#I paid $30 just to watch this race

[4unnyr0se]

PLS BOKUTO SMUT I WILL SELL YOU MY SOUL VIV 🙏🙏🙏

❥ nepenthe | kotaro bokuto

warnings: timeskip! bokuto, fem! reader, mutual pining, bokuto is emo in the beginning, dry humping/grinding, multiple orgasms, making out, incredibly lewd dialogue, fingering, missionary, two text messages, unprotected sex, tiny corruption kink, possessive! bokuto if u squint, extreme fluff at the end, bokuto is a semi-hard dom in bed, atsumu, hinata and sakusa mentioned, not proofread (unless u count grammarly)

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.3k (lol)

opal i would write anything for u i love u sm

got a request? asks are open!

Being on the MSBY Black Jackals was all the Bokuto could ever dream of. Playing on a team made up of his peers, the adoring cheers from the crowd filled his ears and boosted his ego. He especially loved how cute the girls in the stands were and how they wore merchandized versions of his jersey. People paid good money to watch him play, him. Was there nothing better than the universe could offer him? Indeed, Kotaro Bokuto’s life was perfectly perfect. 

Except until recently. He had missed a significant spike in the latest game against the Alders, which nearly cost him the match. He was not okay. But that was just a first-time thing, right? Indeed, he would not miss a spike in tomorrow’s practice. He’s Bokuto; he doesn’t miss spikes. And then he missed nearly all of his spikes. He was not doing well when he returned to his penthouse apartment that evening. Was he in a slump?

His golden eyes flicked back and forth on his ceiling as he lay in his plush bed, hands crossed over his chest in thought. Why was he acting like this? He occasionally missed a spike, but that was a rare event. Was he missing them so frequently? What if he wasn’t as good of a volleyball player as he thought? Anxiety plagued his mind, making him toss and turn in his cotton comforter decorated with owls (stylish owls, of course). Bokuto’s black and white hair became incredibly messy, reflecting his inner thoughts. Luckily, he had a means of comforting himself. When the opposite hitter wasn’t doing so well at times like these, he could always turn to you, one of his beloved Black Jackal Managers. 

You were the kindest of all the managers he had, that was for sure. While the other seven managers focused on scheduling or payroll, you were the personality hire. Your pretty face automatically boosted the morale of the entire team, like a beam of sunlight poking out from the clouds after a thunderstorm. Bokuto liked you; he really liked you. Every single practice, he would pray that you’d be there, sitting on your chair, diligently taking notes while wearing that MSBY windbreaker that covered the curves of your breasts in the most annoying manner possible. Fuck, you were so damn pretty.

Bokuto reached for his phone, which was charging on the bedside table, scrolling through his messages until he landed on your chat from a couple of weeks ago. The topic was simple: What kind of onigiri did he want from Onigiri Miya? It was just a question, but the notification made his heart race every time he read it. The pads of his thumbs hovered over the keypad for a moment, unsure of how to word his message. He wanted you to visit him. Why couldn’t he just type that? After minutes of contemplation, he had sent his message. Bokuto’s phone was thrown to the other side of the bed, nearly getting lost in the mess of thick duvet. The opposite hitter slammed his face into his fluffed pillow, groaning into the fabric. 

Kotaro Bokuto: Wanna come over and talk? Been feeling really down recently. :( 

It felt like hours since he sent the text, looking at where he tossed his phone every other minute to see if the home screen lit up. Finally, after agonizingly painful minutes passed, his screen lit up with your message, the cute little heart icon next to your name making him break out in a crooked smile. 

Cute Manager: I’ll be over in 30 minutes. Bringing my famous sugar cookies! They always brighten someone’s day <3

Bokuto practically threw himself off his bed, looking around his messy apartment. Shit, had that smell always been there? Why (and how) was there a sock on the ceiling fan? Don’t even get him started on the empty packages that littered his living room floor; this was a disaster. He had to ensure it was perfect for you, his angelic manager. You thought so highly of him; he wasn’t about to lose that due to a messy apartment. 

He cleaned like a man gone wild, sensual R&B music playing from a speaker in his kitchen. He had obtained three full trash bags and one spilling-over hamper, but he had made his apartment look presentable. The counters were no longer sticky, and the sock was down from the fan, thanks to him expertly flinging rubber bands at the blades. Bokuto was proud of himself, bearing a satisfied smirk while his hands rested on his hips in a hero pose. 

The doorbell rang. Oh fuck, how were you here already? Did half an hour seriously pass by so quickly? He didn’t even have time to change out of his black tank top! Maybe that was a good thing? Perhaps you liked looking at his massive biceps. Whatever, he didn’t have time to think about all that. His cute manager was waiting behind that door with a plate of delicious sugar cookies!

Bokuto swung the door open a little too enthusiastically, his crooked smile fully displayed amongst his handsome features. His golden eyes instantly landed on your figure, drinking in your outfit. A low-cut black scoop neck top with oversized ripped jeans; fucking perfection. You offered him a kind smile and held out the wrapped-up plate of cookies, tilting your head to the side. “Hey, Bokuto! I’m here, like I promised. Oh, and I brought the cookies. Don’t ask for the recipe because I won’t tell!” you giggled, stepping inside his apartment. It was cleaner than you imagined, and it smelled like roses. Who knew that Bokuto could be so neat?

“Woah, it’s even bigger than I imagined! Sometimes I forget how much professional athletes make annually,” you joked, kicking off your ballet flats on the shoe stand. “You must have an amazing view at night, look at the city! It’s gorgeous.” you turned to Bokuto and smiled, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s been a while since we last hung out, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah! I guess it has, eh? Time flies when you’re a Black Jackal!” Bokuto awkwardly stammered, growing increasingly flustered as the almond shape of your manicured nails made contact with his muscular shoulders. “Thanks for coming over so quickly; I thought you were at a club or something.”

You shook your head and leaned against the raised kitchen counter, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, I hate clubs. It’s always so stuffy in there, and there’s always a hand on your ass, whether you want it or not.” you brushed your hair to the side, exposing your neck. The perfume you had to carefully put on, a mixture of lilac and jasmine, filled Bokuto’s nostrils. He was only a few feet from your body, yet the aroma drove him secretly insane. “What about you, do you like clubs? You seem like the type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bokuto asked, pretending to clutch his pearls.

“Well, you’re extroverted and love having a good time. That’s what the clubs are for, aren’t they?” you paused your speech, matching his gaze with your own. “But you haven’t been having a good time recently, have you?”

Bokuto shook his head and slumped onto the sofa, his bottom lip curling into a childish pout. “No, you’re right. I just can’t hit my stupid spikes! Atsumu’s been on my ass about it like it’s my fault that I can’t seem to hit them! I mean, I guess it’s my fault…whatever! I don’t know what I’m saying anymore!” he slammed his face in his hands, groaning in exasperation. 

You smiled softly and sat next to him, patting his muscular back. “Hey, it’ll be alright. You’ve hit amazing spikes before, and you’ll hit amazing spikes again. I know you will.” your soft hands ran up and down the thin fabric of his tank top, massaging the tense muscles underneath. “We all have our slumps, you know. Nobody is perfect, not even Atsumu. Besides,” your lips were centimeters away from his ear. “Atsumu is my least favorite.”

Bokuto chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing your cheek against his pectoral. “Yeah, but he’s really funny! Except when he texts the group chat with me, Shoyo, and Sakusa…then he gets really gross. Usually about the women he slept with or something.”

“Ew,” you blush softly as Bokuto's muscular bicep wraps around your waist, his large hand squeezing the fabric of your jeans. “So, are you feeling any better now? Do you wanna eat a cookie and watch a movie, maybe? What would make you feel better?” you could feel his heartbreak in his chest, the thumbing sensation of the organ being a somewhat calming presence. “Because when you’re sad, the Jackals can’t really get anything done. No offense.”

Bokuto chuckled and squeezed you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. God, you smelled fucking amazing. Did you always smell so good? “I’m down for a movie if you’re down. What kind of movie were you thinking of?”

“Comedy, maybe? I don’t know, you can pick,” you replied.

“Comedy it is,” Bokuto leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, turning on the massive television he owned. His hand remained firmly grasped on your waist, occasionally running his thumb up and down the denim of your high-waisted jeans. He flicked through a couple of films under the comedy section in his DVR until he selected a random one. He chose it solely on how fantastic the movie poster was, naturally. 

The opening credits played from the surround sound speakers, and his hand was still snug on your waist, his golden eyes occasionally stealing a chaste look. You were smaller than him, so he really only got to see the top of your head, but you were so fucking adorable. Bokuto thought it was vital that you didn’t push him away after he wrapped his arm around you and that you welcomed his touch. You trusted him so much, making his heart beat a million miles a minute. 

The movie's beginning was hilarious, as expected from an award-winning comedy. Bokuto’s laugh was deep in comparison to yours. Of course, your laugh was adorable; why wouldn’t it be? He felt as though his heart would explode from your presence, beating erratically in his chest.

“Are you feeling okay? Your heart is beating really fast,” you questioned, lifting your face from its comfortable resting spot on his chest. “Do you need anything at all?”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to say. Should he just confess how much he wants you, how much he craves to have your lips on his own? What if you rejected his advances and quit managing the team? “Uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart, did he really just say that? Bokuto cringed at himself.

A small smile graced your delicate features at the endearing name, your tiny hand resting on his chest. “Bokuto, I’m always going to worry about my team. Especially you, you’re my favorite. Did you know that?”

His mind went blank for a second. He was your favorite. He was your favorite. Out of all the members of the Black Jackals, you liked him the most. “I-I didn’t know that at all, am I actually your favorite? You aren’t messing with me or anything?”

“Why would I lie about that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just…you’re beautiful. And I’m your favorite…it makes me feel special. I know I’m already special, just like, more special. Y’know?” 

“You think I’m beautiful?” your eyes bore into his once more, the chatter from the movie falling on deaf ears. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

Bokuto softly smiled at you, adoring how the light from the television illuminated your blushing face. “Yeah, I really think so. I’ve thought that for a while since you were hired.” his other hand cupped the right side of your face, his calloused thumb running across your cheekbone. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty, too?”

You giggled and rested your hand on Bokuto’s, smiling brightly. “Yeah, I think you’re beautiful, Bokuto. And handsome and adorable.” you leaned upwards, your noses touching. “You’re funny, kind, and sometimes a little too confident. You’re sensitive, and you care so much about your teammates. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I want you to have me,” he whispered, his voice a low baritone. “Please, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me that I can have you, even if it’s just for tonight.” his lips hovered over yours, not daring to do anything without your permission. “Because if you say it’s okay, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, sweetness.”

His hot breath tickled the tiny hairs on your face, mouth slightly agape. You gulped and nodded, closing your eyes while his hands cupped your cheeks. “It’s okay, Kotaro.”

The sound of his given name falling from your lips was all he needed to press his mouth to yours in a searing kiss filled with unfulfilled desires. It was slow and sensual, yet it held so much molten passion. His lips molded with yours so perfectly, the taste of your chapstick making him savor you even more. His hands fled your face and grasped onto your hips, pulling you into his lap with no trouble at all. Bokuto pressed your chest against his own, groaning against your petal-like lips. A spark was set in his lower belly, his hands trailing down to your ass. He squeezed the denim fabric, eliciting an adorable squeak from your mouth. 

You pulled away after a moment, both of your faces incredibly flushed. “Shit,” Bokuto breathed out, toying with the hem of your jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, sweetness.”

“Me too,” you whispered, kissing his neck gently. “I’ve been wanting to do this,” you placed another kiss, then another, and another. “For so fucking long.” you nibbled onto his collarbone playfully, earning yourself a beautiful moan from Bokuto’s bruised lips. 

“Fuck, I never pegged you for a biter. Thought I would always be the one biting you,” he purred, slipping his hands underneath your jeans and panties. You gasped at the coldness of his hands on your warm skin, how his fingers kneaded the supple flesh of your ass. “But I guess I can let you nibble on me for a little longer since you’re so damn pretty.”

“When did you get so good at flirting, hm?” you began to suckle on his collarbone.

“The moment I got signed to the Black Jackals. They’re, fuck, they’re a bunch of womanizers.” he softly moaned at the sensation of your teeth suckling at his tough flesh. “Taught me a thing or two.”

You pulled away from his neck and smiled, kissing his forehead. “So I take it you picked up a thing or two?”

“Damn right, I have,” his hands squeezed your ass once more. “Can you do me a favor and take these off, sweetness? I’ll take mine off, too. That way, we’re even.”

You got off his lap and shimmied out of your jeans, tossing them aside along with your top. You wore a matching bra and panty set, the black fabric hugging your curves tenderly. “Now, you do yours. Don’t keep me waiting, Ko’.” 

His nickname rang in his ears, your voice making it drip like honey. Bokutp practically ripped off his clothes, leaving him in only his MSBY boxers. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.” he leaned into the leather couch, spreading his legs. “C’mere gorgeous, sit on my lap.”

Bokuto’s hands once again cupped your ass as you straddled his lap, admiring how thick his thighs were. You had never noticed it before, but Bokuto was a big guy. “That’s it, good girl. Right on my thigh there, pretty.”

“Fuck,” you moaned as your clothed pussy made contact with his bare thigh, unconsciously rubbing against it. “You’re really fucking sexy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Bokuto pulled you into another kiss, aggressively slamming his lips against yours while his hands remained glued to your ass. His tongue prodded against your lips impatiently, begging to be let inside your mouth. You happily obliged, a mewl falling from your lips as his tongue briefly danced with yours. Bokuto pulled away, breaking the strand of saliva that connected your lips. “Your voice is too damn pretty,” his hand cracked against your ass, causing you to grind further onto his thigh. Embarrassed, you hid your face in his bruised neck, earning a smug smirk from Bokuto. “Oh, did that feel good, baby? Don’t be shy now; you can tell me.” he smacked your ass once more, relishing in your pleasurable squeaks and squeals. “Does someone like it when I smack their ass?”

“Y-yeah!” you whimpered into his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hips bucked against his thigh, your core desperate for friction. “Please, lemme ride your thigh. You feel so fucking good, Ko’.”

Bokuto threw his head back at your begging, his cock growing painfully hard in his boxers. “Yeah, you wanna grind on my thigh, pretty girl?” he squeezed the plushness of your thigh. “I’m the only one who can make you feel this way, right? Because I’m the best. Say it, and you can do whatever you want.” 

You let out a broken sigh and pulled your face out from his neck, your pearly whites nibbling at the shell of his ear. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good, Kotaro.” Your breath was sweet and sensual, and you were full of wanting for your release. “Please, I wanna ride your thigh.”

“Good girl,” he praised, gripping onto your hips. He began to drag you up and down his thigh, embracing the cute little noises you made. “That’s it, baby, talk to me. Tell me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

“So good! So good, Ko’.” you whimpered, a warmth sensation bubbling up inside your belly as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh. Your small hands rested on his abs, running up and down the prevalent muscle. “T-talk to me, helps me get off–fuck!” you tossed your head back, hair falling out of your face as Bokuto purposefully flexed his thigh muscle. 

He groaned at the sight of you, head thrown back, tits bouncing in your bra as you used his thigh to get yourself off. His goddess of a manager was using him to cum, his thigh. It was so fucking perfect. “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that? You come to practice in those short shorts that show off your ass so well. Do you know what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you moaned, feeling your climax approach quickly. You were basically rutting yourself against his thigh like a bitch in heat, and it felt fucking incredible. 

“Every time you bent over, I thought about this ass,” he smacked the exposed flesh, definitely leaving a handprint later. “Thought about squeezing it, about smacking it, how it would look wearing slutty black panties.” Bokuto flexed his thigh muscles even more, giving you a sturdier surface to grind on. 

“Thought about you clawing at my back while I fuck you in the locker room, so the rest of the team can back the fuck off. Keep you all to myself, my pretty manager.” he spat through his teeth, gripping your jaw tightly with his hand. “Look at me when you cum, pretty girl. Wanna see that cute little face.” his thumb ran across your bottom lip, pulling slightly.

Your mouth went slack-jawed as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes struggling to look at Bokuto while you continued to ride his thigh until you came down from nirvana. “F-fuck!” you sobbed, your hips ceasing their bucking once your high was finished. “Shit, I made a mess on your thigh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bokuto groaned, lifting you off of his thigh so quickly. “Fuck, you soaked your panties. I guess you gotta take them off now, yeah? Bra, too. Don’t be shy around me.” he set you down on the coffee table, your form blocking the movie, but he didn’t care about the movie anymore. There was only you. 

Still shaking from the shockwaves of your release, you slowly stripped yourself of your remaining clothes, placing them down on the glass of the table. Bokuto drank in your view, like an artist staring at a finished painting. You were gorgeous, ethereal, out of this world. Surely, it would be impossible for anyone else to match your beauty. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, pushing himself off of the couch to grab your wrist. “Bedroom. Now.”

He practically dragged you into his bedroom, throwing you down onto the plush owl-themed comforter. You giggled at the childish fabric as Bokuto hovered above you, his hands on either side of your head. “I take it you love owls?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I fucking love owls,” he smirked, leaning down to peck your nose. “Not as much as I love how you look right now, pretty girl.” his right hand squeezed your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple while his left hand managed to continue holding him up.

“You’re such a tease,” you moaned as he pinched your sensitive bud, his massive hand encasing your entire breast. “I thought you wanted to fuck me, Kotaro. Am I wrong?” 

“You aren’t wrong, sweetness,” he purred, rolling his hips against yours. You could feel his cock pulsating through his boxers, begging to be inside you. “Just wanna make sure you’re prepped first. I’m a big guy, y’know?” he stuck his fingers inside of his mouth, coating them with saliva before prodding at your entrance with the digits, slowly sticking them inside your heat. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Did my thigh make you cum that much, princess?”

You gasped as he curled his fingers deep inside of you, his ministrations slow and sensual. “Fuck! Y-yes, y’made me cum so much! Love your thighs, Ko’!” you squeaked, instinctively squeezing your thighs together.

Bokuto tutted and used his free hand to shove your legs apart, now kneeling above you. “Don’t try to hide it, sweetness. You know I don’t like that.” he was not knuckle-deep inside your weeping cunt, his fingers plunging inside so expertly. “Fuck, gotta make sure you’re nice and loose for me, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“S-shit! You’re gonna make me cum again!” you whimpered, grasping onto your breasts for additional stimulation. “God, how do your fingers feel so fucking good?”

“Can’t answer that for you, sweetheart. You wanna cum again, pretty girl? Want me to rub your clit and make a mess all over my hand?” he teased, beginning to massage your sensitive clit with the pad of this thumb. His fingers were still scissoring you open, coating you with the mixture of his saliva and your release. 

“Yes, fuck! Please, Ko’!” you whined, the familiar bubbling sensation in your belly threatening to spill over. Your legs were now dangling over his shoulder, quaking in ecstasy. “Wanna cum, fucking make me cum!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he offered you a mischievous smirk, furiously rubbing his thumb over your clit as you tumbled into pure pleasure once more. Your mouth became agape; your head tossed into the plush pillow behind you. His fingers ceased their movement, sliding out of your cunt covered in your slick. “Shit,” Bokuto mumbled, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “Fucking delicious.”

He gave you another kiss, leaving some of your release on your lips. His boxers were peeled off and thrown onto the nightstand as he fumbled through one of the drawers, cursing at himself. “God dammnit, I know I have one. Where the fuck is it?”

“Looking for a condom?” you asked, the breath still being knocked out of your lungs.

“Yeah, it’s being a pain in the ass to find, though.”

“I’m on the pill.” you plainly state, smiling at him. “You don’t have to use a condom. It’ll be okay with me.” 

Bokuto stopped rummaging through the drawer, turning over to look at you with a look that could only be a mixture of lust and absolute delight. “Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m happy to hit it raw; I just don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

You nodded your head and pulled him close to you by his shoulder, pecking his nose sweetly. “I promise, Kotaro. You don’t have to use a condom when you’re with me.”

“God, that’s music to my fucking ears, baby,” his voice rumbled, his hands resting on the bottoms of your thighs. You were propped up by your elbows and Bokuto’s variety of pillows, his cock painfully hard against his abdomen. “Can’t wait to ruin this fucking pussy.”

You tilted your head to the side in confidence, winking. “Then what are you waiting for?” you spread your legs, exposing your glistening heat to him once more. “Ruin me, Kotaro.”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip and growled, aligning his cock with your cunt. “You have no idea what you’re in for, pretty girl.” the mushroom head pushed past your folds, the newfound sensation causing the both of you to moan softly. “Shit, you’re still so tight. That’s okay,” he chuckled, snapping his hips against yours. His cock slammed inside of you, filling you up so quickly. “I’ll fucking make it fit.”

“Holy shit!” you sobbed, your fingers scrambling for purchase in the bedsheets. “Kotaro!”

“That’s it, baby, scream my name while I fuck this pussy stupid.” Bokuto hissed, pounding into you without giving you the chance to catch your breath. You looked so fucking pretty underneath him, especially the way your greedy pussy took him so well. The way your sobbing walls enveloped him entirely it was perfection. “Taking me so well, good fucking girl.”

Your pathetic mewls were like that of a morning songbird, the most beautiful melody. Bokuto hoisted your legs above his shoulders once again, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You screamed, the head prodding at your cervix. “Fuck, shit, oh my god! Kotaro, f-fuck!”

His thrusts were animalistic as if he were in heat. They were uncalculated and had no rhythm, only a mission to make you stupid on his cock. His hands gripped onto your ankles while he started at your lewd form, admiring how your small hands encased your breasts in an attempt to create more stimulation. How greedy you were. He thought it was adorable. Everything about you was simply adorable. 

“Good fucking girl, that’s my girl,” he groaned as you squeezed around him, pulling him impossibly deep. “Oh, you like it when I call you that? Your pussy is sucking me in, pretty girl.” he teased, smacking the underside of your thigh. 

You attempted to speak, but all that fell from your lips was incoherent babbling. Your mind was all fuzzy, full of nothing but thoughts of Bokuto fucking you senseless. You arched your back further into the mattress, your hair forming the messiest halo above you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the bedroom, the movie in the living room being a thing of the past. 

“My pretty girl can’t speak now, but that’s okay,” Bokuto assured you, punctuating his sentences with a harsh slam inside of you. “I’ll just make you cum again, yeah? We’ll cum at the same time, okay, pretty girl? I know you got one more in you. Wanna give it to me? Don’t you think I deserve it? I wanna hear you say that. Say I deserve to make you cum again!”

“Fuck!” you sobbed, your orgasm dangerously close. You didn’t think you could handle one more, his cock bullying its way in and out of your weeping cunt. “Y’deserve to make me cum again, Kotaro! F-fuck, think I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Don’t fucking hold out on me, baby. You know I like it messy!” Bokuto bent forward, his thrusts becoming more erratic and needy as his cock twitched inside of you, begging for release. “Gonna fucking cum in this pussy, make it all fucking mine!”

“Shit!” you sobbed, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “Kotaro!” his name fell from your lips like a broken pair as you came for the third and final time that night, completely coating his cock in your glistening slick.

“Holy fuck, yeah, yeah! Fucking hell!” Bokuto roared, shooting ropes of cum deep inside your core, creating a new warm sensation in your belly. His thrusts grew slower and slower, almost as if he was attempting to fuck his cum inside of you. “Dont wanna…stop fucking you…but I’m tired.” he groaned, letting your legs fall back onto your chest. “Shit.”

Bokuto shamelessly collapsed onto you, purposely landing on your breast. He lifted his hips so his cock could slide out of you, almost with the thinnest streams of his release down your bruised thighs. “Mmm, that was so fucking good,” he mumbled against your breast, sucking on your pert nipple for a moment. “You got the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

“You flatter me,” your hands ran through his damp black and white strands, acting as a comb. “You felt so fucking good, Kotaro. I’m glad I could help out. Do you think you’ll feel better at tomorrow's practice?”

Bokuto looked up from your breast and smiled brightly, cupping your flushed face with his hands. “I’m totally gonna kick everyone's ass! Atsumu won’t know what’ll hit him!”

“There’s the Bokuto we know and love!” you chuckle. 

“I’m back, baby!” he weakly flexed his muscle, kissing your cheek playfully. “Guess all I needed was my sexy manager. Best damn cure on the planet!”

You rolled your eyes and kissed the top of his head. “You act completely different when you’re inside of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he titled his head.

“Absolutely not. I think it’s adorable. You’re adorable.” you kissed his cheek once more. “So, uh, is it possible for us to do this again sometime? I-it was nice.” your eyes landed on the floor, embarrassed for no reason.

Bokuto flashed you his signature crooked smile and laughed, kissing your neck. “What a stupid question. Of course, we can do this again! We basically confessed before I fucked you, remember?”

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot.” you awkwardly chuckled, leaning into his enthusiastic kisses. “Maybe your dick knocked all the brains out of my skull.”

“But then you won’t have any more left when you watch us practice!” Bokuto whined, snuggling his face into your chest once more. “You gotta have some brain left, okay?”

“Okay, Kotaro,” you mumbled, your eyelids growing heavy. “Hey…it’s pretty late. Would it be okay if I slept here for the night? I understand if you don’t want me to.”

“Hell yeah, you can sleep here!” He cheered softly, running his hand up and down your arm. “That way, you can arrive with me to practice tomorrow. Then I can show off my new girlfriend to the team and make them all super jealous.”

You chuckled. “Oh, am I your girlfriend now?”

“Do…do you wanna be my girlfriend?” his voice was soft and unsure.

“Of course I do, cutie.” you pecked the top of his head, pulling up the owl-themed covers. “Now, get some sleep. You got a lot to do tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mm, okay, baby. I can’t wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow.” he innocently whispered, shutting his eyes as sleep overtook him.

“Goodnight, Kotaro,” you whispered, flicking off the lamp as the two of you fell asleep in a mutual embrace, eager for what tomorrow will bring.

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[saintslewis]

forever yours: the series | 44

— series.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black oc, lindokuhle lee vilakazi

summary: work just never ends for lee, even during her down time but hey? more money and possibly more connections.

warnings for this chapter: cussing, outfit descriptions, social media.

saint’s team radio 🪽: first chapter! hope y’all enjoy 🤍

pls like, comment and reblog!

taglist down below!

dividers from @cafekitsune

ATLANTA, GA

The smell of hair straighteners burning through each bundle filled Lee with some sort of comfort, knowing she was going to walk out of this salon with a fresh do and a check on her maintenance to-do list.

It wasn’t that exciting of a race that she’d have to go to in a few days time. Austria. Not always the most fun of grand prixs but it fills a gap for the ever growing f1 calendar. She looked straight ahead at the mirror watching the hairstylist work her magic in the prestigious looking salon Lee had seen on instagram.

The stylists here were nosy, trying to be all up in people’s businesses including that of customers. Lee had no time to take no bullshit but she knew the lady was still working on her head, something she knew she couldn’t afford to mess up. Her phone became boring after some time even seeing a few messages from her assistant and her niece’s babysitter/ au pair.

“Hold up, hold up!” A voice yelled out in the salon with excitement in the tone. “Don’t I know you from somewhere, girl?”

Lee hoped and prayed that they weren’t talking to her. They couldn’t be. She wasn’t all that known except in the f1/sports community. “Yeah, you look real familiar, girl!” And in the corner of her eye, she saw another hairstylist plop down on the seat next to her with the biggest grin on her face. “Kya! Remember that girl I showed you with that fine ass man two weeks ago?” The lady shouted over to someone else.

Oh God. Lee immediately knew what this was about. It’s all anyone recognised her for the past few weeks. During the week of the Canadian Grand Prix, someone compiled a bunch of vids that included Lee and the sport’s greatest, Lewis Hamilton lookin cozy. First, it was the camera pointed to Lee during the race and of course she had to admit, her makeup looked good that day.

Then it was when a couple of fans saw them walking together through the paddock to their respective cars, laughing and a hug that lasted a little longer than usual and that had the internet going ballistic.

Forcing a smile, Lee gathered the energy to speak when the lady was done speaking. “Yeah! That’s her! That nigga looked rich, girl. That’s your man or what because if not, a sister could use a little lovin.” The woman laughed, causing a ripple effect in the salon, hairstylists and patrons alike.

To be messy or to not be messy? It’s not like she’s ever going to see these people ever again.

“We’re not a thing. He’s just a close friend but if you want, I’ll put in a good word for ya.” Lee spoke, already feeling the heat of the hot comb a little too close to her scalp through the wig cap.

The woman stared at her then smiled. “You a real one! And your accent is cute as hell.” She got up and left Lee’s side to her other friends and Lee sighed in relief. She’s been asked that very question one too many times in the past few weeks.

Sitting for another 30 minutes, Lee finally got up, paid and left the salon feeling all brand new. Of course she spared smiles and laughs with the hairstylists but she’s never wanted to get out of there quicker. The noise and heat was just overstimulating her senses. She still tipped though, you don’t get champagne at every hair salon.

“Yes, Santana?” Lee answered the phone, settling into her car seat of her rental. She’ll admit it, she did splurge on the rental but it’s not like she had anything to lose. Although the Maybach did fuel some unnecessary rumours.

“Lee, oh my goodness! I’ve been trying to reach you. Anyways, Lewis’ publicist and I were speaking and he’d like for you to speak in his segment for Drive to Survive in Austria. He arranged a whole thing.” Santana spoke through the phone, sounding like she was in the city.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she thought over of it for a second. “You know what? Sure. I know there’s gonna be a bit of a schedule change though for me, right?” Lee asked, fastening her seatbelt and connecting her phone to the car speaker so she could pull out of the parking space.

“Yeah, you’d be missing that SkySports segment with Danica about Red Bull and VCARB. So it’s all up to you-”

“Absolutely cancel that shit. I’ll speak to Lewis more about the deets but thank you, Santana. See you at the airport, yeah?” She turned into a drive thru of some fast food restaurant, she was too hungry to even focus.

The two wrapped up the convo and within 10 minutes, Lee got her food. Deciding to not eat in the car, she sped through to her airbnb and hopped out. Setting her phone on the kitchen island, she facetimed Lewis rather so she could eat.

“You still in Spain? I know those clouds from anywhere.” She joked once the call connected and she could see his confused face pop up on the screen. “Matter of fact, I’m in London but I’ll let you have that one.” Lewis smiled, finding a spot to sit down so he could have her whole attention.

“Listen, I’m hearing that you wanted me to speak with Netflix?” Lee unpacked her food order and laid it out in front of her.

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit before realising what she was talking about. “Oh um, yeah. Wanted to get through to you professionally and all that. Need someone on my side, y’know?” He cleared his throat, making his voice slightly raspy.

“My whole career is based around supporting you, Lewis. So I don’t mind, you know I got it. They want me to say some shit about your move to Ferrari?” Lee looked at the screen as she drank her soda.

Lewis nodded, his eyes slightly squinted under his cap. “I know it’s been a recurring topic but I just wanted someone who’ll be positive all the way through the segment.” He scratched his beard.

“Okay, no problem. I’ll talk to those directors then because they tried to talk to me earlier. You know I was supposed to work with Danicka before I heard of your thing?” Lee chuckled in disbelief, biting into a spoonful her grilled chicken bowl.

“You look good.” He spoke, smiling when he saw her being taken aback at his compliment. “Thank you? I got my hair done today, this is what Austria will see on their screens. But did you hear what I said?” Lee raised her eyebrow at the man.

Lewis chuckled before answering. “I heard, love but I don’t want to talk about her or any of them. Tell me, how are you getting to Austria?”

Pausing her hand on the spoon, she looked at him. “No, Lewis, I will not be flying with you. We’ve already got enough rumours as it is. Plus, I don’t wanna step on nobody’s toes.” Lee went back to stabbing through her food.

“Should I ask you again? I rather like the back and forth with you.” Lewis giggled, seeing her eyes dart to the screen once again. “Whatever you say, I’ll just smile and nod.”

She rolled her eyes. He was unbelievable. “Whatever you say, Mr Hamilton. I’ll see you in Austria next week.” Lee smiled, eating another spoonful of her food. He sighed and now it was his turn to roll his eyes at her stubbornness.

The two continued speaking on the Netflix interviews and how the directors would twist their words for the sake of good television. The conversation didn’t last too long because Lewis had other things to tend to whilst Lee would appreciate eating her lunch peacefully without him teasing her about looking like a chipmunk while she had food in her mouth.

-

RED BULL RING, AUSTRIA

Her heels were surprisingly comfortable for their first wear. The small chair that Netflix provided was a bit cold but luckily she didn’t have to be there for too long before she returned to SkySports to film something within the paddock.

The film crew assistant’s hands were shaking as he tried to mic Lee up. Because of how much time it took to get the mic strapped, some people got the nerve to walk up to her in her most peaceful time in the paddock.

“You know, I’ve always thought you looked super intimidating with your heels on! Like you’re a villain or something.” A loud, agitating voice with a side of clacking sandals invaded her personal space even more than the man strapping up the mic on her back.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Lee gave Danicka a sharp look, one that said ‘shut up or you’ll get your ass beat’, and fixed the sleeves or her blazer. It didn’t take too long for everything to be set before beginning her solo segment on something the RedBulls were doing this weekend.

Damn, I need a shot. Or more money to motivate me

So focused on her inner thoughts while watching the playback video of her segment, she got knocked out of it by a tap on her shoulder. Once she felt the tap and it awoke her senses, she also heard the cheers and murmurs surrounding her. It could only be one person.

“Good morning, Lewis.” Lee said to her dear friend, who loved to do this surprising thing lately, as she stood up straight. The man was always in awe when he locked eyes with her. “Mornin’ Lee. I’ll see you later for our thing, yeah?” He smiled, his eyes probably crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“We have a thing?” Her eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunching up a tiny bit before letting go. A little trait of hers that Lewis loves so much. “You need to check your emails more, sweetheart.” He winked, she just knew he did, behind the designer sunnies before walking away, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

What she could not explain was why her stomach did the thing when he winked. When she smelled his delicious cologne and surprisingly loving his Adam Sandler-esque tracksuit.

“Uh Lee? Are you okay?” The cameraman, Josh, stood up straight and asked his friend in concern. Snapping out of it, she looked at Josh. “Huh? Oh, yeah I’m good. Just fine.” She reassured him, looking back at the direction Lewis went, knowing very well that he left a while ago.

Josh then had a smirk on his face. “Right. What’d your boyfriend say?” He teased, feeling a smack on his arm a second later. “Don’t start with me, Josh. Don’t even think about it, yoh.” She warned, stepping back to the front of the camera to finish up her work.

saint’s notes 🧝🏽‍♀️: wellllll this is a small small introduction to the mini series and how their lil friendship goes! Lewis is a yearnerrrr in this one but that’s alright 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed!

🫧 tagslist: @mauvecherie-writes @chaneajoyyy @alika-4466 @queenshikongo3 @serpenttines @emjayewrites @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @vsfavs @motheroffae @h4vertzz @arshiyuh @henneseyhoe @cocobutterqwueen @gwenda-fav @httpsserene @peyiswriting @saturnville @purplelewlew @greedyjudge2 @sunfairyy @marvel-hotchner @boujiestpoet @f1-football-fiend @shhhchriss @jewel-diva44 @pickingupmymercedes @tian-monique

🫧 dividers: @cafekitsune

[algae-tm]

KILL BILL P.10

Charles Leclerc x ex! Reader, Oscar Piastri x Reader

Previous part next part

Author’s note : So I don’t write narrative or rather I don’t write fanfic narrative, but there’s so much I want to say in this fic that feels clunky putting in like a text message. So here y’all go. I’m not 100% satisfied with the Oscar bit but also I started writing at 2 and it’s now 3:30 am so I’m gunna go to bed and then probably write some more in the coming days, do not worry we will get more in depth Oscar lore! - Algae 🌱

••••

Despite almost being 20 years old, Charles had been just a boy when you met him. A boy with a chip on his shoulder and the world at his feet—a dangerous combination that should’ve sent you running but had the opposite effect. When you first saw him, you could practically see the gears turning in his head. He paid you no attention, probably didn’t even realise you were loitering on the outskirts of his garage, watching the mechanics run around in a dazed frenzy, but you were enthralled by him.

He stood steadfastly in front of his car, with a pinched look adorning his face, forehead creased, and eyebrows drawn together. Anyone else would’ve written him off as confused, overwhelmed, not fit to have signed a contract saying he’d be battling in F1 alongside the greats—they still wrote him off as an emotionally unstable boy. But even before you had ever spoken to him, you understood what hardly anyone else did. You understood that, while Charles Leclerc was still a boy, he was more calculating than confused. And in the years of knowing him that followed, as you’d watched him progress to f1, as you’d watched him win races, that statement would prove to be true time and time again.

As the memories of your early encounters with Charles flooded your mind, you couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. He had been so young, so full of ambition and determination. You had admired him from afar, drawn to his intensity and drive to succeed. Despite the chaos of the racing world swirling around him, he had always seemed to have a clear vision of where he was going.

But somewhere along the way, things had changed. The pressures of fame and success had taken their toll, turning him into a shell of the boy you’d met. The boy with the fire in his eyes had become a man weighed down by expectations and responsibilities. And in the process, he had pushed you away, convinced that you didn't understand the sacrifices he had to make. Convinced that he held you captive in a life you weren’t ready to lead.

Charles may have told you some bullshit excuse about children and the future but you had always been able to see through him and despite this separation nothing had changed. From the arguments in the months leading to the breakup you knew he was putting an unnecessary amount of pressure on himself, putting all his hopes and aspirations on Ferrari, despite how often that had proven to be a mistake. Yes, the stupid misunderstanding of your future together was a large part of the reason you broke up, but you had a incessant feeling that Charles had felt trapped in his life, in his racing, and had attributed that trapped feeling to you.

You did not want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. You didn’t want to forgive him. You were going to forgive him. Those were the thoughts that plagued your mind on the 8 hour flight from JFK to Nice, and as you drove down to Monaco you couldn’t help but think about your parents. You had grown up with parents who had no business staying together, yet just couldn’t leave each others orbits. And no matter how much you cursed this dynamic as a child, you were worried that it was something you were bound to repeat. As you pulled in to the hotel you had decided to meet Charles at - nice neutral territory, you realised even if you didn’t get back together, you were going to forgive him. And it would be the easiest thing you had ever done. You checked in. Getting the key from the concierge as they told you someone had already checked in earlier.

You spotted him immediately. He was sitting at a small table near the window, a glass of something amber in front of him. He looked up as you approached, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. There he was, the man you had loved for so long, the man who had been your everything. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. You sat down opposite him, your heart in your throat.

"Charlie," you said, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"Hi," he replied, his eyes searching yours. "You look good."

"Thanks. You too."

There was an awkward silence, both of you unsure of how to begin. Finally, Charles took a deep breath. "I'm glad you came," he said. "I wasn't sure if you would."

"I needed to see you," you admitted. "I needed to know if... if there's still something here."

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "I've missed you," he said quietly. "It's been strange, not having you around."

"I've missed you too," you replied, your voice cracking slightly. "But I don't know if missing each other is enough."

Charles looked down at his glass, his fingers tracing the rim. "I know," he said softly. "I've been thinking a lot about us, about what went wrong. And I realise now that I wasn't fair to you. I was so focused on my career, that I had built a different reality in my head, and that I didn't see what it was doing to us. I'm sorry."

His words hit you hard, the sincerity in his voice bringing tears to your eyes. "I'm sorry too," you said. He opened his mouth to speak, probably to say you had nothing to be sorry for, but you continued, eyes downcast "I wasn't always patient, I didn’t like that I couldn’t get a read on you. I just - I wanted us to be happy.”

"I wanted that too," he said, finally looking up at you. "And maybe we can be, but we need to be honest with each other. We need to figure out what we really want."

You nodded, wiping away a tear. "I don't know if I can go back to how things were," you said. "It hurt too much."

Charles reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I don't want to go back," he said. "I want to move forward. I want us to be better."

His touch was familiar, comforting, but it also reminded you of the pain you had endured. You pulled your hand away gently, needing to keep some distance. "I'm seeing someone else," you said, the words hanging heavy in the air.

Charles looked taken aback, his eyes widening slightly. "Oscar," he said, more a statement than a question, “so you’re actually seeing him?”

You nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "It’s still new, fuck it’s really new, and it wasn't planned," you said quickly. "It just... happened. After we broke up, he was there for me. He wanted me, and it started off as this petty way to make you jealous but I feel something more for him."

Charles was silent for a moment, processing this new information. "Do you love him?" he asked finally, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"No," you admitted. You could practically feel a weight lift of Charles’ shoulders "I do care about him. A lot."

He nodded slowly, his expression pained. "I understand," he said. "I can't expect you to wait for me, to put your life on hold. But I still love you, and I think we could have a future together, if we both want it."

He held out his hand to you, and maybe you were going to regret it in the future but you took it.

INSTA

carlossainz55 posted on his story

(Image 1 caption : summer with friends. Image 2 caption : reunited )

seen by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 2,344,234 others

User31 : brother what?

Used42 : oh my god please tell me they’re back together!!!

charles_leclerc : y/n isn’t going to like this. delete it now for your health

lewishamilton : so that’s where she is… tell her to message me

y/bff/n : oh brother this guy STINKS.

user32 : bop

yourusername : delete this now

carlossainz55 has deleted his story

••••

You hadn’t been ignoring Oscar, okay maybe you had just slightly. But spending the short break with Charles was, okay you don’t know what it was. You were confused. Really fucking confused. Being around Charles had encompassed you, like it always did. The week and a bit you had spent with him was a whirlwind of emotions. You spent time with Charles, talking about everything and nothing, rediscovering the things that had brought you together in the first place. You laughed together, reminisced about the good times, and shared your hopes and fears. It was comforting, but it also made you realise how much you had both changed.

But Oscar Piastri was something new. Not just new something novel, he brought fresh perspectives, and the way he made you feel was so different from how you felt with Charles, and something in you said you had to give him a chance. So you guess you had been ignoring him, but only due to the fear that he’d want answers you wouldn’t be able to give. The weeks after your ‘not date’ had been filled with constant phone calls, and texts, and despite the constant feeling to remind him that you weren’t dating you both knew that wasn’t true, you both knew there was something there. So you couldn’t blame Oscar for his eagerness, in fact you relished in it, you knew Oscar was playing it up to make you laugh, make you open up more and it was working. He deserved much better than you.

••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

[lumi-nescentt]

And When I Break It's In A Million Pieces

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Warnings: kinda angsty, reader overworking herself, arguing and someone fainting

Words: 3.8k

Summary: Oscar can understand how important exams are to his girlfriend but he can't stand to see her overworking herself and this close to breaking down without trying to comfort her.

A/N: it was supposed to be a cute oscar one shot but I guess midterms kicked my ass so I had to make Oscar do what I would have loved someone to do for me.

Now that I'm done writing this I'll start on the requests :)

Oscar had been away on the last triple header of the season and as much as he loved racing and how good the car felt lately, he missed his girlfriend and couldn't wait to see her again.

She usually came with him as often as she could, but she had been drowning in homework lately so she had chosen to stay home and work a little extra to make sure she stayed up to date. Oscar didn’t mind, or at least he tried not to show it because he knew how bad she already felt for missing some of his best results in F1. 

The Australian knew how hard the girl was on herself and how she tended to forget to take care of herself when she got engrossed in her studies so he thought coming back as early as possible from the British Grand Prix was the best thing he could do. 

Flying from London to Melbourne felt like one of the longest trips Oscar ever had to endure and it was only worse because he was all alone. Usually he either had Lando, Logan or his girlfriend to entertain him during layovers and on the flight itself, but now as he sat on the first plane taking him from London to Qatar, Oscar felt bored to death.

He had chosen the earliest flight possible on Monday and that had been one that took off at 3pm so he wasn’t even tired enough to sleep. He had already watched a movie while waiting in front of the gate so he was honestly starting to run out of ideas on how to entertain himself. 

He considered paying for wifi access to try and chat with his girlfriend for a second but then realised that he had decided to plan his comeback in secret so she had no idea he was coming back. In the end, Oscar still paid for it just so he could play 8 ball with Logan and joke around with Lando. 

His two friends entertained him for a few hours, but when he landed in Qatar, they both had stuff to do so he was left all alone again. He had nothing to do during the layover in Dubai, so walking around the entire terminal at the slowest pace possible seemed like a good enough idea for the 2 hours he had to wait before boarding again. 

To say the 13 hours flight to Melbourne had been long was an understatement. It had only been made worse since he couldn’t sleep, so Oscar had watched the entirety of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and still had found time to be bored once he was done. By the time he finally arrived in front of the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, it was almost 1am and he hadn’t slept in 30 hours now. 

All he wanted to do was crash on his bed and cuddle against her but when he opened the door as quietly as he could, the first thing he saw was his girlfriend sitting on a barstool, hunched over her laptop on the counter. She had her headphones on and the volume was so loud Oscar could hear the song playing very clearly from where he was standing in the doorway.

After taking off his shoes and dropping his suitcase in a corner, he slowly made his way over, trying his best not to startle the girl. She was so engrossed in whatever she was reading that even with Oscar standing right next to her, her focus was still on her computer. She only flinched and snapped back to reality when Oscar delicately removed her headphones and put them next to her now empty coffee cup.

-“ Oscar ? What– How ? You were supposed to stay in Europe until the break.” she stuttered, too tired to understand how her boyfriend was standing in front of her

-“ Surprise !” Oscar smiled softly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. “ I missed you too much to wait an entire month so I decided to come spend the week here.” 

-“ I don't know what to say, wow.” 

-“ Oh God, was it a bad idea ? I don’t want to intrude if you had plans, baby. I can ask my parents if I can stay at theirs instead if you want me out of your hair while you study.” 

-“ No no, it’s a good surprise, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. It’s our flat so of course I want you to stay with me.” she quickly clarified, burying her head in the crook of his neck and tightening her arms around him

-“ Ok good, I got scared I was bothering you for a second.” he answered, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head

-“ Don’t say that Osc, you could never bother me. I’m always happy to see your pretty face in real life.” 

-“ So you think I’m pretty ?” the Australian asked with a proud grin

-“ Of course I do, pretty boy. Now as much as I’d love to keep this lovely flirting going, you must be exhausted so why don’t you get ready for bed and I’ll join you in a bit ?” 

-“ That sounds great, I’ll go shower and then we can cuddle because I can definitely feel the drop of temperature between here and the UK.” 

-“ It’s not even that cold but I won’t say no to that.” she smiled before turning back to her homework.

Oscar didn’t really know how long he stayed under the warm spray of the shower but judging by the amount of steam that was now filling the bathroom, he assumed he stayed for a little while. Since he took his time, he fully expected to find his girlfriend dozing off under the covers but when he reached the bedroom, the bed was still untouched. 

Gathering the remaining energy he had, Oscar dragged himself to the kitchen where she was still in the position he left her in. Her headphones were back on at a lower volume and she was now frowning and holding her head between her hands, seemingly trying to make sense of what she was reading. 

-“ Are you coming to bed soon ?” Oscar asked seeing the time on her laptop 

-“ Yeah, of course. Just give me a minute, I’ll meet you there.” she answered without looking at him

-“ Baby, it’s almost 3am. You need to sleep as much as I do.” 

-“ I know, I’m coming. Don’t wait up, you must be knackered.” she tried, squeezing the hand he had put on her shoulder to reassure him

-“ I want to sleep next to you. I’ll wait for you to finish what you’re doing. How long is this going to take you ?” 

-“ I don’t know, you shouldn’t stay awake for me. I promise I’ll cuddle you as soon as I’m in bed, you won’t even realise I’m not here at first.” 

-“ That’s not true, I always notice so will you come ? Please ?” 

-“ You’re lucky you’re cute and that I love you because I really need to finish this paper.” she finally caved in with a sigh, closing her laptop to face her boyfriend who was sleepily smiling at her

-“ I love you too, now come. I can tell you’re exhausted too.” 

Oscar linked their hands together and walked towards their bedroom, handing her one of his shirts as he stripped down to his boxer before hurriedly getting under the covers. At the sight of her cold boyfriend all cosy under the blankets, the girl couldn’t help but chuckle before she joined him and let him wrap his arms around her, resting her head against his chest and falling asleep to the comforting sound of his steady heartbeat. 

When Oscar woke up at 7am a few hours later, he brought his arm closer to the rest of his body, hoping to steal some of his girlfriend’s body warmth but his arm closed on nothing. With his eyes still closed, he patted her side of the bed, simply thinking she had rolled away from him but all he touched were the empty bed sheets. He would have assumed she had just gone to the bathroom if it wasn’t from how cold her side was. 

As hard as he wanted to tell her to come back to bed, Oscar wasn’t fully awake and he didn’t really think there was something he could do so he let himself fall back asleep for a few hours. When he opened his eyes again, finally feeling rested enough to figure out where she had gone, he was still alone in their empty bed. 

He made his way to the living room, secretly hoping she’d be all curled up on the sofa and had only moved there because he was snoring too loud but it was just as empty as their bed. Not liking where he thought this was going, Oscar went to the kitchen where his girlfriend was exactly in the same position he had found her hours earlier. 

Without saying a word, Oscar wrapped his arms around her from behind and nuzzled his face in her neck like he knew she liked. When the only acknowledgement he got was a low hum without even a smile or a look towards him, he decided to try something else. He slowly turned his head and started kissing her neck tenderly, which always got her attention usually because she was never one to pass on getting some physical affection from him. He was so sure it was going to work that when she finally breathed in before talking, Oscar couldn’t stop the smile creeping on his face.

-“ Not now baby, please.” she brushed him off softly, without even looking at him

-“ Oh, okay. Sorry.” Oscar muttered, feeling his face flush from a wave of embarrassment he couldn’t stop

He quickly escaped to the opposite corner of the kitchen, getting busy with making breakfast to forget about the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins. It took him 15 minutes of meddling around before everything was ready and before he was ready to try to get her attention again.

This time, Oscar planted himself next to his girlfriend and put a coffee cup and a full plate with eggs and toast right next to her laptop before poking her shoulder with his finger to get her full attention.

-“ Hello there, I made you breakfast.” he half smiled

-“ Hi baby, that’s really sweet of you. Thank you.” she returned the smile, cupping his face with her hands before planting a soft kiss on his lips and turning back towards her homework

-“ I was wondering if you wanted to have breakfast together in the living room, maybe ?”

-“ I’m sorry Osc. I really need to study but don’t let me stop you, I know you love to eat there.” 

-“ Yeah, sure.” he started out loud before mumbling to himself as he exited the room “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

After his very lonely breakfast in front of a TV show he didn’t even want to watch, Oscar popped his head into the kitchen to see if she was done working. When he saw that she was still very focused on what she was doing, he decided to do something to occupy himself until she was finally free. He got dressed and yelled that he was going for a run before finally going outside. 

When he came back a little less than an hour later, Oscar was determined to spend some time with her so he hurriedly went to the bathroom to shower before eventually stealing her away from her homework. 

Once he was finally done, it was time for lunch and he was feeling like ordering so, while still looking at his phone, he went towards the kitchen and called her.

-“ I’m gonna order food, what do you feel like eating ?”

He waited a little bit for an answer but nothing came back so he walked a little closer and tried again.

-“ Baby ? Are you not hungry ?” 

Getting worried from the clear silence he was met with, Oscar walked in the kitchen but, to his surprise, he couldn’t see her.

-“ y/n ? If this is a joke, it’s not that funny. Where are you ?” he asked, feeling his heart beat a little faster

He knew she hadn’t gone out because both her keys and her car were still there so he went around the counter to go look into the laundry room when his eyes fell on something on the floor. Seeing his girlfriend laying down on the floor made his blood rush fast in his veins and he immediately kneeled down next to her and wrapped her hand in his.

-“ y/n, baby can you hear me ?” he tried again “ I’m going to put your feet on my lap, okay ? I’m not letting go of your hand, if you hear me just squeeze it.” Oscar explained, praying that he’d feel her grip tighten around his fingers

He felt the faintest squeeze but he wasn’t sure if he had imagined it or not so he tried again.

-“ Can you squeeze my hand again, please ?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper from how scared he was until he felt a clear squeeze “ Atta girl, you’re doing great.” 

Oscar felt his breathing slowly go back to normal as his girlfriend slowly gained back consciousness. He was still a bit shaken up but seeing her eyes fluttering open and feeling the constant squeezes of her hand on his was reassuring him. He waited a little more before asking her questions, not wanting to overwhelm her.

-“ Do you remember what happened ?” 

-“ I don’t know, I was just standing up to get another coffee and then I started feeling dizzy so I tried to call you but I don’t know if anything came out.” 

-“ Ok well at least you remember, you scared me to death there sweetheart.” 

-“ I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” she apologised, mortified that he had seen her like this

-“ Hey, none of that. Don’t apologise, I’m glad I came back in time to find you. I would’ve hated for you to be all alone here when you fainted.” he reassured her, bringing her closer to him

-“ What do you mean came back ? When did you go out ?” 

-“ I told you I was going for a run but I guess you were so focused on what you were doing you didn’t hear me. Next time I’ll make sure that you hear me.” 

-“ It’s fine, you don’t have to.” 

-“ I know but I want to. Now let’s get you something to eat, you didn’t even eat breakfast so you must be starving.” he stated, pointing at the plate he had made her a few hours earlier, still untouched on the counter

-“ I’m not really hungry actually.” she whispered, looking at her feet

- “ You have to eat something baby. I’ll just order something from your favourite restaurant and you can just eat however much you can, does that sound good ?”

-“ Yeah sure, thank you Osc.”

Oscar didn’t answer and instead just placed a kiss on the side of her head before standing up and picking his phone that he had left on the counter to get the food. While they waited for it to arrive, Oscar sent her to shower so she could relax a little before eating. Before leaving her be, he convinced her to let the door slightly open so she could yell if she felt dizzy again so he could also relax.

He always stayed within earshots of the bathroom as he got busy around the flat until the delivery guy arrived. Oscar wanted it to be quick but the guy recognised him and wanted to take a picture with him. Oscar wouldn’t have minded the picture if the guy also didn’t seem to want to become his friend and didn’t talk for what felt like ages. Oscar didn’t know how to make him stop without sounding rude so he just waited until he was finally done before hurrying back to his girlfriend. 

He expected her to either still be in the shower or to be waiting for him in the living room, resting like they had talked about after she fainted but she was the most stubborn person Oscar knew. That’s why he wasn’t exactly surprised when he found her back to her studying spot with her headphones only wearing one of his mclaren hoodies. 

-“ I thought we said no more studying for today ?” Oscar scolded her gently

-“ I know but I can’t just stop like that. I need to finish this part and then I can rest for a few hours.”

-“ Baby you fainted, that means your body is exhausted and you shouldn’t put yourself through this.” 

-“ I don’t have a choice, Oscar. The exam is coming up and I need to finish this paper too. I can’t just decide to take the day off because my stupid body decided to betray me.” she spat in one breath, feeling her heartbeat quicken just thinking of the ton of stuff she still had to do 

-“ Alright, just breathe please. You can definitely afford to rest for today. I know you and I know you’re capable of doing what you have left before the due date. Just come lie down with me for a bit while we eat.” 

-“ You don’t know that for sure. I can’t afford to take such a risk.” 

-“ Baby, please.” he pleaded, feeling how she was getting more worked up by the second

-“ I said no, Oscar !” she said through gritted teeth, trying not to raise her voice 

-“ Why can’t you just slow down for a second ? What’s the worst that can happen if you let go a little.”

-“ Slow down ? That’s rich coming from you mister always running around the entire globe to drive at 300kph.” she cringed at how high pitched her voice was getting

-“ You know that’s not what I meant, y/n.” 

-“ Then what did you mean because I clearly don’t get why you’re getting in my way here.” 

-“ I only meant that you’re going to tire yourself out over some homework and that it can’t be healthy.”

-“  I’m sorry ? Some homework ?!” she scoffed loudly “ This is the last class I need to have my diploma, if I fail it, I can say goodbye to my dream job. Don’t belittle what I do because you don’t understand it.” 

-“ That’s not how I meant it, y/n. I’m just worried about you.”

-“ I didn’t ask you to be, in fact I didn’t even ask you to be here. You were supposed to be away doing your stupid job while I was here studying on my own but no you just had to come back and tempt me with ideas of relaxing and hanging out with you when you know I can’t. I can’t just decide to go away and take a break because I miss my partner. Some of us have real jobs and they can’t run away whenever they want to, Oscar.”  she finally lost it, her eyes filling with tears as she realised what she had said

-“ Wow, hum alright. I think I’m just going to go outside for a bit.” Oscar muttered, grabbing his car keys and turning around as quickly as he could

As soon as she heard the door close, y/n broke down crying in the middle of the room. She hadn’t meant to snap at him, she knew he just cared about her and most of all, she didn’t think anything she said was true.

She knew how hard Oscar had worked to get to where he was now and she was so proud of how far he had come. She loved that he was able to do something he loved as his job and how he always made time in his busy schedule to either fly her to where he was staying or fly back home to see her. 

In all honesty, she had been missing him so much lately and all she wanted to was take a break and seek comfort in his arms but she couldn’t help the anxiety and the guilt that kicked in whenever she stopped studying even for a second. She had been staying up late and waking up at the crack of dawn for a week now, studying as much as she could before she had to attend classes. She barely had time to eat and she couldn’t remember the last time she had a decent meal. 

The mere thought of having hurt Oscar was filling her with guilt and she wished there was something she could do to take it back. She was so tired of feeling like this and right now it felt like she had pushed away the only person she wanted to comfort her. 

When Oscar opened the door half an hour later, he didn’t expect his girlfriend to come running to the door and then stop in her tracks the moment her eyes met his. She tried to open her mouth but tears started falling again and she was struggling to take a full breath. The sight tore Oscar’s hurt and he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her head against his chest. 

-“ It’s okay, baby. Just let go, I’m here.” he whispered, tracing circles on her back

-“ I’m sorry, Oscar. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean what I said. I–”

-“ I know, it’s okay. It’s already forgotten.”  

-“ It’s not okay. You didn’t deserve to hear that.” she sniffled, looking at him in the eyes “ I love what you do and I’m really happy you’re here. I’m sorry if I made you feel like it wasn’t the case. It’s no excuse but I’m frankly exhausted and you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

-“ Thank you for apologising. It’s forgiven and I promise you I’m not mad or anything.”

-“ You’re sure ?” 

-“ Yes, I wasn’t mad earlier. I was a bit hurt and I knew you needed time to calm down before we could have a discussion so I just went to the store to buy brownies and ice cream.” 

-“ That’s so sweet, Oscar, stop.” she said, feeling her voice shake slightly

-“ I was thinking we could take a proper break and eat in front of a movie. Then if you still want to work, I could help you study and after that we could take a bath ? How does that sound ?” 

-“ I love you so much.”

-“ Is that a yes ?” Oscar teased, smiling as he heard her laugh

-“ Yes it is.” she said, as he grabbed her hand and guided her towards the living room where the food was still waiting for them

-“ y/n ?” 

-“ yes ?” 

-“ I love you too.” 

-“ I know, now come here.” she smiled again, wrapping her arms behind his neck before pulling him down to kiss him properly 

Oscar hadn’t been sure of it at first but coming back home was the best choice he ever made for the both of them. They missed each other too much to wait a whole month to be together when they needed the other’s presence that badly.

[songmingisthighs]

Whatcha Gonna Do About It ?

group : ateez

pairing : brat!wooyoung × milf!reader

genre : smut

wc : 3.3 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut, age difference (legal ofc), unprotected sex (std ew), wooyoung being annoying, reader in her mid-to-late 30s, wooyoung calling reader mommy, masturbation (m), wooyoung in some sort of a sub space ? but like... brat, slapping like.. twice?, creampie

a/n : requested by anon and part of my milf deal with @luvt0kki !! >:D

buy me coffee ?

Warm sun, cold drink, the soft murmur of people by the pool of the country club, sometimes you appreciate your husband for moments like this.

Well, ex-husband.

While you made peace with the fact that your marriage ended years before, the divorce still brought a bitter taste in your mouth. Years spent with that asshole and he had the gall to come to you with the bimbo who couldn't even spell the word 'homewrecker' without writing it with a crayon, asking for you to help him raise the baby as the girl was willing to get paid to let go of maternal responsibilities and instead get paid to go to beauty school. Served you right for letting your parents set you with him when you were still so young just for the money. Safe to say you got the penthouse, the luxury and the community while he got the bill and the 19-year-old high school dropout with a baby on the way. Not even your son who idolized his father wants to have anything to do with his father and while your ex said it was just him being a 12-year-old, you knew better. So while your ex had to redo his whole life and regain his credibility, you were left simmering in unresolved anger and frustration. Though by the poolside, in your ridiculously expensive bikini that you bought just to piss your ex off, you found the experience rather pleasant.

"Well, well, well, look who we have here,"

Speaking of children.

Barely giving him a glance, you took a sip of your mojito and adjusted your sunglasses, "Hello, Wooyoung," you greeted half-heartedly.

Jung Wooyoung is someone you want to avoid when you're at the club. He's a notorious tease and a player and everyone knows it but has no means to stop him due to his influential family. He treats girls his age like a plaything so when he started to get close to you a couple months ago when your divorce was finalized, you didn't bat an eye. Maybe he was just bored, maybe he wanted to rile you up, or maybe he wanted to see how many demographics his good looks can affect because while he's relentless and annoying, he's VERY easy on the eyes and smooth with his words. No wonder there was a long line of broken hearts that seemed to always trail behind him.

"Surprised to see you here today," he sat himself down on your pool chaise, right next to your hip, "I heard you went to the Komodo Island for healing. And to think you'd just stick with your husband if you wanted to be close to something dangerous and cold-blooded," he smirked. While his jab at your ex amused you, you tried your best to not show any reaction by taking another sip of your drink before shrugging, "I went there to see the construction of the villa I invested in. Why? Thought you could get me to give you free access?" "Well," he pursed his lips and turned his body towards you, allowing you to trail your (thankfully sunglass-covered) eyes on the smooth expanse of his chest and watch droplets of water race down his skin, "I'd love a free access, but not to your villa. If you get what I mean," he coyly stated.

You could feel your cheeks warm up but having had enough you stood up straight and got your face close to him (much to his delight). "Okay, little boy, you think you can play with the sad divorcee? Is that it? You think someone like you can do more damage to someone like me?" You jabbed a finger at his tanned chest that now that you were so close to him, you could see how delicious it looked, "You're nothing, boy. You're just a tease with a big mouth," you hissed.

Much to your surprise, he was looking at you with such intrigue and when you looked into his eyes, you noticed the slight teasing glint in them that made you swallow a lump in your throat.

"You think I'm all talk?" He chuckled condescendingly as his hand suddenly found your shin. The touch was electrifying and it sent a sharp tingle up your spine which you found delightful as much as you had to admit. Your heart started beating harshly against your ribcage when said hand trailed upwards slowly, brushing against your inner thigh before it jumped to the hand on his chest, gently wrapping his larger palm around your hand. How can veins be hot? What are you, a mosquito?

"You think I just have a big mouth?" he teased again with voice at a lower register that drew you into a hazed state until he brought your palm to his lips, kissing the skin around your pulse point to the pads of your fingers, "Don't you know that it's good to have a big mouth?" Your eyes widened and your mouth involuntarily let out a gasp when he shoved your index and middle finger into his mouth. His mouth was warm and you could feel his tongue circling your digits which sent your core clenching and leaking arousal, suddenly imagining the muscle somewhere... Lower.

"You've been treated so bad, so I want to treat you right. But you seem to think that all I want to do is use you once and that hurt me..." He leaned close abruptly, sending you reeling to an almost lying position had it not for one of your elbows supporting your weight, "Mommy."

The name triggered something in you and as if on instinct, the hand that was in his grasp slipped away and grabbed at his throat, pressing on his jugular as you pushed him slightly away. "Did you just fucking call me 'mommy'?" you growled, glaring at him.

Wooyoung had always considered you hot and sexy but seeing you like this at a proximity this close, made his cock twitch and hands itching to pull the flimsy ties by your hips. "Yeah, whatcha gonna do about it?"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything was a blur, you didn't know what exactly happened but you somehow managed to pull Wooyoung into a private cabana without getting seen (or at least you hoped no one saw) after what he had just done and in a blink of an eye, you found yourself i your current position.

"Aww, I thought you said you weren't just all talk," you pouted at Wooyoung mockingly.

Scowling, Wooyoung moved his hand faster on his cock, trying to get himself off in front of you while you stood on your knees on the daybed in front of him, an unamused look on your face. "I am," he hissed from annoyance and stimulation mixed with frustration because though he was getting some relief, it was not from you and you were just standing there as if mocking him with your presence. Seeing him in such a state, clear annoyance with an obvious blush that betrayed his demeanour somehow made you feel powerful, confident, beyond sexy. Even with your husband, whenever either of you initiated sex, the feeling was never this... thrilling. "So? You just can't cum? You're all talk and so pathetic, Wooyoung. How are you supposed to fuck me like you said you would, like you said I deserved when you can't even do it to yourself?" you scoffed, rolling your eyes which made Wooyoung let out a sharp exhale.

You had to admit, you liked the sight of Wooyoung stark naked with his knees slightly bent and legs spread wide. Seeing from the way your eyes fell from his own gaze to his twitching cock, and the way you bite your bottom lip, Wooyoung was aware that you liked what you saw and it made his back arch as if to make a big showcase of his pleasure. Your pussy was practically drenched seeing the hot twenty-four-year-old trying so hard to please himself to please you what with beads of sweat and remnants of pool water that slowly seeped into the cushions underneath him. He was glowing. You couldn't believe that a guy like him wanted you to the point of throwing himself at you like an idiot.

"Mommy, come on," he moaned, dropping his chest back, "I'm touching myself to you so the least you can do is pop those pretty titties out to help me cum because now that I have you in front of me, I need it, I need it bad," he whined, trying to inch his body closer to yours only for you to drop your hands on his knees, securing his position. Wooyoung halted his movements when he saw your tits dangling in front of him, the flimsy fabric couldn't hide your hardened nipples and the sight of them bouncing and jiggling at the slightest movements made his eyes widen and mouth drool.

Despite his Neanderthal-like vocabulary and crass expression, you felt flattered and as weird as it is, you found a unique charm in that. "You think you deserve to see my tits, boy?" you smirked, crawling closer to him until you sat yourself on the tops of his knees with legs caging his comfortably. Wooyoung's eyes automatically dropped lower to the space between your legs, taking note of the dark patch that had formed and smirked, happy that you were turned on seeing him put on a show for you. Slowly, he started stroking himself again, this time putting more pressure in his grip, "Of course, I do, mommy. If you let me suck one of them, I'll even pound your pussy to next Thursday," he smugly said.

Scoffing, you pulled one side of your bikini top, revealing your left tit to him and his jaw comically dropped. You could see from his eyes the way his pupils followed the movement hungrily as if being hypnotized and you couldn't help but laugh at him mockingly, "Oh my God, are you that affected by the sight of breasts? What are you, a virgin?" You taunted. Wooyoung's eyebrows furrowed and his lips pouted as his eyes darted to glare straight at yours, "How can I be a virgin? You've seen girls I slept with," he huffed with cheeks tinted slightly red. "Well you sure are acting like you've never seen a woman's naked body before which is so sad," you faked a pout before moving to reveal your other tit to him. You saw his chest shake as a rumble passed his throat and his adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed his saliva. "Fuck, you're so hot," he whined, trying to reach for your body only to have you slap his hands away with a hiss, "Did I tell you that you could touch me without permission?"

Dissatisfied, Wooyoung whined loudly and was about to protest when he felt something tweaking his cock. "What?" you smirked, letting your finger tweak his tip again which caused him to choke on his breath a little. "Pathetic," you spat after clicking your tongue, expressing disappointment as you grabbed him from the base and squeezed.

He didn't know why, he didn't know how, but the combination of your treatment on him got him cumming on your hand. Your eyes twinkled with intrigue as you watched spurts of white liquid spray from his tip, hitting your exposed tits as his back arched with a slight tremble and his head thrown back. For once, you appreciated the sound he made; a whimpered moan that sounded slightly muffled as if he was holding himself back by keeping his lips tightly sealed. "Now, now, don't hold back on me," you teased, pinching the tip harshly. His thighs tensed from the sudden stimulation as his jaw slackened letting the voice he had held back finally out. You were not sure what but maybe it was the reality that you were being physically intimate with a man a lot younger than you or the possibility of getting caught by passerby separated by the tent because Wooyoung was being loud or a mixture of both, but you felt a pleasant chill ran down your spine straight to your aching cunt.

In his haze, Wooyoung barely noticed you crawling up and situated yourself on his lap, your heated but unfortunately still covered core pressed on his flaccid cock. Wooyoung's eyes rolled into his head when he felt you starting to roll your hips on him. The anticipation had eaten away through him and the barest minimum of contact made him almost nut right at that moment. But with sheer will, he pushed through and decided to enjoy himself first.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this," Wooyoung grunted as he felt his dick coming back to life almost instantaneously, "Fuck, I want to make my mommy feel good," he moaned shakily when he felt the wet patch on your bikini bottom rub against him, giving him friction from the friction and warmth. You couldn't deny the fact that hearing someone as young as Wooyoung lusting after you made you so aroused that you were practically clenching at nothing which was stupid because his cock was there and it wouldn't take much for him to get fully hard again. Even if he wasn't fully hard, you were sure that you could get him inside you without any issue. Why were you torturing yourself instead of torturing the guy under you?

At that point, you had had enough of messing around, you wanted him in you and you wanted him right then and there. Wooyoung's eyes followed your every movement like a predator watching its prey which was ironic since you hold the reigns. When you pulled on one of the strings of your bikini bottom, Wooyoung couldn't help but think of it like a present being opened because the moment your bare pussy came to view, he accidentally let a word slip past him. "Want," he whimpered with eyes still glued on your pussy like an idiot. You had to bite your bottom lip to prevent yourself from saying something snarky because frankly, you were enjoying the attention. "Yeah? You want mommy's pussy, baby?" you teased, returning to rubbing yourself on Wooyoung.

With each movement, the fabric of your bikini bottom ruffled which allowed your bare cunt to make direct contact with Wooyoung's bare cock. The feeling and built-up expectation seemed to be too much for Wooyoung as his back arched and eyes rolled back into his head. You had to admit that you had never seen a prettier sight than the one that was oh so freely given to you by Wooyoung. Taking advantage of Wooyoung's state, you grabbed his hardening dick and positioned it at your entrance and began descending until your hip met his.

"Oh- fuck!" Wooyoung grunted, his body jolting which was followed by his abdominal muscles tensing as if he had just been punched in the gut, winded simply by your pussy. Seeing this, you could only smirk not just because you didn't want to ruin the moment but also because you thought that nothing could beat the cocky look on your face.

Wooyoung's pleasure doubled the moment you started moving against him. Your more experienced hips moved in a way that allowed his cock to slip in and out without slipping out but also kept your lower halves connected. "Shit- fuck, mommy!" he gasped loudly which prompted you to slap him and grab ahold of his cheeks in one hand. "Keep your voice down, Wooyoung, no one can find out what we're doing here," you hissed, leaning down close to warn him. You hadn't meant to be so harsh but that action seemed to rile Wooyoung up even more because once you let go of his face, a depraved smile appeared on his face and he let out a content sigh, "Fuck mommy, if only you'd let me let people know how good you're using me right now," you felt the soles of his feet planted flat on the surface of the daybed and he began meeting your thrusts which almost caused you to fall on top of him, "God, Jesus, you feel so good mommy, your cunt is so perfect, I want to never stop fucking it, holy shit," goosebumps shot up your spine when Wooyoung grazed his hands on the sides of your legs and they kept moving upwards until they settled on his chest. Your eyes widened and you instinctively licked your bottom lip when Wooyoung began tweaking his nipples.

Somehow the pace you both set never faltered but you felt Wooyoung thrusting into you harder than you had initially done but it wasn't like you were about to complain.

It didn't take long before you felt Wooyoung's movements become frantic and you realized that he was about to cum again. Before Wooyoung could do anything else, you reached forward and grabbed his face again, prompting him to look at you, "You don't get to cum yet, pretty boy, I'm cumming first and then you'll wait until I told you that you could cum." Wooyoung pouted and whined, "Mommy why? I need to cum, please." You had to think that he was purposefully being loud to get you to slap him again because when you did, you swore you could see him smirking. "Weren't you a good boy? You can make me cum just with your cock, can't you? Or are you that pathetic that the woman had to do everything, huh?" your taunts successfully egged Wooyoung as he determinedly thrust into you. His face was scrunched and his movements were sloppy, beads of sweat started trickling down his face and the lack of changing expression on your face seemed to frustrate him.

You casually slipped your thumb into his mouth and pressed down on his tongue, "Don't you give me that look," you scoffed, "You talk big but you can't deliver, huh? Pathetic." Wooyoung tried whining again but this time you pressed your thumb more onto his tongue, not caring about the drool that accumulated and trickled down the sides of Wooyoung's mouth.

Maybe deep down you had a thing for pliable brats because, for some reason, the sight of your harsh treatment on Wooyoung got you fucking yourself quicker and quicker until your cunt clenched down on Wooyoung as you came.

The sudden tightness sent Wooyoung reeling and he came inside you immediately. The release felt amazing and your grip on him allowed his cum to be fully stuffed inside you.

"Fuck," you panted, coming down from your high first, "Didn't I tell you to wait for my permission?" you scoffed once you finally managed to find your voice again. Chest heaving, you weren't really mad that Wooyoung disobeyed you because you had just experienced the best sex you've ever had, bar none.

"M' sorry mommy, so so sorry," Wooyoung babbled with a stupid grin on his face, eyes blinking back as his euphoria died down. "Yeah, sure you're sorry," you shook your head, not believing his words even slightly because he looked like pure bliss. You were no better though because had there been a mirror, you would've seen that you were also smiling genuinely. You could simply say that it was because you just had sex, but you had to admit that it was also because you had done it with Wooyoung.

Thinking that you were done, you slowly detached yourself from Wooyoung. But before you could even get off properly, Wooyoung had leapt forward and pinned your body down.

"Wooyoung!" you hissed, surprised and you immediately tried to sit up only for Wooyoung to push your body back down.

"I'm sorry for not waiting for your permission, I feel bad, really. So let me clean you up real quick, yeah?" there was a mischievous glint in his eyes that was accompanied by a knowing smirk before he lowered his face down to your cunt.

You were about to have another best sex ever, bar none.

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[nordschleifes]

what happens after midnight?

➝ it was just supposed to be ten months of fun and traveling the world. but you didn't count on your heart going against you

➝ word count: 6,5k

➝ warnings: sugar relationships, hospitals, smut

➝ author's note: finally a finished work!

The watch on your wrist indicated that it was 5:30 PM. Pursing your lips, you watched through the screen set up in hospitality as the blue and pink car pulled into the pits for the second time. The momentary confusion that took over the place was replaced by frustration when the engineer's voice sounded across the room.

— Let's retire the car.

The silence that followed could seem melancholic, even given the context. However, you knew that the man inside the car was biting his tongue, holding back all the words that the frustration of yet another race unfinished that season, on that very day, would make him shout over the radio.

“I’m not a kid to whine, Y/N”, you heard him repeat in your mind, the phrase accompanied by the mischievous smile that made your internal organs turn into jelly. You had no idea what it would be like to live without seeing that smile.

Seeing that he was out of the car, you got up from your desk and silently slipped through the halls of the team facility. Something about that lonely walk made your heart sink even more, until you found the door with his name, the white letters against the navy blue background.

Fernando Alonso.

Your paths crossed months ago. With your student debt growing and the salary you earned during your internship being barely enough to pay your share of the bills for the apartment you lived in with a colleague, you decided to turn to the suggestion of one of your friends, whose life you had given a turning point after registering on a website specializing in sugar relationships.

The first few weeks were unpromising. The guys you had expressed interest in seemed more interested in more pictures of your breasts than in actually talking to you and coming to an agreement. Until, during a break in your shift at the hospital, a suggested profile caught your attention.

The main photo appeared to be professional, taken on the deck of a yacht, and showed a man with dark hair and the shadow of a smile on his face with his arms crossed. The other images were more informal, one taken next to an airplane window and another in the gym, a headband and the bulging veins on his neck indicating that he was exerting himself.

In the profile description, he presented himself as Fernando, a 41-year-old Spaniard looking for someone who could accompany him on his travels in exchange for a generous payment. The idea of getting paid to travel seemed interesting, but it definitely didn't fit with your idea of continuing your studies to become a doctor in Miami.

That night, you ended up not touching the heart on the screen.

However, as fate would have it, at the end of your internship, you did not receive the letter of recommendation that you needed so much to apply for the residency program that you had dreamed of since the beginning of your degree. You were passionate about the field of pediatrics and the idea of working in one of the great children's hospitals in Florida, the Holtz Children's Hospital, were always in your mind.

— Y/N, it is clear that, despite you being an excellent intern, you have been making silly mistakes when filling out the forms and records — your advisor said during your last meeting — Furthermore, the reports are far below what we expect from a student with your ability.

— But, my grades…

— They are sufficient, yes, but the program requires more than grades, Y/N — he said, as he removed his glasses — It requires residents to be in their best shape, both academically and mentally. And it's clear to me that you don't meet the second requirement.

You blinked. Was it so obvious that you were tired?

— So, what should I do? — you asked, trying to swallow the lump in your throat.

— I would advise you to try to apply for it next year.

— But, what can I do until then?

— I would recommend that you rest a little before continuing with your plans — he replied, smiling — Maybe learning a new hobby would be good. That or even a trip around the world, who knows.

Leaving your advisor's office with your dreams postponed had been a blow to you. However, his words reminded you of the man who was looking for someone to travel with. Sitting in your car, you searched for his profile and, after a deep sigh, you typed a short message, a simple question.

Still looking for a travel companion?

The answer didn't take long and came in a playful tone.

So obvious?

Well, that's what it says on your profile.

Good to know that you read it.

I thought it was something basic.

You'd be amazed at how many women don't read it before sending a message.

I can't blame them, your photos are much more interesting.

The conversation between you flowed almost naturally. He seemed intelligent, good-natured and, above all, interested in your life and career, asking questions and sharing little details, like the fact that his sister was also a doctor, just like you wanted to be. It was impossible to deny that there was an interesting chemistry between you.

However, this was not a flirting game, but rather, a business deal.

Do you still want to accompany me on my travels?

Well, I wouldn't be answering you if I wasn't interested, would I?

Very funny.

I'm just being honest.

Looking at the three dots flashing on the screen, there was some anticipation building up in your chest.

I like honesty. It's a good quality.

I assume you're honest too.

I am. So much so that I want to do this the right way. Can we meet next week?

Will you be in Miami?

In fact, in New York. But I can take a detour, what do you think?

Perfect.

Your first meeting was at a high-end Japanese restaurant, located on Claughton Island, called NAOE. You even thought you were in the wrong place, since the space was completely empty except for the employees who were preparing the dishes next to the chef, who was wearing a sort of white kimono. However, after identifying yourself, the maître d' confirmed that you were in the right place and asked you to sit at the only table that had been prepared there, conveniently behind a bamboo screen.

Fernando arrived shortly after, making you jump to your feet.

— Good evening, Y/N — he said, before placing a chaste kiss on your cheek — It's a pleasure to finally meet you.

— The pleasure is all mine.

After settling in at the table, the waiter wrote down the drinks you had chosen before returning to the kitchen. However, the request from the man in front of you only made you even more curious.

— Aren't you going to drink anything tonight?

Fernando smiled a little.

— I don’t drink.

— Never?

— Never. After I realized that alcohol wouldn't make me go faster, I chose to give it up — he replied — I don't smoke either, if that's your next question.

—Actually, my next question would be if I can drink in your presence — you smiled.

— As far as I know, we haven't signed anything. You can do whatever you want.

Dinner continued without any of you mentioning the agreement that had made him fly to Miami to see you. However, at the same time as you were eager to settle everything with him, something told you to let him bring up the subject.

— Are you always this quiet? — Fernando asked, as he put down the glass of water.

— No — you said, after swallowing the piece of sushi you were chewing.

— So there's something bothering you.

— No, there isn't.

He stared into your eyes, seeming to read between the lines of your words. Then, he let out a sigh, reaching into his pants’ pocket and taking out his cell phone.

— You want to talk about our agreement, don't you?

— Well, that's what you came here to do, isn't it?

— Actually, my intention was just to enjoy some good Japanese food alongside an interesting woman — Fernando said, while searching for something on the device — But, if you prefer to get straight to the point...

He held out the phone toward you. When you picked it up, you noticed that there was a document on the screen, with the title “Relationship Agreement” in bold letters at the top of it. Something about those words made your stomach churn with tension.

— I asked my lawyer to write a draft to guide our conversation. However, I want to make it clear that there are some topics that are non-negotiable for me…

— Sex? — you asked, raising an eyebrow.

— Confidentiality — Fernando replied — I'm a discreet person when it comes to my personal life and the last thing I want is my face on the cover of gossip magazines.

— So sex is negotiable?

— You're very interested in this topic, aren't you?

— Are you not interested?

A mischievous smile appeared on Fernando's lips.

— No — he replied — It's in the contract, if you want to take a look. Page three, if I'm not mistaken.

You scrolled through the document until you found the section that talked about intimacy, reading it carefully. In the document, sexual relations and any contact that could be classified as such were completely prohibited, as your relationship would be limited to the emotional context.

— This means…

— That I don't want sex from you. I just want your company, guapa.

— And you're going to pay me for this? — you raised an eyebrow.

— Yes, as described in the section on financial support — Fernando replied — The trips will be paid by me, as well as all your expenses while you are accompanying me. I will also give you a monthly allowance to do whatever you want with it.

You looked at his phone again, thoughtfully.

— You'll have an apartment in Monaco too — he murmured, as he ran his index finger along the rim of his glass.

— I will? Why?

— Because I want you around, Y/N. Besides, making you come back here every time will be too exhausting. Believe me, the first time is amazing, but after doing this for 20 years, flying has become the part I hate most about my job.

Pursing your lips, you looked up at the driver.

— And how long would that be valid?

— Until midnight of November 20th.

That's how you agreed to become Fernando's traveling companion, as he preferred to put it. And you could only describe those last few months as “a dream”.

When the door to the small room opened, you jumped up in the chair you were in, waking up suddenly from your daydreams. On the wall, the clock indicated that it was already past 6PM. Walking through the door, Fernando held a white towel in his hand and a bottle of water, keeping his head down. Behind him, Edoardo, his physiotherapist, was saying something in Italian, which he wasn't paying attention to.

— Prepare qui le nostre cose e, dopo la gara, lasceremo tutto alle persone dell'Aston — the driver replied, before raising his head and finding you in front of him. Pursing your lips, you fought your own frustration to be open to accepting his. And today, more than ever, Fernando needed you.

Dropping his things haphazardly on a small table placed next to the door, he walked over to you in silence, allowing you to wrap your arms around him and hug him. The silence that followed made your heart tighten in his chest. It wasn't the end of the season he deserved, quite the opposite.

— What happened? — you asked.

— Water pump — Fernando replied, the irritation evident in his voice — That shitbox…

You let out a sigh, stroking the back of his neck.

— It's okay, Fer. Now it's over.

Lifting his head, the driver looked at you, brushing aside a strand of your hair.

— Yeah. It’s over.

— Are you happy? — you asked in a low voice.

— That it’s over? I think so — Fernando said, while you watched a drop of sweat run down his temple — But, I have the feeling that I could have done it differently.

— Differently?

— I think I waited too long, guapa — he murmured.

— But it's over now. And you will move on, to a new place, with new people.

Fernando smiled a little.

— Yeah, I will.

He walked away from you to change, taking off his overalls and underwear to put on his shorts and blue team shirt. Meanwhile, you approached the table where his things were, such as his cell phone, his pass and the blue cap he had been wearing all day. Taking the accessory, you turned to him, who was sitting in a chair, tying his sneakers.

— Your cap — you said, smiling.

— Is my hair that bad?

You nodded, causing Fernando to laugh before stretching his hand towards you. However, you didn't hand it to him, preferring to push the strands that were on his forehead before positioning the accessory on his head. After arranging the strands at the back, he stood up with a smile.

— Thank you, guapa — the driver said, giving you a kiss on the cheek before heading towards the door and, consequently, the cameras that awaited him. After the door closed, your eyes found the hands of the clock on the wall.

“There’s still a long way to go”, you thought.

Between meetings, photos, goodbyes, welcomes and a long break for dinner, you and Fernando arrived at the double room you shared late at night. However, contrary to what you expected that morning, you didn't feel relief that the marathon was over or anxiety about finally catching your plane back to the United States.

You felt an almost suffocating sadness.

— What time does your flight leave tomorrow? — Fernando asked, settling down on the sofa in the small hall that connected the rooms while you placed your bag on the table in front of the television.

— Eight in the morning, I guess — you murmured, turning your face towards him — Why?

— Not at all, I just — he hesitated for a few seconds, running a hand through his hair — I wanted to know.

— Do you want to take me to the airport?

— Sincerely? No.

The coldness of the response made your throat tighten. Part of you wished he had replied that he wanted to take you to the airport. Part of you wanted him to say that he would like to spend every possible second by your side before you, inevitably, had to follow your own paths, your own destinies, that weren't tied to each other.

— You think it will be easier this way, don't you? — you murmured, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

— No — he replied, his eyes searching yours. You didn't want to look at him, but at the same time, you knew that this could be the last time you would do that — I think, one way or another, it's going to be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

The silence in that room was the longest that had ever stretched between you during all those months of coexistence.

— Why would it be?

— It doesn't matter now, Y/N.

You pressed your lips together, feeling something tighten in your throat.

Going back to Miami was the last thing you wanted at that moment. You wanted to be by his side. You wanted to wake up every day to his voice humming some song whose lyrics you didn't understand. You wanted to see the smile on his face every time you commented on an article about pediatrics that you had read.

However, you needed to go back. Those last few months had just been a detour, a break from his monotonous routine. There were people, commitments, a residency whose selection you had passed with flying colors, a lifetime of taking care of children waiting for you to move on.

And moving forward meant leaving Fernando behind.

You didn't notice the moment the first tear ran down your face, nor the second. But you noticed the movement of the driver in front of you, approaching with heavy steps. Placing his hands on your face, his expression was serious, almost dark, contrasting with the heat in his eyes.

— I have to let you go in peace — Fernando said softly, his thumb sliding over one of the tears that was stuck on your cheek.

Your lower lip trembled. You just wish it were all easier.

— Please, Y/N — Fernando continued — Don't ask me to take you to the airport. Don't ask me to say goodbye to you. Don't ask me to see you leaving, because I won't bear seeing you get on a plane without me.

At that moment, you had no idea if you would be able to get on a plane in a few hours. Not without Fernando by your side, carrying his trusty black backpack and making some comment about having a sweatshirt ready for you to wear when you get cold during the flight.

So, you asked the only question your mind was capable of formulating.

— What time is it?

— What?

— What time is it, Fernando? — you repeated, seriously.

Still holding his face, he turned his wrist slightly to look at the hands of the black Richard Mille he was wearing.

— Two past midnight — he murmured — You’re free now.

— No, I'm not free — you replied, bringing your face closer to his.

— But…

— I stopped being free a long time ago, Fernando.

Fernando's expression seemed sad, which made your heart feel heavy inside your chest.

You didn't know how to explain to Fernando that you would never be free again simply because you were completely in love with him. So much so that you hadn't even realized the exact moment it had happened.

Maybe it was the day he saw you reading an article about early childhood nutrition and asked you to explain the impact of cow's milk on babies. Maybe it was the day he took you on his motorbike to a viewpoint so you could watch the sunset over Monaco. Maybe it was the moment he introduced his world to you, describing every detail with enchanting passion. Maybe it was the day you pressed that heart on your cell phone screen, right below his photo.

And no piece of paper could control what your heart felt.

Using whatever courage you had left, you tilted your head and closed your eyes, brushing your lips against his. The touch was delicate and subtle, but enough to fill your chest with an almost unbearable heat. You had thought so much about what that moment would be like, fantasized so much about the different possibilities, imagined so many times what it would be like to be in Fernando's arms, that you felt a little hesitant about continuing.

However, the decision about the direction of that shy kiss was made by the driver. Moving closer to you, he placed your mouth completely against his, hands sliding towards the back of your neck. After a few seconds, he pulled away, panting.

— Y/N…

— Please, Fer.

However, he pulled away from you, pain evident in his green-stained eyes.

— No, Y/N — Fernando said, in a firm tone — Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be for both of us.

— You're the one who's making it difficult — you replied, feeling more tears filling your eyes — I want this...

— But you don't need this — he growled — You need to go back to your city, to your apartment, to your life. And this life has no place for me, just as there is no place for you in mine.

The statement was like a punch in the gut. Taking a step back, the feeling was of having awakened from the best dream of your life to find a true nightmare. Mentally, you questioned everything that had happened so far, from the dinner in Miami to that kiss permeated by your desire for him that had been repressed for so long. “So it was all a lie?”, you thought, as he walked towards his room.

— Fer…

— Goodbye, Y/N — he murmured over his shoulder, before disappearing into the dim light, with the door closing behind him.

Your skin felt cold, even in the residual desert heat that remained inside the suite. It was almost unbelievable that this would be the end of those ten months of smiles, jokes and laughter as the two of you traveled the world. A dry and cruel goodbye, without even looking back.

Walking slowly towards your room, you couldn't help but feel a strange emptiness inside your chest. Dropping down on the mattress anyway, you realized how exhausted you were, both physically, courtesy of the intense pace of a race day, and emotionally, with the mix of completely opposite feelings that made your lower lip tremble.

You felt that it was unfair, that the way you were being discarded by Fernando was cruel, not to mention painful. And the worst part was not being able to understand the reason for that attitude, for that cold look that shattered your heart. However, your rational side soon began to whisper in the back of your mind, condemning you for believing that he could see you beyond who you were from the beginning.

An acquisition. A product. A pretty thing for him to drag around the circuits.

That realization made tears run down your face, anger and sadness spilling out of you and making you sob loudly. You even thought about smothering your crying with the pillow, but you didn't move, allowing it to echo off the walls of the room, until it lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

You woke up to the sound of your cell phone's alarm clock. Rubbing your eyes, you stared at the ceiling for long seconds before finally working up the courage to get up from the bed and move forward.

Exactly as Fernando had asked.

As soon as you arrived in Miami, you decided to buy, with the money you had saved in the last few months, a studio near the beach, in addition to arranging the documentation for your residency at Holtz Children's Hospital, which was about to begin. Watching the fireworks that lit up the sea and announced the arrival of a new year, you promised yourself that the months to come would be better than the previous ones.

And by better, you meant no trips, no adventures and no crazy things.

No looks, no jokes, no laughter.

No men, no athletes, no Fernando.

The first few months passed in a blur. Hospital shifts took up much of your time, and your free time was spent reading articles about intriguing cases and organizing your new place. You didn't even notice spring arriving in the city, much less the anticipation for the great sporting event that the city would host in the following weeks.

You were making your first round of the rooms in the west wing of the hospital when, upon entering a room, you came across a little boy playing with a model of a dark blue Formula 1 car. Swallowing hard, you smiled widely.

— Good morning, Mrs. Melendi.

The boy's mother jumped up from her armchair.

— Good morning, doctor — she replied — Greet her, Omar.

The boy looked up at you.

— Hi.

— Good morning, Omar — you greeted him, placing one of your hands on the guard of his bed — How are you feeling today?

— Well — he replied, returning his attention to the cart.

— He spent the night better, doctor, breathing better. But he is still coughing a lot and complains of chest pain.

Accessing Omar's chart on your iPad, you pursed your lips as you thought. The boy's body should already be fighting harder against the infection in his lungs, but his history of asthma didn't make you so optimistic in this regard. This was one of those cases that would ask for patience, both from you and from the boy's mother.

— Well, the night has already brought a good sign. However, the cough will still persist for a while, as the body is trying to get this fluid out somehow. For now, let's continue with what was prescribed and I'll ask the physiotherapy team to send someone here to do some exercises to speed up the release of this secretion, okay?

— Doctor, does this mean I'll be able to see Checo?

You blinked, trying to process if you had understood correctly.

— Who?

— Checo, the Formula 1 driver! — Omar exclaimed — He's going to race here this week!

The Miami Grand Prix, you had completely forgotten about that.

— Ah, I see — you smiled — Everything will depend on your progress. If you take your medication correctly and undergo rehabilitation, I can try to release you by Friday. What do you think?

The boy agreed to your proposal, seeming excited about the prospect of seeing his idol race. However, as you left the room, you felt completely dazed, the memories of the previous year filling your eyes with tears.

That was a weekend of ups and downs, with a punishment causing Fernando to lose the measly two points he had managed to gain. However, those days had been worth it just for the opportunity to introduce him to your city and see how he was enchanted by every detail.

— Doctor? Are you okay? — someone asked you. Looking to the side, you found one of the nurses looking at you somewhat confused.

— Yes, everything is fine.

— Did something happen to Omar?

— No, he's progressing well — you replied, trying to compose yourself — I'm going to ask the rehabilitation staff to do a respiratory therapy session to speed up the drainage of fluids.

— Is the medication dosage still the same?

— Yes, everything’s the same — you murmured, before continuing your rounds, trying to ignore the memories that had been awakened during the visit to Omar's room. However, the task became more difficult when a notification with a painfully familiar name appeared on your cell phone during one of your breaks.

Hi, how are you?

Staring at the screen in almost disbelief, you took a few seconds to type a response, trying to balance your emotions in a single line.

Hello, Fernando. I'm fine, thanks for asking.

Are you in Miami?

Yes, why?

I found your sweatshirt in my apartment. I wanted to give you back.

The photo that accompanied the message made something turn in your stomach. That was your favorite sweatshirt, the first one you had bought when you entered university, and at that point, you had already come to terms with the fact that it was lost forever.

Oh, do you want me to go take it back?

No, I can give it to you. Where are you?

I'm still in the hospital, you can leave it at reception.

I want to hand it personally to you. I can stop by your place later, what do you think?

You were already regretting your answer as you walked to the entrance of your studio, feeling suffocated by anxiety. However, when you opened the door, it was as if you had come to the surface to breathe again, the familiar warmth spreading through your chest.

In front of you was Fernando. He didn't seem to have changed at all since the last time you had seen him, on that fateful night in Abu Dhabi. With a shy smile on his face, he wore a green shirt with the familiar silver wings of Aston Martin, the team he was racing for that year, as well as a white box in his hands.

“This color makes him even more handsome”, you thought to yourself.

— Hi — the driver said softly.

— Hey.

— Can I enter?

— Yeah, sure — you replied, opening the way for him.

The driver passed you silently, taking in the space you were living in. Seeing him there, in the place you had chosen to recover after the mess that had been that Sunday in Abu Dhabi, was strange, not to say wrong. However, this was definitely not the time to question whether his presence there was appropriate or not.

— Everything’s good? — you asked, trying to start a dialogue with him.

— Yeah, all very well. And with you?

— All good.

— It's yours? — he questioned you, gesturing with his finger to refer to the place.

— Yeah, it's mine. I bought it as soon as I got back here — you replied.

Fernando approached a shelf where there were some photos of the trips you had taken with him. There were images from all over the world, from Japan to Brazil, some with your silhouette highlighted or even his. However, he didn't seem to notice that particular detail, as he pointed to another framed image.

— Sardinia?

— Monaco. It's the beach in front of your apartment.

The silence that stretched between you was long, almost deafening. Crossing your arms, you tried to maintain a neutral expression, trying to focus on anything other than the charming lock that fell across his forehead.

— Do you miss it? — Fernando asked.

— Monaco? Not much, I didn't spend enough time there.

— And me?

You looked away to the apartment door, giggling awkwardly.

— I thought you were coming to give me back my hoodie, not do an interrogation.

— Here's your hoodie — he said, harshly, extending the box towards you — And this isn't an interrogation, Y/N. I just asked a question.

— About how I feel about you — you murmured, taking the box and placing it on your dining table.

— Is it wrong to ask?

— When that question doesn't make any sense, yes, it's wrong — you replied, looking over your shoulder.

— Why?

— Because it's wrong, Fernando.

— That's not an answer, Y/N — he replied — Come on, why doesn't it make sense?

Turning at once, anger rose like a hot wave across the back of your neck.

— Because you just discarded me like I was a fucking defective toy.

Fernando looked at you, seriously.

— You know that's not how I see you.

— No? And when you said you didn't have any space in your life for me? Isn't that discarding?

— Y/N — the driver murmured, running a hand through his hair.

— What? — you growled — Is this the way you show that you like me, that you care about me? Saying you don't want me near you?

You didn't have time to react before he advanced towards you, stopping just inches from your face. Fernando was so close to you that you could feel the heat of his skin, as well as the warm and slightly sweet smell of the cologne he was wearing at that moment. It was different from what he normally wore, but it wasn't all bad.

— Would you rather I forbid you from returning? That I stopped you from realizing your dreams? — he returned — Would you prefer if I locked you in a cage or put a collar around your neck to have you all to myself?

The words were stuck in your throat, your bottom lip trembling.

— I know my place in your life, Y/N. And I can't fight it, I can't fight the fact that I can't go further.

— Can't, or don't want to? — you asked in a low voice.

Fernando stared at you for long seconds, as if he was measuring his own words. Bringing your hands up to his face, you stroked the gray speckled beard you loved so much but had never been able to convince him to keep.

— I can't — he murmured, as his thumbs drew circles on his cheek — Y/N, please...

— But you want it — you stated, your eyes going down to his mouth, where his tongue slid to moisten his own lips — You want me.

— Yes, but…

— Then take what you want. Kiss me, touch me, make me what I was from the beginning, from the moment you looked at me for the first time.

The seconds of silence that stretched after your words seemed endless. Bringing your face closer to his, your nose lightly touched Fernando's, almost as a foreshadowing of what was about to happen.

— Make me yours — you whispered.

The moment his lips touched yours was sublime. Your chest filled with a hot, overwhelming sensation, your hands gripping his face tightly. At that moment, you tried to hold on to that feeling of finally being in the place you always imagined yourself in: in Fernando's arms.

It didn't take long for his tongue to invade your mouth, his hands squeezing your waist and bringing your body closer, as if he wanted you two to become one. And personally, that was your only desire at that moment, as you slid your lips down his neck.

— You've always been a naughty girl, haven't you? — Fernando asked as soon as you nibbled on his ear, your fingers squeezing your skin — So naughty, so beautiful...

Taking a few steps back, the driver escaped from you momentarily, sitting on the gray sofa you had in the living room. With his hands to your shirt, you didn't need any words from him to rip it off your body, your shorts sliding down your legs soon after. Taking in the sight of you completely naked for the first time, an almost boyish gleam appeared in Fernando's eyes.

— You are much more beautiful than I imagined…

— You mean you imagined me naked? — you questioned with a suggestive smile, while positioning your knees next to his legs, straddling his lap.

— It's hard not to imagine when you wore those indecent little pajamas of yours to bed — he murmured, his hands sliding down your thighs, while you supported yourself on his shoulders — That baby blue one was wonderful.

— Do you want me to put it on?

A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.

— Now that I've taken off your clothes, I'm not going to ask you to put them back on — Fernando replied, taking his hand to his face and, with a subtle movement, bringing his lips to his in a delicate, almost careful kiss. It was up to you, after a few seconds, to wrap your arms around his neck and ask for passage to explore his mouth the way you wanted.

Sliding his hands down to your butt, the driver made you stand up, bringing his face to one of your breasts. The soft touch of his tongue made you shudder, your fingers digging into his dark curls as a moan escaped his lips.

— I could hear you moaning all night long — Fernando murmured against your skin, his eyes fixed on yours, getting drunk with the pleasure in your expression — Asking, begging for me, the way I always imagined...

It didn't take long for you to start to feel the arousal become uncomfortable, almost painful. You needed more, much more than just kisses and nibbles on your breasts. Lowering your hips just above the not-so-discreet bulge in his shorts, you looked at Fernando, trying to condense what you wanted into a look full of desire.

Without saying anything, he repositioned you a little back, giving him some space to open the button and zipper of your shorts, sliding them and your underwear down. The movement allowed his dick to be revealed, hard and particularly large, with the veins standing out along its length. Biting your lower lip, you brought your index finger to one of them, following the path from the base to the tip, feeling Fernando's muscles tense.

— What do you think?

Looking up at him, you smiled.

— Good.

—Wasn't that what you imagined?

— It's hard to say, since every time I imagined your dick, it was in my mouth or my pussy.

Bringing a hand to your face, Fernando caressed your cheek.

— You are very naughty.

You chose not to answer, rising again to align your own entrance with his cock. Then, you lowered yourself, feeling him enter inch by inch, settling inside you. Closing your eyes, you allowed a moan to escape your lips, as did Fernando, who grunted against your neck.

After a few seconds, you started to move, testing angles and rhythms, until you found one that you liked. With your hands resting on his shoulders, you alternated between quick vertical movements, followed by slower, deeper thrusts. At that point, her breasts were completely red, marked by Fernando's teeth and hickeys. Marks that you would carry with pride, because it was his mouth and his passion that had done it.

— You're so beautiful — he growled, as his hands roamed over her skin — How could I have been able to let you go...

You couldn't resist the urge to kiss him again, searching for Fernando's lips as if they were the surface and you were looking for air to breathe. In that tangle of arms, hands and fingers, you felt complete. Finally complete.

— I'm going to... Oh my God, Fer, I'm going to cum — you whimpered, as you slid your hips back and forth, rubbing your clit against his pubic bone. Noticing the agony in your expression, he slid his hand until he reached your most sensitive spot. Then, massaging it, he brought you to orgasm, making you let out a loud moan, your muscles shaking and your head lolling back.

Beneath his body, Fernando took a few seconds before reaching his peak, spilling himself inside you with a loud moan, his hands holding your hips tightly to stop your movement.

The silence inside the room wasn't complete due to your heavy breathing. With your forehead pressed against his, your eyes were closed, absorbing that moment and the entire range of feelings that filled your chest with an inexplicable warmth.

— Y/N — Fernando whispered.

— Yeah?

— What now?

You moved your face slightly away from his, analyzing his furrowed eyebrows and anxiety-filled brown eyes. You knew it was impossible to turn around or simply pretend it hadn't happened, especially when you were sure you wanted to do it several more times. But did he want that?

— Well, we have two ways — you started, brushing his bangs away from his forehead — We can classify this as an accident on the road and go back to our lives...

— No, definitely not.

— Or we can stop fooling ourselves and actually live this.

— This? — he raised an eyebrow.

— This. Our relationship — you tried to classify it.

— And by truly living, you mean…

— Without pretending that we don’t have feelings for eachother.

Fernando pressed his lips together, looking away from yours. He was definitely hesitant about taking that step. And you were sure you wouldn't let him leave you there, with that doubt hanging over you.

— Do you want me to come back with you to Europe? — you asked softly, making him look at you again.

— Would you come back?

— If you wanted.

The driver let out a heavy sigh.

— I don't want to ask you this, Y/N.

— Why not?

— Because I don't want you to give up everything for me and my career.

— You talk as if this is the only place in the world where there are hospitals accepting residents — you countered, placing your hands on his cheeks — I'll find a way, Fer. We'll find a way. But I ask you just one thing.

— What?

— Don't leave me here, alone.

Fernando smiled, bringing his face closer to yours.

— Never, guapa.

[neristudy]

A little guide on How I Use Clozemaster

Some of you may have noticed that I mention Clozemaster quite often in my posts. And you may be wondering - how can I use it, when in fact it's pretty darn chaotic and shouldn't help in any way at all?

Well, I'm about to tell you! And haha, don't mind that everything in the screenshots is very “fresh” - I created a new account purely for my pc.

First, you can use it as a simple grammar repetition. Not as a standalone, it will not help you learn the language on it's own, nothing will, but simultaneously with another source of learning, idealy - book or course - it will do wonders.

Are you too lazy to write flashcards? Are you busy with your regular life? Honestly, feel ya. Sometimes I am just not in the mood tbh.

In this case, Clozemaster can give you a pretty good number of possible phrases that you can even use later in your regular life. You can run up to 3 lessons for free daily, 10 cards in each, but i recomend using for this kind of learning only 2/3. Why? Bc for 3rd, you can train your listening.

What you need to do is to pick "Listening", and also - get yourself some notebook/tablet/literally anything on which you can write, and pick two very different colors. For me it's usually black/blue for my attempts, and red for corrections.

Next, listen to the phrase the program is saying and write down what you think you hear. Yes, even if you have absolutely no idea what in the unliving hell they are sayin. Write something down, anything. Next, when you get a chance to “type” what you hear, you enter it into the program, and it corrects your mistakes for you, and basically tells you the answer.

Here's a few of my own! And I already feel like you want to ask me - Neri, but there's an option in the program itself to type the answer, why bother writing in one color and then correcting it with another?

Because, love, hear me out: you typed the answer, and that's it. Out of sight, out of mind. And so, you are left with no the physical manifestation of what you were able to recognize, guess, or on what part you've screwed up.

This is very important to have in front of your eyes, especially when inevitably you will get better and better at that.

And also, you can literally watch the progress of your own understanding. For example, last time I didn't forget the umlaut in the word, but this time I did - why? Was I simply tired and did not paid enough attention? Did I confuse it with another word? I didn't understand what the phrase sounded like and heard a different one? These are very important questions to ask yourself.

In the end, it's a very useful little program to use - and the 30 words a day that the free version provides (i.e., in my case, 20 simple cards and 10 listening cards) is more than enough for a marathon.

After all, remember, language learning is not a race, it's a marathon. A slow but persistent person will reach the end, where a sprinter will run out of steam.

[russellius]

THE SUNDAY TIMES: Molly Hudson, Saturday November 30 2024, 6.00pm GMT

Listening to George Russell field questions about the controversial issues that threaten the future of the sport with clarity and calmness, you would be hard pushed to detect that he was once an unsure and self-conscious child.

Russell as a director of the Grand Prix Drivers’ Association is now one of Formula 1’s leading public voices. But such were his difficulties, he was sent for speech therapy and that focus on clear enunciation has been crucial in helping him progress in a sport that requires concise feedback.

“When I was a young kid, six or seven, my dad used to say he could never understand what I was saying, because I was mumbling all the time,” Russell says as he sits in his team kit in the Mercedes hospitality suite. “As I grew a little bit older, and I started to race in Europe, for three years I had an Italian mechanic. I was in an Italian team. It was a European environment, and you had to talk slow, you had to talk precisely so they could understand.”

“When I was with Force India [now Aston Martin], as a test driver, we did some work with an ex-RAF pilot, just about clear communications and interpretations of people’s words and that really resonated with me.”

The 26-year-old secured his third Formula 1 victory last week in Las Vegas, and that communication came to the fore. He recognised that the track evolution, which meant that lap times were improving as the track was swept clean of dirt by the cars and rubber was laid on the circuit, meant the last car on track would have the best chance of success.

“Vegas was a good example — in qualifying, I was so clear. ‘I want to be the very last car to cross the line.’ It was pretty clear what my requests were. We did that, and we got the pole. I believe in myself this year, especially whenever I’ve trusted my gut,” he says.

Russell was born in King’s Lynn, and attended the private Wisbech Grammar School, before his karting took precedence. He spent his first Formula 1 pay cheque on a new Mercedes for his father, Steve, who ran a business selling seeds and pulses and travelled with his son to races in a motorhome while he was karting.

That family dedication has paid off. Russell is preparing to begin a pivotal new chapter of his career, stepping out of the shadow of seven-times world champion Lewis Hamilton and becoming Mercedes’s lead driver next season, alongside a rookie teenager, the Italian Andrea Kimi Antonelli.

It has been a season of ups and downs for Mercedes, struggling to find a consistent car despite registering four race victories, and managing the departure of Hamilton to Ferrari at the end of the season. Russell has transformed from someone who watched Hamilton race, to being his colleague, and he leads him in the drivers’ championship.

“I definitely looked up to him and admired him,” Russell says. “My hero, honestly, was my brother [Benjy, who also raced under the driver No63 he uses]. “He’s ten years older than me, and he’s who I looked up to when I was go-karting, because that was maybe more relatable for me. He was winning races in go-karts, and he was winning British championships, World Championships, and that’s what I wanted to do, because I could visually see him doing that.

“But without doubt, I’ll always remember my first F1 race for Mercedes [shortly before signing to their young driver development programme] in Abu Dhabi 2016, the Nico [Rosberg] and Lewis race, and just being in the same room as him in the debrief, listening to it all unfold. I was starstruck being there in that moment. So for sure it is surreal that we’ve now been team-mates for three years, and that I know within myself that I can perform at a minimum of his level.”

Russell has raced in 126 grands prix, with three victories, four pole positions and 15 podium finishes, having spent three seasons at a struggling Williams, before stepping up to Mercedes in 2022. His highest finish in the drivers’ championship was fourth, in 2022. This season is his most successful statistically speaking, but he is further down the rankings in sixth because of the spread of drivers claiming wins.

For so long, Hamilton carried the hopes of British fans in F1, and this season Lando Norris has provided the best chance of success. Russell believes next year can be his opportunity, assuming he has the car to do so.

“I’ve been in F1 six years now, next year is my seventh, and my fourth year with the team,” he says. “I feel absolutely ready to take my journey to the next level and I feel ready to fight for a championship. I feel ready to fight against Max [Verstappen] and if we get the opportunity, I’m not going to waste it.

“I feel I’ve been ready for three years. I’m team-mates with the greatest driver of all time and if you’re ever finishing ahead of Lewis Hamilton or beating him in a championship, you know that probably in 12 other seasons that would have been enough to win, or at least fight for a world championship.”

Russell has learnt to celebrate the good times with gusto when they do arrive, cancelling his flight home to party, instead, in Vegas with his girlfriend, Carmen Montero Mundt, and his team members.

The Vegas grand prix is particularly brutal on the body, as it involves travelling to the other side of the world, and then it is held at night. Before claiming his pole position, Russell took a 45-minute nap in his driver’s room.

Those challenges meant extra celebration, and something Russell had been inspired to do by a fellow driver.

“I listened to Fernando [Alonso] when he was on the Jake Humphrey podcast saying he looks back on his victories and regrets not celebrating it more [but] I’ve got to be honest, when I was out in Vegas until the early hours there’s a point of which I thought to myself, ‘You know what, I need to head back now, because I want to experience this feeling again.’ ”

Russell knows that the ability to challenge for titles is dependent on the capability of his car as much as it is a marker of his own talent. His time at Mercedes has coincided with the dominance of Red Bull and Verstappen.

“Arguably, Max shouldn’t have won the championship this year,” he says. “But the others made a few more errors and didn’t capitalise when they had the chance. I feel that we have [won what we could].

“Opportunities don’t come around every single day. This year was Lando’s chance. They [McLaren] might be there again next year. They may not. We just don’t know in this sport; nobody would have predicted Red Bull to fall off form in the manner that they have.

“There’s so much hype around Max. He’s such an exceptional driver, but the fact is, he’s won one race in the last 12 and, it just goes to show everyone is beatable because you are at the mercy of your race car. The difference with him this year is he’s won every occasion that he’s had the chance, and his rivals haven’t.”

Russell will hope that next year he has the chance to show he can capitalise where others have not.

[twst-aceofhearts]

Reddened

a/n: I'm so sorry this took so long TT - there may be a pt 2 idk depends on how busy I'll be with school - also don't ask why i posted this at 2:30 am

~sorry if you're not good at math but I had Yuu be good at it for the sake of this fic~

pairing: Deuce x Yuu

words: 1606

taglist: @luxaryllis @thegoldencontracts @waterthatsmoe

Deuce has been getting tutored by Yuu due to Professor Crewel’s orders. They didn’t mind, of course! They’ve been friends with Deuce for a while now. Although, lately, he’s been acting a bit weird.

“I-I think I get it now!” Deuce’s face turns red as Yuu’s hand accidentally brushes against his.

Yuu smiled. “That’s good. Here—try one more time and we can take a break.”

Deuce nods, his face still pink. He takes his pencil and answers a math question. “Is this…right…?” He gives a sheepish smile, trying not to look at Yuu directly in the eye.

Yuu picked up his notebook, looking over what he wrote. “It’s right,” They handed it back to him, placing it in front of him.

Deuce lets out an exhale, relief taking over his expression. “I’m really starting to get the hang of this…”

He glances up at Yuu to study their face, his eyes darting from their eyes to the corners of their mouth, then to Yuu’s cheek. He suddenly looks like there’s something on his mind.

Yuu tilted their head. “Deuce?”

Deuce quickly turns away, trying to hide his reddening face. He’s been staring at Yuu for a moment too long and he knows it. He doesn’t exactly know how to respond when Yuu addresses it.

“Huh?” he says, his voice cracking. “I-I’m just thinking.” 

His hands fidget with the pen in his hands, still avoiding eye-contact.

“Uh…okay. You want to go grab a drink from the vending machine and take a break?” Yuu paid no mind to it, rummaging through their bag for their wallet.

“S-sure, yeah, that sounds good!” Deuce replies. The break would give him the chance to clear his head a little.

Deuce shuts the textbook, placing his pen on top of the hard cover. He stands up, waiting for Yuu to do the same.

Yuu nodded, finding their wallet and standing up beside him. “Let’s go.”

Deuce follow Yuu, walking out of the library. He can’t help but sneak glances at Yuu from time to time as they make their way down the hall. He struggles to keep his eyes on the path ahead of him, his eyes darting away whenever they looked in his direction, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Yuu suddenly stopped in place, causing him to bump into them. Deuce lets out a surprised ‘oof’ as he collides into them. He stumbles back a little, regaining his footing before addressing Yuu. 

“Why’d you stop? What’s the matter?”

Yuu raised an eyebrow at him, pointing at the vending machine beside themself.

Deuce’s eyes followed the direction of their finger. He blinked once before he realized what they were pointing at. “O-oh,” he mutters, “right…”

With Yuu standing so close next to him, Deuce is becoming aware of his body, and the fact that him and Yuu were practically touching.

“Which one do you want?” Yuu went through their wallet, taking out a few thaumarks.

It takes a second for Deuce’s mind to understand what Yuu was asking. He’s too focused on the feeling of Yuu being right next to him. “Huh? Oh, um…”

He quickly scans the drink selection, searching for the one he likes. The last thing he wanted to do was make them wait long enough for Yuu to get suspicious of his behavior. “I’ll take the strawberry one,” he answers, “if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Yeah, sure,” Yuu inserted the thaumarks, getting a strawberry for Deuce and a [flavor] one for themself.

Deuce watches as Yuu use the vending machine to get the drinks. His heart is racing, still trying to calm his nerves. He mentally scolds himself for being flustered over something as stupid as standing too close to them. Yuu has done things like this before plenty of times. Why was it bothering him so much now?

Deuce lets out a defeated huff, accepting that he’s going to continue feeling this way for the rest of the day. He can only hope to not act like too much of an idiot around them.

“We should go back now before someone steals our stuff,” Yuu handed him his drink, before taking a sip of their own.

Deuce nods in agreement, taking the drink from their hand. He’s still feeling a little flustered, and he’s worried they might notice. He  takes a sip of the drink in order to avoid having to speak.

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

While walking back, Yuu suddenly spoke up. “Can I try yours?”

Deuce nearly chokes on his drink when they ask him to share. He wasn’t expecting anything like that, swallowing hard before stammering a response. 

“U-uh, sure…?”

Yuu let out a grateful hum, drinking from the straw—the same straw where he drank from.

Deuce stares in silent shock. When Yuu pulled away, he’s left a little breathless. He didn’t even think that they’d want to do that. The act of sharing a drink felt very personal to him—not that he’s opposed to the idea. In fact, he’s already imagining drinking from the same place as them again.

“Here you go. It’s refreshing. You have good taste,” Yuu complimented, handing him his drink back.

Deuce manages to find the words to speak again, a little embarrassed by Yuu’s compliment. He takes the drink back, wrapping his fingers around the plastic bottle. 

“Y-yeah, it’s my favorite,” he says, trying to keep his voice steady. Taking their praise like that made  him flustered in a way he couldn’t explain. He wanted to hear them say that again, and again, and again.

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

Back in the library, Yuu plopped down in their chair, letting out a small sigh—relieved that nothing was stolen.

Deuce follows Yuu’s lead, sitting next to them. He’s still feeling the after effects of their compliment—he had practically been left speechless afterwards. Even now, he’s silently fidgeting with his hands. He glances in Yuu’s direction from the corner of his eye. He was wondering if Yuu could see how red his cheeks were.

“...Deuce? Are you okay? Your face is redder than Riddle’s hair,” Yuu chuckled, opening the textbook once more to start the next topic.

Deuce’s eyes snap to Yuu when they address his red face. He silently panics, trying to think of a way to respond that wouldn’t be suspicious.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” He tries to laugh it off, but it comes across as a little too hasty. “It’s just a little warm in here, that’s all!”

“...? It’s 60 degrees (F) in here though plus air conditioning,” Yuu blinked twice while looking up, their eyes meeting his.

Deuce winces a little at their comment. He knows it’s not real convincing, but he it’s not like he can suddenly drop the “Oh yeah, I have a crush on you” card right away at random. 

As Yuu’s eyes meet his, he could suddenly feel the redness in his cheeks spreading to his ears.

“I-I don’t know, I guess I’m just…” he trails off, looking for a way to end his sentence that isn’t a lie. “I’m just feeling a little off today, that’s all.”

Yuu shrugged, pushing the textbook with the correct page in front of him. “If you say so.”

Deuce lets out a quiet sigh of relief as they drop the subject. He’s silently grateful that Yuu hadn’t pushed anything further, turning his attention to the hardcover book in front of him and trying to focus on what he’s supposed to do. There were still things he needed to fully get a grasp of.

After a moment, Deuce speaks up again. “Can I ask you something really fast?”

Deuce hesitates, not sure how to phrase his question. Well, go big or go home as they say.

“How do you know if you, um…have feelings for someone?”

“...oh wow,” Yuu was expecting a question more related to the topic of geometry, not…relationship advice. 

“Well…” they trailed off. “...I guess if you feel happy with them and look forward to seeing them again.”

“Right,” he nods. That’s a given, he thought. There were more specific signs he was wondering about though.

“What if you also get really…flustered when you’re around them. Like, you get this feeling in your chest, and your heart starts beting really fast. And you can’t concentrate on anything else because they’re the only thing on your mind. And when they stand too close, you get all dizzy and stuff…is that a sign of having feelings for someone?”

Yuu blinked. “That’s oddly specific. Do you have a crush on someone or something?”

Deuce freezes at their question, his eyes wide. It was like the read his mind. “I…I’m just curious,” he says, trying to keep a composed tone. It’s a little strained.

“Then…yeah. That too.”

Deuce nods in response, trying to hide his nervousness. Their words don’t help him feel any better about his situation. If anything he’s more flustered now.

He thinks back to all the times he’d experienced all the things he asked them about—of all the times it happened around them. The realization causes him to feel his heart pound in his chest again. It definitely wasn’t just a small crush he had on Yuu.

“...Deuce, you know you can tell me anything right?”

Deuce looks back up, making eye contact. He can see that genuine look in their eyes—they’re being serious right now, silently telling him he doesn’t have to hide anything from Yuu.

He’s a little torn on what he should do. Should he be honest with you—telling you the truth? Should he try and push these feelings away—hoping they go away eventually? After a moment of silence, Deuce musters up enough courage to answer. 

“Yeah… I know.”

credit to @cafekitsune for divider

[s-4pphics]

i NEED to see a street racer ellie x grid girl reader fic IM ON MY KNEES FOR THIS🙏🏾🙏🏾

OHHHHHHHHHHH WEVE DONE IT AGAIN IMPULSIVE HCS

wc;cw: 800 or sum, streetracer!ellie, gridgirl!oc, ellie being a car nerd and hot, mentions of sex MDNI, mentions of ciggies and illegal shit

streetracer!ellie…… passes out 

she always loved cars :3 her dad owned a mechanic shop and used to watch him repair all the damaged cars that showed up

when she was thirteen he finally let her help him replace the tires 

and then change the oil

and then fix the ignition 

eventually taught her how to drive stick😝😝

and 2 years later she knew the anatomy of vehicles like the back of her hand 

she was on her dads payroll 💯💯 shout out to mechanic!ellie😞

when she found out ab street racing she got obsessed with it. 2 fast 2 furious is her favorite movie of all time

her youtube history was wild😞😞 30 hours of devon aoki edits saved 

so when she got invited to a race by one of her friends when she was a junior for her birthday she almost passed out 

the screech of the tires on the pavement and smell of gas gave her heart eyes

she swore she was going to participate in a race after they both left that night

SIKE she thought everyone laughed at her when she showed up the next day in her dads beaten up family van LMFAO 

the bullying was devious fr😞 she cried a little when she got home

but ofc her friend helped her ass out and high jacked his brothers old nissan

the overseers allowed her to participate but nobody bet on her except her 2 friends. that $20 pitch didn’t help her confidence much but she loved them😞

she was nervous and filled with adrenaline and tried so hard not to gawk at the hot girls that waved their grids around 

when they waved their flags and signaled for the racers to go….

ellie was out that bitch fr😞😞 SKKRTED ON THEY ASS BIG PURRR

VVRRRROOOOOOOM LIKE BFRRR

she hit every sharp turn every curve every bump like it wasn’t shit 

she made everybody eat they words that night. HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEENIE😝😝

some overseers gave her $300 outta pocket that night and she wasn’t even on the list to race 

her and her friends went every weekend. would leave campus and go straight to the tracks fr

she started getting a little fan base after a month of racing😞😞 girlies from school would come just to see her 

but she didn’t pay them any mind💯💯 she payed them a little mind 

n 5 years later…. most betted on racer in the city YUHHHH 

she makes racks every weekend… and she brings it all home to her dad so she can take care of him 🥺🥺

he doesn’t question where she gets the cash from but he always feels nervous when she leaves the house🥺🥺 poor old man he just wants his baby to go to college

she owns one mclaren senna but never takes it anywhere😞😞 it just sits in her garage lol she paid for that shit in cash tho big bags big stacks

drives a fucked up supra when she races😂😂 she tries to cover up the scratches and large dents with cute little spray paint jobs of fire and sparkles and shit😂😂

she named it renee and slaps the trunk like she slaps ass every time she gets behind the wheel :3 thinks it’s good luck

smokes cigarettes mmmm fuuuck

such an aggressive racer like omgg she gets so competitive and pissed she's so hot

tatted to hell. full sleeve

TERRIBLE RECORD!!!!! arrested twice and was on parole :/

but at least all the grid girls got a little crush on her 😳😳 titties out ass out bc they want her attention 

all the male racers hate her bc of it… she don’t care tho suck her dick💯💯

she’ll never say it but…

she definitely stares too long at one grid girl whenever she shows up in her little croppies and booty shorts😞 she’s fine as hell ITS NOT HER FAULT💯💯

too bad gridgirl!oc doesn’t pay ellie any mind anymore :((she had the prettiest smile and such good pussy 

that ooey-gooey. that sloppy. THE WORLD'S BEST CREAMER💯

did i mention they're ex's? YEAAAH CLOCK THAT TEA

every time ellie fills up her tank she can’t stop thinking about the time she bent her ex over the trunk and railed her from the back 

she may never feel that pussy again 😞😞 it makes her wanna cry 

when she met gridgirl!oc for the first time two years ago her world changed for the better

her zits disappeared, her hair got softer, her crops were watered

they fell in love immediately…. like instantly 

they were inseparable. up each other's ass. in each other's cars. in each other's guts. so so happy 

until they weren’t 

their breakup was soooo fucking messy. 

cheating accusations. screaming contests. EVEN A PREGNANCY SCARE???😳😳😳

a hot mess. and their relationship ended in flames :(

but that doesn’t mean ellie can’t peep every once in a while😛😛 that ass is still fat as fuck regardless of the beef >:)

[think-ill-watch-it-burn]

I was listening to music again and another little story wrote itself. I may just start a whole series of these, a little simp jukebox if you will.

Anyway, here's a cute little Joker thing. Please forgive any errors, it's currently 4:30 in the morning and I've been up with a 6 month old since 7:30 yesterday morning. I hope it came out okay!

Under the cut because loong

Joker/52

There Goes My Baby

Here he goes, lurking in the shadows like a creep again. Typical.

A single sharp eye followed you, hopping rooftop to rooftop, skirting landings, sifting through crowds and propping himself anonymously just close enough. Something about it felt wrong. Everything about it felt compulsory.

It was his own stupid fault. You got too close to him, he told himself. You'd only get burned, figuratively if not literally. So the only thing to do about it was hurt you, push you away. Leave you. Which he had every intention of doing. Walk away and don't look back. He'd done it plenty of times before. It wasn't hard.

Except with you it was. Painfully so.

The first couple weeks he didn't see you out much, to his private dismay. And then he did - and somehow that was worse. This whole thing was unexpected and uncomfortable.

Every few paces you ran into someone - had a conversation, shared a hug, a smile and a quick hello. Some walked with you, some you seemed eager to part. You paid them an acceptable amount of attention. Not too much. Clearly casual. Nothing threatening.

Until there was.

A man you'd hugged enthusiastically the first time he saw you together. A man who walked with you often, frequently touched you, made you laugh and lingered long enough to make him grit his teeth. Walk away, he'd growled under his breath.

He had no right to these territorial feelings, he knew that. He didn't want them. He chose this.

Yet there he was. Watching you from afar, yet again, day after day.

Compulsory.

It became unbearable. Panic bubbled in his chest.

Was it a mistake?

It was late evening and you met this man on the sidewalk, walking… where? Was this...?

A date?

The feeling was unbearable. He had to plant his feet to stop himself from hopping down in front of you.

You walked with this man - too close, he thought - your giggles floating to him on the breeze, conversation too far to hear but the happiness in your voice clear even from afar.

Guilt gripped him. You were supposed to move on. That was the point.

Wasn't it?

With a flick of his lighter and a slow drag from his cigarette he disobeyed every instinct screaming at him and turned heel, hands in his pockets strolling away from you. This whole endeavor foolish. Why torment himself like this?

But it followed him, that sinking, anxious feeling. Around every corner, through every group of unfamiliar faces, down into the nether, up to the rooftops. He couldn't escape it.

So he found himself one night jimmying the lock on your window, expertly opening it from the fire escape. Ironic.

Still not home. The apartment was dark, empty, lonely. He fussed with knick-knacks, picked up photos you had sprinkled around and examined them, stole a couple snacks from your fridge and sat on your couch to enjoy them. Minutes turned into hours and he sat, waiting impatiently, cigarette after cigarette.

Midnight.

What was he doing? What would he even say? I don't want you, but I don't want anyone else to want you either? I'm not safe to care about, but don't care about anyone else? What if that guy came back with her?

His stomach turned.

Keys jingled outside the door, the scrape and click of the lock releasing. You were back.

He stood, brushing crumbs from his lap, and snuffed out his umpteenth cigarette. His heart was racing. His heart never raced, not for a very long time. What was wrong with him?

You swept into the apartment, dropped your keys into the bowl next to the door and flung your jacket onto the closest chair. You pulled the tie from your hair and shook it down, letting out a contented sigh. Home at last.

"Hot date tonight, huh?"

You jumped and flung the only thing in your hands at him: your hair tie. He chuckled, grin wide as you flipped the light switch and exposed him standing awkwardly in your living room.

"Are you fucking for real?"

You were mad. That was one of the many scenarios he's gone over in his head. It was also the one he was least sure how to handle.

"What the hell, Jo? What the actual hell is wrong with you? You tell me you don't want me, I was fun for a while but not what you want. Now you're, what, stalking me? What do you want from me?"

I don't know, he thought, I just can't stop.

"I don't know," he said quietly, grin falling, unsure what else to do but be honest. You stared at him for a minute, waiting for an elaboration that never came.

"Please figure it the fuck out. I can't keep doing this."

He sighed with you, exasperated with himself. What could he say? His heartbeat was roaring in his ears. He felt uncomfortably exposed. Vulnerability was not his thing.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he confessed. You stared at him again, incredulous.

"What do you think you're doing to me right now?"

He almost winced. "Yeah. Of course I am. That’s what I do."

You softened a little seeing him struggle. "You didn't until you pushed me away. In fact, you did the opposite."

"But I would have. One way or another you'd always get hurt."

You rolled your eyes. "So you claim. But in the months we were seeing each other it didn't happen until you made it happen. You manifested your own fear."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, head hung low, looking every part the scolded child. "I'm a dangerous man. You shouldn't trust me."

"Then why get involved with me in the first place?"

"It was a good time."

"Oh, we're back to that again? Just in it for the fun?"

He groaned, head falling back in frustration. "At first, yeah. Then... I couldn't stop thinking about you. I wanted to see you as much as possible."

"... okay?"

"I'm not somebody who should be seen visiting you. It was too dangerous."

"And you think I could get hurt," you finished with a heavy sigh. "Why not tell me this instead of cutting me on the way out?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. "I thought it would be a clean break. You'd hate me and I'd walk away free."

You pushed back the sting of the truth. "So what's changed?"

"Nothing. That's the problem. I still can't stop thinking about you. This is... new."

You swallowed against the flood in your chest. "I don't know what to tell you."

"I don't know what I want to hear."

"I don't either, Jo. This... I really cared about you. I was trying to move on. Why are you here? Now? What is it you want from me?"

He took a step toward you nervously, hands still in his pockets. "Honestly?"

"Yes! Of course!"

"Everything."

That one single word and the gravel and sincerity with which he said it caught you off guard. Your stomach flipped, butterflies erupting despite your efforts.

"What does that mean?" you almost whispered.

"I don't want you to get hurt. I also don't want to lose you. I don't know what to do."

"Protect me. Be honest with me."

"What if I cant?"

"Be honest with me?"

"Protect you. You don't understand what being close to me means."

"Okay, tell me then. Show me, teach me. I don't know, help me understand."

He took a few more steps until he was in front of you, looking down at you, a sad aura about him. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Then tell me. Do you not trust me?"

He stroked the back of his fingers across your cheekbone, brushed your hair behind your ears. You sighed softly, your heart thundering. "You’ve never given me a reason not to.”

"Then let me in," you pleaded. "The way I see it you have two options. Walk away from me right now and never come back, or tell me what I need to know and we can figure out a plan."

He smiled dolefully down at you, taking your chin in his fingers, not especially happy with either option. "I... can't walk away from you."

"Then you know what you have to do."

"It's late. You should rest."

"I don't have anywhere to be tomorrow."

"I can come back tomorrow..."

"How do I know you will? Tell me tonight. At least something?"

He hesitated but ultimately acquiesced, sitting with you on the couch for hours confessing his sins, laying all the ugly truth out for you to do with what you would. You listened quietly, trying not to show your shock and dismay at his story, until the two of you fell asleep tangled up together.

By the break of dawn his fate had changed. You were in it whether you understood what it was or not, and he struggled with a foreign, agonizing feeling of vulnerability and fear. But it was far less unbearable than watching you move on.

He didn't have to be alone anymore.

[issysh3ll]

So issy a couple months ago when Trump got elected as president I filed for an Australian visa. I’m not gonna go into all the details, but I got it. Do you have any suggestions or any tips for living in Australia like good places places to eat or things? I should avoid different culture stuff that I should know because I move there in March so I would like to know. But if not, I totally understand



It depends which part of Australia you’re going to really

If you sound American it’s likely that you will be considered rude even if you haven’t done anything wrong. Australians do not like American tourists. So make sure you’re being extra polite and friendly. Say please and thank you and smile

We don’t have a tipping culture like you do in America. Tips are not expected and workers are paid more than they are in America so they don’t have to rely on tips. Tax is included in prices.

Everyone you walk past is your friend. Always smile at the people passing you, say hi or good morning. We’re always friendly to strangers.

Australia has a very early morning and exercise based culture. Most people wake up early and go for a run or a walk or a swim. You’ll see so many people out and about in the early hours. Being active is a lot of people’s identity tbh.

Cafe culture is big too. Our coffee is famously the best. I’ve literally never witnessed anyone order a drink with creamer or syrup or pumpkin spice or whatever else. There are Starbucks in the eastern states but we don’t have that in WA and even in places that do have it most people prefer a little cafe instead.

We don’t have a lot of the stores you have in America. Most shops are only open 9-5 during the week and 11-5 on Sundays. The main grocery stores are Coles and Woolworths (Woolies), or IGA but that’s more expensive.

We do have a lot of slang that will take a while to get used to and we pronounce words differently. We use the metric system so you’ll need to adjust to that too

Also it’s summer here and there’s a hole in the ozone layer over our country. Wear sunscreen everyday. Not just on your face, you need it on any exposed skin. The UV gets above 12 regularly and you will burn not tan.

Most people don’t live in the main cities. We live in the suburbs around them. Everything is always 30 mins away. Doesn’t matter how far it actually is, if you ask it’s 30 mins.

We are a very multicultural country so most people are very accepting and used to other cultures and races. But we’re not perfect there are still racist people and just assholes. A lot of the racism in Australia is casual racism and it often goes unchecked. Especially in the older generations certain comments and opinions are really ingrained.

We have our own indigenous people and their culture is being integrated into everyday life more which is great. The main cities are often written as their common name and their indigenous name as well and some people will refer to them by both interchangeably. Most ceremonies and performances include a welcome to country to acknowledge the traditional owners of the land. You’re probably familiar with things like digeridoo and you’ve probably seen some indigenous art before because it’s very popular overseas.

While we are getting good at celebrating indigenous culture in our country, a lot of people struggle to celebrate the people behind that culture. It’s probably worth having a look into some Australian history to be aware of the issues in our society. There’s some good documentaries out there. Everyone in Australia is aware of at least some American history so it would be polite to be aware of ours

If you want to watch the news while you’re here please watch on the ABC channels. The other channels are rubbish.

[vamos-chilli]

is it hard being so correct and based all the time?

ok i’ve been sat on this ask for the past like 3 days bc i wanted to go further into what i was saying but also make it make sense a little more instead of one handed rage fueled typing while i was eating pastries .

bring back the photo from the original post so we can look at it again .

this was left on a video of a woman who was wearing cute outfits, like an expectation vs reality video where she starts wearing a cute outfit and ends up in a full chilli costume as a cute joke on how excited she was to attend a race and what she’d wear there .

and she’s stunning . she’s so beautiful . and that’s where we see a lot of misogyny come into play .

because no matter how many women we know in f1 spaces we always assume women can’t be there. there’s no way that this woman likes formula 1, she’s faking it . i’m a real fan she’s just giving into a fad . there has been so much misogyny surrounding women in motorsports with women in motorsporting communities having to jump through hoops and constantly prove themselves over and over again and instead of fighting up against that we’re joining in . we are going to women expressing their interest in our community and automatically assuming their interest isn’t genuine because she’s a woman .

we see ourselves as an exception to the rule . i’m not one of those fans. i’m not a fangirl though . i’m not a fake fan who thinks the drivers are hot . women who say the drivers are hot are just setting us all back . ugh women who watch dts just make us all look bad . this is internal misogyny . this is the ‘im not like other girls’ complex . we actively participate in the degradation of women in our own communities by separating themselves from their and expressing our superiority ina. way that pleases our male scrutineers. we become our male scrutineers imposing impossible standards onto the women around us because we are petrified of losing our validity in motorsport by standing with other women . instead of giving grace and love to the other women of the community we seek validation from those against our inclusion. and to achieve that we participate in their prejudice .

hayley baylee or whatever her name is - she’s not the problem . she gets paid to post promotion for the gp she gets paid to be there as an influencer . whatever your thoughts on that may be, it’s just what happens . she has to market to her fans who don’t know anything about f1, so she posts a silly little joke about trying to find out who’s hot . it’s understandable that this rubbed a lot of people the wrong way after the constant hurdles we find ourselves jumping over to validate our places in the f1 community but let’s be real, she has not set us back 20 years like people claim she has .

she made a silly little joke . as did the girl in the original tiktok i posted about . what we are learning is that women are not allowed the grace of surface level jokes . just a quick 30 second ha ha . because something minimal and surface level doesn’t prove to the world their deepest understand of racing mechanics and car specs. when a woman makes a silly little joke there’s no way if we know she even KNOWS the DRIVER she’s talking about . instead of saying ‘wow i didn’t know you were an f1 fan’ we assume the worst about them; she’s dumb she doesn’t know what she’s talking about she’s fake and doing it for attention .

now there is something to be said about large scale influencers being invited to races and events when they know nothing about the sport . and a lot of people say that these opportunities should go to f1 centred influencers .

they do . we would just rather tear down women than support the ones who succeed . from my own tiktok following i can list jo motorsportdiaries; who went on to interview george russell and attend several mercedes events . jamna jamnawanza whom i ADORE !!! she’s gone on to work with sebastian vettel and aston martin . madeleine white, whom has been invited to hold media day interviews for espn during vegas gp and has been invited to several ferrari events with lissie mackintosh . there will be so many more that i can’t remember or just haven’t seen yet

the problem is not women thinking the drivers are hot but actually our own refusal to realise how inconsequential that actually is . who cares if an influencers posted about the drivers being hot . maybe she came away from that weekend with a genuine interest in f1 and will go on to research and learn and become involved in the community . maybe she won’t and that will be the only thing we hear of her f1 ventures and everyone will move on to look at something else . instead of not caring we focus all our energy into proving Im Better Than You when we can be uplifting women in and building strong communities where we can break down the walls and stopping placing hurdles and let women live and have fun and learn at their own pace.

‘i apologise for doubting you’ that’s progres . apologise for holding that viewpoint in the first place . use this as an opportunity to reflect on why you automatically assume the worst of women who exist in the same spaces as you . grow from this experience to build positive bond with women in your community . the only thing setting us back is our desire to tear women down instead of lifting each other up . and yeah . carlos sainz is fucking hot .

[filthy-khajiit]

I would like to preface this fic a bit.

{ ☆ Butcher x Fem!Reader ☆ }

The character, kinda made to be like me, personality wise. I don't relate the the aggressive girls in fics. I'm a 30 year old mom, I cook, I clean and I take care of people, and I wanted the fic to reflect that. This is also my first ever The Boys fic. I used to write supernatural fan fiction way back in the day, and I haven't written anything fully in SUCH a long time.

This is all fluffy and what not, only a smidgen of action. Romantic themes, but no smut. Smut free. Was feeling down and I just needed the comfy stuff. Ya know? 💚

Also keep in mind, I was half alive writing and editing this, haven't slept in two days and I'm losing my mind as I'm trying to type this. So this shit has been so lazily and sleepily written because it was for cozy times. Feel me? Alright cool. Thanks 💚 ~ F. Khajiit

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

♧ Chapter 1: The Job Offer

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Y/N Y/L/N had always considered herself an ordinary woman. At thirty years old, she had settled into a quiet routine of solitude, her life marked by the steady cadence of uneventful days and peaceful nights. She worked a series of menial jobs, each as uninspiring as the last, but they paid the bills and kept her modest apartment in Queens running.

One chilly afternoon, Y/N came across a help-wanted ad that piqued her curiosity. It was vague, mentioning only the need for someone to keep a "base" clean. The address was in an obscure part of the city, one she wasn’t familiar with, but something about the anonymity of the ad intrigued her. With a shrug and a hopeful heart, she dialed the number listed and scheduled an interview for the next day.

When she arrived at the nondescript warehouse, she was greeted by a large, bald man with a stern expression. His name was Mother's Milk, though he insisted she just call him MM. He led her inside without much fanfare, explaining the job’s responsibilities in a matter-of-fact tone.

"You'll be cleaning up around here," MM said as they walked through the dimly lit hallways. "It's a bit of a mess most of the time, but we need someone who can handle it. Think you can manage?"

Y/N nodded, her eyes wide as she took in the cluttered surroundings. "I can manage," she said confidently.

◇ Chapter 2: Meeting the Team

Y/N’s first week on the job was a whirlwind of dusting, mopping, and organizing. She quickly realized that this was no ordinary cleaning gig. The base, as it turned out, belonged to a group called The Boys, and they were involved in something far more dangerous than she could have imagined.

Her initial encounters with the team were brief and formal. MM was the most approachable, often giving her a nod or a few words of encouragement. Frenchie, with his charming smile and thick accent, always had a kind word for her, though his frequent absences left her curious about his activities. Then there was Kimiko, silent but fierce, whose mere presence commanded respect.

And then there was William Butcher.

Y/N’s first impression of Butcher was a whirlwind of intensity. He stormed into the base one evening, his voice echoing through the halls as he barked orders and swore in his distinctive Cockney accent. At first, Y/N tried to keep her distance, intimidated by his aggressive demeanor. But as days turned into weeks, she found herself drawn to him in ways she couldn’t quite understand.

♡ Chapter 3: The First Encounter

One evening, Y/N was scrubbing the floor in the main room when Butcher walked in. She could feel his eyes on her, a prickling sensation that made her heart race. She glanced up to find him watching her intently.

"Oi, you missed a spot," he said gruffly, pointing to a corner she had yet to clean.

Y/N flushed, hastily moving to correct her oversight. "Sorry," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

Butcher smirked, a rare expression that softened his otherwise harsh features. "Don't worry about it, love. You're doin' fine."

His words, though casual, sent a thrill through her. She ducked her head, hiding her smile as she resumed her work. From that moment on, she kept herself looking forward to their brief interactions, cherishing the rare moments when Butcher’s gruff exterior seemed to crack, revealing glimpses of the man beneath.

♤ Chapter 4: Compassionate Care

As time went on, Y/N began to take on more responsibilities around the base. She noticed that the team often came back injured from their missions, and her natural inclination to help kicked in. She started tending to their wounds, offering a gentle touch and a reassuring smile.

One night, Butcher staggered in, blood seeping through his shirt from a nasty gash on his side. Y/N hurried to his side, her concern overriding her usual shyness.

"Let me help you," she said firmly, guiding him to a chair.

Butcher grumbled but didn’t resist as she carefully cleaned and bandaged the wound. Her hands were steady, her touch soothing, and for once, he allowed himself to relax under her care.

"You're too kind for this lot," he muttered, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it.

Y/N met his gaze, her y/e/c eyes filled with determination. "Someone has to be," she replied quietly.

《》 Chapter 5: Hallucinations and Heartbeats

Butcher’s nightmares were a well-kept secret, but Y/N had inadvertently stumbled upon them one late night. She found him in the kitchen, arguing with a man who wasn’t there.

"Joe, I told you to sod off!" Butcher growled, his eyes wild and unfocused.

Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. She had heard the others mention Butcher’s hallucinations in hushed tones, but seeing it firsthand was jarring.

"You can't keep ignoring me, Butcher," the apparition said, his voice dripping with condescension. Joe Kessler, the figment of Butcher’s fractured mind, was a tall, lean man with an eerie presence. He leaned against the counter, his eyes locked on Butcher. "You know I'm right. You're losing your edge."

"Shut up," Butcher spat, his hands clenching into fists. "You don't know a damn thing."

Kessler smirked, his gaze drifting over to where Y/N stood frozen in the doorway. "Ah, who's this then? Little miss housekeeper? She's a looker, ain't she? Bet she doesn’t know the real you."

Butcher’s eyes snapped to Y/N, a flicker of panic crossing his features. "Y/N, go back to bed," he ordered, his voice rough and desperate.

Y/N took a hesitant step forward, her concern for Butcher outweighing her fear. "Butcher, who are you talking to?"

Kessler laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "She can’t see me, Butcher. I'm just in your head, remember? But that doesn’t mean she isn’t real. Look at her, all soft and sweet. Bet she has no idea what she's gotten herself into."

"Shut up, Joe!" Butcher roared, slamming his fist on the counter. The noise echoed through the kitchen, making Y/N jump.

She took another step forward, her y/e/c eyes wide with concern. "Butcher, please, talk to me. What's going on?"

Butcher’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him. He looked at Y/N, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "It's nothin', just... go back to bed."

Kessler shook his head, his eyes gleaming with malicious amusement. "You think she’ll stay after she sees you like this? You're deluding yourself, Butcher."

Y/N hesitated, then reached out to touch Butcher’s arm. "If you ever need to talk, I'm here," she said softly, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.

Butcher stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes. Then he nodded, a curt gesture, and walked away, leaving Y/N standing alone in the dimly lit kitchen, her heart aching for the man she was beginning to understand.

☆ Chapter 6: Growing Closer

Despite Butcher’s abrasive exterior, Y/N found herself growing closer to him. She saw the way he softened around her, the way his tough facade cracked just a little when they were alone. She started to notice the small things: the way his heartbeat quickened when she was near, the way he lingered in the same room longer than necessary.

One evening, as they sat in the common room, Butcher glanced at her with an intensity that made her breath catch.

"Why are you still here?" he asked abruptly.

Y/N frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you stay? This place, this life... it's dangerous."

She shrugged, meeting his gaze. "I stay because I care about all of you. And because I want to help."

Butcher's expression softened, and for a moment, he looked vulnerable. "This ain't right fer someone like you, love."

Y/N smiled. "Maybe. But I'm here, and I like it, so I'm not leaving. Unless you fire me, I guess." She glanced away, feeling a bit self-conscious about her rambling.

¤ Chapter 7: The Kidnapping

It was a quiet evening at the base, the kind that Y/N had come to appreciate amidst the chaos that often surrounded The Boys. She was in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal, when Butcher walked in. He leaned against the doorway, watching her with a rare softness in his eyes.

"Smells good," he remarked, his Cockney accent adding a rough edge to the compliment.

Y/N smiled, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. "Thought you might be hungry," she said, her tone light. "Sit down, it'll be ready in a minute."

Butcher nodded and took a seat at the small table, his eyes never leaving her. There was a comfort in the routine, a sense of normalcy that was hard to come by in their line of work. But that peace was shattered when Homelander appeared.

He strode into the room with an air of casual arrogance, his presence instantly changing the atmosphere. Butcher stiffened, his jaw clenching as he stood up, positioning himself protectively between  Y/N and Homelander.

"What do you want, you bloody wanker?" Butcher snarled, his fists clenching at his sides.

Homelander ignored him at first, his attention seemingly on some trivial aspect of the kitchen. But then, he paused, tilting his head as if listening intently. His eyes flicked to Y/N, and a slow, predatory smile spread across his face.

"Well, this is interesting," Homelander drawled, his gaze shifting back to Butcher. "You know, Butcher, your heart is racing. And it only started when I looked at her."

Butcher’s expression darkened, and he took a step forward. "Leave her out of this, you psycho."

Homelander's smile widened. "Ah, but why would I do that? It's so rare to find something that gets under your skin. And this... this is fascinating."

Before anyone could react, Homelander moved. In the blink of an eye, he was standing next to Y/N, his hand gripping her arm tightly. She gasped, fear flashing in her y/e/c eyes as she looked to Butcher.

"Don't you dare hurt her," Butcher growled, his voice shaking with barely controlled rage.

Homelander chuckled, lifting Y/N slightly off the ground as if she weighed nothing. "Oh, I won't hurt her. Much. But I do think it’s time for a little field trip."

Y/N struggled, her heart pounding in her chest. "Butcher," she whimpered, her voice a desperate plea.

Butcher took a step forward, his eyes locked on Homelander. "Put her down. Now."

Homelander tilted his head, as if considering the request. Then he shook his head, a mocking glint in his eyes. "No, I think I'll take her with me. Just to see how far you're willing to go for her."

With that, Homelander shot up through the ceiling, taking Y/N with him. The last thing she saw was Butcher’s anguished face, a look of helpless fury etched into his features.

○ Chapter 8: Butcher’s Rage

Y/N was gone, something inside him snapped. He tore through the base, his heart a thunderous roar in his chest.

"That bloody bastard took her!" he shouted, his voice breaking with fury.

The team scrambled to form a plan, but Butcher was a man possessed. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function without the thought of Y/N driving him forward.

"We'll get her back," MM said firmly, gripping Butcher's shoulder. "We'll get her back."

□ Chapter 9: The Rescue

The rescue mission was a blur of violence and chaos. Butcher led the charge, his sole focus on finding Y/N. When he finally burst into the room where Homelander held her, he saw red.

Homelander laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "Ah, Butcher. I was wondering when you'd show up."

Butcher didn’t waste time with words. He attacked, a fury of fists and rage. The fight was brutal, but with the team’s help, they managed to drive Homelander away.

Y/N, bound and bruised, looked up as Butcher approached. Tears filled her eyes as he knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he untied her.

"Are you okay? Love?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion.

She nodded, collapsing into his arms. "I knew you'd come."

Butcher held her tightly, his heart pounding against her chest. "I'll always come for ya, Y/N. Always."

■ Chapter 10: A New Beginning

The aftermath of the rescue brought a new understanding between Y/N and Butcher. They didn’t need words to express what had grown between them. The bond forged in fire and blood was unbreakable.

Butcher’s hallucinations didn’t disappear, but Y/N’s presence brought him a measure of peace. She was his light in the darkness, and he would do anything to protect her.

One evening, they sat together in the dimly lit common room. Butcher’s fingers traced the delicate lines of Y/N’s hand, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man who so often embodied fury.

“Dunno how you put up wif all this madness, love,” Butcher murmured, his gray-green eyes searching hers. “Most people would’ve legged it by now.”

Y/N smiled, her green eyes meeting his. “I chose this, Butcher. I chose you.”

He snorted, a rough sound that was more affectionate than derisive. “Still, can’t figure out why. I’m a right bastard, and vis life... it ain’t exactly easy.”

She squeezed his hand, her expression unwavering. “Because I see you, the real you. And you’re worth it.”

Butcher stared at her for a long moment, his eyes a mix of confusion and somethin' deeper, somethin' that scared 'em more than he’d ever admit. “Never fought I'd see fe day I'd meet someone like you in fis 'ellhole.”

Y/N leaned closer, resting her head against his shoulder. “But here we are.”

He wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. “Here we are,” he echoed, his voice a low rumble. “Don’t think I’ll ever understand it, but I ain’t complainin’.”

They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of their experiences hanging between them. Butcher knew he wasn’t an easy man to love, but he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: hope.

“You ever need anyfin’, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “Anyfin at all, you come to me. Don’t matter what it is.”

She nodded, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I know, Butcher. I know.”

He kissed the top of her head, a rare gesture of tenderness. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go, not ever. You’re stuck wif me now, like it or not.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “I think I can handle that.”

[cinnabells]

BITTERSWEET TRADEGY

bratz and co

leilani choi |

‘05 liner. Moved to Korea three years ago, she is a small streamer, best friends with Bella and Kiyoko, is solely a BTS stan but likes Stray Kids and TXT as well, and spends most of her time in a relationship with video game characters. 

kiyoko sakamoto | 

‘05 liner. Gacha addict, dedicated her life to the delusion of seeing Enhypen in person. Theater kid, loves musicals, has watched High School Musical 20 times. 

isabella norwood | @tinkerbells | @bella_🔒

'06 liner, biggest Enhypen fan, has never been to any concert or event but has watched I-LAND like 30 times and has bought all of their albums. ride or die, and a major shopaholic.

lara raj |

‘05 liner. the trio's online bestie, the biggest Megan Thee Stallion fan to exist, a Degrassi enthusiast, once took a flight to Korea to comfort Bella after she broke up with her boyfriend. the finalist on Dream Academy.

ryan pham  |

04 liner. 3/3 Long distance bestie, is the mom of the group (not really)  will buy his children whatever they want, posts about kpop and how ridiculous the industry is like he’s getting paid.  

justin kim |   | @justin_kim | @jklvrs🔒

'04-liner. The funniest guy in the world is the problem child of the group, has no filter, occasionally listens to ENHYPEN but isn't a fan (he will become one), and has a YouTube channel where he acts really fruity but claims he’s straight.

prev | masterlist | next

ׂׂૢ SYPNOSIS;

The life of Leilani Choi was the textbook definition of chaotic; her dad was a military man who was always away for the better part of her childhood, and her mom was, well, she was present at least. Growing up in a mixed-race community should've made this little life a little simpler, yes? Dear mother was overbearing; Leilani just wanted to be normal and go do teenage stuff without her mother on her back all the time. Unfortunately, the people she hung out with were the wrong people, and she suffered the consequences. That's how she found herself in Korea, made a few bad choices, and thus she was forced to move back home, but moving to Korea wasn't all bad; she made new friends and even started a few hobbies, and fortunately one of those hobbies was becoming a fan of Enhypen, and that led her down the road of their maknae, Nishimura Riki, and that became a whirlwind of unexpected paths. The moral of the story is... don't fall in love with a K-pop idol.

ׂׂૢ TAGLIST: @rikidaze @roarr-ki @momoch1s

(comment or dm to be added!!)

[pjo-tvs-version]

I have written yet another fanfic! This one is from @helpallthenamesaretakensblog's prompt which I absolutely loved. Sorry though I am late in writing this but I hope you enjoy. It is about Sally's reaction to Percy and Annabeth dating so I hope I did Sally justice. Set after The Last Olympian. Song title from Lover by Taylor Swift

I've loved you three summers now, honey

“How are you planning to tell your mom that we are you know…” Annabeth asked. It was the last day of camp and Percy was thrilled to be returning home alive after surviving his sixteenth birthday. He would be seeing his mom and Paul. Percy and Annabeth were busy packing. Actually Annabeth was busy helping Percy pack his stuff as she had already done her’s last night. At her question, Percy blushed. He himself couldn’t fully comprehend the fact that they were together,dating. “We’ll figure it out somehow.” Percy replied. “Alright then I’m going off to say goodbye to Malcolm. Chiron said that the taxi will be here at 11:30. Meet you on Half Blood hill in 15 minutes.” Annabeth said. Percy gave her a thumbs up as she left Cabin3.

They reached Half Blood hill and watched the buses and vans pull away, taking most of the campers back to the real world. “Race you to the road” Percy said. "You are so going to lose." She took off down Half-Blood Hill and he sprinted after her. Once in the taxi, Percy said “What do you think Mom would say about us?” “I’m sure she’ll just be glad to see you alive after your sixteenth birthday.” Annabeth replied.

The rest of the ride was silent as Annabeth was engrossed in reading “A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder'' while Percy snored away. He was always sleepy ever since he got the Achilles Curse. Neverthless as Annabeth finished the book, she spent the remaining portion of the journey, studying Percy’s peaceful expression. He really did look angelic as he slept even as the drool started to drip.

“Hey! Wake Up! We’re almost there” Annabeth said as she shook Percy awake. “Wha-What-” he asked, dazed from his nap. “I said that we’ve almost reached” Annabeth answered excitedly. As the car swevered up to the Jackson apartment, there was a grin on Percy’s face. They could see Sally standing outside, a smile adorning her face. As soon as they paid the driver they rushed towards her.

“Hey Mom! It’s so great to see you and be back home for a while. Wait a second, is that the smell of blue cookies?” Percy asked as he pulled away from Sally’s embrace. The upturn of her lips answered his question because he was already zooming through the door to the kitchen. “It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Jackson” Annabeth said before she too was engulfed by Sally. Her maternal gesture made Annabeth feel warm and cozy, like a wooly cardigan on a winter morning. “Just call me Sally” she said and added “It’s nice to have you here dear. Come in.”

There was a look on Sally’s face which Annabeth noticed. She was studying Annabeth and at that time it felt like she could literally see through her. There was a different kind of sparkle in her eyes. Maybe because Percy survived? Annabeth didn’t really know so she stepped into the kitchen to join Percy who was busy analysing the blue treasure in the oven. 

“So how was the past few days for the two of you?” Sally asked as Percy and Annabeth sat on the table, stuffing Sally’s delicious seven layer dip and blue cookies. “Annabeth is the official architect of Olympus!” Percy remarked with enthusiasm. “Says the saviour of Olympus” Annabeth retorted. “Hey I specifically requested to not be addressed by that title.” Percy whined.

That gave way to a few laughs followed by silence. There was something in the air. Like questions whose answers werent told yet. Sally had an amused expression on her face. Percy’s hand was around Annabeth’s waist and there was some sort of closeness between them which contradicted their attitude towards each other last summer.

Sally seemed to have noticed this because there was something between a question and an understanding in her eyes. She looked like she was waiting for something. Annabeth nudged Percy’s toe underneath the table.

“Um mom yeah so um….” he stuttered and broke off. There was a hint of a smile adorning Sally’s face. Annabeth could feel her cheeks turning red as Percy spoke. She gave him a reassuring nod and squeezed his hands which were getting sweaty. “So mom I-I had to to t-t-tell you about um us” he said glancing at Annabeth who was getting more nervous by each word.

Then he took a deep breath. Why was it so difficult to say it out loud to his mother? “MomAnnabethandIaredating” he said in one breath. Sally smiled as though she had foreseen this happening a long time ago. “That’s amazing sweetie.” Sally said and laughed looking at both of them. Annabeth let out a long breath she didn’t know she was holding and Percy’s facial features relaxed. 

“So you are okay Mrs. Jack- Sally with us being together?” Annabeth asked because she needed that confirmation. “Ofcourse dear and you know somewhere sometime I knew that this dense boy would realise that he really did like you in a more than friends way. Gods I knew it from the way he talked about you day in and night…” “MOM why? You don’t need to tell her that” Percy interrupted and he blushed more if that was even possible. 

Annabeth giggled at that. “Hey you didn’t tell me you liked me since then” she managed to say between laughing. “Oh honey you have no idea! And even meticulously planned your date to the movies.”Sally added, chuckling. “Mom it was NOT a date I swear and please I thought you were on my side.” Percy looked like he had given up any hopes of escaping the situation he was in right now.

“No but seriously. I am really happy for both and you both deserve a little break from the Greek apocalypse thing so do you both have any plans about how you both plan to spend the summer?” Annabeth’s eyes lit up at that remark.”I got permission to stay in New York from my parents to look over the building efforts up on Olympus so…” she grinned. “Yeah I plan to show her around New York” Percy added sheepishly. “I am so glad that you both are happy now. Also Annabeth honey feel free to drop in here anytime you like.”

“Thank you so much Sally!” Annabeth replied excitedly. The rest of the day was spent together, binge watching Finding Nemo and of plans they had for this summer. 

Hoped you liked reading this one shot! Sorry for any grammatical errors or if anyone seems out of character. Positive criticism is always appreciated.

You can read it one AO3 here.