#that girl gives no fucks and does what she wants

[cheftsunoda]

hiii i would love to request a fic w lando or oscar where reader is a famous actress/model/socialite and she’s always been deemed as problematic by the media. she’s more wild and has been seen smoking, partying, and getting w older guys so when the internet sees her w oscar/lando they lose it.

bad influence — op81

smau/blurbs

oscar piastri x !actress reader

Hollywood’s favorite wild child. Formula 1’s golden boy. Nobody saw it coming. While the world was busy turning her into a headline and him into a poster boy, they were sneaking around—hotel lobbies in the early hours, blurry FaceTimes after races, stolen weekends in countries neither of them were from. They’d been together for months. Quietly. Carefully. Until now. Because nothing stays secret forever.

fc : lily rose depp

—

ynluvsu

liked by troyesivan, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux & 5,027,003 others.

ynluvsu : a wise man once told me…don’t just celebrate your birthday…celebrate the whole month 🍸

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alexandrasaintmleux : gnocchi and leo need to have a play date soon!!

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : omg yes. need to see your beautiful face soon!

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

username0 : ugh why is alex in her comments? she is so trashy and alex is so classy. i can’t stand it.

↳ username5 : her and alex are friends and you do not know her personally so hush.

troyesivan : my fave kind of chaos. love you forever.

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : my troye boy. love you alwaysssss

versace : you ate down.

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : thx for the new bday attire

liked by versace

username10 : ugh oscar is in the likes too. he is too…angelic for someone like her. she is so disgusting

↳ username15 : y’all can hate her all you want but she absolutely MOGS all of you and versace made her bday wardrobe so i doubt she cares

liked by ynluvsu

franciscagomes : face card is absolutely lethal.

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : my keeeeeeks. i adore you.

liked by franciscagomes

↳ username11 : KIKA NOOOOOOOOO

yourbff : matching tramp stamps next?

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : only if you pick the design

liked by yourbff

username22 : when is she gonna realize this party girl act isn’t cute??

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : your pussy is way too dry to be riding my dick like this.

liked by yourbff, oscarpiastri and troyesivan

↳ username15 : PLS no one ever PR train this woman. i love her.

liked by ynlovesu

↳ ynluvsu : love you baby angel x

liked by username15

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gossipnewsx

liked by ynluvsu and 907,437 others.

gossiproomx : Spotted- YN LN making her fourth exit from a nightclub this week. Does Hollywood’s favorite wild child even remember what a film set looks like?

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view 53,085 other comments.

ynluvsu : yes i do. just how your father remembers what i look like from behind x

top liked comment

↳ username25 : i fucking love her

↳ username7 : she is so distasteful. why do ppl continue to give her a platform?

↳ ynluvsu : why did your mum keep you??

top liked comment

trixiemattel : a true diva never clocks out

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : MOTHERRRRRR ILY

liked by trixiemattel

↳ username15 : MY MOTHERS OMG

username30 : y’all acting like you wouldn’t party too if you were hot, rich, young and unbothered.

liked by ynluvsu

username33 : i stg if oscar gets dragged into her mess im gonna lose it.

↳ ynluvsu : oscar don’t know you mama

liked by oscarpiastri

username72 : some of us actually respect ourselves. can’t say the same for her. 💅🏻

↳ ynluvsu : your mama didn’t respect herself when she stayed with your daddy after he cheated. 😘

username55 : why is she still getting jobs when there are so many more talented and sane people out there??

username75 : every week is the same. she will never change.

username35 : does she actually even act anymore or is she just famous for doing drugs and being hungover??

—

By the time I finally made it back to my penthouse, my feet were killing me. I kicked off my heels in the hallway, letting them clatter somewhere near the marble, and tossed my tiny bag onto the kitchen counter. My phone buzzed again in my hand — group chat chaos, Instagram tags, the usual tabloid alerts. I ignored them all.

Instead, I slid open the balcony doors, letting the city hum in, and lit a cigarette. The cool air bit against my bare legs. My black Versace dress was sticking to my skin from the dance floor, gold chains lightly clanking in the wind. Then my phone buzzed again — but this time, it was him.

Oscar 🧡 wants to FaceTime…

I didn’t even think twice before answering. His face lit up my screen, all soft curls and sleep-heavy eyes, wearing the McLaren hoodie I’d “borrowed” last time and definitely never planned to return. He was lying on his side, clearly in bed, a little pillow crease on his cheek.

“Hey, trouble,” he said, voice all gravel and grin. “You make it home?”

I smiled. Couldn’t help it.

“Barely. I think my ankles gave up on me halfway up the elevator.”

Oscar chuckled, the sound like honey over static. “You looked like chaos tonight.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly, taking a slow drag. “That’s the goal.”

He rolled his eyes but kept smiling. “You always look good, but the new tattoo? I was ready to fly out there and do sinful things to you.”

I snorted. “So dramatic.”

“You’re not even drunk, are you?”

“Just the right amount,” I murmured, flicking ash off the side of the balcony. “Buzzed enough to consider texting you something wildly inappropriate, but sober enough to know better.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t want to?”

“Mm, maybe I do,” I teased, curling my legs beneath me on the couch. “You miss me or something?”

His expression shifted — softening around the eyes, his grin becoming something quieter. “Always,” he said, voice lower now, honest.

My heart actually flipped. Like an idiot.

“I know the whole world thinks you’re a menace,” he added, “but I just think you’re… an angel.”

I stared at him, stunned for a second, caught off guard. People always had opinions about me — too loud, too wild, too much — but he never tried to tame me. He didn’t flinch at the headlines or the chaos. He just kept showing up.

“You’re really bad for my reputation, Piastri,” I said finally, trying to keep it light.

“I can handle it,” he replied, smiling again. “Besides… I like being your secret.”

There was a long pause. Not awkward, just… full. Full of everything we weren’t ready to say out loud yet.

“I wish you were here,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

“I will be soon,” he promised. “Race weekend’s almost over. Then I’m all yours.”

I grinned, teeth and all, and said, “Good. Because I need my birthday present.”

Oscar laughed again, warm and fond and stupidly in love. “Then I guess I better it.”

“Bring yourself,” I said, already curling up on the couch with the phone still in my hand. “That’s all I want.”

He was still smiling when we hung up. My name softly leaving his lips as the screen dimmed to black. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t care what the headlines would say tomorrow.

—

ynluvsu added a post to her story!

seen by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, yourbff and 7,038,003 others.

lando : never thought id see oscar piastri whipped

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↳ ynluvsu : i just have that effect norris

liked by lando

↳ lando : but happy bday yn! can’t wait for tonight.

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↳ ynluvsu : ty lando. u dj tonight?

liked by lando

↳ lando : obv bday girl

yourbff : he is exactly what you deserve. glad he loves you like you need mamas. can’t wait to celebrate tonight.

liked by ynluvsu

↳ ynluvsu : love u sm

alexandrasaintmleux : omg so beautiful. happy birthday pretty girl! so excited to see you!

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↳ ynluvsu : tysm bbg. can’t wait to get an alex hug 🤍

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

—

I woke up with the sun creeping through the sheer curtains, golden and annoyingly cheerful for someone who fell asleep in last night’s makeup. My mascara was definitely somewhere on my pillow, my mouth tasted vaguely like tequila and cigarettes, and Gnocchi was sitting directly on my chest, staring into my soul like he’d been assigned the job.

“Happy birthday to me,” I groaned, shoving my hair back with one hand and reaching for my phone with the other.

42 unread messages.

15 missed calls.

I sat up slowly, wincing as I stretched — and then I saw them. The flowers. Bouquets. Everywhere. Lining the floor, flooding the counters, sitting on window ledges, tucked into corners. Roses, lilies, hydrangeas, wildflowers, peonies, sunflowers — like a full-blown garden had exploded in my penthouse. Each one had a tag. Some from brands. Some from friends. Some with questionable poetry. But the ones with the orange silk ribbons? All from him. Each card handwritten.

“To the girl who stole my heart.”

“In case I’m not the first one to say it—Happy Birthday, trouble.”

“Sorry in advance for burning your eggs. Love, Oscar.”

Wait—what? I stood up, still in my pink satin robe, and tiptoed through the flower maze toward the kitchen. And there he was. Oscar Piastri. In my kitchen. Wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, my actual “Birthday Girl” sash over one shoulder, and the softest smile I’d ever seen on him. Flipping pancakes like he belonged there. Which… he kind of did.

“You’re really here,” I whispered, still half-asleep, leaning against the wall like my knees might betray me.

He looked over his shoulder, dimples in full force. “Happy birthday, trouble.”

“You broke into my penthouse.”

“You gave me a key,” he said, placing a very wobbly pancake on a growing stack and walking over to me. “So technically, I broke in with consent.”

I laughed — messy, giddy.

“You’re insane,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around his bare waist as he tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

“And yet you keep letting me in.”

“You brought thirty bouquets.”

“You like dramatic entrances.”

“The sash?”

“You left it on the floor. Gnocchi told me to.”

I kissed him — because how could I not? And when I pulled back, he looked at me like I was the only thing that existed.

“You know,” he whispered, “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

I pressed my forehead to his and whispered, “and you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And somewhere behind us, the smoke alarm went off — because Oscar had absolutely burned the second pancake. But honestly? It was still the best birthday morning I’d ever had.

—

The thing about turning a year older when your public persona is “unhinged party girl with no chill” is that everyone expects you to go big. Which… fair. And I did. I went huge.

By the time we pulled up to the club, I was wearing a barely-there rhinestone dress that was glued to my body with sheer will and fashion tape, Oscar had that nervous-smiley look he always got when he knew he was about to be dragged into chaos, and Lando had already yelled “BIRTHDAY SHOTS” before we even got out of the car. Classic.

The VIP section was lit in gold and purple. My name was on the wall in LED lights. The DJ shouted, “THE BIRTHDAY GIRL IS HERE!” like I was royalty, and everyone screamed like I actually was. And honestly? It felt like I was.

Oscar held my hand as we walked in, his fingers laced through mine in a way that was casual but protective, like he already knew the cameras would find us eventually. He leaned down to whisper, “You look… amazing tonight.”

“Good,” I smirked. “Let’s make bad decisions.”

He laughed, kissed my cheek, and let me drag him into the glittering, smoky chaos. Charles and Alexandra showed up a few minutes later — she looked like a Vogue cover in a pink fluffy coat, and he was in that linen-shirt-slightly-unbuttoned. Alexandra handed me a shot with a wink and said, “You don’t age. That’s offensive.”

Lando was already dancing on the couch with two sparklers in his hands like an unhinged Sims character. I wasn’t sure he’d had dinner. Or water. Or a single coherent thought since 8 p.m.

Pierre and Kika arrived matching — in black and red — and honestly looked like the hottest Bond villains I’d ever seen. Kika handed me a wrapped box. Inside? A gold lighter. Iconic.

Everyone was drinking, dancing, laughing. Charles was trying to explain the Macarena to Alexandra, Oscar was holding my purse and swaying with Gnocchi who was currently wearing a rhinestone harnass, and Pierre and Lando were plotting to get the DJ to play One Direction. Again. And then the DJ cut the music and shouted:

“CAN WE HEAR IT FOR THE BIRTHDAY GIRL?”

The lights dimmed. Champagne popped. Sparklers erupted. And suddenly, my face was on the screens — behind-the-scenes pics, memes my friends had made, and a clip of Oscar in the corner of the frame saying, “She’s trouble, but I love it.”

I whipped around to glare at him — playful, not mad — and he just shrugged with that crooked grin, then mouthed, “Happy birthday, baby.”

And I melted. Right there in six-inch heels and too much body glitter. I didn’t care who saw. Because for once, I wasn’t just the wild girl in the headlines. I was the wild girl in love. With a boy who didn’t try to fix me. Just kept showing up with flowers, burnt pancakes, and that damn soft smile. And that? That was worth celebrating all month long.

—

The elevator doors slid open with a low chime, and suddenly it was quiet. No music, no flash photography, no champagne towers or DJ yelling my name like I was some kind of god in heels.

Just the echo of our steps on marble, the soft jingle of Gnocchi’s harness as he trotted ahead, and the sound of Oscar dropping the keys into the bowl by the door.

He had his arm around me the whole way home — not because I needed it, but because he wanted to. His thumb kept brushing over the inside of my wrist like he was grounding me, reminding me he was still here. Still real. Still mine.

I kicked off my shoes with a sigh that was mostly relief, and peeled my rhinestone dress down to the floor like shedding armor. I walked toward the kitchen in just his jacket and my makeup-smeared birthday sash, glitter sticking to the backs of my thighs and leftover adrenaline buzzing in my veins. Oscar was already there, barefoot, hair a mess, eyes on me like I was the most beautiful disaster he’d ever survived.

“You okay?” he asked softly, holding out a glass of water like I hadn’t just ruled an entire club.

“Yeah,” I whispered, voice rough from too much singing and shouting. “Just… tired.”

“Happy tired?” he asked.

I nodded and took a sip. “The happiest.”

He reached out, ran his hand down my arm, fingers brushing the curve of my new butterfly tattoo. “You were electric tonight. Like, everyone in that room felt it.”

I laughed quietly, leaning against the counter. “Good. I needed them to remember who they’re dealing with.”

“I never forget,” he said. “Even when you’re in sweatpants, yelling for Uber Eats.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Romantic.”

Oscar stepped closer, his hands finding my waist, soft and slow. “You were magic tonight. You are magic. And not the kind that burns out.”

There was something different in his voice. Not tipsy, not playful. Just honest. I looked up at him, the boy who had spent the last few months loving me in secret — in the shadows of headlines and champagne-fueled chaos, behind closed doors and under his breath.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked.

His eyes searched mine.

“That I want to be the one you come home to. Not just tonight. All of it.”

The words sat in the air between us like something sacred.

“I’m a mess,” I whispered. “You know that, right?”

“You’re my mess,” he said, pulling me in. “And I’ve never wanted anything more.”

I leaned into him, forehead to chest, breathing him in. The scent of cologne, champagne, and whatever spell he had me under. And in that moment — glitter-streaked, mascara-smudged, barefoot in a penthouse I sometimes still couldn’t believe was mine — I felt like the luckiest girl alive. Because he didn’t just survive the chaos. He chose it. He chose me.

—

The sun was way too bright for how much tequila I drank. My head ached in that dull, post-party way that felt almost nostalgic — like a reminder that last night had been loud, and full of too many bodies, too much glitter, and one boy who kept looking at me like I was the only thing in the room.

I slipped out of bed carefully, trying not to wake Oscar. He was curled up on my side, hand splayed across where I’d been laying. I watched him for a second — soft, still, a little messy from sleep — and then padded out toward the balcony with Gnocchi trailing behind like a tiny hungover shadow.

The city felt quiet from up here. My phone had 87 unread messages. I didn’t want to check a single one. I lit a cigarette, took one slow drag, and leaned my elbows on the railing. The smoke curled upward, lazy in the morning haze, and I exhaled like I was trying to let go of everything still stuck to my ribs — the headlines, the labels, the glitter that never quite washes off.

“You okay?”

His voice was scratchy, sleepy, soft — the exact opposite of how I felt. I turned to see Oscar in one of his sweatshirts that I stole, hair sticking up, eyes still heavy.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound casual. “Just… felt like I needed air.”

He walked over without saying anything and stood next to me, silent for a beat before gently plucking the cigarette from between my fingers and taking a drag like he’d done it a hundred times before.

“I meant it, you know,” he said after a moment, eyes fixed on the skyline. “What I said last night.”

My heart tripped.

“You remember that?”

Oscar looked at me then — really looked at me — and nodded. “I remember everything you do. Even when I probably shouldn’t.”

I felt that in my chest. Like a bruise. Like a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding for months.

“It just… it sounded too good. The way you said it.”

He didn’t flinch. “Why’s it so hard for you to believe that someone could actually mean it?”

“Because people like the version of me that sparkles. They don’t stick around once I start to fade.”

Oscar leaned in closer, one hand resting on the railing next to mine. “I didn’t fall for the sparkle. I fell for the girl smoking on her balcony at 9 a.m., thinking too much.”

I turned toward him, lips parted, trying to find something to say. Something that wouldn’t make me sound like I was already in too deep. But then he kissed me. Soft. Slow. A little sleepy. The kind of kiss that didn’t need explaining.

And when he pulled away, he said, “You don’t have to burn out to be magic, YN. You just have to let someone stay long enough to see it.”

I blinked back the sting in my eyes and nodded. Because maybe, just maybe, I finally believed him. Even if my hangover still hurt like hell.

—

ynluvsu

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lando, oscarpiastri and 11,090,002 others.

ynluvsu : if you ever think you know how to party...try partying with the grid. im hungover asf. thank uuu all for all the birthday wishes and thank u to all my friends for making my night the best :)

tagged : alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri, lando, charles_leclerc, pierregasly, franciscacgomes and yourbff

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view 295,044 other comments.

lando : i’m still at the club. send help.

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↳ ynluvsu : im coming buddy hold on.

liked by lando

↳ oscarpiastri : HELP IS ON THE WAY DEAR

liked by lando and ynluvsu

danielricciardo: i wasn’t there and yet i still feel hungover from these pics

liked by ynluvsu, oscarpiastri and lando

↳ ynluvsu : aw my 2nd fave aussie

↳ danielricciardo : i'll take it. happy bday yn!!

liked by ynluvsu

username8 : ugh she needs to stay away from all of them. she is gonna ruin their careers.

↳ lando : erm actually i am perfectly capable of ruining my career on my own. don't give yn all the credit

liked by ynluvsu and oscarpiastri

↳ mclaren : lando no. happy birthday queen yn!

liked by ynluvsu and oscarpiastri

alexandrasaintmleux : best night ever celebrating the prettiest angel i know. love u sm:)

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↳ ynluvsu : my babyyyyyyy <3

liked by alexandrasaintmleux

franciscagomes : omg i had so much fun. love you baby

liked by ynluvsu

charles_leclerc : i am never drinking again (until next weekend) HAPPY BDAY YNNNNNNN

liked by ynluvsu

username23: whole grid really said “watch me waste my career in real time”

↳ ynluvsu : don't be a killjoy. they can go out and have fun gma. i didn't force anyone to snort a line. chill.

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, pierregasly, charles_leclerc and lando

yourbff : i legit watched lando lose the contents of his stomach and then take back to back shots.

liked by its_yn, lando and oscarpiastri

lando : like a champ ;)

—

f1gossipgirls

989,002 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Oscar Piastri and what looked like half the F1 grid were spotted at YN LN’s chaotic birthday bash in Hollywood last night — and while we’ve been hearing whispers about her and Oscar for months, no one wanted to believe the grid’s golden boy would be caught up in her mess. But then a certain photo surfaced — and let’s just say, it wasn’t giving “just friends.” More like “handsy in VIP with zero shame.” Steamy club moment? ✅ Oscar holding her dog. ✅ The internet combusting by sunrise? Also ✅ Thoughts? Reactions? Cries for help? We’re all ears.

—

view 120,374 other comments.

username38 : he was supposed to be the sweet one 😭😭

username7 : i’m gonna be sick actually. i did NOT sign up for this character arc

username17 : this is literally the hottest thing he's ever done idc

username33 : can we admit she’s a little too much for him???

↳ username15 : no. no we can't

username27 : imagine getting mad that a 24 yr old is acting 24 😭

username55 : praying for oscar’s PR team rn 💀

username75 : unpopular opinion but she gives 🚩🚩🚩

username70 : can’t wait for him to regret this in 3-5 business days

username22 : how do you go from being the sweetest guy on the grid to this

username100 : he’s gonna look back on this era and CRINGE so hard

—

two month time skip

twitter!

gossiproomx : has anyone else noticed that yn ln has been like invisible lately?? she hasn't been seen at a club in almost two months and she has completely stayed off all socials.

view 200,300 other replies.

username00 : no clubbing? no unhinged stories? she better not be entering a boring era

username0 : what if she’s just actually happy now?? terrifying concept i know

username1 : bet it’s rehab or another PR reset 😭

username5 : if i was her i’d disappear too after getting dragged for breathing

username7 : she’s GROWING!! she’s HEALING!! we’re in her character development arc!!

username10 : notice how she goes quiet and suddenly oscar’s thriving?? just saying

username11 : y’all acting like she’s batman she literally just got tired of y’all

username13 : shocking what happens when the cameras go off and there’s no attention to chase

username15 : hopefully she’s learning how to be a little less exhausting

username17 : as long as she is leaving oscar alone idgaf what happened to her.

username20 : heard she might be working on something. she was seen over seas like two days ago.

—

Two months ago, the internet was clawing at me, calling me everything from washed to wild to a walking PR stunt. Now? Now I’m standing barefoot in Oscar Piastri’s kitchen in Monaco, wearing his McLaren hoodie and absolutely nothing else, trying to get his fancy-ass espresso machine to work while my hair does its best Medusa impression.

“Morning,” he mumbles, voice gravelly with sleep, wrapping his arms around me from behind like he’s magnetized. “You’re fighting the machine again?”

“I refuse to let a glorified kettle defeat me,” I mutter, still pressing buttons like I know what they do. “Besides, I like the dramatics. Keeps me grounded.”

Oscar laughs against my shoulder, warm and rumbling, and presses a kiss to my jaw. “It’s literally one button, baby.”

I roll my eyes, but lean back into him anyway, letting the quiet soak in. The espresso machine finally hisses to life — probably out of fear. It’s been like this every day. Mornings slow and sticky with sunlight. Toast we always burn. House or whatever weird playlist he’s gotten obsessed with that week. Walks along the harbor with Gnocchi tugging at the leash. Me working in secret, locked in the office with headphones and caffeine while Oscar trains or sim races or sneaks in to kiss my shoulder mid-edit. The media thinks I’ve vanished. The internet thinks I’m in hiding. But the truth? I’m just…happy. For the first time in what feels like forever.

“Your eyebrows are furrowed,” Oscar says, holding out a mug and watching me with sleepy eyes and bedhead that somehow still looks like a photoshoot. “Dangerous. You writing an essay in your head?”

“Maybe,” I say, curling up on the kitchen stool. “Or just plotting world domination. Same difference.”

He grins. “Still not gonna tell me what the secret project is?”

I smirk over my mug. “Not until I know it won’t flop.”

“It won’t,” he says, so certain it nearly stuns me. “Because it’s you.”

God, this boy. This quiet, ridiculous, big-hearted boy who never once tried to tame me — only held the fire steady. We eat breakfast with our legs tangled under the table, still yawning. Later, I’ll work until my brain fries. He’ll come home, kiss my forehead, read over my shoulder even when I tell him not to. And when the world comes knocking again — and it will — I’ll be ready. This time, I won’t be showing up in glitter and smoke. This time, I’ll be coming back with purpose. With peace. With him. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the biggest plot twist of all.

—

ynluvsu

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, franciscagomes & 11,403,123 others.

ynluvsu : retired menace.

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gossiproomx

2,037,003 likes.

gossiproomx : Miss YN LN was spotted for the first time in 2 months looking better and brighter than ever. She was seen two days in a row in Monaco. She was smiling, glowing and even signing things for fans. She recently posted a life dump which featured a few photos of her, a mystery man and two F1 Wags. What happened?? Y'all are gonna hate me for this but she looks GOOD.

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username00 : she really disappeared, got loved on, healed her skin, and came back glowing. legend

username0 : lowkey i feel like she just needed someone to love her and help her see she could heal.

username17 : the fact that kika and alexandra are in the dump too?? oh she’s in the circle now

username1 : she’s literally just soft launching peace and i love that for her

username5 : girl disappears for two months and suddenly everyone forgets the chaos 💀

↳ username15 : u must be fun at parties. let ppl grow asshole.

username10 : she’s still the same girl that started a fight over bottle service don’t let the lighting fool you

—

The countdown hit zero and the world exploded. I sank into the soft couch in Oscar’s Monaco apartment, phone warm in my hand, watching the trailer play on loop. This film — my film — the one I’d kept secret through months of silence and sweat and sleepless nights, was finally out there.

A story about pain, survival, and how the girl the tabloids called “problematic” was really just fighting to be seen. Not just a wild party girl. Not just a headline. But a survivor.

My phone buzzed nonstop — messages from friends, industry legends, even Reese Witherspoon calling it “brutally honest and beautifully done.” Tweets, posts, shares flooding in. Netflix was already asking about distribution.

Oscar came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, his breath warm against my neck.

“You did that,” he said softly, voice thick with pride. “Not just the movie. You bared yourself. You owned your story. And damn, you’re incredible.”

I leaned back into him, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I was so scared it wouldn’t be enough.”

He kissed my temple, fingers tracing lazy patterns along my arm. “It’s more than enough. It’s everything. You’re more than those headlines. And now? The whole world’s about to find out.”

For once, I didn’t have to hide behind the chaos. This was me. Every broken piece and every triumph. And for the first time, it felt like I was finally free.

—

f1gossipgirls

3,041,505 likes.

f1gossipgirls : Many many familiar faces at the premier of YN LN's new film. Over half the grid showed up and Oscar even walked her down the red carpet (we are totally crying). YN LN delivered a story that was raw, powerful, and hers. Say what you want, but there’s something special about watching a woman take back her narrative in front of the very world that once tried to write it for her. We love you, YN. The comeback era is officially cinematic.

—

view 902,124 other comments.

username15 : Oscar walking her down the carpet like she’s royalty?? yeah i’m sobbing

username1 : it’s the way he’s looking at her like she hung the moon. we’ve lost him for good

username00 : from scandal queen to respected filmmaker. this is the kind of character development i live for

username0 : never thought i'd be crying over her but here we are. wow.

username5 : i haven’t liked her before but… okay, that was powerful.

username7 : not oscar being a red carpet boyfriend… when did that happen

username10 : okay but how long until she’s back in the headlines for starting a fight at a brunch

username20 : i don’t care how “raw” it was, i’m still side-eyeing

—

It hit me when the lights of the red carpet blinded me—this was real. No turning back. No hiding. No editing who I was to fit what the world wanted me to be. This was my night. I clutched Oscar’s hand like a lifeline as the car door opened. The second our shoes hit the pavement, the flashbulbs started. A blur of camera shutters, yelling, people calling my name like they’d always known how to say it kindly.

Oscar leaned in close, his voice low and steady in my ear. “Breathe. You’ve got this.”

I glanced at him, trying not to cry too early in the night. “Do I?”

He smiled, that slow, steady one that always made me feel grounded. “You told your truth. The whole world’s just catching up.”

He didn’t let go of my hand once as we stepped onto the carpet. I could feel the buzz in the air — fans pressed against the barricades, calling out. I heard my name more than I ever had, and this time… it didn’t sound like an accusation. It sounded like love.

Oscar kept whispering things into my ear between stops for photos.

“You’re glowing.”

“You’re the most beautiful person here.”

“I’m so proud of you I could burst.”

“If they don’t give this movie ten awards, I’ll fight someone.”

And finally—

“I love you. You know that, right?”

I blinked up at him, stunned. I hadn’t expected him to say it here, now, while I was wearing a floor-length custom Valentino gown and trying not to trip in six-inch heels.

But I didn’t hesitate. “I love you too.”

The chaos quieted after that. At least in my head. When we entered the theater, I wasn’t prepared for the roar. The applause started before the movie even played. My eyes scanned the crowd and immediately welled with tears. There they were.

Lando, in a velvet jacket that was slightly wrinkled, standing and clapping like I’d just won an Oscar. Charles and Alexandra, hand in hand, Alexandra already crying. Pierre and Kika blowing me kisses. Even George and Carmen were there, grinning from ear to ear. I’d never seen so many people who had once just tolerated me — now celebrating me. When the film ended, there was silence for a second… and then it happened. A standing ovation. Long. Loud. Endless. My ears buzzed. My knees wobbled. I didn’t know where to look until Oscar pulled me in and kissed my forehead.

“You did it, baby,” he whispered. “You really did it.”

My mascara was already halfway down my cheeks when I turned to see Charles climb up to the stage to wrap me in a hug, followed by Pierre, then Kika, then Lando shouting, “Make room for your favorite nightmare!” as he shoved through and kissed my cheek.

The grid surrounded me. As friends. As family. They didn’t care about the scandals. The bad headlines. They’d seen me spiral and they’d stayed. And now they were watching me rise. And for the first time in a long, long time — I didn’t feel like a mess trying to be something better. I just felt like me. Whole. Loved. And finally, finally free.

—

oscarpiastri

liked by ynluvsu, lando, charles_leclerc & 14,007,543 others.

oscarpiastri : my love. my muse. my everything. i am endlessly proud.

tagged : ynluvsu

—

user has disabled comments on this post.

—

[bi-writes]

I miss John and his wife!!! she has so much personality I'm obsessed with her. is there anything she does that can really fuck with John when she's truly pissed? is there anything she can do that cracks that unflappable exterior?

he's been patient, all day—ever the gentleman. (18+, super dubcon lol)

he didn't bat an eye when you told him you paid an exorbitant amount for new tires on your car. he didn't react when you told him he didn't need to fix the sink anymore since you had hired a plumber while he was deployed. he didn't flinch when you told him that you threw out his favorite socks.

but this? this won't do.

the package of foil crinkles between your fingers. you set your hand down harder against his chest, glaring up at him as he pauses with his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties.

"what the fuck is tha'?" john mutters. you arch your back, touching your nose to his.

"need me to teach you how to put it on, baby? is that it?"

"not wearing that," john hisses. his entire face scrunches in anger, and you glare right back at him, your nose twitching as you meet him head-on. two can play at this fucking game—if he wants to be a bitch, you can be an even bigger one.

"yeah? and i'm not having your baby at the chance of you being gone for fucking months, john. so you will put it on—"

you cough when he grabs you around the jaw, puckering your lips as he shuts you up. you spit as much as you can, but he just opens his mouth a little, laughing.

"you're a naughty fuckin' girl," john mutters. "and usually, love...i don't mind. but this? this, i can't forgive."

you growl when john maneuvers you underneath him. he turns you over onto your stomach, pressing down, and you snap your jaws when he grips both of your wrists easily in one hand and holds them crossed behind your back. he uses his weight to keep you down, and you snarl when he rips your panties open.

"don't you dare, john," you tell him. "don't you fucking dare—!"

"yeah, you're beggin' for it, swee'eart, look how fuckin' wet you are."

you gasp when he fills you. you gurgle, immediately going soft underneath him as you press your hips back to meet him and open your mouth in a soft moan.

"there she is..." john hums. "look at 'er...pretty cunt just likes me too much, know tha', honey?" he smacks your ass gently, just enough to make a soft sound echo through the room, and you whimper as he leans over you and yanks on your hair to bring you upright. you cry out, leaning your head back against his shoulder, and he grips you around the throat and holds you there. "i let a lot of things y'do slip by. let you spend my fuckin' money. let you spit on me. let you scream...and bite...and start fights with men that y'know i'll have to finish, but this?" he sucks just under your jaw, using the leverage against your body to drag his hips back, feeling the tip nearly fall before he pushes back inside of you, hot and heavy. you whine, your eyes rolling back, and he laughs again. "we fuck the way god intended, y'understand me?"

when he kisses you, you kiss back. the slow rocks of his hips placate you, and when he pulls away, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck as he quickens his pace. the soft smack of your skin is easy-going with how wet you are, leaking, spilling, so turned on, the only name you're remembering is the one that belongs to him—price.

"i love you so much," he whispers into your ear. when he lets your hands go, you search for his, intertwining your fingers, keeping him holding steady onto you.

"i-i love you, too, john—"

"i know," he groans. "can fuckin' feel it—so tight—"

you like to fight. you like making john angry, because he makes you angry, but when he has you like this, you lose yourself. you do love him. you do want him. you want to be attached to him in all ways, and if growing half of him will give you a chance to keep him tethered here, then fuck it—why not? give him a baby, two, or four, it doesn't matter, maybe then he'll stay in your bed and stop leaving you and tell you more how much he loves you, maybe he'll mean it this time.

you're smiling when you sink back into the mattress. giggly, post-orgasm, his cum milky and heavy as it slips down your thighs. john is sitting up next to you, squinting at his phone as he scrolls through it and purses his lips. something must be upsetting him, because he keeps kissing his teeth and shaking his head.

you roll over onto your back, looking up at him. you reach up and touch along his bearded jaw, running your knuckles down the sharp line there until you can trace your thumb along his bottom lip. he glances over at you finally, narrowing his eyes. suddenly, the post-orgasmic bliss fades, and you're staring at your absent, terrible, no-good, cocksucker of a husband.

"need you to do something for me, baby," you coo.

"what's that?"

"gonna need the morning-after pill. could i use your credit card?"

"fucking brat—"

[t6ji]

— keep it secret.

toji as your brother’s best friend who’s also like a brother in public but fingers you secretly behind the doors is just…

your brother left to grab snacks.

ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops. enough time for a grocery run. not enough time to be doing this. not enough time for you to be in toji’s lap, thighs spread, skirt bunched around your waist, and his fingers knuckle-deep inside you.

but here you are anyway.

the door’s still shut. your breathing’s not.

“fuckin’ filthy,” toji mutters against your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin like he could taste your pulse. “i don’t even have to ask if you’re wet.”

you are. soaked, actually. embarrassingly so.

his fingers slide out and back in with ease, curling slow, dragging against that one sweet spot that makes your back arch and your knees shake. he knows exactly what he’s doing. of course he does. this man’s dangerous with his hands and even worse with that smug-ass voice.

“what would he think, huh?”

toji’s mouth moves lazily along your jaw, kissing between words, fingers never stopping.

“his sweet little sister like this—legs wide, whimperin’ in my lap like she’s never been touched before.”

you try to bite your lip to keep the sound in, but it slips anyway—soft, high, trembling at the edge.

toji grins.

“that’s it. let me hear you.”

his thumb brushes your clit, featherlight. teasing. “toji..” you jerk. he laughs, low and dark.

“you’re so fuckin’ sensitive. has no one touched you like this before?”

you don’t answer. you can’t. not when your body’s already reacting to him like it’s the only thing that matters.

“you’re squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby,” he groans, pressing his palm harder against you, letting you grind down. “you want more?”

you nod. it’s pathetic how quick it is. how desperate.

he rewards you with a slow roll of his wrist, fucking into you deeper, the rhythm dragging slick sounds into the air between you. your thighs are shaking. your hands are fisting the hem of his shirt. your eyes are glassy and wide and blinking way too fast.

“so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he says, voice quieter now. tender. cruel.

“fuckin’ leaking all over my hand and you’re still takin’ it like a good girl.”

you don’t realize you’re clenching around him until he groans again—this time sharper, almost strained.

“yeah, keep doin’ that and you’re gonna cum all over me.”

you whimper. your hips are chasing his hand now, rolling without control. you can’t even be embarrassed about it—not when his fingers are everywhere you need them to be.

“you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

he nips your earlobe, free hand sliding up your stomach, holding you tighter.

“gonna let me make a mess outta you before he gets back?”

you nod, breathless. you’re right there, dizzy with it. and the second his thumb presses down—

you shatter.

quietly, but fully. jaw slack, back arched, thighs trembling as your body gives in. his fingers never stop moving—just enough to pull it out of you. just enough to worship it.

“there we go,” he whispers. kisses the side of your face like you didn’t just cum on his hand. “that’s my girl.”

you’re still shaking when he finally pulls out, wiping his fingers along your inner thigh like he wants to leave a mark there.

and then—

he licks them clean.

“next time,” he says with a smirk, as you catch your breath, “you’re riding me.”

t6ji | 2025 prod — do not copy, reuse, or translate anything written on this blog.

[lizzieisright]

party

Summary: After being a nervous mess, Abby finally finds the courage to talk to you.

Tags: nervous wreck!Abby, fem!reader, first meeting, college!AU.

Notes: I went through my old drafts and found this thing that I wrote after watching the Bottoms like year and half ago, so this is heavily inspired by it and by the party by Charlie XCX.

-/-/-/-/-/-

Abby is nervous as she sits next to you on the balcony. Her house is loud, people are laughing and drinking and counting as someone drinks the whole bottle. 

But her heart is louder, because you are here. You came to her party. 

You seem so chill and relaxed, and Abby is a mess. Her hands are sweaty, she barely keeps her thighs from jumping up and down, and Abby prays to all gods that you won't notice. She doesn't know where her courage came from, to just follow you outside, but right now this courage is packing its things and leaving.

"It's loud." You say to start a conversation, and Abby's heart almost jumps out of her ribcage.

"Yeah. Do you like it?"

"What?" 

"The party."

Abby is so desperate to know. She did everything to make it perfect: your favourite drinks, your favourite music for dancing, your favourite games - it is here today. Her house is decorated in your favourite colours, and it's borderline creepy how she is obsessed with you and how much she knows about the girl she talked a few times to, but Abby is shy. She can't just talk to you and ask you on a date, she has to throw party after party hoping you'd come through. 

And today you came, and she almost threw up from nerves when she saw you coming in. 

"Yes. If I knew you threw cool parties, I would have come the other times."

You called her party cool, oh god. Oh god, Abby is going to die. 

Abby doesn't know what to say, too afraid of saying something wrong, and her mind is reeling because she can't just sit in silence! It's her chance to talk to you and make you like her, and Abby is silent, what the fuck! 

“Does it mean you'll come next time?” Abby asks, not hearing herself from how loud her heart is. You smile at her, and Abby clutches the bench so hard she hears it creak. You look like an angel, she can't handle it - it's overwhelming to interact with you.

“Probably.” You chuckle playfully and Abby goes into error 404 brains not found. “Sometimes I need to study.”

Abby swallows, hard. Say something! Say something, goddamnit! 

“Do you want a drink?” Abby blurts, not coming with anything more smart than this. She seriously needs a breather before she goes into cardiac arrest from being so close to you. 

“Got it right here.” You show her your plastic cup. “But I won't mind a refill.”

Oh thank God, Abby thinks and nods, reaching for your cup. Your fingers touch hers and Abby shivers, her breath is caught in her throat. She is electrocuted by you, the cold of your skin lingers on hers and she can't help her blush. 

“What do you drink?” Abby doesn't need you to tell her, actually, she already knows, but she is self-aware enough to know it would be creepy to just go and get what you want. 

You give her the name of your drink and Abby nods before going back to the house. 

The moment she is out of your sight, she takes a deep, shuddering breath: how is it even possible to feel so much for someone she doesn't really know? How do you strike so much in her just by existing? Abby never cared about what others think of her, but she is desperate to be enough for you.

Abby suddenly thinks that you might use Abby's leave as an excuse to also leave, since she was probably weird as fuck and made you uncomfortable, and it scares her so much her hands are trembling as she pours your drink. 

“Someone's got their shit together.” Nora chuckles when she pours her own drink at the table. “You are going to her?”

“Yeah.” Abby swallows. “I can't fucking think around her, Nora. What do I even say to her?”

“Ask how her day is going, what she watched recently. Easy stuff.” Nora helps. She makes fun of Abby for being such a wreck when it comes to you, but she is a good friend who can read the room. “You've got this, Anderson.”

Abby whines helplessly, but she needs to see you and hear your voice, and no amount of fear will stop her now. So Abby takes the cups and goes back to the balcony, praying to every deity you're still there. 

You smile when you see her and Abby smiles back, unable to look into your eyes, her chest fluttering.

“Thanks.” You take your cup from her hand and Abby shudders again when your fingers meet. 

It's not a warm night, and Abby only now picks up on the fact that you're cold. Abby panics, looks around to find any kind of blanket, but there's nothing. 

“Sorry, just a sec.” Abby tells you and disappears again. 

You're puzzled, but you wait for her anyway: you have nowhere to be and you're curious about Abby. She's always seemed intimidating - one of the reasons why you didn't dare to show up to her parties - but right now she is so sweet to you, shy even, and you wildly assume she is one of those sweet kind people who have resting bitch face.

Abby is cringing at herself as she takes her softest jacket from her bedroom - it's corny and obvious, you'll crack her in a second after it, but Abby can't help herself. She wants to have some part of you to herself, even if it's your perfume. Abby quickly tries to get rid of this thought, but she hopes you won't give it back to her so she'd have an excuse to talk to you. 

“Here.” Abby says awkwardly and shows you her jacket. “You seem cold.”

“A little bit, yeah.” You smile softly and Abby screams inside. 

There is no difference between being brave and being stupid - otherwise there's no explanation why Abby put her jacket around your shoulders herself and why she didn't fall apart right away when you are so close. 

You lift your cup and Abby catches up and clinks her cup against yours. 

“Cheers.” You smile at her and only now, in the morning lights, you notice her blush. “Thank you for giving me your jacket.”

“No problem.” Abby says, but internally she is beating herself up for being such a grump. “So, uh, Have you watched anything good lately?”

Abby knows she sounds lame, and you don't even know that she uses the line that Nora told her, but she is out of ideas. And then your eyes light up like you definitely want to tell her about it, so Abby counts it as a win.

"Have you seen Severance?"

Seriously, Abby is going to light a candle in a church because the fact that she watched Severance and the conversation stops being so awkward is a real case of divine intervention.

You're sweet, and your smile literally makes Abby's world brighter (even though you two disagree on a few points), and if she could she would stay here with you, forever.

You tell Abby your opinion about Milchick's arc, and only thing Abby is noticing is that you're sitting closer to her, close enough for Abby to feel your body heat and holy shit her face is burning. Now she can smell your perfume and then you laugh at something Abby said and it's a full body laugh, meaning you lightly slap her knee and oh God. Oh God.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" You ask, worried, when Abby bluescreens so hard she stops moving. Fuck, she stops breathing.

"Uh, no- no, I'm fine." Abby smiles, but your hand is still here, and you're- "You're so pretty."

What the FUCK!!! Why did Abby tell you that? Where was the brain-to-mouth filter? whathefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck!!!!

Before Abby tries to kill yourself by wishing for it really hard, you giggle and your eyes are sparkling. Oh. Oh, maybe Abby doesn't have to die.

"Thank you. You know, I'd never think you'd be shy."

"Well, here I am." Abby says weakly, still riding the adrenaline high of not weirding you out.

"It's cute." Abby blushes to the roots of her hair and you giggle again. Abby can listen to this sound forever.

You look over the balcony where the sun is up and morning people are already jogging and being all put together, and Abby has a sinking feeling you're going to leave.

"It's getting late. Or, well. it's getting early." You chuckle at your own joke and it's adorable. "I should get going."

"Oh, yeah, Of course."

Abby visibly deflates when you return the jacket, but then you take your phone out and ask the best question ever.

"Can I get your insta?"

Abby barely contains her excitement as she taps her handle with shaking fingers. You smile, say your goodbye and leave.

Abby waits for a minute just to make sure you won't hear her. She falls on her bed. She screams into her pillow, rolls on her bed and then screams some more.

"Got your girl?" Nora laughs when she comes to check on her.

Abby blushes and throws the pillow at Nora's face.

But yeah. She got her girl.

[kxsagi]

HEYYYY I JUST CAME HERE TO SAY THAT I LOVE YOUR WORKS!! And also, are perhaps a fan of f1? If you are, can you please make a blue lock boys x f1 driver!reader? I think it’s a cool crossover and I haven’t seen a lot of them in the blue lock fandom so it would be nice to have new contents💗

“𝐯𝐚 𝐯𝐚 𝐯𝐨𝐨𝐦”

a/n: THANK YOU BABES!!!

i'm not a serious fan, but i do think that F1 is cool as hell and i would def be down to see the movie!

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, shidou ryusei, kaiser michael, karasu tabito, and barou shoei

isagi yoichi

isagi’s already obsessed with reading plays, so the moment he saw you overtaking two cars on a rainy track at 300 km/h, he short-circuited. 

“did you see how she predicted that corner?? she didn’t even brake. she’s literally– oh my gosh i’m in love with her.” 

he’s your biggest cheerleader. he wears your merch to blue lock practice. he made his own "driver! you x isagi" twitter account and keeps replying “W” under every race win post. 

he tries to relate by talking about how football also requires good reflexes and team strategy… but you once let him sit in your simulator and he crashed in 0.4 seconds. 

“yoichi, there’s a wall, don’t–” BOOM 

refuses to let you drive him anywhere but gets incredibly flustered when you call him “slowpoke.” 

“i’m not slow! you’re just– you’re literally trained for this!!” 

when you bring him to a race for the first time, he wore noise-cancelling headphones, sunscreen, and packed three bottles of water. boy was acting like he was going to war. 

itoshi rin

rin swears he doesn’t care, but he has your race schedule memorized down to the millisecond. 

“you’re racing in monaco this week, right? i checked the weather. track’s gonna be tricky. don’t fuck it up.” 

he says that with his arms crossed, standing outside your trailer with a bag full of fresh fruit and electrolyte drinks. 

jealous of your car. not in a weird way, just bitter. “why does she talk to the car like that. i swear i heard her say ‘good girl.’” 

you offered to take him for a lap once and he glared at you like you just insulted his entire bloodline. 

secretly goes insane when he sees you in your race suit. he pretends not to look, but his eye twitches. 

if anyone tries to flirt with you on the grid, rin is immediately in silent death glare mode. 

“are they your engineer or something?” “that’s the FIA president.” “okay. and?” 

itoshi sae

sae fell for you the moment you told a reporter to “grow a pair” when they asked if racing as a woman was “too dangerous.” 

has a very dry but deeply supportive boyfriend style. posts one photo of you on his story like “podium again. cool.” 

but he’s literally watching the livestream, checking your sector times, and texting your team principal like “she needs new tires. tell her.” 

when he visits the paddock, everyone’s scared of him. it’s giving silent, rich, bored, and disgusted by most people. 

you once threw your helmet in rage after a DNF and he simply picked it up, handed you a water bottle, and said: “you’ll destroy them next week. now stop sulking.” 

secretly wants to kiss you after every race, but acts like he’s too cool for PDA. 

when you crash for the first time (even if it’s minor), he FLIES out of his seat and almost decks a camera guy on his way to the medical center. 

nagi seishiro

“woah, you drive go-karts for a living? sick.” “… it’s formula 1, sei.” 

doesn’t know what’s going on most of the time, but loves tagging along because the seats are comfy and you keep winning. 

he finds the speed kind of fun… until you take him drifting in a parking lot at night. 

“okay i’m gonna throw up. i saw my soul leave my body.” 

nags you to buy him team jackets in every color. now he’s got the full outfit: oversized jacket, hat, lanyard, and even a custom “NAGI” headset. 

he once got bored during qualifying and fell asleep in the hospitality suite. woke up when you won pole and went: “yay, good job, babe.” 

his phone background is you mid-race with your visor down. you asked him why and he went: “you look like a cool villain. i like it. run me over, next?” 

mikage reo

THE MOST SUPPORTIVE BOYFRIEND EVER. he’s literally built to be a paddock husband. 

walks around the grid with a rolex, sunglasses, and a laminated pass with “DRIVER GUEST - REO MIKAGE” like it’s the met gala. 

screams when you overtake someone. leaps up in celebration like he just won the world cup. 

“SHE’S P1! SHE’S P1, BABY, LET’S GOOOO!!!” 

once tried to bribe your race engineer to let him wear your helmet for “just one picture.” 

owns every possible merch item with your face on it. mousepads. pillows. tote bags. even a personalized coffee mug that says “#1 DRIVER GIRLFRIEND.” 

he is so down bad every time you take your gloves off. 

“how are your hands so hot when you just drove for 2 hours straight. what the hell. marry me.” 

already planning a rich people wedding at a racetrack. he’s dead serious. 

shidou ryusei

“babe. listen. let me ride on top of the car. just once. just while it’s moving. i need the rush.” 

absolute menace in the paddock. he’s not allowed to touch anything anymore after he once tried to rev the engine mid-setup. 

he finds everything about you so hot. the danger. the speed. the fact that you can do donuts in a $20 million car. 

“yo that crash was INSANE– wait, you’re okay right? good. now that crash was SICK.” 

wears your race suit around the house. nothing else. 

makes out with you after every race like it’s the end of the world. doesn’t care who’s watching. 

he yells your name from the grandstands. not even cheers. just: “I’M GONNA PROPOSE IF YOU WIN THIS!!!” 

and when you do win, he’s already climbing over fences like a madman. 

kaiser michael

he thinks you’re a goddess. 

he first saw you doing a victory burnout and now refuses to shut up about it. 

“do you know how fucking cool you are? i should be the one asking for your autograph.” 

ultra cocky boyfriend energy but he melts when you call him your “pit crew” after a long race. 

“pit crew? i’d change your tires with my teeth.” 

literally flexes you like a trophy. has you as his lockscreen, home screen, and contact photo. your name in his phone is “speed demon 🏎���❤️” 

gets super into the sport. buys your whole team dinner when you win. roasts rival drivers. 

“that guy behind you? yeah. he’s shaking. peed himself probably.” 

you let him sit in your car once and he wouldn’t get out. said “i live here now.” 

karasu tabito

okay so karasu is OBSESSED. 

he is a strategy nerd and immediately starts watching all your onboard footage, analyzing your corner exits like it's his life mission. 

“babe, you’re literally the queen of late braking. who taught you that? marry me.” 

wears a team jacket with your number embroidered on the sleeve. brags about you to everyone. 

“oh yeah my girl drives 350 km/h for a living. no biggie. she could probably drift better than you walk.” 

flirts with you while you're driving. always. 

“focus on the road,” you say. 

“oh i am, baby. especially when you’re in the driver's seat.” 

you once did donuts in a parking lot while he stood in the middle hyping you up with his phone camera. 

top commenter on all your socials: “she fast AND hot??? how is this legal???” 

barou shoei

he thought you were insane. like clinically insane. 

“why the hell would you drive that fast for that long. on purpose.” 

barou is a control freak and hates the idea of not being in charge, so the first time he sat shotgun while you were driving he nearly screamed. 

he clutched the seat. he held onto the door. he made you swear on your life not to drift again. 

“I SAID TURN LEFT, NOT LAUNCH INTO ORBIT–” 

but he deeply respects your work ethic and competitiveness. 

says stuff like “don’t let those bastards pass you” while tying your gloves for you pre-race. 

and when you win? he goes feral. 

doesn’t even celebrate, just pulls you into his arms and says “that’s my girl.” 

also the only one who glares at paparazzi until they get scared and run. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[melanch8ly]

idk if you’re looking for these kinds of asks, but what do you think Sevikas top kinks would be?

dom!sevika hdcns

❀ edging/teasing -

sevika loves keeping you right at the edge. it’s not about withholding, it’s about control. about watching you tremble, wide-eyed and wet, hips twitching as you beg for the orgasm she’s been denying you for an hour. she’ll press her thumb against your clit and circle just right until you arch with a gasp..and then she stops. leaves you there, panting, thighs clenching around nothing while she chuckles. she’ll do it again. and again. until your entire body is pleading for release and you’re sobbing her name.

“not yet, doll. i wanna see you cry first.”

❀ overstimulation -

when you finally do cum? that’s when sevika really starts. she doesn’t care how loud you scream or how your legs kick when it gets too much, she’s already got the wand buzzing against your clit while her strap still pounds you deep. she watches your pussy flutter and gush and jerk while she holds your hips in place. you squirm? she laughs. you try to crawl away? she yanks you right back onto the toy. she wants you wrecked. eyes rolling, body shaking, completely fucked out with slick dripping down your thighs and your brain turned to mush.

“what’s the matter? you wanted to cum so bad a second ago didn't you? fucking take it, then.”

❀ spit play -

she spits in your mouth like it’s nothing. it’s not even about the mess. it’s the look in her eyes when she does it. the way her hand fists your hair, tilts your head back, and her lips curl into a half-snarl before she spits slow and heavy onto your tongue. sometimes it drips from your lips down your tits, and she watches every inch of it slide. if you whimper? she makes you clean it up with your fingers and suck them dry.

“open up. yeah, just like that. fuckin’ filthy girl.”

❀ strap sucking -

she sits back in the chair, legs spread, strap thick and waiting, and snaps her fingers once. down. she wants to see how much you can take. how far you can stuff her cock into your throat while she growls in approval above you. sevika holds your head steady while she thrusts into your mouth slow, controlled, until your mascara runs and your spit stains her thighs. she makes you work for it, grinding your face down on the strap while her abs tense. if you gag? she hums low, strokes your cheek, and pushes deeper.

“this mouth was made for it, huh? take it like a good little cocksleeve.”

❀ voyeurism -

you think you’re alone, touching yourself in bed, hand between your thighs. you're not. sevika’s in the doorway, watching. sometimes she makes you touch yourself, legs spread, pussy drooling while she sits across the room, lighting a smoke, eyes sharp and hungry. if there’s a mirror? she’ll bend you in front of it, one hand around your throat, fucking you slow just so you watch your own tears fall. she likes recording it too—just audio, sometimes. just the sound of your begging moans and the slap of her hips.

“look at yourself. fuckin’ mess for me. you like bein’ watched, huh?”

❀ spanking -

does it to punish you. her hands are huge and rough, landing each hit with the perfect sting. sevika knows how to spank you until your thighs tremble and your skin glows red hot, until you’re clenching and crying out, soaked and aching. she’ll drag her fingers through your wetness right after, smirking at how needy you are for more. you squirm under her hand, begging, whimpering, still presenting your ass for the next hit. and she gives it. without mercy. every spank comes with a lesson. every whimper earns another.

“count. you fuck it up, we start over.”

❀ biting/choking -

sevika doesn’t leave soft kisses. her mouth is brutal—biting your shoulder hard enough to bruise, sinking her teeth into your inner thigh until you yelp. she wants her marks on you. wants everyone to know who fucked you last. she chokes you not to scare, but to dominate. big hand around your neck while she whispers filth in your ear, applying just enough pressure that your vision fuzzes and you go limp in her hold. you love it. the thrill of losing control in her grip.

“there we go. breathe for me, baby. fuckin’ perfect.”

❀ brat taming/dumbification -

you start out cocky. teasing her. riding slow. rolling your hips with a smirk like you’re the one in charge. sevika lets it happen. for a minute. then she grabs your hips and slams you down on her strap, again and again, until your voice breaks. she fucks you until your smirk’s gone and all you can do is babble nonsense. your nails dig into her arms, you try to slow her, and she just laughs.

“what happened to all that sass? look at you, getting all dumb on my cock.”

❀ gagging -

usually with her hand. her fingers are thick and calloused, two of them shoved in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue while your eyes flutter and your drool spills down your chin. she uses them to keep you quiet—when you're being too mouthy, or when you’re too loud moaning. sometimes she curls them like she’s testing your gag reflex just because she can. she’s relentless, watching the spit string from your lips, eyes dark with amusement.

“shut up, doll. let me hear you choke.”

❀ degradation / praise -

she makes you feel like nothing and everything all at once. calls you her little toy, her slut, her cockdrunk fuckdoll—and then cradles your face and whispers how good you’re doing. the degradation’s personal. tailored. she calls out how dumb your eyes get when you’re full. how messy your thighs are. how you’ll do anything just to please her. and when you cum hard? she leans in close, pressing kisses to your jaw.

“good girl. my favorite hole. look at you—cummin' just from bein’ used.”

my first request woohoo!!

[prosypepper]

HEAVEN IS A BEDROOM

summary: you loved him years ago, when the both of you were too nervous and immature to express your feelings. what happens when the man you love most shows up out of nowhere?

pairing: ex-lover!kento nanami x fem!reader

content warning: angst, smut, non-canon au, she/her pronouns used, unresolved feelings, alcohol use, dubcon bc of alcohol use, oral (m.receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, me giving random jobs to people, abrupt ending, resolving feelings with sex, crying, professions of love. wc: 3.1k.

pepper's note: it’s finally here! thank you all for 2k and thank you to everyone who’s taking part in this collab with me <3 you guys mean the world to me and i love you all so much! THANK YOUUUU! 18+ mdni!!

collab masterlist

this is stupid.

idiotic, even.

what does kento even say to you? was there a protocol for talking to the girl that—unintentionally—ripped his heart out five years ago? no, there wasn’t. nanami was well-versed in manuals of all kinds, and he hadn’t ever read one about this.

god, he’s drunk. tipsy, at best. and nervous.

just stopping by to see an old friend, right? right. he’s on business, just dropping by.  

his hand lifts in a fist to knock at the door.

wait—does he look okay? would you even recognize him with his haircut? or his build, because he was way scrawnier in college than he is now. and his new, more professional sense of style. how are you going to react?

shit.

but, with the courage that only hard liquor could grant him, kento nanami knocks at your door. quickly, three raps that ring through your apartment and almost make you jump out of your skin.

“uh—coming!” you yell, rushing around to throw on a pair of lounge pants. fuck fuck fuck, who the hell is here? you quickly check yourself out in the mirror next to your door—a habit a certain blond someone had passed onto you—figuring you look decent enough.

opening the door, your eyes focus on the figure in front of you—and your jaw drops.

you look just as beautiful as you did when he first met you, nine years ago. and the last time he saw you, and the time in between. kento had always known you were the most beautiful person he’d ever met—would ever meet.

you were once in a lifetime.

and kento—he grew into himself. just as handsome, but a few style changes, hair cut shorter and neatly parted. his shoulders were bigger, arms were bigger, he was past the age of growing in college but it seemed as if he towered over you.

kento nanami was once in a lifetime, too. you resented the fact you neglected that so long ago.

“ken…kento?” you breathe, voice evaporated from shock.

“hey.”

you stare at him, eyes squinting before opening wide along with your smile.

“oh, my god! kento!” you squeal, leaving the door to jump into nanami’s arms, “what the hell? what are you doing here?”

your arms wrap around kento’s neck, breathing in the scent of him—he’d upgraded his cologne over time, you notice. it mixes with the smell of alcohol in your nose, but it’s pleasant. it’s him.

nanami’s arms snake around you, a familiar hold encircling your waist. his nose digs into your neck, his hands rub over your back, fingers tangle in your hair. his girl, his woman. the only thing in his life that’s ever made sense—even when you didn’t make sense.

you’re finally back in his arms.

 “i…i missed you,” you admit into his shoulder, beginning to sway a little in his hold, “do—do you want to come in?” you pull away from him, looking at the beautiful eyes you’d fallen in love with. he nods.

wordlessly, kento lets you go and follows you inside, studying the way you set up your home. colorful, a pastel rainbow seeped into every crevice of your space. it was so…you. someplace he’d stay in forever if he could. you usher him to sit on your sofa, grabbing a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“do you want some wine? it’s—,” you hesitate, eyes flickering all over the room, “it’s your favorite.”

a smile pulls at the corner of kento’s mouth.

“no, i’ve already drank enough tonight,” he confesses, sinking into the soft plush of your couch with each passing second. he runs a hand through his hair, anxious. the back of his head meets the cushions, trying to force himself to settle down.

it’s not working.

and you are just as nervous. where you lived was no secret—everyone else you’d went to school with had come to visit you from time to time. kento was an entirely different story, however—there were many more layers to your relationship than what met the eye.

you were one another’s firsts—in any way you can think. first loves, first person to sleep with. but at the end of it, you were nervous early twenty-something year olds who couldn’t express their feelings. you felt it, kento felt it.

but once you graduated, you left with a few words, destined for more in the world than what you were given. kento knew that, as much as he hated it.

even after all that time, sitting in your home, those emotions all came flooding back to kento. he never should’ve let you go.

you never should’ve gone.

fate has an odd way of working, you think. the universe had still drawn you back together.

obviously, because the love of your life was sitting on your goddamn sofa.

you pour your wine glass a little too full, treading over to sit next to kento with the bottle in your other hand. not too far, probably too close.

“so. . how have you been?” you ask, mentally slapping yourself because you know how he’s been. satoru had kept you updated weekly. plus, that’s the most generic, worst question you can ask someone you emotionally ghosted years ago.

“surviving,” he jokes, a rare sense of humor that only came out around the tight-knit circle of friends he kept. he doesn’t look at you, speaking straight up at the ceiling, “i’m in town for business. you?”

“i’m good. . i’ve uh—i’ve been working, you know. i’m chief editor for a magazine now, so that’s great. really great,” you ramble, shutting yourself up by taking a big gulp of wine.

the news causes kento to finally lift his head to look at you, eyebrows raised but eyes lidded. he’d always known you were going to do big things. fabulous, important things, as you had said.

“wow,” he whispers, pinching the fabric of his slacks together with his thumb and forefinger. still a man of fewer words, you noticed.

“what are you doing? must be important since they sent you all the way over here,” you giggle.

“insurance. they had a conference here i had to attend.”

as the conversation of small talk goes on, there’s a tension between the two of you in the air. it’s unresolved, full of feelings you were too scared to tell him and emotions kento’s been holding onto. the session of ‘catching up’ reveals little information to you, he’s still the same man you’d always known, a little more matured and polished.

talking to him isn’t awkward, however. it’s natural, easy. just a little tense.

“hey, kento?” you break the silence that your words had dwindled down into, a wave of nausea punching you in the gut as you try to think of what to say. you’ve moved closer, set your wine glass down on the coffee table, and gained a little courage from the buzz of the alcohol.

“hm?”

“i’m really sorry—for leaving like that, after college. i don’t. . i didn’t think about anyone else. i just knew i always wanted to move away, and you know i got that job offer here and i just—i’m sorry. you didn’t deserve that, none of you guys deserved that.”

apologizing to nanami after all this time feels similar to a thousand-pound weight being lifted off your shoulders. sure, it was rushed and probably not the best—you could write an essay of your feelings if you really wanted to.

“it’s alright,” kento responds, flashing you a reassuring look—almost a smile, “you didn’t need to stay. you’re successful here, we all knew you’d be better off somewhere else.”

oh.

you aren’t sure if his response upsets you or not—it doesn’t, not really. people move on and grow apart, of course.

but kento didn’t move on. neither did you.

“i missed you, kento. it was hard to decide,” you begin to babble, “i’ve made friends and stuff here but i don’t think i ever got over you. i haven’t even been with anyone like that since i left.”

oops.

“oh shit—fuck—sorry, i didn’t mean—well, i’m going to shut up now i’m sorry.”

you fucked up. who the hell is stupid enough to just admit that to someone who’s only been in your house for an hour? kento just looks at you astonished, which is making it worse, you feel the air leaving your lungs—

“i haven’t either.”

it’s his turn to talk now. he hesitates briefly, sobering up quickly and breathing in before deciding to let it all go.

“i thought i was going to marry you, but i never gained the confidence to make you mine, and i apologize for that. i would’ve come with you. being here with you now, i feel no different.”

maybe he fucked up, too.

“kento,” you whisper, fidgeting with your thumbs. tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them back, forcing yourself to look at nanami.

here goes nothing.

before either of you can say another word, you lean into nanami, pressing a long kiss onto his lips. it’s heavy, the tension is finally allowed to snap, emotions bottled up finally allowed to bleed into one another.

kento’s taken aback, only for a moment, soon easing into the kiss as if it’s the last breath he’ll be allowed to take. his hands—once softer, now wisened and rough—cup your jaw, one sliding to the back of your head to pull you in closer. you can taste the faded whiskey on his breath, reminding you that he’s at least a little drunk.

“wait—wait, you’re drunk,” you say, pulling back, “i don’t want you to regret anything i—i’m sorry.”

kento blinks, still entranced by your touch. he takes a moment to register what you’re saying—he’s sobered up after his confessions, and it’s you. he’d never regret a thing as long as it was you.

“i’m fine, sweetheart,” he assures you, the nickname from college rolling off his tongue naturally. “we don’t have to do anything, however, trust me when i say this,” he runs his thumb over your cheek, feeling the burning skin beneath the finger.

“the only thing i’ll ever regret is letting you go. now, if you’ll allow me to continue.”

your eyelashes flutter at him, big, glassy, love-struck eyes staring him in the face. nanami has never been more serious in his life.

“yes, please.”

kento leans back into you, initiating a deeper kiss. your lips lock with his like second nature, his saliva beginning to coat your lips. he grabs your waist, firm, pulling you to straddle his lap. his hands run over your hips, up your spine, sending shivers down your back.

you’ve missed his touch for so long.

“ken—ken, bedroom,” you plead when you’re able to come up for air, gasping less than an inch from his face.

wordlessly, nanami picks you up bridal style, standing up from your couch. you yelp, suddenly weightless, before pointing the blond man in the direction of your room.

it’s cute inside, signs of your life strewn all over the place. paintings and photos line the wall—kento doesn’t miss the few you have up of the two of you from college. he lays you down on your unmade bed, standing in between your legs at the edge. kento watches you for a second, sees the way you’re watching him, drinking in every last detail like you’ll forget him tomorrow.

tugging at his belt loop, you attempt to coax him down onto you, wrapping your legs around his hips at the same time. yet he’s not budging, instead he brings his fingers to begin unbuttoning his shirt, slowly revealing the tone and muscle he’d built up over time. when he finally allows the fabric to fall to the floor—you’re awestruck.

“jesus,” you groan, running a hand over his abdomen, “jesus christ.”

he’s definitely changed. and he saved all this for you?

“hm?” kento hums, running his hands over your thighs smoothly. he gazes at you lovingly, while you inspect every part of him—from his arms to the line of hair that leads down the pudgy part of his tummy.

with all your power, you pull kento down next to you, quickly switching positions so you’re on top of him. your fingers make quick work of his belt, fidgeting with the buckle until it’s undone. the button on his slacks is next, then the zipper—until everything but his boxers are haphazardly pulled down around his thighs.

kento is driving you crazy. you’re acting downright feral over him, and he sees.

“darling, you don’t have to—oh,” he starts, but is quickly cut off as you pull the waistband of his boxers down, just enough to allow his length to spring free. it’s hard, already leaking—and you waste no time licking a long stripe up the shaft.

nanami moans at that, a low groan from the back of his throat becomes all you can hear. he props himself up on his elbows to look at you, almost shying away when you look him directly in the eyes. another sound akin to a whimper falls from his lips when you lower your mouth on him, suckling the tip enough to make his leg jump.  

kindly, kento reaches down to collect your hair behind your head—something you’d requested the first time you sucked him off—and you smile at him quickly before taking his length all the way to the back of your throat. his cock prods at your uvula, and you will yourself to not gag, letting your tongue slip out your mouth to swipe over the rest of his shaft. you’re messy—drool covering the entirety of his length without you even trying.

kento’s so sensitive he thinks he might cum just from that—and it’s even worse when you hollow out your cheeks and begin to bob your head up and down, a few wet noises escaping from your lips. his hand begins to guide your head, slow you down, using every last ounce of self-control to keep himself from filling up your throat.

but it’s still too much.

he tugs a little harder at your hair, pulling you off his cock, a string of saliva still connecting you and him.

“was that okay? was—was it bad?” you ask, expression changing from seductive to worrisome.

“no, you’re perfect, just—,” he replies, pursing his lips for a moment, “come here.”

he urges you to crawl up, your body settling into the mattress next to him. one arm cradles around your back, holding you against him, the other bringing a hand to cup your face and pull you in. he initiates the kiss now, catching your lips against his and keeping you there. you oblige, closing your eyes and relaxing into it, allowing kento’s hand to trail from your face down, and down to the band of your bottoms.

his hand slips under, immediately bringing his fingers to the wet heat of your cunt. you’re soaked, and kento lets out a small groan at the realization it’s all for him, because of him. his digits are immediately circling your throbbing clit, you whine into his mouth at the feeling of being so sensitive, so pent up because you’ve been waiting on him.

and he’s finally here.

your eyes squeeze together, and you bury your head into kento’s shoulder, whimpering and whining into the warm skin. he makes you feel safe, makes you think only about him—you can’t get that feeling with anyone else.

“i know,” he whispers, kissing your hair as he speeds his fingers up. soft flesh of your thighs squeeze around his hand, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even let up—nanami remembers exactly what makes you tick, knows how to make you lose yourself in him.

testing the waters, kento slips his fingers down into you, curling his the digits slightly to stretch you open. it’s too good, leaving you to clutch at the sheets and mutter out some nonsense to nanami.

“ken—want you inside, please,” you murmur, glassy eyes looking up at him in a plead.

of course, nanami can’t deny you.

he allows you out of his grasp to shed himself of the rest of his clothes. you quickly follow suit, throwing every last article of clothing across the floor and laying back on your pillows. butterflies fly around your tummy in anticipation, even more so when kento crawls on top of you with a smile.

“hi,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to kiss you.

kento cradles your head with one hand, his other slides between the two of you to guide his cock into your heat, sliding the tip in with ease. you gasp into his mouth, arms tightening up around him, feeling the stretch of each inch entering you. you’d almost forgotten how big he is, how he fills you up perfectly.

as he begins to move, you feel him hitting the deepest parts of you, almost impaling your cervix. but he’s not rough—anything but, really. he’s slow, taking his time to savor the feeling of you squeezing him, each flutter of your insides sending shockwaves of pleasure through him. it’s overwhelming, for both of you—emotions of love and lust and everything that had been bottled up for so long are finally coming to the surface in the best way you could think of.

nanami’s glad you keep his mouth so close to yours, he’s almost embarrassed of the sinful, desperate noises that fall out of his lips—and you drink all of them up with ease. you take every part of him—the good and the ugly—and absorb it into you, you adore every part of him as he is.

every moment, he���s reminded why his love for you never died.

“ken,” you moan, pulling your head away from his to look him in the eyes, “i love you—i’m so sorry. i love you so much.” your apologies are accompanied by a few tears welling up in your tear ducts, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“i love you, too, it’s okay. i forgive you, sweetheart.”

those words are all you’ve wanted to hear, all you’ve needed to hear, sitting atop the years of frustration and anger with yourself for leaving. the tears begin to run down your cheeks, hot, devastating, but happy.

happy that kento’s here, and even if everything isn’t resolved between the two of you—this is a start.

and as kento looks down at you, the sweet girl he’d loved for so long, below him, telling him how much she loves him, he thinks that this is heaven.

you are heaven.

with you in your bedroom, professing your love to him, your bodies together—

this is the closest kento nanami would ever get to heaven.

special thanks to: @twilightsumu @nanamisbbygirl @dearsnow @spearofheaven @prisvvner @aquasoftware and @naammiii for all working with me in this collab <3 i adore you all

[natsrealgf]

Weird ask; but can you make evil!Nat x reader au? I'm kinda curious how a Nat with a Shauna level evilness would be like (ofc keeping her core aspects if it's not too much to ask lol)

tysm even if ya don't do it lol <3

ᯓ★ | Dating evil antler queen Nat headcanons

Natalie Scatorccio x fem!reader

(Warnings: toxic relationship, possessive behaviour, smut)

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who started acting different after Jackie and Javi died. More protective if you will, consumed by fear of losing you.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who doesn’t allow you to go outside because it’s cold and you could get sick or hurt.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who does your chores for you not wanting you to waste your energy on such things. Earning her and you looks from the other girls.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who when crowned queen watched as you bent to your knees in front of her and kissed her hand.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who gives you house arrest over nothing so you stay inside your shared hut all day long.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who yells and lashes out at you in front of the others just to later comfort you and have you crying into her chest.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who blatantly favours you over the others, giving you no chores or making them finish your chores for you, so they’ll get jealous and pull away from you.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who makes you sit at her feet during meetings.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who doesn’t allow you to play capture the bone because you could get hurt.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who during feasts, serves you first and gives you the biggest piece of meat, earning you disgusted looks from your teammates.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who has you decide the punishments for the other girls. Or how to handle certain situations. So, if it goes wrong the blame falls on you. And when it does she can protect you from the others. After all, you don’t need anyone but her.

➤ nsfw

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who takes her frustration out on you, who will call you to her hut and fuck you as a stress relief.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who leaves marks on your neck and on your chest so she can parade you around like a trophy in the morning.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who will tease you for hours and overstimulate you just to deny your orgasm over and over again until she feels satisfied enough to give in to you.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who makes you hump her boot so she can see you breathless and with tears running down your face.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who will take you hunting with her so she can have you laying down on the dirt while she fucks you with the riffle.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who won’t let you touch her while she’s 3 fingers deep and crying while she ruins her own orgasm because she believes she doesn’t deserve it.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who will lay down next to you and spoon you so she can hump you in your sleep.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who’s only way to ask for forgiveness or care is to initiate intimacy.

·˚ ༘ evil!Nat who never lays a hand on you but asks you to scratch her, slap her, and tug at her roots when she’s feeling particularly antsy.

(a/n: tbh this is the most “evil” I could go, also I did antler queen era because it would be easier for this kind of dynamic to happen in a way because of the power imbalance, don’t know if this is what you had in mind tho)

[returnofeternity]

I know you usually write more on the smutty side but could you do shauna x reader who just wants to make her laugh. Not like forcing it or making it happen at her expense. Shauna is so fucking serious out there. She only laughs when someone is getting fucked up. R comes along and makes her laugh softly in their hut. Gets this butcher giggling.

i got a shit ton of shauna tiktoks last night and im in a soft mood >.< thinking about defending her along with lottie when everyone finds out what she's been doing with jackie's body. like god she was so devastated when tai talked about getting rid of her body :( thinking about everyone slowly walking away to 'prepare,' but you wanna say something to her so bad, so you hover around her while she crosses her arms and pouts. just saying something along the lines of you understanding her and that it's not her fault, but it means a lot to shauna.

you just wanna make your girl smile and laugh for real 😔 you wish she'd relax and stop being so serious, but you get why she's like this. you just wish she'd let you in more. but those times where it's just you and her, and she's the shauna you remember back at home? you cherish them so much. hell, you even cherish those smiles you get from her when she's fucking around with mari. but you love her genuine smiles the most.

making some joke about a permanent frown being formed on her lips while she's so focused on journaling out on ur walks. she gives you a tiny smile and puts away the pen and journal, scoots closer to you and pulls you onto her lap so she can spend actual time with you.

ripping a few pieces of paper out of old notebooks and trying to get her to draw with you, maybe making it some game of who can draw the prompt better. she's been so uptight and all frowny recently that you decide she needs some TLC !! making her laugh with your horrible drawings :(( just being so happy and feeling so warm inside when she genuinely has a giggle fit over ur drawing of a horse because it does not look like a horse. ur just staring at her scrunched up face with hearts in your eyes, ur face is burning from how much you love this sight.

giving her a massage because it's what she deserves!! she's so fucking tense and you just wanna shower her in appreciation today, so you start rubbing her shoulders before bed. making some joke about her injecting some wilderness steroids because her muscles are so hard and she lets out a sleepy snort :(

thinking about salvaging a camera out there, maybe it's a polaroid, and snapping a picture of her while she's laughing and always keeping it in ur pocket 😔

[overdramaticbaddie]

SOME DELTARUNE SPOILERS IDK JUST KERDLY THINGS

ooooohhhhhh so THATS how you do that.

Anyway, I've recently been thinking about Berdly, and how Kris seems to be the only person to actually like him, like, at all.

If you think about it, everyone Berdly interacts with does so out of necessity, or just being too polite to shut him down completely.

Alphys throws out the apples he gives her when hes trying to be a "teacher's pet", Susie and Ralsei pretty much disregard him, Queen TOTALLY disregards him, and even Noelle, the person he would consider his BEST FRIEND seems to just be humoring him out of pity, and if she were less of a pushover, she would ditch him entirely. Pretty much all others who know him just act like he doesn't exist.

And this isn't completely unjustified, because Berdly is a fucking insufferable asshole.

He loves to brag all the time, takes credit for other people's work, and insults others constantly to make himself feel better.

But these behaviors are shown to be out of a feeling of loneliness, that he has to act out in order to be perceived, to not be forgotten. This, ironically, brings about the exact opposite effect, and just pushes others further away from him.

He has shown time and time again that he fears being alone, he desires companionship, he copes with the resentment of others by believing they must simply be jealous of his intelligence or in love with him.

Nobody likes him, nobody wants to be his friend, he always has to be the one to initiate because everyone will just avoid him.

Except Kris.

In canon, they have been shown to often be the one to seek him out, whether it's to prank call him or play games.

Kris seems to have a bit of a soft spot for him, and are willing to go out of their way to help him when he needs it (like when he accidently uninstalled minecrap and kris walked him through fixing it and NOELLE FUCKING SAID IT WAS CUTE LIKE GIRL YOU KNOW WHO THE BIG PRANK CALLER IS IN THIS TOWN YOU THINK KRIS WAS CUTE TO HIM)

Well, Kris seems to be a kind person in general, this tends to only present itself in serious situations, doing something like that seems a biiiit out of character for them.

Also the bit with him in the hospital fucking FLOORED me, like oh my god Kris you asked Susie to stay behind, turned on the radiator, changed his FUCKING WATER BOTTLE, and then noticed that "it might be your imagination, but he seems calmer" like bestie i didn't know you were NURTURING like i get dragging him across hometown to get him to the hospital and then slumping over to Noelle's house to reassure and warn her, but to FUCKING try to NURSE BERDLY BACK TO HEALTH like do you know????? do you FUCKING know???? how many hurt/comfort fics i have read??????? do you know??????????? WTFFFFFFFFFFFFF

And what's also really cute is how in the normal route the two options on the Berdly phone call in chapter 4 BOTH lead to Berdly expecting Kris to wanna be his date at the festival???? this plus the fact Susie and Noelle are canonically gonna be going together as a DATE??????

But, yeah, anyway, I think Kris genuinely cares about Berdly, possibly as more than a friend?????

I think they would be mostly frustrated at the SOUL for fucking with whatever plans Kris has at the festival for dark fountains and shit, and those probably wouldn't involve Berdly.

(BUT ISTG BERDLY IS GONNA BE SOOOOO FUCKING IMPORTANT NEXT CHAPTER TRUST)

[honeyshiddendesire]

Pet Name Headcanon List

Buggy x female reader- diva

Warnings: Brief Pussy eating, hair pulling, gagging, pussy slapping, face slapping, dirty talk, teasing/degradation, spitting, Hard Dom! Buggy, pain kink, deep throating, facial, cumshot

"Wanna act like a damn diva all day then pretend you don't know what you did wrong?" Buggy snaps as nips at your clit, the sensation making you whine loudly, wrists pulling at the ropes he has you tied in. "Buggy baby I'm sorry, you know I just get a little bratty from time to time I didn't mean any harm- ah fuck!- I'm sorry!" Your words turn into a cry as Buggy likes your dripping slit, his large nose pressing into your clit without even trying.

It took a long time for the clown to get used to eating you out but with how loudly you praise him he figured he was doing a good job. "I have to be honest though, my diva does have a tasty little pussy. I could kiss her all day but~ kissing is for when she's good. I think you deserve a nice slap." Buggy finishes his sentence with a harsh slap at your cunt, your sticky juices making a lewd wet sound as you whimper louder. "FUCK! Buggy baby please!" You cry out brokenly and he just rolls his eyes. "Don't act like you don't like it, my little diva is dripping. You should hear how wet she is." Buggy grins as he gives another slap at your pussy, his gloves oozing with your sweet juices.

"Dammit Buggy stop being an asshole!" You lash out in frustration, your pussy tingling from the mix of the pleasure and pain just wishing he would fuck you hard and save you the torture. Buggy slowly crawls up your body with a dark look in his eyes and you swallow the lump in your throat nervously.

"Excuse me Miss Diva, could you repeat that?" He growls out as he yanks your head back by your hair, sticky gloved fingers tugging hard. "I- I didn't say nothin'." You whine and watch as Buggy's hand swings down like a pendulum.

SLAP!

His gloved hand smacks you hard on the cheek making you gasp at the force, your head barely moving with how hard he's holding onto your hair. "I told you- repeat that." He commands and you look at him with watery eyes, "I-I said... stop being an asshole." Buggy tenderly rubs the cheek that he just hit, a grin appearing on his face before he goes to undo his pants. His leaking cock slapping you on your lips, "Sorry diva not today. I'll stop being an asshole after you suck my cock for all it's worth."

You give a nod up to the man who knew how to leave your pussy drooling like crazy. He backed away a little in order to lean down and spit inside your awaiting mouth, a hum leaving him at your obedience. "My diva's finally listening. Good...very good. Open up babes." He grins as he grabs your hair again in his hand, as the other stroked his cock. You barely opened your mouth before he's slamming his forward making you gag.

"Stupid clown whore, look at you choking on my cock like a good girl. See what happens when you act like a diva. Now you won't even get my cock in that pretty pussy of yours since you wanna misbehave. Maybe you're act right in the morning." Buggy can talk your ear off when he really tries but you wouldn't want it any other way. It makes your insides spin and your thighs press together in lustful desire. "MMM!" You moan as he rocks his hips harder, heavy balls slapping into your chin over and over with every sway. Once hand pulling your hair as the other slapped your cheek again, no where to run as he held you in place tightly.

Moving his hand from your hair he places it on the bed frame holding it tight as he pushes further down, forcing you into the mattress, cock fucking deeper into your throat. "Fuck that's it~ there we go babes. Such a nice little throat. Hah-nngh- there we fucking go." Buggy is fucking your head into the mattress like it were your pussy and in a way you're imagining it was because fuck he was so hot right now. You love when he gets like this, putting your bratty self in it's place.

In a flash he pulled away stroking his cock close to your face, "Come on diva- say ahhh!" He taunts in a breathy voice and you listen, seeing your drooly face makes him grunt before spraying ropes of hot cum over your face. You're breathing heavy right along with him, your hair a mess, face red from his slaps and lips swollen from his cock, now add in the cum he just shot all over you- you were wrecked.

When Buggy was all done he leaned down with a grin, "How about we get ya cleaned up hmm diva? Sounds good?" You give a weak nod and he just winks. "See I knew you could shut that pretty mouth of yours up."

[hawkeyes-boy]

a charity football match is on tv and now I can't stop thinking abt ptmc charity football match

im thinking either day shift vs night shift (competitive but light-hearted) OR medical vs surgical (VIOLENT BRUTAL BATTLE TO THE DEATH)

I have so many thoughts abt day shift vs night shift

robby and jack as coaches, robby plays the old man card and blames his bad back. jack does a stint in goal using his crutch(es) but then retires to manager opposite robby making terrible FOOTball jokes the whole time. robby doesnt start out competitive but you KNOW jack brings it out in him by the end

then the line up:

frank as the day shift striker cos of course he his, just look at the hair. hes fast and skillful but he dives pathetically and jack yells at him lmao

mel is a winger, shes also pretty fast but shes not very technical. she does have a knack for reading the game (or maybe just frank...) and sets him up some great shots

dennis is on the other wing and he's surprisingly good, but he panics and boots it too much and also goes down like a wet paper towel - not diving he's just,,, flimsy

samira in centre mid, shes a bit slow on the ball, takes too many touches, but when she can hold onto it she gets some great balls through to mel/frank

dana as the centre back running that defensive line like a pro, she doesn't need to shout but you best believe that line is so straight they're calling offside every ten minutes (it makes a vein start to show in jack's neck)

collins as right back, not very fast but solid and persistant making her very difficult to get around. the only time robby actually shouts from the sideline is when there's a particularly strong challenge on collins

mckay as left back (she strikes me as a lefty idk why Imao) similar to collins but plays DIRTYYYY, you know she does, shes pulling some filthy slide tackles. jack doesnt even have a go cos he respects it. shit talks like a MOTHERFUCKER too. sorry just heart eyes thinking abt her gimme a minute

santos in goal 1000%. i played women's football for a long time and let me tell you she fits the blueprint to the fucking millimetre. she's played since she was a kid and she runs that team like the fucking navy, the MOST invested person on the pitch. she's yelling at everyone keeping them all in line and giving genuinely sound tactical advice - unfortunately it's rarely followed because she gets too irate. she nearly makes dennis cry and robby makes her go sit on the bench to calm down for a minute lmao

javadi's the water girl and she takes her job very seriously, she's also in charge of the cold spray and tape which in amateur football is like a performance enhancing drug comparable to dope, and again she takes this responsibility very seriously

OK AND THEN NIGHT SHIFT

I'm giving them surgical too for the numbers and also because I want to

the main reason I want to is garcia. . . she's up front and it's mostly because she's a genuinely decent striker. . .but its also definitely not not because jack noticed santos seems a bit more distractable when garcia's in her eyeline. . .

walsh also has goalkeeper vibes to me, calling the shots from the back

shen. . . . I cannot see as a footballer. jack puts him on as a winger and he's competent, but he refuses to run too far after someone and just does a 🤷‍♂️ when jack and walsh threaten to give him a reason to run

ellis is centre mid and she's holding the team together, she's not the fastest but she's not slow and she's skilled, experienced, solid and tactical too. she's their secret weapon and jack doesn't even pretend to actually be managing anything, he just repeats what she says from the lines but louder

[murasakiyams]

You never do, babe

cw: suguru being a toxic fuck, sex, but it’s not detailed really.

a/n: you guys ever think back of a toxic relationship the moments before it ended? that’s basically it.

You couldn't blame Suguru; it wasn't hard to make you cry. And maybe that's why he did what he did. Always pushing you to the edge, leaving you vulnerable, broke, and a snotty mess when he left your apartment. He hated leaving you like this, but this sick, twisted part of him loved it. He knew you'd always come back, begging, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Endless nights of you crying to your friends, saying different things about how he'd change, oh, how you'd blocked him. Yet the fact that you couldn't stand alone ruled out everything you said the previous night before.

Because here he is, a smug grin on his face, as he was on top of you, you're vulnerable like this, lying down, tears running down your face as he touches you, and when he touches you, he does it like it's the last time. Like you're just broken and he's gluing the pieces. But you're complety exposed, you're naked just like he is, feeling every hard thrust he's giving you, it's brutal, he's fucking you like he hates you, and you think for a second, maybe he does. Perhaps you're just a placeholder till he finds someone else to mess with. Your mind can't decide whether or not to zone out, cry harder as you stare into the ceiling, knowing he'll just leave after this. But he won't let you, he's grabbing your face, kissing you, telling you that if you look away, he won't let you finish. And you know you should stop, knowing the more you two continue, the more pieces your friends will have to pick up. And that's right, your friends. How disappointing it will be for them to see the fact that you went back to him, the fact that you know he's no good for you, he's just a man. But yet, you won't stop, because he'll drag you right back in.

When he finishes, it's not soft, the headboard hits the wall, his hips snap into you, a brutal force, and yet he looks away, he looks away as you finish, he doesn't see the way your face scrunches up, the way your eyes widen before squeezing shut. You really can't help but wonder if he's picturing somebody else, some other girl in his mind as he empties into you, and it hurts. You feel each part of your heart breaking, falling into that pit of your stomach, and never have you ever felt so alone.

Because maybe you never really did miss him, maybe it was the fact that you were used to being alone, but only with him in bed. You only missed him because he made your bed warm. After all, there was another body in your bed. You wanted him so bad while you were alone, because he made you feel this way.

He pulls out, a soft grunt from him, a whine from you.

A hand, his, comes to cup your face, wiping your tears, a smile on his face, and his sweet voice that follows, "I love seeing you like this."

And usually its sweet, it's sweet like those books you read, when the male interest loves the sweet main character, loving the fact he fucked her so much she came to tears.

But it's not sweet, he only loves you like this because he knows that when you need comfort, you'll call him, text him. He knows that he's completely broken you down, making you feel like you only need him and him only.

And who were you to push him away when those sweet loving words come flowing out of his mouth, that you don't even know if he means it, "I love you, you know that, right?"

But does he truly?

[music4soul]

John and his father used to be thick as thieves before his parents divorced.

They’d play ball out in the front yard, stole freshly baked cookies from the tray(got popped for it), and loved reading old books. His father used to give him the ones he finished reading, and John would give him the ones he couldn’t understand so that he could help him to.

The days leading up to the divorce was messy; yelling almost every night, no dinner sometimes due to his mother being exhausted, his father leaving early afternoon and coming back shit-face drunk late mornings.

And the divorce itself was hell.

John’s father tried getting custody of him, fought tooth and nail for his son. Even tried alienating him from his mother too; would make him sit on the porch while he smoked a cigar and asked him about what kind of bed he’d want at his house and their daily fishing trips, and for a moment John considered it. Considered going to live with his father, waking up and being able to do whatever he’d like without any repercussions because what kid wouldn’t want that?

Until his mother fell ill and John was too anxious to leave her side for a single second. What if she stumbled one day and hit her head? If she cried because her migraines felt like a parasite was gnawing away at the tissue in her brain? If she didn’t eat or drink and just wilted away slowly while John was out doing fuck knows what?

When he made his decision, his father just went blank faced. Didn’t scream or cry or beg, just stood there and look at him, even when the boy tried to explain that he’d visit often. After that, his father just walked off their porch and never came back, no matter how many times John called and tried to plan a date for them to hang or just to check up on him.

And with time, their connection drifted apart.

John grew up into his teen years with a now healthy and happier mother who now takes up gardening and still bakes cookies that John still steals off the tray and gets popped for, and they like to watch shitty rom-coms for the hell of it every Friday just cause.

However, it’s not the same. Not the same as when his father was here doing it all with them, happy and careless. John’s mother mentions something about John talking to his father more, checking up on him here and there just to see how he’s getting along. Despite all he put her through, she still wants him to have a relationship with his father.

What a saint.

And John tries every once in a while. Calls him, even if their conversations are brief. Hugs him whenever they unexpectedly meet in a random place. Speaks when he comes over to the house to talk to his mother about getting back together after his many failed relationships(one of which the girl threatened to kill herself). But no matter how hard John tries, he still can’t help but feel awkward around his father now. Their connection had been long gone, broken the day he made the decision to stay with his mother instead of going with his father to ‘hold him down’.

He hates asking him for things too, makes him feel more and more like a burden within the passing years because each time he does he always gets a lecture on how ‘a phone works two ways’, and how John only speaks to him when he needs something, which is why he became so independent from a young age. Learned how to drive on his own, how to fix a tire, how to shave, how to make his own bank account, how to save. He did all that without asking, because asking means a lecture, and a lecture is obviously gonna be stemmed from another person’s displeasures about something you did, right?

Anyhow, both his parents are dead now, both buried in separate cemeteries next to different people they’ve known for a lifetime or have known for a week. And John can’t help but feel a lingering guilt as he stands at his father’s grace because— what was his last thought of his only son? Was it good? Was it bad? Was it damning? He also feels a whirlpool of lingering guilt when he doesn’t bother visiting his father’s grave unless he’s shit-face drunk and in need of comfort.

[sapphicideas]

confession —

(also is 🦢 taken? if so i’ll take whatever’s left, i’m not picky lol)

so there’s this girl. we’ve been talking (not in a flirty way or anything, mostly just as friends) and i know she’s chatting with other girls too (no shame, she’s cool as hell so fair enough, besides it’s not like we’re talking talking). and it’s not like i’ve been making moves either, so i can’t really act all hurt or confused that it’s not romantic. i haven’t exactly given her a reason to see me that way.

the thing is, and i genuinely don’t know when this happened, i cannot stop thinking about her. and yeah, i feel kind of pathetic for catching feelings just because someone was nice to me. (i’m an attention whore i fear …)

but she’s just. so cool? and thoughtful? and smart?? every time she texts me i get this ridiculous little rush of serotonin like i’m fucking 13 with a crush again. and don’t even get me started on when she sends voice messages. her voice is so pretty, and she has this sweet little accent, and i replay them like an embarrassing number of times because they make me smile like an idiot (i have to be vague here, i’m so paranoid about her seeing this).

now i thought i was fine and that i’d get over it but the other day i was touching myself (as one does) and accidentally started moaning her name……..and it’s not like i was looking at pictures of her or anything (i don’t think i could do that even if i wanted to, i’d feel way too dirty and embarrassed, and it would feel like breaking her trust yk?), it just slipped out, again and again…and i ended up cumming while moaning her name and riding my dildo while imagining her strap in me…and now every time i touch myself my brain starts thinking of her and it makes me cum the absolute hardest these days? i usually use my vibrator all the time and i was under the impression that i couldn’t have an orgasm without it (which i was lowkey worried about. i know i shouldn’t be, it’s about my pleasure after all and there’s no shame in only cumming with toys. but i digress.), but thinking of this girl made me cum so hard while i was just rubbing my clit with my fingers??

anyway. yeah that’s my confession…

~🦢

that's so fucking hot oh my goshhh. you should make a move, if you can cum just thinking about her imagine what she could do to you ;)

taken! i'll give you this one though 🦢🦢

[darlenicy]

Bloom rant no XYZ

ARGHHHHHH. For the whole first half of the season (4) it was Musa who sang in the Frutti Music Bar. The Winx even said that Musa has an angelic magical voice. She got even asked by Jason to become a (solo) Star. And now? Musa asks her friends if they wanted to form a band. What's the first thing Bloom says? "yUo hAvE tO gIvE mE sIngInG leSsoNs thEn" NO, SHE DOES NOT HAVE TO. You could simply learn an instrument and let Musa, the fairy of fucking music, the girl with the angelic voice, fucking SING like she did for the past episodes. This makes me so fucking angry 😡💢. Whoever says Bloom's main character syndrome was a thing of the later seasons, nope. It certainly wasn't. She simply suppressed Musa. I hate that bitch.

I'll post this in the anti bloom tag. So that her fans don't see it (how can you even be a fan of bloom?). So if it shows in the main tag. Sorry this is not meant to be seen by you. Do me the favour and don't defend her in this post. I'd delete it anyway.