#Oh it’s happening! It’s finally finally happening!

[theabigailthorn]

oh god it finally happened, a friend of my parents' sent them a "Lovely Christmas video of a stream train!" and it's completely AI, they had no idea it was fake. It's the most obviously fake slop and they were fooled

"Look at this beautiful train!" "That's AI." "It's beautiful! Where is this?" "It's fake: the train does not exist. Thousands of gallons of water were boiled to create this and it's all done with plagiarised work." "What a beautiful train! How did they make that train?"

[felixbit]

chestnut

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader w. 0.8k genre: comedic fluff summary: your boyfriend, hyunjin, comes home on christmas day from sbs gayo daejeon after surprising you with a new look. he's shaved his hair and gone blonde. warnings: reader mourns the long hair but is very supportive. playful teasing a/n: this is literally just how i'm coping rn

New year and comeback season always meant new looks and fresh things. However, this was not expected.

You were at home, as always. Christmas was a busy day for Hyunjin, away at SBS Gayo Daejeon performing and looking pretty for the cameras. It was routine, but you always enjoyed tuning in and seeing the talent from him and his group as they performed.

There was a red carpet to unveil looks, but you were preparing some food for dinner that night. Things were getting hectic in the kitchen and time passed you by.

But your phone started to buzz. And buzz. And buzz.

Unable to ignore the repeating notification noises, you stopped what you were doing to figure out what had your phone blowing up. Notifications from posts and texts from friends... what was happening?

Everyone was talking about Hyunjin. As normal as it was for him to get the world's attention, the sheer amount of notifications was concerning. Something was obviously going on.

So, you opened your feed. It didn't take more than a single scroll for the picture to hit your timeline. On the red carpet, looking sharp and stunning, was Hyunjin. Beautiful outfit, many piercings, eyebrow slit fresh.

Oh, and his head was completely shaved and dyed blonde.

You stared at your phone in shock for what felt like forever. The two second clip of him looking stunning for the cameras replayed over and over as your brain tried to pick up the pieces.

You knew he wouldn't have his phone on him and able to look at it for a bit, but that did not stop you from blowing up his texts. Nothing outrageous or upset, but a lot of spammed questions and confusion got the message across pretty well. It was the least you could do.

Reeling from the overwhelming knowledge of your boyfriend's look, you decided to put your phone down and get back to cooking. You had to take your mind off of it or you might go insane.

The whole time, all you could think about was him. How drastic it was, how hot he looked, the whole bit. Hwang Hyunjin was taking up your entire mind.

Any task that you tried to do seemed impossible to entirely focus on. Every moment had you wanting to grab your phone and scroll, finding every possible photo of him. Hyunjin being a world-famous idol did not make this any easier.

Giving in, you resigned to doom scrolling. If you weren't able to focus, you wouldn't get anything done. Might as well just drool over how good he looks, you thought.

When he finally got done with the show, he was able to text you back briefly. He returned your texts with spam of his own, a bunch of apologies and letting you know when he'd be back.

Waiting for him to come home seemed impossible. The performance that the group gave was phenomenal as always. However, nothing could prepare you for seeing the look in person. Time passed dreadfully slow.

As you had finished up dinner, you heard the door swing open. You turned around to see Hyunjin out of breath. He waved to you, a shy smile on his face as he hung up his coat and took off his shoes. He approached slowly, looking uncertain.

"Do you... like it?" He finally asked, his voice shaky and small.

Staring at him for a few seconds, you smiled and nodded. "Of course I do, but why didn't you tell me?"

"It was supposed to be a surprise! A Christmas gift, you know?" Hyunjin tried to explain, breathing still heavy from running, "I thought it was a really big change, and I was worried you'd say no."

You looked at him incredulously. "Why would I say no to you wanting to try something new?"

"I... don't know." Hyunjin climbed into a chair, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he fully caught his breath.

You watched him for a few moments, quietly observing his new look for yourself. He looked stunning, his sharp features accentuated by the new hair and the piercings grabbing your eye.

Although, you had something on your mind. "Oh, your poor hair," You lamented jokingly, "If you had warned me, I would've cherished it more if I knew it was the last time I'd see it."

"Aish, you'll see it again," Hyunjin groaned, standing up and looking at you, "Just not for a while."

"You better grow it back out," You retorted, walking over and running your fingers through his soft, short hair.

Hyunjin grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see."

"Hwang Hyunjin."

"Okay, okay, sorry."

As you plated your dinner with him, you looked over and snickered. "God, you really do look like a chestnut. Changbin was right."

"What did he call me?" Hyunjin scoffed, "I'm not a chestnut."

"Chestnut, dumpling, flour boy. You're becoming the real grocery list."

"I am not!"

[katsu28]

snowfall

pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader

summary: when plans with your family fall through at the last minute, lando invites you to come home with him for the holidays. (3.8k)

a/n: the big finale!!! lando is so best friends to lovers coded, i couldn’t resist. does it snow in the uk in december, probably not but it’s for the plot so bear with me pls <3 happy holidays everyone!!

“Yeah, of course. Yes, mum, I understand. No, I’ll be fine, I promise. Okay. Okay, I love you too. Cheers, see you when you get back.” 

You end the call with a heavy sigh, tossing your phone away from you on the sofa.

That was your mum on the phone, telling you that her and your father wouldn’t be home for Christmas this year. You’d planned on going home to celebrate with them like you always do, but for the first time ever in your life, it looked like you were going to be spending Christmas alone. 

It was bound to happen sometime in your life, really. You’re an adult now, still trying to find your place and your people in this world. 

Speaking of your people, Lando has just made his way into McLaren hospitality, head on a swivel until his eyes land on you. He takes notice of your downtrodden demeanor immediately, marches his way over to where you are with gusto and plops down next to you, bumping his shoulder against yours. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks bluntly, dark brows furrowed in concern. 

You inhale a deep breath, forcing a smile onto your face to respond. “Nothing. How was testing?” 

“Fine. Seriously, what’s going on? Why do you look so sad?” He demands, but not unkindly or rudely. Just simply how Lando is with you, direct and to the point. It’s one of many ways he is around those he cares for. 

“I was planning on going home to spend Christmas with my family, but my parents aren’t going to make it home in time,” You confess. Your finger picks at the loose thread of your sweater sleeve, a welcome distraction from the lump threatening to form in your throat. 

Lando frowns. “Oh. M’sorry to hear that. That sucks.” 

“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be spending the holidays on my own this year.”

“What? No, you can’t spend Christmas alone. That sounds so sad.” 

“I’ll be fine, Lando,” You chuckle, patting his knee. It does indeed sound sad, but you won’t have Lando all worried about you when he should be celebrating with his loved ones. He’s got a lot to celebrate this year, and you don’t want your situation to take away from any of it. “Don’t worry about it.” 

“Come spend Christmas with me.” 

For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Lando is one of your best friends, sure, but joining him for something like this seems too imposing of you. Despite being close with his family, you can’t do this to them so last minute. After a long year, this is their time with Lando. 

You shake your head immediately, wrinkling your nose. “No way. I wouldn’t want to barge in on your family time.”

“C’mon, you wouldn’t be! My family loves you.” He shrugs. “I mean, you’re basically an honorary Norris already at this point, and I think my sisters might love you more than they love me.” 

That makes you laugh. “Shut up, no they don’t!” 

“Uh, yeah they do.” 

“Okay, maybe they do. I’m just that easy to love.” 

“Yeah, you are,” He says, smiling softly. Your head cocks to the side at the pure warmth in his tone, and it seems to make him snap out of whatever trance he’s in, because he gives his head a subtle shake. “Seriously, come home with me. It’ll be fun. Way more fun than just sitting around at home watching those boring home improvement shows you seem to like so much.” 

“Hey! Those shows are fun!” You huff, swatting him on the thigh. 

“Sure they are,” He says, still unbelieving. “So what do you say? Christmas with the Norrises, how ‘bout it?” 

You let out a breathy chuckle, nodding. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds lovely.” 

“Mint! I’ll go let my mum know.” He beams, bouncing to his feet. “Better let Flo and Cisca know too, they’d kill me if I brought you round and didn't tell them ahead of time.” 

“Lando?” You call after him. He whirls around with an arched brow, phone already in hand. “Thank you.” 

“Of course. I’d never let you spend the holidays alone.”  

Looks like this Christmas might not be so bad after all. 

-------

The first thing you hear when you climb out of the car at Lando’s family’s house is a shout of your name. 

Before you can even register who might be calling you, a little body crashes into your legs, arms wrapping around your knees tightly. Now you know who it is, and you grin. 

“Why hello, miss Mila!” You chirp, kneeling down to be at her level. She giggles loudly at the finger you boop against her nose, throwing her arms around your neck as best she can, and you lift her up onto your hip. “Are you excited for Christmas?” 

“Christmas!” She cheers. Lando wanders over to the two of you from the boot of the car at that moment, and the second Mila spots him, she grins even wider than you’d thought was possible. “Lala!!!” She squeals, reaching out for him. 

Lando takes her into his arms, swings her around a little bit, beaming brightly at the peals of laughter that escape her with every swing. “My goodness, you’ve grown! You might be almost as big as me now!” 

Lando’s brother, Oliver, emerges from around the house now with his other daughter nestled in his arms, raising his free hand in greeting as he makes his way over. 

“Guess my brother finally gathered the nerve,” He says cheerfully, clapping Lando on the back. Lando not-so-subtly steps on Oliver’s foot, garnering a hiss of pain from the older Norris. “To…make it home when it’s still bright out! Yeah, he usually doesn’t come around til the girls have gone off to bed.” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Oliver,” You chuckle, pushing aside your confusion as you give a small wave to the toddler in her father’s arms. She waves back shyly. “Thanks for letting me join you guys this year.” 

“Please, you’re welcome here anytime,” Oliver replies, sounding more than sincere. “C’mon, let’s head inside. Mum and everyone’ll be stoked to see you.” 

Mila wriggles out of Lando’s arms to come hold your hand, dragging you towards the house excitedly. You don't notice Lando and Oliver dropping back, nor the hushed conversation they have that is definitely about you. 

Much like both boys have said, the rest of their family welcomes you with open arms.

His parents tell you how good it is to see you again, and that they’re happy you’d decided to come home with Lando, Flo and Cisca glue themselves to your side immediately to catch up with you, even little Athena starts to warm up to you the longer she watches her older sister play with you. 

You feel right at home with all of them like you always do, and it makes you start to forget about spending your first Christmas without your own family. Though, in a way, Lando’s family is starting to feel like yours too. 

-------

It’s Christmas Eve and you can’t sleep. You’ve been at Lando’s house a few days now and everything’s been great—the food, the company. Lando. 

You’re used to him being a little forward with his affections towards others, because that’s just the way he is. So when he pulls your legs over his lap while you’re watching a holiday film with the whole family, or rests his head on your shoulder during Monopoly, you don’t think anything of it at first. He likes cozying up to friends and being close to them. But as the days go on, it starts to feel different this time. 

At first you just assume it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel awkward, but then you catch him staring at you a few times in a way you can only describe as pure fondness. While you're on the sofa cuddled up with Mila and Athena watching one of their shows. As you're helping Cisca figure out what to wear for her next date with her boyfriend, or helping his mum in the kitchen. 

It could be platonic, but it feels a little too intimate to be so. 

You don’t want to think too much into it, though. It wouldn’t do you any good to get your hopes up about the possibility of something more with Lando when it could just be all in your head. 

Sitting up in bed, you scrub your hands over your face. Too many thoughts run their way through your brain for you to fall back asleep, no matter how tired you may be. You glance out the window beside you, and suddenly your attention is captured at the scene outside. 

It’s snowing. 

Sure, it’s an ungodly late hour, but seeing snow makes you want to go outside. Doing your absolute best not to wake anyone up as you swing yourself out of bed and creep down the hallway, you make your way down the corridor to Lando’s bedroom. 

You knock on his door quietly, listening for anything that could give away whether or not Lando was up. For a few seconds, there isn’t a sound. Then you hear the clacking of a keyboard and the faint sound of him talking, and you know he’s awake. He probably didn’t hear you knock. 

Pushing open the door slowly, you pad into the room to see him slouched over in his gaming chair with his back towards you.

“Yeah, mate, I’m gonna tell her—no, I’m not! Fuck off,” He says. There’s a lengthy pause—whoever he’s on call with is talking, you assume. “I’m just—I’m waiting for the right time. Like, I’ll know when it comes, won’t I?” 

Your heart gives an involuntary pang in your chest and you sigh, having already had enough eavesdropping on this conversation. 

You pad towards Lando, going for a gentle tap on the shoulder. Your hand just barely touches his arm, but he jumps about a foot in the air, flinching so hard you think the poor boy might’ve given himself whiplash.

“Jesus! What the—don’t sneak up on me like that!” He yelps, pushing one side of his headphones above his ear. On the screen, you can see he’s playing Tarkov again. Alway playing Tarkov instead of sleeping, that boy. 

This time, it works out for you. Now you can drag out into the snow with you. Not that you weren’t going to do it anyways even if he was asleep.

“You couldn’t hear me! What was I supposed to do?” You huff. Squinting at the other username on screen, you smile, pushing into Lando’s space to reach his microphone. “Is that Max? Hi, Max!” 

Lando’s voice sounds a bit strangled when he relays Max’s response a few moments later. “He says hi.” 

“What else did he say?” 

“What? Nothing,” He replies quickly, swallowing hard. “Why?” 

“That was such a long pause, there’s no way he just said hi.” 

“Well, he did, so…it’s whatever. What’s, uh, what’s up? Everything okay?” 

Now you remember what you came here for. Grinning, you bounce on the balls of your feet. “There’s snow outside!” 

“No way!” He says earnestly, cocking his head to the side. He abandons his game in favor of shuffling over to the window and peering outside, letting out a pleased little noise when he sees that it is indeed snowing out in the garden. “That’s wicked.”  

“Will you come outside with me?” 

He exhales sharply, giving an amused chuckle. “Yeah, right. I’m not going outside.” 

“It’ll be fun!” 

“Don’t see what’s so fun about freezing my ass off in the cold,” He grumbles, but you can tell he just needs a little more convincing. You jut out your lower lip, giving him the pout of yours that he can never seem to withstand, and his resolve starts to crumble. “No, don’t do that. Stop that right now. I’m not going outside with you at this time of night.” 

“Please, Lan?” You plead, taking his face into your palms so he can’t look away. For a split second, his gaze seems to flicker down to your lips, but before you can process the tiny movement, he’s squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Oh my god, fine,” He groans, shoulders sagging. You beam, wrapping your arms around him in a quick hug. “Let me go tell Max I’m being held against my will and then we can go.” He crosses back over to his desk and mutters something into the microphone that you can’t quite make out. 

As you’re pulling on layers to guard yourselves from the cold, he pauses, turning to you with one shoe on. “You didn’t, erm, happen to hear anything when you came in to get me, did you?” 

“No, why?” 

You’re not sure why you choose to lie about what you’d overheard, something about Lando telling some girl something at the right time. He hadn’t told you anything about having a crush on anyone, but then again, these past few weeks have been hectic. 

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering.” He pulls the front door open right then, suddenly seeming so eager to get outside despite his previous grievances. Something in his tone hints that it might not be as nothing as he says it is, but you won’t push. 

You traipse out into the garden after him, making careful sure to close the door behind you so the cold doesn’t seep in. Fresh powder crunches underfoot as you make your way further out. 

The falling snow has already begun to coat everything out here in layers, and you drag your finger through it, smiling to yourself at the clean cut line it makes.

It feels like another world out here. In a life that is so often always hustle and bustle all the time, the quiet of this time of night in the countryside seems deafening, but in the best way. Peaceful can only begin to describe how you feel right now. 

“Why is it so fucking cold out here?” Lando grumbles, burrowing deeper into his three scarves. Along with the two jumpers and thick coat he’d shoved himself into before even stepping foot outside, he looks well freezing.

“Don’t be such a grinch, Lan. It’s snowing!” 

He scowls. “It’s freezing.” 

“C’mon, at least try to have some fun! You’re killing my vibe, mate,” You huff, bending down to scoop up a loose handful of snow to chuck in his direction. It scatters into the air before it even makes it to him, but hey, at least he’s laughing now. You turn to say something else, but you’re immediately stopped in your tracks. 

A snowball explodes against your forehead before you can say a thing, spraying bits of icy snow everywhere. 

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” Lando yelps, nearly tripping on his own feet in his scramble towards you. You’re too stunned by the snow dripping its way down your face to even register his words. “I wasn’t aiming for your face, I swear! Are you okay?” 

You blink owlishly at him, at the concern and horror mixing in his expression as he takes you by the shoulders to check you out. He uses his teeth to pull off one glove, tossing it off to the side as he reaches to brush the snow from anywhere he can reach.

“For a professional athlete, you really do have shit aim,” You huff, playful annoyance in your tone. 

Lando’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, eyes crinkling happily at the corners as he giggles quietly. “I know. S’terrible, innit? Good thing my job doesn’t require me to do any throwing.” 

“Good thing,” You echo. 

His palms cup the expanse of your cheeks, the pads of his thumbs brushing across your cold skin delicately, and he’s looking at you in that way again, the way that makes you feel like you’re the only other one in the world. Blue-green eyes like sea glass flit around your face, thick brows furrowing ever so slightly as he inches forward. Slowly, like he’s giving you a way out if what he’s about to do isn’t what you want. 

You’re holding your breath as he gets closer, closer, closer, until—

Fireworks. 

As if kissing your best friend isn’t cliche enough, all you can describe of the feeling of his lips against yours is fireworks, bursting in your chest like little explosions. 

“Wait—” You breathe, splaying a hand across Lando’s chest to push him back a bit before the kiss can go on any longer. Despite how much you want it to continue. He makes some sort of displeased noise out the back of his throat, pink lips turning down into a pout. “What about the other girl?” 

That gets him to pull back a little more, head cocking and nose scrunching in genuine confusion. “What other girl?” 

“I lied. I did hear you talking when I came into your room, you said something about waiting for the right time to tell her something. You can’t be kissing me if you like someone else, Lando!” You exclaim incredulously. 

He regards you blankly for a few seconds. Then he starts to laugh. You’re trying to save his ass and he’s laughing at you. You scowl at him. “Why the fuck are you laughing?” 

“Oh! Oh, that was so good! That was gold, really,” He splutters, tears in his eyes. You swat indignantly at him and he holds up his hands in surrender, doing his best to catch his breath. “There is no other girl, you muppet! I was talking about you.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh. Guess this is the right time then, huh?” He says, chuckling nervously as he rubs at his reddened nose. “So, here goes it. I think I’m in love with you.” 

“Why?” You ask, disbelieving. It’s a blunt response, you’re fully aware, but you want to know. 

“What d’you mean, why? Have you met you?” He scoffs, like he’s astonished you even have the nerve to question him. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and so smart, and you make people happy—you make me happy, even when I’ve had the absolute shittiest day, I know everything’ll be fine as soon as you find me. You know what I need, even when I don’t know what I need.” 

You’re at a loss for words hearing all this now. How has Lando been in love with you all this time, with you none the wiser? 

“Why’ve you never said anything?” You ask softly.

Lando smiles almost sadly, letting his hands drop back down to his sides. “You’re one of my best friends. I’d rather keep my mouth shut if telling you meant losing you. Losing what we have because you didn’t feel the same way.” 

That, you understand. The fear of ruining your friendship with Lando is one of the reasons why you’d kept your feelings for him secret as well. So to both of you, it was better to ignore your feelings and stay this close than to let the other know and possibly lose one of the best things in your lives. 

“We’re idiots,” You sigh, closing your eyes. 

“You’re not an idiot,” He says immediately. Then he frowns. “Wait, why would you be an idiot? I know I am, but why you?” 

You grab Lando by the collar of his puffy jacket, pulling him into a firm kiss. If he’s surprised, it only shows for a split second before he’s kissing you back fervently, drawing you flush against him by the hips. His nose against your cheek is much colder than before, but the warmth that spreads from your chest down to your toes is more than enough to remedy it. 

“Please tell me that means you do feel the same way,” He pants, looking entirely dazed when you pull away. 

You raise an amused brow at him. “No, I just kissed the living daylights out of you because I don’t feel the same way—what do you think?” 

“Best Christmas gift ever, is what I think.” He smiles warmly. Then he shivers, blowing out a sharp breath. “Now can we please go back inside? I can’t feel my face anymore.” 

Once you’re inside and have shed your coats and shoes and anything else wet with snow, Lando nudges you towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some hot cocoa.” He murmurs, quiet so as to not wake anyone in the house. You pause, causing him to look back at you. “What?” 

“The package kind or the real kind?” 

“What sort of question is that? The real kind, of course,” He snorts. “With milk and everything.” 

“Oh, you do love me!” You say gleefully.

Lando rolls his eyes playfully, giving your hand a firmer tug that has you sliding right in under his arm on your socked feet.

Despite all his moaning and groaning about being cold, he’s pleasantly warm, and you sigh, nuzzling in closer. He welcomes your closeness, dropping a kiss to the side of your head as he shuffles his way towards the pots and pans cupboard with you latched onto him, not even trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

It feels natural because you’ve always been close. Though now, things have changed. Now, you can kiss him if you want to, instead of wondering what Lando would do if you did it. You’re not just friends to each other anymore. 

You press your lips against his quickly as he’s piling marshmallows on top of two mugs of hot cocoa, pulling back right after just to see his reaction to the impromptu kiss.

As expected, his mouth curves into a grin, dimples on full display. He flicks a marshmallow at you, and you reciprocate, tilting your chin up at him in challenge.

Soon enough, now you’re both chucking the tiny white sweets at each other, trying and failing to catch them into your mouths. The first of you to catch one of them is you, and you cheer, flinging your hands in the air. 

“Oh my god, shush, you! People are sleeping!” He breathes, lunging forward to press a hand over your mouth as you’re mid-shout.

Your eyes widen in comical realization and it makes him laugh, which makes you laugh. His hand falls from your face as you both fall apart in quiet giggles. 

You’re laughing because he’s laughing, he’s laughing because you’re laughing, and neither of you can stop until your sides hurt. 

“C’mere,” He murmurs, stepping in close and sliding a hand around the back of your neck. His gaze flits all around your face, taking in the sight of you with eyes that twinkle with happiness even in the darkness of the kitchen. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Lan." You smile.

He kisses you then, long and sweet and with such gentleness that it makes your stomach do somersaults. 

In the morning, you’ll need to figure out how you’ll play things with Lando’s family, and then everything after. But not now.

For now, you’ll watch the snow fall outside while you snuggle up on the sofa with the boy you love and a mug of not so hot cocoa. 

So maybe this Christmas hadn’t gone exactly as you’d planned, but really, you aren’t too sad about it anymore. You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

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[rafecameronssl4t]

dad!rafe request where in mabel has a phase where she's clingy to her mama instead of being usually clingy to rafe

Mama’s Girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: Miss Mabes is what I call my puppy sometimes so I had to include Rafe saying it 🥲

Warnings: noneeee

Word count: 860

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

The soft light of early morning filtered through the sheer curtains of your bedroom, casting a golden glow over the space. You were barely awake, caught in that blissful haze between sleep and consciousness, when you felt a tiny hand patting your face. “Mama?”

You opened your eyes slowly, finding Mabel’s wide, curious blue eyes staring back at you. Her unruly bedhead made her look even more adorable. “Mama,” she repeated insistently, her voice a little louder this time. Rafe stirred beside you, groaning softly as he rolled over and draped an arm over your waist, pulling you and Mabel closer.

“Miss Mabes, it’s too early for this,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. But Mabel wasn’t having it. “Mama!” she declared, wriggling her way into your arms and snuggling against your chest. You chuckled softly, running your fingers through her soft hair. “What’s up, baby?”

“Stay with Mama,” she murmured, her little arms wrapping around you tightly. It had been like this for the past week—Mabel clinging to you like a koala, refusing to let you out of her sight. Normally, she was Rafe’s shadow, following him around the house, insisting on helping him with everything from mowing the lawn to fixing her toys.

But now, she wanted nothing but her mama. Rafe, still half-asleep, cracked one eye open and gave Mabel a mock-offended look. “What happened to Daddy’s girl, huh? You ditching me?” Mabel buried her face in your chest, mumbling something unintelligible. “Oh, I see how it is,” Rafe teased, propping himself up on one elbow. “You’re leaving me for Mama. After everything we’ve been through?”

You laughed, gently stroking Mabel’s back. “Don’t take it personally, Rafe. She’s just going through a phase.” “A phase where I’m chopped liver,” he muttered, though the amused glint in his eyes betrayed his faux-pout. Mabel peeked up at him then, her expression softening. “No, Daddy,” she said, reaching out a hand to pat his cheek. “I still love you.”

Rafe melted instantly, his signature grin spreading across his face. “That’s more like it,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “But don’t forget, you were my girl first.” The rest of the day followed the same pattern. Mabel insisted on staying glued to your side, whether you were cooking breakfast, folding laundry, or simply sitting on the couch.

She held your hand tightly, looked up at you with those big blue eyes, and said, “Don’t go, Mama,” every time you tried to step away. By the time evening rolled around, you were feeling the weight of her newfound clinginess. Rafe, ever the doting husband and father, noticed your exhaustion and decided to step in.

“Alright, Mabel,” he announced, scooping her up as you cleaned up the remnants of dinner. “Daddy’s turn. Let Mama have a break.” “No!” Mabel protested, wriggling in his arms. “Mama stays!” Rafe raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Mama needs to rest, sweetheart. Come on, let’s go read your favourite book. I’ll even do the funny voices.”

Mabel hesitated, her little brow furrowed in thought. Finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. “Thank you,” you mouthed to Rafe as he carried her off to the living room. An hour later, you found them snuggled together on the couch, Mabel fast asleep against Rafe’s chest. He looked up as you approached, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“See? She can’t resist Daddy forever,” he whispered, his hand gently stroking her back. You sat down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re both pretty irresistible,” you admitted, your voice tinged with affection. Rafe kissed the top of your head, his voice low and warm. “You know, I don’t mind her being clingy with you. She gets it from me, after all.”

You laughed softly, your heart swelling with love for the two of them. As you sat there, the quiet hum of the evening surrounding you, you realised that no matter whose phase it was—Mama’s or Daddy’s girl—your little family was your greatest joy. And in that moment, with Mabel nestled against Rafe and his arm wrapped around you, everything felt perfect.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Blue Christmas

dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), p in v sex, kidnapping, murder, drugging, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, abusive behavior

A/N: this fic is directly inspired by the movie P2 (2007) but I changed a couple plot things to make it fit for Rafe. Hope you enjoy!

The click of your heels echoed throughout the large, empty parking garage. You let out a frigid puff of breath as you shivered, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders as you looked for your car.

After the holiday party had died down, you had volunteered to stay late to finish up a report so you could have Christmas day off with your family. And now, a full hour and a half after everyone else left, you were finally about to be on your way home.

You reached into your purse to fish your keys out, clicking the unlock button to help you find your car.

Chirp chirp!

The sound came from the level above you and you let out a small groan as you began the walk up to the next level.

After spotting your car, you let yourself in, sliding into the seat and closing the door behind you.

You slid the key into the ignition and turned it, but instead of coming to life, your engine stuttered, refusing to start.

“Shit!” You cursed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Fucking seriously?!”

All you wanted right now was to get home to see your family, but now it appeared your car might not even be leaving the garage.

You reached into your purse to pull your phone out, dialing your mom, but when no sound came over the speaker, you pulled the phone away from your ear to realize that you didn’t have any signal.

Realizing that your only options were to find the parking security guard or walking out into the cold air to get better signal, you decided that you needed to find the parking office.

However, before you could even open your door, you saw the lights on the opposite side of the garage begin to turn off, one by one, growing closer until you were swallowed by the darkness of the garage.

“I’m still in here!” You shouted, feeling freaked out by the dark.

But the sudden sharp knock against your window nearly stopped your heart.

A bright flashlight flicked on, pointed at your face like the person was trying to get a look at you.

He must have seen the fear in your eyes because the light lowered to the ground, revealing the parking security guard, and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face.

“Thank god it’s just you,” you joked nervously as you opened your car door to step out.

You looked up at the tall, blond man, remembering the many times he had let you in the parking garage or waved goodbye as you drove out. He was a shy and somewhat awkward guy, but he had been nice in all of your previous interactions.

Underneath the nerdy looking glasses, you might have even considered him handsome.

“I’m glad you’re still here so late, or I’d be in a lot of trouble,” you groaned, gesturing to your car. “It won’t start and I don’t have any signal in the garage.”

“Ah that h-happens here more than you’d think, I can help you out,” he grinned, taking a cursory glance at your car. “You could um- make a call from the office, if you wanted.”

“Oh that would be perfect! Thanks um… Ray?”

“Rafe,” he corrected you with a lopsided smile.

“Oh. Rafe, sorry,” you repeated. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know.”

“You do?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion as you looked up at him.

“You hand me your parking pass every day, remember? Everyone who works in the office does,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah, true,” you let out a small laugh.

“Did you enjoy th-the party?”

You blushed, smiling to yourself as you remembered your coworker, Jack, pulling you into one of the empty offices for a quick make out session. This was the first time the two of you had ever done something so risky at the office before, and it had been pretty thrilling.

“Yeah, it was nice. I’m ready to get home to my family though, they’re all waiting on me.”

“Then we better call you a taxi, huh?”

“Guess so.”

You followed him as he lead you to the parking office, and your eyes widened as you took in the sparkling Christmas lights that were wrapped around the small space.

“Did you do all of this decoration yourself, Rafe?”

“Uh yeah,” his lips curled into a shy smile and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, it just brightens the place up. Makes the job less depressing.”

“Oh yeah, I totally get it.” You sat down at the chair opposite from his desk, mindlessly glancing over at the monitor that was showing multiple grainy camera angles throughout the garage, cycling through all the cameras throughout the building.

You looked over at the corner of the office to see a large black dog curled up on a bed.

“So, here’s the office phone,” he passed the landline to you. “I’m gonna step out for a quick smoke, you can uh, call your family or a cab, or um whatever you need to do. I’ll be b-back in a couple minutes.”

“Okay! Thank you so much for your help!” You smiled, waving as he stepped out the front door of the office.

You dialed your mom’s number, holding the phone to your ear as you waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” You could barely hear your mother’s voice over the sounds of children playing.

“Mom? It’s Y/N.”

“Where are you?? We’ve been waiting for an hour at this point sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, I had a little extra work to do tonight so I could spend all of tomorrow with you. And you’ll never guess what happened when I left the office.”

“What?”

“My car wouldn’t start! So I’m waiting in the security office and I’m going to call a cab,” your mother started to interject, but you cut her off, “don’t wait up on me. I’ll get there soon hopefully, but with this weather it might take a bit for the cab to get here.”

Your mom was saying something about sending your aunt to pick you up, and you waved her off, but when your gaze landed on the monitor’s camera feed, your blood went cold and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing anything.

Your eyes widened as you watched Jack open the office door building on the camera feed, pulling you inside, leaving only a moment before his lips were on your neck, and his hands were trailing down your body.

Your stomach lurched when you heard yourself softly moan his name before his lips covered yours.

This video was from earlier tonight.

“Y/N?” Your mom asked and you realized you had gone silent.

“I-” your mouth felt dry, your mind was racing, but you knew you needed to call the cab as soon as possible. “I’m calling the cab now.”

You hung up quickly, looking behind you and around the now cramped feeling office for the security guard.

Would it be safe to leave the office? How would you find your way out quickly with the lights off?

He was nowhere in sight, so you dialed the number of the cab company, hand shaking as you held the phone to your ear and cursing when it kept ringing with no answer.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, someone picked up.

“Hello? Please, I need a cab at 9876 Main Street.”

“How many passengers?”

“Just one, please hurry,”

“We’ll be there in under 5 minutes.”

You let out a sigh of relief, you were finally going home.

However, you were shocked back into reality when a hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, pressing a damp rag over your nose and mouth.

You let out a muffled yelp, struggling against them, but the strong arm that wrapped around your chest held you firmly in place.

You had only taken three gasping breaths before the world around you grew fuzzy, and then your vision went black.

Your eyes cracked open slowly and you lifted your aching head to find yourself still inside the security guard’s office, laid out on the couch. A chill ran up your spine and your noticed your coat was missing.

Rafe was sitting at his desk with his back turned to you, watching the video of you and Jack on a loop.

You let out a soft whimper of fear, shifting to stand up and try to run out of the room, but you quickly realized your right wrist was handcuffed to the sofa when it dug into the skin of your wrist, pulling you back down onto the couch.

The clinking of the metal alerted Rafe to the fact that you were awake and he turned around, a sick grin spreading across his face.

“You’re up! Sorry about all that with the rag and stuff,” he chuckled, acting as if it was some run of the mill accident.

His casual ease as he looked over you sent a chill down your spine.

You didn’t miss the fact that his large dog was awake now, sitting beside him and staring you down imposingly.

“Also, I um- I cancelled your cab,” he told you and your heart skipped a beat.

“W-why?”

“Well… I thought maybe you’d want to spend your Christmas Eve with me,” Rafe nervously offered.

You blinked at him in shock, at a complete loss for words.

“W-we could get to know each other, and finally have our first date.” Rafe stood up from the chair and approached you, and you shrank away from him.

“Listen, Rafe..” you swallowed dryly, heart hammering against your chest as you carefully chose your words, “I- I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m already seeing somebody.”

There was a deadly silence at your words and Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening in a way that made you nervous.

His dog noticed the subtle change in his attitude, a low growl building at the back of its throat and he slowly started to walk towards you.

“Easy Max,” Rafe warned, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t wanna scare poor Y/N too much.”

The dog backed off at that, laying down in his bed, but still eyeing you suspiciously.

Rafe sat beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist and you shuddered at the physical contact.

“Listen, Y/N, just give me a chance okay? Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“I-” you stuttered nervously, your mind too blank with fear to know what to say. “I have t-two siblings.”

You tripped over your words, face warming up when you felt his hand slowly begin to trace up your back.

“Keep going,” he ordered with a whisper, his hand rising to the rest at the back of your neck. Your pulse was racing and your breath was beginning to grow uneven with tension.

“I’m f-from a town 40 minutes from here. I’ve never ah-” you winced when his fingers flexed slightly, putting you even more on edge. “I’ve never lived outside of the state.”

“Really? That’s incredible. Me personally, I’m from North Carolina, but I’ve traveled all over the world.”

His eyes flicked from your face to your chest, eyeing the way your breath was coming quickly. He grinned wickedly, drawing so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

“Am I making you nervous, Y/N?”

He adjusted his hand, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around the back of your neck while his other fingers splayed down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Would you feel more at ease if I was Jack?” Rafe spat his name out like it was poison in his mouth and you winced.

“N-no. I- I don’t- no,” you whimpered, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.

This night had taken a turn that you never expected and your head was still spinning as you tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Rafe let out an annoyed huff, a scowl blooming across his face as he stared at you.

“Do you want to see him again tonight?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want to see him again tonight?”

“I-” you stuttered, but you trailed off, not knowing what he meant or how to answer.

Rafe rolled his eyes, clearly growing irritated by your indecisiveness. He turned to find something on his desk before returning to you with a key in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the knife, your breathing picking up as you looked to him in fear.

“What-?”

“I’m going to unlock you and we’re going to take a short drive, but I can’t have you getting any smart ideas, sweetheart.” Rafe grabbed your cuffed wrist, jamming the key into the lock on the cuff that was attached to the sofa.

He grabbed your wrist tightly with one hand, pulling you off the couch and turning you away from him before reaching over your shoulder and bringing the knife to your throat.

He leaned forward, letting his lips come to your ear and you held back a shudder as he spoke, “if you so much as think about trying to get away from me, I won’t hesitate to kill you, do you understand?”

You nodded, choking down your tears as he pushed you forward to signal you to walk out of the office.

Rafe led you to a car, opened the door, and shoved you inside, giving you a warning glare to not run before walking around to the driver’s side.

“W-where are we going?” You asked as he started the car and backed out of the parking space.

“You’ll see, sweetheart.”

He turned towards the exit of the garage, and for a moment you could feel your escape within your grasp, but he steered away, instead steering towards the ramp that led to the lower levels of the garage.

“W-we’re not leaving?” You could feel your heartbeat pick up again in your confusion. Where the fuck was he taking you?

“We’re almost there, Y/N, calm down.”

Your eyes scanned the dark garage, but they widened when he turned the corner, his headlights revealing Jack duck taped to one of the office chairs.

“Oh my god,” you whispered in shock, taking in the blood that was already dripping from his forehead. Jack shifted in the chair, his eyes squinting as he tried to look through the windshield.

“What’s going on Rafe?? Why are you doing this?” You hissed through tears, frantically looking back and forth between Rafe and Jack.

He chuckled, but it lacked humor and you felt nauseous at the sound.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N?” His hand came to your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you so much, and he’s what’s keeping us apart.”

Now you were almost certain you were going to be sick and you let out a sob as his thumb lightly traced your face.

“I- I don’t even know you, Rafe! I barely knew your name before tonight,” you cried hysterically, begging him to find reason. “Please, whatever you’re planning, just stop!”

You couldn’t stop the burning tears from falling now, anxiety making your heart beat so fast you felt dizzy.

“Shh Y/N, calm down.” He wiped away some of your tears with his thumb. His blue eyes watched you with concern, but there was a coldness underneath the surface that frightened you.

“I’m gonna take care of it, okay? And he’s never going to come between us again.”

Before you could question him, he closed the gap between you, holding you in place as his lips covered yours.

Your eyes shot open in surprise, stomach turning in disgust as you squirmed against him, and you whimpered when he forced his tongue into your mouth. His lips felt hot against yours and the kiss lasted too long, as Rafe held you down against the chair by your throat until you were gasping for breath.

He pulled away with a dreamy look in his eyes as he scanned your distressed expression.

“Do not try to run. Got it?”

You stared at him blankly, taking a beat too long to respond and his hand tightened around your throat.

“Got it?” He repeated with a sickening edge to his voice.

“Mm, mm hm,” you nodded, mouth too dry to make any noises other than humming yes.

“Good girl,” he purred, leaning forward to press one last kiss to your trembling cheek before reaching over to open his door and climb out.

You were glued to your seat, too scared to attempt running with him still so close. You could barely watch as he approached Jack with the knife brandished in his hand.

“Please- stop it! Don’t get any closer!” Jack cried out and your heart skipped a beat, more tears sliding down your face was you watched with horror.

“You were never good enough for Y/N, you know that?” You could hear the rage in Rafe’s voice simmering beneath the surface, ready to be released.

“Always taking her for granted and treating her like she’s some everyday slut.” He spat, pulling his arm back before punching James hard across the jaw.

You stifled your cry by biting your lip, trying to ignore Jack’s groans of pain when Rafe punched him again.

“Rafe, stop it!” You cried from inside the car and he turned around to look at you before punching him in the stomach with a grin.

“She may not understand what kinds of tricks you’re pulling, but I do.” He slammed his fist into James’ gut again. “I know guys like you, who get off on playing nice girls like Y/N and treating them like shit.”

“No- I’m not-” Jack grunted, blood trickling past his lips as he struggled to breathe. He strained against the layers of duck tape wrapped around his chest and the back of the chair to no avail.

“And I’m sure you look down on the guys like me. You think you’re so much better because you went to college and got a comfy, corporate job, and assholes like you always get the girl in the end,” Rafe’s voice was downright venomous at this point, and you could tell that he was working himself up to a boiling point.

“Not this time,” he chuckled darkly, bringing the knife to Jack’s throat threateningly.

“Rafe please!” You screamed, tears flowing down your cheeks as you watched the scene before you unfold, feeling utterly powerless.

In one smooth motion, Rafe brought the knife across Jack’s throat and a river of crimson sprayed from his neck, splattering across Rafe’s face and clothes.

You sobbed as Jack slumped against the chair, his head leaning back to reveal the large cut splayed across his throat, and you knew in your heart that he was dead.

Before you could think twice, your hand was wrapped around the door handle, and you pushed yourself out of the car.

The garage was almost pitch black, save for Rafe’s headlights and you didn’t notice the cement wedge in front of you.

“Shit-!” You cursed as you hit the ground, adrenaline too high to register any pain from the fall.

You turned your head as you scrambled to your feet to find Rafe’s angry gaze fixed in your direction. Heart pounding, you stumbled to your feet and took off towards where you remembered him turning from the ramp to the upper levels, the sounds of your heels echoing off the walls of the parking garage.

“Fuck!” You heard Rafe roar from behind you followed by the sound of him hitting something hard in frustration, likely his car, before you heard his heavy footsteps chasing after you.

“Y/N!!” He yelled, his voice reverberating and repeating as he cursed.

Knowing that this was likely your only chance to escape, you frantically looked around for an exit once you got onto the ground floor, only to find that it was gated off, and there was no way for you to leave.

When you passed a second exit that was gated off, you realized Rafe must have closed them all down to keep you inside and your heart fell.

“Where are you hiding?” Rafe’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he was getting closer.

If you were going to escape, you weren’t going to be able to do it alone.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer behind you in the dark, and you tried to quiet your shaky breath as you ran to the brightly lit office, hiding behind the support pillars along the way.

Even if he caught you in the office, if you could just make a call to the police, hopefully that would be enough to save you.

You finally reached the front, pushing the door open slowly and quietly before crouching and entering.

Unfortunately, in your panic to get away, you had forgotten all about Rafe’s large dog, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he ran up to you, barking and lunging, only to be yanked back by his chain at the last moment before reaching you.

Your heart rate spiked as the dog growled loudly in between sharp ruffs, barring his teeth and trying to nip at you.

“Shhh!” You whispered. “Good doggie, please be quiet!”

You eased past the dog and towards the landline, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking in your knees as Max continued to bark.

Images of Jack’s throat being slit flashed through your mind and you choked back a sob as you reached for the phone.

Your sweaty fingers slid over the numbers and you held the phone up to your ear waiting for the ring.

But it never came.

You pulled the phone away from your ear in confusion, and looked down at the handset, following the wire connected to the phone to where it should have been plugged into the wall.

Instead, you stared at the severed wire in terror, realizing that Rafe must have cut it while you were knocked out earlier.

“Why are you trying to ruin our first date?”

Rafe’s voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you slowly turned around to find him standing in the doorway of the office.

He was an imposing figure, made all the more terrifying due to the flecks of blood painted across his face and shirt. His glasses were gone now, and you realized just how much they had been hiding the threatening glint in his eyes.

Rafe no longer seemed like the shy, nerdy guy you had taken him for before tonight, but instead a dangerous predator who had finally cornered his prey.

“Rafe,” your voice was so faint you weren’t sure if you were even speaking. “Please, I’m scared.”

Your throat felt tight, tears filling your eyes when you noticed the blood on his hands.

“Scared?” He asked incredulously. “You should be thanking me for getting that loser out of our way.”

A sob clawed its way out of your throat, and you took a step back, only to jump forward again when the dog’s low growl came from behind you.

“Now it’s time to stop running,” Rafe taunted.

You felt dizzy with fear as you watched him step closer, towering above you, the outline of his muscular form barely hidden by his leather jacket.

Heart beating loudly against your chest and blood rushing in your ears, you didn’t have any time to think your decision through before acting.

You rushed forward, trying to push past him to get to the front door, but you were a moment too slow.

Rafe’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, easily picking you up and spinning you away from the door.

You cried out as he carried you forward, pushing you against the table in the middle of the room and bending you over it.

“Stop it-!” You screamed as you struggled against him, but he easily pinned you against the hard wood, letting out a wicked snicker as he roughly pushed the skirt of your dress up.

“Don’t you want someone to take of you, baby?” The blond groaned desperately, fingers grasping at your tights before ripping them open.

“I just wanted to treat you nice, Y/N.” He growled, anger radiating off his tongue. “Like the good girl I thought you were.”

You wretched your arm free before bending your elbow and thrusting it into Rafe’s stomach.

He cursed loudly, his grip on you loosening for just a moment before his hand clamped down around your wrist, painfully twisting it behind your back and harshly forcing you against the table. When you heard his belt jingling behind you, your heart skipped a beat.

“Looks like I was wrong.” Rafe spat, and you whimpered in fear as he pulled your panties to the side. “Maybe you are a fucking slut.”

“Rafe please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this, Rafe,” you were quaking beneath him, crying harder as your pleas fell on deaf ears.

You froze however, voice dying in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock run along your folds.

“Oh god,” he strained, and you squirmed beneath him, cringing when his lips came to your ear.

“You’re so wet you’re dripping down your fucking thighs, sweetheart,” he taunted, barely shifting his hips forward and spreading your lips with his dick.

You sucked in a shaky breath, legs growing weak underneath you. You fisted the hand pinned against your back until your knuckles grew pale. His fingertips brushed your clit as he languidly dragged his tip along your pussy, up near your ass, then down to your clit. Up, down, languid strokes as he hissed through his teeth.

"Bet Jack wouldn't ever get you this wet, huh?"

Jack’s lifeless body flashed before your closed eyelids again, quickly replaced by the sharp sting of Rafe's fingers clamping your clit, rolling his slick-covered digits over your nerves. An instinctual whine left your lips, and Rafe sneered down at you as he dragged his dick back up to your hole, circling the head around your entrance as you protested.

"Rafe, please, please," you cried into the table, clenching your knees together and tilting your hips from him, anything to get him to pull away.

“Fucking stay still!” He hissed, wrapping his thick bicep around your throat in frustration. You let out a choked whine, tears coming to your eyes when his muscles flexed, cutting off your breathing, and Rafe ignored you as you helplessly scratched at his arm.

He groaned as he pushed into your cunt, his tip nearly sliding all the way inside of you, met with resistance that only fueled him further. Your pleas were lost to the heat that blushed Rafe's face.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you been holding this back from me?" He dragged himself out of you, watching as you clenched and quivered from the sudden withdrawl. Again, he pushed his flushed head into your warmth, and then out, in slow teasing strokes that made your head spin.

Against every survival instinct that was screaming at you, you stopped fighting. Each sting of his dick breaching you, each wet squelch of his fat tip inside you left you feeling dizzy with want.

However, when you felt his cock inch deeper inside, you whined in protest and squirmed in his arms, but one flex of the bicep at your throat quelled your resistance quickly.

“You’re so pretty, you know that, Y/N?”

You shuddered as Rafe groaned against your ear, his arm locked around your neck and preventing you from turning away. Your knees shook beneath you as he slowly forced himself deeper, and you felt betrayed by your body when you felt yourself growing slicker around him.

“Too pretty to be trapped in this shitty office job, wasting your hours at work, if you ask me,” he purred.

His fingers found your clit again, thumb rolling over your sensitive bud, and you bit back a moan as your back arched instinctively, allowing Rafe to dip deeper inside.

He was much bigger than you expected, stretching you out with each thrust, and pushing himself deeper and deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

The blond wasn’t holding back anymore, reveling in every mewl and whimper he could draw out of you; and the way your snug walls clenched around his length had his hips snapping against your ass as he chased his release.

“Don’t you want a family to care for, baby?” He groaned, fingers swirling over your clit and you whined, trying to squeeze your legs shut in a desperate attempt to stop him.

His words echoed in your head, the sick irony completely lost on him.

You already had a family and he was holding you hostage to keep you away from them.

“We could start our own, together,” he whispered, and a muffled sob escaped your lips. When you squirmed beneath him, he easily held you in place, punishing you with quick, painful thrusts.

“You’ll never have to worry about working again,” he groaned when your tight walls squeezed around him. “Just- fuck- stay at home ‘n be my pretty, little housewife.”

Disgust and terror bloomed in your gut as you realized with a shock just how twisted his fantasies were. You felt sick thinking about how long his obsession had been festering beneath the surface and you had been too blind to see.

Rafe pinched your clit between two fingers and you whined, tears running down your cheeks as he forced your legs open again. You tensed around him, letting out a choked moan when he rolled his thumb over your tender clit.

You hated him, but even worse, you hated how much control he had over your body, and how painfully delicious each stroke of his cock felt.

“Please-” you whimpered, not entirely sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going, twisted desire clouding your head as he plunged into you again and again, the sticky sounds of your slick cunt filling the cramped room.

Rafe groaned, easing his hold on your neck to lean forward and trail messy kisses from your cheek to the side of your throat that was exposed, never slowing his pace or the steady circles around your clit. Nausea churned in your gut at the overly intimate gesture; and when the scent of copper reached you, you realized he had smeared some of Jack’s blood onto your cheek.

You gasped loudly when his lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Rafe’s low grunts vibrated against your throat when you squeezed down around him.

Your body rocked with every thrust of his hips, your knees quaking beneath you as his thumb circled around your clit faster now.

“Rafe-” your breath hitched and you shamefully realized that your undoing was hurdling towards you.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his bicep flexing around your throat as he lost himself in his pace, plunging into you again and again.

You let out a choked whine when his thumb pressed harder against your tender bud, and you were finally pushed over the edge.

Your body tensed, legs shaking as your slick walls spasmed around him. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, whimpering pathetically as Rafe pushed his cock into you again and again.

He snickered as you cried beneath him, reveling in the way you helplessly scratched at his arms, tearfully begging him to stop.

The blond slammed into you harder, each slap of his balls against your sensitive clit made your head spin and it wasn’t long before you were coming around him again.

You trembled beneath him, so dazed that you could only whimper mindless pleas.

“Fuck-” Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as you squeezed around him, his pace stuttered, and the arm at your throat tightened as he grew closer.

You could barely breathe now, and you struggled against him as he choked you, panic overtaking you when your vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

Rafe groaned loudly when he came, forcing his cock deep inside you and painting your walls with his hot, sticky seed.

You shuddered when he nudged himself deeper and you felt his thick cum overflowing past your sensitive, puffy lips. Out of instinct, you tensed beneath him, and he moaned against your ear when you tightened around his softening cock.

After what felt like forever, he finally pulled out, loosening his hold on you, although you couldn’t have fought back now even if you tried.

You heard him pulling his pants up behind you, and you flinched when his hands came to your back to pull your skirt down to cover you.

“C’mere honey,” he cooed, carefully lifting you off the table and guiding you to the couch. You obeyed him, much too out of it to put up any more resistance.

You cringed in pain as you sat down, but tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

Rafe’s hand was on your back, lightly drawing small circles on your exposed skin, and you found it nauseating that he could be so gentle after treating you so savagely.

He was staring at you, studying your nervous face for a few moments before reaching out to cup your cheek.

You flinched, turning away slightly as he drew closer, but his grip was firm, and he held you in place as he leaned in and draped his lips over yours.

Your stomach turned as his lips slid over yours possessively, and you let out a squeak of surprise when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he staked his claim on you.

When he finally pulled away, your head was swimming, and the dazed look in your eye made Rafe smirk.

“Aw look at you, never seen you so cock drunk before,” he chuckled, before leaning in to give you another quick peck on the lips.

“You gave me the best Christmas gift I could ask for.” He grabbed one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently. “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

You stared at him blankly, a tear rolling down your cheek that Rafe chose to ignore as he looked deep into your eyes.

“I love you, and I promise, I’m never leaving your side again.”

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Where's My Chocolate?! | LN4

Summary: Where Lando has a massive chocolate addiction but his trainer put a ban on it. How's a man supposed to live without his Kinder Joys? or his Kinder Maxis? or his Kinder Eggs? or his-

LANDO NORRIS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Lando was practically vibrating with excitement as he unlocked the door to his flat. It was the off-season, the glorious time when he could finally eat what he wanted without Jon breathing down his neck about "his unhealthy eating habits" and "lack of diet discipline." The crown jewel of his freedom? The stash of Kinder chocolates meticulously hoarded over the year.

He burst into the kitchen, opened his sacred candy drawer, and froze. The drawer was half-empty. Half-empty.

Lando stared in disbelief, his hands gripping the edge of the counter like he was about to faint. He began rifling through the contents, counting and recounting the chocolates as though they’d magically multiply.

"Babe!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Where’s my chocolate?"

Y/n strolled into the kitchen, holding a cup of tea, completely unfazed by the brewing storm. "Hi to you too, Lando."

He spun around, clutching a Kinder Maxi like a lifeline. "Don’t ‘hi’ me. My stash is gone. Did you—" He gasped dramatically. "Did you eat it?"

She blinked at him. "What? No!"

"Then who? The Easter Bunny?" he shrieked. "It was full last week!"

Sipping her tea, she said casually, "Oh, Jon called."

Lando’s face went pale. "Jon? My trainer, Jon?"

"Yep," she said, setting her mug down. "He told me to keep an eye on your candy consumption. Said something about ‘self-control’ and ‘preventing cavities.’ Apparently, you have a chocolate limit now."

Lando stared at her like she’d just betrayed him in the worst way possible. "You’re lying."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"No," he said, his voice rising to a dramatic wail. "You can’t do this to me! I’ve been waiting all year for this! This is my moment!"

"Your moment?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Lando, it’s just chocolate."

"It’s not just chocolate! It’s freedom! It’s happiness!" He dropped to his knees, clutching a Kinder Egg like it was a dying bird. "This is cruel and unusual punishment!"

"Alright, Shakespeare," she said, stepping over him to close the drawer. "Get up. You’re not a toddler."

But Lando’s resolve was already solidifying. He wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

That night, Y/n woke to the sound of faint rustling. Bleary-eyed, she reached over for Lando, only to find his side of the bed empty. Squinting in the dim light, she followed the noise to the kitchen.

There he was, crouched in front of the candy drawer like some sort of gremlin, surrounded by half-opened drawers and cabinets. He was whispering to himself, "Where is it? Where did she put it?"

"Lando," she said, crossing her arms.

He froze, slowly turning his head to look at her. His eyes were wide and wild, his hair sticking up in all directions. "Oh. Hey. Fancy seeing you here."

She pointed at the mess around him. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, night yoga?"

"Yoga," she repeated flatly.

"Yeah, it’s great for flexibility," he said, attempting a stretch that ended with him knocking over a jar of flour.

"Get back to bed, Lando," she said, grabbing him by the arm.

The next day, Lando devised Plan B. He called Oscar.

"Mate, you have to help me," Lando whispered into the phone like a spy in enemy territory.

"What now?" Oscar asked, already regretting picking up.

"She’s hidden my chocolates. All of them. I’m dying here."

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"Smuggle some Kinder Eggs to me. Discreetly."

Oscar sighed. "Absolutely not. She’ll kill me."

"Oscar, please! I’m losing my mind, mate!"

"And I’d like to live, thanks."

Lando groaned, hanging up dramatically.

The coup de grâce happened at Max and Kelly’s house. They had invited them both over for lunch, and for a brief moment, everything was going fine. That is, until Penelope came running into the room, tears streaming down her face.

"Uncle Lala stole my chocolates!" she wailed.

All heads turned to the pantry, where Lando was caught red-handed, stuffing his face with what was unmistakably Penelope’s stash. His cheeks bulged like a hamster’s, and he froze mid-bite when he saw everyone staring.

"Lando," Max said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "That’s for my kid."

"I’m...uh...testing for poison?" Lando offered, his words muffled by chocolate. He was already edging toward the door, trying to shield his loot from view.

"Seriously?" Y/n said, marching over, her voice a mix of frustration and disbelief. "You’re stealing from a child?"

Lando clutched the Kinder Joys tighter, his eyes darting around the room like he was calculating an escape route. "You don’t get it! These chocolates—" he paused, clutching the candy dramatically to his chest, "—are essential. I need them more than Penelope does."

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "You’re a grown man, Lando! Have some self-control for once."

"Uncle Lala should go to jail for stealing my chocolates!" Penelope said with all the righteous fury of a five-year-old, pointing an accusing finger at Lando.

"If loving chocolate is a crime, then lock me up!" he declared, crouching lower and hissing dramatically at anyone who dared approach him.

"Oh my god," Max groaned, rubbing his temples. "I can’t believe I’m witnessing this."

Kelly crossed her arms, glaring at Lando. "You’re eating a five-year-old’s Christmas stash, Lando. Have you no shame?"

Penelope, who had been standing quietly until now, stomped her tiny foot. "Uncle Lala, give it back! Mommy says stealing is bad!"

Lando froze, looking genuinely wounded. "I’m not stealing," he said earnestly. "I’m redistributing the wealth." He paused, then added with a whisper, "For the greater good."

Max raised an eyebrow. "You’ve lost your mind. Put the chocolates down."

"Never!" Lando shouted, clutching the stash tighter and attempting to back into the pantry.

"Uncle Lala!" Penelope shrieked, rushing forward to tug on his arm. "You’re a meanie!"

"Lando," Kelly said, exasperated, "Give P her chocolates back please"

"I can’t!" Lando wailed dramatically, holding up an empty wrapper like it was his salvation. "I’ve been oppressed for weeks. Weeks! Do you know what it’s like to have Jon ruin your life?"

"I’m going to call Jon," she threatened, pulling out her phone.

"No! Not Jon!" Lando cried, dropping to his knees and scrambling to hide behind Max. "Anything but that! Please, I’ll do anything! I’ll eat kale. I’ll run an extra five miles tomorrow. Just don’t call Jon!"

Max stared down at him, torn between amusement and second-hand embarrassment. "Lando, mate, I think you’ve hit rock bottom."

Lando peeked out from behind Max’s legs, his chocolate-smeared face a picture of desperation. "This isn’t rock bottom. Rock bottom is no chocolate at all."

Penelope crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. "Uncle Lala, you’re being very silly."

"You’re right," Kelly said, scooping up Penelope. "Lando, apologize to my daughter and step away from the pantry."

He clutched one last Kinder Joy, giving it a sorrowful look. "I’m sorry, P. But you’ll understand one day. Love makes you do crazy things." He kissed the chocolate dramatically before surrendering it to Kelly.

The lowest point came a few nights later when she woke to Lando’s sleep-talking.

"Kinder Maxi...so creamy...so sweet..." he mumbled, drooling onto his pillow.

She stared at him, half amused, half exasperated.

By Christmas, she couldn’t take it anymore. The sight of Lando moping around the house like a sad puppy had broken her resolve. So, on Christmas morning, she led him to the kitchen, where a decadent chocolate cake sat waiting on the counter, accompanied by a wicker basket brimming with his favorite chocolates—Kinder Maxis, Kinder Eggs, and everything else she could get her hands on.

Lando froze in the doorway, his eyes wide as they darted from her to the cake. "What’s this?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe.

"Merry Christmas," she said, her smile soft but brimming with excitement. "It’s all for you."

His gaze flickered between her and the cake, his expression shifting from disbelief to pure, unfiltered joy. "You… you did this? For me?"

She nodded, and his lips parted slightly, his eyes shimmering as if he might actually cry. "You’re the best girlfriend ever," he choked out before pulling her into a bone-crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her as he swiped some of the chocolate frosting.

She laughed against his shoulder, the warmth of his embrace making her cheeks flush. "Do you love me more than chocolate now?" she teased, her voice light and playful.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his face alight with a cheeky grin. "That’s debatable," he said, dragging the words out as if he were seriously contemplating it.

Her eyes narrowed in mock offense as she gasped and pretended to reach for the cake. "Fine, I’ll just eat this myself—"

"No!" he yelped, grabbing her waist before she could step away. With a quick, smooth motion, he spun her around, his laughter filling the kitchen. "Okay, okay! I love you more."

She tilted her head, her lips quirking upward. "Prove it," she challenged, her voice daring but soft.

For a moment, the world seemed to pause. Lando’s grin faded, replaced by an expression so earnest it made her heart skip a beat. He stepped closer, his hands sliding up from her waist to cradle her face gently. His thumbs brushed against her cheekbones as he leaned in, his gaze locking with hers.

When his lips finally met hers, it was like warmth spreading through her veins. The kiss started tender, his lips soft and lingering as if he were savoring the moment. But then he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, and the tenderness gave way to something more fervent. His hands moved to her hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together until there was no space left between them.

Her hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweatshirt as she melted into him. She could feel his heart beating rapidly under her palm, matching the rhythm of her own. The faint taste of chocolate lingered on his lips, making the kiss feel all the more intoxicating.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady themselves. Her cheeks were flushed, and Lando’s eyes sparkled with a mix of giddiness and something deeper.

"Alright, you win," she said, laughing softly as she looked up at him. Her voice was teasing, but her eyes held a warmth that mirrored his own.

Lando grinned, his dimples making an appearance as he leaned in to peck her lips again, quick and sweet. "How did you get Jon to agree to this?" he asked, his voice still slightly breathless as he glanced toward the cake.

She smirked, stepping back to grab a fork from the counter. "What Jon doesn’t know won’t hurt him."

His laughter was loud and unrestrained, echoing through the kitchen. "You rebel. I love it."

She handed him the fork, watching as he eagerly sliced into the cake. "Keep up with your training," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter, "and I might sneak you some chocolates now and then."

"Deal," he said, shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth with a contented hum. He closed his eyes, savoring the taste before looking at her with a wide, chocolate-smeared smile. "Best Christmas ever."

[abbyssgf]

𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬

• concept: You and Ran joked that you would be the perfect wife's Santa Claus and Sevika would be the Santa Claus. It was just a joke really but you didn't think your wife would like the idea and and it will really happen.

• words: 1,9k

• warnings: strap-on, dom!sevika & sub!reader, cursing, strap-on is called 'dick' and 'cock', santa-vika!!🤭, doggy style (r receiving), kind of dirty talk ig, pet names 'babe', 'darlin', 'sweetie', etc, using of 'babygirl', spanking, actually this whole fanfic is smut

• author note: well that's a Christmas fanfic! for people who celebrates Christmas, happy Christmas guys and for those who don't then enjoy your day and relax!💞💞 (and I didn't rereaded it so if there's any mistakes, i'm sorry)

It started with a funny, quick joke 'santa vika'. you and ran were joking about sevika dressed as Santa Claus and you dressed as her 'wife of Santa Claus' but you didn't really think that a joke could turn into a reality. 

Firstly Sevika didn't want to accept it, that she had to wear some stupid costume but as soon as she heard from you that you could dress up as 'wife of Santa Claus' in a pretty, red, revealing outfit she agreed. Oh, you knew your wifea little too much, you knew she would agree to this. 

Finally it was Christmas Day, you and sevika spent it together in your home with a cozy and warm embrace, you ate the meals you prepared and when the evening came you both were excited for what happened.

Right now you were cleaning dishes after your dinner and you felt those muscular, warm arms around your waist and lips on the back of your neck. You immediately knew it was Sevika.

"yeah, baby?" you asked as you were washing the dishes, Sevika placed another few kisses on your neck and she murmured into your neck "It's evening, sweetheart". After a while you understood what she meant and a smile came to your face but you wanted to tease her a little bit "yeah, and?" you asked as if you had forgotten about the plan you both made for today's evening. 

"you know what" Sevika grumbled into your neck and her hands squeezed your hips "Santa wants to see and open the presents, darling" Sevika said to you in a playfully tone, you giggled and her words. You turned off the tap and turned to meet your wife's gaze. You saw Sevika with her smirk on her face.

You leaned to give her a quick kiss on her lips and then you murmured to her "since Santa Claus is coming I have to prepare, yeah?" and you could feel how Sevika the pressure on your hips tightened. She didn't know what your second outfit for today looked like, let's say it was a little surprise from you to her. 

"Yeah" Sevika said with a grin on her face looking at you "go get ready, sweetie" Sevika murmured and gave your ass a quick spank, smirking while doing so. You just chuckle at that and you left her alone in the kitchen going to your bathroom. 

When you entered the bathroom you pulled out your hidden second outfit for today, It was a red short skirt with white fluff at the bottom, a red top that reached more or less to your tits and left your shoulders open, a red, see-through lace bra and you didn't have any underwear in this set - on purpose, just to surprise your wife.

you took off your clothes and put on this outfit, your hair was loose and your previous makeup remained, although you wouldn't be surprised if it was ruined tonight. you put on your Santa hat and left the bathroom. you went to your bedroom and your gaze immediately went to Sevika, she was sitting on your bed with a smirk on her face. She really did that. She was wearing her Santa Claus costume (without the beard 'cause how would she make out with you in that?) and the Santa hat she put on her head.

 She sat on your bed with her legs apart as if to say 'I'm waiting only for you, my love'. Lets say that Sevika wasn't even better than you, her gaze moved from your head to your feet over your figure, lingering on your attributes a little longer than she needed. "damn, baby" sevika said and your eyes locked up in a eye contact "you look fucking stunning and beautiful" she said to you and you smiled at her words. 

"you too, my santa-vika" you replied to her with a smile and she couldn't stop herself and she laugh at it "fuck, come here" sevika groaned and you with a smirk on your face walked up to her. Sevika didn't hold back and immediately pulled you into her lap, pressing your body against hers.

You wrap your arms around Sevika's neck and Sevika's hand wanders to grab your hips. You both leaned and your lips captured in a soft kiss but the longer you kissed, the more your kiss became hot, fast, tender and possessive. You moaned into Sevika's lips as her hand wandered under your skirt and she captured both of your buttchecks and squeezed them. 

Sevika broke the kiss to look at you with her eyebrow up as her hands were all over your butt "you don't have any underwear?" Sevika asked as she didn't feel any underwear under your skirt. You smiled and shrugged "Merry Christmas" you said in a playfully tone and Sevika gave you a spank and her eyes were nothing more than a mixture of desire and need.

"Fucking god, I love you" Sevika murmured and before you could respond to her, she captured your lips in a wet, hot kiss dominating your mouth. She was sloppy, her tongue pushed down your throat tasting you and she dominated your mouth while her hands roamed your body. 

Her lips went down to your neck and she started to suck at your neck and it made you moan. She left a few hickeys on your neck, claiming you as her and she started to pilling your red top. "Take this off" Sevika murmured, you lifted your arms up and she took off your red top and it wasn't long after that when her hands wandered to your bra and she took it off just as quickly, throwing it on the floor.

Sevika's lips meet with your chest and she licks one of your breasts and then she wraps her mouth around your nipple. A moan left from your lips and you tugged your wife by her hairs "vika" you whimpered. Sevika smirked as she ran her tongue over your nipple. She left your nipple with a pop only to move her mouth to your other nipple and start sucking on it.

After a moment her lips left your nipple, with a smirk she looked up into your eyes "were you a good girl this year, baby?" Sevika asked you and you playfully rolled your eyes. "I guess that I was" you replied to her, Sevika hummed and she leaned closer to your ear "yeah? if that 's so, I'll have to reward you, won't I?" Sevika murmured into your ear with her low, sexy voice and you moaned at it. Sevika smirk widened at your moan and her hand squeezed your hips. "I take it as a yes, darling"

"Take off my pants" Sevika said to you and you got off her lap and you raked off her red, Santa Claus pants. When you took off her pants, you saw a strap-on,sinewy, thick, 7 inches long and it had the color of her skin. "you like it, baby?" Sevika asked you and you nodded "yeah, very much" you replied to her. 

As you stand Sevika wrapped her muscular arms around you and threw you on the bed so that she was behind you and you were lying on your stomach. "Ass up, pretty" sevika murmured to you with a grin on her face. She placed her hands on your hips and helped you to lift your hips up so your butt was up. 

Sevika groaned at the sight of you, on your knees in front of her with your ass up while being in your pretty, little red skirt "god damn" sevika cursed under her breath. She gave you a smack on your butt and she squeezed it, "Sevika-" you whined.

Sevika leaned closer to you, so her chest was pressed to your back and her mouth was close to your ear. "since you've been a good girl this years, I'm gonna reward you" Sevika started to talk as her hand grabbed her strap-on and wrapped her hand around it "with my cock" Sevika added and her voice lowed "and you'll gonna take it like the good girl you are" she finished and you could feel how the warm feeling moved over your body and you moaned, clutching with your hands at the blankets beneath you. 

"y-yes" you whined to your wife, you suddenly felt a sudden cold as Sevika lifted herself up in a straight position. Her gaze moved over you again, admiring the sight of you in front of her, one more time. 

Sevika placed a silicone cock in front of your hole "I hope you're ready" Sevika said to you and without hesitation she slipped the strap into your clit. You moaned at the feeling and squeezed a pillow that was close to you "fuck, fuck" you moaned as you adjusted to the size of Sevika's cock. 

After a few moments Sevika started to move her hips back and forth, pulling the strap into you in a slow motion. but it wasn't that long until she started to move faster and the strap-on was kissing your sweet spot.

Every time Sevika pounded into you, moans leaving your mouth, your hands squeezed the bedsheet under you. "you're doing so good, baby" Sevika groaned as she was digging into you. you moaned at her words and you rolled your eyes back.

 "it's-…so, so good, s-sev!" you moaned and you tightened even more your hands on the sheets as sevika started to move even her hips faster wanting to make you come. "I know, you're taking my cock so well" Sevika said to you and a moan left her mouth as her eyes were locked at your half-naked body in the red skirt. She gave your ass a quick spank, you whimpered at it and she placed her hands again on your hips, holding them tightly as she pounded into you.  

"vika" you moaned your wife's name as the feeling of your upcoming orgasm started to push you even harder and the "i'm close" you whimpered and sevika didn't stop her movements. she grinned at your words "you gonna cum on my dick, baby?" Sevika murmured to you and her gaze fell down where your bodies were merged and the strap-on was in you. you groaned as Sevika squeezed your hips 

in the next few thrusts your climax hit you and you moaned loudly as you came, arching your back and your thighs quivering. soon after, sevika also reached her peak of pleasure, cumming with you, and slowly slowed her thrusts into you. soon sevika stopped moving her hips and the two of you were silent as you both caught your breath coming down from the high. 

sevika leaned towards you and wrapped her arms around you, she placed a few gentle kisses on your shoulder and her upper part of the Santa Claus costume covered you a little. her silhouette and clothing gave you a little warmth. you sighed softly and you closed your eyes, coming down from the pleasure. "I love you" Sevika said to you in a soft voice and she placed another kiss but this time on the back of your neck, you smiled gently at her words "I love you too" you responded to her, happily being in her embrace.

• taglist: @abbyslvrrr @noacinno @nytloq @l0vel3tterl0ver @pizzabbs @dvrkhcld @sannyangel89 @moondient

[disastr0]

So I found out I have an autoimmune disorder. One that, until 2023, only had one medication that worked for it: Humira. Humira is the most expensive medication in the United states (on average). For me it would have been about $7,000/month. The US average is apparently over $9,000/month, which is fucking insane. The reason it costs that much? For the longest time it was the only option for a long list of autoimmune disorders.

In 2023 some biosimilars finally were allowed to come out. I'm on amjevita. It is $6,000/month. They cannot charge less because they have to pay Humira's company per dose. It's not even the same exact medication, it just acts similarly in the body. If I didn't have insurance, it'd be more than $72,000 per year. That's almost 2x more than the majority of individual Americans make per year.

With last years work insurance, it was only $40 per month. This years? It woulda been just the low low price of $3,000 per month. Wowie! Instead, I ended up doing a plan where insurance pays nothing until you pay $5,150 on medical stuff, then everything else is covered in full. I maxed that out in January. I finally paid off all five thousand one hundred and fifty dollars in November. As soon as January starts I'll need to do it all over again. Oh, and to top it off, last January they only sent me 2 of my 4 shots for the month. And that still maxed out my deductible.

I'm at risk of being laid off. If I get laid off? Well, I'm lucky as hell that my disorder isn't life threatening. I already know what happens if I'm off it for a month, because insurance fucked up twice. I slowly become in more and more pain, to the point where I was crying out while driving home from work. To the point where I had to use a cane again. To the point where I suddenly got a new skin disorder because I was off of it for too long. And that doesn't scratch the surface. Y'know what the problem was? The prescription was for 4 shots over a 28 day period, and they had it as a 30 day period. That tiny number discrepancy made it so I couldn't have my meds and got a new skin disorder.

And yet despite all of this I am fortunate to be able to fucking afford the luxury of being able to exist with less pain.

I fucking hate the US healthcare system. I fucking hate insurance.

I’ve got my tumblr inbox turned off so I really have to commend the person who actually emailed me to let me know they don’t like the things I’ve posted about the UnitedHealth CEO being murdered on their commitment to their beliefs.

But seen as how you emailed me from a dud email that appears to be bouncing back replies and I really wanted to address something you said to me about violence begetting violence:

My migraine medication, the medication I was given for my debilitating neurological disease that has gotten so bad I spent most of this year actively suicidal, costs $1300 a month.

My insurance covered it. But only because my doctors office went to fucking war for me because I’m a high anaphylaxis risk for the drugs the insurance wanted me to try.

Because that’s the thing.

My doctors knew, based on my documented medical history, I likely wouldn’t be a good fit for the “first line” of preventative migraine drugs, but because of insurance, I had to be given drugs that were contradictory to my other life threatening conditions, because otherwise insurance wouldn’t cover anything else.

I failed them. Spectacularly and with an anaphylactic reaction to one of them. And I was still warned insurance would fight me because I hadn’t tried the remaining drug they wanted me to try.

A drug which I would have to take in an ER waiting room because my mast cell disease is unpredictable but insurance wouldn’t cover in-patient treatment to let me try it safely under medical supervision.

Is that not violence?

Were all the times I was denied coverage for vital and necessary procedures that could have prevented my disabilities from worsening not violence?

Maybe not in the sense you mean. But I assure you it felt very much like violence to me.

Do I condone murder? No, obviously. But I’m also sick and tired of people pretending that what is happening to the American people every day isn’t eugenics through class warfare.

Violence begets violence.

It sure fucking does.

Maybe these insurance companies should have thought of that first.

[chosove]

18+ mdni | hockey player toru

an. *GUNSHOTS* *EXPLOSIONS* *CUMSHOTS* HEAVYYY inspo from this one iwaoi ff i read on ao3 in 2021. shit was so good its still in my head, if anyone knows the name lmk so i can cred properly! they did it better yall

pairing: NHL satoru gojo x interviewer f!reader

this was the interview of your career. the one that would take you from a nobody to the columnist you’ve always wanted to be. of course you were grateful, who wouldn’t be ecstatic to speak to gojo “the strongest” satoru, Jujutsu Slapshots newest star. from his innate talent to unreal looks, it’s no wonder gojo satoru was everyone’s recent obsession, including yours. this was all that was running through your mind as you stared at the tall man sitting in front of you, his lanky legs stretching out before moving to tap your foot with his, trying to get your attention.

“as much as i love when pretty girls stare at me, we should probably start with the questions right?”

finally hearing his voice broke you out of your trance, red blossoming on your cheeks when you realized just how long you were staring at him. “r-right! sorry, um” you flipped through your notebook, scrambling to find something- anything from the hundreds of questions you had for him. opening up a random page, you began reading without processing any of the words. “gojo, a lot of your fans praise your skills on the rink, but are curious about what you’re like outside the game. do you keep up your fierce persona, or is that reserved for your opponents?”

your words tumbled out a mile a minute, mouth slightly gaping when you finally looked up at the man you were interviewing, only to find him already staring at you, trademark charming smile plastered on his face. “that’s a good question…” he began, hand gripping his chin as he pretended to think deeply. “honestly im just a regular guy. i like sweet treats and don’t like doing anything on days off. i’m only ‘fierce’ as you would say when im talking to a girl for example.”

your hands were jotting down his words rapidly, the sly confession of his only registering after a few seconds. “o-oh! and um…what would you say is the type of girl you go after?”

he quirked a brow at this, head tilted to the side as he looked at you with those intense ocean eyes. “is this a question for on-the-rink gojo satoru or boring, everyday ‘toru?”

you giggled at his phrasing, wondering how to proceed. if it was any other girl they’d jump at this opening to lay it on thick (and you were tempted), but just to test the waters you decided to take it easy. “is it okay if i say both?”

gojo nodded, never breaking eye contact with you even when you looked away, unable to hold his strong stare. “well, the star of Jujutsu Slapshots would say anyone who can balance me out but still match my energy. i want someone to ground me but keep up with me if we’re at a carnival, y’know?”

you nodded, intently following his statement and subconsciously comparing yourself to each of his requirements. “regular me though, would say pretty girls like you who have my jersey number on their water bottle have me wrapped around their finger.”

your head shot up at the rest of his statement, finally maintaining eye contact for more than a few seconds. holy shit, was this your chance? what if he was just being polite and you were about to ruin the whole vibe…worth a shot though, right?

“i-is that so? ‘cause for girls like me, our ideal type is a hockey player named gojo satoru”

he chuckled at your response, shaking his head before standing up and moving towards you. “looks like we’re both in luck then. why dont we take a break now? all this talking has me really thirsty.”

looking up at him like this made you realize maybe you were in over your head, he was above you in every way including physically right now. maybe if you focused on it a bit longer, you’d find it in you to decline the offer to see his actual jersey that just so happened to be in his bedroom. maybe you’d say no to his offer of trying it on.

who were you kidding? you would never be strong enough to deny that. maybe that was the same reason you didnt stop him from lying you on his bed, slipping off your pants because ‘you’d look so much better in just my jersey’. and since you were at it, you could blame that same part of yourself for obediently spreading your legs when he asked- he was just so thirsty, who were you to deny him?

“o-oh fuck, gojo” you whined as he wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking before flicking his tongue against it.

“call me ‘toru pretty girl, think we’re past the formalities yeah?” he rasped, fingers coming up to pump in and out of you as he traced the letters of his name against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

he’d already pulled 2 orgasms out of you, swallowing down every drop of your essence while grinding his hips against his bed harshly, borderline fucking his mattress as he overstimulated you. “don’ have anything l-left ‘toru” your voice cried out, tears spilling from your eyes as your hips crashed against his face despite your protests.

pushing his fingers deeper, he curled them to reach all the spots you never could, repeating the movement until he found that spot that left you gasping for air. “thereeeee she is, pussy’s dripping all over me but ya have nothin’ left?” satoru laughed ay the irony of your words, relishing in the way he seemed to memorize sll the sensitive parts in your body this fast. “go ahead n’ cry pretty, but don’t lie to me”

your voice cried out a sound you thought was his name, but it was hard to be sure at this point. with how rapidly he was fingerfucking you while his mouth attacked your clit, you weren’t sure you’d ever produce a coherent word again. it didnt take long until you were once again on the edge of cumming, hands flying to his head as you desperately humped against his face. satoru didn’t complain though, he’d die happily if it was between your legs.

“c-cummin…’toru i c-can feel ngh”

‘that’s right princess, cream all over my fuckin’ fingers, know how bad your pussy needs this yeah?” his muffled voice spoke into your cunt, impoosibly apeeding up his ministrations until he watched your body convulse against him, a spray of clear liquid shooting out of your pussy.

riding out your orgasm against his tongue, you finally flopped back and attempted to catch your breath, eyes going wide when you felt his hands pull his jersey up to expose your tits.

“think ya can squirt again for me, but on my cock this time?”

[mallowsweetmiri]

Need you to continue Best Friend! Fred please… PLEASE… I am begging on my knees… You write so well… I will be waiting right here… Oh how I yearn for Best Friend! Fred…

Merry Christmas sluts ❤️

—————————————————————————

Bestfriend!Fred with no boundaries teaches you how to have sex pt 2

summary: its the day after you asked Fred to teach you about sex, and he's keeping up on his promise.

warnings: smut, cursing

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

It wasn’t unusual for you to think about Fred first thing in the morning. You often walked to breakfast with the twins and saw him within your classes on a daily basis. But it was unusual to wake up with your panties completely soaked while thinking about him. Was this something that happened the morning after, or did you just not shower well enough after last night?

Either way, you ended up taking a very cold shower before breakfast. By the time you came down to the common room, Fred and George were waiting by the couches. Fred smiled as he watched you come down the stairs.

“Good morning, lovely,” Fred said as you approached them. He pulled you under his arms as the three of you started towards the exit.

“Good morning,” you smiled, happy to start another day by your best friends side.

“What am I, a flobberworm?” George scoffed sarcastically from behind. You rolled your eyes playfully and looked back at him.

“Good morning to you too, George,” you teased, walking through the portrait hole. The day seemed much brighter in the halls, and it looked surprisingly nice out. The three of you walked into the Great Hall and sat down where you normally did, next to Hermione usually at this time of the morning.

"Good morning," she chirped, her head buried in a book.

“Morning, Hermione,” you greeted, taking a seat.

“Whatcha reading there?” The twins sat on the other side of the table.

“Ancient Uses of Mystic Herbs,” she replied, sitting up straighter and flipping her book up to show the cover. “Trying to find something that could help Harry.” You hummed in interest as Hermione sank back into her book. George pulled out a paper and began writing at the bottom.

"What’s that?" you asked, buttering your toast. George smirked and gave you a funny look.

"The Herbology assignment that's due today?" George said questioningly, raising his brows at you. Your brows shot up in response as you remembered the blank paper in your bag.

"I completely forgot about that assignment," you gasped. "Fred, can I please, please copy yours?" You pleaded, sticking your bottom lip out in persuasion. He shot you back an amused look as he gathered sausages onto his plate.

"Y/N, you're usually such a good student,” he teased, shaking his head at you in disapproval. “Were you distracted yesterday?” You sharpened your eyes at him and he laughed, passing you his paper. You felt your cheeks heat up. At least he was letting you copy off of him.

"You're too nice to her, Freddie," George joked, shaking his head at him.

"Ah, it's the least I can do for my best friend," Freddie grinned, leaning over the table to pinch your cheek. You batted his head away and started furiously copying his work, ignoring George laughing at you. As you copied his work, he filled your mug with tea. Earl grey with a dash of cream, just the way you liked it. By the time breakfast was over, you had finished the assignment and were off to your first class of the day.

The day dragged on per usual. In Herbology, Fred and George rubbed sneezewart on the observation sheets causing multiple students to rush out of class in a fit. You had a few classes without Fred and George, and Ancient Runes was your final class for the day. You stared out the window as dull clouds began to roll in from the forest. You tried to pay attention to Professor Babbling, but her droning voice quickly became background noise. The clouds came in closer to the castle, the sound of thunder rumbling through the windows. Rain storms always made you feel cozy, and you wished class would end so you could curl up in your favorite jumper. It was Fred’s Gryffindor sweatshirt and the memory of its smell reminded you of yesterday. His skin had been so close to you, and while it was comforting, there was something else. A want, a yearning to just press your hips against his. Your head snapped away from the window as your peers began to gather their belongings. You began to do the same, noting the slickness between your thighs. There it was again. You needed to find Fred and ask him what you should do about it. Was it pathetic that you knew virtually nothing about sex? You slung your bag over your shoulder and left the classroom, moving hastily towards Gryffindor. You knew Fred wouldn’t judge you and would actually teach you, that’s why you had asked him in the first place. But would he pity you for barely knowing anything at all?

By the time you got to the tower, it was pouring outside. There was the usual chatter and rough housing in the common room, but your failure to spot Fred had you climbing the stairs to his dorm. You were frustrated and cold and you just wanted to be near your best friend.

When you opened the door after a hurried knock, you were happy to see only Fred in the room. He was laying on his bed reading his book.

"Hi Y/N," he greeted, looking up from his book. "How was class?" You huffed as you moved towards his closet, pulling his hoodie out and slipping it on over your head.

"It was terrible," you pouted, coming over to his bed. Fred put his book down and opened his arms to you. You fell gladly into his chest.

"Why was it terrible love?" Fred mumbled into your hair. You groaned and buried yourself deeper into him.

"It's just..." you hesitated, always losing the courage to talk about stuff like this.

"Is it about yesterday?" Fred asked, his hand petting the back of your head. He always knew what you were thinking and you were relieved that he had caught on.

"Yes," you fussed, sitting up from his grasp. Fred huffed out a chuckle and followed suit. "It's just that, I can't stop thinking about it, y'know?"

"Oh, I know," Fred mumbled. You continued on with your ramblings.

"It's like I'm in class and I'm just distracted," you explained, your hands gesturing wildly. "And my underwear has been wet for hours. How do I make it stop?" Fred swallowed and dropped his gaze to your skirt.

"Darling, it's not something you can just stop," Fred explained, his eyes coming back up to yours. "Your body just wants more." You pursed your lips as you pondered this for a second, listening to the rain pelt against the window. Maybe you really did want more...

"I want to go all the way," you declared, sitting up straight and nodding your head. Fred couldn't help but smiled at your naivety.

"You want to go 'all the way'?" Fred chuckled, teasing your choice of words. He found this entire situation charming.

"Yes," you huffed defiantly. "I want you to have sex with me." Fred chuckled in disbelief and ran his hands through his hair. Your bold innocence made his head spin.

"It's going to hurt," Fred warned, trying his best to properly inform you before you made the decision to lose your virginity. He wouldn't be able to say no to you.

"Okay," you nodded, your fingers playing with the hem of your sock. "What else?"

"You might bleed," he said. "And it might not feel good at all this time." Your brows furrowed.

"But everybody says sex feels amazing?" You questioned, tilting your head. Freds half smile made you heart skip. That was new.

"It does," he chuckled, his eyes falling to your lips for a moment. "But it might be uncomfortable your first time. Especially with me,” he teased. You rolled your eyes at his insinuation and he laughed again. "I'm serious, Y/N. I don't want you to do something you don't want to do." This was clearly the wrong thing to say as you leaned forward to roughly grasp his shoulders.

"Fred, I want this. I want to know what it feels like and there's nobody else on this entire planet I trust more than you," you stated, gripping his shoulders as he watched your declaration.

"Well if I'm going to fuck you we need to kiss first," he grinned cheekily, watching the heat rise up to your cheeks.

"Oh, shut the fuck up," you huffed, finding the courage to lean forward to kiss him. He laughed into the kiss but gladly gripped your hips in return, his mouth moving in tandem. You kissed him greedily, your body moving on its own. Fred swept you onto your back, crawling over your without breaking the kiss. Within seconds, he had taken the control back from you, his kiss melting away your sudden burst of courage. He clearly knew what he was doing and you didn't put up a fight for dominance. The ache in your core surged as his knee pried open your legs, causing a moan to leave your lips. You felt more confident this time, less embarrassed of your noises of ecstasy as Fred's knee applied a much needed pressure to your cunt. You let your hands grip his hair, then run down his back. You felt him groan and it made you want to do it again. You were surprised at your self assurance, and even more surprised that you seemed to have to same effect on Fred that he had on you. His teeth bit softly into your neck in a change of pace.

"Fred," you moaned instinctively, you back arching off the mattress against your will. He didn't stop, instead tearing off your sweatshirt. This prompted the two of you to hastily take off all your clothes, only stopping to laugh when your hand accidentally whacked Fred in the face. The laughter faded as he came forward again, this time kissing you with such tenderness, you thought you were melting back into the mattress.

Fred was hopeless; he had been ruined since yesterday. He knew from the moment he kissed you that he'd been a complete fool. All day he'd been trying to convince himself otherwise, that he didn't harbor any romantic feelings towards you and you were still just his bestfriend. He wasn't going to bother lying to himself any longer. He was hopelessly in love with you.

His kiss began to trail down your neck again, then to your breast, then down your navel. Fred wanted to devour you. He wanted to watch as you came again for him. It drove him crazy that he was the only person to watch you unravel.

"F-Fred," you breathed, your hands tugging at his hair. "What are you doing?" His brown eyes peered up at you as he pressed his mouth into your thigh, making your hips buck.

"Before you have sex, we need to get you nice and wet for me darling," he breathed, kissing closer to your cunt. His fingers ran up your slit and you shivered. "Although, it doesn't seem like you need much help." You didn't have time to respond before he pressed a kiss into your clit, effectively sucking the rest of the air out of your lungs. You shuddered repeatedly as he licked gently on your sensitive clit. It felt so different from his fingers, so wet and warm. It took you a moment in your daze to realize he was moaning into your pussy, greedily lapping at your clit and pushing his tongue inside you. Fred wasn't even trying to hold himself back, his arms wrapping underneath you thighs and pulling you into his face. You tried to press him off of you, embarrassed at how close he was to you heat, but his grip won over you. His tongue lapped in circle, his gentle suck and kiss pulling terrible noises from your mouth. With every movement, the pressures built up inside you, sensation washing over you as you rocked your hips against his tongue. It felt like only a minute had passed when the tightness in your core suddenly snapped.

"Oh, fuck-" you cried as you came unexpectedly onto his tongue, the waves of intense pleasure taking away your ability to breathe. He sighed deeply as he lapped it all up, his grip not loosening for a second. It was only when he felt your legs kicking and your needy pleas for him that he gave one last gentle kiss to you clit. You stared at him breathlessly, unsure of what to say after you just came all over your bestfriends face. Luckily for you, Fred didn't miss a beat.

"You taste so fucking good," Fred praised, kissing up your stomach as you caught your breath. “You’re so good at this Y/N. Did that feel good?" He asked, coming up to hover over your face and brush the sweaty strands of hair off your face. You nodded shyly as you breathed, leaning up to catch his lips in a kiss. He chuckled as he accepted your kiss before saying, "Use your words, darling."

"Yes," you panted, pulling the back of his head down towards you. "That felt so good, Freddie." Fred groaned as his mouth came down to savor your kiss. You stayed like this for a while, kissing as Fred gently pressed his hips into yours. After a while, your hips began to rock with his, naturally moving with the rhythm he had set. There was nothing between the two of you besides his thin boxers, and you could feel his hard length rubbing against you. Occasionally, his tip would catch your entrance, and the pressure made the both of you groan.

"I'm ready," you mumbled into his lips, the two of you unable to break your kiss. He hummed into your lips and kissed you hard for a few more second before he pried himself off of you. He kneeled over you, freeing himself from his boxers with a slap. Your mouth parted slightly at the sight of him, and you were starting to believe him when he said it might hurt. His smile was more adoring than teasing as he watched you gape at his size. You watched breathlessly as he stroked himself a few times before coming back over you.

"Are you sure?" He asked once more, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, spreading your slickness. You weren't sure you could even speak as you watched him do this, you were mesmerized.

"Yes," you breathed, you gaze coming back up to his. His eyes searched your face for any hesitation, and when he found none, he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Just tell me if you want to stop," he soothed, brushing your fallen hair behind your ear. You nodded and tightened your grip on the back of his neck. He pressed a kiss to your lips and pushed himself inside of you.

Fred felt like an idiot as he exhaled into the kiss, his thumb rubbing gently across your cheek. He couldn't believe he didn't realize how much he liked you, how much he loved you. He wanted to swallow you whole. He wished that you knew how much this meant to him, but he knew you were too distracted to be thinking about anything else but his cock inside your tight pussy for the first time. Fuck.

"How does it feel, love," Fred asked, his voice nothing but a raspy whisper. You buried your face into his neck and whined.

"Just keep going," you whispered. "Please." Fred tried not to groan at your pleading as he pulled back again. He knew it must hurt for you, you were so tight. It was taking everything inside of him not to groan uncontrollably and push himself fully inside of you, you felt so good. His lips fell to your neck and left soothing kisses as he pushed himself into you again, this time going deeper. He felt your breath hitch into his neck as your eyes clamped shut. Fred's fingers gripped the sheets for his life.

"Just one more, darling. You’re doing so good," Fred muttered, pulling back gently once more. You nodded into his neck, making some sort of noise of assurance. With a final push, Fred bottomed out and let out an irrepressible moan. You cried again, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you felt his full length. He stayed like this for a moment, his lips encouraging you to return his kiss. You obliged and felt yourself relax, the feeling of his lips against yours softening your face. After a moment you let out a soft moan, the fullness inside of you finally satisfying what you thought would be a never ending ache. You moaned again into his kiss, this time louder as he became less controlled, his mouth eagerly devouring your own.

"It feels better now," you whispered into the kiss. Fred hummed and began to move with small and gentle pumps, letting you get used to his size. Fred's fingers were losing circulation as he gripped the bedsheets in an attempt to control himself from fucking you senseless. He fit perfectly inside you, and your breathy whimpers and pants were sending him over the edge. He made a critical mistake by pulling back to watch you as he picked up his pace, your watery eyes and swollen lips looked like heaven.

"Fuck, Y/N," he grunted, fully moving with his entire length at this point. "I'm not going to last long." You didn't seem to be able to form any coherent words besides your whines so you just nodded instead, overwhelmed by the unexpected knot forming in your stomach. He watched your eyes as he thrust into you over and over again, the pleasure on your face growing with each movement. His hand gripped your waist as he drove himself into you at his full capability for the final few thrusts. He couldn't help himself and from the noises you were making, you seemed to enjoy it. "Fuck," Fred whispered as he pulled out of you, pumping his cock a few times as he came on the sheets next to you. You watched in awe as he spurted hot liquid onto the bed, some of it falling onto the side of your hips. It made you buck you hips as the emptiness began to creep up, his warm cum dripping teasingly down your side. Fred finished and promptly smothered you in kisses, the two of you groaning as you rode out the last moments of euphoria with each other. Breathless and spent, Fred rolled off of you and pulled you in his chest.

"Are you okay, my love?" He asked, kissing the top of your head and your ears and your cheeks. You giggled and sighed into his kisses, coming up to place one onto his lips.

"Yes," you sighed. "More than okay." Fred smiled and huffed out a laugh, burying his face into you neck as his arms pulled you in tighter. You both sighed contentedly and rested like this for a moment, wetness and warmth in between your bodies.

"We need to get you cleaned up," Fred hushed, reaching over to his bedside to grab his wand. He quickly cleaned up the bed before moving to you, carefully casting the proper charms to get you clean before doing himself. "You should definitely use the bathroom soon and shower before you go to sleep tonight, love." Fred pressed a kiss to your lips again before pulling his sweatshirt over your head and finding you a fresh pair of his boxers to slip up your legs before pulling his sweats back on.

"Mmm," you groaned, closing your eyes and falling back onto his pillow. You were sapped. Fred chuckled and came to join you again, wrapping himself around you.

"Are you listening, love?" Fred teased, rubbing your back with his soft and sturdy hands.

"Mmm," you hummed again, burying yourself deeper into his chest, relishing in his comfort. He huffed out a laugh and buried himself back into your neck.

"Well, I'm getting you up in a moment to use the bathroom," he said, pressing a kiss into the fabric on your shoulders. "And you're not getting out of it. I'm not going to succumb to your cute little noises." You murmured again into his chest and smiled when this made him laugh.

"Can we do this again?" You asked quietly, almost hoping he hadn't heard you. He chortled at your question.

"Yes. Yes, we can do this again."

[thekaratcake-blog]

Also if we're going to play this game

1. These people all did what they did in the name of power, not atheism, not because of "atheistic ideology" because of power-hungry ideology which is actually encouraged in the bible, yknow, take the Holy lands, spread the word by the sword?

2. The nazis, just about universally considered the most evil people ever, were not only a Christian group but were put in power by Christian people, allied first with the Catholic Church, wore "god with us" on their belts, and I wonder why their most famously targeted group was a religious group that catholics are particularly known for hating? They fought in the name of religion, the crusades are supported by the bible, and as an African American you should know that slavery was upheld with the bible, which explicitly endorses slavery, exodus 21, Paul and a few places in leviticus

Oh and just to add on to that, even if you blamed it on just corrupt popes, that slaughter and rape and murder of the crusades (crusades being entirely justifiable biblically btw), the people doing that, what were they doing that in the name of? Why did they think that was okay? What was making them unafraid of death and consequences as they sexually abused children? (Something the bible also doesn't condemn and may even have encouraged during the slaughter of the caananites)

Why, pray tell, did they do that?

Also obviously, Hitler wasn't an atheist just a weird brand of Christian that was arguably not really Christian? Very different from his movement tho and he was Christian most of his life, I can't be bothered checking the rest but regardless, they used religious tactics to place themselves as gods to their people anyway

But yeah like the Catholic Church literally celebrated Hitler's birthday for a while

FInal edit and addition, athiestic ideaology doesn't exist, athiesm is literally just "I don't believe in a literal god" that is it, nothing else, no extra baggage, that is it, you're litereally just saying "ideaologies that don't happen to be my own"

[gothcsz]

December | Pornstar!Javier Peña x Fem!Reader | Part 6 of Unscripted Desire | ~16k wc | Series Masterlist | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Your winter getaway with Javier.

Tags: alternating pov, javi is having an identity crisis, established relationship, fluff (i cringe), romance (still cringing), smut (no longer cringing), jealous!javi, oh no the triple frontier boys are here, oral (m&f), p in v sex, once again: javi is clipped, filming a sex tape, dirty porn talk, hot tub sex, pussy/dick pronouns, javi puts you in a headlock (i've been influenced by all the headlock fics also stream headlock by imogen heap), breath control play, squirting, clit stimulation, no use of y/n, reader has some vague physical descriptions (mid-sized, curvy, hair that can have fingers run through), any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay thx.

A/N: happy holidays ❄️ i wanted to do something fun for the season and to thank everyone who has supported this story so far! i love you guys 🩵 as always, thank you @persephone-girl for reading over bits of this and being my emotional support hehe

You’ve barely shut the door when a loud, frustrated “Fuck!” echoes through your apartment, followed by the unmistakable clatter of things hitting the floor. Your brows knit together as you toss your keys into the bowl by the entrance and hang your bag on the back of a kitchen chair.

The sight waiting for you confirms your suspicions: your very hot, very frustrated boyfriend is pacing in the middle of the room, his broad shoulders tight with tension. Scattered across the coffee table and floor around him are puzzle pieces.

“Javi,” you say, crossing your arms as you take in the scene. “What’s going on?”

He stops mid-stride, scowling down at the pieces as though they’ve personally insulted him. “The fucking puzzle is broken,” he gestures angrily toward the mess.

You blink at him, biting back a grin. “Yeah, that’s kind of the point. You have to put it back together.” Your voice lilts with playful teasing, hoping to lighten the mood he is in.

He shoots you a look that’s equal parts annoyed and sheepish. Stepping forward, you place yourself squarely in his path, wrapping your arms around his waist.

He’s got no choice but to halt his pacing, and after a moment, his arms drop heavily around you. You can feel the frustration draining out of him like air from a balloon.

“Estoy volviéndome loco, nena.” His chest rises and falls in a heavy exhale, hands instinctively finding their place on your lower back. 

You look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. It’s hard not to get lost in his good looks—those dark, soulful eyes, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his hair falls perfectly so, no matter how much he’s been raking his fingers through it.

He could be pissed at the entire world, and he’d still be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen.

He told you he was done with porn, and he meant it. It didn’t happen all at once, he stuck to solo work until he lost the passion for it entirely before finally cutting ties with his agent and declaring himself “retired.”

The checks will keep coming, sure, but they aren’t a permanent safety net. That left your boyfriend at a crossroads, staring down the daunting question of what came next.

“Fuck, I don’t know. What else am I even good at?”

Now, Pornstar Javier Peña is just… Javi. Without the glitz and veneer of his former life, he’s a bit of a mess, honestly. A hot mess, sure, but a mess all the same.

He spends most of his days drifting between your apartment and his place, and more often than not, it’s your bed he ends up in. Sometimes he’s sprawled on the couch, lazily surfing through the channels, other times he’s fast asleep, limbs tangled in your sheets, his brow furrowed even while dreaming.

It’s like he’s waiting for the pieces of himself to fall into place but has no idea where to start.

You have, actually, tried helping him find new interests, with mixed results.

Cooking classes? A bust—too many rules and timers for someone who likes to work off instinct. Hiking? Not his thing, and you’d barely made it halfway up the trail before he declared he needed a cold beer and a hot shower. Pottery seemed promising for about five minutes before a poorly shaped bowl sent him muttering a string of Spanish curses under his breath and he quit then and there.

It’s not that he’s… bad at these things, necessarily, but none of them feel true to him.

“Baby, you’re not going to figure out who you are overnight. It takes time,” you murmur, tilting your head up to press a kiss to the tip of his chin, the roughness of his stubble brushing against your lips.

He grumbles. “I’m impatient.”

“I noticed,” you tease, a giggle slipping out as your hands sneak under his shirt. Your fingers trail along his ribs, stroking the warm, solid muscle there. The quiet hum of satisfaction you let out isn’t for his benefit—it’s for you. He feels so damn good under your touch, like he was built to be admired.

Javier shifts slightly, straightening up as if your hands have hit a reset button on his mood. “How was your day?”

You started a new job with the camera crew on an actual film set, and it’s a sweet gig, the opportunity kind of landing in your lap out of nowhere. Someone you knew from college reached out, and the pay was too good to pass up, even if the work itself wasn’t all that different from what you’ve done on porn sets.

Less dicks and tits, but the same technical work. When you’re not on set, you’re still clinging to the comfort of your shifts at Lucky’s. 

You shrug lightly, nuzzling into him. “Same as always. Nothing too exciting. But I’m glad I don’t have to work the bar tonight. Maybe I can help you with that puzzle.” You tease.

“Or…” His tone shifts so quickly it’s almost dizzying—warm and doting one second, low and sinful the next. His hands drift south, firmly gripping your ass and giving it a harsh squeeze

“Or?” you repeat, your arousal flaring.

That’s all the invitation he needs.

In no time, you find yourself naked and sprawled against the coffee table, the surface pressing into your back while scattered puzzle pieces stick to your damp skin. But none of that matters—not when Javier is between your legs, his broad shoulders holding you open like a prize only he gets to claim.

His mouth is buried in your pussy, wet and eager tongue moving with a purpose that has your thighs trembling. He laps at you expertly, each flick and thrust inside your cunt dragging whimpers out of you, your body singing under his touch.

Javier groans, the sound vibrating against your pussy. “You taste so,” kiss, “fucking,” lick, “good,” suck. Your back arches and you sob his name loudly, eyes fluttering close at how good he is at eating you out.

No matter how many times he does it, he somehow manages to surpass the time before. Men like Javier are a rare thing, and you’re annoyed at yourself for not succumbing to him earlier. You just had to prove a fucking point.

He pulls back just enough to lick and bite at your inner thigh, trying to control himself from devouring you whole, before diving back in. His hands keep you pinned to the edge of the table as you shake uncontrollably in his grasp.

Every obscene noise he makes is matched by the wet, filthy sounds of his tongue working you over and you feel the pressure winding tighter and tighter. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling as you gasp his name, and the pleased growl he gives in response sends you careening over.

He doesn’t stop, not until your body shudders and you’re left panting, your limbs heavy and boneless. When he finally lifts his head, mustache damp and lips glistening, he’s looking at you with that satisfied smirk you’ve grown accustomed to seeing.

“Fuck, I could stay down here for hours.” His voice tapers off into a groan and he doesn’t wait for a reply before pressing soft kisses along your drenched folds, letting his teeth scrape ever so lightly against your sensitive flesh. Then his tongue, broad and sinful, drags a slow, torturous stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“You could… if you wanted to,” you pant, your voice barely above a whisper as your body gears up for even more pleasure. You pull him closer, grinding your hips against his face, feeling the delicious pressure of his nose pressing against your swollen nub.

Javier lets you take what you need, his large hands gripping your thighs to hold you steady while his tongue thrusts back inside, exploring every fluttering inch. His curved nose rubs against your clit with each motion, sending you into a fucking frenzy.

You’re shameless, unabashedly humping his face, chasing the high only he can give you. And he loves it—thrives on it—his tongue relentless as it maps out every curve and crevice of your pussy. The slick, creamy mess makes it easier for you to move, his grunts and your mewling cries swirling together.

“Javi, I want to come on your cock—oh fuck!” The words tumble out before you can stop them, and his answer is a wicked nip of his teeth against your labia, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

“You will, nena,” he murmurs, his voice slurred with lust as he adjusts your legs, planting your feet at the edge of the table. He spreads you open obscenely, his dark eyes gleaming as he takes in the sight of your wet pussy laid bare for him. “But first, you’re gonna come all over my tongue again. Puta madre, you’re so fucking hot.”

His tongue flicks over your pearl rapidly and your back arches off the table as euphoria courses through you. You glance down, locking eyes with him, and the pruriency in his gaze sends you tumbling over the edge.

“Javier, oh shit!” You’re left helpless against the onslaught of his mouth, gushing all over his handsome face as he keens in satisfaction.

You collapse back against the table, your body spent and your mind still buzzing. Javier wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning smugly down at you, his girthy cock hanging heavy between you, droplets of precum squirting from the slit and drizzling down the heated shaft.

Pros of dating a pornstar: He can fuck. Cons of dating a pornstar: He can fuck.

It’s like being in a constant state of delicious ruin, where your needs—both romantic and sexual—are met in ways you never thought possible.

But damn, this man knows how to wear you the fuck out.

Sometimes he gets a little too ambitious. Twisting, bending, and pulling you into positions that make you pause and remind him, between panting breaths, that you’re not as flexible as the women he’s been with before.

“Practice makes perfect, baby,” he always says with that infuriatingly charming grin, right before fucking you so thoroughly that you forget how to breathe.

This time is no different. Javier hovers over you with the kind of dominance that makes your pussy clench, his strong hands gripping your body like he owns it.

Somehow, he’s managed to maneuver you on the awkward height of the coffee table, one leg slung over his broad shoulder while keeping your opposite thigh spread wide.

Then, with a sharp thrust, his fat cock splits you open, stretching your pussy in a way that’s so brutally perfect.

The force of it knocks a loud yelp from your lips, your forearms press against the table for balance. You can’t look away from where your bodies meet, watching in filthy fascination as your sticky folds swallow him whole and spit him back out, his cock glistening with the rich evidence of how turned on you are.

“My fucking god,” he growls, words laden with desperation, “you feel better than you fucking taste.” He spits the words out, literally, a thick bead of saliva falling from his lips to land on your cunt.

Without missing a beat, his thumb moves to your clit, pressing down and swirling in tight circles.

The pressure makes your entire body tense, a strained cry of his name tearing from your throat.

Your tits bounce wildly with every rough thrust, and his dark eyes flicker between the hypnotic sway of your breasts and the lewd sight of your pussy stretched tight around his dick.

Your mouth hangs open, brows furrowed as helpless sounds spill out while his cock punches deep into that one spot that has colorful dots blotching your vision. Your toes curl as the overwhelming feeling builds, your body on the verge of complete surrender.

“Right there, baby—oh fuck me, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” You sound wrecked, like you’ve been possessed by the pleasure he’s giving you. Your back falls flat against the table again, your hands reaching up to squeeze your tits, pulling at your nipples as you let him use your cunt however he wants. 

He deserves it.

Loose curls fall over his face, making him look so sexy while he fucks into you with everything he’s got. His tongue pokes out in concentration, his fingertips dimpling the plush skin of your thighs as he holds you steady. The poor coffee table groans beneath the brutal rhythm, creaking with every hard snap of his hips.

It doesn’t take much more—your body seizes up as you come hard, the orgasm crashing through you so violently that you’re certain you’re going to pass out. Your pussy clamps down around his shaft, milking him for everything he’s worth.

“Fuck, take it,” he groans, his pace faltering as he spills inside you, thick ropes of cum filling your pussy until you swear you can feel it gurgling in your throat. The vicious, overwhelming sensation makes you shudder, your body twitching as his weight settles against you, his cock still buried deep inside your quivering walls.

You feel pulverized, your body humming in content, but all you can think is: God, this man could fuck me to death, and I’d die happy.

Immediately, your calf seizes, the muscle knotting painfully as a piercing cry slices through your throat. Your body jerks involuntarily, hands pressing against Javier’s chest to push him off you.

“Shit, stop— cramp!” you gasp.

Javier freezes, his face instantly morphing from focused lust to deep concern. He pulls out of you carefully, hissing at the feeling, his touch tender as he lowers your trembling leg from his shoulder. “Where? Here?” He’s already massaging the rigid knot in your calf with his strong, calloused hands.

“Yeah—fuck, ow! Right there.” Another pang shoots through you, and you wince, clutching at the edge of the coffee table for stability. “I keep telling you I’m not fit for—ahh, ow!—your crazy-ass positions.”

He huffs a little laugh, though his hands never stop their steady kneading. “It wasn’t that crazy,” he mutters defensively, but one warning glare from you is enough to shut him up.

Once the cramp begins to ease, your body relaxes against the table with a long sigh. Javier’s touch softens, his thumbs now sweeping soothing circles over your calf. He leans down and presses a kiss to the tender muscle, murmuring, “Sorry, nena. Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Your heart swells at his care, and you can’t help but grin as he kisses his way up your body. His lips trace a slow, reverent path—your pelvis, the softness of your belly, the suppleness of each breast, the hollow of your throat. By the time his mouth meets yours, your annoyance is completely forgotten, replaced by a lazy, bubbling affection.

This is the first real kiss he’s given you since you got home, and it’s the kind that melts you from the inside out. You hum against his lips, your tongue tracing the curve of his mouth, savoring the way he tastes like sex and something inherently Javi.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both sit there for a moment, naked and tangled together, his cum still slick between your thighs and smearing against the surface of the table.

“I’ll try to be more considerate next time,” he says, almost teasingly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his chest. “You better, or I’ll start vetoing these gymnastic stunts of yours.”

He chuckles, his eyes dropping briefly to where his cum is trickling from you. A rueful grin spreads across his face as he reaches for the shirt he’d discarded earlier and uses it to clean the mess between your legs.

The simple domesticity of the act makes your chest ache in the best way.

As he finishes, you stretch your arms over your head, your muscles still warm and loose despite the cramp. “I need a shower, some real food... and maybe another round later.”

“Only maybe?” He raises an eyebrow, his dimpled, teasing smile returning.

You hum thoughtfully, your gaze tracing the defined line of his jaw as your finger follows. “If you think sex is gonna be a distraction from the mess in your head, think again.”

“It’s the best distraction,” he mutters. “Would rather make my girl feel good than deal with everything else.”

“And while I’m flattered, baby, it’s not the healthiest thing you can do.”

His expression falters, the cockiness slipping away like a mask being gently peeled back. “I’m fuckin’ terrible at this. Always have been,” he mutters, his hands roaming your body as if touching you might patch together all that’s unraveling inside him.

His palms are warm and firm, one cupping your breast in a gentle squeeze, the other sliding down to rest at your hip.

He kneads and caresses you, almost like you’re the one who needs the comfort instead of him. “I’ve spent so much time doing what I thought people wanted from me. Now I don’t even know what I want.”

“There’s no rush to figure it out, you know. No one’s expecting you to and I promise you’re not the only person that feels this way.”

“Feels like I’ve got nothin’ to show for myself, though. Just a pile of bullshit and a broken puzzle.”

You sit up, drawing his focus to you as your hands grip his toned biceps to steady yourself. “Hey.” Your voice is soft but insistent. “You’ve got more than you think. And I happen to like this version of you—even if he’s a grump.”

A faint smirk breaks through the inner struggle that clouds in his eyes. “Yeah? Even when I’m bein’ a lazy ass?”

“Even then,” you tease, grinning back at him.

His gaze lingers, drinking you in with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. You’re weightless, floating in the way only Javi can make you feel when he kisses you like this.

“I don’t deserve you, you know that?” he murmurs against your lips, his forehead resting against yours.

“It’s always nice to be reminded.”

He rolls his eyes playfully, his teeth catching your lower lip in a gentle bite before he finally lets you go. He stands, offering you his hand to pull you to your feet.

As you wobbly get up, a few puzzle pieces that had clung to your skin fall to the floor, catching both your attention. Javi chuckles, a little more relaxed than before. “Should’ve cleaned those up before spreading you open like that.”

“I feel like there’s a metaphor in there somewhere.”

He turns you gently so he can pluck off the remaining pieces, his hand lingering to deliver a playful slap to your ass which makes you giggle.

“You know,” you say after a beat, glancing at him, “this puzzle thing could be good for you. Builds patience.”

He arches a brow, skepticism written all over his face. “Once again, that isn’t exactly my strong suit, cariño.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Your grin is infectious as you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. “But maybe that’s what you need right now. Something slow. Something that’s just for you. And something that isn’t…” You trail off, eyes darting to the box abandoned on the couch. “A hideous horse puzzle. God, Javi, what even is this? I’d be pissed trying to put it together too.”

A scoff escapes him, sharp and playful, his brown eyes narrowing as he straightens. “First of all, it’s vintage,” he says, the mock defense in his tone making you laugh.

“Vintage? That’s not an excuse.” You’re already stepping back when you see the shift in his stance, the way his hand twitches toward you. “Don’t even think about it.”

But it’s too late. His fingers dart out in an attempt to pinch your side, and you squeal, darting out of reach. The sound of your laughter fills the room, loud and unrestrained as you scramble to keep distance between the two of you. He’s, unsurprisingly, quicker, his footsteps closing behind as he chases you down the hallway.

Just as you reach the bathroom door, his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against his naked body. You’re both breathless, his warm breath fanning against your ear as he holds you close. “Gotcha.”

Your heart pounds, your laughter subsiding into soft, breathy chuckles as you twist to face him. The sparkle in his eyes is undeniable and you let him walk you backwards into the bathroom with the intention of piping you down again before finally letting you shower.

The late afternoon light filters through the half-closed blinds, casting warm, golden stripes across Javier’s bedroom. You’re sprawled on his bed, your legs stretched out, absently flipping through a magazine. 

The quiet creak of the bedroom door catches your attention, and your eyes lift to meet his.

He leans against the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame, arms crossed over his chest. His white t-shirt clings to his torso in a way that makes your thighs rub together, the fabric stretched taut over his solid build. There’s a small grin on his lips as he watches you.

“Hey,” he drawls, finally pushing off the door and crossing the room.

“Hi.”

Without hesitation, he climbs onto the bed, his weight shifting the mattress beneath you. He crawls toward you, settling his head on your lap and nuzzling against your stomach. You can’t help but laugh softly, moving the magazine out of his way and onto the bedside table.

“You’re comfortable,” you tease, your fingers threading through his thick hair, twisting a few strands absently around your finger.

His eyes flutter shut at your touch, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest. “Can’t help it. I’ve got the best pillow.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “Can I help you?”

He opens one eye, peering up at you with a smirk. “I have a gift for you.”

Your brows lift, curious. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm,” he mutters against your skin, peppering your jawline with lazy, affectionate kisses. The bristle of his mustache has goosebumps curling over your skin. “Tis the season.” He punctuates the sentiment with a playful nip at your neck, making you squeal softly before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he tugs gently at your hand and coaxes you off the bed.

You let him guide you into the kitchen, your bare feet padding against the cool floor. He pulls out a barstool, gesturing for you to sit as he reaches for something on the counter. With a small flourish, he places a travel magazine in front of you, flipping it open to a glossy spread.

Your eyes land on the page, and your breath catches. The images are of a stunning ski resort, nestled in snow-dusted mountains with cozy lodge interiors and breathtaking views of the slopes.

“You didn’t…” you whisper, your voice caught between disbelief and excitement.

His lips tug into a wolfish smile, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes as he watches the realization dawn on your face.

“You didn’t!” you exclaim, jumping up from the stool and throwing your arms around his neck.

Your momentum nearly topples him, but he steadies the both of you with a low chuckle.

You’d mentioned it what feels like ages ago—a casual, offhand story about that ill-fated trip to the mountains with your college friends.

Everything about it had gone wrong. The busted gear, the unexpected blizzard—but through all the chaos, you’d confessed how badly you still wanted to cross skiing off your bucket list.

And Javier remembered. Not just the story, but the way your eyes had lit up despite the unfortunate circumstances. Now here he is, ready to give you that second chance—the best do-over of all time, with him.

“I had to,” he murmurs by your ear. “Spending a week on a winter retreat with you seems a lot more fun than going home this year.”

You don’t press about his family, knowing it’s a tricky subject. Instead, you let the moment settle, your heart swelling with gratitude for his thoughtfulness.

“You’re the best,” you say between a flurry of kisses, peppering his face until his deep chuckle vibrates against your palms. His eyes crinkle at the corners, happiness radiating from him as he gazes down at you.

“The best for you,” he replies softly. “You deserve this, nena. Workin’ so hard all the time… I just wanted to give you somethin’ special.”

You shake your head, grinning so hard it hurts your cheeks. “Do you know how impossible it’s going to be to top this?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “I wasn’t expecting anything in return.”

“What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn’t get my man a gift?” You’re already racking your brain for ideas. It has to be something meaningful—something that feels right for him, not just a wallet or some cologne.

He pulls you onto his lap when he sits on the barstool, going over the details. 

Everything’s covered, he explains—all you have to do is pack and show your pretty ass up. Your excitement bubbles over at the thought, visions of cozy lodge nights and snowy adventures filling your mind.

“Guess I need to go shopping,” you say, already making mental plans to call Connie for help picking out the perfect wardrobe.

Javi chuckles, leaning in to kiss your temple. “Just don’t forget to pack a swimsuit.”

“A swimsuit? For a ski trip?”

He grins, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Hot tubs, nena. Trust me, I plan on having a lot of fun with you while we’re away.”

The resort feels like a dream you don’t want to wake up from. It’s only been a few days, and you’re already dreading your departure.

Javier really hadn’t held back, booking a private cabin with sweeping views of the snow-kissed mountain horizon.

A real Christmas tree stands proudly in the corner of the living room, next to the fireplace, its lights twinkling softly against the glassy expanse of the giant windows that line the walls.

Despite the openness, the space feels warm and intimate, like it was made just for the two of you.

And then there’s the hot tub. Nestled in the patio area overlooking the gorgeous scenery, it practically beckons you to defile it, steam curling up against the chilled glass. 

You’ve been biding your time, waiting for the right moment to unveil the gift you have for him. It’s actually kind of genius and the perfect way to help pull him out of his post-porn funk. 

For now, though, you’re content to let the days unfold naturally, filled with skiing lessons, childish snowball fights outside your cabin, and lots of great sex.

The lift sways gently as it carries you and Javier up the mountain, the cool air biting at your cheeks, though you barely notice.

Your attention drifts to him, as it often does—his profile sharp and striking against the backdrop of the rising sun. The golden light casts a glow over the snowy peaks, painting the scene in colors too beautiful to let slip away.

You shift closer to him, the insulated fabric of your jacket brushing against his as you tilt your head to rest on his shoulder. His arm instinctively drapes across your lap, steadying you, his gloved hand giving your thigh a light squeeze.

“Take a picture with me,” your voice is eager, breaking the quiet hum of the lift.

Javier turns his head, a brow quirked beneath the edge of his snow goggles. “Now? On this thing?”

“Yes, now.” You’re already moving to pull the small camera out of your pocket. “The view is perfect, and I want to remember this.”

He chuckles, leaning back slightly to give you space to situate the camera. “Alright, but if you drop it, don’t start bitching at me.”

You roll your eyes, holding the camera up and adjusting the angle to capture the two of you against the sprawling mountains bathed in warm hues, making the snow sparkle. 

You make sure to move both of your goggles so they’re resting atop of your head, your faces on full display.

Javier tilts his head closer to yours, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you snug against him.

“Smile,” you say, though you know it’s unnecessary—he’s already grinning, that playful smirk you’ve come to adore on his pouty pink lips.

The camera clicks as you take a few photos. Smiling, him kissing your cheek, and you quickly check the screen once you’re finished, heart warming at the sight of the two of you.

“See? Perfect.” You declare, showing him the pictures.

He glances at them, mirroring the same doting expression you’d just made. “You make ‘em look perfect, nenita.”

As the lift continues to ascend, you find yourself watching him more than the scenery. 

It’s hard not to marvel at the layers to this man who had once driven you up the wall. You think back to when you first met him—how easily you’d pegged him as cocky and self-centered, someone who wore his charm like a defense mechanism.

It feels surreal now, knowing how wrong you were. Javier wasn’t just the confident pornstar that could command a room with just a look or a smile. He was thoughtful, protective, and deeply giving in ways that made your heart stutter. You can’t fathom how someone like his ex would ever think about cheating on him.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize you’ve gone quiet until he glances down at you, brows knitting slightly.

“What’s on your mind, cariño?”

“You really surprise me, you know that?”

His expression shifts, the teasing edge softening into something more earnest. “Surprise you how?”

“I thought I had you all figured out when we first met.”

His mustache twitches as he bites back a knowing grin. “In your defense, I didn’t let you see more than that.” 

“Yeah, I know...” You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “But I couldn’t have been more wrong. You’re… so much more than I gave you credit for.”

He’s quiet for a second, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Guess I should thank you for giving me a chance to prove you wrong.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nose scrunching as the hairs of his mustache tickle you. “You’ve done more than just prove me wrong, Javi.”

The lift jerks slightly as it approaches the landing, but neither of you move right away. The world feels quieter here, suspended between earth and sky, just the two of you and the golden light.

“You’re going to make me fall for you talkin’ like that.”

You feel warmth spreading in your chest at his words, wondering if it’s too soon to start catching feelings like this.

You smile against his mouth, not saying anything yet not needing to, before pulling back to move your face covering up and adjust your goggles back over your eyes in preparation to go down the snowy hill.

Your shoulders ache slightly from today’s falls, but it’s the kind of soreness that feels good—earned, but nevertheless annoying. Like now, as you pick yourself up from yet another fall, calling it quits.

“You held out a lot longer than I expected.” Javier teases, his voice muffled by his face covering but still carrying that low, raspy timbre that makes your stomach flutter.

“Shut up,” you grumble, and you’re glad he can’t see the smile tugging at your lips.

You take him in—bundled up in his blue snow suit, goggles perched perfectly in place, his broad shoulders and confident stance somehow still exuding that effortless magnetism he carries everywhere.

Even out here, in the freezing cold, with his face obscured, he manages to look unfairly sexy.

Something about him always pulls you in. Maybe it’s the way his energy feels like gravity, anchoring you to every little thing he does. Or maybe it’s how even the simplest acts—like standing on a snowy hillside—become more vivid, more fun, more everything with him.

Your boots crunch through the snow, the skis clumsy but manageable. He’s watching you, his stance casual, hands resting on his poles as if he’s been doing this his whole life.

He had picked up on this activity much quicker than you. The instructor even called him a natural—but you’re certain she was only saying that because she was attracted to him… which, honestly, fair.

“This is your thing,” he says as you approach. “You’re the one who wanted to cross this off your little list. I’m just here for moral support... and to check you out in that suit.”

You burst out laughing, nearly stumbling again as you try to grab the poles you’d dropped when you fell over. “You can barely see anything in this suit,” you shoot back, gesturing to the thick layers of waterproof fabric that make you feel more like a marshmallow than a person.

“Baby,” he drawls, stepping closer, “I could make out those tits and that ass under anything.”

You shake your head, warmth blooming across your cheeks. “You’re such a fucking flirt,” you say, though your voice softens as his gloved hand reaches out to pull you to him.

“And yet, here you are,” he murmurs, leaning just close enough that you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes through the reflective goggles.

“Here I am.”

You’re back at the general area where you’d first gotten your ski gear, adjusting your snow boots while Javier deals with returning your equipment. 

The air is warm inside the lodge, a stark contrast to the crisp chill outside, and the hum of other skiers and snowboarders unwinding after their runs fills the space.

You’re so focused on fastening a particularly stubborn buckle that the sound of your name catches you off guard.

Your head snaps up, brows furrowing, and there he is. Frankie.

He’s making his way toward you, his strides familiar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, and that lazy, warm smile plastered on his face like it hasn’t been forever since you last saw him.

Your surprise must show because his grin widens slightly as he stops in front of the bench you’re sitting on.

“Frankie, wow, hey.” Your voice is polite, if a little flat.

He wastes no time, dropping down onto the bench beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The sudden weight makes it creak, and though you subtly shift a little away, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Small world.” He’s looking at you with an easy kind of interest, eyes warm and familiar. You have a type. “Didn’t know you were into skiing, hermosa. How have you been?”

Your stomach does a little flip at the damn nickname but you keep your expression neutral, returning your focus to lacing your second boot. “Great, actually. I’m trying it for the first time. Been taking lessons since we got here.”

His brow lifts, amused. “And how’s that going for you?”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head as you tug off your gloves. “I’ve wiped out more times than I’d care to admit.”

He chuckles, stripping off his own gloves, clearly in no rush.

“So what brings you here?” The question feels innocent enough.

“Trip with the guys,” he answers, nodding his head in the direction of a group near a counter. You glance over and sure enough, you see the familiar faces from his circle, all caught up in their own conversation.

“Sounds fun,” you offer, “How’s Elliana? Not too happy her daddy’s missing Christmas, I’m sure.” You smile teasingly, meaning no harm, but the flicker of something on his face makes you pause. His jaw tenses ever so slightly, and the way he drops his gaze feels telling.

“She’s great. Actually, on a trip of her own with her mom and her... uh, new boyfriend.”

You catch the faint cringe he tries to hide as the explanation comes tumbling out. Your chest tightens in an uncomfortable way, not out of sympathy for him, exactly, but more at the reminder of why you two had split up to begin with.

Looks like his effort to “work things out” hadn’t exactly panned out.

“Good for her,” you reply softly, though the exchange feels a little awkward now, like neither of you knows quite where to steer the conversation.

Frankie opens his mouth to say something else, maybe an apology for oversharing or another attempt at small talk, but before he can, you catch a glimpse of Javier weaving through the crowd.

Your heart lifts instantly, as if the room somehow brightens at the sight of him. His tall frame stands out, eyes scanning the lodge, clearly searching for you.

You don’t give Frankie the chance to drag things out any further.

You quickly gather your things, standing as casually as you can. “I have to get going,” you announce, shouldering your bag. “Enjoy the rest of your stay, Frankie.”

He hesitates before he gives you a small nod. “For sure. You too, hermosa. See you around.”

You give him a brief wave before turning and making your way to Javier, your boots thudding lightly against the floor.

His face lights up when he spots you, his gloved hand resting gently on your lower back once he pulls you to him.

“You all set?” he asks, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. The simple affection melts away whatever oddness you felt lingering from your run-in with Frankie.

“Yeah,” you reply, glancing up at him. He looks so effortlessly attractive, his cheeks pink from the cold and brown hair tousled from being under his hat. “I’m ready to get all cozy by the fire.” You purr the words a little, blinking up at him, and it works like a charm.

That sweet smile of his shifts into something sultry, and you don’t miss the way his fingers curl slightly against your back.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” His voice slipping into that seductive, honeyed tone that makes you wish you could fuck a voice. “Lead the way, nena.”

The cocktail table feels like your personal island amidst the ebb and flow of the crowd, the muted hum of holiday music weaving through the air. Warmth blooms across your cheeks from the drinks you’ve nursed through the night, and the haze only amplifies the rich sound of Javier’s laughter.

His hand rests on your lower back, fingertips brushing over the smooth, exposed skin where your dress dips low. The heat of his touch sears into you, enticing enough to have you arching into him.

You giggle as he leans in closer, his breath grazing your ear as he whispers something puckishly suggestive. “You keep lookin’ at me like that and we’re not makin’ it back to the cabin without me pulling this dress off you.”

Your thighs press together instinctively and you bite down on your lip, tilting your head to look up at him, your eyes swimming with the shared heat between you. “Don’t tempt me into letting you do it,” your words are a bit slurred from the alcohol, saturated with desire.

“Oh, I’m not looking to tempt you,” he murmurs, his hand sliding an inch lower. “I’m promising you.”

Your stomach flips, and the idea of staying out any longer feels suddenly impossible, the phantom touch of his hands and lips on you eclipsing all reason.

If there wasn’t an audience, you know you’d already be on your knees with four inches in your mouth, trying to fit the other four like the needy little thing he reduces you to when he gets you all horny.

“Sit tight, nena,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips. “Gotta hit the restroom. When I’m back, we’ll settle up and get out of here.”

You nod, though your brain barely processes the words as your eyes follow him weaving through the throng of people, his presence polarizing even in his absence. 

As you sip the last of your drink, your gaze shifts to the large windows lining the restaurant. 

Even at night, the resort resembles something out of a postcard. The twinkling holiday lights outside illuminating the snow in festive tones. You let yourself sink into the magic of it all, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of your glass, a serene moment settling over you—until it’s promptly shattered.

“Look who it is,” a voice cuts through the ambient noise, pulling your attention.

Your head turns, and there’s Frankie, his easy grin and brown eyes locked on you. He’s not alone, three more figures flank him—Santi, Benny, and Will, each wearing varying degrees of amusement on their faces. The sight of them, clearly under the influence and rowdy, throws you a little.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Frankie quips, his voice carrying that raspy drawl you once found charming.

Your eyes narrow, your posture stiffening. “You keep finding me, wouldn’t necessarily call that meeting,” you acknowledge curtly, trying to keep your voice neutral.

“Once he told us you were here, we couldn’t pass up the chance to say hello,” Benny adds, his grin wolfish as he scans you from head to toe, and you can practically feel his gaze lingering on the dip of your dress. “We miss having you around.”

You know these men. You spent enough time with them while dating Frankie to be able to place them all.

Santi, the smooth-talking charmer who always seems a little too pleased with himself. Benny, the loud, lovable wildcard who you’re sure has never taken anything seriously in his life. And Will, the quiet one with a piercing gaze that could unnerve anyone who wasn’t used to it.

They’re a reminder of why you usually avoid military men. Sure, they’re hot as hell, their confidence and strength undeniably attractive. But beneath that lies a mess of issues—trauma, control, and a certain recklessness that always seems to spill over into their romantic lives.

Frankie had been no different, but he’d wormed his way past your better judgment with that soft charm and rough-around-the-edges allure. And it didn’t hurt that he was real fucking good at eating pussy.

Not as good as Javier, though.

You take a step back, your hand reflexively resting on the edge of the table as though to steady yourself. Their presence feels suffocating, a sharp contrast to the cozy, all consuming warmth you’d just shared with Javi.

“That’s nice of you, but my boyfriend should be back any minute now...”

There’s a beat of silence as your words hang in the air, they exchange looks and you watch Frankie’s expression flicker—something almost smug crossing his features before it’s masked by a crooked smile. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Benny lets out a low whistle, leaning his forearms against the table top. “Didn’t think anyone could tame Fish’s girl.”

“Tame?” You shoot him a glare. “I’m not a fucking animal and certainly not his girl. Not for a while now. So you can all fuck off.”

They laugh at you and that only fires you up even more. Frankie slaps his hand on Benny’s shoulder, shaking him slightly. “Ease up man, she doesn’t take any shit.”

Benny cocks his head, his eyes gleaming with drunken amusement. “Which I think is hot. Definitely wouldn’t have fumbled you like this asshole did. And you do porn?” Another low whistle and you swear your eye twitches.

Before you can respond, Santi jumps in, his smirk as infuriating as ever. “No, no,” he says, shaking his head with mock seriousness. “Camera woman. Not actually a pornstar. Though,” he adds, now his turn to fuck you with his eyes, “I think you’d be a lot better in front of the camera, hermosa.”

“Don’t call me that,” you snap, your patience wearing thin. You can’t stay in this conversation any longer. 

Santi raises his hands in false defense, his grin never faltering. Meanwhile, Will leans over to whisper something into his brother’s ear, and you catch the shift in Benny’s expression as he gives you a once-over, his gaze laced with something that makes your skin crawl.

You grip the glass in your hand tighter, seriously contemplating how much damage it could do.

“Things serious with your new man?” Frankie replaces Will across from you and you roll your eyes.

The audacity. “Yes,” you say through gritted teeth. “Very.” You lean forward slightly, your voice dropping into a cutting tone. “If I were you, I’d leave before he gets back… or before I shove the stem of this glass down your throat.”

Their laughter rises again, whistling and being overly obnoxious about your reply, but you ignore it, your focus razor-sharp on your ex.

“We had our time together, Frankie, and you decided to cut it short by going back to the mother of your child. Whatever, fine, shit happens, but now you’re acting like a real jerk. All of you are and I have no interest in continuing whatever the fuck this is, so, leave.”

You can tell your words hit their mark. Frankie has always respected your no-nonsense attitude, but being on the receiving end clearly doesn’t sit well with him. 

Just as you turn to remove yourself from this stifling mess altogether, Javier reappears.

Javier doesn’t expect to come back and find four men crowding you, their broad shoulders and cocky stances cutting into your space like they own it. The sight stops him cold, but only for a second. Then his back straightens, his jaw locking tight as something territorial flares in his chest.

One of them catches his eye immediately—the scruffy, stray-dog-looking motherfucker he’d recognize anywhere.

That damn Malibu shoot, the tipping point for all the change that came after. The memory of Frankie all over you, the obnoxious flirting, how you had played into it.

Then you left Robbie’s crew and he made his move, securing you as his girlfriend, getting exactly what he wanted.

Javier had no right to feel possessive when it happened, even though every fiber of his being had screamed at him to do something about it. Sure, you shared moments that left him restless and aching for more, but it wasn’t enough to stake a claim, no matter how badly he wanted to, and you were so adamant about not wanting anything to do with him.

So, he’d done the only thing he could—told himself to get over it and buried the jealousy under layers of maintained indifference.

But now? Now you’re his girl. The first real, healthy relationship he’s had since Lorraine, and there’s no way in hell he’s holding back about anything when it comes to you. Especially not when Frankie and his action-movie crew are standing there, eyeing you like you’re some trophy to win.

“What’s goin’ on?” His voice cuts through the noise of their conversation, sharp and unyielding as he closes the distance.

He’s met with four pairs of eyes—two amused, one indifferent, and Frankie’s, which narrow slightly in recognition. Javier keeps his focus steady, his gaze hard as he takes them in.

His confidence has grown over the years, forged by his experiences and the praise from the industry. Yet, there’s still that lingering thread of insecurity that twists in his gut as he watches Frankie make his indifference clear.

“We were just catching up. Saying hello,” Frankie answers almost too casually, but his eyes gleam with something else—a challenge.

Javier doesn’t flinch. Instead, he steps closer to you, his hand finding your waist. “Looks like you’ve said it. Time to move on.”

Beside Frankie, one of the men grins as if he’s enjoying the show. “Easy, man,” he says, his tone teasing. “We’re just being friendly.”

Javier’s jaw ticks, a muscle in his cheek jumping as his grip on you tightens slightly. “Friendly looks more like crowding someone who doesn’t want to talk to you.”

While you’ve never gone into detail about what you had with Frankie, the updates Javier had gotten from Steve are enough to stir doubts. Words like satisfied are currently resurfacing to make him question things he knows aren’t true.

These men are something he isn’t. And even though you’re together now, there’s a small, irrational part of him that wonders if one day you’ll realize he isn’t what you want.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you—he does, with everything he’s got. But being cheated on leaves wounds that never fully close, scars that ache at the worst times. And seeing Frankie standing there, beaming like he still has a chance, stirs something primal in Javier.

“No need to get territorial, Peña. We were just having a little fun. Besides…” He trails off, his gaze flicking briefly to you before returning to Javier. “She can handle herself.”

Javier’s blood boils, his free hand twitching at his side. It would take so little—a single punch to wipe that smug look off his face. But then your hand is on his chest, soft and grounding.

“It’s fine. I was just telling them to leave.” 

Frankie’s gaze lingers on you in a look he recognizes all too well because he looks at you in the same goddamn way, and that has his vision tunneling.

“No harm done,” He steps back with exaggerated nonchalance. But then he throws one last barb over at you. “We’ll catch up some other time, hermosa.”

Javier doesn’t think, words slipping out before he can stop them. “No, the fuck you won’t. In fact, if I see any of you bother her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass.”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try.”

For a moment it looks like things might escalate. But one of the other men—blonde, with a calmer air about him—steps in.

“Alright, boys,” he says, reaching out to pull his friend back. “Let’s not make a scene.”

Frankie hesitates, his jaw tightening, but he relents with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever.”

Javier watches them retreat, his heart still pounding, until they’re out of sight. Only then does he let his shoulders drop slightly.

“Hey,” you say gently, tilting your head to catch his gaze. “You okay?”

“I didn’t like that one fucking bit,” he mutters, his voice rough.

Your smile is gentle, reassuring, and you lean up to press a kiss to his cheek which melts him immediately. “They don’t matter,” you whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “You’re the only one I care about.”

The words ease the last of the tension, and Javier lets out a breath, pulling you close. “Damn right,” his tone softens as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Let’s get out of here,” you suggest, a small mischievous smile on your face, “Your gift is waiting for you back at the cabin.”

It’s as if the entire confrontation is forgotten at your words and he becomes intrigued immediately. “Oh yeah? Then what the fuck are we doin’ still standing here. Let’s go.”

“Are your eyes closed?”

Javier leans against the armrest of the couch, his lips curving into a small smile as your voice carries from the bedroom.

“Yeah,” he replies, shifting slightly, his eyes obediently shut.

“You’re not lying to me?”

“No.” He chuckles, the deep, easy sound rumbling from his chest.

There’s the faint shuffle of movement, and then he feels you—the subtle electricity that always seems to spark when you’re near.

His hands are cupped in front of him as instructed, his curiosity piqued. He has no idea what you’ve planned, no inkling of what’s coming.

Honestly, he can’t believe you actually got him anything. The trip itself has been more than enough—a week of unfiltered joy, amazing sex, and waking up to you in his arms. If that isn’t a gift in itself, then what is?

Then you’re standing in front of him, placing something in his hands. He feels the cool weight of it, the texture of smooth plastic beneath his fingertips.

“Okay, you can open them now.”

Javier’s eyes flutter open, immediately drawn to the object cradled in his palms. It’s a handheld camcorder, a glossy red ribbon tied around it like the finishing touch on a present. His brows knit together in brief confusion, but before he can ask, you fill in the blanks.

“I want us to make a tape together, Javi.”

Your words hit him like a freight train. No, they hit his cock like a freight train, and the damn thing stirs to life before his brain even fully registers the meaning.

“You naughty little thing,” he murmurs, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always gets a rise out of you.

You bite your lip, a playful giggle escaping. “I figured it’d be something fun for us,” you say, stepping closer until he can smell the faint traces of your perfume. “Plus… I really like how you fuck on camera. Not that it’s any different from what we do, but…”

You trail off with a small, breathy moan that makes Javier’s restraint snap. He sets the camera carefully on the couch before pulling you closer, his hands gripping the hem of your dress and bunching the fabric in his fists as he pulls you between his knees.

“But…?” he prompts, his lips finding the curve of your neck. He kisses, nips, and licks, each touch of his mouth drawing little gasps from you. You taste divine, every inch of you always does.

“But it’s different,” you breathe, your fingers digging into his biceps as his teeth graze your skin. “I want to experience what all those other stars do when shooting a scene with you.”

His lips crash against yours, the kiss heated and possessive. He can taste the remnants of the cocktails you had at dinner, but more than that, he tastes you.

The memory of those old sets pales in comparison to the thought of filming with you.

“I’m all yours, nena,” he growls against your lips, his hands slipping lower to slap your ass then gripping onto the flesh. “This is a brilliant fucking idea. I’ve been telling you how hot you’d look on camera. How do you want to do this?”

Your smile is roguish, your confidence intoxicating. “I want us to take turns filming... directing… Wanna get some good shots of me sucking your cock.”

Your hand trails down his arm, skimming over the muscles there, then lower to pinch his hip before you palm his erection through his pants, his hips jerking involuntarily as he grunts.

“And I definitely need footage of that tongue of yours working my pussy,” you add, your tone sultry. “We’ll figure the rest out as we go. I want to start in the hot tub.”

Javier swears under his breath, his head tilting back slightly as your touch sends a fresh wave of desire through him. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, voice thick with need.

You smile, giving him one last squeeze before pulling away, leaving him half-dazed and completely aroused. “Get changed and take the camera outside. I’ll join you once I put on my costume.”

“Costume?” His brows arch in curiosity as his eyes track your retreating form.

“Costume might be pushing it. It’s something to set the tone for the amateur vibe I want this to have. Even if we know what we’re doing.”

“Whatever you want,” he’s so desperate to take you, “I’m going to tear you the fuck up.”

You blow him a kiss, your giddiness as palpable as his. 

Javier watches you disappear into the bedroom, letting out a long breath as he stands and moves to his bag which you had purposefully, he realizes, brought out before leaving for dinner.

He pulls out his swim trunks, quickly changing and grabbing the camera again. He can’t help the simper pulling at his lips as he removes the ribbon and flits through the settings, familiarizing himself with it.

Javier slides open the patio door, the soft scrape of the glass breaking the stillness of the night. A cool breeze rushes in, sharp against his skin, but it’s a refreshing contrast to the heat coursing through his veins.

The glow of the string lights overhead reflects off the rippling water of the hot tub. They frame the scene perfectly, tiny stars encircling what already feels like a secluded slice of paradise.

He steps out onto the wooden deck, the chill biting at his bare chest and legs. A small shiver runs through him, but it’s chased away the moment he dips into the steaming water. The heat rises to meet him, coiling around him like an inviting embrace.

Javier lowers himself deeper into the tub, the warmth spreading instantly, soothing muscles. The jets hum to life with the press of a button, sending gentle ripples across the surface. Another tap, and the colorful lights beneath the water bloom, shifting from deep blue to vivid green, then a lurid red.

He leans back against the edge, one arm stretched casually along the rim, the other cradling the camcorder.

The setting is perfect—intimate, cozy, and alive with the kind of cinematic allure that’s been a part of his life for so long. Only this time, it’s personal. This time, it’s with you.

“Alright, I’m coming out,” your voice calls from inside, and Javier’s pulse spikes as if his body already knows it’s about to be wrecked. 

He shifts in the water, the tent in his briefs straining beneath the surface. His fingers move automatically, adjusting his grip on the camcorder, raising it to eye level, his thumb brushing over the small record button.

“Ready whenever you are,” he says, his voice a little lower, raspier.  

Through the steamy glass, he tracks your shadowy movements, catching fleeting glimpses of red that tease him to the point of madness.

The condensation and reflections blur the details, but it only adds to the attraction. He can feel his heart thudding against his ribs, a primal drumbeat that matches the ache in his cock.  

And then you step out, framed by the sliding door like a vision he couldn’t conjure even in his wildest fantasies.  

“Fuck me.”

The red bikini bottoms sit high on your hips, the delicate ties framing your curves like artwork. That vivid, sinful shade of red makes your skin seem to glow, the contrast leaving him weak.

In one hand is a bottle of champagne, the other holding two flutes, and his tongue pokes against his cheek at how festive you’re being.

He zooms in with the camera, starting at your legs then capturing every dip and swell of your thighs, the plushness he knows so well.

The lens follows up, slowly drinking in the soft curve of your stomach, lingering over the way your tits press against the satin ribbon wrapped around them like a present he’s dying to open. The bow tied between your cleavage looks precarious, like it might unravel at the slightest tug.

The silky fabric is no match for the chill in the air, your hardened nipples poking through in a way that makes his tongue twitch in his mouth at the thought of flitting it over the stiffened peaks. 

But then his gaze—and the lens—finds your face, and it’s game over. Your lips are parted, plump and glistening as you lick them, the slight haze in your eyes a telltale sign of the alcohol still swimming in your veins. Your lashes frame your eyes perfectly, their sparkle teasing him as if daring him to lose control.  

His mind is already racing ahead, imagining the way those lips will part as you take his cock into his mouth, the way your head will tilt back when he suckles at your clit, or how your eyes will roll into your skull when he’s buried deep inside your tight cunt.

“You look so fucking good. Shit,” he breathes, his voice shaky. The camcorder threatens to tremble in his hand as he refocuses on you, watching you strike playful poses against the doorframe, snowflakes getting caught in your hair.

Each one is more tantalizing than the last, and when you bend over to show him your sweet ass, he zooms in on how the red fabric outlines your pussy.

“Thank you,” you purr, your voice smooth and syrupy as you turn and saunter toward the tub, setting the drink and glasses aside. You exaggerate the sway of your hips, fully aware of the effect you have on him, and it’s almost too much.

He’s never had a woman make him feel this way.

Javier keeps the camera trained on you, his years of expertise blending seamlessly with his overwhelming desire to immortalize this moment.

The way the light dances off your skin, the ripple against your flesh as you move sensually, your smile—it’s all so perfectly you.

For a moment, he forgets the camera is even there. Every inch of you seems made for him, like a custom design he never dreamed he’d be lucky enough to have.

When you finally join him, stepping into the steaming water, his restraint frays to a thread. He’s gripping the camcorder like it’s the only thing keeping him from lunging at you.

“You’re teasing me, baby,” he rasps as he films you lowering yourself into the tub.  

“I know,” you reply with a flirty smile. “But don’t you love it?”  

“Too much,” he shifts his legs to relieve some of the pressure at his crotch, though it’s futile. He’s already undone, and the night’s only just begun. 

“Keep posing, like you did by the door,” Javier instructs while his dark eyes remain fixed on you, not the viewfinder. Capturing this for later is one thing, but experiencing it now is something he wants seared into his memory for the rest of his life.

“Flirt with the camera using those beautiful eyes, nena.”

You bite your lip, your lashes lowering as you tilt your head, blinking slowly at the lens. You know exactly what to do, and he guesses this comes from watching the other stars do it on set.

The result is undeniably erotic. Knowing that you’ve never done it before like this, yet exude such natural talent, makes the moment infinitely hotter.

The water kisses your skin, glistening under the string lights and making every curve gleam like a jewel. You shift your weight, cocking your hip, arching your back—it’s fluid, seductive. Droplets of water run over your tits and how badly does he want to reach out and lick at them.

He will, he just wants to get enough footage of just you being so damn sexy.

You move with languid grace, tilting your head just so, and then giggling as you reach for the champagne. The sound is rousing, making his cock twitch.

You curl your finger, beckoning him closer, and he obeys without hesitation, the camera steady in his hands as he floats toward you. 

You pour the golden liquid into your glass, bringing it to your lips with a playful flick of your tongue along the rim, a teasing preview of what’s to come.

When you tilt your head back, letting the bubbly glide past your lips, your throat moves with every swallow and he makes sure to let the shot linger there, fixated.

“Mmm,” the sound is a decadent hum that has his teeth sinking into his lower lip. “Tastes so good.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” he growls, his large hand reaching up to cradle your jaw. His thumb brushes over your cheek, warm and damp under his touch, before sinking his fingers into the soft skin. “Look at how gorgeous my girl is.”

He angles your face toward the camera, showing you off like a precious work of art. You go pliant under his touch, your eyes locking on the lens as you bring the glass to your lips again, deliberately spilling the champagne, letting it cascade over your jaw and his waiting fingers, trickling down his wrist in a sticky, sparkling trail.

“Oops,” you say, your tone dripping with false innocence. Lowering your head, your tongue darts out, tracing the line of champagne from his pulse point up to his fingers.

You take the tip of his finger into your mouth, sucking lightly, swirling your tongue around the pad before releasing it with a wet, lingering kiss.

“Dios mío,” Javier groans, his hips shifting as his swollen cock brushes against your thigh. The soft gasp that escapes you only feeds his need. “Pretty and dirty. A real fuckin’ star.”

His hand trails lower, abandoning your face to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over the damp fabric before tugging at it, unraveling it completely. 

The cool air kisses your skin just before his touch follows, warm and possessive. He doesn’t ask—Javier never does when it comes to adoring you; he just takes, knowing how much you love it.

Especially when he plays with your tits.

You shake them playfully, the soft, bouncing motion making him snarl, the sound rumbling low in his chest.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his hand kneading your flesh, his thumb brushing over your nipple before he pinches it just hard enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips.

His eyes flicker to the viewfinder, ensuring the camera catches every detail as he lavishes attention on you, pinching and rolling your puckered tips between his fingers until you’re squirming against him.

“Give me the camera,” you breathe through soft whimpers, reaching for it. He hands it over without a second thought, his hands lingering on yours as he relinquishes the device. 

The power shifts, and you waste no time, pointing the lens at him. “Suck on my tits, Javi,” you coo, each word laced with seduction, and his reaction is immediate.

He pulls you against him, your bodies slick with the heat and bubbles of the water, his hard cock pressing insistently between your thighs. His mouth finds your nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before he sucks it into his mouth, his teeth grazing it just enough to make you whine.

Your free hand tangles in his damp hair, guiding his head and angling his face for the camera as he lavishes attention on you. The viewfinder captures everything: the way his lips move, how his tongue circles your areola, the glistening trail of water droplets and his spit on your skin.

His mouth moves to your other breast to do the same, sucking harder this time.

“So good, baby,” your voice trembles with pleasure. “You’re so good to me.”

He chuckles low against your chest, relishing in your praise and how he’s able to make you react.

His large hands slide up, cupping your breasts as he pushes them together, burying his face between them and motorboating you. The deep, playful groan he lets out makes you laugh breathlessly behind the camera.

“Pass me the champagne,” Javi murmurs, his lips brushing your collarbone.

You loosen your hold on his hair, reaching for the bottle. The moment it’s in his hands, he tilts it back for a quick swig, the liquid catching the light as it drips from the corner of his mouth.

He pours a generous stream over your chest, the cool champagne trickling down the valley of your breasts. His tongue is quick to chase it, licking and sucking every drop, his movements rougher now, hungrier.

You adjust the camera, your arm stretched out to capture the way his mouth trails up to your neck, nipping and kissing as if he can’t get enough.

The wet, desperate sounds of your kisses fill the air, drowning out the gentle hum of the hot tub jets.

It’s messy, all tongue and teeth, as if he’s trying to consume you entirely.

Javier takes the camera back without breaking the kiss, adjusting the angle to film the way your lips move against his. His free hand grips your waist, guiding the both of you backward until his body presses against the tub’s edge. 

Snowflakes drift in on the breeze, clinging to your hair and his, melting instantly against your heated skin.

“You gonna be a good girl and show the camera how much you love my cock? How good you are at taking him down your throat?” he asks, his voice thick with lust, his lips brushing against your ear.

He zooms in on how your mouth parts in an eager smile.

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding with unrestrained excitement.

Javier lifts himself onto the tub’s edge, the chill in the air biting at his skin, but he doesn't care, not with the way his excitement overrides any of his discomfort. His legs remain submerged, spreading wide to give you space.

You move between them, the warm water lapping at your waist as your hands trail up his legs, your fingers kneading the firm muscle.

“I’ll make it extra good for you today, baby,” you promise, and he knows you mean every word.

He lifts his hips up to help you pull down his trunks, his erection bobbing free from its constraints. Javier hisses as the cool air hits him, but it’s quickly soothed when you wrap your fingers around his shaft and he groans, your softer touch feeling like fucking heaven.

You stroke him a few times, and the visual of you jerking his cock while the bubbles from the jets flutter around your bod has him tightening his grip on the camera.

As he watches you, he knows—he wouldn’t change a single thing about what got you here.

Not the fights, not the doubts, not the messy way you two stumbled into this, because every moment led to this one.

You hum, looking up at him through your lashes, giving the camera a flirty wink before your tongue darts out to kitten lick at his weeping tip, his skin flushed a devious red.

You start slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of his spongy head, swirling around it and tasting the saltiness of the precum that beads at the slit. He sucks in a sharp breath, his free hand tangling in your hair to guide you closer.

“So fucking perfect.”

Your eyes twinkle at the praise, taking him deeper, your lips stretching around his girth. The camera captures every second—his cock disappearing into your mouth, the way your cheeks hollow as you suck, the slick sounds of your efforts filling the air.

Javier’s hips jerk, unable to hold still as you bob your head, your tongue working him over. Drool slips from the corners of your lips, mixing with the water from the tub as you take him as deep as you can, gagging, the messy display making him curse under his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, his voice breaking. “You’re so goddamn good at this.”

You moan around him, the vibration making his grip in your hair tighten. You pull back to catch your breath, your hand stroking him while your tongue laves attention along the underside of his shaft, tracing every pulsating vein.

“Messy little thing,” he murmurs, the camera focusing on the spit shining his cock, dripping from your chin as you smile wickedly up at him.

“I like it messy,” you reply, your voice a foxy, hoarse purr before you take him back into your mouth, sucking harder, faster, the wet, obscene sounds driving him closer to finishing.

The camera feels heavier in his hand as he adjusts the focus, trying to capture every detail of this moment, but his heart beats faster when he realizes the truth: no recording, no photo, nothing tangible could ever truly do justice to what he feels right now. It’s more than physical. It’s more than lust.

It’s her. She’s it. She’s everything.

As if reading his mind, your gaze flicks up to meet his, and you fucking smile with his cock in your mouth.

He exhales a shaky breath, barely holding on to his composure when you release him with an audible pop and trail your tongue down his length. The hand pumping him doesn’t slow, but your mouth finds his inner thigh then his balls, licking and biting just enough to make his leg tense under you.

“Where do you want to come, Javi?” Your voice is a soft, breathy rasp, and his whole body reacts to the sound of it. Your hand moves faster, and he’s unable to form an answer before you stop abruptly, making him curse under his breath.

“In my hand?” Your grip tightens around his cock.

“Goddammit,” his frustration turns to a low, guttural noise when you lower your mouth and tap the tip of his cock against your tongue.

“Or on my tongue?” The slick glide of your lips as you tease him is pure torture, but you’re not done. You push your chest forward, letting his dick slap against the humps of your tits.

“Maybe all over these?” Your voice is sweet, almost playful, but your intentions are anything but. The sight of his cock glistening against your skin, the jiggle of your flesh under his weight, makes his vision blur for a second.

“Or are you going to hold it in and fill my pussy?”

The way you say it, so casually filthy, sends a jolt of arousal through him. He bites down hard on his lip, every muscle in his body tightening. You’ve always had a mouth on you, but this—this is something else entirely.

Your confidence, the way you’ve grown into yourself since being with him, sends a surge of pride through his chest. 

“Baby, I’m going to fuck you so full of my cum you’ll be tasting it for fucking weeks.”

Your breathless giggle is music to his ears, and when you lean in to kiss his cock, licking over the tip, his control shatters.

“C’mere,” he sneers, pulling you up into a heated kiss. His mouth is desperate, his teeth scraping against your lips. He adjusts, submerging himself back into the water, being mindful of the device, and pulling your back flush against his chest.

He angles the lens to capture the way your bodies press together, the steam from the water curling around you both. The viewfinder is flipped and shows your damp hair sticking to your face, his lips dragging over the curve of your neck.

“Look at how good we look,” he murmurs, his voice a low rasp against your ear as his hand palms your breast, squeezing roughly.

A smile splits your face, drunk on the taste of his cock and the alcohol. Slowly, you shift on your toes, bending forward just enough to tease him with the curve of your ass, playfully wiggling it as you rub his cock between your cheeks.

“Come fuck me, Javi.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathes, bringing the camera lower to capture the way the bubbles skim over the curve of your body. He smacks each cheek, the sound sharp against the steady hum of the jets, and you huff, arching even more.

When he pulls at the strings of your bikini bottoms, letting the fabric fall away, he curses under his breath. “Mierda,” he hisses, his hand kneading your supple flesh before gripping the base of his cock and slapping it against your skin. 

He can’t help but grin as he shows off for the camera.

When he slides himself along your slick folds, he groans, feeling how wet you are for him. “Damn, suckin’ me off gets you this turned on, nena?” he asks, breathless.

You let out a needy whimper, nodding as your hips push back against him.

He doesn’t make you wait, sinking into you with a grunt that’s half your name and half prayer. The way your walls clench around him, pulling him deeper, makes him swear under his breath as he sets a rhythm that sends water spilling over the edge of the tub.

“Oh, Javi, oh fuck!” Your voice is loud, shameless, and he loves every filthy syllable of it.

“You like that, huh?” he growls, slowing his thrusts to drag his cock out of you torturously slow, the tight suction of your pussy making him grit his teeth.

“Gorgeous fucking pussy doesn’t want to let me go,” he mutters, angling the camera to capture the way your body takes him so perfectly, the wet sounds of him sliding in and out of you echoing around you.

He licks his lips, the phantom taste of your tangy sweetness haunting them, and the thought of you spread out while he loses himself in eating you out burns through him like fire.

The way you whimper in protest when he pulls out is enough to make him consider sinking back into your tight, sopping heat, but he reins himself in. Instead, his hand comes down on your ass, the sharp crack echoing in the chilled night air.

“None of that. Let’s move this party inside. I need to taste you.”

You bite your lip, shivering from the combination of his words and the cold air biting at your damp skin. 

Both of you are dripping water as you climb out of the hot tub, the biting chill of the night air wraps around you, sending goosebumps racing across your skin.

Javier notices, of course he does, and he drags his hands over your arms, a fleeting attempt at warming you before snagging the nearest towel.

“C’mere, nena,” he mutters, pulling you close. The towel is large, but his hands are clumsy as he rubs it over your body. The motion is both tender and hurried, his fingers lingering on the curves of your hips, your nice tits, and the slick heat between your thighs. “Can’t have you catching a cold now, can we?”

You giggle, your teeth chattering as you take the camera from him as he brings you inside. You stumble over the threshold, recording every imperfect second.

The contrast between the icy air outside and the inviting heat of the cabin is immediate, the crackling fireplace casting a golden glow across the room.

Javier wastes no time, pulling you toward the plush rug in front of the flames. You lay on your back, taking a moment to admire your boyfriend.

He’s a masterpiece carved by desire, every part of him sculpted to make you ache.

You handle the camera in your hands, the viewfinder framing Javier like the sex god that he is. You’re practically purring as the lens lingers on his thighs and how they flex subtly when he shifts his weight.

The camera pans higher and you feel that insistent heartbeat at your pussy.

His cock stands heavy and proud, the firelight casting shadows along his delicious length and girth. He’s gorgeous—thick veins trailing up velvety skin, the head angry and eager to punch into your cunt, his balls heavy with the load he’s already promised to fill you full of.

Continuing your digital ascent, you capture the sharp planes of his torso, his golden-brown skin glowing in the warmth of the flames. His chest rises and falls with slow, steady breaths.

Finally, you settle the shot on his lips, looking plush under that sexy ass mustache. They have ruined you time and time again with words, kisses, and the way they dote on every part of you.

“He’s so fucking good at using those.” You whisper to the camera.

“You done admiring?” He asks with playful arrogance, as if he hadn’t been absolutely eating up every reaction you had given to the body he’s sculpted into a living, breathing fantasy

“Never.”

He leans down to kiss you, sticky precum brushing against your lower stomach. Slyly, he takes the device from your hands, now his turn to marvel at you.

His lips part slightly as he looks at you, the flames illuminating every curve and dip of your body, painting you in shades of gold and amber.

“Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

You bite your lip, your cheeks heated under his gaze. Javier adjusts the angle, zooming in on the way your thighs press together, craving him again.

“Spread your legs for me, nena.”

You hesitate, suddenly shy under the intensity of his gaze, but he makes it impossible to deny him when he looks at you like this.

Slowly, you part your legs, exposing yourself to him fully.

“Goddamn,” Javier growls, his free hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, his calloused fingers trailing to where you’re still sticky with arousal from how he’d taken you outside. He uses his thumb to spread open one of your pussy lips, revealing your pretty cunt to the camera, his thumb pressing down on your clit, smearing your juices around.

“You know how perfect you are?” he asks, his voice low as he sets the camera down at the perfect angle to capture what he’s about to do next. “Every fucking inch of you drives me crazy.”

Javier leans over you, his lips trailing down your neck to the hollow between your breasts. His hands spread you open further, his breath hot against your skin as he settles himself between your thighs.

You shudder as his lips press against your inner thigh, sinewy fingers keeping you spread open so the camera gets a good view of his tongue doing what it does best between your legs.

The fire crackles beside you, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his mouth as he begins to devour you, his tongue and lips coaxing soft moans and gasps from your lips.

He doesn’t rush. He takes his time, savoring every sound you make, every tremble of your body. He pulls back briefly, some of your slick clinging to his lips, just long enough to grab the camera again, angling it to capture your flushed face and the way your body arches toward him before handing it over to you.

You almost drop it from how fucking lightheaded he’s left you, but manage to hold onto it, doing your best to record this handsome man going down on you.

“No one else gets to see you like this. Just me.”

The possessiveness in Javier’s voice is laced with an edge of jealousy, a dark fire stoked by earlier moments that now claw their way back into his mind. Flashes of other men crowding you, eyeing what’s his, swirl in his thoughts, blending with images of you and Frankie tangled in your sheets. 

The thought ignites a growl deep in his chest. His fingers grip your thigh harder, nails biting into your skin as he buries his face between your legs with renewed intensity. 

His tongue swirls and flicks over your clit, his lips sealing around the swollen nub with a pressure that makes your toes curl.

He’s punishing those images, driving them out by proving how thoroughly you belong to him.

“Just you, Javi, no one else,” you gasp, your back arching off the plush rug. With one hand on the device, your other lets its fingers twist into his thick brown hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt against your slick heat.

The vibrations ripple through you, sending you closer to the edge, your walls fluttering with anticipation.

You’re close—he feels it in the way your thighs shake, the way your breath stutters. Determined to pull you over the edge, he buries his face deeper, his nose nudging your clit as he shakes his head back and forth.

The scratch of his mustache against your tender flesh only intensifies your pleasure, and when his lips seal around your swollen clit and he sucks harshly, it shatters you.

“Oh my God, Javier!” you scream, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash through you, the camera shaking violently in your hand. The heat of the nearby flames amplifies your euphoria, sweat beading on your skin.

“Pussy tastes so fuckin’ delicious,” his voice is muffled but heavy with want. Javier has always loved going down on women, but there’s something about you—your taste, your scent, the way your body responds to him—that drives him wild. 

His cock thrums painfully, desperate for relief. He’s grinding against the rug without even realizing it, his need to claim you consuming every thought.

Even as your thighs twitch in the aftermath of your orgasm, he laps up every drop, greedy for more, his tongue sweeping over your oversensitive flesh until you’re gasping and squirming beneath him. Only then does he pull away, his lips and chin glistening with your essence.

Taking the camera again, he points it at you, capturing the sight of you sprawled across the rug, utterly spent. Your chest rises and falls, your eyes half-lidded with bliss.

“¿Todo bien, nena?” he asks, gingerly yet smugly satisfied.

“Mhm,” you hum, stretching languidly under his touch. “Just need a minute.”

He strokes your face, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips and you kiss the rough pad softly. 

Wordlessly, he adjusts the lens, zooming in on your face, capturing the blissed-out expression that is all his doing. It makes him want to kiss you, so he does, bending down, his lips brushing yours in a smoldering liplock.

“Such a good kisser, Javi.” You chase after his mouth when he pulls away, bringing your hands up to cradle his face to keep your lips on his. He lets you, lost in the feeling in the same way you are, that poor camera idly recording the blur of your moving heads.

When he does finally pull back, he moves with purpose, setting up the camera on the coffee table, his fingers steady despite the heat thrumming through his veins.

He flips the viewfinder to showcase the two of you, positioning it to capture the perfect scene: the crackling fireplace, the twinkling lights on the Christmas tree, the snow-kissed mountains visible through the frosted window, bathed in the silver moonlight.

The setup is a masterpiece, the kind of shot you’d call pure art. You’ve teased him about this before—how his talent for making things look so effortlessly beautiful extends even to his most smutty creations.

When Javier returns to you, his breath hitches. You’re stretched out on the rug, naked as the day you were born, your skin kissed by the soft illumination of the Christmas lights. You look up at him with a cheeky grin that makes his chest tighten and his cock throb.

“Hey, baby,” you say, your voice teasing yet soft, inviting him closer.

“Hi,” he murmurs back, his own lips shifting into a smile that mirrors yours.

He lowers himself to you again, cradling your jaw as if you’re the most delicate, precious thing he’s ever touched. “You havin’ fun?”

“So much,” you reply with a laugh that’s pure music to his ears. Your teeth catch his lower lip playfully, and your hand sneaks down between you, wrapping around his pulsating cock. The sound he lets out vibrates against your lips, and the look in his eyes is molten.

“Now fuck me full, Javi,” you whisper, your words bold and needy, a demand he’s more than eager to fulfill.

His hands are on you in an instant, pulling you up and shifting your body until you’re perfectly centered in the shot.

You look like a vision, his personal angel.

Javier kneels behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips, the pads of his fingers pressing into your skin just hard enough to leave marks he’ll admire later.

His cock teases your entrance, the slick head gliding over your swollen clit, and you mewl, your body quivering with anticipation. He watches, mesmerized, as you arch your back for him, offering yourself up completely.

Slowly, he sinks into you, savoring the way your walls envelop him, the tightness making him hiss through his teeth.

His grip tightens as he thrusts deeper, the stretch and fullness making you sob. The sound shoots straight to his cock, and he growls low in his throat, his hips snapping forward, burying himself to the hilt.

Your cries rise in pitch as he sets a brutal rhythm, each powerful thrust sending your tits bouncing uncontrollably. 

Javier leans back slightly, angling his body just so, ensuring the camera captures every detail—the way your pussy clenches and drips around his cock and how obscene the sounds of your bodies joining echo in the cabin.

His nose skims the side of your neck, his breath hot against your damp skin. He bites down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue, before whispering filthy promises into your ear, each word making you tighten around him.

“You were made for me,” he declares, “This tight pussy, fuck, no one else gets to feel how perfect she is. Just me. All mine.”

Something about being inside you triggers this untamed passion in him, an insatiable desire that no amount of good fucking can quench.

He’s relentless, taking and taking, chasing the pleasure that only you can give him. The thought of you creaming all over his cock, screaming his name, and begging for more while teetering on the edge of oblivion has him thrusting harder, deeper.

No one else has ever felt like this—like home and sin wrapped into one. Fucking you is better than anything he’s ever known.

It doesn’t even have to be elaborate or kinky—though he certainly doesn’t mind. He loves it all, from nights like this to the slow, sleepy mornings when he wakes you by sliding his cock into your warm, welcoming body, loving the way you melt against him with soft sighs.

Now, though, it’s anything but slow. His hips piston up into you, his balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, and you’re crying out his name like a prayer.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his voice rough in your ear as his pace falters momentarily.

You’re too lost in the haze of bliss to respond right away, your whimpers spilling from your lips in broken waves. Javier slows, grinding into you, letting the friction bring you back to him.

“I said, do you trust me?” he repeats, his tone firmer.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, your voice a breathy plea as your pussy clenches around him.

A dark, satisfied smirk spreads across his face. “I’m gonna put you in a headlock, baby. Keep you right where I want you while I tear this pretty pussy up like I promised.”

You mewl, the sound making his cock twitch inside you. He nips at your ear, his breath fanning against your skin. 

“If it’s too much, tap me three times, okay?” His voice softens slightly, a thread of tenderness weaving through the raw desire.

You nod eagerly, your voice trembling as you beg, “Please, Javi.”

When you turn your head to look at him, the vulnerability and trust in your eyes make his heart clench. Fuck, I love her.

Without another word, he surges forward to kiss you messily, his lips claiming yours as he loops a strong arm around your neck. The position pulls you flush against his chest, your back arching as he adjusts his knees, locking you into place.

“I’ll start slow, get that pussy purring,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear.

His cock drags against your walls, unhurried, and you shiver as he finds that spot inside you that makes your toes curl.

“Right there,” you gasp, your voice hitching as your body tightens around him.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he groans, his arm tightening just enough to make your head swim in the most delicious way.

With a growl, he picks up his pace, pounding into you with enough force to get your body jolting against his. The rug beneath you rubs raw at your knees, each wet slap of his cock driving into your soaked pussy sending ripples of heat through your core.

Javier watches the way your body reacts to him from the viewfinder across the way. “That’s it, nena,” he clenches his teeth, his own release building as he claims you over and over again. His large fingers move from your hips down to toy with your clit. “Take it all. Take every. Fucking. Inch.”

Your hands shoot up to grip Javier’s arm, manicured nails biting into his flesh and leaving streaks of angry red lines down the muscled curve. The sting only fuels him, a feral satisfaction curling in his chest as you claw desperately for purchase.

Drool slips from the corner of your lips, pooling in the crease of his elbow, and he can’t help but smile smugly at the camera, his ego swelling alongside his cock. He’s unraveling you, making you fall apart so completely that you’re losing control—going stupid for his cock.

The slick sound of your bodies meeting fills the room, drowning out the crackling fire. You’re soaking him, your pussy so wet that the coarse hairs at the base of his cock are drenched, shining with your mixed juices.

He tightens his grip around your throat, your voice reduced to breathy, incoherent gasps. The pressure is perfect, the lack of air sending your senses spiraling as he pounds into you with reckless abandon, fingers relentless against your puffy clit.

It’s enough to coax your submission further, and he feels your slick walls start to quake around him. Your pussy flutters, gripping him so tightly it takes everything in him not to lose control right then.

“I—” You try to speak, but your words dissolve into an unintelligible cry as your orgasm slaps you right in the face.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Javier growls, his voice low and rough. He drives into you harder, faster, the head of his cock hitting that devastatingly deep spot that only he has been able to touch. Your eyes roll back, your cunt clenching him like a vice.

Your body trembles on the edge of euphoria and exhaustion. You lift your hand to tap out, but before you can, his own climax barrels through him like an angry bull.

His hips snap wildly as he spills into you. Hot spurts of cum fill you, thick and endless, his curses mixing with your cries as your body trembles uncontrollably.

The second he loosens his hold on your throat, air rushes back into your lungs, and with it comes a blinding, second wave of pleasure.

“Ah—fuck me!” you yelp, your body spasming as an intense pressure bursts inside you. Liquid heat sprays out of your pussy, soaking his lap and the carpet beneath you.

You fall forward, about to collapse, but Javier catches you, holding you close for a moment, his own body shaking as he fights to catch his breath.

The sticky warmth of your release and his cum pooling between your thighs has him grinning like a devil. “Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he pants, pulling out slowly, hissing at the tight drag of your walls around him.

Gently, he lowers you forward, your cheek pressing against the soft carpet. He goes to caress you, but your body twitches, still caught in the aftershocks, and you let out a weak, incoherent whimper.

“Too much. Don’t touch me. Don’t even look at me.”

He laughs, a low, heady sound, still lightheaded from his own climax. “Whatever you say,” he mutters, reaching for the camera. He adjusts the viewfinder, pointing it at your wrecked body bent over in front of the fireplace.

“C’mon, nena,” he coaxes. “Roll over for me. Gotta get a good shot of my cum dripping out of this perfect pussy.”

His vulgar words make your clit tingle but you know you can’t go for another round right now. Or any time soon, really.

With a soft huff, you roll onto your back, spreading your legs wide despite the exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Tears of pleasure still cloud your vision as you gaze up at him, your chest rising and falling with ragged breaths.

The camera captures everything—your swollen, glistening folds, the obscene trail of his cum trickling from your hole, evidence of how thoroughly he’s claimed you.

A lewd gurgling sound fills the air as the thick, creamy fluid bubbles out of you, sliding down to smear across your puckered entrance.

Javier is transfixed, his cock twitching despite his exhaustion. The urge to stuff his spend back into you with his fingers is almost overwhelming, but he reels it in. You’ve tapped out, and he respects your limits.

“So fucking hot,” he murmurs, his voice reverent as he watches. “Blow a kiss to the camera, baby.”

You smile weakly, giggling through your exhaustion. Licking your lips slowly, you pucker up and blow a kiss toward the lens, finishing with a playful, fucked-out wink.

The action is pure lust and sweetness combined, and he lets out a satisfied hum before finally stopping the recording.

“My girl, you did so well,” Javier murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. His praise seeps into your skin like balm, soothing you with the warmth of his presence.

He reaches for the couch pillows and the throw blanket, crafting a cozy nest right there on the floor by the fire. 

He doesn’t care that you’re both sticky with sweat and the remnants of your passion— all he cares about is making you comfortable.

Feeling the fog of pleasure begin to lift, you roll onto your side, your body aching in the best way possible, reaching for him instinctively.

Javi doesn’t hesitate; he scoops you up with ease, settling you on his chest. Your head rests between his pecs, rising and falling with his steady breaths. His calloused fingers trail up and down your naked back, a calming rhythm that lulls you into serenity.

“I can’t believe I squirted,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest. “Isn’t that…you know…piss? Shouldn’t we be in the shower right now?”

The question pulls a laugh from deep within him, a sound so rich and full that it vibrates through his chest and onto your cheek. “Eh,” he says, shrugging lazily. “Doesn’t really matter. What I do know is that I’m so damn proud of you, baby. I know the tape is goin’ to be fuckin’ gold.” His tone drips with adoration, each word laced with pride.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can always get back in the tub.”

You hum in response, nuzzling into the curve of his chest and letting your lips wander, pressing soft kisses over his golden skin. “That sounds really good, actually,” you murmur, your voice still laced with a dreamy haze. “But I don’t think I can walk.”

He lets out another laugh, his arms tightening around you. “I can carry you,” he offers, ever the gentleman, even now.

“Or,” you counter with a playful grin, trailing kisses up to his collarbone and then his jaw, “we could stay here, take a quick power nap by the fire, and then…” You pause, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I can ride you.”

Javier groans, the sound low and full of mock exasperation. “You’re definitely trying to kill me.”

Your laughter mingles with his as you capture his lips in a kiss, slow and unhurried. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you entwined by the warmth of the fire. His hands cradle your face as yours slide into his hair, fingers weaving through the dark strands.

The kiss deepens, turning languid and exploratory, a perfect blend of tenderness and desire.

With you in his arms, he feels whole, like every piece of you was made to fit into his. Time seems to stretch and stop, the crackling fire and the soft hum of your breaths the only soundtrack to your moment.

Here, in his embrace, you’re not just his lover; you’re his everything.

i have a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @thundermartini . @auteurdelabre . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @yourmommycallsmemommy . @larascorneroftheworld . @letsmeetintheafterglow . @lunatiquess . @myownwholewildworld . @pasc4lfuzz . @sjc7542 . @almostfoxglove . @shy-taylorsversion . @theredvelvetbitch . @xxbadchoicexx . @lumpatto . @haylee-e . @guelyury . @doblasftcisco . @ashhlsstuff . @kluvspedro . @goodvibesonly421 .

[luvs4matt]

I’m not trying to rush u, but when is soaked part 5 gonna happen 😭 I dying to what happened next

𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 , 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟓 ✿ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

“oh baby.. is daddy makin’ your mind all fuzzy? huh?”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - dilf!matt x subby!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - in which, when matt witnesses reader letting someone flirt with her, he has no choice but to remind her who she belongs to.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - SMUT 18+, daddy kink, sir kink, begging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cow girl, praise, breeding, size kink, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, princess, good girls, sweet girl, angel, babe, bunny)

𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 vulnerable, all by yourself. you find your way to your feet, running out of the bedroom. thank god lilly wasn’t home, because if she was, if she walked out of her bedroom, she would see you completely naked running around.

you finally found matt in the kitchen; you ran up to him and dug your face into his shoulder “matty.. m’sorry” tears start to well in your eyes, why would he leave you there like that? “yeah? y’gonna stop bein’ bad an’ lying, sayin’ that i’m mean when i have been so much nicer than i should’ve been after how you acted”

you nod “yes sir, i promise” he chuckles “you promise, huh?” you hummed as you nodded “well, then we should get my sweet girl out of the handcuffs, yeah?” you nodded again “please.. they are starting to hurt..” before he left the bedroom, he had put on a pair of sweatpants, and brought the key with him.

he turned you around as he grabbed the key from his pocket “there you go baby”

“thank you” he grabbed your waist “you wanna take your plug out too princess?”

“yes” he nodded “okay, just bend over the counter, alright?” you did just as he said, bending over the counter. you winced as he pulled it out “i know it hurts baby, m’sorry” he hugged you from behind before leaving kisses down your neck “need you matty..” he smirks “yeah?”

“mhm” you grind yourself back onto him “you think i teased you enough already tonight? hm?”

“yes sir” he turns you back around, placing his lips on yours. you were desperate, you tried to deepen the kiss but he pulled away “no baby, be patient. try it again and i’ll put you back in your cuffs”

“m’sorry” he kissed you again, this time, you moved at his pace. he lifted you onto the counter, never separating your lips. you gasp as you feel his fingers slowly trace up your thigh, he smiled “mm.. so sensitive” you let out a quiet whine, desperate for more attention.

“don’t worry princess, daddy’ll touch you soon, okay?” you nodded “okay.. just please don’t make it too long” he chuckles at your neediness “i won’t baby.. i won’t” he smiles as he kisses you.

he lifts you from the counter, bringing you to the couch. he sits you on top of him, allowing you to be on his lap “gon’ ride me honey?” you hummed “c’mon.. we’ve been working so hard on using our words, use ‘em” you rolled your hips against his bulge “yes sir, m’gonna ride you”

“good girl” you whimpered as you continued grinding on him “take my pants off sweet girl” you did as he said before getting back on top of him “can i now daddy?”

“go ahead angel” you line up your hole with his tip, he holds your waist as you sink down onto him. you struggled, his dick already so deep inside. it feels deeper with you being on top “need help babe?”

“yes.. please help me.. so deep..” he pushes you down until you have taken him all “see, you can do it” you sat there for a minute, in his arms, letting yourself get used to his size. no matter how many times you have sex, you’ve never got used to his size.

matt uses the grip on your waist to roll your hips, the sudden movements making you whimper “f- feels good..” he removes one hand from your waist, using it to hold your face “yeah?” you start to move yourself, bouncing on his cock.

you forgot all pain you were experiencing when he brought your face to his, your lips colliding together “just the prettiest little lips” he mumbled against you. you whined as he deepened the kiss.

you gasp as he suddenly starts thrusting up into you, you moan as he hits all of your spots “my good girl.. taking it so well” he bites his lip as he watches your face twist in pleasure “always- fuck- always take my dick like a fuckin’ champ, don’t you princess?”

you can’t comprehend what he is saying, you just know that you feel so good “oh baby..” his voice was laced with faux sympathy “is daddy makin’ your mind all fuzzy? huh?” your eyes rolled back. matt was right, your mind is all fuzzy, but you didn’t know he was right, you had no idea what he just said.

he brought you back into reality with a few taps on your cheek “i- huh?” he smiled “you’re so adorable.. you can’t even think straight” you couldn’t form a sentence, the pleasure was just so overwhelming “cum?” he wasn’t going to make you work for it this time “cum baby”

a loud moan erupted from your throat as you came around his cock hard “daddy’s close honey, it’s almost over” you whined in overstimulation “squeezin’ me so tight” he groaned.

as he was building his orgasm, he was also building your second one. “gonna cum with me sweetheart?” you frantically nodded.

he thrusted a few more times before he shot his load into you, triggering your orgasm “daddy!” he rides out your highs before you cradle yourself into him, allowing him to hold you, running his hands up and down your back “good bunny.. good bunny”

© luvs4matt

a/n - a little christmas present for you guys 💋💋

[imraespace]

―UNWANTED SURPRISE

SYNOPSIS: you've known your boyfriend for quite some time and he's made it quite clear that he hate surprises, but you just can't do it this year.

note: i was seraching up abt kaiser bc i dont really write for him and his ideal partner is a loving one so!! HE GETS A LOVING PARTNER.

genre: fluff, comfort heheh

Your alarm went off.

A grumble and groan left your mouth as you sluggishly moved to grab your phone. Once your finger finally found it, the phone, now in your hand became silent as your squint at your screen.

4:30 AM

You turned off your phone, letting it rest on your chest as your head turned to face the male beside you, resting soundly.

For once, he had a calm expression on his face. His chest rises with every soft snores that leaves his lips. As a habit, your fingers made it's way up to his face, caressing his cheeks as your attention focused on him.

But, your have something planned before hand. With one last caress, you planted a soft kiss on his forehead and carefully, made your escape out of the bed.

Quietly, you made it out of the bedroom and into the living room.

.

.

Stretching off the drowsy feeling, You grabbed his gift, well one of it. The other one isn't that far, you just gave it to one of your close friend just to make it easier. Said friend made a promise to drop it off!

So right now, you're focusing on breakfast! It's a really simple honestly, bacon, eggs and toast but with the toast, you cut off the sides, using it to make bread crust rusk. The sugary kind.

The smell that took over the kitchen made you hungry, but you refuse to eat anything without him here. As time slowly passed, breakfast was done and just on time, your doorbell rang!

Excitedly, you made it to the door and every bounce in your actions, you opened the door and was greeted with the gift. The dog pounced on you, licking at your face.

You hugged it closely, as your friend bid you goodbye.

The dog in your hand is a familiar one to both you and Michael. Every morning, leaving the house a certain dog always greets you both. Micheal took a liking to the dog so in your opinion, it was the perfect gift for him.

Making it back into the living room, you let the dog down as it began running around, making his surroundings familiar. You sighed, yet a smile on your face as your eyes followed the dog.

Now, the second gift makes sense. It was dog toys and dog food. You sat on the floor, watching the dog run away. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as your watch him, finally it calmed down and run up to you.

Your hand rested ontop of his head, paws on your chest.

Though, he started barking, filling the silence which wasn't a problem but you have a sleeping person inside..

"SHH or something.."

In response all you got was more noise..

A thought came to mind, the toys. You got the bag but the dog grabbed it out your hand and all the toys fell out.

"Oh.." You muttered as the dog ran to bite the closest toy, which was a squeaky one. Therefore more noise!

In the end you just let the dog do whatever, but you forbid it to fo near the tree. Decoration wise, it made you feel more close to the holiday. The memories of planning and decorating with him made your cheeks warm.

Though, footsteps broke you out of your daydream as a question was asked.

"What's happening?"

Your eyes made it's way onto the sleepy male who's trying to make sense of the random noises.

The dog, dropping the toy, and looked in the direction of a familiar voice. He barked and ran up to Michael.

"What.. Why is the dog here?" Micheal asked, watching as the dog gripped on his pj pants.

In response, you stared up at him, smile on your face as a hint of what you've been up to. His face dropped a bit, it didn't bother you one bit.

He stared down at the dog, of course he's happy that the stray dog he meets every morning was healthy and loved in his own home but.. how is he supposed to react?

He slowly made his way on the couch infront of you and just sat down, shoving his face in his palms. It was quiet, minus the occasional barks from the dog that doesn't know what's happening, waiting for Michael to interact with him.

You got up from the floor and made your way right beside him. You plopped yourself right next to him and simply rested your hand on his back, gently rubbing his back.

The silence spoke for itself, but you took it upon yourself to fill it.

"I know you hate surprises but I think you deserve a gift."

.

.

You climbed up on tye couch, got behind him and gave him a back hug, resting your cheek in his hair.

"Because I love you, happy birthday.. and merry Christmas."

IMRAESPACE || MASTERLIST

[supercimi]

Your friend has always been a bit carefree

Whenever he gave you those gifts, he basically just shoved them into your hands as If giving you some candy or something

He liked to joke around and get you in dumb situations all the time, sometimes those shenanigans got you in trouble, other times it ended in a rather underwhelming repercussions, like the flower bed incident when you were small.

Lucky for the both of you, the neighbourhood community had already wanted to get rid of that flowerbed, so you only got cleaning duty for three months because of what you two did

Maybe because of this, he would sometimes give you these gifts? He is a trickster and gets in trouble a lot yea but not a bad friend, u know?

Just yesterday, he told you that his next gift was gonna be awesome!

But why did he need you to wait in the square park for that?

...

It's been so long now...

How many hours have you been waiting?! And you were just praising him! He should just wait until you are back!! You shall not have his back!

Trudging away in anger and saddled with annoyance you finally reached your home

I mean homes, you two are neighbours after all,

"Hey! Where did that idio-"

Just as you snapped the gate doors open, the sight before you sucked any words you had left out of your mouth

"Oh, ops I got caught huh?" Your friend sheepishly confessed

"...." your gaping mouth couldn't catch up with your brain fast enough to close, but that was the least of your concerns right now

"You don't have any questions? " that same carefree tone and face yet, just what was going on?

There in front of you he stood, shimmer by shimmer he was fading away,

Words could not form, thoughts would not churn.

You could only stare

"Hey now, don't make that face," he laughed sheepishly like he did when he felt at loss

Why? What? How?

You could not say any of that

You couldn't even close your mouth

".....h..w..what?...how?" You finally managed to let out

Looking at his stupid face you wanted to claw the answers right out of his mind

But you couldn't, you wouldn't, even if you could.

"....because I made lots of mistakes?" He hummed as if thinking to himself

"So what! Why would this happen?!" Your confusion ignored, but that ignited your still mouth, and it finally spun its cries

"Because i made up for them all!"he boasted cheerily as if he wasn't fading more and more

"Wha?" Your confusion only multiplied but your words lost their strength

The passing time was only proved by his fading eyes

"...please just tell me your reasons" you tried a final time your earlier annoyanc and grievance at being stood up long forgotten

Looking at you for the uptenth time tonight, quite and kind, he wasn't someone who would have such a gentle look

"....because i care," smiling widely he answered vaguely yet again.

Streching your arms to grab that stupid figure, you barely had your words!

"That doesn't explain anything you doofus!"

You cried as your hands caught air

Your friend wasn't here anymore

.

...

....

.." ghr..dang..it...you.." blabbering your words, you could not speak anymore

You only cried in confusion

And that's okay

Despite every reality we had, you were always there for me.

You always went along with me

You had my back even when you didn’t recognize me

Be it in the past ir the future, or even in the present

You were my family

My friend

My teacher

My partner in crime

My only constant in the world

When you were gone, my world was gone

I searched for you, countless worlds and times, but they all aren't you

Well, they are you, but not you at the same time... Maybe that's why eventually i gave their original friends back to them

Because they were not my friend whom i lost

Maybe because i did that, i found you again

One final time

I had my family again for the last time

If the price for that was my life, it didn't really sound so bad

I hope you live on much more happily this time

We only had one life after all

Farewell, my friend.

Your friend keeps giving you very random gifts at completely random times. It seemed like an odd but nice gesture, until you realise each gift has saved your life from any sort of incident some time after accepting it.

[cherryxbooo]

You’re my ideal type

Summary: A video from a year ago of Oscar talking about his ideal type went viral, making his fans wonder why he chose his girlfriend. This leaves y/n with a lot of questions herself .

Note: First time writing for Oscar! I kinda went with the flow. Let me know what you think! 😌

Reader x Oscar Piastri

Genre: fluff/angst

It was a beautiful, sunny day in Monaco. I was out with two of my friends, enjoying brunch together and soaking up the good vibes.

We spent hours talking, laughing, and joking around—overall, it was a fantastic time.

Afterward, we decided to go for a stroll. That’s when we stumbled upon a gorgeous spot with an incredible view. For girls, that can only mean one thing: a photo session. And, of course, we took full advantage.

We snapped countless pictures of each other—exactly what I needed. I’d been wanting to update my Instagram feed, and I knew Oscar would appreciate a few of these too. A win-win situation if you ask me.

Hours later, we decided to head home. Parting ways was bittersweet, but we all had things to do.

When I finally arrived at the place Oscar and I shared, I immediately went inside, feeling my social battery completely drained.

I glanced at the clock and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before Oscar would be home. Feeling a little bored, I decided to tackle some household chores to pass the time.

Eventually, I finished everything and switched to full-on "bed rotting" mode. As I scrolled mindlessly on my phone, I remembered the stunning photos we’d taken earlier.

Sitting up, I started going through them, carefully picking out the best ones to upload to Instagram.

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yourusername Days like these ☀️💐

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oscarpiastri Pretties girl ❤️ by author

alexandrasaintmleux Gorgeous ❣️

yourusername Says you 💋

f1_dailylvr81 She's so girly coded love it 💅

fashionistaformula I can't be the only one thinking about that one interview of Oscar?

paistryln481 You're not alone, every time I see her I keep thinking about it

foryoutt16 Wait what? I'm lost, what happened?

cocosainzyy55 @foryoutt16 An old interview of Oscar when he was still in F2 resurfaced and he was talking about his ideal type and the description he gave matches nothing to his current girlfriend. People are suddenly bringing this up again, wondering why he didn't choose his ideal type.

foryoutt16 Oh damn that's rough...

The comments and likes flooded in, as they always did. Sometimes, I forgot that I was dating an F1 driver—it came with its own kind of spotlight.

But as I scrolled through the comments under my post, a few things caught my attention.

One comment in particular stood out: something about an old interview of Oscar.

Confused and curious, I decided to look it up. Little did I know, I was about to regret it...

My stomach twisted into knots as I watched the video, realization sinking in. Oscar described his ideal woman, and her characteristics were unlike ones I possessed. I felt a wave of insecurities and doubts wash over me, each word a reminder of how I didn't fit the bill for his ideal partner.

My heart sank with every word he spoke, describing his ideal woman's qualities - and every one felt like another reminder of how far off the mark I was.

I couldn't help but wonder, "Why did he choose me?" His words stung, and I questioned whether he settled for less than his ideal because he didn't have better options.

On cue, as if the universe was playing a cruel joke, Oscar returned home and called out my name. His voice echoed through the hallway, a stark contrast to the turmoil churning inside me. I hesitated, a mix of fear and confusion gripping me, as I debated whether to face him with this newfound knowledge.

He entered the room with a warm smile, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me. He greeted me with a gentle kiss on the forehead before starting to speak in sweet words.

"Hey babe, how was your day?" he asked, completely unaware of the recent discovery I made.

I forced a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside as I replied, "It was fine," my voice trying to mask the disappointment and insecurity that bubbled up.

The words left my lips, sounding hollow compared to the usual warmth in my tone.

Oscar sensed the hint of falsity in my fake smile. His observant nature picked up on the subtle cues of my distress, and he recognized that something was off. Yet, instead of immediately asking about it, he chose to hold off, observing to see if I would bring it up.

Oscar wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. He kissed my temple gently, his touch providing a temporary sense of comfort.

He knew something was bothering me and chose not to press, offering a moment of respite instead. "Do you want takeout?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

I replied softly, trying to match his tenderness, "Sounds good." Despite my conflicting emotions, I didn't want to dampen the mood by revealing my insecurities.

"Takeout sounds great," I said, attempting to sound cheerful.

Oscar reluctantly let go of me, reaching for the phone to place the takeout order. In his absence, I seized the opportunity to sneak a look in the mirror, as well as to search for pictures of Oscar's ideal type.

I scoured the internet, comparing every aspect of my appearance to the images of his ideal woman. The comparison fueled my insecurities, amplifying the feeling of not measuring up.

My tears threatened to spill as I stood there, comparing myself to Oscar's ideal, but before they could, I heard Oscar's voice calling out.

"Y/n baby, the food will be here in twenty minutes," he informed me. I swiftly wiped away the tears before responding, attempting to hide the vulnerability in my voice, "Okay, thanks for letting me know."

Splashing my face with water to compose myself, hoping to hide any traces of my tears and distress. With determination, I dried my face and returned to the room where Oscar was, trying to mask my vulnerability.

After the food came, we ate together. I was quiet, it was mainly Oscar talking which was odd because normally it was always me talking and he would listen. We were currently cuddled up together after eating

Despite our cozy cuddle on the couch, my mind was preoccupied with worries. Thoughts like "What if he leaves me?" and "What if I'm not good enough?" consumed me.

Oscar noticed my distraction and asked if I was alright, concern in his voice. I replied, "Just tired," and although he didn't fully believe it, he decided not to push further.

Oscar spoke up once more, his voice soft and reassuring. "Y/n?" he began, his eyes searching mine.

"You know I love you, right? If there's anything bothering you, you know you can tell me," he emphasized, his tone filled with patience and support.

I nodded, attempting to hide the depth of my worries and insecurities. "Yeah, I know. I love you too," I responded, trying to sound reassuring.

The words felt heavy, knowing the weight of my unspoken fears.

A few weeks had passed since that moment of insecurity, and I had been avoiding Oscar, even though we lived together. I had made excuses to skip every Grand Prix , claiming I was too busy with work.

Yet, here I was, facing the mirror on the morning of a home race, feeling utterly unprepared. The interview weighed heavily on my mind, and I wasn't in the right state to face it.

Standing in front of my reflection, I looked at myself, thoughts of my inadequacy resurfacing.

Oscar entered the room, his gaze settling on me. He positioned himself behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my head.

His presence brought both comfort and nerves as I stood in front of the mirror, still grappling with my insecurities.

He spoke softly, his compliment genuine and sweet. "I didn't know it was possible to be this pretty. You look amazing love," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

I stepped away from him, the compliment not offering the comfort it usually would. My actions were distant, as if I was subconsciously putting up a barrier.

"Thanks," I responded distantly, my tone devoid of the warmth that usually accompanied my words.

The fear of his departure and my sense of inadequacy still lingered in my heart, casting a shadow over the moment.

Oscar seemed puzzled by my distant behavior, his confusion evident. Seeing right through my attempt to avoid him, he asked gently,

"Baby, did I do something wrong? Why are you avoiding me?"

His voice was tinged with concern, his eyes filled with hurt at my distance.

I quickly responded, trying to change the subject. "No, you did nothing wrong. Uhm, shouldn't you leave for the race?"

Oscar looked at me, his gaze lingering on me before reluctantly letting it go.

"Wait, weren't you coming with me?" he questioned, his tone hinting at his confusion.

I responded with a slightly busted attitude, "Oh, uhm, I'm not done getting ready yet. I'll come later, though."

It was a lie, and Oscar seemed to sense that something was off.

Despite the passing time, he decided to focus on his own preparations while stealing a moment to kiss my forehead before leaving.

I took a moment to muster my courage, realizing that Oscar didn't deserve being pushed away because of my insecurities.

With a deep breath, I prepared myself to face the day and attend the race, pushing through the weight of my doubts.

As the hours flew by, I found myself standing in the garage, watching from afar, torn between my worries and the desire to support him.

After awhile I decided to go to the restroom since I still had some time before the race started.

As I was walking, I heard voices behind me, and my name being mentioned caught my attention.

I stopped to listen—not that I meant to eavesdrop, but hearing my name made it impossible not to.

From what I could tell, these girls were likely McLaren fangirls. Well duh after all, they were dressed in papaya colors.

Girl 1: "It's crazy that Oscar is still dating y/n. She doesn't even fit his ideal type."

Girl 2: "I know, right? Like, she's not even close."

Girl 3: "Yeah, he must be leading her on or something."

Girl 4: "Or maybe she's in it for the fame and money."

Girl 5: "Oh, definitely. There's no other reason she would be with him."

The girls' laughter echoed in my ears, each comment like a punch to my heart.

Girl 2: "Seriously, you'd think he could do better than her."

Girl 1: "Yeah, she's not even that attractive compared to the other girls he's dated before."

Girl 3: "I bet he'll realize soon that he could get someone way better."

Girl 4: "Well, if the fame and money aren't enough, then he's definitely settling."

I couldn't bear to listen any longer, my tears streaming as I fled to the restroom, seeking solace to hide my distress.

Time slipped away as I stayed there, isolated, wrestling with my tormenting thoughts and self-doubts.

Meanwhile, the McLaren garage buzzed with pre-race energy, but Oscar couldn’t focus. His eyes darted around the paddock, scanning for any sign of you.

Anxiety churned in his gut as he spotted his teammate leaning casually against a workbench.

“Lando!” Oscar called, walking over briskly.

Lando glanced up, eyebrows raised. “What’s up, mate?”

Oscar hesitated before blurting out, “Have you seen Y/N anywhere?”

Lando frowned, clearly puzzled. “No, mate, haven’t seen her. Matter of fact, I don’t think I’ve seen her around for the last few races. Is everything okay?”

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, mate. She’s been so distant lately, and I have no idea what I’ve done to upset her.”

Lando’s expression softened, a mix of pity and thoughtfulness. “Could it maybe have to do with that video that went viral again?”

Oscar blinked, confused. “What video? That old F2 interview of mine? That was years ago! I was just joking in most of it anyway.”

Lando shrugged, giving him a pointed look. “Mate, you might want to check the comments under her recent Instagram post. I think that’s your answer.”

With a sympathetic pat on the back, Lando turned and walked off, leaving Oscar alone with his thoughts.

He pulled out his phone, his fingers quickly navigating to your profile. The comments under your latest post hit him like a brick.

“Oh no,” Oscar muttered, his stomach sinking. “No wonder she’s been distant…”

He mentally kicked himself, remembering that dumb interview where he’d been too cocky for his own good.

“I didn’t even mean half the stuff I said,” he whispered to himself, cringing at the memory.

Before he could search for you and explain himself, a crew member called his name, dragging him toward the car for pre-race preparations.

“Great timing,” he muttered under his breath. But he made a promise to himself: as soon as this race was over, he’d find you and make things right.

Meanwhile, back to you, the restroom break had taken longer than expected. The initial plan to kill time before the race started had backfired; now, a dull ache was forming in my head, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease creeping up on me.

I leaned against the sink for a moment, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself, but the discomfort wasn’t going away.

Deciding it was best not to push myself, I pulled out my phone and quickly typed a message to Oscar:

Not feeling great. Heading back home. Don’t worry about me.

I hesitated before hitting send. He’d probably be confused or even concerned, but the last thing I wanted was to worry him.

With a sigh, I hit send and slipped my phone back into my bag.

As I stepped out of the restroom and headed for the exit, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.

On the way, I also let Oscar's manager know I left, just in case he didn't check his phone.

I knew Oscar would notice my absence, but today, it felt easier to retreat than to stay and face everything swirling in my mind.

Little did I know, Oscar was already worrying.

The race had ended, with Oscar clinching a solid P4, just behind Lando. Though pleased with his result, his mind was elsewhere.

He wanted nothing more than to see you, to feel your arms around him, and hear you tell him how proud you were—just like old times.

But as he scanned the crowd, his hope began to waver. You weren’t there.

His manager noticed Oscar’s distracted gaze and approached him. “Looking for Y/N?” the manager asked gently.

“She left you a message. Said she wasn’t feeling well and headed home.”

Oscar’s jaw tightened, his heart sinking. You hadn’t told him the truth.

A mix of frustration and hurt bubbled to the surface. Without a word, he decided to skip the team celebrations and headed straight home.

When Oscar arrived, he didn’t waste a second. Dropping his bag by the door, he called out loudly—his voice sharper than usual.

“Y/N!”

You were downstairs in no time, a soft smile on your face.

“Oh, hey, Osc! You’re back early. How was the race?” I asked sweetly, trying to act normal.

But Oscar wasn’t having it. His expression was hard as he stared at you.

“You would’ve known if you didn’t leave,” he said, his voice laced with frustration.

Guilt washed over me, and you stammered, “I’m sorry, Osc. I wasn’t feeling well—”

“Cut the crap, Y/N!” he interrupted, startling you. His voice was raised, something he rarely did.

“When are you going to finally admit the real reason you’ve been like this? Tell me! I’m sick of it!”

I flinched but couldn’t blame him. He deserved an explanation. At the same time, I’d had enough, too. My emotions spilled out, my voice breaking.

“How would you feel if people kept telling you that your partner is too good for you? That you’re not good enough, that you’re too ugly, not their type, only with them for the money?!”

Tears streamed down my face as you continued.

“And yes, it’s about that stupid interview of yours! I can’t help it, okay? Call me dumb, call me a crybaby, but this is too much!”

By now, I was full-on sobbing, unable to meet his gaze. But before I could crumble further, I felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me close.

His voice was soft now, gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve helped. We’re a team, remember?”

I sniffled, my voice trembling as I replied, “Those were your words, Oscar. I can’t take them back or change them.”

He sighed, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. “Babe, that interview was years ago. I was joking around the entire time. If you’d watched the whole thing, you’d see that.”

I shook my head, unsure, but he leaned back just enough to look at me.

“Since when is my favorite color pink?” he teased, a small laugh escaping him.

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh, too.

“That's better,” he said, smiling.

“Listen to me. Everything I said in that interview wasn’t true. I was 18, tired, and didn’t even want to be there. I was just trolling to get it over with.”

I laughed again at his confession, finally meeting his eyes.

“There’s that pretty smile,” he said, his tone softer now. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, but next time, talk to me, okay?”

I nodded, wiping your tears. “I will. I’m sorry for doubting you… for pushing you away.”

He smiled warmly, leaning in to peck your lips a few times.

“It’s okay, love. I get why you did it. But don’t you ever doubt yourself again, yeah? You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. If anyone doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

He cupped your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek before pulling you into a long, passionate kiss. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t you ever doubt yourself,” he whispered. “You’re my ideal type. Always.”

I laughed softly. “Alright, alright, I get it.”

Suddenly, Oscar scooped me up into his arms, bridal style, making me squeal.

“Osc! What the hell are you doing? Put me down!”

He grinned, shaking his head as he headed toward the bedroom.

“Nope. Let me show my gorgeous girl how much I love her.”

And let’s just say, the night ended perfectly. From that moment on, I never doubted his love for me ever again.

oscarpiastri posted on Instagram!

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oscarpiastri An amazing race to finish off the week. A big thank you to the entire team and the fans. Also a big thank you to my beautiful girlfriend for being the best support.

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yourusername So so proud of you Osc!!! Love you! 🩷

oscarpiastri Love you too pretty!

landonorris Well done mate 🙌 extra support is always great!

oscarpiastri Thanks man! You're right especially if she's just my type 😉

yourusername 🤭 ❤️ by author

lalalandnorris4you Oscar really gagged all of you haters purr 💅

frvrformulaonestan1 This is the cutest thing ever brb I'm going to cry 🥹

notyourfan481 Bro Oscar you don't have to lie we all know this ain't you

osclvy/n Girl stfu he isn't going to notice you ffs 🙄

lovelypeachlan4 You thought you did sum? Get out 👉🚪

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yourusername A little recap of last week 🤍

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yourbffuser Looking like a snack 😋😍🥵

yourusername Love ya 💋🫦

oscarpiastri Gorgeous 😍

yourusername Love youu Osc 🥰

alexandrasaintmleux So so so pretty 😘

yourusername Says you beautiful 😉💕

lv4motorsports81 She's so pretty omd

manyyynorriz She's gorgeous, don't know what people were on about 🤨

banananorrispiastry81 🤢

nothingthelessnorris4 And you did this for what ☠️

piastrybakerlvr Move on he isn't going to notice you 🥱

lvlynorrisss4 Yet your comment didn't make any change to this world... Grow up 🤦‍♀️

The end