#me trying to answer asks while working 😭

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[pixlokita]

HELLO!! Thank you again for the Ballpit AU!!!

So I got the Into the Pit audiobook last week (I forgot to cancel my audible subscription for like.... months and needed to burn my credits somewhere fun LOL). And I wouldn't call myself a fnaf lore expert lol. But it got me randomly thinking. If the ball pit in Jeff's Pizza could time travel because -mumblemumble- Agony and Remnant reasons or something -mumblemumble- then the ball pit in the Pizzaplex probably had the same kind of thing where it absorbed all that stuff over the years? Perhaps the two ball pits in your AU that exist at different times are one and the same?

I could definitely see Fazbear entertainment in Pizzeria Sim finding the original Fredbear's ball pit after like 30 years and going, "Yeah, we can give this thing to that new guy with the bear head. His pizzeria won't last a week anyway."

And when that pizzeria burns down and they build the Pizzaplex on top of it, some OTHER pizzaplex employees find that thing hidden away and say to themselves, "We can't waste this money-saving resource! Find a good place for the 40-50 year old disgusting unwashed ball pit in this Pizzaplex immediately!!!"

...And that kids, is one possible recipe for your very own time traveling ball pit....??

But also this is fnaf. Nothing really needs a recipe, I personally am a fan of answering lore questions with, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ "uhh-uhh!"

Anyway thanks for being awesome!! You are an inspiration to a fellow long comic project writer heehee

-crying because I love this idea and you can consider it canon in my au now- HAVSJSBKSBD DUDE AAAA LOVE IT do you think Michael recognized it 😭 he just got it in pizzeria simulator and was like 🧍‍♂️ okay helpy you can have this one…

It’s full of remnant and agony and colorful plastic orbs :’> and maybe some Easter eggs at the bottom and time travel magic =w= but very old and gross 👌

[jrueships]

can you please walk us through the relationship between wemby and jabari the people need to know

i think the most notable thing about vic and Jabari's relationship is that they don't have one, when it would be so beneficial if they did. they're like two soldiers fighting for the opposite sides of a war, too loyal to the cause to stop and think about what could have been if they just lowered their respective weapons aimed by cold hands larger than their own. foils by fate, friends by freedom.

' remember, you will Always be Different. '

' remember, you will Always be Replaceable. '

'Replaceable'

Jabari's dad made it in the NBA, then didn't. He was a big that could shoot, but wasn't a post-up man. Back then, post-up was the desired style. Ironically, now, it's all about shooting. But his dad didn't live in the now, and his career in the US was short-lived, to keep it cordial. Jabari's older brother played basketball throughout his whole life, but stopped after college. Jabari's cousin, Kwame Brown, was drafted 1st overall in the lottery, and became a notorious bust for the Washington wizards.

Basketball is a business. Basketball is fleeting.

It doesn't matter that a big with sharpshooter skills is valued as something so 'prized' in today's nba, not back then, not when it would have mattered for Jabari's dad. Making it is one ballpark in its own, but Staying in it? Can perhaps be an even more painful ordeal when the hoops to accomplish it aren't circus hoops, but a plain hill some just don't have the strength, mentality, or the materials to help climb without distraction or pitfall.

Jabari's dad made sure Jabari had this threat forever ingrained in his mind. When he yells at Jabari for misplaced eye contact, for typing the wrong words in a public social media reply, for reacting in a way a camera might misinterpret, it's out of love. Jabari's dad was known for being a hassle to coach back then, maybe because he knew his potential and no one else did because it was too new to the mold. So he makes sure Jabari doesn't follow his same habits. Jabari is polite to authority, simply replies with a 'Yes Sir' or a 'No Ma'am', he holds eye contact, he wakes up hours before he needs to just to jump rope, just to uphold the standards that his family could not. He is Everything his father is and isn't, plus more. When his team wins, he's still talking about his missed freethrows even 8 hours later. Because someone else could have won the game And hit those free throws too . someone from a family that gained success and stayed in that success. Someone who wasn't Just Another Son of a basketball player trying to do what his father couldn't, someone who was Different .

Everyone knew wemby was different. When his literature class was asked to write an essay about your future dreams in life, he wrote a fictional romance about a couple where the woman got in a car accident and was comatosed as a result, but got better in the end. He didn't write about being a great basketball player one day, because his parents don't pressure him to hunker himself into the norm, even though his mother once was and now coaches. If Wemby one day realized this wasn't for him, they would encourage him to leave and follow whatever greater passions propelling him. He's so agile for his size because his dad was an Olympic talent in track and field. He is someone who has hobbies and talents that are considered common alone, but strange combined, because he loves what he has and what he does. He reads every night for one hour before bed not to appear as some pseudointellectual, but because he Genuinely loves it, and when he loves something, he excels at it. He does try to be different, but not out of ego. He just loves to be. He either accomplishes at 200% or zero. It may be 200% in an unexpected direction, but it's His direction and that's what matters. If he somehow does wind up a bust, a possibility he considers without fear but acceptance as potential fate, then he won't go down as yet another failed first pick. He'll fall as he flew, Victor Wembanyama.

' Different '

' Replaceable'

Jabari winces each time he's subbed out, even for a second, even on an injured ankle, he's silently Stubborn, his posture shrunken and his gaze at the ground yet his eyes, big, wobbling, staring up always at the speaker, he's silently scared.

Jabari doesn't Want to be different. He just wants to be what his family couldn't be when it came to fame: irreplaceable . His parents split when he was younger, he tries his hardest to appease them both as to not cause any more issues. The relationship relies on his shoulders more than ever, and he can't fumble it again. He has to be what his dad couldn't so his dad can stay, commenting on commonality or surprises. He wants to support his still working mother, especially after the split. He doesn't Want to be unique, he just wants Security.

Because this can crumble any moment now, it doesn't matter how high your pick was or how bright the future Could Have been or how the game would later shift to your style if you had just somehow Stayed. Why bet on low chances if you know you can't handle the risk. He shakes any college coaches' hands that showed up to his practices, personally thanks them for coming even though he's one of the best in the country so their presence should be a given to him, it's not. When he picks a college, he picks one that guaranteed their faith in him from day One, and didn't require any further prodding to finally say '.. Maybe we'll offer you a position' like Kentucky did, as big and famous as it is, it wasn't Secured . They saw him as a risk at one point, and that's everything he's been trying to avoid when it came to attention, negatively standing out.

Jabari wants to be known as the strong shoulder to the world. He WANTS to be known as That One Guy who can just carry everything, nameless but Good. He just wants to be Good. Please tell him he's good. Please tell him what he's doing is Good. That basing his entire personality around yet another soldier who ultimately fell in battle but fought nonetheless being nameless is Good. Please feel free to give him all your burdens to bear like he's just some mule, an animal, a Tool .. because that means he's Useful, at least. That means he's Good. And if he isn't good, then he's nothing. Because you can always just buy another one anyways. A better one.

'Different'

Although his parents try not to treat Wemby by simplifying his differences into a strictly labeled, simple FUTURE BASKETBALL PRODIGY box at birth, that doesn't mean that can always stop others from doing it. Wemby signed his first autograph at ten years old.

It didn't matter if he was a kid who was so much more than just his basketball future, basketball fans wanted one thing from him and one thing only: Success. People didn't care about his literary skills or his drawing hobbies. The eyes on his alien needed to be smaller 'so your shoe can sell better, trust us, it's still Your drawing.. your weird little .. not money-making hobby, do believe me, Vic, We know what We're doing. You just stick to whatever you do.'

His differences, in the end, are minimalized just to that. He's just Different. That's what everyone says who wouldn't really care to say anything at all if he never hooped as well as they wanted in the first place. The youtube videos of 40 year old men criticizing his 15 year old games didn't Really care if he was just a kid, they just cared in the 'imagine when he reaches peak physicality? imagine the points (money) he'd make for the nba.' His beautiful differences, artistic, soft, unique but oh-so wonderfully common and passionate.. are all dissolved into 'Different', the Base definition.

he's an alien. Someone you can just dump all your poverty franchise worries onto because don't worry, he's Different. Trust me, he'll save your team. 'He's Different. ..am i talking about how he'd effortlessly answer questions in class while also trying to hide the fact that he's playing on his phone by tucking his bony legs awkwardly in his chair and crouching his spine over that it looked almost scary? HELL NO? what does THAT have to do with BASKETBALL?? no, he's just freakishly long, but like. Gifted. Though. ... I don't know, man, he's just DIFFERENT, okay? you can trust me, i'm a sports podcaster, okay? everything i say is gold.'

A celebrity approaches him because he was different than most famous basketball athletes. He was Different. And yet, when he didn't recognize or notice her presence due to Different cultures ( due to Being Genuinely, Detailedly Different ), he was scorned and ushered out of public eye so another possible pr bomb couldn't injure his reputation as a Difference That They Really Would Rather Not Want.

that's what his reading falls into, his old friends, his family, his art, his personality. If it's beyond ball, if it's beyond Business. The world only cares if it's marketable. Sure, some reporters will ask a question outside of sport, but only because it'll be a Different.. funny little nugget of knowledge for fans to laugh at then soon disregard for what Really made him famous. But, Wemby is what he always wanted to be. He's Different. So What if it's not exactly the kind of Different he actually wants, he actually functions on? No one has the time to perform 200% anymore. Slap the label you wanted and call it quits, stop being so High-Maintenanced. That's not marketable.

You're just different. And to some people, that's all you'll ever be. No need to explore it any further. Who knows, your Consumers might find something they won't like. And we can't risk that happening to our greatest circus freak.

i mean. Generational basketball talent .

If there's a press conference going on that somehow includes the two, then Wemby just wants to be sure everyone can hear what he really wants to say, in his own words, not echoing anyone else's, and Jabari just wants to Be in the Room.

His brother stopped playing basketball because his family said he didn't try hard enough. Jabari Can't have that. His whole life revolves Around basketball, around sport. He doesn't WANT to be DIFFERENT if that isn't the soundest option, he just wants to be GREAT. Because GREAT is SUCCESS. Jabari Smith is not success. It's just a retry at it . His father shares the same name.

Wemby's life did not always revolve around basketball, to people, at one point. At one point, Wemby's life was just his life. Now, it seems like only his family think that, and they're from a whole other country. When he comments on videos critiquing his playstyle, he doesn't do so out of anger or questioning, he does so because he genuinely Wants to improve. He Does want to be great. But, he wants to be great in Everything that he finds interesting. He always did. When he likes an author, he reads All their books, not just their most notorious novel. He wants to be transported into other people's worlds so he can learn, so he can change, so he can be Different. Even if he somehow were to lose all of this fame, this Greatness, this job, this opportunity, he will never really lose. Because he's someone who's always taken opportunities to the fullest, so even if they pan out a little differently, that's Fine, really, because he's different. Not in the minimizing, dictionary definition then leave the meaning at that different, but in the butterfly effect. What he once was ten days ago is not exactly the same of what he is now, and it hurts, sometimes, when people fail to see that, or simply don't want to because textbook different is easier to digest than worldly different.

IN SHORT.. theyre foils. i can't Exactly walk u thru their relationship bcs .. there Isn't one.. & that's what's so Interesting about them. That's what makes their relationship, to me. Because if they WERE to be friends, if they somehow in some alternate world WERE to get paired up on the same team... they would be friends. I really think they would be. Not only because their signs are so compatible, or their differences are so stark, but because their similarities would triumph everything beautifully. Maybe. We don't know because they Weren't paired together, we can only speculate. But i think it would be big and beautiful, whatever they would have, it would be Something.

unfortunately, we don't live in an alternate world where they're teammates though ! Double unfortunately, Jabari and Wemby's biggest similarity is their loyalty to the game (a double-edged sword in both their lives from Jabari's silent unhealthy desire to be limited and Wemby's silent desperation not to be) Wemby, in Jabari's eyes, is Indeed a powerful...

Problem.

He's not really a person to him . In all fairness, no one really is when they're involved in the basketball world, not to Jabari, not from the way he's been taught. Everyone's supposed to be Replaceable, a faceless tool in the pocket of good business.

.. except for This freakazoid. Apparently.

APPARENTLY, he's some supposed 'saint'. someone to be feared for being more. APPARENTLY, the reporters just LOVE yapping about him SO much, that Jabari HAS to take the time out of his training just to talk about some guy who doesn't even GO here, yet when they ask him about his opinion on future prospects. WELL, that's ALL wemby IS to Jabari, just another future prospect. Just another problem.

A problem he'll be sure to check off his list.

... okay, so Maybe he's a bit more than a problem.. maybe.. he's just a really persistent problem? yeah, that's it, nothing more. Jabari will work through this. He Always does. That's what he does well, Work.

Wemby wonders if that's all he ever does .

But he doesn't have long before Jabari's marching down the tunnel to beat himself up over all his mistakes other people would never make, and Wemby's being escorted to an interview that other people would never make solely to show how Much he just Stands Out as a soul... in basketball .

I hope they find each other in basketball, and out of it as well. I just feel like

Something would Happen

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[bri-does-art]

a little birdy told me you have some kind of an AU for the Funtime animatronics also?

... who is this.

There are, like, only 5 people who know about this. So which one of youse is it? >:'D (I am not mad. I am very glad to have the opportunity to tease it out. <3)

I am working on an AU featuring the Funtimes, little birdy is right! It's a very different flavour than Call of the Abyss, more of a fantastical drama than a science-fiction horror mystery. It is a tale of duty and responsibility, secrets and closets, choices and consequences, healing and growth, a farmer's child and a puzzling fae, and above all, it is a tale about two lonely souls whose fates are more closely intertwined than either realize.

It is also a tale full of fae shenanigans, fun and indulgence. It's not a serious epic like Call of the Abyss, and hopefully not as huge and ambitious either. 😂 So, dropping the serious act, it's a Fae AU in which some poor unsuspecting farmer gets caught up in the Funtimes' court's bullshit and learns to navigate a new social circle that seems hellbent on keeping their newest member close. I will make a new blog just for it, as there will be more, err, kid-unfriendly elements featuring in this one - I want to be able to properly curate my audience for this AU without alienating people who follow me here and like my non-explicit stories. So, until that's done, I'm leaving y'all with this little sneak peek. :)

[theygender]

Me @ my pets: why do you get separation anxiety and destroy things when we go on a trip, can you please just be normal?

My gf: *goes on a trip and leaves me home alone for a few days*

Me: ...

Me: ah.

[onepiexe]

on god. why.

[adore-gregor]

my perception of grades totally changed since i started uni

[hotdyke-hardstyle]

i haven’t been online in forevsies ur new url goes so insanely hard !!!

thank you lovely!!

[k-hotchoisan]

hiiiii <333 I have lovedddd lovvvveeeddd alll of your works I actually spent my day reading each and everyone of them I love it so muchhh!! 😭❤️

I have a request teehee, could you write one where Sannie is like a professor in your college and there’s little teasing here and there and where he ends up having her alas!! DOM - SAN ‼️💋

his favourite

<prof!san x fem!reader>

Prof Choi likes playing favourites.

You’re his favourite.

Genres/Warnings: smut, dom professor Choi San, pwp, face fucking, unprotected sex, oral (m receive) ,mutual pining, age gap, size kink, cream pies, mild jealousy plot, sir kink, light bondage (just tying up reader) teasing, sexual tension, teaching assistantxteacher obv forbidden but we still eat it up anyway!

Word count: 12.3K

a/n: happy birthday to the man of my dreams </3 enjoy this little choi san birthday treat. i put my love into this so please love this as much as i did! and thank you @bro-atz for the tidbits of help as always 🩷

apply for taglist here!

You stare at the laptop screen, scanning through your details on the application form, double, and triple checking that everything was filled in correctly. 

“Which professors are you trying as a teaching assistant for?” Your roommate asks, her neck craning over to see you attaching the file to six different emails, to six different professors within the department, pretty much answering her question the moment she reads off each professor’s email. 

“Why not try for the department chair?”

You scrunch your eyebrows as if it’s the first time you’re hearing that. 

“Who?”

“Professor Choi?”

Your eyes widen, your neck almost getting whiplash from how fast you turned to your roommate at the sound of his name. 

“Why the fuck would I try him?” 

Your roommate shrugs in an attempt to hide her amused reaction from your reaction at his name. 

“Who knows? I’m confident he remembers you even though you spent only one semester with him”, she hums turning away to pour herself another ice drink from the pitcher. “On a serious note, you may as well just get all the help you can get. Besides, what are the chances that Prof Choi sees your email? He’s the department chair. I’m sure his mailbox is just flooded anyway.” 

True, you think to yourself, turning your head back to your laptop, and adding the professor’s email address in. But you still hesitate, staring at the application form, your cursor hovering over the send button. Your roommate looks over at you, and she decides that your wishy-washy behaviour is just being the biggest nuisance on earth, so her hand flies over yours and helps you to press send, and she watches you freak out at her while she giggles and escapes after committing her crime, chasing your roommate around the kitchen island for a good seven minutes.

Settling back down in defeat, you sigh in your hands, giving yourself pep talks. 

Right. 

The chances are close to zero that Prof Choi will see my application anyway. 

The chances of him remembering me are close to zero anyway. 

You shut your laptop, and the applications are completely erased from your mind. 

“Yo, check your emails, babe. The application results are out for me”, your roommate says, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. 

You settle yourself down across her, a chilled drink in your hand, pulling up your email inbox. As you expected, you see the subject headline ‘Teaching Assistant Application Results’, and you expand the email.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you mutter, loud enough for your roommate to hear. Her head pops out from behind her screen. 

“Who did you get?”

“Choi San.”

Professor Choi San. His classes weren’t the bane of your existence—but he, himself was. 

And the fact that it only took one semester to solidify that claim. Almost everyone wanted to get into his class, so fucking many of them just squealing over how he looked almost god-like. You wonder how much of a swoon he would be, how much of the rumours that travelled down the stream were factual, though with thousands of students constantly fighting for a spot in his class, you sure were coloured surprised when you landed a spot in Professor Choi’s class. 

The moment he walked in, the whispers within the confines of the lecture hall erupted into gasps and squeals. Unfortunately, the rumours were right—the moment ProfessorChoi walked in, it was as if your eyes naturally followed his movement—confident strides in his steps dictated by his outfit—a simple dress shirt under a dark gray vest that accentuated his wide shoulders and skinny waist.  

He was so fucking handsome—his hair neatly slicked back, frameless glasses sat on his nose bridge, his sharp and small eyes hiding behind the lens. Undoubtedly, seeds of infatuation began lodging themselves in you. Well, it’s not like you had a chance with him anyway, especially when the gold band reflected from his ring finger being a huge indicator. Maybe keeping him as an eye candy would work out just fine. 

Prof Choi’s classes were interesting, and he as a professor, other than being a distraction during the majority of his classes, held his credentials. However, at times, some sarcastic comments would bubble to the surface, and even though he did tend to commend top-scoring students for tests, he still maintained professionalism for the most part—the content taught wasn’t rocket science anyway. You saw yourself being able to breeze through the syllabus for the most part until you received your grade for one of your essays. You stared at his comments, marked in red lines, circles, and words—tone cold and direct—not that you weren’t used to it, but this time? You felt his comments alongside him marking you down were completely unjustified. 

It was then that you pushed past the group of girls who would stay back after class to shamelessly flirt with him, under the guise of wanting to discuss more about the content taught that day, and you stood before the group, asking to speak to Prof Choi personally. Prof Choi did have people staying back after class to consult with him about grades, although they would stay shortly with him staying stern to his marking rubrics, but when he realised you weren’t backing down on top of the way you approached him so directly, it intrigued him.

His office was spacious, considering that he was the department chair—and without introductions, he had you dive in immediately in consultation. 

You wasted no time, flipping through the spent pages of your essay, pointing out areas where you felt his comments were unjustified. Prof Choi listened, and he refuted your points, some of which you decided to accept but not for one particular part;

“This part had no proper scientific support of your argument for this point-“

“Bullshit”, you cut him off. Prof Choi blinked, shocked at the blunt cut from you. His eyebrows were scrunched in confusion next, wondering if he heard right that a student not only just cut him off, but cussed at him.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s here. A small significance value is still something isn’t it?” You replied, pointing at the paragraph after. He glanced at the paper once more, forcing himself to focus while you fought back that your argument was supported. 

So you made Prof Choi sit before you and listen to your elaborations, and needless to say, he was rather impressed, although he had to hold his expression neutral. 

You came out of the consultation victorious—the day Prof Choi called you over after his class again, handing you your script, and you saw your total marks shooting up to a gorgeous score. Your head was so into the clouds that you returned a smirk along with a shrug—showing off your victory and satisfaction as your thanks—an I told you so, leaving the professor to stare after you in awe while you practically skipped to your seat. 

That sealed your fate. 

From then on, Prof Choi would have his attention on you—recognising which seat you picked to sit in in class, wondering why you hadn’t dared sit nearer. And when it came to picking people to answer questions, his gaze would fly to you immediately—either waiting to call you out once you raised your hand or simply calling you when he felt like it. For some sick reason, he finds the way your face scrunches up in stress when he calls your name in his honey-soaked voice amusing, and even adorable at times, though he would never admit it. But oh, did he love the comments and answers you would give him. 

Despite that assignment being the only one where you decided to consult Prof Choi, following every grade release of an assignment, he would single you out, especially after class, to fucking ask if you had questions regarding said assignment, which honestly started to freak you out—mostly because he never gave you the attention before, and you weren’t used to it. The whispering gossip in the class about you being the teacher’s pet slowly reached your ears too, and even Prof Choi heard it—and he only exacerbated that rumours by constantly giving you his attention. 

Every time you reached your dorm, the words that left your mouth which your roommate could recite verbatim, “I swear to god, Prof Choi has it out for me!”

Not to mention you were fucking relieved when the last day of his class rolled around, but unfortunately, his parting words to you were, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, y/n”. You did everything in your power to avoid getting into his class and even bumping into him, which seemed to work swell. 

Until now that is. 

Now here you are again, standing before the familiar heavy wooden door, staring up at the wooden plate, embossed with gold lettering “Department Chair Choi San” staring right at you. You had to physically drag yourself off your bed to prepare for the first day partnered with Prof Choi. And when your roommate’s words of “oh come on, he can’t be that bad. He’s hot!”, echoed through your ears, it all the more made you want to just ditch your first day by clawing your eyeballs out. 

You had to collect yourself before Prof Choi collected you. 

With a raised knuckle, you rap against the door, taking deep inhales in the process. His voice, which sounded deceivingly like honey, remained the same as you remembered. 

“Come in.”

You pause for a moment, embracing yourself before holding onto to doorknob and pushing his door open. 

There he was, Professor Choi, his eyes focused on the scripts on his desk, which had piled up. His space remained the same as you remembered, for the most part—shelves littered with awards and files, the same desktop taking up one-quarter of his huge ass desk, and the couch with the coffee table left to the side of the room. Prof Choi wore a stern look of concentration on his face, still preoccupied with finishing up marking his scripts. 

When his pen pauses and his gaze shifts towards the door, a small smile spreads across his face. He lifts his head and drops his pen, interlocking his fingers on his desk with growing amusement when his eyes meet yours. 

Fuck, he’s still so handsome.

“Professor Choi”, you greet, holding your expression neutral as you bow, forcing yourself not to fidget with your tote bag. 

“Y/n!” Prof Choi greets almost too enthusiastically. “I would assume you would be more than delighted when I picked you to be my teaching assistant.”

“Honoured, almost”, you reply. It’s taking all of your energy not to break his gaze. He’s staring at you with unreadable eyes, and you’re wondering if the fluttering in your chest is from the anxiety or the way Prof Choi is staring at you.

Prof Choi laughs, and it tickles your ears a little too good. 

“Sit. We have a lot to go through today”, he gestures to the seat before him, and you take it.

He switches on his monitor to his course syllabus and turns the monitor slightly towards you. 

“Oh, before we begin, it’s a pleasure meeting you again, y/n.”

Oh boy, was being Prof Choi’s teaching assistant a fucking handful. You knew it was gonna be rough, but to be assisting Professor Choi San? He was on another level—his schedule would be filled to the brim with meetings with the faculty on top of conducting classes weekly. You struggled in your first month, learning the ropes, especially from a busy and challenging professor like him. He wasn’t mean or cold at all, on the contrary, more direct and meticulous. Well, he had to be, considering his position. Nonetheless, it felt like he was always too busy to attend to your questions sometimes, and that would leave you to your own devices. 

You stand in the aisle, looking down at the assortment of foods lined up in the chiller. Has Prof eaten yet? Does he even eat? What does he even eat? By instinct, you pull out your phone and open his chat. 

[you]: Hi Prof. Have you eaten? I’m at the convenience store near the campus. I could grab something quick for you. 

A couple of minutes go by, but your phone doesn’t receive a ping, and you had to reach the office soon. So you pick up another tuna rice ball for the professor alongside yours before making a beeline for the cashier. 

Prof Choi hears the knock on his door and as usual, he utters his usual “come in”. His gaze lands on you, and he glances at the clock. 

“You’re on time today”, he points out. 

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I’m always on time, Professor.”

“You’re usually in a little earlier.”

“Right, because I got you this”, you reply, rustling through the plastic bag in your hands, fishing out the rice ball.

He looks up at you, confusion hinted in his expression. He doesn’t take the food yet. 

“What’s this?” 

“Tuna rice ball. Surely only having coffee in the morning is not filling your stomach.” 

You put the food in front of him. “Besides, I messaged you but you didn’t reply. So I just chose something safe. Unless you’re telling me you’re allergic to tuna or something.”

Prof Choi blinks. His hands reach out to take the snack from the desk, unwrapping the plastic packaging as he watches you leave his office to grab a mug of coffee. He glances over at his phone, and sure enough, your name is there with your message.

Since then, his reply would pop up in mere minutes whenever you asked him if he wanted anything to eat. 

Of course, the more you spent time with him, the more you grew comfortable, and all the thoughts you ever stressed about slowly faded off. Prof Choi grew more relaxed around you, internally grateful that you’re able to tank a significant fraction of his workload for him. Undoubtedly, you also come to realise that Prof Choi is human after all—he obviously would make mistakes, even as someone of his caliber, and deep inside, you found it rather cute, well, until you had to stop yourself from developing deranged thoughts. 

Not to mention, another problem seemed to pop up—his flirty banter. He likely picked up that it made you flustered sometimes, and since then, he wouldn’t let it go, relishing at the way pink creeps up your cheeks when he would say something that wasn’t like his ‘professor-self’, and at worst, feeding into your crooked thoughts. 

You stare at him as he types away, particularly, the metal band around his ring finger. You wonder who was the lucky lady who had the chance to be with him. You blink. 

What the hell were you thinking?

“It’s rude to stare, you know”, Prof Choi’s voice snapping you out of your daydreams. 

“I’m just wondering about your ring, that’s all”, you reply, forcing your attention back to your half-marked assignments.

“I’m not actually married”, he suddenly confesses, and for some reason, it makes your heart beat slightly faster. 

“Huh?” Is all you manage to reply. 

Prof Choi chuckles. He pauses his work on the desktop, turning his attention to you. Even though you have worked so closely with him for a while already, you can never seem to find your composure around him. 

Even though you see his face every week, you can’t seem to wrap your head around how insanely good-looking he is, how sometimes you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, because it doesn’t take long before you feel yourself slowly flushing. 

“I wear it on my ring finger so the students stop asking about my marital status”, Prof Choi clarifies. You watch him pull the ring from his ring finger and fit it over his index. 

“So you’re single”, you echo.

He nods, “I’m single.” 

What is this strange feeling of relief?

“What about you?” He suddenly asks. You’re not looking directly at him, and you don’t realise the way he’s looking at you attentively. And if you do, you just might combust.

“I’m…single too”, you answer, trying to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the red pen in between your fingers. 

“And why’s that? Too busy fighting with your professors for grades?”

You glare at him. 

“I think it was my professor picking fights with me”, you reply quickly, jabbing right back at him. 

You watch Prof Choi lower his gaze, a smile spreading across his cheeks—an actual smile—his dimples showing up. Oh fuck. Just when you thought you could depend on your ribcage to contain your heart properly, you found out Prof Choi could actually smile. 

When he looks up at you again, you break the eye contact, your gaze flying back to the papers before you. 

“You know, I’ve met many students, but you were the first to cuss out at me.”

You did? “I did?”

Your professor nods, cocking his eyebrow at the way you had seemed to have simply forgotten something as eventful as that. 

This time, Professor Choi bursts into a chuckle, completely amused by your reaction. 

“Is that why you kept-“

“Giving you chances to answer in class for credit? You should really thank me for that. Your grade for my class was one of the highest you know.”

You feel your cheeks flush. But before you can retaliate, Prof Choi cuts you off.

“Jokes aside, no. I think the discussion we had that afternoon had an impression on me. The cherry on top was you cussing at me. I liked that. Refreshing and endearing”, Prof Choi continues, his attention seeping back to the pile of scripts before him. 

“I think this side of Professor is pretty refreshing and endearing too”, you let it slip.

His pen pauses in mid-air. You don’t catch his gaze completely softening on you. 

As the semester continues on, you began easing into the class schedules. You watch prof get swarmed by a group of students, a usual ritual that happens right when the class ends. At this point, you had grown used to it. Sometimes the students would come and approach you instead, which honestly surprised you, but your heart would feel warm, knowing that these students trusted you.

It was then you became acquainted with another teaching assistant under Prof Choi, who joined shortly after you did—Choi Jongho. Initially, he came off as a rather shy individual, but the both of you warmed up quickly with each other, sharing the workload and bonding over gossip with each other. Gosh, was he fucking amazing with gossip, especially when it came to Professor Choi. Soon enough, the both of you were texting almost on a regular basis, the conversations weighing more towards academic topics sprinkled with a little gossip. 

“You’re going off with Choi Jongho?”

“Yeah”, you reply, bunching the papers in your hands. “I’ve got some things to discuss with him about.” Partially true. 

For some reason, even though your professor has been completely swamped with papers to grade and meetings to attend, you would always find him loitering around your desk from time to time. He seems to especially enjoy doing that when you’re around. 

“You’ve been spending an awfully lot amount of time with him”, Prof Choi points out, looking over your shoulder as he watches you scribble on another student’s paper. 

“Yeah, we get along well actually. Isn’t that a good thing, Prof? Both your teaching assistants are besties.”

For some reason, that makes Prof Choi frown, but you’re too absorbed in your work to notice it.

A couple of minutes go by, and you still feel his presence, not that you mind, but you’re starting to find it peculiar that he’s been hanging around your desk a lot recently.

“Do you have something to discuss with me, prof?” You ask, eyes still glued to the paper.

“Yes”, he replies, taking another sip from his mug. “What do you think of Choi Jongho?”

Such a random question to ask, you think. Maybe he’s just making sure you and Jongho get along well?

You pause, giving yourself to think, tapping the back of the red pen against your bottom lip, taken aback by Prof Choi’s sudden question, but the conversations you and Jongho had resurfacing into your brain, and a giggle escapes you, which makes Professor Choi subconsciously narrow his eyes and furrow his brows. 

“He’s fun to be around, and despite how he looks, he’s actually got a wicked sense of humor. Oh god, wait. Let me tell you what you he did that day while we were having lunch together-“

You turn your head to continue to run your mouth, only to slowly trail off when realise his face is just inches from yours, and you swear your heart is on a treadmill from the lack of distance between you and Prof Choi. It’s as if time paused, the both of you sinking right into each other’s gazes. You can’t help but notice how intense his gaze is, and you can’t seem to decipher his thoughts, but from the way this situation played out, you swore he’d just lean in and kiss you. 

Your heartbeat accelerates at the thought—why would he do that?

And when his fingers are on your chin, your rational thoughts are getting flushed out. 

“That’s an awful lot of cute things about Choi Jongho. I’ve never heard you talk about another Choi like that.”

You swallow hard, your body still frozen in spot. 

“What do you think about him then?” 

“Jongho? I was just-“

“No. Choi San.”

Oh god. You could only stare back at him. Prof Choi tilts his head, his eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer. His cologne floats and almost shuts down your senses—has he always smelled this good? 

The corner of his lips curl slightly at the way you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I t-think Prof-“

“San. Choi San”, he corrects you. 

Another hard swallow the more you try to focus your gaze on him. 

“I think Choi San’s a great professor. He’s really competent, a lot softer than he presents himself as-“

Fuck you can’t think. Not when he’s staring down your eyes to your lips like that. 

“Mmhm.”

“And he’s really so-“

Then a loud knock echoes across the room, breaking the tension. Prof Choi’s body doesn’t shift, but he looks up at the door, shouting “door’s unlocked”, before he stands back upright, adjusting his glasses and walking back to his desk. 

Jongho’s head peeks in, then he bows at Prof Choi before he walks to your desk. You stare up at him with a forced smile. 

“Ready to go? I was waiting for your message”, Jongho says, his eyes glancing over the professor, then you, a strange feeling that he probably interrupted something. 

You nod, while shoving your belongings into your bag, then slinging it on your shoulder. 

Barely being able to look at Professor Choi, you still force yourself to, bowing goodbye to him. 

“Thank you Prof Choi. See you tomorrow.”

He looks up from his desk, right into your eyes. 

“See you too, y/n.” 

You can’t help but wonder how far things would have gone if Jongho didn’t knock the door.

Jongho isn’t an idiot. Initially, he assumes that you and the professor were on much friendlier terms considering that you came in before he did. Granted, the workload he would give the both of you was the same, he would take the initiative to have lunch with the both of you both individually and together whenever he had pockets of free time, but what roused his awareness was the lingering glances Professor Choi would cast at you from time to time, the way he seemed to relish the reactions you would give him whenever he teased you. 

He notices the way your ears would grow red even when you roll your eyes at the professor and jab him with another playful snarky remark. 

Though he wonders how dangerous things could get, Jongho thinks this could get interesting. 

The semester continues smoothly, the only change being that Jongho being absent from the office more often due to his other commitment to soccer. You remember him telling you he had quite a big match coming up, the sparkle in his eyes bright and twinkling whenever he talks about said sport. 

If he wasn’t in classes, he’d be off for training, hopping into the office from time to time to pass Professor Choi marked scripts and reports. Prof Choi pretty much didn’t mind—he stated as long as Jongho did his job, he could be free to do what he wanted outside of being a teaching assistant.

Needless to say, the office was mostly Prof Choi and you, now even more time spent with him with Jongho mostly being absent. By then, the both of you had grown so accustomed to being in each other’s presence that banters amongst each other became the norm—the both of you competing with each other with unserious remarks, laced with almost flirtatiousness, just to see who would back down first. 

Then came the proximity—since Prof Choi would wander over your desk as if he had all the free time in the world, he would somehow strike up another conversation with you, leaning over to hear you better, his arm bumping into yours to look over at the papers you were grading to check if you were doing them correctly. But what he absolutely adores the most is when you’d roll over to his desk to pester him with your questions—sometimes even testing him on his own content. 

He likes the way he gets to be closer to you. He likes the way your shoulders touch his when you lean in to push the paper towards him so he can see the script better. 

He likes the way you would finally look up and meet his eyes when you’re done formulating your question, waiting to hear his opinion.

Today is no different—Professor Choi being so used to the notion that he would only be seeing you in the office, the corner of his lips pull upwards at the thought of the types of banter you would have with him, the kinds of shenanigans you would bring into the office.

He hears your knock at the time you would always arrive, watching the way the door opens, and your head popping from the door, as you greet, “Hi Prof!” 

“Good morning, y/n”, he would greet back, sipping on his morning coffee. 

You walk over to his desk, dropping his tuna rice ball. “Here you go. Enjoy your breakfast, Prof!”

“You can stop calling me Prof”, Prof Choi suddenly says, twirling the pen in his hand. For a second, you wonder what triggered the sudden change. You’ve been calling him Prof since day one, pretty much used to it already, the only time you didn’t was when he—never mind. The thought of it is making your face flush again. 

“Is there something else you want me to call you?” You ask, trying to calm your heartbeat down when that memory suddenly resurfaces. 

“You can call me San. I’m fine with that. I know you’re still my teaching assistant but we’ve been working closely. I think it’s fine to drop the Prof honorific.”

You try out. 

“Sure thing San”, you reply. “Though it’s gonna take a while for me to get used to this.”

“If you’re able to cuss in front of me, calling me by my name should be the least of your worries, y/n”, San teases.

You raise your hand, feigning a stance ready to smack him before you lower your arm, listening to the way San laughs before rolling your eyes and sinking into your desk. 

The day marches on as normal—attending a class or two with Jongho before he’s whisked away to his soccer practice, leaving just the two of you for the rest of the day. 

San is leaning at your desk again, looking at you typing out your report. He squints slightly before he leans down to your shoulder, his finger pointed at one of the paragraphs, asking you about the content. You answer him, and when you turn your head once you’re done, you find yourself looking at San’s side profile mere inches away—his sun-kissed skin, his pretty lashes, his thick, well-trimmed eyebrows, and the way his lips protrude out a little—he always looked like he’s pouting in the most adorable way. 

That’s when you realise a problem seemed to be bubbling up to the surface, try as you might to ignore it, repress it—that you’re falling for your professor. Fast. 

You snap back to reality, finally aware of how loud your heart is beating against your rib cage, and your hand flies up in instinct as a divider between you and San. San blinks at the sudden movement, confused. 

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He’s not moving. 

“I think I’ve got something on my face.”

San cocks an eyebrow. “You do? Let me check-“ 

His palm covers yours, bringing it down to the table, and you’re kicking yourself for sprouting such a self-sabotaging lie.

Why? Because now San has his hand on yours on top of his face in full view of yours, his eyes meeting yours before his gaze flutters around your face, checking for whatever hell you said was on your face. 

His gaze meets yours and for a split second, something else glints in his eyes. 

The door swings open, and San straightens himself up, slightly irritated at the interruption, leaving you to spin your chair away from San, your hands cupping your cheeks, the heat warming you up against the cold air conditioner. The heat from his hand on yours lingers for a little longer. 

Jongho walks in, his duffel slinging on his shoulder with his shoe bag clipped. 

“Hey, Prof. Hey cutie.” 

San blinks. What did he just call you?

“Hey jjongie. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” You ask, forcing yourself to focus on your colleague instead. 

“Supposedly, yeah, but there was a sudden downpour midway so training got cancelled. Might as well get some work done here”, he shrugs, dropping his bag onto the floor. 

San is wrapping his head around the fact that you and Jongho seem to have pet names for each other. 

“Didn’t miss me too much right?” Jongho teases. “‘Cause I did!”

“That’s a first coming from you jjongie”, you reply, surprising a smile. 

“Of course! It’s been a while, how could I not? We should go eat dinner together sometime.”

San only stares on in silence, pretending to sink back into his grading.

Jongho walks over to your desk, taking his turn to look at your report. San watches the way Jongho’s arm is comfortable over your seat, as he asks you about your report, talking to you as if San wasn’t just behind you seconds before. 

The fact you’re entertaining him—hitting his arm playfully and laughing at his remarks—all the more rouses some kind of irritation in San. It’s like a boiling pot. 

He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jongho leans in to whisper something into your ear although it’s bugging him so fucking much. For once, he wishes Jongho’s training didn’t cancel. 

“Oh right before I forget”, Jongho mutters, rushing back to his desk, digging through his bag. He walks back over with a paper in hand and places it before you. You glance down and your face brightens up—it’s a ticket to his game. 

“For real?” You exclaim, your eyes bright, taking the ticket in your hands. “I’ll definitely make time for you.”

“I’ll score goals for you, kay?” Jongho teases, his eyes glancing at San, who is progressively looking more irritated. 

“Ah, Is San not going?” 

“San? Since when were you on first name basis with him?” Jongho wonders aloud, the suspicion only brewing even more. 

“Jongho, don’t you have reports to hand in?” San asks curtly. 

You feel like you are caught in between crossfire for some reason. 

Jongho smiles, then has your head under his arm, which elicits another irritated reaction from your professor. 

You have never had Jongho done this before. In fact, you recall him offhandedly mentioning that he’s never a physical touch person, and that anything with physical touch makes him shudder. 

“Relax, Prof. You’d rather your subordinates get along than not right?”

Just when San is about to reply, Jongho suddenly exclaims. 

“AH, coach is calling me back to the field. Prof, I’ll send you the report by tomorrow okay? See you guys!”, Jongho hums as he runs back to his desktop to turn it off. 

“Has he always been like that?” San wonders aloud, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“I guess. It’s actually what makes him cute.”

“Cute? You think Jongho is…cute?” 

“Is he not? Doesn’t he remind you of a bear? Big and cuddly.”

San clears his throat, and you watch him walk over to your desk, his hand resting on the tabletop. He leans in. 

“So… you find it cute when he gives you pet names?”

“Well, I mean-“

“You find it cute when he plays with your hair?” San curls your locks around his fingers. 

You can’t seem to get words to leave your throat. 

“You find it cute when he has his hands all over you like that?” He’s leaning in even closer this time, arms trapping you at either side.

“Prof-“

“No. It’s sir.”

Your mind is in a whirlwind at the way he’s towering over you, his scent the only thing filling your olfactory senses, the way he’s staring right into you, gaze sharp as a blade. 

“You find it cute when his touches run up your body like this?” His fingers are trailing up your arms, every touch he burns into your skin, and when his thumb pauses at your chin, you realise you’re royally fucked.

Once more, his face is mere inches away from yours. You wonder if you’ll be teased like two previous times before. 

“Of course you don’t. You’d rather I do that to you, right?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Yes, sir.”

His voice is barely a whisper, his eyes downcast, staring at your lips like it’s his reward to claim. 

“Good girl.”

Of course, he claims it.

His kisses are so greedy—his lips prying yours open, and you feel yourself completely give in to him, surrendering whatever resistance, rationale, repression to Choi San. 

You want more—you want seconds. Every swipe his tongue passes your lip, it makes your head float. How does someone taste this fucking good?

He pauses mid-way—barely a couple of seconds, to pull off his glasses and strew them across the desk—then goes back to devouring your lips. 

San would smile in between kisses when he hears your whimpers. He thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you tremble slightly at his touch. It all goes straight to his cock. 

He thinks you’ll be even more adorable when he ruins you. 

When San pulls back, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, watching your glazed-out expression with amusement. 

"I'd love to continue messing you up, but I have a meeting to attend. I’ll deal with you later, sweetheart. See you next week.”

His touch lingers on your chin for a couple of seconds longer before he pulls away and shifts to walk back to his desk, leaving your heartbeat wild and erratic, and your thighs squeezed tighter.

Since then, that was all you ever thought about—the slight smile before his lips collided with yours, the way his words rang in your ears. You could barely meet his eyes. 

In more instances than one and with any chance given to him, he’d close up any physical distance he had with you. Worried that your emotions would bubble and overflow when he does that, you developed a habit of avoiding his eye contact. 

Even after classes, you swore he was casting you glances even with lines of students waiting to talk to him. 

“Did you piss Prof off or something?” Jongho asks as he shuts his laptop. 

“Why are you asking?”

He shrugs. “It’s just that he’s been eyeing you down like a hawk recently. Did something happen between the both of you?”

You freeze when the flashbacks of the taste of his lips return to your memory when you remember how hungry he looked just wanting to devour you. 

“Y/n?”

You blink, then force yourself to meet Jongho’s eyes. 

“No. Nothing happened. At least I hope I didn’t make any mistakes.”

“You’re fine. There’s a reason why the department chair chose his teaching assistants.”

You laugh softly at his words.

But when you hear San’s voice from behind you, you almost jump. 

“Y/n, Jongho, the both of you can wrap up here and head back to the office”, he instructs. You feel his warmth radiating from behind, and it only makes your heart jump at the proximity. 

You watch Jongho slowly pack up, small conversations sparking between the both of you about his soccer practice. 

You glance at the door. San isn’t back yet. 

“I think it’ll take him awhile to be back. The students there seem to really like him.” 

No doubt, the female students for this class seemed a lot more assertive, almost always demanding all of San’s time. Well, not that it should matter. It’s not as if he should mean anything-

“Y/n? Are you okay? You seem pretty off recently. Even Prof’s pretty worried”, Jongho’s voice grounding you back to the cold office. 

You force a smile and shake your head. 

“I’m fine. I guess it’s just so much workload to deal with.” 

Jongho places his hand on your shoulder in comfort, “You’re doing fine. You know you can approach either of us if you’re struggling right?”

You feel comforted, even though your messy thoughts weren’t even about the workload, so you return an assured smile before waving Jongho off for his soccer practice. 

You’re wondering what you’re feeling nervous about, because when the door of San’s room opens, you jolt slightly. 

“You’re still here?” You hear San ask. 

“Yeah. Need to reply to some emails and double-check some of their assignments.” Not a total lie. It’s the swirling feelings he’s been giving you whenever that day surfaces in your mind, the small bouts of attention he pays you and the touches he lets linger a little too long that’s all a dopamine rush in you. You can’t help but want more. But in the same breath, meeting his gaze will allude doom for you. 

San nods as he sits back at his desk, going right back to his computer. The silence continues for awhile and you’re surprised that you’re even able to concentrate. 

“Y/n”, you hear San call you. 

Your gaze doesn’t break from your screen. “Hmm?”

“Come here. Help me look at this.”

You walk over, ignoring the way your heart is just pounding so damn loudly. It’s painfully obvious that San is staring right at your face, and it’s also painfully obvious that you’re avoiding looking at him. 

And it definitely seems to be ticking him off. 

Your eyes stay locked to his screen reading off whatever is on the screen, and nothing is processing in your brain. 

“It looks good”, you curtly reply, trying to ignore the fact that you’re being stared down by a certain professor. You turn away, your eyes still not acknowledging San, only for your professor to stop you in your tracks. 

“Now where do you think you’re going?”

He’s making you face him now. 

You’re still not giving him eye contact. 

“Back to my desk?” You say, looking off into the distance. But San seems to have other plans. 

“You know ‘looks good’ isn’t the feedback I’m looking for, right?”

Shit. You know that clear as day. 

Now San has both his arms trapping you on his desk. 

You somehow still manage to avoid his sharp gaze even when you’re backing up against him, easily letting him corner you.

His belongings are strewn all over the desk when he pins you down. By some miracle, only papers flutter down his desk. 

And you’re finally looking right at him. 

“You’re finally looking at me, y/n”, he states the obvious. “Now tell me, did I do something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t, sir”, you reply curtly. 

He leans in closer. 

“Then why are you avoiding my eye contact?”

You shut your eyes and squeeze them. There’s no pure way out of this—your dirty thoughts are seeping into the smallest crevices of your brain, and the more San is prodding you, the more it makes you throb.

“It’s because that evening when we…” you feel your cheeks burn with every word leaving your lips. 

San is waiting for you to continue. 

“When we kissed…couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“And?”

“It made me want…more.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you’re honest?” He chuckles. “I’m gonna finish what we started sweetheart, like I promised.”

It makes your heart flutter. 

“Am I getting your consent for this?”, San’s voice rings in your ears. You’re finding it hard to focus, especially when his thumb is pushing past the corner of your lips, and you’re just growing wet as fuck. 

This is not right. This is so dangerous. 

“Yes sir”, you reply back, trying to ignore the way your cunt is just tingling from the feeling of San’s thick erection pressing against you.

“That’s my good girl”, he praises before he dives in for a hungry kiss, his fingers roaming around your body, squeezing your tits before he unbuttons your shirt at an agonising pace. He smiles on your lips when he hears your soft gasp, and he presses his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin against your neck, his erection growing tighter against his trousers when he hears you moan and squirm. 

When he’s satisfied with the light marks he decorated down your neck, his lips are pressed against your ear, and his hands are moving dangerously close to your cunt, and inevitably, your bottoms are off in seconds, leaving you in your pretty panties. 

“I would prefer fucking you on my bed instead for the first time, but taking you on my desk? Maybe not too bad.”

Your cunt squeezes at the sound of San cussing. You never thought he’d sound this fucking hot. 

He groans when his fingers press against the soaked patch of fabric hiding your pussy. All that wetness for him. He bunches up the fabric and rubs it against your clit, the friction drawing frustrated whimpers from you, much to his satisfaction. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and it’s driving you crazy.

San’s fingers finally hook against the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs, and pocketing them, much to your shock. 

And he doesn’t give you much time to focus on that because when he pulls his cock out from his unzipped pants, it makes your head spin from how thick Choi San is. 

“Sir, I’m not sure-“

“It’ll fit, sweetheart, like it’s made for me”, is all the warning San gives before he lines up to your hole and pushes his cock in. 

You can’t tell what’s fucking you up more—the way his cock is stretching you open or the San groaning in relief when he finally gets to stuff you full. 

You bat away your tears, his cock so fucking full inside of you, pressing against your walls, being squeezed so perfectly by you. 

God, Choi San thinks he’s in heaven. 

His fingers brush across your cheeks, collecting your teardrops. His eyes lack any ounce of empathy. 

“Aw, are you crying because it feels good? You look so fucking pretty crying when I’m stretching you open.”

You barely find the words to reply to him, all stuck in your throat, your mind only flooded by the way San’s cock is buried in your cunt, your thighs trembling from the pleasure. It’s almost sickening. You know you shouldn’t be doing this—not with your professor, not on his fucking desk, but when he has you wrapped you around his finger and cock fucking the daylights out of you, it’s a temptation you can never resist. 

A soft hiccup escapes past your lips when San pulls out almost all the way, his cock covered in a sheen of slick and precum before he pushes himself in once more, groaning when you clench around him for the nth time. 

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. God, I could just fuck you all day. You’d like that right?”

You’re barely keeping track, eyes rolled to the back of your head while your thighs twitch from the pleasure, but you manage to hold the eye contact, and through blurry tears, you mutter a weak, “Yes sir”. 

“Of course you do”, San hums before he pulls out once more and starts fucking you dumb on his desk. 

No matter how much you try to cover your mouth, bite your tongue or your lip, your moans only come out louder in defiance, the dopamine shooting up your pussy over and over again whenever San’s cock hits your pretty spots. 

Your mind is addicted to the way San’s shirt is buttoned down his chest, his cleavage almost fully out for you to gawk at, the way strands of his hair cling to his forehead because of the sweat, the way his eyes roll back when he feels you squeeze him with every loud fuck, and the way he looks down to you from time to time before he eats up your pathetic moans with hungry kisses. 

He fucked you up so good, you didn’t even realise it until now. 

“S-San”, you manage out a whimper, “please…”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what you’re begging for. 

“Please… you feel so fucking good. I’m gonna cum. It’s so fucking good”, you babble, trying to force your eyes open. 

San can’t help but smirk when his ego is being stroked so nicely like that, especially by you. He’s a good person, of course, he’ll give what his good girl wants. 

His thumb slides south on your body until you feel the ticklish sensation of him on your clit. Cream and precum pooling at the base of his cock makes it even worse for you—with every graze, his finger pressed onto your clit, the knot tightened in your stomach. 

Your nonsensical strings of words only push San to tease you more as he endearingly watches you break slowly when your orgasm builds up. 

Your body twitches, your back arches, your eyes roll back, white splashes beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm burning through you while you cry out San’s name and you twitch pathetically on his cock, letting your cream leak all over his wet cock. 

“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”, you hear San curse. He fucks you through your orgasm, the overstimulation building up. The sensitivity feels so fucking good. 

His hand catches your jaw, and he forces you to meet his eyes. 

“Wanna pump you full of my cum, keep you so fuckin’ full for days on end,” he huffs, “but not now, sweetheart.”

Not that you minded, but there’s a strange tinge of disappointment ringing at the back of your head. 

San thrusts into you a couple more times before he pulls out, his thick and wet cock resting on your pelvis, twitching as his hand takes over. 

Nothing can beat Choi San’s fucking face when he cums. He looks like he’s in fucking heaven, and he’s tearing up the sky because of you. His fingers leave light marks on your thighs, you hear him groan at such a low tone that your cunt flutters uselessly against the air. Translucent spurts land on your skin, but it barely registers in you—you’re too busy swooning over the way your Professor just cummed over your body. 

San’s high dies down, and he catches his breath, casting you a glance, red dusting his cheeks, before he reaches out for the tissue box to clean you up. 

A quick kiss on the lips before he goes on to collect all the papers all over the floor.

That night he drives you home, filling the space with light conversations as if he didn’t just railed you on his desk. 

It’s only when you reach home that you realise one important thing—San still has your panties. 

You know you shouldn’t be telling secrets to your colleague, especially when it’s about your fucking boss. But here you are, facing Jongho, who has his arms crossed in front of you. 

“What’s up with you and Prof?” You predict the words that leave his lips. 

You hesitate to tell him, unsure how you should even say it, where to even start. 

The worst part you knew clear as day was that nothing changed since that day. You chalked it off as San being swamped with assignments to deal with, that’s why the topic was never brought up again, but something still irked you. The only comfort you had was that the semester was ending, and so was your term as San’s teaching assistant. 

Maybe it was how it was meant to be. Just nothing more than that.

But when you realise the dreaded feeling prickling at the back of your eyes, you knew you were fucked. 

“I don’t know how to even start jjong”, you sigh. Jongho scrunches his eyebrows. 

You watch his expression switch from one to the other. You expected him to freak out at you, yell at you for unprofessionalism or something, but he doesn’t. 

“It’s so fucked up. But I just can’t help but wonder if he feels anything”, you mutter. The thought of you not being the only one he’s doing this with makes your stomach churn. But somehow, in the most twisted ways, confiding Jongho made you feel slightly better. 

“Well, looks like we’ll have to play that card I guess”, Jongho shrugs. “But you should mentally prepare yourself for the results, that’s all I gotta warn you. I just need your consent to play along.”

It’s a risky bet you’re playing, but drastic times called for drastic measures, right?

As the semester closes to its end, so does the workload. San feels a lot lighter on his shoulders, and while he’s grateful for his teaching assistants for lifting a significant amount of workload off him, the end of a semester meant the end of the working relationship between him and his teaching assistants. He usually doesn’t feel that much, considering he has had many teaching assistants in the past, but for some reason, he feels a sense of discomfort lodged in his stomach when he thinks about having to let them go.

Especially one of them. 

He sighs, removing his glasses from his nose and shutting his eyes while reviewing the exams. San feels like a fucking idiot when his eyes land on your empty desk, his frustration bubbling when you cross his mind again. 

Even though he pretends to keep himself busy by flooding his mind with work, somehow, you would bubble to the surface once more, pushing him into the pits of frustration when he’s reminded of the way you get a kick arguing and refuting him just to get a reaction out of him, the way you taste like sweetest thing on earth he’s ever tried and the way you completely unravel when San fucks every single thought out of you—

He bites his cheek. 

No. He has to keep it professional. At least, until the term is over. 

He just doesn’t know how to tell you. 

He knows he’s entered deep waters when he crossed the line that evening, the sight of you undone right before him snapping all his rationale. More than anything, he’s suffering the withdrawals, maybe that’s the punishment he has to bear. 

He glances at the colourful ticket at the corner of his desk. It’s Jongho’s big game. Even though he usually doesn’t let himself intertwine with his subordinate’s personal interests, it’s hard not to. 

In addition, you’ll be there. Maybe he’d snag you after the game and talk to you properly. 

The meeting ran overtime, San glances down at his silver watch, realising he’d missed almost thirty minutes of Jongho’s game. Despite the exhaustion, he pushes it aside and heads to the stadium. 

He watches the brightly lit scoreboard as he takes a seat on the bench, Jongho’s team is in the lead by one point. 

Somehow he gets wrapped up in the game, cheering when Jongho’s team takes championship as the benches all burst into loud cheers too. 

He gets up to leave, already thinking of drafting a text to congratulate Jongho in his head, maybe get him a small congratulatory gift on the side. 

Then he spots you, just rows below. Now, he’s walking down as if on instinct, to get to where you are.

San pushes past the crowd to approach you. He’ll offer to drive you back—he knows it’s all an excuse but anything to get you into his space once more. 

His arm outstretched, reaching out to tap your shoulder, then suddenly stopping when he sees Jongho appear right in front of you. That’s fine. San could just congratulate him at the same time—

Which all of those thoughts immediately disintegrate when he watches Jongho cup your cheeks with his hand, his eyes widening in complete silent horror as Jongho leans into you for a kiss. 

You seriously doubt that Jongho’s plan would work. Didn’t San decide not to come anyway? You heard it with your own ears too. 

Nonetheless, you pushed it to the back of your mind, focusing on cheering for your friend, watching the leading scorer jump from one team to the next. You couldn’t help but erupt into cheers when Jongho’s team won, screams echoing through the open stadium. 

You watch Jongho walk up to the benches where you are, and his arms wrap around you, his smile big and bright, competing with the stadium lights. 

“Congratulations, baby bear”, you tease, pushing against his shoulders lightly. Jongho inches close to you. 

“He’s behind you by the way”, Jongho mutters, loud enough for you to hear, but not long enough for you to process, because his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumb pressed against your lips. 

He hears you muffle some kind of question but your lips stay sealed. 

“You owe me one for this,” is the last thing you hear before he leans in. Your eyes widen in shock, and you freeze in your spot, even though his lips don’t meet yours, evidently separated by Jongho’s thumb, his action had caught you off guard.

You barely have the capacity to process what had just happened, and you feel someone’s warmth tightening against your wrist. 

Jongho lets go of you immediately, but you’re staring right at your professor, who is staring right at Jongho with an unreadable expression, with his fingers curled tightly against your wrist. It feels like an eternity since you saw him. He’s not wearing glasses today and his hair is down instead of his usual slicked-back look, donned with a simple dress shirt and tie which framed his wide shoulders so perfectly.

“Congratulations on your win, Choi Jongho. I believe you should be with your team to celebrate right?”

Jongho only smirks back. “Right. See you babe. Thank you, Prof. See you next week.”

Jongho casts you a glance, the mischief twinkling in his eyes before he turns his heel down the stairs and back to the field. 

What the fuck just happened?

And you find yourself staring up at the male before you, his gaze piercing into yours. 

“Prof—San?” You blink. “I thought you weren’t-“

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. Why would I not want to see the cute relationship my teaching assistants have right?” His voice is laced with venom. 

San doesn’t really elaborate further, leading you to his car, sealing your fate once more when the passenger doors close shut. 

He’s all over you. His body is burning up, maybe just as fast as yours is, and it’s making you feel dizzy. His moves are aggressive, impatient and you swear you feel something else too—desperation. 

“S-San—“ you gasp, in an attempt to take control of something.

“It’s sir to you, sweetheart”, his voice low and gentle, but commanding. Goosebumps scatter across your skin, making you shiver in response when his palms slide up your waist. 

You never saw it coming—from the second his hand grabbed yours, pulling you away from Jongho, his eyes locked into yours for a moment before he turns to Jongho, then to the car ride back, where you noticed the way his knuckles turned pale from gripping the steering wheel. On the walk to his car, you asked him where you were going, and all he did was turn to you and reply, “We’ve got things to talk about, don’t we, sweetheart?”

Now you’re becoming undone once more under San’s touches, trapped beneath him like the first time, now at his place, on his fucking couch instead. 

“It was just foolish of me to just let it be, wasn’t it?” He asks. “Fucking you dumb on my desk wasn’t a good enough indicator, was it?”

“S-sir…!”

“And you think it’s cute getting all cuddly with Jongho? Letting him kiss you all over, touch you all over?” San mutters, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his grip tightening slightly and you’re sure he’s about to leave light imprints. 

But oh, was it so fucking exhilarating—the thought of Choi San riled up like that, a sight you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure if fear or excitement running through your veins right now, but what you do know, is that if he finds out that your panties are completely soaked through, you’re fucking done for. 

His lips collide with yours again, branding himself as some kind of oxygen thief when he’s turning your mind into complete mush. 

“I’m not sure if it’s a little game to you sweetheart, but if it is, I think you need a reminder.”

You breathlessly look up at him, and he looks ethereal even when he’s panting and looking pissed as hell. 

“What reminder, sir?” You dare ask back. 

The side of San’s lips tugs upwards. His hand leaves your throat and trails down your blouse, effortlessly unbuttoning the apparel until he tugs it off you, panting at the sight of your tits hugged by your lace bra. Your bottoms are off again on the floor of his bedroom, alongside any ounce of rationale. Your soaked panties are agonisingly pulled off your legs, and before you know it, his hands spread them open too. It takes all of San’s self-control to not stuff you full. At least, not yet.

“It’s my cock you’re gonna cum all over. Even when you have another guy’s lips on yours, it’s my name you’re gonna fucking scream.”

Oh. Oh god. 

The pieces of what Jongho was trying to do suddenly come together, unfortunately, the realisation doesn’t last long because San has his lips greedily on yours again on top of the way his full-blown erection is pressing onto your pussy. 

“Sir”, you manage out a weak mutter when he finally pulls away, trying to press and grind against his clothed dick for some friction or anything to rid the burn that’s going through your body. But San remains still. 

“Use your words since you love using your mouth so much.” Like kissing Choi Jongho. 

Your mind is a complete puddle. 

“I really…fuck. I really need you to fuck me right now, sir”, you beg, red flushing your cheeks, but it’s not from the shame. There’s a feral glint in San’s eyes that you don’t miss. 

“No”, is all he answers, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. 

“Not until I’ve fucked your mouth full, sweetheart.” 

All you can do is watch him speechlessly as he hooks his index finger on the knot of his tie and loosens it, unraveling it back to its original form. 

“Hands together”, he commands you, and you do so immediately, basking in the scent of his cologne while he leans into you, his hands tying knots around your wrists with his tie. “Don’t let it loosen, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now on your knees.” 

You’ve never dropped to your knees so fast.

San forces you to watch him unbutton and lower the fly of his trousers, and you’re just doing your best not to get drool on his expensive carpet. 

When his cock springs out, you’re also forced to watch him fuck his palm at a slow pace, drinking in his groans, slick staining your inner thighs, and the fucking floor next if you don’t do anything. 

His cock is heavy against your cheek when he taps it there, and your tongue slips out of your mouth by instinct, given experimental kitten licks on his slit, before his fingers catch your chin, and he forces you to look up at him. 

“Look at me”, he instructs. 

You do. You do your best not to break the eye contact, trying not to be sidetracked by his big fucking cock, but your eyes can’t help but dart to his appendage. 

“No, keep your eyes on me”, he redirects once more, his fingers fixing your head in place. 

Then he slides his cock into your mouth and pulls out a choked moan from you. 

“That’s it. Good girl”, he grunts when you start bobbing your head, fucking his cock with your mouth. 

His fingers trail to the back of your head, but he’s using all of his strength not to force your head down. 

But as you pick up the momentum, it’s an automatic reaction to push your head down so his cock hits the back of your throat. Your eyes are watering but fuck you feel like you’re in fucking heaven. Your head spins whenever his wet cock is forced down your tight throat, and you break eye contact a few times, which San has to tap your jaw to make you keep eye contact while he fucks your face. 

“I’m cumming, sweetheart. Fuck. Keep that pretty little mouth open for me yeah?” He groans, bucking his hips, letting streaks of warm white paint your throat and mouth, watching the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes, taking his cum in your mouth like a good girl. His good girl. 

He smudges his thumb against the corner of your lips before his arms carry you up, only to dump you on the couch.

Your back is on the couch again, hands still tied behind your back and legs up with San pressing his body weight on you.

He props your leg on his shoulder, and he stretches you open inch by inch. You gasp when he fills you up, your walls immediately clenching around him. 

“So fuckin tight for me, sweetheart. You take me so well.”

His thrusts are growing more aggressive mixed in with the possession that’s bleeding in and it’s setting your whole body on fire. Your words are caught in your throat when he’s buried into you to the hilt. He groans at the way your pussy is fluttering pathetically against him. 

It feels so fucking good that nothing but stars engulf your vision when his cock stuffs you full to the hilt again. His name leaves your lips like a mantra on top of broken moans and whimpers, and it only makes San fill up the space in your pussy all the more better. 

His shoulders are so wide that he’s towering over you, his fingers forcing you to face him whenever you’re drifting because of the pleasure, his eyes feral when you look so fucked out for him. And when he combines his heavy thrusts with a squeeze around your throat, it makes your mind shut off and your cunt cream all over his dick.

“Good girl, looking all so fucked out for me.”

 His cock is hitting all the perfect spots, and it’s driving you insane with the knot tightening in your stomach at such a fast pace. You think you’re sliding off the couch but San isn’t letting you—especially not when his thrusts are keeping you on the couch. His name continues to leave your lips in broken moans every time he fucks you. 

San snakes his fingers to your scalp and he tugs sharply, enough to force you to look up at him. You’re tearing up again, and it feels so fucking good with the way he’s keeping your hair tugged while he fucks the ever-loving shit out of you.

“My name does sound much better when you’re crying it doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

You choke back a moan when he hits your g-spot once more.

“Y-yes sir.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“Full. So full sir. Want more. Please. Need you to ruin me”, you beg once more, your mind floating in an endless euphoria.

“Oh, I definitely will”, San hums, watching in sheer pleasure as your eyes roll back when his cockhead presses perfectly against your g-spot over and over.

Before you realise it, your orgasm hits you like fucking train, spreading through your body like a fucking wildfire, engulfing every crevice of your body. 

He’s gonna break you, and you’re fucking loving it. 

“San-“, you cry out, not registering the way he’s wiping the tears off your eyes. “So good. You feel so good. Cumming so much-“ 

“I know, sweetheart. It feels so fucking good doesn’t it?” He asks with a smile, satisfied when you nod frantically while he rubs your thighs.

Your thighs are shaking from how good this all feels, cream staining your inner thighs and his cock when he pulls out. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart”, San reminds you. 

He turns you over, keeping one hand on your tied hands, while the other pressing your head against the back of the couch. He lines his cock back to your cunt, pushing into your hole once more. You choke on your moans again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes until he’s fully seated in you once more. 

The sounds are even wetter now, especially when you’re overstimulated, pussy just being so perfectly abused by Choi San. You fucking love the way his hands are around your neck, forcing you against the cushions when he fucks you dumb from the back. 

Your stomach is in knots once more, the feeling building up faster than the previous time, and all you can mutter is that it feels so good. San thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re not having banters with him and being this cock drunk for him. 

Then he pulls you off the couch, letting you catch a breath before he sits you on his lap, his cock still buried in your cunt, and starts bouncing you off his cock from below.

He alternates between melting your brain with his pornographic moans right at your ear and planting more love bites down your jaw. 

“Gonna cum again. You feel so fucking good in me. Oh god”, you hiccup through your tears, the sensitivity pushing your limit. 

“Cum as hard as you want, sweetheart. I’ll let you milk me dry, fill you up so fucking good that you’ll be leaking with my cum for the next two days.” 

That was enough to set you off. Your pussy convulses when your second orgasm hits, fireworks bursting in your eyelids, long drawn-out cries while San fills your tight cunt with his warm and thick cum, while his groans fill up in your ears. You feel his fingers massaging your thighs, coaxing you from your high. 

You’re dizzy, and light-headed as your head slumps against his shoulders, too spent to acknowledge the male behind you leaving more marks down your neck. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” San breaks the momentary silence, well aware that his softening cock is still in you. 

Your hand flies up to his chest to stop him, even though you’re still recovering from seeing stars. 

“We need to talk-“

“After we clean up”, he cuts you off, lifting you off his cock and carrying you bridal style to his bathroom. 

But you’re stubborn. 

“N-no. It wasn’t what you thought it was”, you say, feeling your tears well up in your eyes on top of the weight. 

The prickles are starting to form at the bottom of San’s heart, but he’s more focused on trying to hose you down with warm water. But he’s listening you run your mouth, not that he minded. 

“We didn’t kiss”, you reiterate. 

Now he’s just confused. He stares at you. 

“We just had sex, y/n”, San reminds you, trying not to let the red reach his cheeks. 

“No—I mean Jongho and I. We didn’t kiss”, you clarify.

San doesn’t really know if he should believe your words or his eyes, but now he’s focused on lathering your hair and body. 

“That wasn’t what I saw”, he replies, avoiding eye contact. 

“That’s cause we did this-“ you huff, turning his head to face you, imitating the way Jongho had slid his thumb between your lips and his, demonstrating San the fake kiss. 

San only stares at you wordlessly when you pull back, only more questions than answers. 

“But why would he do that for?”

“He was trying to rile you up.”

“For what?”

“To see if you felt anything for me?”

“By kissing you?”

Oh god. It felt like the more you explained, the more San was getting the wrong ideas. You let your head sit in your hands, unsure if it’s from the embarrassment or the fact that you don’t even know where to start. 

“It wasn’t a kiss, Choi San”, you groaned, your hands leaving your face, suddenly self-conscious that San is staring intently at you. “After we, um, fucked the first time, you acted like nothing happened, and I felt like shit about it, and I told Jongho and then…” you trail off, feeling your cheeks heat up again. It’s probably the hot water, at least that’s what you try to convince yourself with.

“I don’t kiss people I’m not in love with, San”, you sigh in defeat. Your eyes are downcast, but you feel his fingers cup your cheeks, and his lips press onto yours. You swear you could go another round again. 

The silence hangs in the air for a while, only the sounds of the shower filling the emptiness when he pulls back. 

“I didn’t do anything since after that evening because I wanted to properly tell you after the term ended.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I’m in love with you, too.”

You blink. Somehow that shocked you more than the both times he fucked your brains out. 

You don’t answer him because your head is just swarming with so many thoughts, and San lets you do so, satisfied that he’s finally have you quieten down so he can finish washing you up. 

Even when he’s dressed you in his oversized hoodie, San peppers you with kisses, basking in the way you sometimes cover his face with your hands to stop him, which only rouses him to continue to attack you with his lips.

San’s arms are tight around you when the both of you are finally on his bed. You smell like his favourite body soap and he can’t seem to get enough of it—nuzzling against the crook of your neck, muttering sweet nothings. You think this is probably your favourite version of Professor Choi. 

Your fingers twirl around his splayed-out locks, and you speak. 

“Prof Choi”, you tease, and San looks up, and it’s the first time you actually see him pout—it almost makes you combust. 

“I told you to stop calling me that”, he frowns, burying his face, feigning trying to cut off physical contact from you, which only makes you laugh in response. 

“I just wanted to disturb you”, you respond, trying to yank him back into your arms. “I do have a question though.”

His head pops up from his pillows and he stares at you, waiting for you to speak. 

“When did you realise you had feelings for me?”

He pauses, giving himself a couple of minutes to think. 

“The moment I received your teaching assistant application.”

📚 Bonus Epilogue 📚

“Prof Choi!” One of his teaching assistants calls out to him. 

He turns his head and attention to her, pushing up his glasses. 

“Yes?” 

“I need help with this part of the assignment. Could you help me check that I’ve marked it correctly?”

San nods, taking the papers from her. 

As he scans through her work, the teaching assistant’s eyes glance down at the band hugging his ring finger. 

“Prof, you’re married?”

San pauses his writing to glance at the glistening gold on his finger, and a small smile spreads across his cheeks. 

“You know, I used to wear a ring on my ring finger so students would stop asking me if I was married or not.”

She raises her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued. “So you’re not?”

“I am.”

Her eyes brighten, invested in her handsome professor’s love story. 

“Tell me more then”, she asks. 

San scoffs playfully, turning his gaze to her. 

“All I can tell you is that she’s always been my favourite.”

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @ywtf @woojirang @yuyusgirl

@jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie

network: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[honeytonedhottie]

celebrity energy⋆.ೃ࿔*:･💅🏽

so i got an ask about this a while ago and i wanted to make a post about it but i went on hiatus 😭 so im making the post now. thank you to the anonie who asked the question that inspired this post and i hope you see this cuz it answers ur ask...💬🎀

THE TRIPLE C'S ;

while making the notes for celebrity energy (the big C) and i was able to umbrella it to three main points. those points being confidence, cuntiness, and charisma.

confidence ; celebrities need to have undeniable confidence in themselves and their abilities. they're famous for a reason and they know that. work on ur self concept and watch ur confidence sky rocket.

cuntiness ; to be cunty is to be feminine and aware of urself. be cunty in the things that u do and the way that u handle urself. to be cunty is to find the perfect balance of inner strength and delicateness. cunt = refined.

charisma ; authenticity is the heart of charisma. be authentic and dont be afraid to take up space.

ALL ABOUT IMAGE ;

to have celebrity you need an image to put forward. this is where the power of social media comes in. your social media is like your brand. in this day and age social media is such a powerful tool not only for networking but also for getting u into places that u wanna get to.

in order to do that though u need to learn how to formulate ur own distinct image and advertise it expertly on social media.

PERSONAL BRAND AND REPUTATION ;

to further touch on those points ur social media IS your brand. this section kind of ties in with the next but im trying to distinguish between the two. so ur personal brand is what u do. so lets say ur rly SUPER smart and ur known for getting A's on like everything.

that is ur personal brand and that comes with a reputation that u may or may not feel obligated to uphold. but its important to uphold a reputation of some sort. with that being said be careful of what u post on ur social media because DIGITAL FOOTPRINT IS REAL. and when people look at ur social media they're seeing a representation of what ur putting out to the world so always be mindful.

WHATS UR SIGNATURE ;

you need something about yourself that’s gonna set you apart. the way that you walk the way that you dress the way that you do ur makeup etc. decide what kind of energy u wanna serve, and SERVE IT. i choose to serve princess energy and i could write a whole separate post on that but find someone who serves that same energy so that u can learn from them.

remember, dont introduce urself as a vibe that u cannot maintain

but back to what we were talking about what is your SIGNATURE. what makes u or people think "yea thats so (insert ur name)" is the way that u talk or the way that u carry yourself. make sure to refine urself and be ur own distinct individual.

and dont be afraid to play around with signatures, ur allowed to have a few or one singular one, dont limit urself and keep trying until u can create the perfect one for you…💬🎀

while on the topic of signatures i wanna touch on STAR QUALITY. learn how to market urself not only as a person but as ur own brand. star quality is the perfect blend of (talent + training + confidence)

POLISH YOURSELF ;

refinement refinement refinement. u need to be studying yourself and you need to be able to see urself from other point of views. seeing urself from other point of views can be so refreshing and useful and it rly helps when ur trying to polish urself.

take impeccable care for urself and constantly show urself that u love urself. polish the way that u talk and the way that u carry yourself so that u can be exuding so much you-energy. its basically taking ur signature and the energy that u exude -> and refining it.

you have to create the energy before fame comes. if u wanna have celebrity energy u have to start getting comfortable with putting urself out there which leads me to my next point...💬🎀

KILL CRINGE ;

when people call u cringe thats like them exposing their fear of being seen and analyzed by the world. they're upset because ur putting urself out there and they're insecure, but thats for them to fix within themselves. so dont take it personally when someone calls u cringe.

furthermore ur fear of being cringe is holding u back because ur always overthinking everything and u won't let urself do anything even if it'll help you because ur worried it might be cringe or ur worried what other people think so nip that in the bud and let urself live! u might have haters but dont let urself be ur own hater.

SOME MORE SOURCES ;

THE IMPORTANCE OF BRANDING

MIRROR WORK + AFFIRMATIONS

[chuulyssa]

🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ ！

BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.

↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck

★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor

!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff

"i love you."

ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.

promptly replies with, "i love you too."

he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking

when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin

and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before

he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too

definitely asks for double suicide later

"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."

"Mhm."

"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.

"Dazai, you already said yes."

"I'll say it again!"

​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.

he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine

poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"

he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside

we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it

will decide to give it a shot tho

100% calls dazai to brag about it

"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"

You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.

"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."

ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.

"i know."

he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc

he's known about this since like soooo long

he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess

went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D

eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie

"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"

He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"

ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.

"eh???"

like chuuya, he's pretty confused too

"are you sure?"

tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster

he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up

also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?

reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world

"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.

"I'll try my best."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to!"

He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.

"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."

ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.

screams

"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"

jumps around everywhere in happiness

you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around

either that or he just faints

he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.

you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3

"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.

"Yes?"

"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"

ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.

no reaction. im sorry

spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work

you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????

will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??

he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work

and that's his way of saying yes

He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.

"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."

"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"

"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[starkwlkr]

you should definitely have Olivia + her brothers do that challenge where it’s like “who’s more lenient” “who’s more strict” and the kids dunk Hugh and Mom head into water or something like that 😭 and then have Mom & Dad do it to them “who is more rebellious” “who asks for more money” “who does their school work” etc

do it for the tiktok | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for the request!! olivia back at it again with the tiktok trends 😭

marvel actress!reader masterlist

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well for starters, you’re not supposed to drown me in the bowl!” You were nervous, but prepared yourself.

“Mom, you have to do it for the tiktok!”

Olivia had the bright idea to do a tiktok trend with her family. She found the audio for the trend then quickly explained the trend to her parents. On the table were two large bowls filled with water. When Olivia explained, you were certain so many things would go wrong. You sat next to Hugh, who was more than ready.

“Alright, are we ready?” Olivia asked everyone. Alex and Reese mumbled a ‘yes’ while Hugh have a thumbs up, you nod. “Okay, lets start.”

“Who’s more strict?”

You were dunked into the water by all three kids without warning. It was fast, but it caught you by surprise. “Oh my god.” You said when you came back up.

“Who’s the messiest?” You and Hugh stayed safe for that question. You were both pretty organized people.

“Who’s is the worse driver?”

You already knew it was coming. Your head got dunked in the water by Olivia.

“I’m not that bad!” You protested.

“Who snores the loudest?” Finally it was Hugh’s turn to get dunked. Water spilled everywhere, some splashing on your clothes.

“I don’t like this game anymore.” Hugh wiped his face off with a napkin.

“Who’s more likely to get arrested?”

None of the kids knew the answer so they didn’t do anything.

“Who’s the cooler parent?”

For that, both you and Hugh went down. At least the kids thought you were cool and that was all that mattered.

It was now the kids turn to be dunked into the water bowls. You added a third one since it was Alex, Reese and Olivia. You and Hugh were more than ready to get some revenge.

“Who’s the messiest?”

Hugh and you put Olivia’s head in the bowl. She was already expecting to be dunked anyways.

“I’m pretty sure she has a coffee pot under her bed. Stop trying to be Nancy Thompson, Liv.” Reese teased.

“Who got into trouble more growing up?”

You dunked Alex’s head, Hugh let you do the honor. You had lost count of how many times Alex’s principal called when Alex was in school. You never received any complaints about Reese, while with Olivia it was just a few.

“I’m pretty sure my teachers hated me.” Alex laughed, grabbing the napkin Hugh passed him to wipe his face off.

“Who asks for more money?”

Since both Alex and Reese had their own, that left Olivia to be the one that somewhat relied on you and Hugh financially. Hugh was the one that dunked Olivia in the water.

“Speaking of asking for money…” Olivia smiled.

“No, I’m not giving you money.” Hugh said.

“Fine, a birkin will do just fine.”

“Who is the most rebellious?”

Easy, none of the kids. (But if you were to ask that question a couple years ago, it would be Alex getting his head shoved into the water.)

“Who is the favorite child?”

For the last question, you and Hugh dunked all the kids’ heads in the water.

@kellyxo1

[cowboybeepboop]

Wild ride

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 5206

Summary: Tyler comforts you through a panic attack after a storm. He then rescues you from your fight with Javi. You take a drive to a hotel and then things get very heated.

a/n: this is entirely a reader insert to the movie bc I thought it would fit so perfectly. Also this is the longest oneshot I’ve ever wrote lmao 😭 Hopefully you enjoy!

When you moved to New York it wasn’t just to get away from the place where your friends all died. It was because you couldn’t live there without feeling guilt about being the reason everyone was out there to begin with. The shame and guilt was burning you, inside and out. All for what? What did it get you? Nothing. If you couldn’t tame a tornado you were going to do everything in your power to help people prepare and get out before it was too late. So when Javi came to you asking for help with storm par, you wanted to tell him no. You wanted to say that there was no way you could ever possibly go back not after what you did.

But when he was explaining how they would be making a perfect 3D scan of the tornado and how it can be used to help save lives, you knew you had to help. He was right. You could get him close enough to the tornado in order to set up the portable units.

As time passes you find yourself more intrigued by the self proclaimed “Tornado Wrangler”, whatever that’s supposed to mean. At the same time though, he’s frustrating. Like all he cares about is chasing the storm and making money instead of realizing how much damage these things cause.

“Javi, we have to help.” You say sternly as he keeps talking about the stupid sensor. “Javi! It’s a small town, they’re going to need all the help they can get, we need to help.” He sighs.

“Alright, alright. I’ll look for it later, okay?” You press a hand to his arm gently. “You made a good call. They really do need our help.” Javi pulls off to the side of the road, taking the keys out. You quickly leave the truck and go off to help.

We worked through the afternoon, finding lost heirlooms, important documents, and small mementos that people had thought were lost forever. Each time, their faces would light up with relief, and I’d feel a small sense of satisfaction, knowing I could make a difference.

The sun had broken through the clouds, casting long shadows over the town. The cleanup was far from over, but the worst was behind us. People were starting to talk again, making plans to rebuild. There was a sense of hope in the air, fragile but growing stronger with each passing minute.

You’re watching Javi and Scott interacting with an old guy and someone who lost their bar. Your eyebrows furrow as they offer him a card. “Didn’t know storm par was in the business of helping people,” you hear the familiar cowboy’s voice ringing through the air.

”Well, from what I see they’re trying to make a difference.” You turn to look at Tyler, wrapping your arms around your upper body.

”That’s one way of putting it,” he narrows his eyes while looking behind you at Javi.

“What?” you clench your jaw.

“Do you even know who you’re chasing for?”, his voice raises slightly. ”How much more do these people got to lose before y’all are done making a difference?” His face tightens as he grinds his teeth slightly.

”Sorry, says the guy setting up shop selling t-shirts and mugs after a storm’s hit.” You turn around before he can answer. Pulling the keys Javi gave you out of your pocket. Right as you’re reaching for the door, Lily yells your name.

”Hey, take some food,” she hands you a brown takeout box and a water bottle.

”Oh, I don’t have any cash on me,” you give a half smile.

”It’s okay, that’s why we're always selling shirts and mugs, so we can help give people food.” You shake your head as your eyes widen slightly.

”Then you should keep it, in case you run out.” She hands you the water bottle.

“At least take the water, stay hydrated.” You nod and tell her to stay safe.

Once you get back to the motel you quickly take a shower. Sitting down on the bed with your laptop you look up “Marshall Riggs” you bite down on your cheek, your eyes closing after you read up on him. Pinching your nose bridge you let out a sigh, closing the device.

There’s a knock at the door, you get up slowly and open it. “Some of Javi’s crew said you were staying down by the rodeo.” You don’t say anything in return so he offers you a small pizza box. “Thought you might be hungry,” you take it and shut the door in his face.

You reopen the door, “Thank you, Tyler.” He smiles sweetly.

“How are you doin’, after all that?” Your head nods softly. “How about I show you something nice, city girl.” He offers you his arm.

”And what’s that?” Stepping out of your room you close and lock the door before taking his arm. He doesn’t reply but instead leads you to the stadium at the rodeo. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden light over the dusty rodeo grounds. The air buzzed with excitement and the scent of grilled food, mingling with the earthy smell of the arena. Families filled the bleachers, kids waving flags and clutching cotton candy, while seasoned rodeo-goers leaned against the rails, hats tipped low, eyes sharp with anticipation.

As the night wore on, the rodeo continued—steer wrestling, bronc riding, and more, each event bringing its own excitement and challenges. The crowd cheered, laughed, and gasped, caught up in the spectacle. In the arena, cowboys were competing in the team roping event. Dust kicked up as the horses thundered forward, riders expertly casting their lassos around the horns of the steers. The crowd roared with approval when a duo managed to secure a flawless catch, the announcer’s voice booming in congratulations.

“So tell me about yourself city girl,” Tyler’s voice is low and gentle.

“You know you keep calling me that,” you turn to him, “ but this isn’t my first rodeo, I grew up here in Oklahoma.” Turning back to the events in front of you.

“Would you look at that, I finally learned something about you.” His lips curve up as he admires your side profile.

Back behind the scenes, in the holding pens, a few of the seasoned ranch hands started to glance nervously at the sky. They could see it now—a line of dark, swirling clouds on the horizon, moving faster than seemed natural. A wind had picked up, too, sharper and colder than it had been just minutes ago. But the rodeo continued, the excitement and noise drowning out any sense of unease.

A leaf falls onto your head, you reach your hand up into the air as you watch the leaves fall around you. “Tyler, the air feels heavy, this isn’t right.”

In the ring, the next event was starting: the barrel racing. A young girl was about to make her run when a sharp crack of thunder boomed overhead, so loud it momentarily drowned out the announcer. The crowd murmured, looking up at the sky as the first raindrops began to fall. But as she rounded the first barrel, the wind hit, strong and fierce, whipping dust and debris across the arena. The rain intensified, turning into a heavy downpour that sent people in the stands scrambling for cover. The announcer tried to keep up the energy, but his voice was lost in the wind. In the distance, a low, ominous rumble filled the air—not thunder this time, but something far more menacing.

There's barely time to react before the rodeo’s emergency siren began to wail, a long, shrill warning that sent a chill down everyone’s spine. People were running, some heading for their cars, others diving for the nearest ditch or sturdy structure. The craze of people began pushing and trampling one another, Tyler quickly grabs a woman who fell. He helps her up to her feet and guides you toward the hotel you’re staying at.

“There! Let’s check for a basement,” you nod as you both run inside. There’s a couple arguing with the clerk, you’re checking around for a doorway that might lead to a basement. Tyler tries to ask the man working the front desk but to no avail. “Outside, there’s an empty pool.” You yell to Tyler, “we can try there” he nods and you begin leading the young mother and daughter out the door, Owen’s and the man follow close behind. Once you get the mother and girl down you jump in. Directing them toward the open piping. “Hold on there, cover her head.”

You grasp onto the pipes holding on tight as you feel Tyler’s chest pressing against your back. He keeps his hands tight around the bars, he keeps himself tight against you making sure you don’t move.

“You’re gonna be okay, keep holding on. I’ve got you. I’ve got you” he’s whispering into your ear. You tightly squeeze your eyes shut feeling as though you’re being transported back to the day when you lost everything.

It started with a flutter in your chest, like the faint rustling of wings. You tried to ignore it, chalking it up to nerves, but the flutter didn’t go away. Instead, it grew stronger, spreading through your body like wildfire. Your breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, each breath feeling like it wasn’t enough, like there wasn’t enough air.

It started with trembling hands, and then your whole body followed, shaking uncontrollably. Feeling lightheaded, as if the ground beneath you had suddenly disappeared, leaving you suspended in a void. My chest tightened, squeezing tighter and tighter, making it even harder to breathe.

As quickly as the storm had begun, it passed over. Tyler wraps his arms around you. “Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your body continues to shake as you can’t seem to breathe. “It’s okay, just follow my breathing,” he turns you around so your face is in his chest.

”Deep breaths, in and out,” Tyler gives gentle directions as he rubs his palms over your arms.

”I think I’m okay now..” your voice is soft and hoarse as you choke the words out. His cold, rough hand gently brushes the hair from your face.

“You look like you’ve been through hell tonight.” He says, while helping you out of the pool. You stifle a small laugh in response. Boone and the rest of his crew come up to the pair of you, asking if you’re both alright.

“Y/N, baby. Are you okay?” Javi appears behind you, his hands gently pressing into your hips as he pulls you into a tight hug.

Tyler feels a pang of jealousy as he watches Javi slide his hands lovingly around your hips and pull you into the hug. He tries to shake the feeling, reminding himself that it’s not his place to care. Still, he can’t help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him.

“I came as soon as I heard,” his eyes filled with worry as you looked up at him. “Where did you hide out? The pool?” You just nod in response, finding comfort in his arms. Javi keeps repeatedly asking if you’re okay, running his fingers through your hair and resting one hand on your waist.

“Yes, I’m okay. It’s okay,” you pull away from him, giving a soft smile. “I was with Tyler the whole time, he made sure I was okay.” He nods but his eyes flicker behind you.

“Javi, your little girlfriend is fine, now let's get to work.” Scott says loudly, catching the attention of Tyler and Lily. “Apparently this place was family owned so I’m gonna start working on numbers. Riggs is gonna want those first thing.” His voice and face are both emotionless and cold, sending a slight shiver down your spine.

“Wait wait,” you hold onto his arm. “What exactly is Riggs getting out of all your data collection?”

“What’s the matter?” He scratches his neck and awkward expression flashing over his features.

“Is profiting off of people’s tragedy part of your business plan? Why are you doing this?” You pull away from his body.

“Riggs is offering these people a way to move on with their lives.” He takes a step back from you, his voice raising slightly.

“Swooping in and taking advantage of people, who have just lost everything” you take a deep breath to steady your shaky voice “You have no idea what that’s like”

“I don’t know what that’s like?” His fist clenches “How about losing three of my best friends while you were trying to land a big fat grant for your science project?”

Your eyes fill with fresh tears as you look up at him, lip quivering. “Take your keys, I’m done.” You toss them at his feet walking off as fast as you can. Finding yourself drawn to Tyler and his wrangler team.

Tyler witnessed the whole exchange, and his protective instinct flares up again. He watches you stomp away from Javi, a mixture of anger and concern etched on his face. He notices the tears in your eyes and the wobble in your lip. He steps forward and places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

“Can you just take me somewhere please?” Your voice trembles while Javi yells after you. Asking you not to leave like this.

Tyler shoots a warning glare over his shoulder at Javi before turning back to you. “Of course, darling. Anywhere you want to go.” Owen’s voice is soft and soothing, a stark contrast to his rough exterior.

He gently takes your elbow, steering you away from Javi, and his crew. Tyler leads you over to his Truck in the parking lot where the motel once was, his hand still on your elbow. Tyler opens the passenger door and guides you onto the seat, shutting the door before making his way around to the driver's side.

A sigh escapes your lips as you relax into the seat. You softly massage your nose bridge keeping your eyes squeezed shut as a tear escapes one of your eyes.

Tyler watches you silently as you try to regain your composure. He can sense the pain and hurt radiating off of you, and he wishes he could take it all away. After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Hey, look at me for a second.” He puts his hand on your knee rubbing small circles into your skin.

You open up your eyes, turning to look at him. Your lip still quivering slightly. Tyler’s heart aches as he looks into your tearful eyes. He reaches out and gently wipes the tear away with his thumb, his rough hands surprisingly tender against your face.

“Hey, you don’t need to worry about anything right now. You’re gonna stay with me tonight, okay?” His hand travels down your cheek as he leans over and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. Before he starts the car he reaches into the backseat pulling out one of his hats, putting it on with his signature smile.

“You know, you deserve way better than that,” he turns the keys in the ignition. “You can do way better than him anyway.” You giggle while brushing your teary eyes.

“Do you think Javi and I are a couple?” Your once sorrow filled eyes light up with your laugh. A small smile tugs at the corner of Tyler's mouth as he watches you laugh. The sight of your smile warms his heart, and the pang of jealousy eases a bit.

“I mean, he seemed pretty possessive of you back there. And the way he was touchin’ up on you…” he lets his voice trail off, his jaw clenching slightly at the memory.

“Don’t tell me that makes you jealous,” a small smirk decorates your lips. You lean closer to his side, turning your body to further face him.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you lean closer to him, a wave of electricity coursing through his veins. He tries to keep his cool, but the hint of possessiveness flickers in his eyes once again.

“Jealous? Me?” he scoffs, trying to convince himself more than you.

Your eyes light up “Oh you’re totally jealous,” you brush your fingers over the skin on his arms, moving your hand to meet his.

A shiver runs down Tyler’s spine as your fingers travel along his skin, his heartbeat quickening at your touch. He tries to maintain a cool demeanor, but the flutter in his chest gives him away.

“Jealous? Of that jackass?”, his voice a little rougher this time. He looks down at your hand in his, noticing how small and delicate it looks against his own, rough and calloused hands. He swallows hard, fighting the urge to interlace his fingers with yours.

“Is that so?” You interlock your fingers with his as you lean over to kiss his temple. “It’s okay to be jealous, just tell me you don’t like seeing other men touching me,” you whisper into his ear, your voice filled with amusement.

Tyler takes a sharp breath as you interlace your fingers with his, his hand clamping tight around yours. “It does make me jealous,” he admits, his voice a gravelly whisper. His free hand squeezes the steering wheel, the muscles in his arm flexing tightly. “Alright, I don’t like seeing other men touchin’ you.” He brushes his thumb over the top of your hand.

A blush quickly rises up your face as you squeeze his hand firmly. Resting your head against his shoulder you bite down on the inside of your cheek. “Are we almost to a hotel?” Your heart races as you feel the muscles in his arm flexing.

Tyler glances out the window at the passing scenery, trying to distract himself from the feeling of you resting against his shoulder. He clears his throat before speaking, his voice still low and rough.

“We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.” He rubs his thumb over your knuckles, the gentle movement betraying the tension in his body. He can’t help but steal a glance down at you, taking in your blushing face and the way you bite down on your lip. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and press his lips against yours.

Using your free hand you run your fingers over his thigh, letting your mind wander as you think about your plans for the night. Trailing your hand closer and closer to his hips teasingly.

Tyler’s breath hitches as you run your fingers along his thigh, his body tense as you trail your hand closer to his hips. His mind starts racing with impure thoughts, visions of you pinned beneath him, your skin against his. He swallows hard, his muscles tensing further as he tries to control himself.

“You’re playin’ a dangerous game, you know that?” his voice low and rough, almost coming out as a growl.

“Yeah?” You run your fingers over his golden belt buckle, “I like dangerous games,” your tongue poking out as you lick your bottom lip.

Tyler swallows hard when you touch his golden belt buckle, his body shuddering under your touch. He shifts in his seat, trying to hide the effect you’re having on him while also struggling to keep his eyes on the road.

“Oh yeah? How dangerous are you willing to go?” he asks, his voice thick with desire. He glances down at your tongue on your lip, his eyes darkening as he imagines what it would feel like against his skin.

“That depends, love,” you press soft kisses into his neck, moving your hand from his, resting it on his chest. “How far are you gonna wanna go?” Your eyes flicker to the hotel sign as the truck pulls into the parking lot.

Tyler lets out a shaky breath as you pepper kisses along his neck, his heart stuttering at the feeling of your lips on his skin. He places a hand over yours on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart thundering beneath your touch.

“Damn, darlin’, you’re really testing my limits right now.” he manages to say, his voice a growl. “But if it were up to me I’d go as far as you’d let me.”

He looks out the window as the truck pulls into the hotel parking lot, his mind racing with all the possibilities that the night holds. He leaps out of the truck running to your side to open the door for you.

“Well, you better hurry up and find us a room then,” you shut the door behind you. You pull the hat from his head, placing it on yours.

Tyler watches you stride ahead of him, his eyes drinking in the sight of his hat sitting on your head. He adjusts his jeans, trying to hide the stiffness growing in his groin as he follows you up to the hotel check-in desk.

“You’re a damn tease, you know that?” he mutters to you as he gets the room keys from the attendant. You flash him an innocent smile as you step into the elevator.

“But you’re too cute when you’re flustered.” Looking up at him you press both hands against his well-built abs. You slip your thigh between his legs as he reaches for the buttons on the elevator, pressing into his groin.

Tyler’s breath hitches at the feel of your hands on his stomach, his muscles flexing under your touch. His heart nearly pounds out of his chest as your thigh brushes against his stiffness, a guttural groan escaping his lips at the contact.

“Jesus, darlin'...you’re gonna be the death of me.” he pants, the words thick with lust. He struggles with the elevator buttons, his hands fumbling as his mind becomes increasingly clouded with need.

You stand up on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear “That’s the plan,”. You move one hand up to his jaw, pulling his face to yours. “Are you gonna kiss me yet?” You mumble.

Tyler swallows hard as you tease his ear with your hot breath, his body growing taut with desire. He looks down at your face, his gaze fixated on your lips as you speak. The words send a shiver down his spine, his restraint slipping by the second.

“You want me to kiss you, darlin’?” his lips hover just above your own. He runs a thumb across your lower lip, his eyes darkened by lust.

“Tyler, I want you to do much more than just kiss me.” Your arms wrap around his neck as you press your chest against his. “Please,” you breathe out. The elevator dings as you get to the floor of your room.

Tyler’s control snaps at your words, a low growl escaping his lips as you press against him. He grabs your waist, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you close, the pleading tone of your voice nearly undoing him.

“Don’t gotta ask me twice, darlin’” He mutters, his voice low and gravelly. He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you out of the elevator and towards your room. You giggle into his ear while he unlocks the door.

Tyler grins at the sound of your giggles, his chest rumbling with a satisfied chuckle. He kicks the hotel door open, his eyes locking on the queen-sized bed in the center of the room. He sets you down on the edge of the bed, towering over you as he places his hands on your thighs. You both kick your shoes off really quickly before getting back to it.

Your hand goes to the back of his neck as you pull his face to yours. You kiss him with hunger. Your free hand sliding up his shirt as you feel his smooth abs.

Tyler groans deep in his throat as you pull him towards you, his body responding instantly to your touch. He devours your lips with a primal need, his tongue exploring your mouth as he presses his body up against yours. His muscles twitch under your hand, fire spreading through his veins as you glide your fingers across his abs.

“Goddamn it, Y/N… you're makin' me crazy.” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. He kisses you again, his hands roaming up your thighs, tracing the curves of your body with rough yet tender caresses.

Your hands trail down his abdomen, landing on his belt buckle once again. Your fingers fumble with his belt before successfully pulling it out. Breaking the kiss you quickly remove your shirt, throwing it to the corner of the room.

“Mm Ty…” sucking on your bottom lip as you lean back on your hands while looking up at him seductively.

Tyler sucks in a sharp breath, his body tensing under your touch. Once you remove your shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath, his gaze trails over your body, his eyes darkened by lust. He watches you lean back on the bed, your eyes locking with his in a sultry gaze.

“Mmm darlin’...” you sit up and pull him closer by the loops on his jeans, his strong legs coming between your own, spreading them apart. Lifting up his shirt you press kisses all over his tanned skin.

He reaches his hand out to touch your exposed skin, his fingers gently tracing your collarbone. “Then why don’t you do something about it baby?” You ask in a low tone.

His hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer as you spread your legs even wider for him. “Oh baby, you don't know what you're gettin' yourself into” he whispers, his voice rumbling with need.

He suddenly grips your hips tightly and flips you onto your back, his body hovering over yours as he pins you against the bed. Reaching up you pull his shirt over his head almost moaning at the sight of his toned body.

He smirks as he watches your eyes rake over him, his ego growing at your reaction. “You like what you see, Y/N?” He asks, his voice rough with desire as he looks down at you, his body pressing against yours.

“Most definitely,” you capture his lips in a deep kiss, maneuvering to put him on his back, straddling his hips. Moving back you unbutton his jeans and slide the zipper down. Pulling the pants off his hips you smile to yourself as you see how worked up you got him. Your hand slips into his boxers wrapping around his length.

He lets out a guttural moan, body arching into yours at the contact. “Oh God, baby…” he gasps, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets out a string of curses. Tyler's sharp intake of breath was your reward, and you relish in the feeling of power it gives you. He grips the bed sheets tightly as you pull his dick out, wrapping your lips around the tip.

“Fuck,” he moans as you pull off and sit back on the bed, making sure your teasing antics continue. All you really want is for Tyler to take complete control and you know exactly how to make him. With slow, purposeful movements, you remove your bra, freeing your breasts and running gentle hands over your own body, nipples hardening under your touch. Then you sit back, pulling your panties off, giving him a show.

Tyler's breathing quickens, his desire palpable. "Damn it, Y/N, you know what I want," he said, his voice thick with need. "Stop teasing and give it to me."

A slow, seductive smile spreads across your face. "I'm not teasing, Tyler," you say, reaching for his hand and placing it on your thigh. "I'm just getting started." Guiding his hand, you slowly part your legs, exposing your wet, eager pussy to his touch. Tyler's fingers delve between the folds, his touch both gentle and demanding. You moan, eyebrows furrowing as you squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back while you relish in the sensation.

"That's it," you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. "Touch me, Tyler. Make me cum." Your voice comes out in a gentle beg.

Tyler's other hand joins the first, exploring your most intimate places, his thumbs circling your clit as he plunged his fingers into the tight hole. Your hips buck as you begin riding his hands with waves of pleasure crashing over you.

"Yes, just like that," you pant, your body trembling. "Oh, God, Tyler, don't stop. I'm so close."

Tyler quickens his pace, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. "Cum for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let me feel you fall apart."

With a sharp cry, you climax, your body shaking uncontrollably as pleasure rips through your entire body. Tyler continues working his magic, drawing out your orgasm and prolonging the exquisite sensation.

Finally, as the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse into the bed, your chest heaving as you try to catch a breath. Tyler hovers over your frame, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of triumph and desire.

"That," he said, his voice raw, "was just the beginning. Especially after all of that teasing you did,” his voice low and sultry. Tyler's lips curve into a devilish smile as he positions himself between your trembling legs. In one smooth thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. Moaning at the stretch, your body welcomes the invasion.

Tyler begin to move, his hips driving into you with a rhythmic pace. Meeting his thrusts, your nails digging into his back as you urge him on. The bed creaks in time with their passionate dance, the sound of your guys’s passionate gasps and moans filling the room.

"Harder, Tyler," you moan, your body craving much more. "Fuck me harder."

Tyler obliges, his movements becoming more urgent as he plunges into you again and again. The room echos with the sounds of your carnal coupling, the air heavy with the scent of sex.

Your body coils tight once more, climbing towards another orgasm. "I'm gonna cum again," you cry out, voice hoarse. "Don't stop, Tyler, please don't stop."

Tyler grunts his response, his own orgasm building. He reaches between their bodies, his fingers finding your slightly swollen clit and rubbing it in circles. It was all the stimulation you needed, and with a shout of release, you shatter into pieces, juices flooding around Tyler's hard cock.

Feeling you contracting around him, Tyler finally let go, thrusting deeply into you. Moaning into your ear as he spilled his seed, filling you with his warmth. You both cling to each other, breathing coming in ragged gasps as the two of you ride out the waves of your shared ecstasy. Collapsing onto the bed, bodies still joined, Tyler rolls onto his back, bringing your exhausted body with him so laying sprawled on top of him.

"Damn, Y/N," he murmured, running his hand through your mildly tangled hair. "You're something else."

You smile, feeling utterly sated and content. "And don't you forget it, cowboy," you reply, planting a lazy kiss onto his bare chest.

a/n (again): sorry just wanted to say that I’m working on making some more twisters smut, but i also have top gun maverick smut if y’all wanna check that out 😝🙏

[ssprayberrythings]

it'll be ok | LN4

lando norris x female!reader

warnings: unexpected pregnancy, talk of throwing up/being nauseous, suggestive actions implied if you get what i’m saying, early on pregnancy symptoms, mention of alcohol and being drunk (not the reader!!), lando being a simp for his girlfriend in every aspect of his life.

note: i know how pregnancy works and i’m not saying that reader got pregnant on this trip, her and lando are just h**ny 😭 (increased sex drive is a symptom of pregnancy though so..…) 

double note: i’m not sure how lily (oscar’s lily) is as a person but she seems like a sweetheart so i went off those vibes and i referred to alexandra by her full name cause if i said alex, someone might think alex albon lol 

okay thats it. enjoy 😉

word count: a little over 5k

masterlist | taglist

You and Lando had been dating now for close to 2 years. You were happy with the life you were making with him and he was happy to have you by his side through his success. 

Everything was going great, at least it was up until 5 minutes ago. Now here you were sitting in the bathroom to the villa you had rented out for a vacation with friends, holding a pregnancy test not sure what to do with the fact that there were two lines looking back at you. 

48 Hours Before Finding Out

“Omg this is so much more prettier than the pictures” you said as you, Lando and some of your closest friends which included some of the other drivers and their girlfriends, walked into the villa 

“This is gonna be great” Lando exclaimed excitedly while wrapping an arm around your waist “Alright everyone get their rooms sorted and when you’re done, meet down by the beach” he told everyone, earning a round of “okays” and “sounds goods”. 

You and Lando made your way to the master suite on the second floor, seeing as you had been the ones to suggest the vacation and rent the villa, it was only fair you got the biggest room. 

“Lan I don’t know which bathing suit to wear” you asked as you stared at the bathing suits you had brought. 

“Doesn’t matter to me, either way it’ll end up on the floor later” he whispered in your ear as he came up behind you 

You blushed at his flirty remark “You’re naughty” you joked with him 

“Only for you” he reiterated as he put his hands on your hips and started kissing your neck 

“Lan if we start doing that, we’re never gonna leave” you tried being serious even though the shudder in your voice gave you away, telling Lando he was succeeding in distracting you. 

This happened quite frequently. Lando knew you so well and he made you feel things, none of your previous boyfriends had ever made you feel. 

He continued kissing your neck, knowing exactly where to put his lips. You felt yourself giving in with the way he was kissing you and how his hands were slowly moving down from your hips, you knew you wouldn’t be making it to the beach anytime soon. 

-

You and Lando eventually left your room, joining your friends on the beach. 

“Where the hell were you two” Max asked as he sat on a beach chair with everyone else doing their own thing 

“Y/N needed help picking a bathing suit” Lando responded smirking, knowing Max wouldn’t believe him but also knew he wouldn’t push for the truth, he was smart enough to put two and two together. 

“Babe I’m gonna go in the water, care to join?” Lando asked turning to you as your hands were interlocked 

“No I’m okay for now, I’m gonna try and tan a bit then I’ll come join you” you told him, he smiled at your answer and then gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and started making his way towards the water to join the friends of yours that were currently playing water volleyball. 

You spent the rest of your day in between tanning with the girls and playing in the water with Lando. Once everyone was done with the sun, you all made your way back to the house where you went to your perspective rooms to rest a little before you went out for dinner. 

You felt extra tired which on any other day you might be more concerned about but you had been travelling between time zones and then spent a significant amount of time in the sun, so in your head it made sense to be this tired. 

Once you had changed from your bathing suit into some clean undies and a oversized T-shirt, you crashed on yours and Lando’s bed where he was already sitting scrolling on his phone 

“Lan im gonna take a quick nap, wake me up in like an hour so I can start getting ready” you told him as you curled into a ball nuzzling your face into the pillows 

“Sure thing sweets” he said leaning down to kiss your head before going back to his phone, keeping one hand free to play with your hair knowing that always helped put you to sleep. 

-

Lando stayed true to his word and gently woke you up about an hour into your nap, not wanting to, seeing as you looked so peaceful but knowing you’d be upset if he let you sleep longer than you wanted.

“Babe” he said gently stroking his hand over your cheek 

“Hmm” you mumbled still half asleep 

“You wanted me to wake you so you could start to get ready” he told you smiling at how cute you looked 

“Why are you a good boyfriend and actually listen to what I say” you grumbled 

He chuckled “C’mon we can take a shower together, that’ll wake you up” he suggested knowing you’d get what he was implying 

You opened one eye looking at him to see if he was joking but knew he wasn’t when you saw the look in his eyes, this got you to open both eyes and slowly stretch, waking up fully in the process 

“Alright pretty boy let’s go” you said as you got off the bed causing a laugh to leave Lando as he got off the bed, following you into the bathroom. 

-

Once everyone including you and Lando were ready, you decided to visit a cute Italian restaurant nearby. Everyone in the group all loved Italian so it worked out perfectly. 

While you were walking to the restaurant, you felt a slight squeeze in your stomach but chalked it up to that all you had to eat today was some fruit and a small salad. 

Lately your appetite hadn’t been what it normally was, you pushed this thought aside though wanting to enjoy your vacation and deciding you’d worry about it once you got back home. 

After some walking you reached the restaurant, Charles taking point and speaking to the hostess in Italian to get a table. They brought you to the part of the restaurant that was more private and made sure there were enough seats for everyone. 

The host got you all menus and water, letting you know your server would be there momentarily. 

You politely smiled at her and offered her thanks in Italian, you may have loved everything Italian but your knowledge of the language didn’t go past basic phrases and words. 

You sat next to Lando and Lily, Oscars girlfriend. The two of you had gotten close with your boyfriends being teammates. You felt that squeeze in your stomach again, this time more intense so you casually reached for your water and hoped it would help. 

Once you had drank enough water to feel better, you went back to look at your menu 

“Baby are you okay? You just practically chugged your water” Lando asked quietly turning to you 

You nodded “Yeah, I'm good, I just didn’t realize how thirsty I was” you lied offering him a smile, he seemed to believe you and went back to the menu, Lily however offered you a strange look, having overheard your words and not fully believing you but deciding not to push. 

You could still feel that slight squeeze in your stomach and was apprehensive to order a large meal so you went for a simple soup, figuring it was the safest option. 

When everyone’s food arrived, you caught a whiff of the food around you and suddenly that squeeze in your stomach was becoming too much to handle. You didn’t want to bring attention to yourself but if you didn’t go to the washroom now, you weren’t sure what would happen so you turned to Lily.

“Lils I need your help” you whispered to the girl who had just taken a bite of her food 

“Is everything okay? You look pale” she asked concerned 

“I’m gonna throw up and desperately need to get away from the table” you explained trying to stuff the nausea down until you were somewhere else 

“Say no more” the girl said then turned to Oscar letting him know she was using the washroom, he smiled and moved out of the booth, luckily he was on the end 

“Y/N will you come with?” She asked, acting like the washroom was her idea and just wanted a friend to accompany her 

Your name sparked Lando’s interest and turned to face you 

“Babe I’ll be back im just gonna go to the washroom with Lily” you told him quickly before getting out of the booth, offering Oscar a small smile to say sorry for interrupting his meal 

Then you and Lily made your way to the washroom, as much as you would’ve preferred to run there, you didn’t want to seem weird so you casually bit your lip and hoped you could get there in time. 

“Girls are so strange in always wanting someone with them to go to the washroom” Lando said to Oscar eating his food 

Oscar just shrugged “I’m used to it at this point” he replied to his friend and teammate before both drivers went back to their previous conversation with the others around them. 

Meanwhile in the washroom, you were in a stall on your knees with your head over the toilet. Luckily Lily was there to hold back your hair and rub your back. 

“Are you okay? Did you eat something you shouldn’t have?” She asked after you were done and had stood up, using some tissues to wipe your mouth 

“I didn’t have anything weird to eat, just some fruit and a small salad” you told her as you fixed your hair and did your best to get the taste of vomit out of your mouth. Remembering you had gum in your purse and silently saying a prayer to your past self for putting it there. 

“That’s strange” she said even though you could sense there was more the girl wanted to say but held back 

“I don’t know how I'm gonna get through dinner. The smell of everything is what triggered this” you told her turning to her 

“Maybe just tell Lando you aren’t feeling the greatest and are gonna walk back to the Villa” she suggested 

“He wont let me go alone, he’ll want to join me and I don’t want to take him away from everyone” you explained 

“I’ll go back with you. I’ll just tell Oscar to bring my food home in a to go box” she offered 

“Are you sure Lils?” You asked the girl, feeling bad

“That’s what friends are for” she smiled

“Okay, let’s go then” you told her 

-

When you made your way back to the table, Lando looked at you, you could see there was some concern behind his eyes probably because of how long you had been in the washroom 

You slid in the booth to tell him you and Lily were gonna head back 

“I’m just not feeling super great and don’t want to take you away from everyone so Lily’s gonna walk back with me” you explained to him 

“Are you okay? What are you feeling? I’ll walk back with you, I don’t mind” he told you the concern only worsening 

“Babe I'm fine, really, I'm sure a good nights rest is all I need and then tomorrow I’ll be good” you reassured him, offering him a small smile 

“Okay but text me if you need anything or want me to come back” he told you which you nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before getting out of the booth and walking to the exit with Lily. 

“Where’s Lily and Y/N going?” Charles asked 

“Y/N’s not feeling the great so they’re going back to the villa” Lando answered him 

Charles nodded then went back to talking to his girlfriend, Alexandra.

Lando shared a look with Oscar as both of their girlfriends had left them 

“Did Lily say anything?” Lando asked Oscar as they moved closer now that there was some space between them 

“No, just that she was going back with Y/N” he told him. He could see Lando was worried “I’m sure she’ll be fine and Lily will text if anything happens” Oscar did his best to reassure the Brit. Lando just nodded and silently went back to his food. 

-

24 Hours Before Finding Out

The next day, you had woken up and luckily you didn’t feel any feelings of nausea, hopefully that was an indicator that today was going to be different from yesterday and you could enjoy your trip. 

You got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, you had a strange craving for orange juice which wasn’t normally your go to breakfast drink but you weren’t mad about it, seeing as the orange juice in the fridge was freshly squeezed. 

You smiled when you poured yourself a tall glass and went to sit on the patio furniture outside enjoying the beautiful view.

You pulled your phone out, scrolling through TikTok. You tried to avoid TikTok because most of the time you’d see videos of your boyfriend or any sort of f1 content but today you gave it a chance. 

So far it was going great until you saw a video of this creator explaining their battle with cancer and how they were finally in remission. You felt the tears gathering in your eyes but figured it was just your hormones and you being a sensitive person. 

Then you moved from TikTok to Instagram and saw a post about puppy adoptions and suddenly you couldn’t hold the tears back and that’s how Lando found you, crying over your phone 

“Babe what’s wrong?” He asked instantly pulling the chair next to you, rubbing your back 

“These puppies, they’re all up for adoption” you told him, showing him the rescue centre’s instagram highlighting all the dogs they had up for adoption. 

Lando found you the cutest for crying over dogs “Why are you crying though?” he asked still rubbing your back 

You shrugged, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve “I don’t know, they just all look so cute and I want them to find their forever homes” you tried to explain why you were crying, even if you didn’t fully understand why. 

“You’re adorable” he smiled at you “How about when we get back, we can try and organize an adoption event with the centre, I’m sure the attention from an f1 driver should help” he suggested.

He would do anything to see you smile even if that meant having to talk with his PR manager about organizing a puppy adoption event sponsored by McLaren. 

The idea brought a smile to your face and you sniffled “Thats really sweet of you Lan” you told him 

“We’ll get all those dogs adopted” you leaned over giving your boyfriend a hug. The tears had subsided which Lando was grateful for, he hated seeing you cry. 

He hugged you back, kissing the top of your head “Anything for you sweets” he reassured you. 

-

After your moment, you and Lando joined the rest of your friends inside. You all enjoyed a nice breakfast together, then once the dishes were dealt with, you all went your own ways, everyone wanting to do something different. 

You and Lando planned to go take some pictures around the area. That was one of the things that drew you two to each other, both having a passion for photography. 

On your first date, you spent so much time sharing pictures and the stories that went with them so when you started dating, it became something you did together, whenever you could. 

You were walking up to your room when Kika called your name. You turned looking in the direction of where your name had come, seeing Kika sticking her head out of her and Pierre’s room.

“Whats up? Is everything okay?” you asked as you approached their room. 

“Yeah, I just was wondering if you had a tampon or a pad, I got my period and just realized I didn’t bring anything” she chuckled 

“Oh yeah, I have tampons in my room. I’ll bring you a few to get you through until you can go to a local store” you told the girl, she smiled at you “Thank you, youre an angel” 

You just smiled and then turned walking to your room, going straight to the washroom, to look through your toiletries bag. As you looked at the mini travel sized bag you brought filled with tampons, it hit you, you had never gotten your period. 

You were supposed to get it right before the trip and the last few days of your period should’ve been the first couple days you were away but as you got ready for vacation, you still hadn’t gotten it which was why you brought a weeks worth figuring you’d end up getting it on the trip but you still hadn’t gotten it and that sparked a fear within you. 

You quickly grabbed a few for Kika and closed the bag. As you turned to leave the washroom, you bumped into Lando “Oh sorry babe” you told him, you must’ve seemed frazzled judging by the expression Lando offered you 

“Are you okay?” he asked “Oh yeah, just need to give something to Kika” you told him hiding the tampons behind your back.

Obviously Lando knew what a period was, having a mother, 2 sisters and a girlfriend, he was used to it and had they been for you, you wouldn’t have cared but you didn’t want to make Kika uncomfortable so you with held those details from him. 

“Oh okay..well I’m ready to go whenever you want to go take some photos” he told you, offering you his typical Lando smile. You smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips “I can be ready in a few minutes” you told him once you pulled away. 

Then moved around him, being sure he couldn’t see what was behind your back before leaving the room, walking to Kika’s. You knocked on the door, she answered almost immediately  “You’re my lifesaver. I owe you” she told you once you handed her the tampons. 

“Really glad you said that, I need you to get me something from the store whenever you go” you told her biting your bottom lip, something you did when you were nervous 

“What’s up?” she asked 

“Can you get me a couple pregnancy tests” you whispered, not wanting anyone to hear. Kika’s eyes grew in size “Woah, really?” she confirmed, you just nodded, not saying anything. 

“Yeah of course. Want me to leave them in your suitcase while you’re out?” she offered 

“That’d be great. Thank you” you told her 

“Do you really think you’re” she started before gesturing to your stomach instead of saying the word 

“Honestly I’m not too sure, it didn’t cross my mind until moments ago when I realized I missed my period” you explained, she nodded along 

“Well you aren’t alone regardless of the results. We’re all here for you” she reassured you, you smiled at her words. 

“Thanks Kika, I appreciate that” you told her “Anyways I should go and get ready, Lan and I are going to take some photos around the area, I’ll see you later” you told her offering her a goodbye before walking back to yours and Lando’s room. 

You quickly changed into something clean, washed your face, tied your hair into a high ponytail and then slipped on your converse to go meet Lando downstairs. 

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fan2: they’re so cute 

fan3: y/n giving us the lando content 

fan4: the y/nlando crumbs 

landonorris: my favourite adventure partner 🧡

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francisca.cgomez: my faves ☺️

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-

You and Lando ended up having an awesome time. You walked around and took plenty of photos. Yours were of the area, some of the locals, some of Lando, a good variety meanwhile Lando’s were mostly of you. 

He called you his muse the first time you asked him why he took so many pictures of you but by now you had grown used to it and didn’t question it. 

In the midst of walking around, you had grabbed a quick bite to eat at a cute cafe. You went with a fruit parfait and water, figuring it was the safest option not wanting to risk being sick. 

After being out for a couple hours, you eventually made your way back to the villa. When you got back, you got a text from Kika after passing her in the kitchen. 

Kika: ‘They’re in your suitcase, under a pile of bathing suits’ 

You quickly texted her back 

Y/N: ‘Thank you. Now I owe you’ 

Kika: ‘If you end up having a girl, name her Francisca 😌’

You laughed, not answering her but rather hearting the message then going to find the tests. 

When you walked into your room, you heard Lando in the washroom, so you checked your suitcase to double check where they were and then once you had confirmation, covered them back up. 

You had plans with everyone to go out tonight so you wouldn’t be able to test until tomorrow. You weren’t sure how you were gonna avoid drinking tonight. 

It’s not as if you were a heavy drinker, you just enjoyed doing shots while you were out and you could handle your alcohol well so nights out never phased you. 

Tonight however to be cautious incase you were pregnant you had to avoid alcohol. 

You sighed, so far this trip you had spent more time stressed out then relaxed and you weren’t sure how much more you could handle before you exploded from the uncertainty. 

You heard Lando finishing in the washroom so you quickly grabbed an outfit from your suitcase before shutting it. 

“I thought you were gonna join me in the shower” Lando said when he walked out, his curls wet from the water

“Sorry my love, I took too long trying to figure out what to wear” you lied, offering him a soft smile 

“It’s okay, I can think of a couple ways you can make it up to me” he winked at you, you blushed. 

“Your cheeky” you told him smiling as he laughed at your comment. 

You quickly got yourself ready and then you made your way downstairs with Lando to meet everyone else. Once everyone was ready to go, you made your way to the local club. 

On the way, Kika linked her arm with yours and walked a bit up from the boys. 

“Did you test?” She asked in a low tone, you subtly shook your head 

“I need your help tonight avoiding alcohol” you replied keeping your voice low 

She nodded “Don’t worry, we’ll get you a mocktail at the bar and you can either sip on it through the evening or keep going back for the same one. Then with shots, we’ll tell the bartender to give you water” she explained still keeping her voice low, you offered her a small smile 

“I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t here. You and Lily have both been the best” you exclaimed, Kika just smiled and gave you a side hug 

“That’s what friends do” she told you.

-

Once you got to the club, Kika went to get your drinks and made sure to tell the bartender the plan. The bartender was a female and without even having to explain why, somehow she understood and told Kika to always give you the shot with a rounder base. 

So far everything had been going smoothly and once people became more intoxicated, it was easier to let loose and not keep up the show as much as you had been. 

Surprisingly you were having a great time sober, just getting to dance with everyone and enjoy being with your friends, this was exactly what you needed and it took your mind off what you had to do tomorrow. 

Currently you were dancing with Lando, his hands were on your waist and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. It didn’t bother you as much as you thought it would. 

“Babyyyyy” he said into your ear due to the loud music 

“Yes Lan?” You asked laughing at your boyfriends behaviour 

“I love youuu” he told you stretching out the you. You smiled at him 

“I know. I love you too” you told him running a hand through his curls, he closed his eyes enjoying the feeling 

“Can we go back to our place, I just want to be alone with you” he told you, pulling you closer and nuzzling his face in your neck, breathing in your perfume.

“What about our friends?” You asked him, even though you knew they’d be fine and you wouldn’t mind alone time with Lando

“They’ll be fine” he said as he started kissing your neck, you shuddered a bit at the sensation. 

“Don’t start doing that here or we won’t be able to stop” you told him even though you didn’t want him to stop 

“I don’t want to stop” he said pulling his lips away to answer you before leaning down and kissing you. 

You felt yourself getting weaker in the knees. This was the effect Lando had on you. 

“Okay fine, let’s leave then” you said in between breaths, he smiled and then grabbed your hand, intertwining his with yours and carefully made his way to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Kika asked as you passed her and Pierre 

“Back to the Villa. See you later, stay safe” you told her quickly offering a wave over your shoulder 

She chuckled “Children having a child” she muttered under her breath 

“What did you just say?” Pierre asked his girlfriend 

Kika didn’t think he had heard with the music “Nothing” she quickly said 

“No I swear you said” he started but she stopped him before he could finish. 

“Pierre just drop it for now. Please” she asked. The look they shared said enough. He nodded and then they went back to dancing. 

She hoped he wouldn’t say anything further on the topic, her boyfriend had a tendency to spread gossip even if it wasn’t always intentional but hopefully this time, he’d keep it to himself. 

Back at the Villa, you and Lando were having a great time and took advantage of the empty house, getting to be loud as you pleased. If you weren’t already pregnant, there’s a good possibility after tonight, you might’ve been. 

-

Moments Before Finding Out

The next morning, you woke up wrapped in the duvet and Lando. You smiled at how peaceful he looked. Then you remembered what you had to do and suddenly you felt the nerves creep back up on you. 

You sighed and carefully got out of bed, being sure not to wake Lando. Thankfully he was a heavy sleeper when he had been drinking. 

You crept over to your suitcase, finding the pregnancy tests and taking them to the washroom. You had googled that testing in the morning was the best time so that’s what you were doing. 

You locked the door and then opened the first box. Taking the test and sitting on the toilet. You quickly peed on the stick and then placed it back on the counter, on top of a piece of toilet paper. You finished up and then pulled your sleep shorts back up and set the timer on your phone. Sitting on the edge of the toilet. 

You closed your eyes trying your best to keep your breathing steady. Everything would be fine. Lando loved you and even if this was unexpected, he wouldn’t leave you, at least you didn’t think he would, he wasn’t like that. You did some more deep breaths until your timer went off and you quickly silenced it not wanting to wake up Lando. 

You shakily stood up from the toilet and with your shaking hands, reached for the test and that’s when you saw, the two lines looking up at you, indicating you were pregnant.

-

After Finding Out

After the first positive, you had to do the other 3 tests to be sure and of course those all came back positive. You put them back in one of the boxes and just stood there in shock. 

You were pregnant. You were going to be a mom and Lando was going to be a dad. You wanted to cry but you also knew once you started you wouldn’t be able to stop. 

You weren’t sure how long you stayed in the washroom until you heard Lando call your name, you knew you had to tell him now or else you’d drive yourself mad keeping it in. 

You opened the door and made your way back to the bed. Seeing Lando sitting up rubbing his eyes, he must’ve just woken up.

“Lan, I need to tell you something” you told him biting your lip due to your nerves. He looked confused 

“Is everything okay? Did something happen?” He asked as you made your way to sit next to him. You sat with your feet tucked under you 

You reached for his hand “Nothing happened” you reassured him then took a deep breath before continuing

“I’m pregnant” you told him trying to keep your voice steady and calm not wanting to show your nerves, already knowing Lando would have plenty of his own. 

“Sorry but I think I heard you incorrectly; did you say pregnant?” He asked rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 

You nodded your head, not sure what was going through his mind at the moment. You sat in silence for what felt like a lifetime, the longer the more nervous you got. 

Lan was never speechless and this scared you “Lan please say something” you said, feeling yourself wanting to cry even more now 

He must’ve sensed you were on the verge of tears “Baby I'm sorry, come here” he said opening his arms which you gladly accepted and buried your head in his chest, the tears finally leaving. 

“It’s unexpected but it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out together” he said rubbing your back “I love you and there’s no one else I’d want to have children with, I just thought it’d be a bit further down the road but this is okay. Baby’s are a good thing regardless of when they come” he told you. 

You pulled away, wiping your eyes “So you aren’t gonna leave?” You asked as you hiccuped 

“Not a chance. You’re stuck with me for life now” he told you smiling. You returned the smile finally feeling better. 

You and Lando spent the rest of the morning cuddled up, talking about your baby, what you thought they’d look like, how they’d act, if they were a boy or a girl. 

At some point you must’ve started to drift off cause you found yourself cuddled up next to Lando as he played with your hair, subconsciously your hand found its place on your stomach and Lando kissed your head. 

He loved you and would do anything for you and now that meant your baby as well. The two of you were his world and he planned on spending the rest of his life making sure you both knew how much he loved you both. 

-

taglist: @namgification

AH! I hope you all enjoyed this <3 I had such a fun time writing it and I'm proud of how it turned out! Im always open to feedback so please share your thoughts !

[nor-4]

The "B" word trend - Formula one and Reader

A/N: @23victoria when i saw her posts i immediately think of this one so thanks to her! Love her works sm

⋆.˚ Max Verstappen

"Hey everyone, love say hi to the camera." You informed max as you touched his legs to catch his attention, "Hi guys" He waved into the camera throwing out a smile.

"So i saw this trend on tiktok.." You started talking while arranging your bag that is on your lap trying to distract you from nervousness, "Yes.." Max nodded as he turns to look at you.

"If i gave you the permission to say the B word, how would you call me?" You stated as you were looking out the window and back to him.

"What i always call you beautiful, what do you mean permission?" Max looked at you with his typical confused look, "No babe what. I meant by you know the curse word." You giggled as you lightly pushed his face away who was about an inch away from you.

"Oh that, i would never say that to you even you say that to me." He shrugged laughing too, "Called me once a bitchy whore for wearing my suit and an attitude." he faced the camera as if he is complaining to the viewers before ending the video.

⋆.˚ Logan Sargeant

"If i let you say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked him on ig live while eating beside him, "B word? Bookie? Bookie you look good and shit." Logan continued as he is looking for an answer on your reaction. He isn't fond to these kind of trends but he knows damn well what pookie and bookie is.

"You know bookie but you don't know the b word." You questioned him.

username11: Bye i didn't know this is how the trend is supposed to go

loganlover34: Logan chronically online confirmed?

⋆.˚ George Russell

"So if i let you say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked george and oh boy he is ready as he already seen that trend earlier this morning.

"Okay it's something like this. Biiitch you look so fucking gorgeous or Bitch! You look so fucking gorgeous girl." George sassed waving out his fingers infront of you, "Aw you look like a little twink georgeyy." You stated pressing the e on the nickname as you know how much it cringe him off.

"Eugh, you are taking a piss." George pointed out at you with a disgust changing out his mood, til this day it still makes you laugh on how he acts like the videos of Paul and Morgan on tiktok.

⋆.˚ Lando Norris

: Babe, random thought. If i let you say the B word to me, how would you say it?

Lando reading the text out loud for the stream cause he couldn't show to everyone what contains you conversation. "Oh i think i know this one, It would be like. I love you bitch, ain't never gonna stop loving you bitch." He is saying what he is typing as his friends talk to the background.

Lando: It would be liek. I love you bich, ain't never gona stop loving you bicht.

: You are typing bich baby, that doesn't count.😭😭😭

"You are typing bich. Like bich, what the hell is that spelling right there. That's so british." He yelled at the mic reading out that one typo and ignoring the other.

⋆.˚ Carlos Sainz

"So would you call me the B word if i let you?" You asked facing the phone at him, he is very familiar of this kind of trend as the ferrari hospitality is flooding him with trends especially the "Watch carlos for a second" video.

"Bello. That's the b word i will call you." He smiled very proud of his answer, "Noo you know what b word I'm talking about carlos."

"Bebita, you know papa will kill me if he ever found out I'll call you something like that." It's true though Carlos senior already threatened him about saying things like that around you and to you. "But you know-"

"No. Bello that's the word." he cut you off.

⋆.˚ Daniel Ricciardo

"I already told you danny i wouldn't do anything if you say it." You have been laughing for solid straight 10 minutes now ever since you asked that question, "Bii... Honey i really can't say it." Daniel is like that one Noah and Lori video and that's why you are laughing because of the resemblance.

"Come on, do you want me to cheer for you?" You teased him as he has been jumping, walking, running or just doing anything other than saying the B word.

"Sorry i just couldn't bring myself to say it, okay i lost." He shrugged defeated before slumping down to your feet resting his head on your lap hugging your legs as if his life depends on it.

⋆.˚ Lewis Hamilton

"So how would you say the B word to me?" You have been asking the same question for fifteen times now as he is trying to avoid that question by changing the subject or asking something back at you.

"No i wouldn't say it it's either you will cry or you will be aroused." Lewis said before slumping down the sofa beside you and roscoe beside you.

"Lewis, what?"

"What, who said that?" him acting cool as he wrap his arm around you waist eventually reaching up to roscoe cuddling up the both of you as if you guys are the most fragile and comfortable thing ever in the world.

⋆.˚ Charles Leclerc

"If i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked charles and yes it is a very easy question for him as cursingg at your significant others isn't a thing for him it will never be and he thinks that everyone thinks like that too.

"Hello beautiful." He answered before biting into his food, "That's sweet, but not that b word. The other one you know" You corrected him leaving out your food for a second for his reaction.

"Oh i didn't know you are into degrading when it comes to intimate stuff." Charles said before giggling like a teenager, "Cha you know that's not what i meant."

"Yeah but you are into it though"

⋆.˚ Fernando Alonso

Oh girl we didn't see that asking this on live is very bad idea. "If i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" You asked him placing the phone infront of both of you.

"My belleza? It's the best b word, it fits you." Nando confidently said placing a hand on your back rubbing it, "No i mean by the bad b word." You cleared him.

"My bitch, doesn't sound good. I prefer my belleza more, it fits you well especially when you look under-" You slap Fernando's mouth before everything went down for you as how it is already, "We are on live you oldie." you joked before jokingly throwing his head away.

username3: Got that on screen record lmao

username4: Fernando you nasty girl😝

⋆.˚ Oscar Piastri

"Oscah if i gave you permission to say the B word to me, how much say it?" You asked out of nowhere which made him give you a stank eye once again, "You know you are the B word but i will never say it to you." He rolled his eyes before continuing to type on his phone for his twitter post.

"So if i am there's still a possibility you will say it?" You asked once again pretty same question cause we know you are not gonna let it go, "No, leave it now miss girl before i make you." you know what he means by that and because of that you wouldn't leave him alone.

⋆.˚ Zhou Guanyu

"babe if i gave you permission to say the B word, how would you say it?" The first thing you asked in the early morning after a tiring night, "Woman i know this is a trap stop it right now." Zhou finally learned with all these stupid question you asked after failing many times and completely losing his mind.

"I'm just a woman to you know?" You pouted before turning your back at him deciding to cuddle sweetcorn who is sleeping beside you, "Of course not love, you're my woman." he stated before sneaking his arms around your waist and petting sweetcorn.

⋆.˚ Pierre Gasly

"If i gave you permission to say the B word-" yeah he knows it another chronically online men.

"No baby." Pierre said shaking his head from side to side, "I didn't even finished." You raised your eyebrows looking at him as if you suspicion him of something.

"Did your other bitch ask you this question? Why do you know this trend?" You asked pierre as he turned his head at you as if you are going crazy or something, "Are you okay? Literally every post i upload on Instagram your face is there." he tried defending moving his arms in the air while talking.

"So you are getting tired of it?" You asked again feeding his frustration as he just look at you with mouth agape.