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yanderedrabbles · 17 hours ago

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Foreign Yandere x Air Hostess Reader

He's beyond shady. Got connections and friends in all the lowest places. But you're just a little too slow to realise it.

Foreign Yandere who sees you for the first time on his first flight out of the country. He’s a sketchy guy, got a pack of fake passports in a hidden compartment in his bag, but you smile at him like you don’t see the tattoos, the scarred knuckles, the too quick hands.

Oh, you’re pretty. All the cabin crew are, but you’re something new. Exotic almost. Got him wondering exactly how different you are in bed too, got him wondering if you’d put up a fuss if he cornered you in the bathroom. Hell, you might like it. Folk always said foreign girls were down for so much more.

It’s a long-haul flight and your supervisor is bitchy about damn near everything you do. Passengers aren’t much better after twelve hours with their legs cramped up and only shitty plane chow to eat. He can see it wearing on you, can see the way your smile gets tighter after every too sharp complaint. Makes him want to beat their faces into a pulp.

His last straw comes at hour sixteen, when you’re clearly exhausted and one passenger just won’t let up. Practically screaming at you about not getting his specially ordered meal. You’re dealing with it as best you can, but everyone has a limit. He can see the tears starting to brim behind your waterline, can see you struggling to fight them back.

He stands so fast that his seat mate actually flinches. Comes to stand behind you and glares at the troublemaker. The man doesn’t let up, just switches his anger to him.

“You got a problem, huh?”

Foreign Yandere who doesn’t have a lot of English, but he knows a threat when he hears one. He leans down, shoots the man a smile filled with all the menace of a streetfighter.

“What did you say to me?” he asks, in his own language. It isn’t the standard dialect. It’s the regional kind, the type that’s as rough ‘round the edges as its speakers.

The man quails.

“Sorry,” he mutters. But that’s not good enough.

Foreign Yandere who jerks his head at you, his message clear even across the language barrier.

Apologise to her.

The guy does. Red in the face, resentful about it, spitting his sorry through his teeth like an insult.

You look up at him, the foreigner with the hard eyes, and thank him. In his own language.

Your accent is thick, the pronunciation too rounded on the vowels. But he’ll be damned if it ain’t just fucking adorable.

“Anytime,” he tells you.

It’s not long after he’s back in his seat that you bring him a complimentary cup of coffee and a muffin. The good stuff too, not the swill that usually gets served in economy. He grabs your wrist before you can leave, grip just a little too tight without meaning to be.

“Can I see you again?”

Your grasp of the language isn’t the best, and it takes you a minute to puzzle out what he's asked. When you finally get it, you smile at him and shake your head. Rueful.

“Against company policy to meet the passengers after the flight ends.”

He lets it go. Sighs and says he understands, wouldn’t want to get you in trouble. A surprisingly polite answer from a man who looks like he never hears the word no without following it with a punch to the teeth.

But he doesn’t let it go. Not really. After the plane is deboarded, he skips lines and almost skips customs to keep his eye on you. When you get into a shuttle bus with the rest of your coworkers, he takes careful note of the hotel name scrawled on the side.

His business goes well - if you can call smuggling business that is. The boys he’s dealing with have their own plane to get him home. The kind of small jet that never lands at any airport marked on a map. He slips them all a little something extra under the table and asks if he can bring a guest.

“Will they be conscious?”

He grins. “Not if I can help it.”

Getting you is the tricky part. He borrows a suit and cleans himself up. Shows up at the hotel desk in the middle of the night and tells them he’s here to pick you up for an unscheduled early flight. He knows your name, your company, even your damn rank in the crew. Everything he says checks out. And if the receptionist that calls you thinks he looks a little rough to be a driver, she doesn’t mention it.

You show up with your uniform a tiny bit askew and a sock sticking out of your suitcase. You must have scrambled out of bed without even bothering to double check with your supervisor. Good. The less people that know the better.

He mostly keeps his back to you. Doesn’t want you to recognise him too soon. He shouldn’t have worried. You’re too jetlagged and blurry eyed to even recognise your own mother.

It’s only when you’re in his car and speeding down the wrong highway that you start to get suspicious. Start to come awake fully.

“Which company did you say you work for again?”

He doesn’t reply. You’re going to have to put more effort into learning and speaking his language. No point encouraging you by answering.

“Excuse me?”

You lean forward to get his attention and when he hears your little gasp, he knows the game is up. That you recognise him. Honestly, he’s a little offended that it took you this long. He could keep track of you through a sea of faces back at the airport after all.

“Listen, I don’t know why you’re here. But please stop the car.”

See? You’re speaking his language a bit better already.

“No chance sweetheart. You’re coming home with me.”

He can almost admire your guts when you go straight for the door, despite the speedometer showing over 200. Locked of course. He’s not an idiot.

When he finally arrives at the hangar, it takes him and two other thugs to finally hold you still.

“Fucking feisty thing,” one of them snarls when you land a good kick to his knee.

When he finally manages to prick the injection into your neck, you’re crying so hard that your mascara is running.

“You put up a good fight baby,” he comforts you as you go limp in his arms. “But I just want this more than you.”

His buddies smirk when they look at your body sprawled out on the seat.

“Nice catch. I’m mad I didn’t see her first.”

“You gonna be nice and share?”

That makes him grin. “We’ll see. If she’s too much to handle, well…”

That makes them snicker.

You shouldn’t assume someone’s a thug just ‘cause of the way they look. But in his case, those scars weren’t earned through gentle accidents.

And when he gets you home, someplace probably tropical, someplace where a missing foreigner isn't that surprising a thing, he'll show you exactly how dangerous it is to smile at a criminal and expect him to just let it go.

#A little short today guys BUT something longer is dropping soon #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #reader insert #x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #Yandere oc x reader #Foreign Yandere #male yandere #yandere writing #yanderecore #yandere x darling #yandere male

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madewithsilk · 2 days ago

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dealer!ellie with bimbo!reader 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that’s usually so sweet to you, treating you like a delicate princess who can't do anything by herself. She'll practically mansplain things to you, and when your head can't fathom anything, she'll simply chuckle and do it for you. That's how she likes it, keeping you dumb and dependent most of the time.

"What's wrong, ma', can't roll it right?" She chuckles, watching you struggle and try to roll a joint for her. She places her hands right over you, guiding yet watching you still miserably fail. "Jus' don' worry about it, lean back, 'kay?" Your little dumb nods fuel her even more.

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that likes keeping you high and floaty constantly to make you easier to deal with. There's very few times she'd prefer you at full force. Whether it be on a weekend that you're constantly nagging her or a day you're acting up and she wants you to be apologetic, she'll coerce you into finishing a whole joint by yourself.

“Yeah, mama? Feeling all nice n’ airy?” She whispers, kissing down your neck. Your eyes flutter, half-lidded and staring at Ellie. All that leaves your lips is mumbles and a nod. "Y-yea," Ellie simply chuckles, "Yeah, baby? Jus’ spread your legs a little wider for me?” Having you high and unaware is such easy access.

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that fucks you even more senseless than you already are. Strip you without any heads up, ram her strap into you, and give you a persistent pace to deal with. Or maybe she'll bend you over the counter when you're making something for her, eating you out from the back. It's slightly humiliating to be just a fuck toy for free use, but you're too dumb to even process that.

“Only good for taking my dick, huh, ma’?” She whispers, her fingers curling into your g-spot over and over again nonstop. You babble, manicured fingernails digging into her bicep, jaw going slack, little "uhn, ngh, fuckkk,"s leave your lips. Her words are always condescending with a bit of praise mixed in, she notices how much tighter you get when her insults are disguised as sweet words. "Fuckin' dumb on my cock, no wonder I love you so much,"

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie that knows you're usually so fucking good for her, listening to her every word mindlessly with doe-eyes and a willing gaze because Ellie was just so sweet so how could you not behave! It always takes her by surprise when you don't behave, and she has to teach your little brain it's not nice to be bad. Maybe she's a little stern with her punishments, but she just wants to get it through your head! When you're both at a party, Ellie is far too busy dealing to give you any attention, and all you're doing is being bored by her side.

You huff a few times, grind against her thigh a few more, and after getting shut down each time with either a stern gaze or a "Be patient, baby. Don't make me repeat myself, 'kay?" while she doesn't even acknowledge your presence, counting her money, you finally get enough of it. You stand and walk away, ass swaying with the little miniskirt you wore, finding one of Ellie's closest friends, Abby.

Abby was attractive, that much was undeniable. But she wasn't the same as Ellie to you, yet you knew if you pretended, Ellie would still be ticked off. Your arms wrapped around Abby's neck, and Ellie's eyes darted over with a mean, mean stare. You finally got her attention, yet it wasn't the good type.

She dragged you out of there without any hesitation, hand-fisted in your hair, and a silent car drive till you both got home. It ended with you bent over her lap, squirming, crying, as she slapped your ass over and over again. “Embarrassing the fuck out of me at a party? Seriously, babe?” Your sobs and babbles were loud, spit drooling down your chin. "I'm sorry— said I was sorry!" You envisioned a different type of discipline, perhaps fucking you into the mattress, but this? Definitely not. "Too fuckin' bad, should've thought about this before you went to be a whore with Abby."

.ᐟ.ᐟ dealer!ellie who's possessive but in a bragging, show-off way. She'll pick out your outfits for you, bralette-like tops with miniskirts that expose your entire ass. She likes having people stare at what they'll never get.

She takes you to every dinner with her friends, right beside her in a booth, only speaking when spoken to with your tits out. Ellie will even play with your clit under the table for being so good to her. "Arm candy over there, Williams?" One of them will say, and you won't even think twice about the objectifying nature of the statement, merely happy you're seen as Ellie's.

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codnasties · 3 days ago

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p!link collection 5 👻🚬🧢🧼🪦🗡🐺 (🌽 links)

includes: ghost, price, gaz, soap, graves, konig & makarov

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ghost 👻

the fucker ghost is, having fun with new rectruits, especially the ones that dare flirt with him

new pretty admin staff? it isn't gonna take long for ghost to have you half naked on your desk as he fucks you

seeing you do such a good job deep throating him as a surprise almost makes ghost cum instantly

being fucked by ghost big cock feels like being impaled, and theres is only so much your cunt can take

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

price 🚬

a handful of words coming from price is all it takes to turn you putty, even more so when he's talking you through it

if price is going to be stuck in a safehouse with you, might as well live out some of his exhibitionist fantasies

price makes sure to use his strong arms to keep you still as he explores your sweet cunt with his tongue

all the knots price learnt in the military pay off when he gets to tie you up nicely

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

gaz 🧢

do not let this menace have acces to your tits, because he can't not get his hands on them, espacially your nips

gaz is one of those people that just won't shut up during sex, dirty words always leaving his mouth

gaz fucking the milf he has as a neighbour when he has the chance to, making sure to fill you up nicely

just gaz getting lost in the pussy while eating you out

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

soap 🧼

soap will holeheartedly beg on his knees for you to sit on his face, like please give him a chance to eat you out

it's soap's mission to make a fucking mess, making you squirt and his cum leaking out of your cunt

a glance of skimpy lace lingerie and soap is furning into a feral hungry animal in need of some pussy

soap has a thing for feet, not just the feeling of your feet, but give him a sock and that's enough for him

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

graves 🪦

graves loves himself some tits, particularly when you are riding him and he can take them in his mouth

graves is one hell of a strong man, an he for sure uses his strength to manhandle you as he fucks

graves doesn't own a leash, be he for sure has a belt that he loves to wrap around your neck

graves has learnt how to deal with the inconveninet boners he gets sometimes, even when he's driving

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

konig 🗡

do not push your ass against konigs hard cock even when still in underwear, he will make a mess out of his boxers

my biggest konig hc: he as hyperspermia, cock always leaking and making massive messes with his cum

my pathetic little baby konig, just the feeling of his sweats against his hard cock is enough to make him cum

plumber!konig won't take payment. well, at least not in cash, but maybe some pussy sound good

· · ────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ────── · ·

makarov 🐺

makarov pulls your thong while he spanks you, making your clit catch in the soaking wet fabric

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myntrose · 1 day ago

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Missing You !

ೃ⁀➷: how the l&ds boys are when they miss you.

a/n: I want these men so bad it hurts. n e ways trying something different from smau 🤍 this is part one, will write the other boys later. Also pls send requests !!

content warning: the boys missing you to the point where it's a bit concerning. maybe ooc. Suggestive in Xavier's part towards the end. Did not proof read srry💔

ft: Zayne, Xavier x reader (separately)

pt. 1 , pt. 2

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ zayne (705 words)

the hospital holds an unnerving chill in the air. everyone can feel it; the staff, nurses, patients and the other doctors. and even though everyone could feel it, no one chose to acknowledge the source of this tension. because no one wants to disturb Dr. Zayne when he's in one of these moods.

It's another hard day for Zayne. The paperwork seemed endless, he's had to deal all sorts of patients, and he hasn't seen you in a week. You were out in a mission, nothing out of the normal for a hunter. But Zayne couldn't help but worry. He loves you, knows you're more than capable of handling yourself, but worrying about you comes as easy as breathing to him. It's second nature, an everyday thought.

Just as he starts to steady himself, the ink of his pen explodes on the report he was writing. He about ready to lose it, letting out a deep, heavy sigh. Zayne isn't usually this disoriented, and it's making him go mad.

Moving from his desk, Zayne paces around his office, opening your last message. it stresses him out that it was 2 days ago.

ms.hunter: ugh this mission is so dumb. smt happened and now it looks like ill be gone longer. im sorry babe :(((

He grips his phone a little harder. Paces the room with heavier steps. Breaths another sigh.

What is wrong with me?

A knock at his door disrupts his pacing.

"What?"

Zayne doesn't realize he said that with a bit too much bite, a bit too coldly. The door opens to reveal his new secretary, looking like a scared little lamb entering the lions den.

He looks at his secretaries face, realizing his harsh tone. Zayne murmurs a quick apology, asking his secretary if there was something needed.

"There's someone here to meet you, Dr. Zayne. Said they had an appointment?" The secretary trails their sentence like a question, knowing that Zayne shouldn't have any appointments today. Poor thing was shivering from the doctor's cold demeanor.

The veins on Zayne's head are almost visible now. On top of this day, an unscheduled appointment? Had it not been for his doctors oath to not harm, he would've denied this appointment.

Another sigh leaves him, as he tells his secretary to let the mystery appointment inside his office. Zayne makes his way back to his desk, head in hands trying to compose himself.

"You really shouldn't be sighing so heavily, Dr. Zayne. Heard it's bad for you"

Zayne's head whipped so fast towards the doorway, that you almost left bad for laughing at the action.

He blinks once, then another, before standing up and meeting you halfway across the room.

" 'm sorry for not texting you sooner, but I've been working twice as hard to get done with my mission-"

You don't get to finish your sentence before Zayne crashes his lips into yours. This kiss was desperate, filled with longing and want. It's almost startling, usually Zayne is more composed than his.

"would be more composed had you told me you'd be arriving back today" Zayne responds, perfectly reading your thoughts. Before you could say anything, he kisses you again. This time, he's softer, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other cradling your face.

You're the one to pull apart first, desperately needing air. Looks like your boyfriend missed you more than you realized. Oh, this was gonna be so fun.

Zayne scoffs, but he's still holding you close. "I do not scowl. It's just been a stressful week at the hospital."

You laugh at that. God, he missed your laugh. He missed you. He walks the both of you to his desk, where he sits you on his lap as he takes a seat.

"Did you miss me that much? It's only been a week."

"A week too long, my love"

While you and Zayne catch up, the rest of the hospital is glad that the chill in the air has died down. Looks like the staff knows who to call when their doctor is in that mood.

𓆩✧𓆪 xavier (570 words)

there's only a few things that causes Xavier to wake up. Either you shaking him awake, peppering his face with kisses, or when you steal the blanket from him.

Actually, it's mostly you that causes him to wake up. And right now, the reason why sleep escapes him is because it seems like you escaped the bed at some point.

Xavier feels around your side of the bed, only to be met with emptiness. Confused, he wakes up, and looks around to see the room still in pitch darkness.

2:34 a.m. It's still horribly early, so you wouldn't have woken up for work. Plus, Xavier knows your schedule better than he knows his. He knows that you don't have any kind of missions to attend to right now.

So, where were you? A sudden rush of thoughts occur at once, and Xavier can't help but assume the worst scenarios. He jumps out of bed and checks around the apartment.

Bathroom? No. Living room? Empty. Kitchen? Quite. He's going a bit crazy, because where did you go?

He just about to rush outside when he hears the sound of keys opening the front door. Turning to the sound, he watches as the door opens to reveal you.

You, holding a bag from the nearby 24/7 convenience store. You walk in, not realizing that Xavier was watching as you enter the room.

You're holding your phone in your other hand, staring at it. It wasn't until you looked up that you noticed you were being watching by your boyfriend.

Your words don't make it to his ears. Rather, he answers you with a question of his own.

"Where were you?" His voice is deep, laced with a serious tone that doesn't quite suit him. Oh no, was he mad?

"I went out to buy ice cream. I couldn't sleep and wanted something sweet. I texted you where I was!" Defending yourself, showing Xavier the bag with a few ice cream bars.

Oh right, he never checked his phone. Xavier pulls his phone out of his pockets, and opens his notifications to see that you in fact did text him where you were.

"Oh."

You move to the kitchen, putting the ice cream away. "Yeah, oh is right. What, d'ya think I just left without saying a work ?" You only meant that jokingly, of course. Turning around, Xavier is right behind you, caging you between himself and the fridge.

It wasn't until you looked at his eyes when you realized that, oh, he was worried. The realization sets in, and you understand what just happened. Xavier had woken up, and genuinely thought you were done.

Your eyes soften as you look at him, moving your hands to his face "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that." Xavier melts into your touch, and you both stay like this for a while.

You speak up first. "Why don't we go back to sleep?"

Xavier opens his eyes, looking down at you. "Actually, I'm not sleepy right now. I think I'm hungry."

"Do you want some of the ice cream I bought? I got your favorite flavor- Xav- Xavier why are we going to the bedroom?"

"I said I was hungry."

"Oh...?!"

Later that morning, you had to call into work "sick" for both you and Xavier.

#love and deepspace #l&ds #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #zayne x reader #Xavier x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace fluff #zayne x reader fluff #Xavier x reader fluff #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace zayne x reader #love and deepspace Xavier x reader

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 2 days ago

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[9:43 pm]

(cw: f!reader, Mark is drunk)

"Fuck yeah! Keg stand champion!" You hear someone yell as you make your way into the crowded living room of the NXT frat house.

You hadn't planned on being here tonight. You had some assignments you wanted to get a jump on, you hadn't been in the best mood all day, and you didn't feel like spending your night around a bunch of drunken, bumbling idiots.

So how did you end up here? Your drunk, bumbling boyfriend fratboy!Mark. Well, not him directly. He'd been a little whiny when you told him you weren't going to come to the party tonight, but he understood your reasoning and didn't push. You'd actually gotten a call from Johnny about 20 minutes ago asking you to come help with Mark.

Mark was a lightweight, like a featherweight even. If he even smelled alcohol, he got tipsy. For the most part, during parties, you put yourself in charge of making sure Mark didn't get too drunk. When he got too drunk he got messy. Without you being there, there was no one to be in charge. You should have guessed you'd be getting this call at some point in the night, but not less than an hour after the party began.

You elbow past some drunk party goers and make your way upstairs toward one of the bathrooms that's always off limits during parties. You knock, hearing a muffled, "occupied! Use a bathroom downstairs!"

"Johnny," you reply, "it's me."

You hear a retch and cringe, listening as Johnny pulls the door open. He let's out a sigh of relief, "I'm sorry, he just wouldn't stop crying because he missed you. I don't know how you deal with this. He's fine with you, right?"

"Of course he is. Thanks for calling, enjoy your party," you nod with a smile.

Johnny leaves you and Mark alone in the bathroom and you take to helping Mark out. You rub his back and give him the water bottle Johnny had left on the counter for him. Mark is groaning the whole time, eyes shut as he curls in on himself. After about 15 minutes you know that he's done.

He's slumped against the toilet bowl when you pat his cheek, "come on, babe. Let's get you back to bed."

He doesn't even open his eyes as he whines, "not goin' to my room wi' you."

"We need to get you to bed, babe, come on," you prod.

His eyes snap open as he lifts his head, "Stop callin' me babe. Look, I have a girlfriend alright. She won't be happy if I bring another girl to my room."

"Mark, I am your girlfriend," you explain.

"No, you're not," Mark shakes his head like a child, "my girlfriend didn't wanna come out tonight, and she said— she said she's not comin' tonight." He's looking up at you with tears in his eyes, "I really miss 'er."

You crouch down beside him, cupping his cheek as you coo, "baby, I'm here. It's me."

"No, you're not you!" He squints at you, rubbing his eyes and grumbling about needing his glasses, "if you're my girlfriend, tell me something only my girlfriend would know."

You stare at Mark blankly, as his girlfriend since senior year of high school, there's a lot of things only you would know. You shrug and answer anyway, "when we lost our virginities to each other you cried."

"My mom knows that too, pick something else!"

"Mark, why would you tell your mom about that?" You ask incredulously.

"She loves me!" He cries, "just like my girlfriend! I miss my girlfriend!"

"Oh my— Mark Lee. It's me, I'm your girlfriend. You text me every time you need to wash your sheets because you forget how much detergent you need, you like it when I kiss below your ear, you keep snacks under your bed for midnight snacks, and you have a crush on the librarian on the third floor for some reason," you list off.

"Oh, my snuggle muffin! It is you! I missed you!" Mark exclaims as he throws himself into your lap, embracing you tightly.

You laugh, brushing your fingers through his damp hair, "I told you. Can we get you to bed now?"

"You're staying right?"

"Yes, Mark."

#kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #nct #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct timestamps #nct x reader #nct drabbles #nct blurbs #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream x reader #nct dream drabbles

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lexiputellas · 14 hours ago

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Pillow Talk

It’s your first day back at work.

You stretched your maternity leave as far as humanly possible, used every single vacation day, and worked from home until you ran out of excuses—but today, there was no escaping it. You had to go back. At least your office has a daycare. If it didn’t, you’re pretty sure you would’ve quit on the spot.

Now, finally home, you don’t think you’ve ever been happier to see Alexia. Not only did she get back before you, but she also brought dinner. You could’ve kissed her right then and there—actually, you did. You love her, truly, but if she had waited for you to cook—or, God forbid, asked you to help—you might have had a breakdown.

Dinner was great, dishes were ignored, Alice fell asleep peacefully, and now you’re both getting ready for bed. It’s your favorite part of the night—when everything slows down, and you can just be. Alexia already talked about her day, and now it’s your turn. Normally, this would be when you two discuss important things, but Nicole unloaded so much gossip at work today that you have to let it out before your brain explodes.

You’re fluffing the pillows as you talk, and Alexia, already lying on her side under the covers, is nodding along like a very patient woman.

“Nicole told me Amanda from Compliance is literally faking a relationship online.”

Alexia blinks, lifting her head slightly. “How?”

“I don’t know yet! I’m getting more details tomorrow,” you say, putting in your bruxism mouth guard. “I don’t even get why she’d lie, she doesn’t need to.”

Alexia hums, settling back in.

That’s encouragement. You keep going.

"And you won’t believe this—the sitter at daycare said Alice was the easiest baby to deal with. She barely even cried! Which, like, I knew our baby was perfect, but now it’s confirmed by an expert."

Alexia hums again. This time, it sounds more like sleepy agreement than actual interest, but you’re on a roll now.

“And remember that guy from the party last year? The one who told you he was a Real Madrid fan?”

Alexia makes a vague noise of acknowledgment.

“Not that he was special or anything,” you continue, “but he invited Nicole out.”

That gets a reaction. Alexia forces one eye open. “That guy?”

“That guy.”

“She said yes?”

“She said yes. And if she’d asked me first, I would’ve told her absolutely not.”

Alexia exhales, long and slow, adjusting the blanket. “Baby, I love you so much, and I want to hear all of this… tomorrow. We have to wake up early.”

Which you think is fair. She was the one running around after a ball, going to the gym, lifting weights—you mostly just fought with spreadsheets, tried not to cry when Alice waved goodbye way too enthusiastically at daycare, and dodged an email from HR that felt suspiciously passive-aggressive.

“I know,” you say, climbing under the covers. “I love you too. But can I just finish really quick? I swear, I’m almost done.”

She hums again. That’s permission.

“So, turns out the guy? He was dating someone else the whole time. Poor Nicole, bless her heart, but maybe a little stalking would’ve helped her.”

Silence.

You glance over. Alexia’s eyes are closed, her face relaxed, her breathing slow and even.

“Oh,” you whisper. “You’re already asleep.”

You sigh, amused, and watch her for a moment. The way her eyelashes rest against her cheeks, the way her hair falls across the pillow, the faintest hint of a smile still lingering on her lips—it makes your chest ache in the best way.

She looks warm, soft, safe. Like home.

Carefully, you scoot closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

“Good night, baby,” you murmur, even though she’s already lost in dreams.

Then, finally, you close your eyes.

#barcelona x reader #x reader #woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #alice

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gojo-mochi · 2 days ago

Text

Telling OP Char: “Are you gonna eat that?” And pointing to their crouch

Something silly - Based on that one Tweet

TW: Suggestive

Luffy:

Says “No” with a mouthful of food, he doesn’t know what you’re pointing at, but he assume it’s food and he will not share that easily. When you point again, trying to make it known to him that you’re not about to steal any of his dinner, Luffy will just get confused on why you want to eat his shorts.

“Are shorts tasty? Should I try eating mine right now?!”

Will take off his shorts in the middle of dinner, or at least try to until someone yells at him for doing it. You will have to drag him inside a room later and just show him what you really meant.

Sanji:

Doesn’t get it at first, mostly worried about you being hungry first of all.

“Oh, are you still hungry, dear? I can whip something up for you real quick! Anything you like~”

What you like is Sanji maybe with some whipped cream on top as well. So, you repeat the question, this time making your point known by running your hand up his thigh and gently palming his crouch. His face gets beat-red and he drops any cooking utensil he was holding in his hands.

“Like right here? In the kitchen? Right now?” Sanji seems panicked and flustered with his questions but he’s quickly approaching you with each question he asked, until your back hits one of the table in the kitchen. His hands on either side, his breath quicken and short as he looks down at you. All you needed to seal with the deal was lean and for a kiss and Sanji would handle the rest. He’ll even let you use the whipped cream on him if you really want to.

Zoro:

Quirks an eyebrow at you and says nothing, goes back to his workout and pretend you’re not there. He was lifting a 300-pound weight like it was nothing.

“...Can I take your silence as a ‘yes’?”

You weren’t gonna back down that easily. You hear Zoro snort, but his expression doesn’t change. “What was the question again?”

You sigh, “I asked if you were going to- *you point to the middle of his sweatpants* eat that?”

Zoro fights hard to keep a straight face as he counters with “Eat my pants? You’re asking if I was going to eat my pants in the middle of my workout?”

“That’s not what I-”

“Oh no, you meant that as one of your cutesy-jokes, right? What you actually mean is that you want to suck me off, hmm? You want to put that pretty little mouth right on my cock and use your sweet tongue to lick up all the sweat down there and then you want to-”

You slap your hand over Zoro’s mouth, you feel his mouth move into a smirk underneath your palms. Damn it, it was his victory this time.

Robin:

Smiles gently at you, and closes the book she was reading and placed it on the table. She say nothing to you but just kept on staring at you with that smile. You start to sweat a bit, it feels like you’re in trouble for making this joke to her.

“Umm, I’m really sorry, I-I’ll just go now.”

You turn to leave and just when you were about to put your hand on the door, a set of hands springs out from the door and turns you back around to face robin. Her hands pushed you towards her actual body as she waits at the same spot, leg crossed and that patient smile on her face.

More sweat beads down your neck as the silence stretches on for what seems like hours. The hands keeps you in place, so you can’t make another attempt to escape.

“..., Robin?”

“No.”

You make a confused face. “No?” You repeat back to her.

“No, I’m not. So, are you going to finish it for me?” Her tone level and cool, still confusing the heck out of you though. Robin leans back in her chair and uncrossed her legs, lifting up the hem of her skirt with one finger.

“Oh? … Oh!”

Well, it would be rude to leave now, right? You gotta finish what you started. And it not like Robin will let you leave that easier, anyway, but don’t worry her hands will also be helping themselves to your body as you start your meal~

Kidd:

“What..?”

Kidd looks at you with a scowl on his face. Then down at his pants and then back up to you. “If you want to suck my cock was say so, don’t confuse me with that shit.”

You roll your eyes, lightly kicking him in the shins for being a spoil-sport about it. You turn your back to him and start leave when you hear Kidd shout at you.

“Oy! I didn’t say no! You can’t just leave like that! I’m already hard thinking about it!”

You hold back a snicker and look back at Kidd, fluttering you eyelashes at him cutely. “You have to play along though~”

Kidd makes a face at that, scowling even harder. He grumbles something under his breath.

“What was that? You gotta be louder.”

“I’ll show you loud…” Kidd sighs heavily, weighing the options in his head.

“Fine… No, I am not going to eat my cock, so would you please come finish it for me or whatever.”

“Oh my! Captain Kidd said the word ‘Please’? It must be my lucky day!”

Kidd face turns beet red as he stomps over to you and throws you over his shoulder. “Shut up, I did what you ask for, so you better be ready to eat all of it.”

“And if I find a single drop on the floor, I’ll make you lick it up in front of me, got it?”

#op x reader #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #Robin x reader #kidd x reader #softy writes

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moody-alcoholic · 3 days ago

Text

Inspired by: Service Dog Johnny by the amazing void-my-warranty. I had the idea of; what if the roles were slightly different. What if Johnny invited Simon to come and fuck his girl to get over his fears.

Anyway. I'm super nervous about this because I really don't think I can do SDJ justice but enjoy none the less. Also void if you're seeing this you're awesome thank you for gifting the world SDJ.❤️

Part 1

Summary: John MacTavish x reader x Simon Riley (kinda), WC: 3.2k

CW: +18 content MDNI, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, angst, implied past abuse.

Enjoy <3

---

It’s Friday when Johnny springs the news his friend is coming round that evening. He didn’t give you much time to prepare, or get the house clean but you do the best you can. Johnny does go to the store for you and picks up some beer for them both.

“You don’t need to do anything special.” Johnny says opening a beer.

“I don’t mind, it's not that big of a deal, I like cooking.” You say, he comes over and wraps his arm round your waist kissing your neck.

“What exactly does he need help with?” You asks stirring the food.

“Well, it’s.” He sighs, taking another sip of the beer. You turn to look at him, he seems nervous.

“Would you ever be up for a threesome?” He asks suddenly. The question shocks you a little, you reach over and pick up your glass of wine. You weren’t expecting that, not the most unusual thing Johnny has asked you about when it comes to sex though.

“I mean, would you?” You ask taking a sip to quell the nerves.

“Depends on who the other person is.” He says, running his hand through his hair. You take another sip and put the glass down.

“What has this got to do with Simon? Is he the person you would want to have a threesome with?” You ask frowning. He takes another swing of his beer.

“It’s not that simple.” Johnny says, you shake your head, now you’re even more confused.

“I want to help him have sex.” Johnny says, holding his hands out.

“Help him have sex by having a threesome?” You ask.

“There’s more to it than that. It’s not just a threesome.” Johnny says. “He’s, he’s been through alot. Being intimate, it’s something he’s not very used to.”

“Okay. Is he shy?” You’re not sure what to say, you've never even met him.

“Shy? No, not Simon, well-” Johnny’s sentence gets cut off by the ringing of the door.

“Just trust me, okay?” He says coming over to you and resting his free hand on your shoulder. You nod, you trust him. Now all of a sudden you feel nervous, you weren’t nervous before now, Johnny leaves the room to answer the door. So he’s invited Simon round for sex? Did Simon ask for this or is this one of Johnny’s master plans?

Or well, maybe he’s not here for sex because Simon has intimacy issues apparently. He should be talking to a therapist, what does Johnny expect to do? You have to keep a straight face though, you don’t want to make him more uncomfortable then he probably already is.

You turn off the stove hearing Johnny laugh as he comes in with Simon. You turn and smile at him, you put your hand out to shake it as Johnny introduces you. He’s not what you expect and he doesn’t seem shy.

He’s massive, bigger and taller than Johnny, he’s definitely good looking, fit, brown eyes and blonde hair. With the way he holds himself you can tell he’s a soldier, Johnny does the same when he’s nervous, he probably doesn’t even realise it.

“Thank you for cooking, you didn’t have to.” Simon says as you all walk over to the dining table.

“I told her the same,” Johnny says, nudging him.

“I don’t mind, besides when was the last time you had a home cooked meal?” You say going back into the kitchen while Johnny and Simon sit down. You finish your glass of wine swallowing the nerves, it’s going to be fine. What's the worst that could happen, you all have sex?

That wouldn’t be the worst thing.

…

Johnny and Simon seem to get on great, after a beer they both relax. You just enjoy listening to them talk about their last deployment. You don’t mind letting your second glass of wine mull you out. After everyone is finished and your stomach’s have settled Johnny insists on moving to the living room.

You all end up on the sofa, you find yourself relaxing against Johnny as he wraps his arms around you. Maybe Johnny won’t bring it up or maybe he’s waiting for Simon to bring it up. It’s not your job surly, you look up at Johnny, blinking at him, maybe he’ll get the idea.

He smiles and kisses your forehead. Maybe not. You sigh looking back over at the bottle of wine and unopened beer cans on the table.

“When was the last time you got laid LT?” Johnny asks suddenly. You snap your head back up to look at him. He’s got a cheeky grin on his face looking over at Simon. You hear him clear his throat, now you feel bad. Fucking epitome of subtle as always Johnny.

“Why do you want to know?” Simon replies, you look over at him. He’s resting the beer on his knee, he doesn’t seem nervous. More irritated that Johnny asked him.

“Just looking out for you Si. Need you to blow off some steam before we’re back to work and you’re busting my balls again.” Johnny chuckles, at least that makes Simon smile.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask him trying to steer the conversion away from the awkwardness hanging in the air.

“No.” You swallow the lump forming in your throat. You let out a breath sitting up. Johnny frowns at you.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You say, Johnny smiles his hand resting on your hip for as long as can.

When you make your way back down you hear Johnny talking. You hang back for a second and eavesdrop.

“I wanna help you Simon.” Johnny says.

“You don’t have to.” Simon replies.

“Well of course I don’t have to. I want to.” Johnny replies, Simon sighs and you hear a can open. “I think it would be good for you, if you want. We’ll take it slow, promise.”

You feel a lump rise in your throat at Johnny’s words, you always knew he was close with his unit but you didn’t know he was this close. You let out a breath and slowly walk back into the room. You see Johnny move his hand off Simon’s thigh and you go over to pick the empty cans off the table.

“Need anything?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level. Johnny and Simon both shake their heads. You go into the kitchen anyway to throw out the cans. You hear Johnny coming in, his hands slip round your waist. You smile at his touch and turn to face him.

“Do you mind doing this?” Johnny asks, his thumb comes up to brush your cheek.

“Do you?” You ask. He smiles, nodding his head. You smile back, reaching up and kissing him.

“We’ll take it slow. You want to stop at any time we will.” Johnny says his hand rubbing your arm.

“I don’t think it’s me you need to be worrying about.” You say.

“Sorry I sort of sprung this on you, I didn’t know if he would agree.” He says, you frown.

“Did you speak to him about this before tonight?”

“I hinted at the idea.”

“Hinted?” You scoff. “John MacTavish, you're the least subtle person I have ever met.” You wrap your arm around his waist pulling him against you. He hums with that cheeky grin on his face.

“What happened to the bra?” He asks. You smile.

“One less obstacle.” He kisses your forehead. You follow him back into the living room, Simon has moved onto the recliner. This time when you sit back on the sofa you don’t lean against Johnny.

Simon seems to be suddenly extremely interested in what’s going on on the news. Johnny’s hand lands on your thigh and rubs it. He turns and leans in to kiss you, he takes his time mapping your mouth out, you relax into the kiss forgetting Simon’s there for a second.

Johnny’s hand slips up your shirt groping your breast. You hum in his mouth and he pulls away from the kiss. He removes it, gripping the hem of your shirt. You raise an eyebrow at him, what you’re just going to fuck while he watches or maybe joins in.

Johnny tips his head to the side smiling. You swallow the nerves and hold your hands up so he can slip your top off. A satisfied noise leaves Johnny and before you can start to feel really embarrassed about anything he’s already locked his mouth round one of your nipples.

You can’t help moaning and running your hand through his hair. He had it cut while he was away, you want him to grow it out again so you have something to grip onto. Johnny’s tongue flicks your nipple and he gently nibbles it before he pulls his mouth off with an audible pop.

“What do you think, Si?” Johnny asks, looking over at him. You look over to see Simon press his lips together. “Pretty ain’t she?”

You feel heat rush to your cheeks as he nods, it doesn’t last long though. Johnny pulls you closer to him, planting his lips on yours and pressing his tongue in your mouth while his thumb rubs circles on your nipple still wet from his mouth.

He breaks from the kiss pressing his forehead on yours. “How ‘bout you go show Simon how good you are?” He says, it’s almost a whisper. You nod and he gives you one last quick kiss before you stand up.

Johnny's hand lingers on the small of your back for as long as he can as you step over to stand in front of Simon. He doesn’t look that nervous, you know he is though, the way his lips are pressed together avoiding your eye line. His hands gripping the chair arms. You’re not sure what to do, make sure you don’t freak him out is probably a good start.

“I’m not a virgin.” He says, you clench your jaw feeling awkward. “It’s just been a while, I'm out of practice.”

“How long?” You ask.

You bring his hand up and place it on your breast. “I like having my nipples played with.” You say letting go of his hand, encouraging him to squeeze. You smile at him, you need to keep yourself open and calm.

“Couple of years,” he says, like it's the most embarrassing fact in the world. Now you just feel bad for him, again. You reach down for the hand resting on the chair arm and pick it up. You can see the bulge in his pants, that's good, one less obstacle you need to worry about.

His hands are rougher than Johnny’s, his grip is tighter, you’re not sure if it’s out of nerves or not. If he relaxes it will be easier, you don’t think that's going to be happening any time soon. His thumb brushes over your nipple and you reward it with a hum, trying to make your body relax even more.

His other hand comes up to your other beast and before you know it he has both his thumbs running over your nipples. It feels good, if this were any other situation-or Johnny you might be able to cum just like this.

You feel Johnny step up behind you, his hands land on your waist as he pulls you back against him.

“Wanna see what else she likes?” He asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. Simon looks up at him and nods. Johnny leaves you and Simon drops his hand as you both watch Johnny move the coffee table out the way. When he’s done he goes over to the sofa and pulls the throw down on the floor, sitting down with his back against the sofa.

“Come.” He says gesturing at you, you raise an eyebrow and walk over anyway, he spreads his legs and pats on the floor between them.

“Pants off, back on my chest.” He says, you nod pulling them off. This time you don’t get embarrassed thinking about Simon seeing you. You sit down between his legs and rest up against his back. You look over at Simon who’s face has turned a light red. Maybe this is too much, too fast.

He hasn’t said stop though. Johnny reaches over and pulls your knees up so Simon has a perfect view of you spread out against him. You can feel his own cock pressing against your lower back, his hands run down your thighs eventually pressing on your clit.

You try not to squirm, keeping yourself still. You let out a breath as Johnny moves his fingers round soaking them in your juices before pressing them back on your clit. You moan this time at the new sensation, his fingers pressing little circles with ease.

That’s good though right? You should be looking like you’re enjoying yourself. This is a fun activity not something to be afraid off.

“She likes this too, Si. Wanna feel?” Johnny says then presses a kiss into your neck. You watch as he shifts in the chair, for a second he looks like he doesn’t know what to say. He lets out a sigh and stands up out of the chair, he steps over then kneels down in front of you. He watches for a second as Johnny changes his strokes.

You see Simon swallow before he reaches out. Johnny’s fingers are replaced with his. It’s a whole different sensation. His movements are slower, more unsure but the pressure is there and from having them both play with your nipples your body is slowly building up to that sweet release.

“Put your fingers in her.” Johnny says after a few seconds. Simon looks up at him then quickly to you, you smile and nod at him. He shuffles on his knees again taking his fingers off your clit almost like he’s unsure.

You watch his adam's apple bob then he presses a finger into you. You can’t help moaning, his finger stops, you smile at him and he continues to press it in until he can’t anymore. You feel Johnny’s cock twitch behind you. He’s enjoying this, he moves his fingers back to your clit.

“Feel good love?” Johnny asks in your ear, you nod. “Use your words darlin’ tell him how good you feel.”

“Your finger feels good Simon, you can use more if you want.” You say looking up at him. You think you see the faintest smile creep onto his lips. The next time he pulls his finger out he adds another. The new stretch makes you part your legs further, scooting your position slightly so his fingers rub against your g-spot with each thrust. You moan again, this time tipping your head slightly. You want to come but not until Simon’s ready, you don’t want to scare him.

“See not so scary after all.” Johnny says, you can hear the smile in his voice. You look up at Simon who seems like he’s in a world of his own, maybe that's where he needs to be to get through this. You wonder what happened to him, you didn’t bother asking Johnny. It must have been something horrible.

You let out a moan trying not to clench down on Simon’s fingers, you don’t want to spook him. Johnny hums in your neck, you know he’ll know you’re close, sometimes it feels like he can read your body better than you.

“What to make her cum?” Johnny asks, you almost want to nod and scream yes. Simon looks up again, he hesitates for a second, his fingers stopping in you. He nods and you smile at him.

“Just don’t take your fingers out okay?” Johnny asks, you swallow, you don’t want either of them to take their fingers off you. Simon nods again, his fingers start moving again, he makes sure to press in all the way. He speeds up too, you’re not in control anymore, maybe it’s for the best.

Johnny’s fingers on your clit are relentless, you’re focusing on not spooking Simon or clenching around his fingers until you cum. Johnny hums in your ear and it sends shivers down your spine. He can tell your close cock twitches behind you. You’re not sure if you need to give an audible warning to Simon though.

Your breathing increases as does your moaning, you’re close and you need to make your mind up.

“Johnny.” You call his name, it’s almost like you need to wait for his permission, you’re not sure what to do.

“Yeah baby, come for us.” His voice low in your ear. Christ, that's all the permission you need, you tip your head back and close your eyes moaning as you clench down on Simon’s fingers. He stops moving but you don’t care. Johnny rides you through the orgasm as Simon’s fingers leave you.

“See, not so bad.” You hear Johnny say. You open your eyes as you feel Simon get up to his feet.

“Si?” Johnny asks as he moves to leave the room. You sit up.

“Bathroom.” Is all he says as he leaves the living room.

“Is he okay?” You ask leaning forward between Johnny’s legs. You turn to look at him watching out the door. You both hear the downstairs toilet door close. Johnny looks back over at you and smiles, you can see the concern in his eyes though, he’s not as slick as he thinks he is.

“You did great.” He smiles, leaning forward to kiss you. You can’t help feeling like you’ve done something wrong though. Maybe it was all too much for him.

“I’ll go check on him.” Johnny says helping you to your feet. You smile at him and nod. Maybe he just needs a second. You feel bad all of a sudden. Johnny leaves and you shiver, the room suddenly feels cold. You’re just standing there naked, you’re not sure if things are going to continue.

You reach over pulling the other throw off the couch and wrap yourself up. At least this way if he wants to keep going you don’t have to go through the hassle of taking all your clothes off. You want to sit down but your curiosity gets the better of you and you head over to the living room door.

You hear the toilet door open. No one says anything, you make sure to keep out of sight of the hall, trying to focus on listening.

You hear Johnny sigh. “You did so well mate.” There’s a sniffle in response, is he crying? Now you really feel bad for eavesdropping.

“Wanna stay the night?” Johnny asks, there’s no response.

“Want a mask?” He asks, you frown, a mask? “Guest room, in the chest of drawers.” You hear movement and step back over to sit on the sofa. You’re still getting comfy as Johnny walks in. He smiles at you and comes over to sit next to you. His arm comes round your shoulders and he pulls you up against him.

“Simon’s going to stay the night.” He says kissing the top of your head. You nod trying to swallow the guilt of eavesdropping on their conversation. Johnny reaches over to pick up the remote and unmute the TV.

“Is he okay?” You ask.

“He’s fine. He just needs a minute.” Johnny says. You nod

“Thank you.” He says. “Really I mean it. You didn’t have to do this.” You look up at him and smile, it makes you feel all warm inside.

“I love you johnny.” You say.

“I love you too.”

---

#call of duty #cod #fanfic #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #simon riley x john mactavish #simon riley x reader #simon riley x john mactavish x reader

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drdemonprince · 14 hours ago

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Imagine a world where we looked at having sex the same way we do going out dancing or grabbing dinner.

Some people really enjoy visiting dance clubs or restaurants, include their partners in these activities, and make them a cornerstone of their social calendar; other folks are quite indifferent, and can take or leave them. Some people might only like engaging in these activities when they are completely alone, and others among us have highly specific preferences for the ways we might participate in them, if at all.

We don’t tend to assume a person’s life is incomplete if they have never been to a rave, and if a new buddy recommends we take an invigorating walk instead of grabbing an order of tibs and injera, we probably don’t bat an eye. If a romantic partner doesn’t share our passion for darkwave it might cause us problems, but we could just as easily call up a buddy with a Boy Harsher shirt and still have a good time.

Most of us recognize there’s potential for trauma surrounding body movement and food, but we don’t consider a person fundamentally broken if their parents forced them to eat vegetables or take a ballet class. We’ll consider it wrong that their feelings weren’t respected, and understand if they never want to join us for Black Swan and cheese fondue.

We don’t clutch our pearls if a child finds out that people twerk or drink wine. Even when forms of these activities are firmly for adults-only, it’s evident to all of us that they can be openly discussed, that no one is harmed by acknowledging their existence. These parts of regular life are not seen as magical, or assumed to be always beneficial or always negative for a person. Sometimes you eat an incredible burger. Sometimes you trip over your feet and briefly look like an ass. Neither defines your life or brings you to ruin.

And in the bold, sex neutral world that I am proposing, we’d have much the same attitudes toward intimacy. If we could view sex neutrally, we wouldn’t necessarily consider it a deal-breaker if a romantic partner enjoyed floggings and we preferred Tantric massage. A person who eschewed all sex or only had sex alone would be a bit of a private type, not a fundamentally different or lacking type of being. If a person was forty-five years old when they made their sexual debut, we’d treat them like someone who found a new hobby later in life, not like they were carrying some major social defect.

When sex was used as a tool of abuse or exploitation, we’d focus a lot more on the facts of the mistreatment, rather than the lurid details of the sex. We wouldn’t treat sex as radioactive, imbuing all it ever touched with a kind of sinister energy. And because we wouldn’t have to push back against such a demonized view of sex, we wouldn’t have to claim that sex was some life-changing, sacred activity that possessed a special ability to cement marriages or alter bodies, either.

Sex would just be a blasé thing, like going to the grocery store, getting a foot massage, taking a shit, or rolling a joint: highly pleasurable to some, completely squicky and uncomfortable to others, varying in its importance over the course of our lifespan, and never fundamentally good nor evil, just a regular part of human life.

We could think dispassionately about sex if this were the case, not viewing gay men in puppy hoods as predators simply for existing in the open air, or penalizing librarians for giving kids resources about their own bodies. We could acknowledge, without flipping out, that fetuses masturbate in the womb, children sometimes tie their dolls up in proto-fetishistic ways, and teenagers have sex with one another.

We would not consider it pathological if a young person had no interest in any of this, or if any person enjoyed sex in ‘unusual’ ways — they’d be no more strange to us than a lover of peanut butter and pickle sandwiches.

And if a child were sexually exploited, or an adult person coerced into sexual activity, sex neutrality would allow us to look to the power and access that made such an awful violation possible. We’d see the problem was that a child had no one but their parent to rely upon, and nowhere else to go when that parent blocked them from seeing friends, restricted their access to food, or used them for personal gratification. Rather than being blinded by our aversion to sex, we’d be able to name all three controlling behaviors as equally wrong, all potentially fraught and traumatic.

I wrote all about sex neutrality and how it helps us to better understand issues of consent, abuse, and desire. You can read it for free (or have it narrated to you by the Substack app) at drdevonprice.substack.com

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beatlblog · 3 days ago

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#ringo be like 🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️🧍‍♂️lol (via cocaineskinny909)

#and Paul's little elvish giggle like the fucking Pillsbury dough boy (via monkberryfields)

#those two being annoying as always#paul over there twirling his hair and giggling#girl. you’re in an interview (via longing4yesterday)

#in front of the whole press????#embarrasing (via slutty-oranges)

the whole entire press

#mom and dad leaving the kid to answer the phone. HURRY UP JOHN COME BACK RINGO DOESN'T KNOW! (via mylonghairedladyy)

#ringo could have bashed their heads together if he wanted to and he didn’t. that’s bravery! (via oneafter909)

#I would hatttteeeee them if I was ringo (via slegastagirl)

#ringo is our strongest soldier (via jarsfullofstarrs)

#god#they should've been killed for this#how did their friends DEAL WITH THIIIIIIIIS (via repressedgaymer)

#oh they're so annoying#like I'm sorry is this interview interrupting ur conversation (via saturn-iidae)

#can't keep his hands off of him#ringo you can hit them with the table on their heads and I'd support you (via ringosmistress)

#some times i want to strangle them#but ringo is so funny here#he just acts like nothings happening (via ringo-starrdust)

#TALKING BEHIND RINGO IS CRAZY (via kickittothekerbe)

#pda in the middle school hallway ass mfs (via therealestwizard)

#lmao ringo calling john OUT (via origami-money)

#silly#but ringo needs to clock them (via deadmornings)

george certainly is

#the streets are asking you to keep some space for jesus 🙏🏽 (via sohardlovingyou)

#Chalk and Cheese at it again 🙄#Guys do you think John had something important to say to Paul that couldn’t wait#or did he just manifest the moment so that he could hear Paul’s cute little giggle and press their foreheads together? (via didwemeetsomewherebefore)

#them#so secretive and for what (via alwaystoreturntome)

#get a room (via 70snasagay)

#ringo looks so sick of them 😭😭😭 (via youvejustbeen-quattroed)

#ringo looks disgusted 😭 (via pinketine)

#I just know Ringo and George where tired of them (via monkeytime333)

ya THINK?

#Look dudes I know ya had to do a lotta press interviews#but Ringo is not a wall! (via shinygoku)

#yes#ringo#yes you have the rightto punch them#we all are jealousof their relationship#and they are speaking when george does#you have the right (via unburstedbubble)

#are all boybands like this? some day I will have to dive into the Lennon and McCartney lore (via inalltheirgorgeouscolors)

#no because hold on a Michael Owen#the way Paul leaned in as soon as he saw John#I can NOT handle this#and they way they were basically face to face has me dead#Holy Spirit and all the rest of it#oh wow (via nufc-carraville)

Ringo’s disapproving side-eye 💀 (via epistolaryfairy)

#the suppressed smile after getting paul giggling.....punchable (via paulpropaganda)

#the fact that you can still hear john call him (via pioggia-latte)

#and ringo annoyed with them (via midnightblueiris)

Ringo:😅excuse me? (via indefiniteluv)

#they are soooooooo#la parejita de atras se me separa (via sansaren)

#LICHERALLY bypassing Ringo (via johns-prince)

#SOOOOOO ANNOYING U R ADULTS (via beatlestheirmeatles)

George is unproblematically chilling over there on the right like 😎 (via crashing-a-jeep)

#for all the tragedy that comes with loving them we also are really lucky bc how is this real lol (via sohardlovingyou)

they're so annoying....... like ur in the middle of an interview.....

#they're the annoying couple in ur class that the teacher separates but they keep talking over you #poor ringo poor george #<- prev #beatl video #28.10.24

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anonymousicecream · 19 hours ago

Text

The Cold CEO Wife (Rose x M Reader)

December 28, 2024

Rose, Park Chaeyoung, your wife. Arranged Wife. Tonight, Rose was working from home, unlike other days when she works from her office. An incident a few days ago, when her biggest rival from highschool, Barbara Park, stumbled upon her during her Christmas gala, causing quite the stir, and in all, ruining Rose’s mood for the next few days. A few minutes later, the door to her office swung open.

“What do you want, Lee Y/n?” She asked, a hint of annoyance in her voice as she didn’t even bother to look at her spouse, her eyes still focused on the computer screen.

“Um… I… I just wanted to check if you need anything Chaeyoung.” You stammered nervously, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew better than to disturb her during her foul moods, but you also knew the consequences of neglecting your duties as a husband.

You kept a respectful distance, your hands clasped in front of your body as you awaited her response. The butterfly tattoo on your wrist pulsed with each anxious beat of your heart, a constant reminder of your subservient role in your marriage. You felt the weight of Rose’s icy glare into you, demanding compliance and obedience.

“Chaeng, are you okay? You haven’t been fine since you last saw Barbara.”

As your words left your mouth, you noticed how her fingers tightened around the mouse she was holding. You notice a flash of anger and disgust crossing her face, her lips curling into a sneer. It didn’t take long before she dragged her gaze away from her laptop to level a cold, intense glare at you.

“Okay?” She repeated mockingly, her voice dripped with disdain. “Define okay, Lee Y/n. Do you think I’m okay after that bitch Barbara tried to undermine me at the gala last night? Do you think I’m okay knowing that wretched harlot is constantly trying to steal my clients and sabotage my business dealings?”

Rose stood abruptly from her chair, the sudden movement causing you to flinch. She walked towards you, her heels clicking ominously on the floor, until she was standing close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her body and smell the intoxicating scent of her perfume.

“I am… not okay,” She hissed, jabbing her perfectly manicured finger against your chest, “And I assure you, the last person I want to discuss is that… that…”

Words seem to fail her momentarily as she struggles to find a term vile enough to describe her nemesis. Her face was flushed with anger and her eyes were blazing with a fury that made you simultaneously feel terrified and strangely aroused.

“Just… focus on your damn duties,” Rose snapped, turning away from you dismissively, “And leave the thinking to me. I have a company to run and a bitch to put in her place, and I don’t need your pitiful attempts at concern holding me back.”

With that, she swept back to her desk, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding and thoughts racing with a dozen conflicting emotions. You knew better than to press the issue further. Instead, you simply nodded meekly and muttered a barely audible “Yes Chaeng”, before backing away towards the door, walking out of the room.

(Later that night)

Rose was still seething as she sat at the dining table, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of revenge and domination over her rival. She barely glanced up when you entered the dining room, carrying a tray laden with the Beef Wellington you prepared for her. You set the tray down in front of her, transferring the freshly cut Beef Wellington onto her plate, already filled with mashed potatoes and gravy.

The aroma of the meal wafted up to Rose’s nostrils, a fragrant, savory scent that should have been appetizing, but that only served to remind her of how much she had lost her appetite, thanks to the stress and anger that consumed her. With a sigh of annoyance, Rose looked down at the plate before her, examining the meal with a critical eye. She poked at it with a fork, as if testing the texture and consistency. After a long, tense moment, she finally looked up at you, her expression unreadable.

“It looks… adequate,” she said curtly. “I suppose you’ve done your job for once.” Her tone was dismissive, but you knew better than to read too much into it. You learned long ago that she was not one for gratuitous praise or empty flattery. With her, you were simply expected to perform your duties to the best of your abilities, no more and no less.

With that, you turned around to leave the dining room, eager to return to your room where you could be free from the ever-present weight of her expectations and demands. However, before you left the room, you paused at the doorway, hesitation written all over your face.

With much hesitation, you turned around and walked towards her, sitting down at the seat in front of her. “Talk.”

Rose arched an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise and mild annoyance flashing across her face as you sat across her. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest as she regarded him with a cool, appraising gaze. “Talk?” She repeated, a note of disbelief coloring her voice. “You want to talk, Lee Y/n? Now?”

She let out a short, sharp laugh, devoid of any real amusement. “Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical of your sudden desire for conversation. Usually, you can barely string two words together without stammering like a nervous little schoolboy.” Rose leaned forwards, her elbows now resting on the table as she fixed you with a penetrating stare. The candlelight flickered across the sharp angles of her face, casting shadows that only served to emphasize the intensity of her gaze. “But very well,” she said, her voice dropping to a low, almost menacing purr, “I’ll indulge you… for now. What is it you want to talk about, hmm?”

She tapped her fingers impatiently on the tablecloth, the sound echoing in the charged silence had fallen between you two. It was clear that she wasn’t a patient woman, and that you would have to choose your words carefully if you wanted to keep her attention and goodwill. “Well?” She prompted, a hint of impatience creeping into her tone. “Out with it then. I don’t have all night to sit here and listen to you prattle on about nothing.”

“Why did you get married to me?”

Her eyes narrowed at your blunt question, a flicker of annoyance and disbelief crossing her face. She leaned back in her chair, regarding him with a cool, appraising stare that seemed to look right through you.

“Why did I marry you?” She repeated, a hint of mockery in her voice. “Isn’t it obvious, Lee Jaehyun? It was a business arrangement, nothing more and nothing less.” She paused, allowing her words to sink in as she studied your face for any signs of reaction. When you remained silent, she continued, her tone turning cynical and bitter. “Our families had an agreement, dating back generations. A merger, of sorts - tying the Park and Lee dynasties together through marriage. It was a deal struck long before either of us were even born.”

Rose’s lips curled into a sneer, a look of disgust and revulsion on her face. “Love had nothing to do with it. Affection, even less. This was a cold, hard business transaction, just like any other deal I’ve made.” She leaned forward, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. “I married you because I’m the heir to Park Enterprise, and it was my duty to secure our family’s legacy. That’s the only reason, and you know that as well as I do.”

“And, throughout the two years of marriage, you never had any thoughts of cheating? Thoughts of sexual desire?” You ask, hoping for a reaction from her.

Her eyes flashed with a mixture of shock and outrage at your boldly crude question. For a moment, she simply stared at you, her face flushed with anger and disgust. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and dangerously calm. “How dare you,” She hissed through clenched teeth, “How dare you speak to me in such a vulgar and disrespectful manner. Do you have any idea who I am? What my status is?”

She stood abruptly from her chair, towering over you with a look of utter disgust etched on her face. “I’m Rose fucking Park, heiress to the Park fortune and one of the most powerful women in this godforsaken country. I do not engage in sordid affairs of cheap trysts.” She took a step closer to you, her heels clicking ominously on the hardwood floor. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear - I’m not some common whore to be bought and paid for with pretty words and empty flattery. You’re my husband, nothing more and nothing less - a position you hold only at the pleasure and tolerance of your betters.”

“WELL HOW DO YOU THINK IT MADE ME FEEL? 2 YEARS STUCK IN THIS MARRIAGE, BEING TREATED LIKE SHIT BY MY OWN WIFE? YOU THINK I LIKE THIS? I DON’T! AND UNLIKE YOU, I DO WANT TO HAVE A GOOD AND BALANCED PERSONAL LIFE, ONE WHERE MY WIFE RESPECTS ME.”

Rose recoiled as if you had slapped her, a look of utter shock and disbelief on her face. She stared at you for a long moment, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly as she struggled to find a response to your brazen outburst. Finally, she found her voice, but it was thick with anger and outrage. “How dare you, how dare you try to turn this around on me, as if I am somehow to blame for your own pathetic inadequacies?”

She took a step back, looking down at you with a mixture of contempt and pity. “You think you deserve a good and balanced life? With a wife who respects you?” She snorted derisively. “Grow up, Lee Jaehyun. This is the real world. You’re my husband, not my friend, and a sling as you remember your place, we won’t have a problem.”

“Fuck you Park Chaeyoung. We’re done. My lawyers will send the papers tomorrow.” With that, you walked out of the room and went to the balcony, lighting up a cigarette.

She stood stunned for a long moment, your parting words ringing in her ears. ‘Fuck you. We’re done.’ The sheer audacity of those words, spoken to her by her own husband, by the very man she had been forced to solemnly vow to love, cherish and obey… it was almost too much for her to comprehend. But as the initial shock began to wear off, a cold, calculated fury took hold of Rose. Her eyes narrowed, her lips thinning into a grim line of determination. She would not let this little rebellion stand. You would not make a fool of her, not now, not ever.

With a sharp, angry click of her heels, she marched out onto the balcony, following the trail of cigarette smoke that hung in the night air. She found you leaning against the railing. You turned to face her as she walked up to you, and for a moment, Park Chaeyoung was struck by the way the moonlight illuminated the hard planes of your face, casting shadows across the strong angles of your jaw, a man you might have been, had circumstances been different.

“You think you can just walk away, Lee Jaehyun?” She hissed, her eyes flashing with anger. “You think you can threaten me, insult me, and then simply… leave?” She shook her head, a bitter, mirthless laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, you stupid, foolish boy. You have no idea what you’ve just done.”

She reached out, grabbing your shirt collar and yanked you roughly towards her. “You don’t get to dictate the terms of this marriage, Lee Jaehyun,”Rose snarled. “Not now, not ever. The only way this ends… is when I say it ends. And until then, you’re still my husband. My property, and I won’t let you go until I’m damn well ready to release you.”

“If so… then catch me, cause I’m falling hard, and I don’t know what to do.” With that, you kiss her lips aggressively. You grabbed her and pulled her into an aggressive, demanding kiss, pinning her against the wall. Her eyes widened and she let out a muffled sound of protest, but it was quickly silenced as his lips claimed hers with a fierce, almost punishing intensity. For a moment, she struggled against you, her hands pushing against his chest in a futile attempt to break the kiss. But as the seconds ticked by, she felt a traitorous heat beginning to build low in her belly, a sensation that both infuriated and thrilled her in equal measure.

When you broke the kiss, the two of you were both left panting, your chests heaving as she stared at you with a mix of anger, confusion, and a dark, primal hunger that neither of you could quite define. Eventually, she let out a few words hoarsely, her words dripping with a venomous, mocking edge. “You think you can just kiss me and make everything better?” She spat, even as her fingers clung to the fabric of your shirt, unwilling to let you go just yet. “You think you can take what you want, whenever you want it, without consequences? Very well, Lee Y/n. You wanna play this game? Then let’s play.”

In a flash, she had spun you around, pinning you against the wall. She then grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head. “But let me make one thing perfectly clear, I always win, and you? You’re just another pawn in my game. One that I will use as I see fit… until I grow tired of our little diversion.”

With that, she crashed her lips against yours once more, kissing you with a ferocity that demanded surrender, obedience and complete submission. It was a kiss that left no room for doubt, a kiss that promised pleasure, and pain, in equal measure.

To her surprise, you lifted her up, making her gasp, as you carried her towards the living room. She clung to you instinctively, her arms wrapping around your neck as you navigated the dark hallways. Her heart raced in her chest, a thrill of fear and exhilaration coursing through her veins. You sat down on the plush sofa, settling her on your lap. Before she could protest or demand an explanation, your lips were on her neck, trailing hot kisses along her sensitive skin. Her eyes fluttered shut, a shudder running through her body at the intimate contact. She knew she should stop this, push you away, and reassert control. But the feeling of your hands on her body, your lips on her skin, was intoxicating in a way she hadn’t expected. A small, traitorous part of her wanted to surrender, to give into the pleasure that promised to consume her utterly.

As if sensing her momentary weakness, you slipped a hand beneath the hem of her shirt. Your fingers splayed against the flat, toned plane of her stomach, tracing the lines and curves of her abs with a curious, almost worshipful touch. Her breath caught in her throat, a gasp escaping her lips as your fingers crept higher, skimming the underside of her breasts. Anger and indignation warred with a sudden, fierce arousal inside her, leaving her torn between wanting to scream at you to stop and wanting to beg you for more.

But, before she could formulate a coherent thought or response, your mouth found its way to the sensitive spot just below her ear. You sucked hard, your teeth grazing her skin before soothing it with the slick slide of your tongue. The dual sensations sent a bolt of liquid heat straight to Rose’s core, and to her shock, she found herself arching into your touch, craving more.

As she arches into your touch, your hand moves onto her bra covered breasts, playing with her breasts through her bra. “Tell me… tell me what you want, what you need…” You felt her shudder as your fingers played with her breasts, a jolt of electricity seemingly coursing through her body at your touch, finding herself arching to your hand, silently begging for more.

However, at your command, your low, urgent demand to tell you what she wanted, what she needed… Rose hesitated. The words stuck in her throat, a lifetime of ingrained propriety and composure warring with the sudden, desperate hunger he had awakened in her. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, biting down hard as she struggled to find the right words. When she finally spoke, her voice was a husky whisper, thick with a confusing tangle of emotions she dared not name.

“I… I need…” She paused, swallowing hard against the lump of trepidation that had risen to choke her. THen, with a sudden burst of courage she didn’t know she possessed, Rose whispered, “I need you, Lee Y/n. I need to feel you, all of you. No more games, no more holding back. I want you to take me… make me yours.”

Hearing her words, you immediately put her on the sofa before you stand up, taking off your top in the process. Rose’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes wide with shock and a sudden, desperate arousal as you revealed your lean, muscular expanse of your chest and abdomen.

Before she could react, you had knelt before her, your strong hands gripping her thighs with a possessive, almost punishing grip. Rose gasped, her back arching off the sofa cushion as your lips found the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, your mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the path of her bare flesh. She knew she should push you away, should demand that you cease this brazen assault on her senses. As your lips crept higher, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin just above her knee, she found herself tangling her fingers in your hair, holding you to her as if you were a lifeline.

“Give me a good reason why I should make you mine.” You lift yourself from her thighs, stopping the kisses and tongue play on her sensitive skin.

“Because…” she began, her voice a ragged whisper, “Because I’m not some meek, subservient wife who will simply accept a half-lived existence. I’m Rose fucking Park, and I demand to be cherished, to be desired, to be worshipped in every way imaginable.” She then leaned forward, her face mere inches from your own as she whispered, “Make me yours, Lee Y/n. Show me that I’m worth more than a mere business arrangement. Prove to me that you can be the man I need you to be. The man I deserve.”

Hearing her words, you smirked and let out a chuckle before you got up and sat down on the empty space of the sofa, next to her. “I’ll let you lead the way, for now.”

Her eyes flashed with a triumphant, almost predatory gleam. A slow, wicked smile curved her lips as she rose gracefully to her feet, standing over you with a look of utter, contemptuous amusement. She took a step back, admiring the sight of you sitting there, waiting for her command. It was a heady feeling, knowing that she held the power now, that he had given it to her, willingly.

Rose reached for the hem of her shirt, slowly peeling it up and off her body. She let it drop to the floor, leaving her standing before you in nothing but her lacy black bra and a tiny scrap of black lace that barely covered her pussy. She could see the hunger in your eyes as you raked your gaze over her near-naked form, the way your chest rose and fell with each labored breath. It pleased her to know that she could affect you, that she held the reins of your passion. She then hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, slowly sliding them down over the curve of her hips, the length of her thighs, until she could kick them away with a dainty turn of her ankle. Now, standing bare and exposed before you, she looked down at you with a look of utter, imperious command in her eyes.

“On your knees.” She ordered, her voice a low, authoritative purr. You followed her words, keeping intense eye contact with her as you kneeled before her. “If you want me to lead the way… then worship me, Lee Y/n. Show me the depths of your desire, the extent of your devotion.” She then stepped closer, standing just out of reach as she waited for your obedience, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Prove to me that you’re worthy of being the one to claim me… to make me yours.”

You wasted no time, kneeling up to pull her body onto you. You stuck your tongue on her pussy, licking them aggressively as you start eating her pussy, delving into the slick, heated folds of her most intimate flesh.

She cried out, a sound of shock and pleasure mingling in a way that spoke to the intensity of the sensation. Her fingers flew to your hair, gripping and tugging at the short strands as you ate at her with a voracity that left her breathless. Holy fuck, your mouth was everywhere, your tongue delving deep and stroking the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her sex. You licked and suckled at her clit with a single-minded focus that spoke to your determination to bring her to the pinnacle of ecstasy. Not long after, you shifted her, pushing her against the sofa, letting her sit on the sofa, whilst you still ate her out.

Her head fell back against the sofa cushions, her body writhing beneath the onslaught of pleasure. She could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, the heat building to an almost unbearable level as you continued your relentless assault. She rocked her hips aggressively against your face, grinding against your mouth and tongue as if seeking the very air she needed to survive. A litany of curses and pleas spilled from her lips, prayer and profanity twisting together and the pleasure crested and crashed over her again and again.

“Fuck Lee Y/n!” She gasped out, her voice a ragged, desperate keen. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare fucking stop! I’m so close, so fucking close…”

“Then just cum for me baby. Cum for your master.”

Rose’s body went rigid, her back arching almost painfully as your words sent her hurtling over the edge. A scream of pure, unadulterated ecstasy tore from her throat, her inner walls clenching and fluttering wildly around your plundering tongue.

“AAHHHH!!! FUCK YES!!! I’M CUMMING BABY FUCKKK!!!!” She screamed, her voice echoing off the living room walls. Rose’s body shuddered and convulsed, wave after wave of mind-numbing bliss crashing over her like a tidal wave. You didn’t let up, your mouth and tongue working in tandem to prolong her orgasm. You continued to lick and suck her sensitive flesh, coaxing out every last drop of pleasure from her quivering body.

Rose’s fingers dug into your scalp, nails raking across your skin as she held you in place, not wanting this moment to end. She rode out the aftershocks, her hips rocking and grinding against your face in a desperate bid for more. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Rose collapsed back against the sofa, her chest heaving and her skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. She started down at you, her eyes glazed and unfocused as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Holy shit…” she panted, her voice hoarse and ragged. “That was… fuck, that was incredible.”

After feeling the releasing grip of hers, I got up and got on her, kissing her lips passionately. “Fuck u get me so hard…. Should I use condoms?”

Rose’s eyes flashed open, a sharp glare that cut through the post-orgasmic haze. She stared at you as if you had grown a second head, her expression a mix of shock, outrage and a perverse amusement. She then grabbed you by the chin, her nails digging into the sensitive skin as she forced you to meet her gaze. When she spoke, her voice was a low, dangerous purr that sent a chill down his spine.

“Use a condom?” She repeated, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Oh, I don’t think so, Lee Y/n. You don’t get to concern yourself with such pedestrian worries... not with me."

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I want to feel every inch of you, every throbbing, pulsing inch. I want to feel you come inside me, filling me up until there's no doubt that you've claimed me, body and soul."

She nipped at your earlobe, her teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before soothing it with a slow, deliberate lick. "So forget about the condoms”, she commanded, her voice a seductive hiss. “Forget about everything except the need to make me yours. Because I want you, Lee Jaehyun... all of you. No holds barred, no restrictions. Just you and me, lost in a sea of pure, unadulterated lust."

With that, she crashed her lips against yours in a bruising, demanding kiss. She poured all of her hunger, her desire, her utter, relentless need into that kiss, leaving no room for doubt or hesitation.

When she finally pulled back, a wicked, wicked smile curved her lips, and her eyes glinted with a dangerous, predatory light. "Now," she purred, "take me. Claim me. Make me yours in every way imaginable."

Rosé let out a sharp gasp followed by a muffled moan as your palm cracked against her sensitive clit, the sudden sting sending a jolt of electrifying sensation through her core. Before she could even begin to process the unexpected stimulus, you grabbed her hips, pulling her down and impaling her on your thick, hard length in one swift, powerful thrust.

Her eyes flew wide, a silent scream catching in her throat as it was swallowed up by your demanding kisses. Your tongue plundered her mouth, stroking along her own and coaxing her to engage in a erotic dance that left her breathless and wanting.

Then, just as suddenly, you were laying her down on the sofa cushions, your body blanketing her own as you began to move within her. Each slow, deep thrust sent a pulse of liquid heat radiating outwards from the point where they were so intimately joined, until her entire body felt as if it were glowing with the force of your possession.

She could feel every inch of you, every thick, throbbing inch of your hard cock as it stretched and filled her so completely. It was almost too much, almost painfully intense, but she found herself arching into each thrust, silently begging for even more.

Her nails raked down the muscles of your back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. She could feel the power in your body as you loved her, the raw, primal strength that spoke to the depth of his desire. It thrilled and terrified her in equal measure, a heady combination that left her craving the very air she needed to survive.

As if sensing her desperate need, your hands found her clit once more. You stroked and circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, your fingertips skating along the slick, swollen flesh until you had her writhing beneath you, her hips bucking and rolling with a mind of their own.

Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in her core, the tension building to a fever pitch as you thrust harder and faster, driving into her again and again with a relentless, almost punishing rhythm. It was everything she had ever wanted, everything she had ever dreamed of - and so much more.

And then, just as she teetered on the brink of another shattering climax, you captured her mouth once more. You kissed her with a hunger that spoke to the very depths of your soul, a passion that consumed her utterly, body and mind.

With a final, brutal thrust, you buried yourself to the hilt inside her. Your body went rigid against her own, your hips pressing flush against her as a low, guttural groan spilled from his throat. And as your hot, thick seed spilled into her, painting her womb with its essence, Rosé knew that she was truly, irrevocably yours - now and for all eternity.

#kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #kpop smut #male reader #kpop imagines #blackpink #blackpink smut #rose #rose blackpink #roseanne park #rose smut

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 days ago

Text

Yandere Eldritch Ex-Husband ///////

Your now ex-husband is incredibly surprised when the authorities are dispatched to your new house when he enters. Thinking nothing of it he broke the knob of your new home, thinking after all that time talking with the judge over some foreign topic you’d both be settling into the new place. Turns out this ‘divorce’-thing and ‘restraining order’-stuff meant something after all. That he couldn’t be with you and the baby.

“Wait, the dee - force means I don’t get to come home? What–?”

“Sir, if you give me trouble it’ll only hurt your chances of seeing your kid more.”

“Wait I can’t see him? (Y/n)! (Y/n)-honey, please!”

“Sir, please put your hands behind your back.”

The only reason he doesn’t suck their brains out through their noses+ fight more is because he’s so devastated as he thinks about how in the dark about cruel-human-practices. Only now does it register that when you were oh-so cutely crying about leaving, you weren’t talking about a late night run to the store to satisfy your cravings. That the word he had dismissed as something you wanted to buy was actually an action. An action that meant he’d be deprived of the most important person in his life.

“Hello?”

“......I did not understand before….but I understand now.”

“Kilton? You know a restraining order extends to calls, right?”

“IM nOt LetTInG yOu go—”

Click.

“Creep.”

As he reluctantly uses the resources proposed to him, to argue for custody he has time to think about when you first mentioned the word. But the more he replays those heavenly moments with you he realizes how often your brow was scrunched and a vein was popping from that kissable forehead. It’s then that your ex-husband begins to realize just how little he was actually listening to you. Ashamed, he’s realized that while he finds all your actions absolutely irresistible it didn’t mean you were happy. And he really had no one to blame but himself.

“Hello this is Kilton (L/n) if you have a message leave it at the tone….beep.”

“Hey I hope I got the right number but I need your help with the baby….there’s stuff going on that I have no idea how to deal with. I won’t call the police or tell anyone..I just need….some help. And you're the only one who can give it to me.”

“OF COURSE i’LL BE RIGht oVER!”

“Wait you never set up your voicemai—”

When you left your husband, you were tired of being so confused all the time. Your husband, your best friend was keeping you in the dark for a long time now. Starting from the occasionally odd behavior you’d witness him do, that he’d brush off as if it were nothing. Like the doors in the house that have begun to open to alternate dimensions (that’s what you believe but your husband will not explain in any way) ignoring your concerns and calling you being ‘silly.’ It was annoying but you hadn’t died yet so it wasn’t that bad…until you got pregnant.

“How can this be?”

“Yippee I told you, that one took!”

“No, I literally can’t.”

“Of course, you can babe, you already are look at your little bump.”

“No like I literally can’t this is unbelievable.”

Whether you physically can and were vigilant in prevention or you physically should not be able to conceive matters not. You are pregnant. Or you were. And while dealing with the intense hormones and birthing pains and gravity-defying phenomena happening in your home, your ex-husband would explain nothing. Doing nothing but smile wistfully at you while you demanded to know why the fridge was inching closer every time you turned the corner. Any sane person could only handle so much of his pretend assurances that you were just losing your mind.

But hindsight 20/20 you should’ve known you couldn’t get rid of your eldritch ex-husband with your eldritch baby.

“Hey you left the door unlocked, so I let myself in. Babe, you can’t be doing that it’s really unsa–the furniture doesn’t look at all like it did before.”

“Of course it doesn’t! Because your son has decided to rearrange it with his humming!”

“That’s not a hum, Love. He’s singing a hymn of Utter Chaos–”

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT IS MAKE HIM STOP.”

As you suspected the root of all the inexplicable happenings in your life were because of your ex-husband and by extension the little bundle that has been doing all sorts of things a normal baby shouldn’t. Like humming the ‘utter chaos song’ or making supplies float over to you while changing him or how at the end of his bath the water turns red and evaporates in an echo of screams. It’s just a little alarming.

“Where is the baby?”

“In that other dimension.”

“Excuse me?”

“Isn’t that something familiar to you? Every now and then he just goes into this other dimension that let’s his laugh morph the walls a little.”

“Oh my. That’s new for me too.”

Surprisingly despite your husband’s now-confirmed-eldritch-heritage he’s not an exact expert on everything his son does. Apparently no one from his world/dimension/atternate plane of existence does everything your son does and is blissfully writing off as something from your side of the family. He’ll shrug and use the opportunity to listen to you list the observations you’ve made about your darling offspring and maybe compliment you on your vigilance as a new unfortunately single parent. Don’t worry it won’t be that way for long!+

“So the blood water thing. It happens whenever he interacts with water.”

“Oh I know that one it’s an old habit of mine, for storing water for later!”

“What about the metal-eating?”

“Metal eating? With no teeth? Beats me must have gotten a taste from all those utensils you’re so fond of. By the way parenthood looks good on you have I told you that?”

As he becomes more of a constant presence in your home, there's a startling change in your baby boy’s behavior. It doesn’t stop but it’s a lot less destructive. Finally, you could have the delivery crew enter the yard without them being swallowed by the portal to your son’s crib. Finally, you can afford to have a couple-hour meet and greet with your family without anyone inexplicably sprouting horns. So reluctantly you let him back into your life with very specific conditions.

“You can’t stay the night.”

“Aww but aren’t you worried about me going home in the dark?”

“I know you’re not just some helpless human, so no. Second rule no kissing or lovey dovey things with me.”

“Got it. So vague I can work with that.”

“And finally–”

“EEEKK! WHAT DID HE DO TO MY BABY!?”

“Oh guess someone’s up from their nap.”

“I’ll distract her with a ring to her doorbell, you change back the dog.”

“As always, please try to turn down her invites for dinner this time. I don’t think I can spare her if she upsets him again.”

“No promises!”

Kilton realizes that what he has with you doesn’t mean he’s equally let back into your life, especially since so many other couples ailed by this (dee)force co-parent more or less the same so he’s got his work cut out for him. He’ll have to finally get over his listening issue while worming his way back into your heart! And don’t worry he definitely will!

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postracehair · 3 days ago

Text

fracture

max verstappen x reader | 3.5k

max breaks his wrist during the first week of the off-season.

cw: max breaks his arm, r is a bit rattled, some blood, a naked shower, intimacy, mentions of sex

a/n: c'mon. you know he'd be so annoying. good thing we love him. [i wrote this before the season ended and then...never posted it. so, here, have it before we start all this shit over again in a few weeks.]

You are not there when it happens.

You're asleep, actually, curled up on Max's couch with the cats while he enjoys the first week of the off-season. The celebrations have ended and there is a great deal of work to be done in the next few months, but everyone gets a little bit of respite.

Vacation will come after the holidays. That's the plan, anyway. The last few days have seen you in Monaco, mostly inside Max's place. Just spending time together, relaxing, watching movies, rumpling his sheets. Today, though, he and Danny decided to go on a world-class-athlete-level bike ride.

Which is why you're on the couch. They've been gone all day and you don't expect Max to get home until later. You ran errands, cleaned a little, and then took an afternoon nap.

As you rouse from it, you fumble for your phone to check the time. The screen lights up and you're greeted with --

35 texts. 4 missed calls.

"What the hell?" you mutter, sitting up and opening everything.

DR: sorry for the three calls don't freak out but i think max broke his arm

DR: he says you're probably napping but i'm going to document this for when you wake up

DR: he's fine but yeah that shit is fucked

DR: he says not to tell you he fell off his bike but he fell off his bike

DR: he braked for some animal in the road and went over his handlebars

DR: oh he also scraped his face but he's still pretty, don't worry

DR: his palms are fucked though which is why he's not texting you

DR: we're on the way to the hospital, btw

DR: you're gonna be so pissed when you wake up

It goes on like that. Daniel, to his credit, has given you a play-by-play of the whole situation. You've only been asleep for about an hour and based on the time stamps this started right after you fell asleep.

You get up as you read, grabbing your things and trying to find your shoes as you read. You need to -- you need to go and be wherever they are. You need to help. Heart racing, chest tight, you need to be near Max as soon as possible, even though Danny said he's okay. If this was you, Max would already be there. God, why did you take a nap?

According to the texts, they got to the hospital and he was seen immedietly, x-rayed, and bandaged up. Broken right wrist, Danny had said. He's pissed more than anything.

You're about to call him back when your phone rings in your hands.

"Danny," you say as soon as you accept it.

"Oh, thank fuck," Daniel exclaims. "I thought I was going to have to surprise you in person with the whole thing."

"I'm about to leave, just give me 15 minutes to get there--"

"No, no, no," he interrupts you. "He just got discharged. I'm bringing him home."

You stop in your tracks, one foot shoved halfway into your sneaker. "Really?"

"Yeah, we'll be there in like, 20 minutes?" You can hear Max saying something in the background. "He wants to talk to you," Danny sighs. "Mate, you'll see her soon--"

He's cut off and there's some muffled noises and then Max is saying your name.

"I'm fine," he says. "I only made him tell you so it wasn't a surprise when I came home."

"Max," you sigh, shoulders creeping away from your ears at the sound of his voice. "I'm so sorry, I was asleep!"

He laughs. You feel a bit weepy, which is both an overreaction and cathartic. "Good," he says. "The whole experience has been a pain in the ass."

"You're coming home now? Are you in pain?"

"Eh," he says, dragging out the sound. "They gave me something while they set it so I don't feel it much. Daniel says we'll be home soon. Oh, hold on --" There is some muttering, Danny's voice in the background. "Okay, I'm going to give you back. See you soon, liefje."

"Okay," you say softly.

"Be there in a flash!" Danny says brightly. "Seriously, don't worry."

You hang up and just stand in the hallway, at a loss. Something bad happened to Max and you weren't there. It feels wrong. Not that he's in poor hands with Danny -- quite the opposite. He's probably the only person aside from yourself that you'd want there for Max in a crisis. But, god. You wish you had been there.

The cats weave around your ankles as you pace, waiting for Danny to call or for the door to open or, anything at all to happen. Your mind is running a million miles a minute. Objectively, it's the best time for Max to break something. There isn't even a car for him to test right now and he had at least another week of time off before needing to go back to Milton Keynes. This might throw a wrench in your holiday plans but you couldn't care less about that. How long will he be in a cast? You assume he's in a cast. What kind of help will he need? Will you be enough to provide it? What if he --

Noises in the hall make you freeze and then you hear Danny's voice. You bolt to the door, unlatching the locks and pulling it open. You're greeted with the sight of the two of them -- Danny looking down at Max's keys in his hands, both of their backpacks on his back. They've both changed out of whatever ridiculous bike outfit they must have been wearing for the ride, but you devote your attention to your boyfriend.

You can see the bandages on Max's knees and forearms where he must have scraped himself up on the road. His wrist -- it's in a black cast that runs the length of his forearm. He cradles it to his chest in a sling they must have given him and then you make your way to his face. A few scratches along one cheek, hair a mess, mouth drawn into a frown. A frown that relaxes slightly when you meet his gaze. Your eyes well with tears.

"Max," you breathe. He steps in front of Danny and meets you in the doorway, his cast-free hand cupping your face through the bandages on his palm.

"I'm fine," he says. "You're looking at me like I'm in a coma."

"Sorry," you whisper. "I just --"

He tugs you to him gently, pressing your face into his neck and rubbing your back. You try to be careful of his arm as you breathe deep and will yourself not to actually lose it.

"Guys, can we at least go inside?" Danny asks.

Max huffs and you pull away. He drags his thumb under both of your eyes but doesn't comment on the dampness he finds there. "Inside, liefje."

Danny drops Max's stuff and passes along the documents from the hospital. He's quite the personality but he's all business when he needs to be. "Pain killers in his bag. Call me if you need anything, guys."

You step away from Max long enough to throw your arms around Danny. "Thank you," you whisper. "For looking after him." For calling. For bringing him back to me. For doing what I should have been there for.

He chuckles. "Alright," he says. "Max should break something more often."

Once Danny leaves, it's just the two of you. Max has settled on the couch, head leaning back into the cushions.

"Come sit with me," Max calls. "God, I forgot how much I hate hospitals."

His eyes are closed and he holds his arm gingerly. It's not the first time you've seen him injured -- you've been at his side in the medical tent before after watching him careen into a wall at 190mph. And yet, right now, you're still so upset.

You settle into the cushions on his left side and just watch him.

"I'm sorry," you say again. Max's eyes open. "I can't believe I was asleep when Danny called."

Max shakes his head. "What would you have done?"

"I could have come to get you and take you to the hospital, or just met you there, or--"

He puts his hand on your knee. "Come on," he says. "Don't be silly."

How do you explain it to him? How do you tell him that something happening to him feels like it happened to you? That not being there feels like a personal failing?

"Will you tell me what happened?"

He sighs and you pull his palm from your leg to hold it in your hands.

"It's stupid," he grimaces. "You don't need the details."

"Max."

He folds. Other people in his life have called this your superpower -- Max's will is iron clad. It is very difficult to get him to do something he does not want to do. But one word from you, one soft look, one gentle touch, and he often relents. It's like you can peel back that layer of him that has hardened out of necessity. To protect himself and his heart, to make sure he's taken seriously, to stop things from hurting.

It's like you remind him that it's okay to feel, even when it's hard.

"Daniel summed it up," he grumbles. "We were biking down a hill outside the city and something ran out into the road in front of me. I stopped. Or tried to, at least." He mimes squeezing the breaks, fingers curling in towards his bandaged palms. You stroke his unbroken wrist with your thumb.

"And you went over," you finish.

"And I went over. Got my knees, my forearms, my hands. My wrist, obviously. Just landed badly."

You reach for his face ever so gently, dragging the pad of your thumb over the shallow scrapes on his chin, his cheek. He allows it, knowing that you need to touch him to be sure he's okay. Whenever he has a crash on track you have trouble letting him out of your sight for hours. You just need to look at him, feel him warm and alive under your hands.

"I'm going to write a letter to your helmet manufacturer," you say, not entirely kidding. You slide your hand over his temple and into his hair. It's dirty, you can feel it, but you cradle his skull all the same. "Thank them."

He laughs once, amused with your sincerity. "I need to shower," he says. "But I can't get this wet." You finally direct your attention to his broken wrist, the entirety of his forearm and hand encased in the cast under the sling.

"Does it hurt?" you ask again. Max would tell anyone else off for badgering him so, but he keeps his face soft and reassures you.

"It's strange," he says. "I'm sure I'll feel it later."

"Did it hurt?" you whisper. "When you broke it?"

You know that Max has felt a great deal of pain in his life. His day job requires it -- physical, mental, emotional. He knows how to handle it and get over it. But he's also honest with you, always.

He wrinkles his nose. "It wasn't nice," he confesses. "I knew right away."

You grimace. In the silence, you match your breaths to his and just sit together for a little while.

And then Max's stomach growls.

"Whoops," he says, grinning crookedly. Still an athlete, still a boy with a fast metabolism. You can't help but laugh.

"How about this," you begin, unfolding yourself from the couch and standing in front of him, hands on your hips. Max looks up at you like you're the best thing he's ever seen. "I order some food and then we get you showered while we wait for it. Let the scrapes breathe and keep your cast dry, then we eat and watch a movie and go to bed. Okay?"

"We get me showered?" He sounds skeptical.

"You think you can wash your hair on your own?"

He smirks. "I can do a lot with one hand."

You roll your eyes. "So you're turning down an opportunity to shower with me, is what I'm hearing."

Max gets himself off the couch and rests his palm on your hip. "No," he says softly. "I'm not that stupid."

He kisses you lightly and heads for the bathroom.

"I guess we can wrap it in a plastic bag, or something?" you call after him. It takes a few minutes of opening and closing cabinets for you to find one. You put in a delivery order and make your way to the bathroom. Max has already turned on the shower and you find him shirtless and peeling off his bandages in in front of the mirror.

"Let me do that." He doesn't put up much of a fight, not even wincing when the tape pull at his skin. You see the gashes on his forearm, the raw skin of his palms. "Arm, please." The plastic bag goes around his cast and you tie it at his elbow.

"You planning to wash my hair while wearing your clothes?" Max asks with a straight face.

You stare at him, trying to seem unimpressed. He breaks first, mouth pulling up at one corner before he shucks off his soft shorts and briefs in one go. He pecks you on the cheek and gets in the shower, still smirking at you through the glass door.

"Alright, alright," you mutter. "So dramatic."

You feel Max's eyes on you as you undress, leaving your clothes on a pile on the floor.

The shower is unnecessarily big but Max does not give you much space. The hot spray is at his back and he keeps his plastic bag-clad arm mostly out of the way.

"Feel good?" you ask. Max sighs but nods. You'll bet he's aching but hasn't admitted it. He turns to the side so you can catch some of the spray, too, fighting off the chill outside the warm water.

"I might fall asleep in here," he mutters.

"That'll be the painkillers, darling," you tell him. "C'mon, get your hair wet."

Max tips his head back. You readjust so that you can card your hands through it. You shampoo him gently, taking your time and massaging his scalp. It's a miracle he stays on his feet, but he does. You hum as you work and Max's breaths get deeper, slower.

"Head back," you say softly. He obeys. You do the same with some of your conditioner because you know he likes how it smells.

This shower feels more intimate than the countless hours you've spend in his bed, tangled up in one another. He's been inside you and yet this feels more vulnerable. He's totally ceding control, trusting you to take care of him. You're naked, slick bodies brushing, always touching whether it's your hands in his hair or Max's own fingers reaching for your skin just to feel.

One time, when you were sick, you couldn't muster the energy to take a shower. Max ran you a bath and washed your hair for you, talking all the while because you asked to hear his voice. It's obvious that you'd do the same for him, as you're doing now. It's just how you love each other -- all the way, all the time. When it's easy and when it's hard.

"Danny was right," Max says, words slurring half from bliss and half the fatigue of the day catching up to him. "I should break bones more often."

You finish rinsing him and just stand there in the spray for a few moments.

"Please, no," you groan, brushing wet strands back from his forehead. "If you want me to wash your hair I will, Max. You don't need to break anything."

His eyes flutter open and find yours. He smiles lazily and you turn off the shower.

"If you say so," he says. "Can we take this off, now?"

Bag removed, skin patted dry, comifes on. The food comes when you're settling Max on the couch with a pillow for his arm. In all likelihood he'll manage a few bites of take out and fall asleep 15 minutes into the movie. But he needs the rest, you think. And besides, he'll have you to watch over him.

It becomes clear remarkably quickly that Max is an awful patient. You sort of knew this -- he's been sick a few times when you're around, but you figured that was just man-disease. Whining, refusing to sit still. This is 10x worse. He won't let you do anything for him until he's proven that he can't do it himself. You consider locking him in your bedroom to keep him from trying to do things he shouldn't do.

Max just wasn't made to sit still.

But you can empathize -- it's frustrating to not be able to do any of the things he really likes to do. Drive, use his sim, even play regular video games. It's a lot of movies and long walks and leg days with his trainer.

And then there's the way he just won't ask for help. That's a Max Verstappen original and you know it gets worse when he's frustrated. You do it too -- everyone does. But Max wants to do everything himself, wants to prove that he can.

You try to sit back and let him work it out. About a week after he comes home with his arm in a cast, he calls your name. You're in the kitchen, staring into the open fridge and wondering if you should order more groceries or just go to the shops yourself.

"You okay?" you call back. "Where are you?"

"Bathroom,"he shouts.

Ah, you think. Here we go.

He hasn't shaved yet. You've always loved when he keeps his facial hair a little longer. You love the feel of it on your skin and how it lightens along with his hair when you're on holiday somewhere nice. It's more likely that he keep it long in the off-season. Hot races are a nightmare with a beard, he's said. It itches like mad.

"Coming," you call.

Sure enough, you find him in front of the sink, razor in hand and frown firmly in place. He makes eye contact with you in the mirror and even though you can feel his annoyance from here, the set of his jaw softens.

"Do you think you could help me shave?" he asks. No lead up, no hem and haw.

"Of course, Max."

You quickly work out that sitting on the counter next to the sink while he stands between your knees works best. His broken wrist hangs at his side, the other hand resting on the counter next to your leg.

You lather him up, carefully applying the white foam of his shaving cream on his cheeks, his chin, his neck. He's got a fancy razor, one that will probably make it hard to cut him. Still, you feel the way he's basically handed you a blade and asked you to use it on him. In so many ways it's one of the most intimate things you've ever done. Even more than the showers you've had this week, just chatting and washing his hair.

"I'll be careful," you say softly.

"I know." He tilts his chin up, showing you his neck. "Go on, then."

It's quiet work. You're focusing hard and Max seems content to allow you. Stroke after stroke, rinsing the razor in the sink. You keep one hand at the base of this throat as the other works, gliding it over his skin. Cheeks, jaw, upper lip. Chin, neck.

"I like your beard, you know," you say when you're almost done. He waits until you're rinsing the razor again to reply.

"I do," he says, smirking. "You aren't quiet about it."

The last patch comes off as easily as the rest and you grab a damp towel to clean the rest of the shaving cream. Max appears to have relaxed enough to become pliant, leaning into your touch as you finish. He lets you rub moisturizer into his cheeks, eyes fluttering closed. His hand ends up on your leg, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thigh.

"Cheeky," you mutter. He smiles, boyish and easy. You take your time, pleased that he's letting you, but also because you could touch him forever. "Schatje," you whisper, trying to make it sound like it does from his lips. "All done."

Max doesn't move. You frame his face with your hands and lean in until your lips touch. You feel his smile against yours, but he dutifully tilts his head to deepen the kiss. His freshly shaved skin is so soft. You've kissed thousands of times by now, but you can never get enough of him. The way he responds to your every move, meeting your pressure with some of his own. Your tongue with his, swallowing your moans and giving you his own like a gift.

It's Max who pulls away, dragging his lips over your cheek.

"Dankje," he whispers. It means more than that, you know. From Max, it means thank you for dealing with me, for taking care of me, for loving me.

He doesn't think any of that is easy for you. But he's wrong. It's the easiest thing in the world.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #mv33 x reader #mv33 #f1 fanfic #my writing #fic: fracture

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no-144444 · 2 days ago

Text

confronting- o.piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! Skyf1interviewer! reader

summary: a confrontation in a hotel room doesn't go so well thanks to Franco's loud mouth...

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

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Entertaining the idea of dating Oscar when you knew you’d be gone at the end of the season wasn’t fair. He deserved someone who’d be there for every race, be there for him. You weren’t that person. You weren’t the person anyone should want, you just weren’t like that.

Qatar rolled around and Oscar won the Sprint, and he was P3 in the race. You were meant to do the interviews. He knew that. That’s why he frowned when he was met with Jenson’s face at the end of the race.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, not holding the microphone up to his mouth.

Jenson smirked. “Missing her?”

Oscar nodded.

“She’s with Franco, he was pretty upset after the crash.”

“Oh,” he nodded, and the interview began.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

It’s not like you were trying to avoid him, it was just… easier that way. And Franco really was quite shaken after the crash, so that part wasn’t a lie either. You just didn’t want to deal with all of the shit the media and people online would give the two of you. You just wanted a nice, clean break from the world of F1, and the people online who shipped you and Oscar would never let that happen. It was upsetting, because he really was a good friend to you, and you thought you were a good friend to him. Maybe it could’ve been something else, if things were different. You sat with Franco, calming him down since he was pretty upset that his second last race of the season was fucked by a silly turn-one incident.

“What’s going on with you and that model?” you asked. He chuckled.

“Oh my, you saw it too? It’s so embarrassing,” he sighed. “Even my mother has been asking me about it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you laughed at his reaction. “We can talk about anything you want.”

“What’s going on with you and Oscar?” he smirked and your face fell slightly.

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “We’re friends.”

“Friends?” he pried. “You two seem like more than ‘friends’ to me.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’re not. We’re just friends,” you assured him.

Franco sat up, leaning closer to you. He was so close his breath was on your cheek, his eyes staring longingly into yours. You knew what he was doing. “So he wouldn’t mind it if someone kissed you, no?”

You laughed, pushing him back down to his previous position of lying down. “Stop being weird. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He shouldn’t care anyway.”

“Let’s test that,” Franco challenged. “Kiss me in front of him, and then we’ll know. I’ll ask Lando to tell me about it, they’re close, right?”

You sighed, something about it felt a little bit… manipulative. And it’s not like you were looking for Oscar to like you back, he didn’t. That’s what he’d said the last time, it was only a joke, a prank, a mistake. Which was fine with you, of course. It made sense. You couldn’t be there for him while you were supposed to be there for someone else. Someone else on his team.

Ok, so maybe the move to Indycar isn’t just about Sky starting to cover it. Maybe, they need more European fans, and you have to go over there and sell it to them with a relationship with Pato O’Ward. Maybe McLaren is paying you a lot of money to do that.

Just maybe though.

“I can’t do that Franco,” you explained. “It’s not fair. And anyways, I’m kind of… seeing someone.”

“Is it Oscar?!” he questioned. You shook your head. “Lando? Lance? Zhou? Yuki? Who?” “He’s not in F1!” you giggled, watching as Franco freaked out.

“Who is he?! You have to tell me right now!” he begged, taking your hands.

“He’s in Indycar, that’s all I’ll tell you,” you smirked and his jaw dropped.

“Is that why you’re leaving?!” he almost shouted.

“No! Sky really is just branching out, but yes, it is nice that I’ll actually be able to watch his races,” you chuckled.

“I’ll miss you,” he frowned.

“I’ll miss you too,” you chuckled, pulling him in for a hug. “Now, I have to go do my post-race duties, so I’ll see you in Abu Dhabi, alright?”

He frowned even deeper. “Alright,” he mumbled. “I can’t believe you’re leaving me!”

You left the Williams garage with a smile on your face, very much amused by your conversation with Franco.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You pulled up to the media pen, really to meet with Jenson and Nico, your co-hosts this weekend, but they were nowhere to be seen. Regardless, you prepared yourself with the running order.

Lance, Lando, Max, Checo, Zhou, and Fernando. That’s all you had to get through before you got on a flight to Abu Dhabi the next morning. After another few minutes of waiting, Nico and Jenson showed up, acting slightly strange. They weren't really speaking to you, only with each other. It’s not like they were excluding you, just… not asking for your input. They seemed guilty too.

Lance, Lando, Max, and Checo were all fine, polite and out of there quickly. Oscar didn’t show up. Unsurprising, as you had been avoiding him. Zhou and Fernando went by in a flash, and you were back to your hotel by 2am.

When you walked into your hotel, you were not expecting to see Oscar Piastri standing outside your door.

Holy shit. You were so astronomically fucked.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned. He turned to you.

He cleared his throat. He’d been thinking of a response to that question since the second he’d started waiting outside for you. What was he doing? This was insane. His plan was to make you stay, but he was much too upset to talk rationally when he got the text from Franco about you seeing an Indycar driver. Honestly, it crushed him. He genuinely thought you’d liked him. “I wanted to… talk? Or something, just to gauge what the fuck is going on here,” he was getting heated, and you understood he was probably angry with you, and it’s not like he didn’t have a reason.

“What do you mean?” you asked, opening your hotel room door and letting him inside.

“You’re going to Indycar?” he questioned. “What the fuck?”

You gulped, hard. “Yeah?”

“Why?” he demanded. “What does Indycar have that F1 doesn’t? F1 is faster cars, faster drivers, more money, more races, more countries, more-”

“Oscar! Did it ever occur to you that this wasn’t my fucking choice?!” you shouted over him. Silence. “Indycar doesn’t have Sky coverage, but Europeans are interested in the sport and they need a known interviewer to go there and make it easier to sell it to people, and I got picked. That’s it.”

“So it has nothing to do with whatever Indycar driver you’re fucking?” he scoffed. Your face fell. Your eyes fell to the hardwood floor beneath your feet. “Yeah, I know.”

Your face soured and you looked up again, offended. Who did he think he was? He had no say in your life at all. You’d hated him for 2 years, and you had no real reason to, now you had one. “I owe you nothing Oscar. I’m an adult in a consenting relationship, and yes he’s in Indycar, is that a crime?”

“Is that why you’re going over there?” he asked, stepping closer to you. You could cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife. “Or are you running away from something here?”

“Fuck you,” you pushed him back. This wasn't the Oscar you knew. He was different, angry, mean, and rude. You owed him nothing. “Get out.”

He nodded, and left without another word.

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