#I just have my dissertation left

[sophisticatedswifts]

I passed all of my classes, yay!

[fatehbaz]

weekly navel-gazing update: this week is most consequential event in long time. keyword search: "scared" "is it ok to be scared" "beaten and tortured by the ogre"

[weisshapt]

doing very serious and professional and formal academic work here.

[ahalliance]

how do i turn qantoine’s spontaneous marriage proposal to qetoiles into evidence of his early-days fear of qfrench drifing away and keeping secrets from one another

[thawthebeez]

oikage......... if you carry the one and factor out a four... are a manifestation of the thin line between admiration and jealousy .... i've solved it....🚬

[briwates]

Words cannot describe how tired I am of studying

[sweetandglovelyart]

Hopefully going to start posting some art again soon! Sorry again that I haven’t been posting much the past couple of months, grad school has been killing me since I had a ton of things to get done this semester.

On top of just doing regular grad school stuff like working on my research and working as a teaching assistant I also had two back to back conferences to go to that were less than a week apart and I had to present a poster at both of them 🫠 and of course the main important thing I had to focus on this semester was defending my proposed topic for my dissertation. I did it last week and my committee and my advisor said I did a very nice job with it, so all the work paid off, but preparing for it was definitely both time consuming and stressful. So all of that is why I haven’t been drawing or posting much the past couple months, but the semester is over so hopefully I’ll be able to get more art done during winter break.

I’ll still have work to do over the break of course though 🫠 since I don’t have to help run classes I can focus more on my research during the break, but I’ll have a bit more free time so I’m going to try and draw and post more often. I’m finishing my Squeak Squad drawing (that is very late for the Squeak Squad anniversary 🫠) and then I need to get back to both the comic and fanfiction version of Knightfall in Dream Land. Anyway that’s just a little update on life and art stuff from me. Sorry that I keep saying I’m going to post art only to not post anything lmao, finishing the PhD is taking up most of my time and attention right now… 🫠

[fingertipsmp3]

That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did

[black-cigs]

.

[claratyler]

God im becoming a serial book un-finisher someone help me i want to absorb all of this stuff but my head can only read so much of a certain book before it jumps ship to the next interest help.

[stellamarielu]

ok so nobody asked for it, but here’s my take on a few of andrew “pope” cody’s kinks

content: nsfw, 18+, pope cody x female reader, breath play, choking, free use, somnophillia, edging (orgasm denial), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), handjob

authors note: someone could easily write a dissertation on this man, and the trauma he’s experienced in his life that has taken him to his very specific sexual disposition, but my job is to be horny on tumblr dot com so i thought it’d be fun to discuss a few of the kinks i think that man has if i talked about all of them this would be like 10k words. let’s get into it!

these are just the little made up thoughts in my brain, don’t come for me!

hypoxiphillia

you’re on top, riding him deep into the sheets with his hand at your chest.

The touch of his palm is heavy as he explores and gropes at your skin like it's the first time he's felt you in weeks.

The way he's holding you sends an instinctual desire bubbling through your veins as you grab his hand and pull it up to your neck.

The dip between his thumb and forefinger molds perfectly at your throat as you push his hand carefully against your jugular.

There’s something about his brute strength that you've always admired. Finding yourself in awe of the expanse of rippling muscle that forms beneath every surface of his body, you've always wondered what it would feel like to have him use his strength against you— to have you completely at his mercy.

But the sudden change in dynamic hits Andrew in a way he doesn't know how to process.

He's quickly yanking his hand from your neck, a bewildered look in his eyes as you immediately stop your movements.

He's still inside of you, your legs straddling his hips, but your body pausing above his.

"I'm sorry... that was- I was-" Your eyes are everywhere but on him as you whisper self consciously.

There's a wave of embarrassment pulsing at your chest making it nearly impossible to form a coherent sentence.

He's staring at you, brows furrowed, and his hand frozen mid way between your bodies where he'd snatched it from your grasp.

He can see you’re uncomfortable. A shade of humiliation pools in your eyes as he tries to piece together your desire for him to... choke you?

"You want that?" His tone is full of astonished curiosity, his gaze far from judgmental as you finally bring yourself to look him in the eyes.

Still feeling a twinge of self-consciousness turning in your stomach, you nod your head hesitantly.

A flash of uncertainty paints his features as he glances between your eyes and his hand, "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," your reply is quiet.

"I trust you."

He knows he won't actually hurt you, but the act alone is so threatening. He's never imagined inflicting violence on you, even in an entrusted manner. But the way you’re looking at him, with his dick still buried deep inside you, and your eyes wide with a spirited thrill of inquiry, he knows he could tap into the darkest parts of himself and you'd still be there on the other side to lure him back out.

He nods along with you, bringing his hand back to your throat, loosely gripping and rubbing his thumb along the carotid artery running down the side of your neck.

You pick up where you left off, rocking your hips against him at an even pace, causing his thumb to press harder. His hold on your throat tightens with every pass of your hips over his.

The restriction of oxygen to your brain shouldn't be causing your pussy to clench around him, yet you're trembling and desperately aching for more.

Andrew uses his hold on your neck to pull you down so you're almost face to face, his breath fanning over your parted lips while he thrusts up into you.

Your moans turn to breathless whimpers as they squeak through your throat.

He fucks you like that until you come. His grip on your throat playing with the oxygen traveling through your airway, letting up only when he needs to, and making sure you stay in the perfect state of almost sedated pleasure.

somnophillia

Having your body next to him in bed every night was a luxury Andrew never thought he'd grow used to.

The warmth of your skin absentmindedly touching his, the weight of your body sinking into your respective side of the mattress, the blissful sighs of breath that streamed from your lips in an unconscious rhythm; all reminders that you’re right there next to him— always. He'd never known a love so unconditional, so safe.

Perhaps that's why he found himself becoming aroused by your peaceful frame when you were fast asleep, limbs splayed out over the sheets late at night, your ease of relaxation a gentle declaration of your love for him.

You were always so comfortable sleeping there, it made him want to stay up all night watching you— protecting you.

And some nights he did.

His dick stirring every time you'd rustle under the comforter, your body changing positions with a content little sigh floating from your lips as your head buries deeper into the pillow.

It doesn’t help that you seldom slept fully clothed.

Most night's you'd climb into bed in nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties, making it nearly impossible for him to keep his wandering thoughts locked away in his mind as you dozed off to sleep.

He always started off tame— his hands tracing the skin underneath your shirt, or his fingers dipping into your underwear to slowly massage your clit— always a gentle request to touch you, as if you'd give him permission.

But sometimes you did.

Even half-asleep you would moan in approval or push your hips further into his touch, begging for more.

He'd venture under the covers, hungry to taste you as he buries himself between your legs. Lapping at your core, getting it nice and messy before pushing two fingers into your entrance, getting lost with his tongue at your clit when he feels your hands pull at his hair— evidence that you're awake— but he doesn't stop.

The sleepy whines tumbling past your lips only encourage him as he claims his spot between your thighs before coming up for air, and coaxing you back to sleep while he fucks you from the side, whispering about how you were made just for him as he holds you close.

orgasm control

It's important to note, that while Pope can be quite the dom, i fully believe he’s a subby man at heart.

The first time you test the limits of his control, you have him sitting at the edge of the bed, his shoulders back, posture nearly perfect as you sit behind him, your arms coming around his torso to pay nice gentle strokes to his cock that's sitting just as straight as him.

His breath is ragged and uneven the longer you make him sit like this, the same languid passes of your palm over his length, time after time, testing the discipline of his spine as he threatens to slump forward under your touch.

You know him well. You know the cadence of his nearly silent whimpers when he's about to come, so it makes it easy to keep him right on the edge. You tease his release, one, two, three times before you feel his body start to shake.

You pump his swollen tip, milking the head that’s now a deep shade of red as he falls back against your shoulder.

"Please."

He's peering up at you with a look in his eyes you'd never seen before, so vulnerable— full of total and complete desperation.

He's begging you to let him come, surrendering all of his power in hopes that you'll give him what he wants.

You smile down at him sweetly, one of your hands coming up to play in his curls as his head writhes against your shoulder.

"Ok baby."

That word. Baby. A nickname only Smurf had called him; but now, hearing it on your lips it held an entirely different connotation.

It sounded so sweet like this— so genuine.

There was no condescending manipulation lacing the word, only true protection. You really meant it. He was yours; to take care of, to hold, to please.

And with that, ropes of hot, thick release painted his chest. The uncontrollable groans ripping through him filled the room as his body melted back into yours.

honorable mentions: breeding kink, gunplay, cum play, voyeurism, body worship, mommy kink, praise duh

[fairyhaos]

ও wen junhui as your college boyfriend

gn!reader, wc ~500 tags: requested by anon, college au, fluff, crack, est. rs., this is so cute omg i want a college bf!junhui now

he's honestly so adorable no matter what

so u can bet he's the cutest college bf ever too!!

memorised ur wholeee schedule on day one and sends YOU reminders about ur own classes every day

makes a point to eat lunch with u whenever possible

also whenever Not possible too

like he'll come SPRINTING across campus after his class just to have lunch with u if that's what it takes

sue him, he likes spending time with u :(((

he's also thee best comforter during exam season omg!!!

more than willing to stay up all night studying with you if it makes you feel better

he knows how u spiral into panic if you're left on ur own, so the closer it gets to exams, he starts showering u with even MOREE affection than before

and you know he'll be showering u with kisses once exams r FINALLY out of the way as a congratulations 😙

always leaves snacks in your bag and little post-its with cat faces drawn on them to reminder you to drink water bc he KNOWS that you're so bad at taking care of urself when you're fully locked in

"hey junnie, you know you can just text me, right?" / "are you saying you don't like my cat drawings :((" / "whAT NO I WOULD NEVER—"

also just bc he's a broke college student does nawwt mean you'll ever catch him slacking as ur bf !!

gives you little gifts whenever possible, is always showing up at ur dorm with flowers, buys you books + clothes + stationary + groceries + whatever he can to show he cares

one thing he won't do, though, is catch bugs for you.

nuh uh. that is a no-go.

who cares that he's literally 600000x bigger than the spider? the spider is still WAYY scarier than he'll EVER be so he is NOT touching that no thank you.

the two of you stay glued to one corner of the library till ur friend arrives and scares the spider off

but junhui makes up for his bug-related uselessness by being useful in literally every other area of ur life

hungry? he'll cook for you. sick? he'll take care of you. stuck on an essay? he'll help you, even if he's not studying anything remotely related to ur major

he could be in the throes of finishing his dissertation, bags under his eyes and the world on his shoulders but he'll still drop everything to help you

what can he say? he's in love with u.

and what makes it even better is he knows, he knows that you'd do the exact same thing for him too

you're so full of love, so kind and wonderful that he can't help but do all of this in return, just to try and give an ounce of that same love back

it's the least you deserve, he thinks.

(and don't tell anyone, but right after graduation, he's thinking of getting you a promise ring and taking u to visit china with him b4 u go to ur respective internships.)

(and then, further down the line... he's really hoping to marry you one day. you know. because he really does love you a lot. hopefully you love him just as much too.)

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit @dokyeomkyeom @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[1:46 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

( @bluedbliss here you go!!)

"I don't know, I just feel bad. Don't you guys?" Jaehyun asked quietly as his eyes stayed locked on fratboy!Yuta who was staring at something on his phone.

"Do you guys think she's even real?" Mark replied with a confused look on his face.

You, Yuta's so-called girlfriend. There had been so many canceled visits, unanswered calls, late night calls, and dropped FaceTime calls between you and Yuta that at this point, his brothers were concerned. Did Yuta think he needed to make up a girlfriend so they'd like him? Did he feel left out when the other girlfriends came around? They were concerned that they were making him feel left out or that he maybe even had to lie to fit in. It totally wasn't the case. They'd support Yuta with or without a girlfriend.

"So, uh, tell us about how you guys met again?" Jaehyun asked Yuta.

Yuta turned from his seat on the couch with a bright smile, "I went home two summers ago and she was starting her semester abroad. It was love at first sight."

"She's still coming today, right? I feel like you've been waiting out here for a while, bro," Johnny asked in a gentle voice.

Yuta nods, looking back at his phone to check something, "yeah, dude, of course. Her flight was a little delayed and then she had two Ubers cancel, but she's already on her way."

The brothers nod slowly. Excuses, excuses... a couple months ago you could't make it because your flight to them was cancelled. Before that it was that you were swamped with homework. The time before that your flight had emergency landed with a 14 hour layover because a woman had given birth on your flight. There were just too many coincidences for the brothers to not be concerned.

Plus, Yuta never posted you under the guise of, "well, my girlfriend is a really private person." Sure, buddy...

"Tell us about her again?" Mark asked.

"She's a totally gorgeous, way out of my league, beautiful, sunning, breathtaking, genius woman. She's the best person I've ever met. She makes me a better person. She's the smartest person on the face of this planet. My mom loves her, my sisters love her, my dad loves her. Everyone loves her!" Yuta rants excitedly.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door. Yuta let's out some kind of choked honk before he sprints to the door. The group of confused brothers move in a unit to the hall to get a good view of the front door.

"Baby girl! You're here!" Yuta cheers as he engulfs someone. They all crane their necks, but its impossible to tell who Yuta is hugging.

Then, as if some silent prayers were being answered, Yuta moves and there you stand. "She's actually real," Haechan whispers. They're all stuck in some kind of trance, in shock because, yeah— you are real and you're in their doorway.

Taeyong is the first to greet you with a warm smile and the rest follow suit. Soon enough you're all standing around in the kitchen snacking while making conversation.

Doyoung clears his throat, "so Yuta tells us you're a genius?"

You chuckle, shaking your head, "I'm not a genius, he just says-"

"She is!" Yuta interrupts, "she got into university early. She graduated early with the highest GPA in her university, and she's getting two master's degrees right now!"

"Well, I haven't gotten them yet, I'm pursuing them," you correct softly, squeezing Yuta's hand lovingly.

"Woah, two master's at once. Is that even possible?" Mark asks with his brows arched high.

"For my baby girl it is," Yuta answers with his chest puffed out in pride.

Again, you laugh softly as you correct your boyfriend, "it's definitely not common, but for my program the dual degrees are an option. My program mentors are very supportive and helpful. It keeps me busy, but I have a free weekend since my dissertation is being looked over this week, so I came to see my guy."

"Holy cow, you're so cool!" Haechan exclaims in a whisper.

"Why are you dating him? You know he's failed more classes than any of us here, right? Don't you want someone on your level?" Mark asks.

Yuta glares at Mark, but he calms when you rub his back. You turn to Mark, "I don't expect him to be perfect. Everyone has struggles when they first enter university and Yuta was far from home. There were a lot of other factors contributing to those few failed classes."

You take a sip of the water in your hand, "and I'm with Yuta because I love him, plain and simple. It's... hard living up to the expectations of all the people around me. I was so used to functioning under a crazy amount of stress in a way that isn't healthy in the slightest. Yuta just made me feel lighter. I met him and I felt like I could just... breathe. He supports me in whatever I choose. If I decided to drop my program tomorrow and move to the South Pole, I know he'd support me with no questions asked. He doesn't care about me because of my school, my academic abilities, or my brain. He cares about my being happy. That's all I can ask for."

"Bro, that's so romantic. Wait, I love you guys!" Jaehyun smiles, as he tugs you both in for a hug.

You hug him back with a watery laugh, leaning into Yuta's side when Jaehyun steps back. Yuta squeezes your side and lays his head atop yours, "and I failed three classes, Mark! Three! Bowling, massage, and judo. Don't make me look bad in front of my girl, again!"

"Judo?! You're Japanese, dude!"

"Mark! I play soccer! You don't fight people in soccer!"

You pinch his hip, "you got a red card a few games ago for tackling too much."

"That doesn't count, baby girl."

-

(gasp! gyeomsweetgyeom called it soccer!)

[humanpurposes]

Hi hiiii I couldn’t resist to not slide into your inbox and request a Christmas fic based on this prompt with a Aemond who isn’t used to his girl’s flirty behavior and gets flustered soo easily👀 you can totally ignore this if you don’t like it<3333

“Since I can’t ride in Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?” “Sorry, what?”

HI RUE ✨ Kinda put my own spin on this but I'm sure you'll love it <3

Can I Ride You Instead?

modern!Aemond x reader

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: smut, Aemond being a workaholic while his girl has needs

A/n: It's tiiiiime, happy 1st December!!

Main Masterlist // Christmas Masterlist

One more night in King’s Landing. You look out from the window at the lights in the city; street lamps; lively pubs; offices that have been abandoned until new year; and all the festive lights lining the highstreets. Conquest Street is your favourite place to be this time of year. You love the displays in the shop windows, the market in the square, the little wooden huts selling scarves and handmade jewellery, the smell of mulled wine, sugar and cinnamon, almost tangible in your nose and on your tongue. What you wouldn’t give to be there right now.

Aemond’s apartment is bleak by comparison. He doesn’t see the point in decorations, not when he’ll be spending Christmas at his family’s estate– at Dragonstone, Christmas is Alicent’s territory. Aemond’s place is clean, lit by lowlights with no bursts of colour or fairy lights and no tree.

He’s sitting at the dining table. The cold glare of his laptop shines over his face and reflects in the lenses of his glasses.

This boy never takes a break.

Term technically doesn’t end until tomorrow but everyone you know has already gone home to make the most of the break. Not Aemond. He wants to stay for as long as possible. He doesn’t talk about his family much, but you can put pieces together. You booked your own train ticket home according to his because you could think of nothing worse than leaving him alone on the run up to Christmas.

“Sit down, you’re making me anxious,” Aemond says, not looking up from the screen.

He’s been on the verge of irritation all day. You’re in the kitchen trying to make hot chocolate? Too much noise, he says. You’re at the dining table wrapping presents for your parents? Too distracting.

You take slow steps across the floor, behind his chair, draping yourself over his shoulders. He’s working on some project for an internship and simultaneously trying to get ahead on the research for his dissertation.

You love how he looks when he’s focused, the frown that means he’s utterly absorbed in what he’s doing. It’s not quite so endearing when he could be focusing on you instead.

Your arms wrap around him. He pushes his glasses up and puts a hand over yours, a featherlight touch. You want more.

“It’s getting late you say,” letting your lips ghost over his temple.

“It’s not even six.”

“You should take a break. We could order food?”

“Yeah, when I’m done with this, I just need to–”

“Aemond.”

Your arms fall away from him and he looks up at you with a slow breath. His expression is soft, his eyes slightly hooded, his lips fallen. He knows he's upset you.

“Aemond, it’s our last night together before Christmas.”

He shuts the lid of his laptop and leaves his glasses on the table. As much as you love how he looks with them on, there’s something about the unobstructed view of his face that never fails to take your breath away. Especially his eyes, one blue, one glass and made to imitate a sapphire, framed in a neat scar running down the left side of his face, an injustice of childhood.

He leans forward, snaking his hands to your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

It’s an unfair move really. Suddenly all you want to do is run your fingers through his silver hair, tilt his chin up, hold his face in your hands.

“You’re right, darling,” he says, stroking his thumbs in circles where they fall against your belly. You feel the pressure of it through the knit jumper you wear. “Let’s go out. Pub? Restaurant? What’s the market thing on Conquest Street, didn’t you mention that a while ago?”

“It’s a bit late to go out now, I’d have to get ready.”

“We’ll stay in and watch a Christmas movie then, yeah?”

“I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for something festive.”

He makes a quick face. Not that long ago you’d tried to get him to watch The Muppet Christmas Carol, and he was far from impressed. What horrors will you have in store for him next? “Whatever you want. I want whatever you want.”

You coax him to the sofa, big and plush and expensive. Aemond throws a blanket over the two of you and with a few taps of his phone arranges the food. Without much deliberation you put on Love Actually, meeting Aemond’s eye with a wide grin.

He hides his face in his hands but survives the ordeal.

By the time the credits are rolling it’s not particularly late, but you’re dreading the morning. You’ll have to wake up early, pack a bag, then you and Aemond will go to the train station together and go your separate ways until the new year. A whole two weeks apart.

You cozy up to him, breathe in the smell of his aftershave.

“What now, another film?” He asks, trying to find the remote.

Another idea pops into your head. “We could do something else?”

Aemond catches your eye, trying not to smile. “Now let me think, what else could we possibly do, hmm?” He’s awful at playing coy and has been since the moment you met him. He’s too observant, too intent on the details to play dumb.

“Well,” you say, tracing fingertips along the material of his sweats, over his thigh, “since it is the season, and I can’t ride Santa’s sleigh, can I ride you instead?”

His mouth bursts into a messy smile. “Sorry, what?”

You mean to huff out of annoyance but it comes out like a laugh. “I’m trying to be cute!”

Aemond takes your chin in his fingers and your body freezes. “You really don’t need to try,” he says, and leans in to capture your lips with his.

The way Aemond kisses makes you melt every time. He’s slow and commanding, like he’s savouring every precious moment. His hands slide underneath your jumper, dragging along your skin to hold your waist. The promise of what will come next puts you on edge.

Sparse gasps for breath hum in the back of your throat. Aemond smiles against your lips and holds you tighter, dragging you to straddle his lap. He pulls away from your mouth, to your frustration, and places a wide palm at your navel, the waist of your jeans. “Stand up, need to get these off.”

You move off him and go to undo the top button, but Aemond grabs your wrists and pulls you closer. You watch as he smiles slightly, his fingers moving to undo the button and the zip. He’s teasing you, drawing out the anticipation as much as he can. 

You sigh in relief once they’re off, dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside and coming back to straddle Aemond. 

His hands settle at your thighs. “Look at you, so eager, hmm?”

“You can’t blame me, you’ve been ignoring me all day,” you say, grinding your clothed core against the bulge in his sweats. You can be teasing too, with drawn out movements of your hips.

Aemond’s jaw tightens. You can see he’s trying to stay smug. “Well, we’re fixing that now.”

You press a kiss to his cheek while your fingertips curl at the top of his sweats, dragging them down enough to free his cock. He’s taught you what he likes and if you were feeling patient you might have come to your knees before him, but at the slightest touch of Aemond’s fingertips against the fabric over your clit, you know what you need.

He pulls your panties to the side, dragging you along his leaking cock with a hand at your lower back. He’s hard and you’re achingly wet. He holds you where he wants you, lining himself up to pull you down onto his length. The stretch is sharp and sweet, hollowing you out and filling you perfectly. 

Aemond’s head falls against the back of the sofa as you sink down.

“Does it feel good?” you tease him.

He’s breathless, helplessly watching the space where your bodies meet. “Fuck, perfect little pussy– feels so good,”

You cradle your arms around his head as you ride him, unhurried, hands restless as you feel his hair and the sides of his face, along his jaw.

Aemond hardly has to do anything, as soon as his fingertips are on your clit you feel your spine straighten and something inside you tighten. He circles over you lazily, watching your face with a soft, admiring kind of amusement. 

“Right there,” you whisper, “don’t fucking stop.”

“Are you gonna come for me, darling?”

Your thighs are burning at the effort but you don’t care. You’re so close, so close.

“Beg me,” Aemond murmurs.

A slew of slurred and breathless pleas fall from your lips. You can feel the slickness between your legs, how easily he glides over you, how deep his cock reaches inside of you, pushing against the right spot.

Aemond hums as he grabs your hips with his free hand, fucking you faster and harder until you’re falling apart, convulsing, melting. 

You fall against Aemond, holding each other closer as you wait for the deliriousness to fade away. Suddenly the air is unbearably cold. You cling to Aemond, to his warmth, content in his arms.

“Happy with your ride?” Aemond asks. You can hear him grinning.

You lift your head and rest it against his shoulder. The light of the TV catches in his features, his jaw, his cheeks, his nose, the details of grey in his right eye and the unnatural bright blue of his left.

“Can I go again?”

Aemond leans into you, pressing his nose against yours. “You can ride me as many times as you want, darling.”

No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates!

[formulafanfics13]

Wrong Groupchat - OP81 🔥- part 2

Masterlist || Part 1

summary: oscar and reader are forced to attend a post-race paddock dinner after that video leaks. the team principals pretend nothing happened. the drivers? they do not. warning: sex tape fallout, secondhand embarrassment, chaotic grid energy, joking references to choking/filming, swearing, implied smut references, reader being an unbothered menace

You shouldn’t have worn red. You knew you shouldn’t have worn red. It was petty. Provocative. A little cruel, even. But that was the whole point.

Red, with strappy heels and that lipstick Oscar likes. The kind that stains your mouth the exact same way it did in thatvideo. The one that accidentally made its way into the Formula 1 drivers’ group chat via Oscar’s butterfingered AirDrop click. The one now immortalised in private Discord servers, Reddit threads, anonymous Twitter dumps and Charles Leclerc’s goddamn memory palace.

And now here you were, gliding through the lobby of a five-star hotel like you hadn’t been choked within an inch of your life on a headboard in glorious 4K.

Oscar, to his credit, looked like he might vomit. “You wore the lipstick,” he muttered, somewhere between awe and horror.

You smiled sweetly, threading your arm through his as you approached the private dining suite. “I also brought blush. For when you inevitably die of embarrassment and I need a respectful glow for my solo interviews.”

He groaned. “They’re going to make eye contact.”

“They saw my soul leave my body, sweetheart. Eye contact’s the least of your problems.”

He didn’t laugh. Not even a smile. Just a quiet little gulp as the maître d’ opened the door with a too-wide grin and announced your arrival to a room so tense it may as well have been rigged with explosives.

The team principals were already seated. Toto Wolff. Zak Brown. Fred Vasseur. Christian Horner. Andrea Stella. James Vowles. Flavio fucking Briatore. Each one of them holding a wine glass like it was the only thing separating them from absolute breakdown.

No one spoke. No one moved. The silence was biblical.

“Good evening,” you said sweetly, brushing your hand over Oscar’s shoulder as he led you to the far end of the table. “Sorry we’re late. Long… afternoon.”

Charles choked on his wine.

Fred’s glass slipped slightly. “It’s fine,” he said too quickly. “We just… started.”

Andrea Stella’s eyes flicked to Oscar. Then to you. Then back to Oscar with the weary expression of a man who now had to look his driver in the eye knowing he liked to say things like ‘you’re just my filthy little hole.’

You sat. Crossed your legs. Smiled like a virgin. Oscar sat beside you, visibly sweating through his shirt. His curls were freshly styled. You knew because you’d fixed them with your fingers twenty minutes ago after riding him in a fit of panic. (What if they’re mad? What if Zak says something? “Then bend me over the sink and remind me who the fuck I belong to.”)

Your lipstick hadn’t budged.

To your left sat Lando, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he was biting back a full dissertation.

To your right, Lewis Hamilton, the only man in the room holding it together with even a semblance of grace.

“Lovely weather,” Lewis offered, ever the diplomat. “Cool breeze rolling in.”

You smiled politely. “Very crisp.”

Across the table, Pierre Gasly whispered something to Yuki. Yuki immediately covered his mouth and snorted so loudly it made Andrea Stella flinch.

Oscar grabbed his water glass and gulped half of it in one go.

George Russell, seated next to Charles, cleared his throat. “The lighting was excellent, by the way. Really… flattering angles.”

Oscar choked so violently on his water that Toto Wolff half-rose from his chair in alarm.

Lando, helpfully, added, “I’ve seen worse porn. I mean, like. Not better. Just. You know.”

Zak Brown dropped his fork.

Charles nodded gravely. “It was… artistic.”

“Very sensual,” Carlos Sainz chimed in. “Yet aggressive. Cinematic.”

You turned your head slowly. “Did you just call my boyfriend’s cock cinematic?”

Carlos grinned. “Would you prefer theatrical?”

Oscar dropped his head into his hands.

Toto spoke up, steely and unreadable. “We are not having this conversation.”

Christian Horner, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to explode. “Can we just acknowledge how horrifying it was to receive unsolicited Oscar dick during sponsor meetings?! I was in a Zoom with Red Bull and suddenly it was just wham- full throttle hand kink.”

Max finally piped up. “No lie, I watched it three times.”

George nodded solemnly. “I was with Carmen. She’s traumatised.”

“Lily thought it was hot,” Alex muttered darkly.

“She texted me,” Oscar whispered.

The table collectively shrieked.

“Okay but real question,” Pierre leaned forward. “Was that the only take? Or did you have, like… a rehearsal round?”

You sipped your wine. “There’s a director’s cut.”

Oscar whimpered.

Yuki banged the table. “I KNEW IT.”

“I have never,” Zak Brown said firmly, “been more afraid of a group of drivers than I am right now.”

Lando leaned over you to whisper to Oscar, “You moaned louder than she did.”

“She bit his shoulder,” Charles said, visibly traumatised. “I saw teeth.”

George had tears in his eyes. “And the whole time I thought he was boring. I thought he was one of us.”

Lewis finally spoke again, eyebrows raised. “Oscar, if you ever wanna direct a short film…”

Oscar turned to you with wide eyes and whispered, “I’m moving to Antarctica.”

You leaned in, hand on his thigh. “You’re trending, babe.”

“I’m dying.”

“They’re all jealous.”

“They saw my cum face.”

You grinned. “They rated your cum face.”

Andrea Stella clinked his glass. “So, about the upcoming media schedules-”

“DO NOT BRING UP THE WORD MEDIA,” Christian roared.

Across the room, Charles was sketching camera angles on a napkin. Max had opened a betting pool on how long you’d last before dropping another tape. Carlos offered to film it. Lance suggested better lighting. Kimi Antonelli asked how he could “learn that technique.” Oscar looked ready to combust.

And you? You kissed his cheek and whispered, “Smile for the cameras, pretty boy. You’re the new face of Formula 1’s sex appeal.”

He groaned into your shoulder.

[fastandcarlos]

Study Hard : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: as proud as he is as you near the end of your degree, charles can’t help but worry about the levels you’re pushing yourself to in order to achieve it

The sight that greeted him was far from what Charles expected to see, walking into your apartment Charles was met by you, busying yourself on the sofa with books stacked as far as the eye could see. 

“Have you left that spot all day?” Charles asked, having left you there hours ago. 

“I got myself a drink a while ago,” you responded, not tearing your eyes from your book as you carefully read through the page. 

A sigh came from George as you found what you were looking for, picking up your laptop and typing away the source. Knowing that you’d only got yourself a drink immediately left Charles concerned, you were working yourself incredibly hard, and despite him continually reminding you to take care of yourself, it seemed as if you were doing anything but. 

The end was in sight for you now, but Charles was becoming increasingly concerned that you wouldn’t reach that end if you continued to work yourself as hard as you were doing currently. 

Charles sorted himself out, putting his keys away and slipping off his shoes before trying to find a space on the sofa where he could sit.  

“Love,” Charles whispered, poking against your arm as your eyes finally glanced across to look at him. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you muttered, putting everything down for a moment, even if you didn’t really want to. “How was your day? Did you have a good practice run?” 

“It was good,” he weakly smiled, “how’s your day been? You look busy.” 

“There’s lots to be getting on with,” you told him, pointing to all your books and paperwork, “but I’ve been getting a few breaks in and making sure that I stop for a while,” you then assured Charles, although he was far from convinced.  

“Right,” Charles hummed, his eyes studying you closely as you were itching to return to your laptop. “How about I go and get sorted and then we can do something together?” 

“Yeah, that would be nice,” you smiled, watching as Charles stood up from where he was sat. “I’ve only got this little bit left to do and then I can put all of this away for a little while.” 

Charles rushes to get himself sorted, hurrying down the stairs, hopeful that everything is tidy for you two to hang out. But it is anything but. 

You still looked as if you hadn’t moved when Charles came downstairs, you didn’t even notice him reappearing as he stood and watched you, his arms folded in front of his chest as he tried to not let you see just how frustrated he was becoming with you. 

Charles gives you a moment, wondering if maybe you need to just finish something, but when you pick up yet another book, his patience seems to run out with you. 

“Come on, time to stop with this for a while,” Charles encourages, going to pick something up. 

You leap across and snatch it from Charles, placing the paper back in its rightful stop. “You can’t just move these things Charles, they’re important.” 

“I’m well aware of how important this degree is to you love, but aren’t I important too?” Charles questioned, throwing his arms up in frustration. 

You stop what you’re doing, placing everything down as your hands run over the top of your head. You’d been working incredibly hard, some would argue a little too hard, and perhaps Charles had a point that you were beginning to forget about the man who always took such good care of you. 

As you remain silent, Charles moves closer to you, worried that he’s ended up upsetting you more than he intended. “Why don’t we put this away for the night?” 

Your head shook back at Charles, “I’ve still got so much to do.” 

“Really?” 

“I’m still lacking in sources for this to be a credible dissertation, I’m so far off the word count it’s embarrassing, and I’ve not even proofread any of what I wrote today,” you began to explain to him. “There’s only a few weeks left and if I don’t start pulling my finger out to get this done then there’s no way I’m going to get my degree, and if I don’t get my degree, I can’t get the job, and then who knows what I’ll do?” You fret, rambling away to Charles as you let your concerns get the better of you. “I don’t mean to do all of this and leave us doing nothing but if I don’t get on then I’m just going to end up further behind everyone else Charles.” He reached across and took a hold of your hand before he could let you rant any further, sensing that you were beginning to get yourself overwhelmed.  

“Babe, just listen to me,” Charles whispered, pulling you closely into his side. “You’re doing incredibly well, but you’re going to end up sick if you carry on like this.” 

“Charles I-” 

“No,” Charles continued, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. “It’s inspiring seeing how much this means to you, but you’ve still got to make sure that you’re prioritising yourself my love.” 

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted as your voice began to falter, moving even closer into Charles. “Every time I try and relax and stop stressing, I just end up overthinking all the things I still have to do.” 

Charles let you vent, he lets you debrief, knowing it’s what’s been bubbling for so long. You’d tried to pretend that you were fine for so long, but Charles knew you much better than that. 

“It’s alright,” Charles whispered as he leant back on the sofa with you, moving you away from all of your books. 

“I’m exhausted with all this,” you sighed, burying into Charles’ chest. 

“I know you are, I know it’s hard,” Charles sympathised, knowing better than anyone how hard you were pushing yourself, “let’s not fret about this anymore tonight.” 

“Y-you’re right,” you stuttered, feeling Charles press a kiss against the top of your head, “can I just leave all this here?” 

“Let’s head to bed,” Charles suggested, knowing the thought of tidying up all of your mess was enough to potentially tip you over the edge. 

You don’t even protest as Charles takes your hand and helps you up from the sofa to wander over to the stairs. You allow him to guide you, your steps lazy and slow as you finally realise just how tired your body is. Everything aches, from your mind to your toes after cramping up on the sofa for most of the afternoon, you’re ready to just shut down from everything that’s been going on. 

It takes a moment for you to really allow yourself to forget the work that is scattered around your living room, but Charles doesn’t let you look back for long before walking you up the stairs and straight for your bedroom, knowing it’s the perfect place for you to be. 

Once you’re there, you flop down, Charles quickly joining you. He immediately takes on the role of big spoon and brings you into his chest, squeezing you as tightly as he can to take your mind off of things. 

“This is where we should be,” Charles mused as he rested his head on top of yours, “I forgot how nice it was to cuddle up to you, you’ve left me starved of affection for so long.” 

Your eyes roll at Charles’ dramatics, something he can tell you’re doing after so long together. Best of all though, Charles could feel you relaxing in his hold which was the only thing that he wanted for you. 

“Thank you for always looking out for me, even though I’m a pain,” you whispered back to Charles, “this will all be over soon enough.” 

“I just want you to be careful,” Charles reminded you, “I’m beyond proud of you, but I don’t want to see all your hard work see you hurt yourself too.” 

“I promise that I’ll take better care of myself.” 

“And I’ll make sure that I’m right there with you to take care of you too babe.” 

“What would I do without you?” You chuckled as your eyes began to close. 

Charles went to reply but soon noticed you settling down, deciding to fall silent and finally let you get some well-deserved sleep, with Charles right there when you woke up. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗