#I COULD TALK ABOUT ROBOTS FOR DAYS

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 24 thoughts:

. . . fucking . . . fuck. Just . . . fuck. Fucking fucky fucking FUCK, THAT WAS SO BADASS!!!!!

ALL OF IT HOLY SHIT I DON'T CARE, JUST PICK ANY MOMENT!! EVERYTHING EVERYONE DID WAS BADASS!

LIKE. FUCK. COLIN GOT TO LOOK BADASS.

He even got "yelling in caps" badass. Just for the one scene when he picked up Chevy. He did one fucking thing right, which was help someone up and then let THEM be cool.

And speaking of . . . HOLY FUCKING SHIT CHEVY! YOU DIDN'T GET KILLED BY TIME TRAVEL CHAD!

WHICH MEANS I DON'T HATE YOU ANYMORE!

WHICH MEANS I CAN SHOUT ABOUT HOW BADASS THAT WAS!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuck waiting for my interlude section to talk about this. That final scene with Behemoth was one of the most visually badass things I have ever read in my life! Fuck. I get fucking chills just thinking about it.

I can see that entire last fight in my head very clearly, almost like remembering an anime scene. Perfectly written.

And Regent! Look at you go, that's character growth!

I mean sure, you died. But growth!

Besides, you dying legit made Imp cooler. She was already great but "I'm going to fucking kill his dad for him" is even better! And Wanton's apparently got jokes so we still have a funny guy.

Basically if someone had to die I'm happy it was you. Sorry not sorry.

ALSO FOIL WHAT THE FUCK YOUR POWER COULD ALWAYS DO THAT AND YOU'VE JUST BEEN SITTING THERE SHOOTING THINGS?

I . . . I just . . . girl! How?? You could literally have turned a piece of rebar into a sword that Alexandria could have cut Leviathan in half with! And that's just what I thought of in the first few seconds after seeing this! Spend some time actually thinking about what you can do lady!

But luckily my daughter is here to do the thinking, and be FUCKING AMAZING AT IT!!!

LIKE HOLY SHIT TAYLOR, YOU CUT OFF BEHEMOTH'S LEG!

AND THAT PLAN HOLY SHIT! YOU MADE A PLAN THAT SET RACHEL UP TO BE THE BADASS HERO WHO CUTS OFF BEHEMOTH'S LEG, AND SETUP REALLY POWERFUL HEROES AS HER SUPPORT!

Fuck half of Eidolon's fucking job was "Catch my girlfriend and fly her back to me."

GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER WOLFSPIDER!!!!!!

And the snuggling at the end, as they were leaving!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my god and the lightning rod! That was insane!

Golem just has really cool powers. Glad Theo is doing ok.

And Alexandria's power preserves the body so Pretender can just puppet her. That's wild. Kinda annoying, my daughter just killed her!

And and and Taylor talked with Contessa!

AND CONTESSA SHARED HER POWER!!!

I was pretty close, didn't have it that specific, but basically was expecting something similar. Fuuuuck it's so cool!

Also the underground cities and the secret capes were wild. Kinda unfortunate that you guys set things up for Behemoth to be able to collapse the entire city, gave him lots of existing tunnels and such to work with.

My daughter could have done a little less bonding with Phir Sē. Ideally. Would have made me feel a little better.

But holy shit a time portal bomb made of looped light?? GOD DAMN. That sure hit like a truck. Just not a big enough truck.

Also Grace and Cuff are dating. I don't make the rules I just enforce them.

And the rules are "make it gay"

God and the whole "thinkers stuck on a roof" bit. Christ that was planned badly. They almost died because nobody had some rope. Embarrassing.

I'm glad Tattletale is doing ok. She got her girlfriend to steal a dudes phone for her, which was pretty funny. And I loved how she still got to do her big reveal to Chevy, she needs that.

HOLY SHIT AND TAYLOR TELLING RACHEL HOW TO TAKE CARE OF IMP?? SHE UNDERSTANDS HER GIRLFRIEND. GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAAAAAAYYY!

And fuckin Tecton just trying so hard to do the same thing with Rachel first and just failing so completely. And then trying again. And again. Bless his big himbo heart he's trying.

Fuck there's so much, I'm sure I'm missing a dozen other things. Every chapter had 20 moments I could mention.

Seriously though, sucks for New Delhi. "There’s nothing left to protect here" is a heck of a line and it is not what anyone wants to hear.

Chevy interlude (the rest of it) thoughts:

Holy shit Chevy's shadows! I wish he had described more of them, I wanted to know everyone's image! Just so much data there.

Fun to see the early Wards. Fun to see that Colin was always like that.

Hero's death was absolutely a targeted hit, he started asking too many questions, pushing back on things.

Chevy's whole power is just really fascinating. Really interesting to think about.

RIP Mouse Protector

Also the fact that her shadow was her laughing makes me think she might have lost the ability to be sad when she triggered, which is unfortunate if true. I mean Bonesaw got you either way so I guess it doesn't matter now.

Loved getting a wonderful list of Endbringer attacks. Sure it still wasn't all of them, but up through Simmy showing up is still pretty great.

Extremely curious about Mr. Keene, keeping an eye out for more info on him.

Tattletale just needed this poor man to read her texts and let her do her fucking THING! It's all she wants.

Anyway ya turns out powers (except Scion of course) can't touch the actual core of the Endbringers and I'm like 95% sure I have a good idea as to why it works like that, but still got a little bit of that uncertainty.

Endbringers are directly related to Eidolon in some way, I am pretty sure of that. Created by him. Previous bodies. Sentient poop for all I know! They're connected though.

HOLY SHIT WHEN HE SEES TAYLOR'S SHADOW DURING THE FINAL FIGHT!!!!! AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!! SHE LOOKED SO BADASS!!!!

Aftermath interlude thoughts:

Pretender and Satyr are so gay. That one's easy I don't even gotta try.

Everyone just starting to freak out about how things are gonna escalate instead of just celebrating the win is really unfortunate.

I mean, they aren't wrong. Another Endbringer is gonna come. But it would be nice if they could live in happy ignorance for a few days.

I'm guessing it'll either be two Endbringers that always attack at the same time or one Endbringer that uses teleportation to swap to a different city after a certain period of time. In either case basically fucking up the organized response ability.

Already mentioned this, but Rachel and Taylor fell asleep on each other!!!! GGGGAAAAAAAYYYYYYY!!!

If Dragon comes back wrong I'm putting all of the blame on Colin.

Fucking Danny just fucked that phone call up so bad. This man can not get it fucking right. FUCK.

GLENN YOU FUCKING FUCK I DON'T CARE WHAT YOUR REASONS ARE YOU DON'T PUT SOMEONES PRIVATE VIDEO THEY TOOK FOR THERAPY ON THE INTERNET!!

AND YOU NEVER EVEN FUCKING SAID "SORRY"!!!!! YOU EXPLAINED YOUR ACTIONS AND WHY YOU HAD TO DO IT EVEN THOUGH IT WOULD HURT HER AND YOU COULDN'T ASK HER CAUSE SHE WOULD HAVE SAID NO BUT YOU NEVER EVEN SAID SORRY!!!

Like for real. Taylor says "You could have asked" and you respond with "You would have said no." Fuck at least just say sorry!

[mychlapci]

Members of the lost light you most desire to be pregnant versus most likely to be impregnated by their own choosing?

as a transformers pregnancy truther i will gladly take any pregnant bot no matter who, that being said, number one choice is Megatron. he needs to be pregnant. i cant even begin because i would never stop. then obviously i want dratchet babies, because ratchet needs to fulfill his destiny and become a milf. then a knocked up cyclonus, with a doting tailgate always behind him. i would do crazy shit to getaway's uterus tbh. i think it could pacify him. i could fix him by getting him pregnant. i dont necessarily need rung to get pregnant but i 100% think he'd be good at impregnating someone. he's got that potent dad nut. you know it works. rodimus getting pregnant would be a bad idea but i'm into it cause he's got that shirt too small for baby bump energy. and that gets me going

i wanted to say that no one on the lost light is getting pregnant out of their own choosing but there is one person. Brainstorm probably inseminates himself for an experiment at least three times. but all the other babies? accidents. mishaps. slipped and fell on someone's dick kinda problems. very common occurance on the lost light.

[gible-love-nibles-archive]

OH

In the midst of today I nearly forgot

Happy anniversary shithead (affectionate)

(Please reblog! I like reading tags :])

Taglist: @crickiss @heart-of-aspiration @halsdaisy @potionomic @homosexual-fast-dancer @jocelynships @imaginemyshipswithme @keyblade-ships @wooboomoomoo @seahydra [If you want to added or removed, tell me in a comment or tag!]

[countdown-til-sanders-take-over]

this is a formal apology for every time i've read ur fnaf theories, gone "ah... of course! yes!" and then forgotten to respond

This is a formal apology for every time I've read one of your asks, not immediately had a TQ&/E, and forgotten to respond

[sevicia]

I keep seeing ppl say stuff like "Oh but AI art will create more jobs!" and I just do not think that's like, relevant? to the discussion at all? Cause what jobs is AI art gonna generate for, yknow, artists? It's not even a rethorical question I'm really just coming up empty. Any person who has pursued (or even just considered) art as a career has heard that they're just gonna starve, that it's not a "real job", that they need to give up on it, and the way AI art is being treated by corporations seems to be putting a lot of weight into those statements. Yes, AI art is practically soulless and will never fully replace human-made art, but it's pretty obvious that no organization that's used AI instead of actually paying an artist gives a single shit about THAT.

[jewishbarbies]

lit agents telling authors how to write for publication:

[toribookworm22]

Happy Worldbuilding Wednesday (and thanks for reminding me about it, lol) What would you say is the most original, most unique aspect of the world you’ve created?

Hey, Minnie!! Thanks for the ask, love!

Ooooh. This is a fun one.

The one that comes to mind-- and that I'm also super proud of-- is automatons and how they function in The Animatronic Saga.

It started off very dry and as a barely there concept; I just wanted to combine technology and humanity into singular beings. And then I started questioning myself and the world I was creating. I started actually considering the science behind their creation.

Automatons are human beings that have been integrated with adaptive programming that changes how they survive.

It makes them stronger and, yet in the wrong hands, very dangerous.

Automatons are-- quite literally-- the backbone of The Animatronic Saga. And I'm incredibly proud of every new fact I unearth about them, their creation, and their function.

[snekdood]

ppl used to try to make fun of me for using zoo tycoon as a reference for animal shit and idk man like.... the game is literally built off the idea of educating you, it literally has an encyclopedia that tells you not only about the animals but also about the plants too. yeah its a tycoon game but thats only if you focus on it in that sense, personally i dont, I've always liked playing it to learn more about the behaviors of animals. sure things are generalized here and there and not 100% accurate- partially bc it was made in the early 2000's and we've probably acquired more info since then, but regardless its still pretty solid and taught me a lot about certain animals growing up, which other tycoon games dont really offer... anything teach-worthy.

[zackcharine]

One thing i think about a lot is how Lisa's reaction to no longer being possessed is fucking sprint out of the room and instantly light a cigarette hdgdgsh

[monstersholygrail]

In a Free Use City, your knowledge on the subject of your job isn’t always what’s most important. And in your case, it’s the least important. You were actually known as quite a ditz in the Free Use City Offices.

You worked in the tech department surrounded by a bunch of hot and nerdy guys who spoke in yours you couldn’t even begin to understand. You were just happy to be there and they were happy to ogle you and press against you whenever you asked for their help with any simple task.

They thought they had the upper hand on you, thinking they were so clever. But you had them all on a leash. An entire department at your disposal to give you pleasure whenever you wanted.

Your favorite man to bother was IT Robot. He got his work done fast and spent the rest of the day goofing off. The easy air around him made him approachable and the way all his shirts fit snugly against his bulging pecs made you drip with need.

You can’t help but spare him another glance before hesitantly returning your gaze to your own computer, the screen filled with the program you still haven’t figured out. Great, now you were confused and horny.

“Need me for something?” IT Robot’s voice suddenly purrs into your ears. His steel-like grip grabbing onto your plush hips and pulling you back into his hard chest.

His body molds to yours so perfectly it has you tingling all over. Arousal gushing and soaking through your panties. He turns you on so bad even when he barely did anything but it was like your body was out of control. As if it could be programmed just for him when he was the robot.

“Help… I hurt,” you say with a pout, your mind turning to complete mush whenever you’re around him.

IT Robot flashes you with that charming lopsided smile of his, heavily amused by the puddle you melt into whenever he talks to you.

“Where does it hurt, huh? It hurt here?”

He caresses your soft belly with an appreciation that borders on worship before one hand slips beneath your skirt, nuzzling his fingers between your soaked folds.

“Or here?” He asks while the other gives a little pat on your head.

A low whine escapes your lips as he rolls his fingers over your clit, your hips jerking into the touch. And that’s all it takes to have IT Robot plunging three of his fingers deep into your cunt, making you gasp and tremble in his arms.

“That’s what I thought… Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll fix the issue right away. It’s what I do after all.”

Your vision blurs as you dive into the pleasure head first. Choking out harsh moans as IT Robot’s fingers move inside you with precision like he has an entire map of your pretty pussy printed in his head. His fingers move in a blur as they pump themselves inside you, hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars. Each curl of his fingers sends your pussy fluttering and clenching down around him.

“Squeeze me tight, honey, ngh c’mon! Don’t think about a thing, just focus on being my pretty baby. My good girl.”

His words send the last thoughts in your head flying out the window, reducing you to nothing but his perfect little fuck toy. Your body relaxes without having to worry about a thing, allowing the ecstasy to overwhelm you.

IT Robot chuckles again as that fucked out expression fills your features. He flattens his palm so that it rubs hard against your clit with every snap of his fingers. With a few quick movements it has you falling over the edge and exploding all over his hand. Your vision flashes white as your orgasm rolls through you and you can’t find the strength to move any of your limbs after.

But that’s alright, IT Robot will take care of you, his fingers slipping out of your pulsing cunt with a pop, and giving your temple a soft kiss. He doesn’t bother cleaning up his hand dripping with your cum as he starts typing on your computer, solving the issue with the program you were using, and successfully helping you with both your aches.

“There, there. I’ve got you, pretty. Just keep feelin’ good. All because of me,” he whispers in your ear. Planning to spend the rest of the day doing all your work for you.

[monstersflashlight]

Magic dick

A/N: It's been a while since I posted something non-request or commissioned, so here. Also, what’s more romantic than a glory hole?

Non-identified monster x fem!reader || glory hole, free use (kinda?), oral sex, dirty talk

Ending Valentine’s Day on a monster club isn’t what you were expecting, but definitely welcomed. The dance floor is great, and you talked and almost humped a couple monsters. You are keyed up and ready to ask one of them to bring you home for the night, but when your friend asks for a bathroom break, you follow her.

That’s when you see it.

There’s a door at the back, a black door with only one sign in the front that says “Let a magic dick decide your destiny”. You turn to your friend with a smile, she’s already shaking her head.

“No,” she cuts your overexcited self. "Let's go, come on," your friend says, pulling you away from the door. But you dig your heels on the floor.

"Dude, come on! It says Let a magic dick decide your destiny. We need to try it!" You know it’s very unlikely she would say yes, but you want to. You want to end your Valentine’s on a high note, and what a better note than a monster dick.

"I don't wanna try a magic dick," she says, almost exasperated.

You look at her, clasping your hands and begging her: "But I do! Come on, pleaseee!" You try to sound as annoying as possible.

"Ugh, okay, I'll wait here. Go in, have fun, if you aren't out in 30 min I'm coming in, though." She rests her back against the wall and takes her phone out, dismissing your very happy-self.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," you say as you kiss her cheek loudly and open the door.

Your excitement and anticipation can’t barely keep up with the instant joy that fills your insides. You don’t have time to process why do you feel like that, though.

At the other side there’s a colorful wall with all kinds of genitals painted in pastel colors: human, monster, alien, robot… There’s so many and in so many shapes and colors that it looks almost cozy, like something you could see in a Monstagram post or something. But you don’t focus on that for very long, because in the middle of all of that, there are three holes… and one of them is occupied.

It’s in a pretty combination of purple and green, and it has ridges under the tip, forming almost a crown that looks like it could drive you into oblivion if they rubbed against your G-spot. You lick your lips, your mouth salivating at the idea of tasting him. You don’t know what kind of monster he is, but you can almost picture him with his head thrown back and maybe… maybe horns. Yeah, you’d like if he had horns.

You approach slowly, measuring your steps so he’s at least surprised when you touch him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He starts cursing as soon as you wrap your hands around his shaft.

You aren’t expecting such strong reaction, but it ignites something inside of you that drives you a bit insane with desire. You always preferred partners that were vocal, and the monster on the other side of the wall definitely is.

He’s so big, bigger than any dick you’ve ever seen before, and it’s making you all kinds of hot and bothered. “Hi there, I hope you don’t mind if I help myself here,” you tell the monster, not expecting him to say anything else, but being surprised when he does.

“Are you... who are you?” He sounds choked out, almost as if he’s holding back already and you have only touched him.

“A human,” you simply say, amusement clear in your voice. You don’t know much about glory hole etiquette, but asking for somebody’s identity is probably not it.

He takes a deep breath, sniffing the air audibly. “You smell… Fuck, you smell so good.” He groans, as if your smell is good enough to give him pleasure. His dick twitches in your hand, and well… Maybe your arousal is clear to him? You aren’t sure, but you don’t really mind it, you want to suck his cock and get out of there.

You chuckle, not the first time somebody said that to you tonight. “You can smell me from there?” You ask back, spitting on his dick and using it as lube as he whimpers pitifully.

“Yes. Fuck, yes.” You go faster, your hands working in tandem over his shaft as he bulks against the thin wall.

The sounds he’s making are desperate, and you can feel your pussy tingling as you fall to your knees in front of the hole. You think about saying something, but you end up just leaning forward and taking his tip on your mouth, your tongue softly touching the ridges at the crown until he’s begging you to take him deeper, to move faster, until he’s crying so loud you are sure even the people on the dance floor can hear him. But you don’t even care about it.

You only care about the dick in your mouth and the pathetic sounds he’s making, bulking against the wall as if he’s trying to get as far as possible down your throat. But he can’t. You have all the power, and that excites you. That drives your desire higher and higher until you are drenched and your clit is mirroring the pulses of your heartbeat.

“You are great. Fuck. You are doing perfect. You are perfect. Such a pretty mouth, such good tongue over my shaft. Holy fuck…” He’s chanting all kinds of nonsense, but you don’t answer, too busy swallowing around the shaft in your mouth. You hum a response, making the monster groan very loudly. “Goddess, darling, that feels so good…” His voice breaks in another groan, one that makes your insides twitch and your free hand travels down.

You rub your clit over your panties, thanking the universe for wearing the cute little dress that allows you to touch yourself easily. “Are you touching yourself? Fuck, that’s so hot! Get yourself there, darling, please.” You don’t even question how he knows, but knowing he’s aware of your hand in your panties makes you swallow around him, groaning around his shaft. “Finger that pretty pussy for me. Make yourself come with my dick in your mouth.” His words are exhilarating, you’ve never been with somebody who didn’t make dirty talk sound corny, but good damn it if he isn’t helping you out with that dirty mouth.

You do as he says, rubbing your clit at the same time you jerk him off, your mouth too little to take all of him, not even half. He doesn’t seem to care, cursing and screaming for the Goddess as you drive him crazy with your mouth and hand. You push two fingers inside your welcoming pussy, rubbing the heel of your hand against your clit.

The combined sensation between your hand and the cock in your mouth is enough to make your eyes roll back into your head, the symphony of your mixed moans ascending you to heaven. Your back and knees hurt, but you don’t care, you can’t care. You are so close. So, so close…

“I’m… I’m coming. Goddess, fuck. Holy fuck. Come with me, darling, please, let me smell your orgasm…” His words mean nothing, but they are enough to drive you over the edge.

You clench around your fingers at the same time he screams and your throat is filled with his seed. He tastes sweet, almost like pie (the joke in there isn’t missed). You hum around his shaft until he’s begging and crying out, pulling back as you smile and run your tongue over your lips, catching the last drops of his release. You lick your own fingers as you get up, humming happily and sated.

“Wait there,” he grunts across the wall, the dick disappearing completely as you wipe your mouth and get your dress down.

You chuckle, walking to the door and opening to find your friend looking over your shoulder. You turn around just in time to see a very big, very scary purple and green monster barreling down the hallway, dick still wet and hanging out his open pants.

Turns out the magic dick could predict who would be your soulmate, and nobody was expecting for you to be the mate of the dick in question… Not even him.

[hoshifighting]

idk if someone asked you this but i’m a new reader and I REALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR WORKS!!!

can you please make wonwoo, the nerdy president who u thought was innocent and sweet but he’s the one behind ur fave nsfw audio creator???? AND HE’S A HARDFUCKER.. not what u expected tho..

i don’t know if i make sense but please pretty please 😭☝️

Synopsis: where you discover that the nerdy class president is the one man who creates the most nasty NSFW audios that you spend long nights listening to. WC: 2.8k WARNINGS: smut, audio porn, masturbation, hard fuck, dirty talk (obviously), bad sleeping habits (because of wonwoo), fingering, spanking, dirty talk, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, wonwoo whining, a lil invasion of privacy.

you’ve been running on fumes all day, the hazy buzz of sleep deprivation clinging to your brain like static. it’s no surprise, really. your night had gone the way it always does: you got home, flopped into your chair, threw on your headphones, and let onyx_lens—your favorite nsfw asmr creator—drag you under with that stupidly deep voice of his.

it was kind of pathetic, actually. you barely remember what the script was about—something about obedience or whatever—but you do remember the sound of his voice sinking into your brain like warm honey, making you cum so hard that you blacked the fuck out right after. now here you were, bleary-eyed and trying to stay upright in literature class, the regret of last night’s poor choices catching up with you.

wonwoo, the class president who was somehow both effortlessly chill and annoyingly observant, had been glancing at you every few minutes. you could feel his eyes on you as your head dipped forward for the third time, only to snap back up like a busted bobblehead.

but, in true wonwoo fashion, he didn’t say anything. no scolding, no judgmental sighs—just quiet observation.

when class finally ended, you were ready to yeet yourself into a nap for a solid 72 hours. you were shoving your stuff into your bag when wonwoo’s voice cut through the noise.

“you good?”

you froze. his voice wasn’t the same as onyx_lens’s, obviously, but it had that same deep, smooth timbre that made your brain short-circuit for a second. it didn’t help that his question sounded so much like something out of an nsfw script. you turned to face him, hoping your face wasn’t giving away how flustered you suddenly were. “uh—yeah,” you said, shaking your head a little too quickly. “just tired.”

wonwoo raised an eyebrow. “not sleeping well?”

your brain screamed. your tired, half-horny brain screamed louder. the overlap of his voice and onyx_lens in your head was un-fucking-bearable. you managed to nod, muttering something about late nights and deadlines, hoping he wouldn’t pry.

he didn’t, but his next question wasn’t much better.

“think you could help me with the sci-fi project? your last lit analysis was good, and i could use the extra pair of hands.”

you blinked at him. “me?”

he nodded, adjusting his glasses. “you. unless you’re too busy with...whatever’s keeping you up.”

oh, you mean my nightly sessions with onyx_lens and my vibrator?

you swallowed hard and tried to play it cool. “nah, i can help.”

and that’s how you found yourself standing outside wonwoo’s apartment later that evening, clutching your bag. his place was exactly what you’d expect from him—minimalist, neat, and smelling faintly of coffee.

“come in,” he said, holding the door open for you. “make yourself comfortable.”

easier said than done. you perched awkwardly on his couch as he set up his laptop on the coffee table, your eyes darting around the room in an attempt to ignore how nice his voice sounded in person.

“so,” he began, sitting across from you, “any ideas for the project?”

you cleared your throat, trying to focus. “uh, maybe something about robots and humanity? like, exploring ethical dilemmas or something.”

wonwoo nodded thoughtfully, his gaze fixed on you in a way that made your skin heat. “good idea. we could tie that into the main themes from class.”

he leaned forward slightly, scrolling through a document on his laptop, and you couldn’t help but notice how his glasses slipped down his nose. you were so not prepared for this level of proximity or his stupidly deep voice.

“you okay?” he asked again, glancing at you.

you blinked, realizing you’d been staring. “yeah, just...thinking.”

his lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “good. let me know if you need a break or...anything.”

the way he said anything sent a shiver down your spine. you weren’t sure if it was exhaustion, residual arousal from last night, or the sheer presence of wonwoo in his element, but your brain was a mess.

you were supposed to be helping him with this project, but all you could think about was the way his voice would sound whispering in your ear, saying things that would make onyx_lens blush.

you were so close to winning the “most pathetic college student of the year” award it wasn’t even funny. after much back-and-forth with wonwoo, class president of your downfall, you somehow convinced him to let you walk home alone. except the man still went all soft and paid for a taxi anyway, which, like… thanks? but also stop being so nice, what the hell.

it was nearing 11 p.m. when you got home, and as if on cue, your phone pinged with a notification: onyx_lens’s weekly live is starting.

you stared at it for a second, blinking in disbelief. today’s theme? "neon circuits and orgasm denial (a cyberpunk experience) 8d audio"

sci-fi-themed. of fucking course.

you almost laughed at the audacity of the universe for this one. was this some sort of cosmic joke? was wonwoo onyx_lens?! no way. no goddamn way. you shook off the thought as delulu nonsense and dragged yourself to the bathroom for a quick sponge bath.

by the time you flopped into your chair, headphones on, the live was already in full swing. that voice—that stupidly deep, velvety voice—flooded your ears as the chat buzzed with unhinged comments. onyx purred, and you were done for.

you couldn’t even focus on the sci-fi plot he was spinning, something about rogue androids, monster cock, neon vibrators and human experimentation. his voice wrapped around you like a silk chokehold, and you were gone—just a vibrating mess in your chair, coming undone embarrassingly fast.

fast forward to the next morning: you woke up feeling like a used dishrag. again. headphones still on, your phone dead, and the memory of last night’s live replaying in your brain like a broken record.

by the time you dragged yourself to class, you were running on fumes and vibes. your hoodie was scrunched up around your face, making you look like a cross between a gremlin and an overgrown baby.

wonwoo noticed. you could feel his eyes boring into you as you tried—and failed—to stay upright. you were so close to just giving in and laying flat on the floor. honestly, it might’ve been comfier than your chair at that point.

wonwoo, sitting two rows away, looked like he was internally debating whether to intervene or let you rot in peace. when the bell rang, you startled awake like you’d been electrocuted, nearly knocking your stuff off your desk in the process.

“you okay?” he asked, falling into step beside you as you shuffled out of the classroom like a zombie.

“i’m fine,” you mumbled, voice muffled by your hoodie. “just need food. like, now.”

you detoured to the convenience store on the way to his apartment, snagging an entire kimbap roll and tearing into it like a starving animal. wonwoo followed behind, holding your water bottle with a look that was equal parts judgment and amusement.

“you couldn’t wait?” he asked, watching as you ate half the roll in one bite.

“bro,” you said around a mouthful of rice, “if i didn’t eat this, i was gonna pass out on the cold asphalt. your problem now, mr. class president.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t argue, just handed you your water like the reluctant babysitter he was.

this was going to be a long afternoon.

you couldn’t help yourself. the suspicion had been eating away at you for weeks now, ever since you first heard his voice in class and that nagging sense of déjà vu set in. wonwoo had escaped to the bathroom, and you had the perfect opportunity to snoop.

your fingers hovered over his notebook, but then your gaze darted back to your own screen. back and forth, back and forth. his notebook. yours. the coincidences were piling up like a conspiracy wall in your head. the voice, the specific vocabulary choices, even the cadence—how did i not notice this earlier?!

“fuck it,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing his notebook and quickly pulling up the site where you normally streamed your favorite asmr creator. just to check. just to confirm your theory.

your heart pounded as the site loaded, every second dragging like molasses. the channel page opened, and at first, it seemed normal. too normal. you almost clicked away, feeling stupid for even suspecting anything.

but then you saw it: edit profile. analytics.

your breath caught, and a sharp scoff escaped you as you crossed your arms. oh, my god. the realization hit you like a freight train. it’s him. wonwoo. class president. sci-fi nerd. “how the fuck did i not notice?” you muttered, half impressed by his audacity.

you were so lost in your spiraling thoughts that you didn’t hear him return—until his voice, practically kissed your earlobe.

“what. do. you. think. you. are. doing?”

you jumped so hard your knee slammed into the underside of the desk. whipping around, you found wonwoo standing over you, his expression unreadable but his jaw tight.

“uh—nothing?” you stammered, trying to slam your laptop shut, but his hand darted out and stopped you.

“‘nothing’ doesn’t look like you snooping through my computer,” he said, his voice dangerously calm.

your cheeks burned. “okay, fine, maybe i was curious—”

“you were curious?” his tone sharpened. “curious enough to invade my privacy?”

“invade your—bro, you’re literally whispering dirty robot sex fantasies to the entire internet. how is that private?”

“that’s different!” his ears flushed a deep red, and you couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. “that’s content. this—this is personal.”

you rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. “oh, please. you’re mad i figured it out. admit it.”

he leaned closer, towering over you now, his hand pressing down on the desk beside you. “what do you want, huh? blackmail? are you gonna tell everyone?”

you laughed, loud and incredulous. “tell everyone?! dude, relax. i’m not gonna expose your little side hustle. besides…” you smirked, tilting your head to look up at him. “you should be thanking me. clearly, i’m a fan.”

wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. 

“you’re a what?” he asks, your pulse skyrocketing as he stepped even closer, crowding you against the chair.

“did i stutter?” you whispered, the challenge clear in your tone.

his mouth crashed onto yours, teeth and tongue and frustration. you barely had time to process it before he was yanking you out of the chair, his hands rough as they gripped your hips and spun you around.

“you want to act like a brat,” he growled into your ear, his voice so reminiscent of his asmr persona that it made you roll your eyes back slighty, “then you’re gonna get treated like one.”

he bent you over the desk, the cold surface pressing against your chest as he yanked down your college skirt and underwear at once. his fingers slid through your folds, already slick just from being around him.

“so fucking wet,” he muttered, almost to himself. “you get off on this, don’t you? knowing it’s me.”

“shut your mouth,” you gasped, but it came out more like a moan as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them and pressing them hard on your front wall.

“make me,” he challenged, his other hand coming down sharply on your ass. the sting made you gasp, your hips jerking against his hand as you tense on the desk.

the pace of his fingers was relentless, his thumb circling your clit in time with the thrusts. every part of your body was starting to be feveirsh, and you hated—hated—how easily he was unraveling you. you spent nights thinking about how it would be if onyx fucked you, and here you are. of course you would be a mess in a second.

“sorry” he mocked you. “am i too much for you?”

you clenched around his fingers, your nails digging into the desk as you tried to hold back a moan. “you talk too fucking much actually wonwoo,” you hissed.

“yeah, that's what's paying me at nights” wonwoo chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers out and flipping you onto your back with his big arms. before you could protest, he was kneeling between your legs, his mouth suddenly hot and insistent against your core, better than any other vibrator you insisted on using at night.

the sounds—the wet, obscene sounds of his tongue—mixed with your whimpers as he devoured you like a man starved. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as you tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation.

“stop—”

“stop?” he looked up, his chin glistening. “not until you admit i’m your favorite.”

you glared down at him, breathless and defiant. “you’re such an asshole.”

“and yet…” he smirked, diving back in and flicking his tongue against your clit until your head fell back, a broken moan spilling from your lips.

it didn’t take long before you were coming undone, your body shaking as his mouth pulled your clit. wonwoo didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, dragging out your orgasm until you were a trembling, incoherent chaos beneath him.

wonwoo doesn’t waste a second after pulling back, his hands flipping you over again so you’re bent over the desk, your cheek pressed to the cool surface as he grinds against you. the thick outline of his cock rubs against your dripping folds, still covered by the soft fabric of his grey sweatpants. you gasp, your hips jerking back involuntarily, and his pearly-white smile flashes above you.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost smug, as a dark spot begins to spread on his sweatpants from your slick. “you’re soaking me through.”

the way he emphasizes the word makes your back contort in shivers, but you’re too far gone to care. your fingers claw at the desk as he keeps humping against you, his pace quickening. when he finally pulls back, you hear the shuffle of fabric as he yanks down his sweatpants and briefs. the soft clink of a drawer opening catches your attention, and you crane your neck to see him sliding on a condom.

“you’re still melting all over my desk,” he rubs a hand over the curve of your ass. “can’t even wait for me, huh?”

before you can respond, his hand comes down sharply on your ass, the sting making you gasp. he doesn’t stop, spanking you again and again until your skin is flushed and burning.

“you look so pretty like this,” he says, his hand smoothing over the heated skin before gripping your waist and lining himself up. “all messy and desperate for me.”

when he pushes in, stretching you inch by inch until you’re full and breathless, pussy trying to clench at his big grith to adjust. wonwoo groans, his head falling forward as he sinks in to the hilt.

your walls flutter around him, and he moans at the feeling, the sound so real and raw that it sends a jolt straight to your core.

“talk to me,” you manage to gasp, your voice muffled against the desk.

he chuckles, his pace picking up as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “you want me to talk dirty? you want me to tell you how tight you are? how good you’re taking me?”

you moan in response, your hips bucking back against him as his words send you curling.

“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he continues, his voice thick with lust. your moans grow louder, and he suddenly remembers the videos you must’ve listened to—the whining, the moaning. the thought makes his stomach flip, and he decides to give you exactly what you want.

he starts letting out soft whimpers, his voice breaking with each thrust, the sounds spilling out almost involuntarily. “fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum—”

the genuine desperation in his voice drives you wild, and your body clenches around him, pulling him deeper. he groans, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave marks, but you don’t care.

“please,” he moans, his voice high and strained. “let me cum for you. let me—fuck—”

you push back against him, meeting his thrusts as your own climax builds, your breaths coming in short, broken gasps. the room is filled with the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies moving together, and the tension snaps all at once.

you come hard, your body shaking as you cry out, and wonwoo isn’t far behind. his hips stutter, a guttural moan escaping him as he spills into the condom, his body trembling with the force of it.

he collapses over you, his chest heaving against your back as you both try to catch your breath. after a moment, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck, his voice still hoarse as he murmurs, “guess i’m a little better live, hm?”

you just let out a defeated moan, the coldness of the table soothing your hot cheeks.

“keep quiet about this, and i'll keep giving you more.” well, it's just an excuse that wonwoo said to fuck you over again.

[honey-pages]

Seconds - Jayce x Reader x Viktor

Description -

One Shot- maybe a series if it is something that people enjoy.

Viktor and Jayce have lightly competitive games at work. You get caught in the middle.

F/M. 18+. Smut. Facials. NSFW.

It was usually competitive but friendly. Viktor and Jayce had no jealousy between them when it came you, everything you had was shared equally between the three of you. They would sometimes play good-spirited games around the lab, competing between themselves as to who would make you coffee in the morning or be the last to close the lab with you. These games often ended with some flirtation - between both you and them, and then between them themselves.

The post-it note game was perhaps the most memorable. Little notes were left around for you to find, flattering you and showering you with complements. You would sometimes find them with flowers or chocolates, Jayce’s handwriting was larger, rounder, Viktor’s was smaller, elegantly scrawled.

Viktor sometimes created little desk robots for your workspace, ones that carried away little balls of paper that you discarded. When Jayce caught on, he began to give them improvements, each with carved signatures with his name on. This was obviously met with hilarity from Viktor who began to write back notes declaring the robots to be patented and therefore his intellectual property. The next time all three of you were together, when Jayce was inside you, he made sure to explain to Viktor that it was you that was his property.

The next day on your lunch break, you sat with Viktor while Jayce carried on working. You had around fifteen minutes before you were due to get back to work. He sat you on the floor between his knees in the study room. He looked so tall sat over you, one hand trained on your chin, tilting your head back to give him a better target to aim for. You waited patiently, the two of you giggling about what Jayce’s response will be.

“Don’t move, (Y/N), I’m almost ready. I’m going to cover you.” He moans, giving himself the final strokes that push him over the edge, shooting hot streams over you. You open your mouth for him.

“You look so good like that, painted with me.” He uses his fingers to scoop back out the cum that fell into your mouth, wiping it over your face. “We need as much as we can on your pretty face for Jayce to see.”

When you went back into the lab, you walked up to Jayce who sat in his chair, focused.

“Hey (Y/N)!” He called as he felt your hands on his shoulder, he spun to talk to you.

He slowly took in the sight of you, covered in Viktor. There was silence, then laughter.

“What did V do to you?” He asked, not able to control his amusement.

He took your hand and guided you forward, he lowered you onto the floor, sitting you between his legs just as Viktor did.

“Did he do this?” He asked, pulling himself free and beginning to pump himself with his fist. He hovers over your face.

“Something like that” You reply, your face feeling completely wet. You smile up at Jayce.

“I am going to send you right back to him.” He promises, getting faster and faster, streamlining his pleasure to finish with speed. He spills over you, grunting as he does so. “Now tell Viktor to take his thirds, since I made such good use of his seconds.”

When you returned to Viktor, he was genuinely open mouthed at the sight of you, your face completely covered. He stood to circle around and examine you. He stiffened a little at the thought of what Jayce has just done to you. If he hadn’t emptied all that was inside of him, he may have been tempted to fuck you in a way in which he could see the collaboration of both of their work. He was speechless. He had no response to give, you had already exhausted him. All he could do was hold his hands up and accept temporary defeat. He made a mental note to come back harder - partner versus partner.

[karinasbaby]

haven’t seen lots of awareness brought to this in enhablr yet but i really wish all engenes could also post about & talk about the mistreatment they’re getting from belift. the way they haven’t had not even five days of rest the past two years is so concerning. the way the members’ healths are getting worse is so terrifying. they’re all so horrendously overworked and exhausted. we all saw jay’s injury and how they STILL made him perform despite the fact that his knee was injured. and now he’s on a hiatus that probably won’t even last that long considering how greedy their company is.

jake had to sit out from two different stages in their most recent concert and couldn’t even open his eyes when he was present for the other stages. heeseung can’t even properly perform with how overworked and exhausted he is. riki even spoke out about fainting in his weverse (whether it was a mistranslation or joke or not) this is all so terrifying. it’s so concerning because every engene knows how much enha love music & how much they love performing and having concerts for their fans.

their schedules for the past two years have literally been inhumane. comeback after comeback. tour after tour. event after event. concert after concert. belift is treating the members like they’re literal robots and the only people that can actually stop this is engenes themselves the longer you demand for a rest for the boys for no more comebacks and even boycott the higher of a chance enha will have a BREAK.

so please as an engene SPEAK OUT. repost reblog on here on every platform retweet on X share posts on tumblr use hashtags do whatever you can in your power for enha because it’s so clear they don’t have anyone else but us engenes when their own company is treating them like this.

mind you. they’re planning on making enhypen have another comeback at the final quarter of this year. AGAIN.

LET ENHYPEN REST ‼️

tagging a few moots: @intromortal @heeslomll @ak4e7a @enha-stars @venomhee @sjyfave @alvojake @hollyoongs @yzzyhee @ja3yun @jaylaxies @hoondrop @fakeuwus

[formula-ghost]

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER SUMMARY: In the aftermath of Oscar’s breakup, he realizes there’s only one thing he needs to start feeling better. 

WORD COUNT: 9.4k

WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI. Reader has AFAB anatomy. Rough sex (choking, biting, hair pulling), oral (m and f receiving), fingering, P in V, use of protection, praise, degradation/name calling, no aftercare (literally this entire chapter is them fucking, I’m sorry. I promise that all the smut has plot value haha). Mentions of cheating, reader is haunted by the narrative, hints of angst at the end. Also if a man treats you like Oscar treats YN in this story, LEAVE HIM. 

TAGLIST:  @at-a-rax-ia  @henna006 @linnygirl09 @cassielikereading @judelina  @supertrashbread @fastandcurious16 @widow-cevans  @czennieszn  @irisesinthegarden @wierdflowerpower  @sweetwh0re @reginalaufeyson-holmes @honethatty12 @suns3treading @obxstiles

A/N: The amount of love that everyone has shown me on this fic has been so overwhelming. You all have ignited my passion to create again. Thank you <3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Oscar stayed at your apartment for 4 days. 

There was a lot to be done; Lily had to arrange housing back in the UK and move her things. At some point, Oscar would have to tell his family. Potentially, an announcement would need to be made on social media. 

It felt like a to-do list, rather than the breaking of what once was something beautiful. Now, just boxes to check off. 

And Oscar wasn’t up to the task of any of it; you couldn’t blame him. It was hard enough for him to eat and sleep, let alone think about the upcoming races or the logistics of the breakup.

You let him talk when he wanted, but as the days between the breakup and the present grew, he seemed to settle. The shock was gone, replaced by a void, a thick grief that weighed down on him like a ton of bricks. There were a lot of quiet moments. 

Of course, you at least made sure that he had his basic needs taken care of. It was the least you could do.

On the afternoon of the fourth night, he got a text from Lily.

I’ve finished moving my stuff. Can you stop by in 15 minutes so I can drop off the keys? 

You read it aloud, because he couldn’t even bear to see her words with his own eyes. He stared at the wall ahead of him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” you asked.

“No,” he said, “I’ll be okay.”

He was silent then, the only sound from him being the jingle of his own keys as he got up to leave your apartment for the first time that week. As he walked out, you exhaled, throwing out a silent wish that he’d be okay seeing her again so soon. 

Oscar made the same wish as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment that only days before he’d shared with Lily. He felt like a robot in all of his movements; getting out of the car, pressing the elevator button, walking down the hall until he rounded the corner and saw her. 

“Hey,” she greeted him, to which he just gave her a small nod. 

“Here are the keys,” she said, and handed them to him. “I got all my stuff out, so, the apartment is all yours.”

“Where are you going?”

“Back home. For now, at least.” 

“You know you didn’t have to do this. You could have stayed here. Or I could have gotten you a place here in Monaco.”

“Don’t,” Lily said, softly, as if her tone of voice could change anything about the grief that the man before he felt. 

“It didn’t have to be like this, Lily,” he continued. “I told you, I’d quit it all. I’ll go to therapy. Whatever you want.”

“You’re living at her place. You’re sleeping in her bed.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it already is, Oscar.” Tears welled up in Lily’s eyes. “Let’s just wish each other the best and go on with our lives.”

“Is this really what you want?” Oscar pushed. “You really just want to throw away 5 years? Over what? I can change, Lily—”

“Goodbye, Oscar,” she said, walking away whilst he was still talking. He just watched her form get smaller and smaller down the hallway until she was gone. 

There was nothing he could do but stand there. She wasn’t coming back. 

Back at your apartment, dinner was almost ready. The clock on your phone told you that Oscar had been gone a little longer than anticipated. 

Maybe they were talking. Hell, maybe they had made up and Oscar wouldn’t be coming back. You were never the type to worry so much, but you had to admit that your thoughts were racing a little faster than usual.

That was, until you heard your door knob jiggle and felt the vibration of Oscar’s footsteps through your entryway. You heard him sigh and sink down into the sofa, running his fingers through his hair out of nervousness. 

“Food,” you softly called, walking out of the kitchen with two bowls, handing one to him. He accepted it wordlessly.

“D’you want to put on a movie or something? Or…talk about it?”

He just shook his head. So you obliged him, allowing him to have a quiet dinner.

As you ate, you admired him from across the couch. Even with his tousled hair, eye bags, and hunched shoulders, he was beautiful. And one day his smile would return—that sweet bunny-toothed smile that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 

Your love for him had changed, though. You’d never have him. You knew that. And some would call it pathetic to stay in a man’s life solely because you loved him, when he didn’t love you in the same way. 

And maybe they were right. But you didn’t need the approval of others. You just needed your friend. 

And from Oscar’s side of the couch, he was thankful for the silence, but he was tortured by his own thoughts. The implication of what Lily had said; you’re sleeping in her bed, as if he had gone straight to you for a comfort beyond just home cooked meals. 

It pissed him off. How could she think so little of him? Accusing him of cheating, getting angry at him for wanting to spend time with his friends? 

Oscar was a man that was slow to anger. But when he got pissed, truly pissed, there was only one thing that really let him get that anger out.

If Lily thought that little of him, then maybe he’d just have to prove how horrible he really was. 

When dinner was done, you silently washed the dishes and cleaned up around the kitchen, stretching the sore muscles in your back and grimacing as they burned with the contractions.

“Your back hurting?” Oscar asked, leaning on the counter as you cleaned.

“A bit, yeah,” you confessed. “It’s fine.”

“I can take the couch tonight.”

“Oh no, you keep the bed. You need it before that flight tomorrow, anyway.” 

“I can sleep on the plane.” He paused. “Or, you know, the bed is big enough to share.”

Your hand paused as you wiped down the counters. You didn’t look up at him. The last time you had shared a bed with Oscar was when you lost your virginity. 

“I think that’s a bad idea.”

“We did it all the time when we were kids.”

“We aren’t kids anymore,” you said, reaching up to put away the clean plates. Your back burned with the stretch of your arms, and you winced. 

“I don’t mean it to be weird,” he said. You let the silence speak for itself. 

But when you were done cleaning up, you glanced at the couch and sighed, knowing that you really, really wanted to sleep in your warm and comfy bed.

So you slipped into the bedroom quietly, not acknowledging Oscar when you got under the covers and turned on your side, exhaling deeply as you felt the soft cushioning mold to the familiar shape of your body. 

Both of you were still awake, unable to sleep with the presence of the other, filling the room with a thick tension. 

“Are you still hurting?” Oscar whispered, laying flat on his back, staring into the void of the ceiling.

You, on the other hand, layed on your side facing away from him, staring into the void of your curtains that were only barely blocking out the light from the city outside. “Yeah,” you answered. 

You heard him shuffle, placing his hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you down to lay with your stomach against the bed. You let him, though the intimacy of the moment was…odd. 

“Trust me,” Oscar assured, as if he could read your thoughts. “Relax.”

You did, letting out a long breath as he began to massage the knots in your back, firmly pressing his strong hands into the dough of your flesh.

He slid his hands under the hem of your shirt, but you did nothing to refuse the contact, having practically turned into a puddle at the relief he brought your soreness. 

But when he was done, he just slid your shirt back down and sat back up in the bed, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Better?” he asked. You gave a strong exhale as you got up and stretched your arms above your head.

“So much better,” you said, giving him a soft smile. 

“I’m sorry for taking your bed.”

“Don’t be.”

“I guess I’ll go back to my place when I get home from Japan,” he said. 

“You can stay here as long as you like,” you assured him. 

“Thank you,” he said. In the darkness, the room was only barely illuminated by the lights of the city, but you could see Oscar's frame sitting before you; his tousled hair, his broad shoulders, his perfectly sharp jawline. 

Then the words came spilling out of you, in a way you couldn’t control. “I’m… so sorry, Oscar. For everything.”

“For what?”

“For ruining your relationship with Lily, for always being in the middle of everything—”

Oscar cut you off by kissing you. That familiar feeling of warmth and safety came to rest in your chest, a strange deja-vu. 

“Oscar…” you whispered as he pulled away.

“You didn’t ruin anything. I wanted you there. Always.”

“Lily thought you were in love with me.”

“I know. She thought you were in love with me, too.”

You paused, looking at him again. You couldn’t see his eyes in the dark, just the faint outline of your face. But the floodgates of your honesty had already been opened. 

“Was she right?” you asked. 

“Was she?” he responded, putting the question back on you. 

You didn’t answer. You loved him. He knew you loved him. You knew that he knew that you loved him. But you couldn’t bear to say it aloud, not knowing whether he’d say it back.

To end the silence, he just kissed you again, deeper this time, holding your waist. But you pulled back.

“We shouldn’t,” you said.

“Why not?” 

“Because you’ll regret it in the morning.”

“No I won’t,” he said, kissing your neck. You inhaled sharply. “Besides, it’s not anything we haven’t done before.”

“You’re not thinking clearly, Oscar.”

“I know what I want.”

You pulled away, catching his eye in a sliver of light that snuck in between the curtains. 

He continued, “I know what you want, too.”

He was right. You wanted him. And if you had really pulled away from him, he would have let you go. But he knew you wouldn’t.

So you let him bring his arms up under your shirt, holding you now with a force that was rougher, more refined, than when you were two nervous teenagers exploring each other’s bodies. 

He quickly pushed you down on the bed, pressing his weight on you as his tongue slipped past your teeth to explore the warmth of your mouth. His hand found yours and he intertwined your fingers, pinning you down with the tender gesture.

His lips roamed down, finding their way to your neck to leave marks as he roughly bit and sucked into the tender flesh, causing you to softly gasp. His unoccupied hand roughly gripped at your thigh, holding onto you with a frenzied lust that you’d never seen before.

All his movements were twinged with this agitated desire, as if your body could take all his anger and frustration away through just his touch. 

His lips left your neck for only a moment, as he freed his hands and removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, nipples hardened from the cool air in the room. He quickly removed his own shirt and began to fondle you, pawing at one side as he brought his mouth to suck at the other. Your head fell back on the pillow, overwhelmed at the rough sensations—Oscar’s bare skin against yours, the coolness of the room, the warmth of his wanting. 

His breath got more ragged as you felt his hardness pressing against you, the full extent of his longing held back only by the fabric of his sweatpants. It wasn’t like years ago, hesitant and gentle. Now, he was dark and still devoid of any love. 

But love was the furthest thing from your mind right now, your body overwhelmed with the sensation of Oscar’s hand around your neck, his fingers pressing down the side to keep you still as his other hand moved lower down to the hem of your shorts. 

He slid his hand under your panties, finding your pussy, slick and already craving him. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” Oscar murmured. 

All you could do was whimper as his fingers teased your entrance and he went back to kissing up and down your neck. It was like he couldn’t waste a second with your body, or else the reality of what you all were doing would catch up to him. 

But neither of you were thinking of anything other than the growing lust you had for the other as his fingers pumped in and out of you, filling the quiet room with sinful noises.

“Fuck, Oscar,” you said, your voice breathy. “Slow down.”

“Why?” he questioned, obeying your request anyway. “You can’t handle it, huh? How are you gonna take it when I fuck you?”

“Osc…” you exhaled. All you could do was moan his name as he sped back up. 

“No, you can take it, can’t you?” he taunted, his fingers sprinting in and out of you, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that made your stomach burn with pleasure. 

“Yes,” you whispered between breaths.

“Good girl,” he said, curling his thumb to circle your clit as he pumped his fingers faster, causing you to see stars.

The praise and the sweet burn of his touch pushed you over the edge. You threw your head back on the pillow and let out a low moan as you clenched around his fingers.

You felt him grab your chin with one hand, taking his other from your dripping pussy and forcing his fingers in your mouth. You instinctively closed your mouth around him, curling your tongue along the digits, tasting your own cum on his fingers.

His eyes traced the edges of your lips as he pulled his hand away and kissed you, mingling tastes until you forgot where you stopped and he began. 

He pulled away and removed the last layers of clothing until you both were bare, shielded only by the darkness of your room.

There was no love making, no tenderness, just animalistic desire, as he wasted no time putting on a condom and sliding himself inside you with a long groan. 

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he said, leaning his weight on you as he stuffed you with every inch, filling you with the sweet burn of pleasure. “Yeah, you can take it, can’t you?”

You didn’t answer, instead balling up the sheets in your fist as he fucked you. To hold him would be too intimate.

He closed his eyes and buried his head in the pillows next to you as he desperately rutted into you, taking it slow to savor every second of blissful escape that your body could give him. You could hear every frenzied noise that escaped his mouth, and you responded in turn, doing nothing to hold back the sounds that rose from your stomach to your throat and passed through your lips. 

“Oscar,” you breathed, “I’m close.” With every movement, the knot in your stomach threatened to release, flooding your body with pleasure. 

Oscar sped up his pace, chasing his own release more than yours. Still, you broke, coming apart beneath him, shuddering as he continued to press in and out of you. 

It wasn’t long until his own moans increased in pitch and intensity, signifying that he was nearing the edge. You rocked forward on him, fucking him as he fucked you, getting him closer quicker. The sweet friction of your bodies was too much; he pulled out and removed the condom, pumping his length furiously. He bit his lip and groaned expletives, cumming on your stomach, painting your skin with the evidence of your lust. 

Oscar’s breath slowed as he rummaged around for his discarded clothing, handing you a towel to clean up. As he almost immediately re-dressed, you felt…exposed. Self-conscious. As if this wasn’t your best friend, the man you’d given your virginity to so many years ago.

You felt… used. 

Even after you had dressed yourself, and both of you had turned opposite each other to get some rest, the feeling didn’t go away. Because, after all, hadn’t you used him, too?

I know what you want, he had said. You had wanted this—at least, in theory. But now, days after the love of Oscar’s life had left him heartbroken? 

No, not this. This couldn’t be what you wanted. But then why had he been right? 

Oscar may have said that he wouldn’t regret it, but you definitely were already.

You fell into a tense sleep, only to be awoken by Oscar’s alarm a few hours later. He groaned and slapped his hand over your nightstand to shut it off, grumbling as he turned back over and buried his face in the pillow.

You sat up, giving up on a good night’s rest, and went to the kitchen to make some tea and watch the sunrise from your balcony. You could hear Oscar from the bedroom, groaning as his snooze went off for the second time and he heaved himself out of bed. 

You wordlessly handed him a mug and walked out of the kitchen to the balcony. It was too early in the morning; there would be no sunrise for another hour or so. You sighed. 

“Aren’t you cold?” Oscar asked as he walked up behind you, mug in hand. 

“I wanted to watch the sunrise. Didn’t realize it was still so early.” You took a sip.

“You’ll get sick if you stay out here too long.” 

You hummed, relishing the warmth of the mug between your fingers. He was right—it was freezing. 

“When are you flying out?” he asked. 

“I’m not,” you said, staring off into the water in the distance. You took another sip. “They’ve got that new guy doing the photos this weekend.”

“You should,” Oscar said, walking forward to lean on the balcony next to you. The closeness felt like a mockery after the distance you’d felt hours before.

You let out a chuckle. “I think the new guy probably cried when we told him he’d get to do Japan. I can’t take that away from him.”

“I meant, like, with me.”

It wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last, that you’d gone to a grand prix as a personal guest of Oscar’s. It was something that shouldn’t be weird at all. Then why did it feel so wrong?

“I just…don’t wanna be alone,” he said as he turned his head to look at you, but you avoided his gaze.

‘I don’t know, we’re already behind on the merch orders—”

“You can work remotely.”

“Not from the pit wall,” you said, a faint smile tracing the edges of your lips.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re stubborn?” he teased. A smile came to his lips—the first smile you’d seen in days. 

“Never,” you said, your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Well, if you wanna turn down authentic sushi and seeing your favorite McLaren driver, be my guest.”

You cringed at the reference—ever since Lily had tried to set you up with Lando, you and Oscar had jokingly started referring to him as “your favorite McLaren driver,” even though you both avoided each other like the plague due to the awkwardness of it all. 

But authentic sushi sounded great. 

“You drive a hard bargain, Osc,” you laughed. 

“And I drive an even better Formula 1 car. Which you could see, in Japan,” he joked, tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in that familiar dry expression.

Oscar felt…normal again. And yes, you had been so busy tending to him that you had fallen behind on your work. But it was worth it, to banter with your best friend again, even if only for a moment.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “You got me. Let me inside so I can pack, it is fucking freezing out here.”

One torturously long flight later, you were checking into a hotel in Japan with Oscar.  

Since the trip had been planned so late—your ticket literally bought over the phone in the Uber on the way to the airport—the hotel was fully booked by F1 employees. You and Oscar would have to share a room. 

Your stomach sank at the realization, as if you hadn’t slept with him the night before anyway. 

Up in the room, as he unpacked a few of his belongings, Oscar’s phone rang. You glanced at the caller ID: Mum.

He saw it too, but ignored it, continuing to set out his clothes for the next morning. 

But your phone rang, too, the same name and number, even the same caller ID. Nicole was practically your mom anyways.

“Do you want me to answer it?” you asked, and Oscar sighed.

“I haven’t told her yet.”

“I figured.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Not even with her.” He slung a shirt over his shoulder, walking towards the bathroom.

“She’s not gonna stop until she gets one of us on the phone.”

“I know.”

“Do you want me to lie?

“No,” he began. He knew you. You could pull off a small white lie if you really had to, but it tortured you inside. He wouldn’t ask that of you. “I guess… do you mind telling her? I just don’t have it in me.”

“I can.”

“Thank you,” he said, giving you a flat smile, a genuine attempt at thankfulness. You just nodded and took a deep breath as you heard the shower knob turn and water droplets crash against the floor.

You called Nicole back.

“Hello, darling,” she began. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. A bit jet lagged,” you admitted.

“Where are you off to now?” she joked, a smile surely on her face.

“I’m in Japan with Oscar, actually. Kinda last minute.”

“Ah,” she said. “Are you with him now?”

“No,” you lied, unable to admit that you were currently sharing a room with her son. “I can pass it along, though?”

“Oh no, I was just wondering how he was doing.”

“Well, I can tell you, he’s not great, unfortunately. Erm… he and Lily broke up.”

“Oh, God…” she sighed, “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. “I’m not entirely sure what happened. I guess they just weren’t happy anymore. He’s heartbroken, though. So, if it seems like he’s avoiding your calls, that’s why.”

“You know, I figured something was wrong. Things were just…off, when you all were here, weren’t they?” 

Your heart rate increased. “Yeah, I guess they were.”

“Can I ask you something, YN?”

“Of course.”

“Did you know anything about this?” Her tone wasn’t at all accusatory or scandalous; as usual, she was kind.

“I mean, I knew they were having some problems. I think Lily wanted them to spend more time together. I never thought it’d end, though.”

Nicole hummed. She knew you couldn’t quite tell her the full truth. There was something deeper there, something from far before your visit to the Piastri family home. She’d get it from you eventually. 

‘Well, I’m sure you all are busy in Japan, so I won’t hold you any longer. But tell Oscar I love him and to call me when he’s ready. And I love you too, YN.”

“Love you, Mum,” you said as you hung up the call. Her voice felt like a warm hug through the phone. 

As if on cue, Oscar came out of the shower, the white towel wrapped around his waist leaving little to the imagination. He roughly tousled his wet hair in a smaller towel. God, he looked good. If it were up to you, you’d push him back on the bed and fuck him right then and there.

But something felt…wrong. You’d been with him just the night before, but an unfamiliar guilt had made its way inside of your chest and made a home there.

It didn’t make sense. You, not Oscar, had warned against it; he had worn down your carefully built defenses, the ones you’d meticulously created over the years, until no excuse could protect you from the truth anymore. Yes, you wanted him. You had wanted him for years. Every second that he had been with Lily, you had wanted him for yourself. 

But you had never done anything about it. Always been respectful, reading the room, leaving when you knew you weren’t wanted. You hadn’t done anything until she finally left—and did you have every right to, then?

You guessed so. Then why did it now feel so fucking wrong?

Oscar’s voice broke you out of your spiraling. “What did she say?”

“She just wanted to check up on you. I told her.” He hummed in response. “She was asking me about it, but I didn’t really know how much you wanted to share. She just said she loves you and to give her a call when you can.”

“Thank you. For… doing that. I’m sure it was awkward.”

“It was fine,” you lied. It had been incredibly awkward—you could sense that Nicole suspected you were far more involved in the breakup than you had admitted to being. But was it really your fault? What had you done wrong? You continued, “It’s the least I can do.”

Oscar got quiet then, thinking about what, you’d never know. 

“Well, I guess I promised you sushi?”

“That you did,” you replied. You were more thankful for a break in the awkward silence than the promise of dinner.

So you ended up at Oscar’s favorite hole in the wall sushi restaurant in Japan, as if nothing in the world was amiss. 

Still, the feeling of something being deeply wrong, though now shoved to the back of your mind, wouldn’t leave you alone. It was odd—there had never been an F1 race in which Oscar and Lily weren’t together. Of course, she couldn’t come to every race, and with you working for him, you often ended up in positions similar to this.

But it felt like your entire world had been tinged a bizarre shade of blue, like Lily’s absence was a grief that you felt too, though you two had never been particularly close. And if you could even feel this crushing weight of her absence, you didn’t even want to begin imagining what Oscar felt. 

So, you’d have to excuse the awkwardness, the quiet moments, and even his concerning desire for you last night. He must be losing his mind. 

All of this, while also attempting to keep up the appearance of normalcy; he snapped a photo of you throwing up a peace sign and posted it to his close friends story, playing as if nothing was amiss. 

As you ate, his phone vibrated. A message from Lando. 

Oh, you all didn’t invite me? I see how it is. 

The message, dripping with Lando’s usual cocky sarcasm, was typical of the Brit. On any other day, Oscar would have smiled to himself and playfully rolled his eyes at his teammate’s antics. Today, though, the message only brought forth a flood of frustration. 

In the midst of Oscar’s heartbreak, something darker had been brewing; a championship battle.

He knew it was too early in the season to call. It was only the third race, and McLaren was known for the teamwork between himself and Lando. But Oscar was nothing if not competitive. You had to be, to get this far in F1. 

His legacy so far has been polite teamwork. Papaya rules, or whatever the fuck the strategists wanted to call it. Getting gifted wins by Lando or giving him the wins that Oscar rightfully deserved—he was willing to do it, of course, for the team. But he couldn’t be sidelined forever in favor of the golden boy of Formula 1. 

So Oscar knew that this would be his season. Lando had a close call in the 2024 season with Max Verstappen and was being hailed as the favorite for this year’s championship. But Oscar was determined. Oscar had nothing left to lose. 

He was getting that championship if it killed him. And that meant that there was no more room for friends.

Oscar opened the message, just to get the notification bubble to go away, annoyed by the friendly pestering of his competitor. He left Lando on seen.

But Lando wouldn’t let his teammate get away from him that easily. 

“Hey, Oscar,” he yelled ahead of him, as they walked into the paddock the next morning for media day. “Morning, you muppet,” he said, playfully clapping Oscar on the back. 

“Morning,” Oscar murmured. 

“Tired?” he asked. Oscar nodded. “Well, makes sense, because you were so busy going out without me. And then you had the nerve to leave me on read.”

Lando’s tone was clearly playful, but Oscar was still having none of it. “We got sushi.”

“Ewww. But as your unofficial fourth wheel, I still would have appreciated an invite.”

“It was just me and YN,” Oscar said, absentmindedly fiddling in his bag for his ID. He had truly been tired—too tired to really organize his bag before he left the hotel this morning. 

“Ah. Well,” Lando smiled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, “wouldn’t want to interrupt that.”

Oscar looked up, making an unamused face at Lando. “What are you saying?”

“What? I know a side chick when I see one. But that’s none of my business, I know when to keep my mouth shut.” 

Oscar yanked his pass out of his bag, zipping it up aggressively. “YN isn’t my side chick.”

“You’re in a sour mood. Did you not sleep well or something?”

Oscar wanted nothing more than for Lando to leave him alone. “No, I didn’t. Lando, you know we’re not friends, right?”

“Sure we are.”

“Outside of the track, maybe. But I’m here to beat you. Not invite you out to sushi.” 

“Oscar, you’ve got to relax. You’re letting all this get to your head, mate.”

“I have somewhere to be,” Oscar said, abruptly ending the exchange there.

Lando wasn’t offended. He knew that when stakes were high, you said things you didn’t mean—God knows he had done that himself too many times to count. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something beyond just the stresses of Formula 1 racing that was causing Oscar’s hostility. 

Contrary to what one might think, Oscar was actually very easy to read. And it hadn’t exactly been top secret that he and Lily were having issues. Maybe Lando had just hit a nerve with the implication that Oscar had been unfaithful. 

But was he so wrong? To any outside viewer it seemed plain as day that there was something between you and Oscar that Lily seemed in denial about—at least, she had been, until Lando was caught in the crossfire during the Italy trip. 

God, the Italy trip. He cringed just thinking about it. Even after clearing the air with you, he just felt so…disgusting. Not at you, but at himself, the way he had dismissed you as if you were meaningless. But what else was he meant to do, when Lily had pushed you far beyond your comfort zone, and he knew you didn’t want anything like that with him?

He hoped that you wouldn’t hold it against him. He certainly wouldn’t hold whatever Oscar was dealing with against him. 

And that was fortunate, because Oscar’s foul mood followed him throughout the day, and into the next morning too. It was like the Aussie was followed by his own personal raincloud of annoyance, unable to escape his own thoughts. 

He was quickly learning that, even at Formula 1 speeds, he couldn’t outrun his heartbreak.

But it wasn’t sadness that he felt. It was anger. It was determination. It was a giant fuck you to everyone and no one in particular. Gone was the polite cat, the veneer of civility and sportsmanship. He needed to win, just to feel something again. 

Sessions one and two of free practice seemed promising. The third session was even better. 

But before qualifying, he felt that now all too familiar feeling bubbling up within him. The pressure to perform.

He needed to get pole. He needed it. 

In the paddock, he passed the commentators box. He could hear them talking about him. 

“For this afternoon’s qualifying session, all eyes are on Oscar Piastri! The McLaren driver had an amazing 2024 season, and so far this year, he’s already clenched a home win. But, somehow, he has never secured pole position at any Formula 1 Grand Prix qualifying session, only having done it for two sprint races. Compared to his teammate Lando Norris, who has historically dominated qualifying…”

He couldn’t listen any longer. 

He stomped back to his driver’s room, the words spinning in his head. It wasn’t just the commentators. It was Lando, it was the crowds, it was Lily. 

No. Not now. 

He grabbed his phone and sent a text.

You were oblivious to all of this, having spent Thursday and Friday in the hotel catching up on all your work that couldn’t be ignored for any longer. You’d come to the track today to support Oscar, and to help the new guy, who you had quickly realized most definitely wasn’t ready to be working an entire grand prix weekend on his own. 

But as you once again reminded him of the most basic functions of spell check on Instagram captions, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. A text from Oscar. 

Come to my room.

A second message.

I need you. 

You felt your heart drop. Even if you didn’t know the details of what exactly Oscar was feeling, you could tell that it was slowly eating away at him, making him a shell of his former self.

In the few days since your last night together in Monaco, you had kept your distance, unsure of where you stood since that one regretful night. But soon, you’d find out exactly what Oscar needed from you.

You practically sprinted to his driver’s room, only knocking once before he opened the door, his face just as flushed as yours. He peeked his head out, looked both ways to ensure the hallway was clear, and pulled you by the waist into the room.

He closed the door and locked it.

In one motion, he grabbed your waist, pushing you against the wall and overwhelming your senses with a fierce kiss. 

You were left breathless as he refused to let you go, bringing his free hand to your chin to hold you still against him. His kiss deepened, devouring your taste, as if he’d never get another chance again. 

When he finally did pull back, you could see his eyes clouded with wanting, looking you up and down like he’d die if he didn’t get more of you.

“Oh, “ you exhaled. “That’s what you needed.”

“Is this okay?”

You swallowed back your nervousness at his loaded question. “Yeah. Just wasn’t expecting it.” 

“Sorry,” he apologized. “I just can’t fucking drive like this.”

You both held your breath as you heard a set of footsteps approaching, then fading off into the distance. 

“We don’t have time. Can you do something for me?”

You nodded at him, your innocent eyes staring at him with anticipation. God, you were fucking perfect. And he was going to ruin you, right here and now. 

“On your knees,” he commanded, and you obeyed. 

He gently pulled your hair back before wrapping around his hands in a fist, pulling you back to look at him. “You’re so good for me,” he cooed.

But that was the end of his gentleness. He was going to prove to you how much he needed you.

You started slow, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could, sinfully dragging your tongue along his sensitive tip. But there was no time for teasing. 

He held your head and pushed into the back of your throat, letting out a soft, low groan as the blissful feeling of your lips around him. 

“That’s it, love. You can take it, right?” he teased, and you let out a muffled “mhm” as an answer, your mouth being preoccupied with much…bigger things. 

“Yeah, you take me so well, you’re so good for me,” he said, pushing your head back and forth to guide your rhythm. “Like you were made for me.”

You couldn’t help the gagging noises that came out of your mouth as you pressed your hands into his thighs for support. He hit the back of your throat, and you felt your eyes roll back from the relentless pace.

“Good little whore,” he said, his voice wavering from pleasure. “Letting me fuck your mouth in public, whenever I need it. God, fuck—”

You dug your nails into your thighs as you took every inch of him one last time, until you felt the sweet stickiness of his release coating the back of your throat. He let out one final groan as he let down your hair and fixed his race suit.

You swallowed and wiped your mouth as Oscar leaned down to kiss your cheek, an odd tenderness after the intensity of your encounter. 

“I’ll see you back at the hotel, yeah?” he asked, and you just nodded as he walked out the door. 

You watched from inside the paddock as Oscar got his first pole position. 

Neither of the McLaren boys won the grand prix, though. Max Verstappen, in usual fashion, had to remind everyone who was the 4 time world champion and who were the two children in comparison, fighting over the shiny toy of a trophy. 

A double papaya podium was good, though. That’s what you thought, at least. You’d hadn’t talked racing with Oscar in a while, knowing that it caused him more harm than good to be constantly reminded of the stakes at hand. 

But after the grand prix, you couldn’t stay with him for the next two races of the triple header. You had truly been neglecting your work in favor of being there for Oscar, and you needed to focus to catch up on all the beginning of season chaos. 

So, having sufficiently trained the new guy to hold down the fort in your absence, you reluctantly went home to Monaco.

But on the road, your absence hit Oscar like a ton of bricks. 

He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t eat. He paced the lobby of expensive hotels like a zombie. Everything was just…wrong. 

Oscar had always been the type who didn’t like to be alone. That wasn’t new. But this…thing, that felt like it was tearing him apart from the inside? He couldn’t name it. 

You could, though. It was heartbreak.

“I miss you,” he admitted, his voice quiet on the other side of the phone. It was the middle of the night in Bahrain, but you were just laying down for bed. 

“I miss you too, Osc, but you’ve got to get some sleep.”

“I can’t. It’s too quiet here.”

“Why don’t you put on some music?”

“It’s just… not the same.”

You sighed, empathetic for your struggling best friend. “What do you usually do when you’re alone on race weekends?”

There had been plenty of weekends where neither you nor Lily were in attendance, but those days seemed foreign to him now. “I don’t even fucking remember.”

“I’m so sorry, Osc. Do you wanna…talk about it?”

He knew the “it” you were referring to. The more accurate pronoun would be “her.”

“No,” he said, the word feeling final and solid. “But has anyone asked about it?”

“No,” you echoed. “You’ll have to tell them eventually. People can tell that you’re not doing too well.”

“Great,” he sighed. 

“If anyone asks, I can tell them.”

“Thank you.” He paused. “I think I’m gonna sell the apartment. Get another one.”

“It might be nice to have a new start.”

“Yeah,” he continued, “I just don’t even want to go back there. But I know I can’t keep hogging your place.”

“You can stay with me as long as you need, Osc.”

“I’d rather you stay with me. The guest room is practically yours already, anyways.”

“I could do that,” you said. 

“Are you sure you can’t come out for Saudi Arabia?”

“I wish I could. But your fans order too much merch and we’re drowning in orders,” you laughed. 

“Good problem to have.”

“Yeah.”

The silence on the lines was thick, an electric current running through the fragile stability of what was unspoken. The breakup, all the emotions he had refused to talk about since it happened, and the…new hobby the two of you had been indulging in. At some point it would have to be addressed.

But not now. Oscar yawned, “This is awful. I’m exhausted all the time but I can’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. It was all you could say; it was true. 

“Will you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“Of course.” You could never say no to him, even though you knew you should be focused on getting your own sleep. It was an unusual power that Oscar had over you; if anyone else asked this much of you, you would have left them a long time ago. But Oscar? You wished that you could do nothing more than hold him until it didn’t hurt anymore. 

But, for now, you’d have to settle for talking him to sleep from a few thousand miles away. And, evidenced by his soft snoring, it was working wonders. 

In the days before his return, it seemed like Oscar’s anxiety was rubbing off on you, even from so far away.

You couldn’t hardly sleep, always anticipating his call or texts in the odd hours of the night. You settled into an uneasy routine in his absence, your schedule practically becoming his so you were always available to call or watch his races. 

On the surface, it wasn’t unusual; plenty of fans woke themselves up at ungodly hours to watch every interview or free practice session. But in light of everything else, it felt like more of a commitment. 

And the fact that Oscar wanted you to essentially live with him in his Monaco apartment when he got back? Again, it shouldn’t be so odd. You would live with the Piastri family for months at a time when you were younger and your parents traveled for work. 

But you knew this time it was just different. You knew you couldn’t get attached to this new life you had already begun to settle into. At some point Oscar would heal from his heartbreak, and things would go back to normal.

How could life continue as normal, though, with Lily being gone? She was so integral to the fabric of both of your lives that neither of you could imagine one without her in it. 

It was this topic that came up the night before the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, on a facetime call with your best friend. 

You hadn’t pushed him to talk, knowing that he’d come to you when he really needed it—and he did.

“I just…I hate being on the road, but I don’t want to go back. Being in Monaco without her just feels wrong.”

“I know. It’s weird for me too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, you all were endgame, you know? I never imagined this would happen.”

He hummed, clearly not expecting that answer. 

“I didn’t either,” he responded. “I know you said it would get better, but I can’t imagine it right now. How did you do this?”

“You want the truth?” you asked. He shifted in bed, bringing his arms up under his head to lay on them, like a child curled up next to his mother.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I ever really loved any of my exes. I was just trying to convince myself that I did.”

“I don’t believe that. Not after how devastated you were when you found out about the last one.”

You huffed at the nickname ‘the last one.’ After you discovered that your ex had cheated on you. Oscar was still so pissed that he refused to call him by his name.

“No, I didn’t love him. I think I was more upset about the fact that I had finally convinced myself that I did love him, and then he did that. I thought it was finally over, like…it was a game I had won. I tried to stay because I didn’t want to start all over with someone else. But I realized it was a waste of time, so I might as well just stay single.”

“YN, that’s…really sad, actually.”

“I guess,” you said, smiling and exhaling. “But you live and move on, right?” Through your screen you saw the faint sheen of teardrops on Oscar’s eyes. You looked away.

You continued, “But it’s different for you and Lily. You all really loved each other. I don’t know how you heal from that.”

“I don’t either.” He sniffled. “You’ve really never been in love?”

“That’s… it’s complicated.”

Even from a screen thousands of miles away, the implication of your statement was unmistakable. But you didn’t want to go there. Not now. 

Someday, maybe. Someday you would be able to tell Oscar directly to his face that you had been in love with him for nearly a decade.

But first, he had to come home. 

When he landed in the airport in Nice and caught an Uber to his apartment in Monaco, heartfelt confessions of love were the last thing on his mind.

Lando had won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. Oscar was now losing. 

He couldn’t win them all. It was the beginning of the season. He was going through a rough time. All these excuses swirled around his mind. And that’s what they were—excuses. He hadn’t performed. He needed to be better.

He didn’t want to be better right now, though. He wanted to go home and collapse in his bed and sleep for a week straight. But his apartment would be cold and empty without Lily there.

Well, at least he’d have you.

And since you knew coming back would be hard for him, you had gone out of your way to make his homecoming easier. Using your spare key, you moved a few things into the guest room, did his laundry, lightly cleaned up, and had his favorite dinner set up and ready on the table with a lit candle rounding out the cozy scene. 

He thought he might cry tears of joy when he walked in and saw what you had done. 

Still, it was…different. When he would come home to Lily the house felt more lived in. Now it was clean and cozy, but too much so, evidence that the once binding force of the apartment’s atmosphere was gone. 

He wasn’t complaining though. Few people were lucky enough to come home to a clean home and a warm meal made by someone who loved them. And after the dinner, he certainly wanted to make his appreciation known.

“The least I can do is return the favor,” Oscar said, leaning against the wall behind you as you cleaned up the remnants of the meal. 

You playfully scoffed. “Since when do you cook or clean?”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said, wrapping his arm around your waist and bringing his lips to your neck.

“Um…oh,” you exhaled, unsure of what to make of his advance, but nevertheless relishing his touch. 

“You’ve just been so good to me,” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers up your spine.

“I’m just…being a good friend.” Your voice was breathy and tense.

“Do you not want to?” he asked, spinning you around to look at him.

“Well I just—” you exhaled, looking away from him. God, yes, you wanted him. Under eye bags and messy hair, depression and vulnerability, you wanted all of him. “In your apartment?”

“Would you rather I fuck you out on the street?” he joked. You would have smiled wider if you didn’t know that he was intentionally dodging the implications of your question. 

You couldn’t not bring it up, though. “In her apartment? In her bed?”

Oscar’s expression got colder. “It’s my apartment. She took all her shit and left.”

“It just feels wrong. I mean, Oscar, what are we doing?” You hadn’t intended for this conversation to happen now, but you both knew it was inevitable. 

“What we are doing is talking, when there are far better things our mouths could be occupied with,” he answered. “But if you don’t want to, that’s fine.”

He pulled his arm away from your waist and turned away from you, but you couldn’t bear it. The thought of him sleeping alone broke your heart.

So you pulled his arm back and hissed him rough. He pushed you back into the counter, asserting dominance, as one hand came up to wrap itself around your neck and the other snaked its way underneath your shirt. 

“Jump,” he instructed, and you hopped up onto the counter and he took off your skirt and panties before spreading your legs apart. 

“I owe you one, no?” he teased before his mouth found your clit and sucked.

“Fuck, Osc,” you said, putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your moans.

“Stop that,” he said, pulling your hand down before bringing his lips back down to your pussy. 

“Osc, I’m trying to be quiet and you’re making that….very difficult,” you said. 

“Quiet? If the neighbors aren’t putting in noise complaints after I’m done with you, then I’m doing something wrong,” he laughed.

You all never made it to the bedroom, too caught up in the moment to even move a few rooms away. He fucked you right there on the counter, whispering filthy nothings in your ear.

“My perfect little toy, aren’t you? Disgusting little girl,” he moaned. “Wanted me so bad you couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. How long have you wanted me to fuck you like this? Days? Weeks? Years?”

You couldn’t even respond, too lost in the heavenly feeling of him filling you with every inch. 

“God, you’re fucking filthy. I know how badly you wanted this, for so long. Fuck,” he moaned, “I’ll take care of it now. Just let go, cum for me.”

You obeyed.

But later that night, as he slept next to you, his words haunted you. It wasn’t the degradation—you liked that—but the deeper implication. He fucked you on the counter that he and Lily had once made dinner on together. You slept in her bed, next to her boyfriend. And he knew that you had wanted him so badly for so long. He teased you with it.

But you had never done anything, right? Oscar was right—he wasn’t her boyfriend, he was her ex. This wasn’t her apartment, not anymore at least. She had left.

Then why didn’t the guilt that was now eating you alive leave with her?

That guilt, powerful as it was, wasn’t enough to keep you from fucking Oscar on every surface of that God-forsaken apartment. You both were insatiable, and soon enough, the sounds of your pleasure echoed through every room, every day. 

Her counter. Her kitchen table. Her couch. Her shower. Her bed. 

The entire place, though now devoid of her belongings, was still Lily’s. And you were defiling it.

But you couldn’t stop. The feeling of Oscar’s hands wrapped around you, his lips on yours, was like a drug. You had waited so fucking long to have him—in every place, in every way. So why did it make you feel like you were going to puke every time you thought about it for too long?

And the question that you and Oscar were still avoiding hung thick in the air. 

What are we doing? The unanswerable question still haunted you.

As good as his touch felt, you knew it was wrong. And eventually, you’d have to talk.

It seemed that you weren’t the only one with that question.

After another night tangled between the sheets with Oscar, he checked his phone. A call from his mother. Fuck.

He had been avoiding her for weeks now. He couldn’t do it any longer.

While you cleaned up in the shower, he finally gathered up the courage and called her back.

“Hi mum,” he greeted as she immediately answered.

“Well hello, son. It’s nice to finally hear from you,” Nicole replied, her voice tinged with annoyed sarcasm.

“I’m sorry. There’s just been a lot going on.”

“I know. I talked to YN a while ago.”

“Yeah, I told her she could tell you. She’s, um, been helping me out a lot lately.”

“That’s good. How is she doing?”

“Oh, great,” he said. It was true. Oscar was making sure you were well taken care of, to say the least. 

“Been spending a lot of time with her?” his mother asked, bringing his thoughts back down to earth. 

“Yeah, she’s been helping me a lot with the apartment. I’m probably gonna sell it, but all the paperwork is ridiculous. I don’t have the time of energy for any of it,” he sighed.

“That’s not what I was getting at, Oscar.” He could hear his mother’s frown through the phone. 

“What?”

“You seem to have her around quite a lot for a man who’s newly single, don’t you?”

“It’s not like that, mum.”

“Oscar, do not lie to me.”

He sighed. “God, mum, I am not with YN! I would never do that. She’s just a friend. Besides, I don’t think I ever want to date again.” 

From behind the closed door of the bathroom, you heard him. You stopped in your tracks.

Nicole refused to give it up. “I raised you better than this, Oscar.”

“Seriously, mum?”

“Under the assumption that you’re being entirely honest, which I know for a fact you’re not, you know damn well how that girl feels about you.”

“How are YN’s feelings my problem?” Your ear pressed to the bathroom door, you heard every word. You thought your legs were going to give out. 

“Son, I know you must be heartbroken. But don’t do that to her.”

“I’m not doing anything. And thanks for asking how I’m doing, mum. A scolding is actually the perfect thing I need after the love of my life just up and left me a month ago.”

“Don’t get that tone with me—”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Fine. Do you think you’ll be able to come home at all before the summer?”

“I don’t know, mum. I’ll call you later.” 

The two hung up the call, and you heard Oscar huff as he put his phone back on the nightstand. You didn’t want to come out of the bathroom. In fact, you didn’t even want to be in this apartment, or the principality of Monaco, or on the same planet as Oscar Piastri right now.

But where else would you go? Your own apartment, the one that he had purchased? Back to his family’s house in Australia?

Where else was home?

Once, you had hoped that home would be Oscar’s arms. All you wanted now was to be held by him. But there was never much tenderness from him after your lovemaking. He always just turned over to the other side of the bed and fell asleep.

And that’s what he did now, clearly grumbling to himself about the phone call, though you didn’t say anything about what you’d heard. 

You sighed, a noise of frustration rather than contention. Oscar just ignored you.

You grabbed your own phone off the nightstand, hoping to distract yourself in work or endless scrolling.

But while Oscar didn’t want to talk to you, it seemed someone else did. Your eyes glanced over the screen:

Accept message request from Lando_Norris?

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

does botbots count?? i hope botbots counts. these two rot my brain every hour of every day, i am never Not thinking about them and everyone who is following me will be subjected to them regardless of how willing they might be . theyre girlfriends your honor

I AM BEGGING YOU!!!! TELL ME ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE TRANSFORMER SHIPS!!!! RAREPAIRS!! HEADCANONS!! OCS!!! ANYTHING!!