing through you before you could stop it. You whimpered his name, your body trembling violently as your walls clenched around him.
“Shit,” he groaned, his pace faltering as your orgasm milked him. “You tryna make me cum, baby? You want daddy to give you a baby, huh? Want me to fill this pretty pussy?”
“Yes, daddy, please,” you whined, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please cum in me, daddy.”
That was all it took. With a low growl, Jimmy slammed into you one last time, his cock twitching as he came deep inside you. The warmth of his release filled you, and you moaned at the sensation, your body shuddering beneath him. He didn’t pull out right away, instead grinding into you slowly, making sure you felt every last drop.
“Fuck, baby,” he muttered, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. “You did so good for me. Took it all like a damn champ.”
You whimpered softly, your body still trembling from the aftershocks. “Thank you, daddy,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. “Ain’t no need to thank me, baby. You earned that.”
Jimmy finally pulled out, and you winced at the emptiness. He watched as his cum dripped out of you, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips. “Damn, look at that. You so fuckin’ sexy, baby.”
Your face heated up, turning your face away, but he grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don’t get shy on me now,” he teased, his voice softer but no less commanding. “You did good, baby. Real good. Daddy’s so proud of you.”
A small smile crept onto your lips despite the exhaustion weighing you down. “I love you, Jimmy.”
“I love you too, baby girl,” he said, kissing your forehead. “Now let’s get you cleaned up. You gon’ need your strength for round two.”
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