#somethings not right with that croc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scudevils · 2 months ago

Text

land down under — OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x irwin!reader

warnings: swearing, possibly the most fluff i’ve ever wrote, oscar and lando trying not to embarrass themselves in front of the irwins, i tried to make it as accurate to australia zoo as possible (even watched a walkthrough 😭😭, but alas i’ve never been so nothing is 100%), mutual pining altho no too much because i can’t do that to myself, not proofread!!

synopsis: during a mclaren media appearance, oscar can’t help but find himself interested in the youngest of australia’s royal family [6.4k]

a/n: this came to me after seeing the robert irwin bonds ad, i’m also rusty af i haven’t written since december so bare with me pls. although fun fact i have actually had a corn snake around my neck before so i’m twinning with oscar and lando!

MASTERLIST

an irwin.

that's what you were, the name that you carried, the real australian royal family some would call you, the lasting impact of your dad's legacy was something you took pride in, how he and your mom raised you, robert, and bindi to continue his work after he had passed, the importance of protecting the natural world and the role that we all had to play in the conservation of wildlife.

it was ingrained in you since you were a child, continuing what your grandparents had started with the australia zoo, ensuring the effort to raise awareness and preserve wildlife and their habitat, would not end with them. it would endure generations, their work would be worth it.

whilst robert followed in your father's footsteps, crocs and snakes being his speciality, you preferred the calmer residents at the zoo. since it's opening on your 8th birthday, the african safari exhibit was where you spent most of your time, the unofficial name in honour of you, if you had to choose it was easily your favourite place in the zoo, something so enchanting about it that had you spellbound.

it had been built to recreate the serengeti ecosystem, exhibiting how these species lived in harmony with each other, giraffes, one of your favourites since you were young, zebras and white rhinos, existing how they would in the wild together. further up the exhibit were the cheetahs and across from them the tigers, your favourite of the big cats.

the elephants were your favourite to sit with, captivating to watch, their intelligence that only few were blessed to see up close with their own eyes, how they played with the zookeepers, truly gentle giants.

it was your idea of wonderland.

which was why when you were informed the zoo would be hosting the mclaren f1 team as a media appearance before the upcoming race weekend, there was no doubt in anyone's mind you'd give that portion of the tour, including the koala's and kangaroos experience as those were your areas of expertise.

bindi and robert were more into the sport than yourself, both of them occasionally staying up for races that weren't as unreasonably late, and of course, thrived when it came to the races in your own timezone, but you'd have to have been loving under a rock to not know that the team had an australian driver, it was impossible to escape him during a race week, his face plastered across adverts, despite the race not even taking part in the city.

you hadn't expected how many would show up, obviously you knew it was going to be busy, social media a buzz at the fact two formula 1 drivers were going to be visiting, although the number was easily in the thousands, only to be cordoned off from them anyway by the mclaren crew. that was slightly annoying to you, even if they all weren't there to see the zoo, at least they were buying tickets and would hopefully give them a chance to take a look at the work you were doing.

the camera's were on before you realised, filming the two mclaren drivers walking through the zoo entrance as if they were anybody else, your eyes first spotting the one on the right, whose face you'd seen all over the country the past week, and you couldn't help but think 'cuter in person', his calm demeanour making him appear more approachable than his teammate. they introduced themselves to your mother, bindi and robert, finally landing on you, oscar gave you a warm smile and lando, you'd learned his name was, sporting what you could already tell was going to be his signature cheeky grin.

"okay guys," robert spoke a mix to the two drivers and the camera, "we're so glad to have you here, any place you'd like to go first?" he asked them, a part of him having a feeling he already knew what they were going to say.

whilst the attention wasn't on you, you tried not to stare, really, but you kept catching oscar in your peripheral that it was hard not to, the papaya-coloured top was just so eye-catching, was what you told bindi when she caught you.

"don't know about you osc, but i'm just here for the crocs" lando answered with a short laugh and a smile, not that you were staring (you were totally staring), but you'd caught his teammate rolling his eyes beside him, lando nevertheless looking over roberts shoulder at the map of the zoo, trying to find where the crocodiles were on it.

from the walk to the first exhibit, you quickly learned lando was a people person, and it wasn't just for the cameras, his energy was almost infectious and you were laughing along to his terrible jokes as you walked beside him and oscar, who was definitely more eager to take in what your brother was telling him about the enclosures you were walking past at the moment in time, something about irwin's turtles and the komodo dragons, you'd heard it all before, and really, you should've urged lando to listen.

the sight of the first crocodile seemed to finally be the one thing to shut lando up, as he got out his phone to take pictures, oscar still stood beside you fighting every urge in him to copy his teammate, he had to keep it cool in front of the irwins, nicole had urged him in her text earlier in the morning, sunglasses resting on his head. "he's gorgeous, isn't he."

oscar looked down at you, a look as if you were crazy crossing his features before turning back to the enclosure in front. "you and i have very different definitions of gorgeous."

you smiled at his joke, there was truth to his words, growing up around all the wildlife made you appreciate the beauty they had, even the ones with big sharp teeth. "he jokes! thought your teammate was the only funny one."

he let out an amused scoff, taking a closer look at weipa the crocodile in front of him, tuning back into what your brother was saying to the group about him, how your father had saved him from a croc farm before transporting him here for conservation.

you took the time to appreciate the way the team-coloured shirt complimented his tan, the australian sun can do real damage to some people, but not to him, noticing the moles on his neck and face as he continued listening to robert rambling on. or one of the first times in your life you were glad he could talk for days. his eyes were soft, kind-looking, the type that you could spend hours staring into and never getting bored, the way they crinkle when he laughs was endearing, almost too endearing that you wanted to look away but couldn't. maybe it was creepy how you noticed how his eyebrows knitted together when he focused on what he was being told, occasionally looking back down at weipa to make sure he wasn't going anywhere then back to robert. you were staring. hard.

bindi bumping into your shoulder brought you back to consciousness, finding lando and robert looking back at you for an answer. "sorry what did you say." you could feel the warmth creeping up your neck, your heartbeat thumping in your ear, already thinking how you were going to blame it on the aussie sun when bindi teased you for it later. "right yeah, he's only about 10ft when the males are usually around 13-16ft, a short king." that brought a couple laughs from lando and oscar, and you were thankful to move on to the next enclosure.

the walk was minimal, only a minute or two up the trail and you were already at the next one. "this happy couple is graham and bindi, two more saltwater crocs," robert pointed the two of them out, graham half in the water whilst bindi was up on the banks. "these two were a bit mischievous together, and were brought in as part of management program in the 80s together."

another zookeeper gave you the bucket that you haded to lando, pieces of various bits of meat in it, encouraging him to throw in two bits for them, seeing the way his eyes lit up at the snap of their jaws. "her names' bindi? like your sister?" oscar asked, a light tone to his words, he was so easygoing it made you scared at how someone could be so relaxed in this type of situation unless you'd grown up with it like you all had.

"can't you see the resemblance." that earned a laugh from him, it was so infectious and warm, that you wanted to make him do it more, his eyes crinkling, you couldn't help but join him, not catching the glare bindi was sending you from beside lando, who was too scared to laugh instead it be directed at him.

lando handed the bucket over to oscar who looked back at you, nodding in his direction and he proceeded with caution towards where robert had instructed him, a safe distance away in case anything was to go wrong. "this is the original bindi actually, she's definitely got a personality on her." robert commented as her jaws snapped around the piece that oscar had thrown in. "and this big boy, is the only one who managed to get a piece of one of us, poor wes got bit in the backside."

you couldn't help but wince at his words, the reminder of the danger of your jobs, anything could happen in a split second, no matter how long they were rehabilitated for, they were still wild animals and nothing could break their spirit. "on that happy note, acco?"

robert nodded, taking the bucket from oscar and handing it back over to one of the zookeepers in the back, before leading the way to the last of the crocodiles they were going to see. you felt oscar walking beside you, the warmth radiating off him in the already 25° heat. "do you ever get scared?"

his question caught you off guard, no one had really asked you that before, and if they had it came from the kids during question time than someone like him. "do you?" you redirected the question, and he took a second before answering, before nodding his head, adding a 'sometimes'. "i've been around these animals my entire life, i've been scratched more times than i can count, bitten by a few cubs before, but at the end of the day they're still animals. if i get hurt, it's because i made the mistake, they're just reacting off their instincts." you took a breath, thinking back to the time when you were 11 and you were handling one of the cheetah cubs, young and inexperienced and obviously not reading its body language enough and it took a nip at you, it was sore of course, but it was a learning experience you needed if you wanted to continue working with them. "so yes i get scared, but not of them, of making a mistake that could get myself and them hurt."

"i get that fear too." he admitted, his stride slowing down slightly to match your own when you looked up at him, the brim of your hat obstructing your vision of his face. "i can make the smallest mistake out on track, and it can have severe consequences for not only me, but other drivers."

he wasn't entirely sure the reason he was confiding in you like this, a strange feeling of trust with you despite only meeting, and you felt the same, like you could spill all your secrets and not feel an ounce of regret, but it had to wait as robert interrupted you. "this massive guy is acco, just around 16 and half feet long," looking up at oscar, you were about to say something when you saw how his attention was completely on what your brother was saying, like he was actually trying to learn more about the wildlife and the efforts you were doing there, and that brought a smile to your face.

visiting acco always made you a little emotional, his enclosure being where your father had proposed to your mom, it was always like a little bit of him was there when you went.

"he was a bit of a problem child who had a bad habit of trying to attack people. when my dad tried to catch him actually, he sunk the boat that he was in, but he managed to get him and transport him here where he's been ever since." the two drivers were silent as they watched the crocodile moving around the enclosure, the speed of him despite being such a large animal catching them off guard.

and just as quickly as that part of the tour had started, it was already ending, bindi leading the way towards the reptile house, named after your brother, only a couple minutes away from acco's enclosure. "i hope you're good with snakes." bindi jested, gauging from their reactions that they were most definitely not.

"we're not gonna get anything trying to kill us right?" lando questioned, hoping her response to be the one that he wished for. he wish didn't seem to come true however when bindi just laughed off his question, his eyes wide as he looked back at you and oscar, then to robert behind yous. the camera's picked up on his reaction, and you knew that he knew they did.

"it's australia, everything's trying to kill you."

the lighting inside the reptile house was dark, gloomy, save for the bright blue, sterile lights that lit up each of the vivariums, a placard beneath detailing the species they held inside. "that's a big snake." lando blurted out, his eyes wide as he saw the olive coloured corn snake coiled underneath the heat lamp, the background made out to be the australian outback.

"she's actually one of our shorter snakes," bindi guided them over to the glass, unlocking it with one of the many keys she had attached to her belt, before sliding the glass open. "this is sally, she's super chill, she's even met chris hemsworth."

"she's more famous here than you mate." lando bantered, placing a comforting arm around oscar's shoulders.

"you wanna hold her?" bindi had already started lifting her out before they could reply, careful to support her head body with one hand and her head with the other, a loose grip allowing sally to move around freely in her hands without the chance of falling. "she's very friendly," she commented, admiring the way the snake was coiling around her arm, getting comfortable in its new surroundings.

"promise she won't kill me?"

"she won't kill you, lando," you reassured him, carefully taking sally from your sister's hands and into yours, before you slowly started to drape her around lando's shoulders, telling him not to move so much whilst she got comfortable, you could see the fear in his face disappear as she settled, replaced with a grin as he got oscar to take about 100 pictures of him with her around his shoulders, as if he was in his very own jungle photoshoot.

oscar stayed a couple of feet back, he got out of australia early enough he hadn't developed the nonchalant attitude towards the snakes and spiders that resided in his homeland. "you're insane." he shrugged with a laugh.

you looked back at him, the apprehension clear as day on his face, but behind that you could see he was curious, watching the way his eyes followed the snake as it moved around lando's shoulders. "want to try?" you asked, trying to read him an answer.

for the first time since bindi had brought her out, oscar took his eyes off of the snake, looking at you, an odd feeling of trust in them as he hesitated, finally letting out a breath and nodding his head, taking a step closer to you before stopping. "can you hold her with me? please?"

you remembered the way he'd confessed his fears to you earlier, how vulnerable he'd been with what was a complete stranger before today, and nodded your head, already lifting sally off of lando's shoulder, and carefully settling her across your own and oscar's shoulders, feeling the way his stiffened, as if you could feel his heartbeat racing, you placed a hand on the small off his back, bringing him back to reality as he relaxed, the sensation of the snake around his shoulder being forgotten and replaced by the burn of your hand on his back.

"see, told you it wasn't so bad." you chirped, turning slightly to face him, slow enough you didn't disturb sally, to find oscar looking down at you, breathing steady unlike yours, realising just now how close you were to him, and neither of you were doing anything to change that.

"you're far too persuasive." oscar laughed, shoulders more at ease now, comfortable with the predicament that you were in, even more so when he felt the pressure of sally on his shoulder easing as bindi attentively put her back into her habitat.

"and you're braver than i thought." you teased him, bashfully admiring the way his face lights up when he laughs, the sound captivating, you found yourself absentmindedly smiling at it, both of you falling in the back of the group as bindi took everyone to the next terrarium, the poison dart frogs standing out from the rest of the animals there.

"don't let their good looks fool you, these guys are one of the most poisonous animals around, like most guys." bindi jested, despite being in one of the happiest relationships you'd ever seen, allowing lando and oscar to get a good look at the colourful creatures. "this one is wanda," she pointed out the one closest to the front of the glass, black and red in colour, "and that one is buzz." motioning towards the black and yellow one hiding behind some of the leaves.

they watch the frogs with growing intrigue, "it's crazy how something so small can be so deadly." lando remarks, another frog coming out of hiding, a completely different colour scheme than the other two before it.

"everything plays a part in the ecosystem, that's the beauty of it." you hear robert say, and every day you swear he sounds more and more like your dad.

bindi showed them around a few of the other residents of the reptile house, the different species of lizards and the rest of the snakes weren't ones they could touch, holding too much of a risk, so the tour went rather quickly, oscar and you talking amongst yourselves for the majority of it, a complete 180 as now lando was doing most of the listening. "you're telling me, you had a snake as a pet growing up?" oscar looked at you, raising an eyebrow as if you had any reason to lie to him.

"that is what i'm telling you, my little coco." you reminisced, she was a gift on your 9th birthday, named for her rich chocolate brown colour (you weren't very creative as a child). "she was a little princess."

"a scaly, cold-blooded, princess," he muttered with a laugh, a grin forming on his pink lips. he was enjoying talking to you, getting to know you as well as he could the more as the tour went on.

"she was a cutie."

"freak." he jested, tone light and almost breathless as he shook his head again, you could instantly tell there was no malice intended.

you bumped against his shoulder, a shy smile making its way onto your face, and you almost caught yourself blushing at the proximity, the normality of it all, as if you'd known him longer than a few hours at most.

finally, bindi was finished showing around the reptile house, passing the baton on to you to finish the race. "are you guys ready to see the best part of the zoo?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as lando eagerly answered 'yes', like he was on a school field trip, and your eyes drifted to oscar, rolling his eyes as he nodded with an amused smile.

you were immediately hit by a wall of heat as you left the air-conditioned building, taking a couple of seconds to adjust back to daylight from the dark, mood lighting inside, the air had a faint scent of eucalyptus from how close you were to the koala enclosures, a short walk through the birdhouse and you were there.

the first enclosure you came across was the kangaroo walkthroughs, pointing out the animals lazing under the sun. "he looks like he could knock me out." lando eyed up a particularly buff-looking grey kangaroo who was hanging out in the back of the pack.

"he definitely could." you retorted, grinning at the brits insulted expression as you handed him and oscar the cone full of 'roo feed, stifling a laugh at the way they were instantly flocked around as they stepped inside the pen.

following in after them, you bent down to feed one of the kangaroos that had come over to you, recognising her from her distinct markings. "this little girl is teal, she's a sweetheart who loves her cuddles." as if she was listening to you, she nuzzled against your hand, scratching between her ears as he nibbled at the pellets in your hand.

oscar smiled, crouching down to your level as another kangaroo came hopping over to you, this time it was melman, and you knew he wouldn't be leaving without oscar giving him some scratches. he was apprehensive at first, letting the animal sniff at his open palm before gathering some pellets for him to eat, following your instructions as you told him to scratch behind his ears. "i understand wanting to do this every day."

"it's definitely a perk." giggling, you looked up to find lando having what was practically a stand-off with one of the joey's from across the enclosure. "he's not going to punch you," lando nodded at your words, although still, he kept his distance, listening to you as you told him to kneel down slowly, holding out his hands to the little joey before taking a handful of the food.

"this might be the best thing ever." lando's exterior damn near melted as the joey grabbed a couple of pellets with his paws, looking back at you with a grin.

"better than winning a race?"

"it's up there." he laughed, reaching out experimentally to give it a scratch.

the mclaren media team were having a field day with the content you were providing them, of lando and oscar with the snakes around the neck, although the latter looked a lot more uncomfortable, and now lando feeding and cuddling a baby kangaroo, you knew his fans were bound to go crazy over the pictures.

unapologetically, your eyes drifted again, finding yourself subconsciously smiling at the gentle kindness of oscar in front of you, his touch soft against melman, as if he would break if he was any rougher, and when a joey approaches him, he's offering her food with so much patience that it makes a saint jealous, his smile soft and effortless you're not even sure he knows he's doing it. you can't look away, his calm presence, the way he respects the space between them, it's pulling you in more than you'd wish to admit, disarming any type of defence you put up.

you blink, remembering where you are, that you're surrounded by a camera crew, and your brother and sister, and clear your throat like that'll shake it off. "alright, koala time," you say, a little too casually, handing the now empty cone back to one of the zookeepers, motioning ahead as you start walking.

oscar falls in stride beside you, still grinning, and you swear you can feel that glance he throws your way like a spark against your ribs, he's joking with lando about something, and when you look up you see how the light catches his eyes, as if he was carrying a little bit of the sun with him.

the closer you get to the koalas, the stronger the smell of the eucalyptus, and you swear you need it to clear your senses. trees branches stretch overhead, looming over and shading the area. as you approach the entrance of the enclosure, you could already see a keeper holding one of the fluffy animals, awaiting the arrival of the two drivers.

"this is tilly, she's our go-to girl for this experience, super chill and great with people," you explain, introducing her to them as they look back at the koala with wonder, lando quick to volunteer to be first to hold her.

carefully, you show lando how to stand to hold a koala; his hands clasped together forming a sort of bowl for her to sit in, telling him to keep as still as possible and to try not to make as much noise as possible.

"if i knew this is what i'd take to keep him quiet i would've brought him ages ago." you stifle a laugh at oscar's words, seeing the glare that lando was sending him, about to say something back before remembering he was to try and stay quiet.

you scoop tilly from her perch in the other keeper's arms, cradling her with practised ease, you'd been around koalas your entire life it was almost second nature at this point, and gently rest her in the bowl that lando had created with his hands. his eyes go wide, looking between you and the animal in front of him and a grin spreads across his, her soft fur warm against his shirt.

"feel how soft she is?" you ask him, taking his hand in yours and guiding it over her back, letting her settle into his arms, and he nods. "she's got super thick fur to keep her warm and dry, even when it's raining!"

tilly cuddles up against lando's chest, allowing him to gently brush one of his hands against her back, smiling from ear to ear as he gets his picture taken, not wanting to let her go. "what's the fine if i steal her?"

"lifetime ban from australia."

"i can still win the championship missing one race."

somehow, after he’d put up quite the fight, you managed to get tilly out of lando's grasp, showing oscar how to hold her, just as you had shown his teammate, and before he knew it she was being placed into his arms, soft against his exposed skin, already making herself comfortable as she moved in his arms, cuddling up against his chest.

oscar was a little unsure at first, hesitating slightly, but once she's settled in his arms, a look of awe washed over his face, glancing down at the animal below. he barely breathes, eyes wide, the corners of his mouth lifting in a slow, amazed smile. "she's... so chill," he whispers, as if afraid to break the moment. his grip is careful, respectful—he can feel the tiny claws and the steady, slow rhythm of her breathing.

"they're super chill animals." you smile, admiring the sight in front of you, he was such a natural even if he didn't know or believe it. "if you were going to be any animal, it'd definitely be a koala."

"a koala?" he echos your words, with a bemused smile glancing down at the one in his arms as if he was comparing.

"yeah, you know." you shrug as if that was enough of an explanation. "you both just have this calmness to you, but can get shit done when you need it."

his laugh reverberates around your head, hearty, warm, and real. "i'll take it, could've been an emu."

"nah, too cute to be an emu." the words are spilling out before you can stop yourself, and when you realise what you've said its too late to take it back, your eyes slowly find his, cheeks feeling hot and you can hear the rush of blood on in your ears. "i didn't just say that."

an expression you haven't seen before crosses his features, he's smug, a type of smile you want to wipe off his face forming on his lips. "yes you did."

"shut up." you quickly suggest moving on to the final part of the tour, carefully taking tilly out of oscar's hands trying to make the least amount of eye contact possible, and when you're successful, you're already leading the way back to the where you were getting the shuttle to the next part of the tour, the mclaren crew letting you know you had to wrap it up soon as they were running out of time.

the wait for the next bus isn't long, although it feels like an eternity, lando happily talking away in your ear and you politely nod, throwing in a couple of basic responses here and there and a laugh when appropriate, but you have other things on your mind. so now. as you board the shuttle bus, the atmosphere is thick with unspoken tension, what makes it worse is it's just you three and the mclaren media crew, robert and bindi resuming their duty at the zoo.

with the cameras and at least eight members of crew, it's slightly crowded, and when it comes to finding a place to stand beggars can't be choosers, you found yourself squeezed up against oscar and one of the mclaren photographers. he's holding onto one of the poles in front of him, arm stiff and silently begging lando to stop making jokes about the driver's questionable driving skills.

you glance up at him, your hand around the pole just beneath his. the shuttle bus hummed as as it wound its way through the lush paths of the zoo, sunlight dappled across the windows, reflecting back on his features, the fresh sunburn across his cheeks highlighted.

it was hard to tune lando out completely, you'd be a liar if you said he didn't have some funny jokes, but you wished he's stay silent for a few seconds, take a lesson from his much quieter teammate, who was either doing a great job of ignoring you, or was deep in existential thought.

the driver called your stop and you all huddled off, the warm air brushing against your face as the distant call of exotic birds echoed through the trees. lando and oscar are close behind, both of them looking around with the kind of wide-eyed curiosity that everyone has on their first visit to the exhibit.

"alright, welcome to the best part of the zoo." you say, grinning. "welcome to our african savanna, we imitated the ecosystem that exists here," you lead the way down the winding path, lined with acacia-like trees and tall grass, oscar finding his way by your side meanwhile lando is taking more pictures than a mom during a graduation.

the large, serengeti-inspired enclosure stretches out before you, a herd of 4 striped bodies grazing lazily under the sun, a duo of giraffes just behind them, eating leaves from a tree. lando leans on the railing, squinting, taking out his phone and getting more pictures. "mate, they look like horses in prison uniforms."

"i'd like to see you try and tame a zebra," you chuckled, lando making a promise you'd see it one day, and that you'd hold him to it. "the one that won't stop playing? that's lucas, he's easily the cheekiest boy we have, bindi says it because he's trying to impress gigi," pointing over to the zebra by the water trout, you couldn't help but giggle at the fact this was essentially just gossip with but animals.

"i hope he gets his girl."

their attention turns to the giraffes towering over the rest of the landscape, how calm they move with a sort of elegant rhythm. one ambles over to the edge of the viewing deck where a zookeeper offers visitors leafy snacks to feed them. "that's how tall lando thinks he is." the laugh fell from your lips before you could help it, feeling lando's glare from one side and oscar smiling at your reaction from the other.

"that's forest." you motion towards the tallest one at the back of the group. "he's actually the tallest in the world, and he's quite the lady's man, but he's such a sweetheart."

a zookeeper from beside hands you a bucket of fresh carrots sticks and leafy branches, hearing the soft clatter of hooves signalling the approach of the giraffes; tall, graceful, and curious. "yous wanna give it a try?" you ask, demonstrating as one of the female giraffe come up to you, zuri, steps forward, her long neck swaying gently as she eyes the food outstretched in your hands, her tongue snakes out, wrapping around the offering, and with a swift tug, it's gone.

lando's jaw drops, a slight look of disgust crossing his features. "did she just lick the branch out of your hands?"

"her tongue's nearly half a meter long," you say, taking a branch out of the bucket and passing it to him, giving oscar a few of the carrot sticks. "totally built for plucking leaves from tall trees."

oscar gives it a go next, reaching out cautiously and zuri leans in, eyes blinking slowly. the carrot sticks are flat against his hands as he holds his palm out straight, her tongue wrapping around the food and its gone. oscar looks back at you, then laughs, wiping his hand on one of the towels given. "alright, that's cool. slimy, but kind of awesome."

lando's practically itching to have a go himself and just as he extends his hand, a second giraffe swoops in from the side, gently bumping him with its head to get to the food first.

"oi! no need to fight about me," he laughs, steadying himself and you hand over another branch. "there's enough of me to go around, ladies."

you chuckle at his oblivion. "except that's zeus."

"oh." the giraffes continue feeding, taking the branches out of each of lando's hands, their calm, unbothered presence setting a peaceful rhythm for the end of the tour.

you can see the mclaren team signalling to each other behind the drivers, already beginning to walk back to where the shuttle had gotten you from, the enclosure fading behind you, sun a little lower in the sky than before casting a warm glow over the zoo, distant sounds of birds singing to each other and excited passersby.

it's only one stop on the shuttle that the fuss of getting everyone on doesn't seem with it, you’re off just as quickly as you were on, dropped off almost exactly at the zoos entrance, and the excitement in lando's jokes almost simmers out as he realises the tour was coming to an end.

the iconic australia zoo sign comes into view, bindi and robert already waiting for you as you get off the shuttle, and are thanking the mclaren crew for coming one by one before reaching the two drivers.

"thank you guys so much for coming, it was amazing to have you both here." roberts tells them with a grateful smile, lando and oscar match his energy as they thank you all for having them, letting them interact with the animals and for all the cool pictures they got, lando adding the last part.

they're coming in for hugs before you realise, feeling lando's arms around your waist and he's still cracking jokes in your ear, teasing you about oscar and you stiffen, if he'd caught you, then most definitely his teammate had too.

oscar shifts his weight a little behind him, looking almost bashful, then gives you this soft half-smile and says, "hey, uh... i was wondering—if it's not weird—and you can totally say no, can i get your number?" he glances down for a second, then meets your eyes again. "y'know... in case i've got more animal questions."

you pause, that was the one thing you weren't expecting him to say, anything from how he thought you were weird for staring at him from the very beginning, or nothing at all just a simple diplomatic hug, but not this. he takes your silence as an answer of its own, and is about to walk away when you hold onto his arm. "yeah, of course, in case you get any animal questions." oscar smiled and you blushed, taking your phone out of your back pocket and sliding it over to him, looking around to see if anyone had noticed, when you find lando with a smug smile on his face you can't help but roll your eyes.

"come on romeo!" you hear lando shout from a distance, looking over his shoulder oscar gives him a look, one that seems to keep him quiet for a few more minutes.

as oscar slips his phone back into his pocket, something shifts, a moment of soft, mutual stillness between you., it’s not awkward, it doesn’t feel like anything with him could be, just charged in the quietest, most natural way. the kind that lingers, sticks with people.

you step forward, almost instinctively, and say with a little smile, "guess i'll see you around then?"

his eyes soften the more he looks at you, a blush dusting across his sunburnt cheeks, and he nods, just once. "yeah. i hope so."

and before either of you overthinks it, you lean in, arms gently circling around him, he meets you halfway, pulling you in with that calm steadiness he carries on track, nothing rushed or overdone, just warm and sure. he smells like sunscreen and eucalyptus, maybe a hint of whatever cologne he didn't expect anyone to notice, but you noticed, the way it complimented his natural smell.

he lingers a second longer than he needs to, and when he pulls back, there's a quiet smile playing on his lips.

"for the record, i think you’re cute too,"

2K notes · View notes

cloudtransprncy · 5 months ago

Text

wyd?

IVE Yujin x Male Reader | 8094 words Tags: Exes, Car Sex, Rough & Messy, Face Riding, Overstimulation, Ass Teasing.

Six months apart, and it’s always the same—one text, three letters: wyd? You could pretend it doesn’t matter, but when it comes to Yujin, you never resist.

You're mid-round in Marvel Rivals, playing as a tiny shark that blows bubbles to heal your team. Ducking behind cover, you wait for your cooldowns to refresh while your boys call out plays and hurl mild insults in your ear. Just another night, same as always.

Then your phone buzzes. Once. Then again.

You ignore it at first, barely glancing. But something makes you check. Yujin.

wyd?

You sit back in your chair, staring at the screen. The game noise fades. You’re still, quiet enough that your homies notice. You could ignore it. Maybe you should.

It’s always her reaching out first. Always her making the move.

And you? You just… wait. Maybe that was the problem in the first place.

“Yo! Where’s my heals?” one of your friends yells as he gets mauled by Venom.

Another beat. Then you move.

“Bro, don’t tell me—”

“Man, again?”

“We’re really gonna lose our healer to his ex.”

“You know she does this on purpose, right?”

Laughter. Some exasperation. Someone sighs, everyone already know how this ends.

Your hands hover over the keyboard. The cursor blinks. Your team is mid-fight, and Jeff is already out of bubbles. Someone’s health bar is flashing red.

Another buzz.

You exhale, slow.

Then, without a word, you click out of the game, disconnect from the call, and push back from your desk.

You move through the next steps without thinking. It’s muscle memory at this point. Shower, cologne, fingers through your hair. You grab the basket from your closet—pillows, blankets, washed. You don’t need to check; you always make sure they’re clean.

It’s routine. The same every time.

For a moment, you pause. The hesitation is brief, barely even there, but it exists.

You know exactly how this night will go. How it always goes. She texts, you come. And after?

You don’t think about that part.

Your fingers tighten around your keys. You could still stay home..

Maybe this time, you don’t go. Maybe this time, you just say— "I'm tired. Cant."

The words come back too fast, too easy. The way she got mad. The way it escalated. How a stupid thing turned into six months of this.

Then your phone buzzes again.

You grab your keys.

The drive to Yujin’s place is always the same. The same route, the same practiced motions . If she ever thought you weren’t around enough, then why does it feel like every street in this city leads back to her?

Three days together. Then one missed night. That’s all it took?

The afternoon sun filters through the windshield of your mom’s SUV, the sun glaring against your eyes. The city blurs past, the same roads, the same turns. And every time, you think about it—why did you even break up in the first place? It felt dumb then. It still feels dumb now.

Maybe if you had just texted first, or if you had just said the thing she was waiting to hear, you wouldn’t be here six months later, pretending this was still casual.

You pull up in front of Yujin’s house, engine idling, the warmth of the afternoon settling over the quiet neighborhood.

The sun hits the pavement, the air thick with that mid-day stillness.

That same familiar house—its windows dim, the curtains drawn, the driveway exactly as you remember it. You stare at it for a moment, the weight of memory settling in. Then, the front door creaks open, just enough for her to slip through.

She moves carefully, pausing to nudge the door shut with her foot so her dog doesn’t slip past. A practiced motion. Something second nature by now. She scans the street, spotting your car. No reaction, just a small exhale.

She’s wearing a fitted pastel pink long sleeve that rides up just enough to show a sliver of her midriff and loose grey sweatpants, the fabric pooling over her Crocs. Her hair falls naturally past her shoulders, a few loose strands framing her face. Glasses rest on the bridge of her nose, slightly oversized, making her look softer in the afternoon light.

Effortless.

Casual.

Like she didn’t think twice before stepping out. Phone in hand, she walks down the driveway.

She slides into the passenger seat without a word. The door clicks shut, sealing you both inside the familiar silence.

Her fragrance fills the car instantly—lychee, rose, vanilla, and something undeniably summer. It lingers in the air, familiar, the kind that sticks to your clothes, your skin, something you used to know too well.

Without thinking, you reach over and pull her seatbelt across her, clicking it into place. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react—it’s rehearsed, something that no longer needs permission. Her fragrance lingers in the small space between you, sweet and warm, and for a second, it’s like nothing has changed. She exhales softly, a quiet hum, her usual way of saying thanks.

Your eyes meet for half a second. No greetings. No small talk. Just routine. She shifts, tucking one leg up onto the seat, sitting cross-legged like she always does, settling in like she never left. It’s unconscious, effortless, like muscle memory. You don’t say anything, but you notice.

Before you even reach for the gear shift, she leans forward, grabbing your phone from the dash.

Without hesitation, she unlocks it—still remembers your password. A flick through Spotify, a song queued like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

She leans back, satisfied, as the opening notes play. The sunlight slants through the windshield, catching on her features as you ease onto the road. The city hums around you, strip malls and quiet residential streets stretching under the afternoon sky.

The air between you is thick, filled with everything unspoken.

Six months since the breakup. Countless times in this same car.

The silence is comfortable. Or maybe just necessary. Either way, you don’t break it.

The drive is automatic, familiar. The streets, the turns, the stretch of road leading up to the overlook—it all blends together, like a loop you’ve never broken. The city fades behind you, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over quiet streets, and ahead, the ocean stretches out, shimmering under the golden light.

The ocean stretches out before you, endless and bright, the water catching the sun’s soft haze. The sky, still blue, deepens with hints of orange, the afternoon slipping into something softer.

You step out just long enough to fold the seats down. Neither of you speak. You don’t need to. The ocean breeze rushes in as soon as the doors open—salty, heavy, wrapping around you. The seats creak, metal clicking into place. Blankets rustle as you spread them out, fabric settling into familiar folds.

And then you’re inside again, the doors shut, the world locked out. Blankets and pillows surround you, cushioning the space you’ve built in the back of your mom’s SUV. A makeshift bed, one you’ve laid out too many times to count.

Yujin exhales beside you, sitting cross-legged, her glasses now set aside, forgotten. One hand scrolls through her phone while the other idly toys with the hem of her sleeve. The soft tapping of her long nails against the screen is steady, rhythmic, filling the quiet between you. You watch her for a second longer than you should, something restless curling in your stomach.

Then she moves.

No hesitation. No preamble. She swings a leg over you, her crocs slipping off in the process, leaving her in just her socks. Her phone falls somewhere beside her, forgotten. Her hands find your shoulders, sliding down your chest, fingers curling into fabric. Her nails, cool against your skin even through your shirt.

She kisses you first. Hungry, teasing, her lips parting just enough to make you chase, to make you want. As she deepens it, her hips shift, her weight pressing against you. She’s already shimmying out of her sweatpants, lifting her hips just enough to kick them aside. Her long sleeve is still on, her legs now bare, her body pressing closer. Your hands slide down, resting against the curve of her bare ass, her skin warm under your touch. Everything shifts—heat rising, breath hitching, hands gripping skin, fabric pulling.

"You always let me do this," she murmurs against your lips, breathless but smug. "So easy for me." Another kiss, deeper this time, her teeth catching your bottom lip before she pulls back, just enough to look at you.

"What if I stopped reaching out?" she taunts, her fingers trailing up your chest. "You’d never text me first, would you?"

Her nails scrape lightly down your torso, fingers catching on fabric. She tugs at your shirt, not pulling it off yet—just toying with it, teasing. "No one fucks you like I do."

Her fingers slip beneath your shirt, nails grazing over your stomach before she pushes it up, just enough to feel your skin against hers. Then she pushes you back, guiding you down onto the blankets, crawling up towards your face with purpose. Her hips roll against you, teasing, her breath warm as she lingers above you.

She doesn’t bother taking off her panties—black lace, delicate, pressed against you. Instead, she hooks a finger under the fabric, pushing it to the side. For a moment, you see her—slick, smooth, her folds glistening in the dim light filtering through the SUV. The sight makes your breath catch, your fingers twitch against her thighs.

Then she lowers herself onto you, slow, deliberate. The heat of her, the slick press of her skin, makes you exhale sharply. Her scent is thick, dizzying, filling your lungs as she settles above you. One hand still braced against the ceiling, the other sliding from her panties to your hair, fingers threading through, tugging with just enough force to make sure you’re exactly where she wants you.

"Open up," she murmurs, her voice low, breath hitching. "Come on, make me fucking lose it."

Her thighs tense against your cheeks as she settles onto your mouth, her heat pressing against you, her scent—heady, intoxicating—filling every inhale. Your fingers dig into her skin, keeping her steady as she gasps, barely audible, before bracing herself. One hand shoots up, pressing against the ceiling of the car to keep balance, while your fingers dig harder into her thighs, your nails pressing into soft flesh, marking her there, leaving behind faint red streaks.

Her other hand keeps her panties pushed aside, a fleeting hesitation, as if teasing herself with the idea of restraint. But it doesn’t last. The pleasure builds too quickly, and soon, she abandons the fabric entirely, fingers slipping into your hair instead, gripping, using it for leverage as she rolls her hips against your mouth.

"That’s it," she breathes, half a moan, half praise. "You know how to use that mouth, don’t you?"

Your hands grip her thighs, keeping her open as your tongue glides over her. When you suck just right, she shudders—sharp, uncontrollable.

You pull her closer, tongue pressing, lips wrapping around the sensitive bud, and she whimpers, her body giving the first sign of unraveling. You feel the shift in her, the control slipping, her thighs twitching as she tries to keep herself steady.

Then you suck harder, your teeth grazing just enough to leave a spark of pleasure, and her breath stutters. Her head tilts back, the sound of her moans filling the car, swallowed only by the thick afternoon air. She tastes like salt, like something warm and familiar, like something you’d get drunk on if you weren’t already drowning in her.

You know what she likes. You know how to pull those breathy little gasps from her throat, the way her thighs twitch when you flick your tongue just right. So you give it to her. Slow at first, teasing, dragging your tongue along her folds before pressing in, sucking at her clit just enough to make her shudder.

"Fuck, yeah," she breathes, her fingers twisting in your hair, her hips rolling down against your mouth. "Just like that. Don't stop."

You don’t.

You nip at her, a sharp little bite to her folds, then another to her clit, knowing she loves it just rough enough to make her squirm. She jerks, gasping, and you feel her hand brace against the ceiling again, her other gripping your hair even tighter.

"Holy shit," she pants, voice dripping with pleasure, with something wicked and teasing beneath it. "You love this, don’t you? Bet you’d fucking live down there if I let you."

You groan against her, the vibration making her moan louder, her hips grinding down against you, using your mouth to chase the high building inside her. You can feel it in the way her thighs tremble, the way her breath hitches, her body tightening, straining, needing more.

So you give her more. You grip her thighs harder, spreading her open as your tongue works faster, hungrier, dragging her closer and closer to the edge.

She’s wetter now, the slickness coating your lips, your chin, the sounds between you growing filthier, wetter. You flick your tongue over her clit before pressing in deeper, letting yourself sink into the heat of her. You suck, pull, letting her ride the sensation, letting her lose herself against you.

She whimpers, breath stuttering, her nails digging into your scalp. "Fuck—" she gasps, her voice ragged. Her hips stutter, like she’s caught between wanting to grind harder and losing control entirely. "You’re—god, you’re making a fucking mess."

You groan against her, the sound vibrating through her, making her jolt. She gasps, her thighs clenching, and you use that moment to grip her tighter, dragging her down against your mouth. You keep her there, force her to grind against you, matching the rhythm of your tongue. The wet sounds between you grow filthier, obscene, each flick and suck making her shudder harder.

She jerks when you sputter against her folds, your breath hot and heavy, the mess between her thighs smearing against your jaw. Her fingers twitch in your hair, but then she lets go—her hands leaving your head, reaching forward instead, gripping onto the back of the seats in front of her as she steadies herself, her body arching as pleasure overtakes her.

"Shit—" her voice wavers, fingers tightening in your hair. "You love this, don’t you?"

You only answer by sucking harder, wrapping your lips around her clit and flicking your tongue in quick, insistent strokes. She lets out a sharp moan, her entire body shuddering as she fights to keep herself steady, one hand still bracing against the ceiling, the other yanking at your hair, desperate and needy.

She’s losing it now, panting, her thighs trembling around you, her slickness coating everything between you. You feel her breaking, her voice going breathy, whimpering curses spilling from her lips, and you know she’s right there, right at the edge, ready to fall apart.

Then you attack her clit, alternating between sucking and flicking your tongue over it before dipping back down to her folds, teasing her, drawing out every shaky breath. Her thighs clench around your head, her grip on the seats tightening as her back arches.

Her lips part, breath stuttering, and for a second, she fights it—bites down on her lip, eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing. "I'm—" she chokes out, voice breaking. "Gonna—fuck—" But you don’t let up. You suck harder, press your tongue flat against her clit and flick in rapid strokes, pulling a soft, desperate scream from her throat.

Her whole body tenses, her stomach tightening as she crashes into it, hips jerking against your mouth as pleasure rips through her. Her fingers slip, barely holding onto the seats before she gives up entirely, body shaking, breath coming in broken gasps as she rides out every wave, every pulse, every sharp aftershock that makes her legs tremble around you.

Her body is still shaking when you pull her down, her legs weak around you, her breath coming in slow, uneven gasps. She’s wrecked, undone from the way you just had her, but you don’t give her a chance to recover. You guide her down onto the blankets, the weight of your body pressing against hers, and she lets you, pliant beneath you.

Her panties are a mess, soaked through, sticking to her skin from where you had your mouth on her. You hook your fingers under the lace and pull them down, dragging them over her thighs, her knees, tossing them somewhere behind you. She shivers as the cool air hits her, still sensitive, still throbbing. Your hands settle on her inner thighs, spreading her apart, your fingers teasing, stroking lightly over her slick folds. She twitches, her breath catching.

"Sensitive?" you murmur, rubbing slow, just barely grazing her clit. She jerks, biting her lip, trying to suppress the reaction. "Still so wet for me."

She exhales shakily, half a glare, half anticipation. "Then do something about it." She’s bare beneath you now, except for her top, still clinging to her frame, pushed up slightly from where she’d been grinding against your face. You could take it off, but not yet. Instead, you shift back onto your knees, pushing your sweatpants down, kicking them off until they’re lost somewhere in the mess of blankets. Your cock springs free, aching, flushed, and heavy in your hand. Yujin’s eyes flick down immediately, her lips parting, a quiet hum of approval slipping from her throat. She licks her lips, reaching out, fingers brushing against your length—

You catch her wrist before she can wrap her hand around you, pushing it away. Her eyes flick up to yours, a challenge in them, but you don’t waver. Not this time. "Not right now," you murmur, your voice firm, your grip on her tightening just slightly. "I’m in charge now."

Your cock is already aching, flushed and heavy in your hand as you settle between her legs, pressing the tip against her entrance, dragging it through the slick heat of her.

She exhales sharply, her fingers flexing against the blankets. "Fuck—"

You don’t push in yet. You drag the head of your cock against her, teasing, smearing her wetness along your length. She squirms, her hips shifting, her body already responding.

"Don’t tease," she mutters, eyes half-lidded, pupils blown. "You know I can take it."

She gasps at the stretch, her nails scraping against your shoulders.

You don’t respond, just grip her hips, pushing in slow, deliberate, feeling the way she stretches around you. The heat of her is overwhelming, the contrast stark between the cool air against your skin and the wet, pulsing warmth surrounding you. Her breath catches, fingers tightening on your arms, her back arching instinctively.

"Fuck—" she gasps, nails digging in deeper as you fold her legs up, pressing her knees toward her chest, opening her up more. The shift makes her whimper, her body clenching around you, pulling you in deeper, tighter. The pressure is unbearable, intoxicating, her slickness making every inch of you ache as you fill her completely.

"God," she whimpers, her fingers twisting into the blanket beneath her. "You’re so deep—"

You bite down against her neck, hard, sucking at the skin there, not enough to bruise but enough to make her squirm beneath you. She moans, tilting her head to the side, giving you more, her body shifting, arching up against you.

"You love this," you murmur against her skin, dragging your teeth over the flushed heat of her throat before biting down again, harder this time.

She gasps, nails digging into your back. "Yeah," she exhales, breathy, wrecked. "But you love this more."

She’s teasing, but you can hear it, the slight break in her voice when you pull back and thrust into her harder. Her body jolts beneath you, her thighs tensing around your hips as she struggles to keep up with the pace you’re setting.

Her hands find your arms, nails biting into your skin, holding on tight as if grounding herself. It only makes you go faster, makes you push deeper, makes her moan louder.

"Fuck—" she gasps, her legs trembling. "Harder. Don’t hold back."

You don’t. You grip her hips, hold her down like you’re trying to leave something permanent, like you want her to feel this for days. The sound of skin against skin fills the air, loud and messy, her moans breaking between sharp, breathless gasps.

She reaches for you, drags you down into a kiss, messy and desperate, her tongue pressing against yours, her teeth catching your bottom lip before she pulls away, panting.

"Knew you couldn’t take it slow," she murmurs, half-laughing, voice shaking.

You tug at her hair in response, pulling her head back slightly, making her gasp. "Shut up," you mutter against her throat before sucking another mark there, another place to remind her of this later.

She just smirks, but it melts into something softer, her breath stuttering when you hit just the right spot inside her, the one that makes her moan louder, makes her nails claw at your shoulders, her body clinging to yours, desperate, wrecked.

You shift, angling deeper, pushing her knees higher, folding her into herself. She gasps, her back arching, her hands gripping onto your forearms, holding tight as if you’ll slip away. Her shirt is still on, bunched up beneath her ribs, exposing the taut lines of her stomach, the soft ridges of muscle tensing beneath you. You drag a hand up her body, palm pressing flat against her neck, feeling the quick, frantic beat of her pulse beneath your fingers.

"Oh f—" she whines, breath catching as you thrust harder, deeper, grinding your hips into hers. She’s trembling, her body taut beneath you.

You shift too far back, the heat of her slipping away as your cock accidentally slides out, leaving you both gasping at the sudden loss. "Please," she whimpers, her voice breathless, raw. Her hands tighten against your arms, her body arching up, desperate to pull you back in.

But you don’t give in right away. Instead, you slap your cock against her soaked pussy, the wet sound sharp and obscene between you. She jerks, a sharp inhale, a full-body shudder, her thighs twitching. Then you do it again, dragging the head of your cock against her clit before pulling back and doing it once more. One hand stays firm on her hip, keeping her in place, while the other slips down to toy with her clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles.

Her body tightens beneath you, her breath stuttering, her fingers clawing at your skin. "Fuck—" she gasps, her voice breaking. She’s almost folded over at this point, her knees pressing against her chest, fully open, fully exposed to you. The sight alone makes your cock throb.

Finally, you give in, pushing back inside in one hard stroke, knocking the air from her lungs, pulling another sharp gasp from her lips. As soon as you're buried deep again, you shift your grip, pressing her left leg down while keeping the other folded high, trapping her beneath you. The angle makes her moan, high and shaky, her hands grasping blindly at you.

One of your hands moves up, cupping her face, thumb brushing over her parted lips as you thrust into her again. The other stays between her legs, fingers rubbing at her clit, teasing, pushing her further into that desperate, needy space. She's almost folded in half, her body giving beneath you, her moans turning into broken gasps.

The heat inside the car is suffocating now, sweat slicking both of you. Her shirt clings to her body, damp, sticking to her skin, darkened in places where the fabric is soaked through. Strands of her hair stick to her forehead, damp with sweat, and her breath is hot against your face, panting, uneven. Every time you thrust into her, a soft whimper spills from her lips, her voice high, desperate, shuddering through each gasping exhale.

You lean down, pressing your forehead against hers, your breaths mingling, heavy and uneven. She tilts her chin up, catching your lips, kissing you deep, messy, her nails scraping lightly against your arms. It’s all hunger, all desperation, neither of you slowing down, neither of you wanting to.

You thrust into her a few more times, each movement deep, precise, shifting your angle with every stroke to watch how she reacts, how her breath stutters, how her body grips you tighter. Her moans turn guttural, almost a growl, her fingers gripping at your arms, her body arching against yours.

For the last few thrusts, you bring your hand to her throat, gripping firmly, not just to hold her but to claim her. Her breath stutters, a strangled moan slipping out, her body tightening beneath you. Her eyes flutter, her mouth parting as she surrenders to it, to you. Her moans turn guttural, almost feral as her body clenches around you, desperate, overwhelmed, lost in the sheer force of it all.

Then it hits you—the burn in your muscles, the weight of exhaustion creeping in. You push in one last time before pulling out, panting, sweat dripping from your brow onto her collarbone.

For a moment, neither of you speak. The only sound is your breathing, heavy, uneven, filling the small space between you as you both lie there, gasping in silence. You shift back, sitting on your ankles, thighs burning from exertion. Yujin just lays there, boneless, her body slack against the blankets, her chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths. Her arms are sprawled out at her sides, fingers twitching slightly, as if she’s still processing what just happened.

The silence lingers, heavy with the weight of everything that just happened, bodies still humming with heat. Yujin is the first to move. Her breath is slow, measured, before she finally tilts her head up, eyes still half-lidded, and murmurs, "Come here."

She reaches toward you, fingers curling slightly, and you don’t hesitate. You help her sit up, hands firm but careful, steadying her as she adjusts. Then, before you can react, she shifts forward, pushing you back until you’re leaning against the interior wall of the SUV. The blankets beneath you are damp with sweat, the air inside still thick, still heavy. She kneels in front of you, her legs folded beneath her, her gaze dark and unreadable.

She starts with her top, but there’s no rush, no fluid motion. She’s still catching her breath, her movements slow, deliberate. Her fingers grip the fabric at her shoulder, tugging at one of the sleeves, pulling her arm free. Then the other, sliding her limbs out one at a time before finally peeling the tank over her head and discarding it beside her.

Your eyes track every shift, every subtle flex of her muscles beneath sweat-dampened skin. Her bra is next. She reaches behind her, fingers fumbling slightly, and you move to help, undoing the clasp with ease. She lets the straps fall down her arms, and you brush them off her shoulders, sliding the fabric down and away until she’s fully bare before you.

She shifts slightly, adjusting her position without thinking—one leg bent closer to her, the other stretched out at an angle, her feet still covered in those white socks. Her body is tight, toned but soft in the right places, the way she carries herself effortless. Then she reaches up, arms stretching, pulling her hair into a loose bun to keep it out of her face. The movement lifts her chest, elongates the lines of her body—the curve of her waist, the soft definition of her abs, the smooth dip of her armpits as her arms stretch overhead. The tendons in her neck shift, her head tilting slightly, lips parting just so. Strands of damp hair stick to the sides of her face, and for a moment, all you can do is watch, hunger curling in your stomach. Your mouth waters.

You lean in, pressing your lips to the side of her neck, tasting the sweat that lingers there. She exhales, tilting her head slightly, letting you in. You trail kisses lower, down to her shoulders, dragging your mouth along the curve of her collarbone. Your hands find her waist, fingers kneading into her skin, feeling the warmth of her beneath your palms.

Then lower. Your mouth finds her chest, your lips brushing over the swell of her breasts before you take one in your hand, your thumb tracing over the sensitive skin. She shudders, a quiet gasp slipping past her lips, and you revel in the way she reacts, the way she melts into your touch. Your mouth follows, lips parting against her skin, tongue flicking over the peak before you suck gently, savoring the taste of her. Your hands roam, caressing, feeling, groping—memorizing the shape of her, the softness, the heat.

She sighs, threading her fingers into your hair, tilting her head down just enough to watch you. There’s no urgency now, just this—just the feel of her, the press of your mouth, the warmth pooling between you as you take your time, exploring every inch of her bared skin.

She lets out a hushed moan before pressing against your chest, gently pushing you back until your shoulders meet the SUV wall. You barely have time to react before she turns around, shifting into your lap. Her knees slide under yours, her body fitting against you perfectly as she moves closer, her back arching slightly.

Then, slowly, she spreads herself open—her fingers parting her ass cheeks, exposing everything to you. Her pussy lips glisten, her tight hole stretching just slightly with the movement, teasing you with the sight. Your cock twitches, aching, as you instinctively reach down, guiding yourself against her folds. The heat of her, the slickness, sends a shudder down your spine.

She shifts back, taking you in slow, the stretch making both of you groan. The grip of her around you is almost unbearable, pulling you in deeper inch by inch, her breath shaky as she adjusts. You watch the way her body takes you, the way she exhales, trembling slightly as she sinks further, her hands bracing against your thighs for balance.

Then she moves. Slowly at first, lifting herself up before sinking back down, her rhythm changing. It’s not bouncing anymore—it’s deeper, slower, a deliberate grind. Each roll of her hips forces you in at a different angle, dragging against every inch of her. It’s slicker, hotter, the sound of her taking you deep filling the thick air, the obscene wetness between you making every thrust a decadent mess. Your grip tightens, your fingers flexing against her hips, nails pressing slightly into the flesh as she grinds deeper, dragging pleasure from both of you in slow, devastating waves. The muscles in her back flex, taut beneath the dim light filtering through the SUV windows. Her breath stutters, a moan slipping out between her parted lips.

You groan, gripping her hips, feeling the shift of her muscles under your fingertips, the subtle dip of her spine flexing with every bounce. Your hands explore, trailing up her back, tracing the defined ridges, the smooth stretch of skin as she moves. One hand shifts higher, fingers spreading over the back of her head, gripping, grounding her as she rocks against you. The friction, the slick heat of her, has you clenching your jaw, your fingers digging into her skin. Her head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut, her lips parting with another breathy moan.

"Fuck," you mutter, the word slipping out unfiltered, guttural.

She lets out something close to a whimper, her body shivering from the way you're holding her, guiding her down harder each time. Sweat beads along her spine, her muscles shifting beneath her skin, the dip of her back deepening as she tilts her body forward, adjusting. Strands of her loose bun begin slipping, stray hairs sticking to the back of her damp neck. She keeps one hand planted on the blankets to steady herself, the other lifting to the back of her head, holding her hair up—displaying herself for you. You know she’s doing this for you. She knows it too.

Her back, arched, muscles shifting under sweat-damp skin, the flex of her stomach tightening with every movement. Your cock twitches inside her, and she gasps, breath catching, body momentarily tensing before sinking back into the motion. Your own shirt clings to your skin, soaked through, suffocating in the best way. Sweat drips from your temple, slides down the curve of your jaw. The windows are fogged, the air so thick with heat and breath and lust that every inhale feels like a drug. And still, you can’t get enough. You can feel the sweat pooling between your shoulder blades, the fabric growing heavier against your skin, but you don’t care.

You don’t give her a chance to adjust. One moment, she’s grinding against you, taking everything you give her, the next, something surges through you—your body coming alive again, energy surging back into your limbs, your need for her taking over completely. You grip her waist, lifting her slightly before pushing her forward, pressing her down onto the blankets. Her breath stutters, her body folding into itself, her knees sliding apart as she falls into position—ass up, face down, her cheek pressed against the damp fabric beneath her. It’s different now. You’re not catching your breath anymore. You’re in control again, and you’re going to use it.

The shift is seamless. You’re still inside her, still buried deep, and you don’t stop moving. The new angle makes her whimper, her fingers curling into the blankets, gripping them like they’re the only thing keeping her grounded. She’s already trembling, her thighs quaking from the force of every thrust.

You pick up the pace. Rougher now, deeper, urgent. Each thrust has her jolting forward, her body pliant, wrecked beneath you. Your hands roam, running up her bare back, her waist, gripping her hips, keeping her right where you want her. Sweat rolls down her spine, the slick heat of her skin under your palms intoxicating. She’s so open like this, so exposed, and she moans like she knows it, like she loves it.

You know exactly what to do next, exactly how to unravel her completely.

You bring your thumb to your mouth, wetting it thoroughly, dragging it across your tongue, coating it in spit before pressing it against her puckered hole. The slickness makes her jolt, a shudder rippling through her spine as you circle slow, teasing, pushing just enough to make her gasp. Her entire body tenses, a sharp cry ripping from her throat. You keep fucking into her, keeping time with the way you play with her, pressing, circling, easing her into it. Every motion makes her squirm, her moans growing louder, breaking into desperate whimpers as she pushes back against you, needing more.

""Oh—fuck—oh my—please—" she chokes out, voice catching on every syllable, her body trembling like she’s unraveling at the seams. Her fingers claw at the blankets, grasping for something, anything, but it’s useless. She can’t ground herself, not when you keep working her open, not when every slow press makes her shudder, makes her walls flutter around you. Her legs twitch under you, every muscle taut, waiting, wanting more.

You push a little more, not inside, just enough to make her feel it, and she screams, her body shuddering, the sound raw, helpless. Her muscles tense, legs trembling, and then she lets go, completely, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You press your hand into her lower back, keeping her down, controlling the way she takes it. "Take it," you murmur, voice low, firm, the heat in your words making her moan even louder.

"Play with my ass—yes—" she babbles, voice high, wrecked, her mouth hanging open, drool slipping from the corner of her lips. She’s almost crying, her body shaking beneath you, lost in it, falling apart in your hands. Her fingers dig into the blankets, nails scraping, her moans breaking apart as she pushes back against you, desperate for more.

You grip the back of her neck, pressing her further into the blankets, keeping her exactly where you want her. Then you slap her face—light but firm, just enough to make her gasp, her eyes fluttering, her breath stalling for a second before she moans, louder, messier. Drool pools beneath her cheek, her body trembling, fully at your mercy.

You pull out abruptly, and she whimpers, her pussy clenching around nothing, her body instinctively pressing back like she can pull you inside again. Instead, you bring your fingers to her, slipping them in deep, curling, fucking her with them until she’s writhing, moaning in broken, incoherent strings. Her body tightens, her walls fluttering around your fingers, and then you push back into her, filling her in one hard thrust.

You do it again. And again. Pulling out, fingering her, fucking her, over and over, building her up higher, pushing her closer each time. She’s shaking now, her voice raw, nearly sobbing into the blankets.

"Fuck—you’re gonna make me cum again," she gasps, her words slurring, nearly lost in her moans.

"Then do it," you murmur, gripping her hip, slamming into her harder.

"Faster—please—" she begs, her entire body convulsing, her arms writhing against the blankets. You obey without hesitation, thrusting into her as hard and fast as your legs will let you. Your muscles burn, your thighs trembling from exertion, but you don’t stop, not when she’s begging, not when her voice is breaking apart.

Her pussy clenches around you, gripping you tight, sucking you in, the wet heat dragging you deeper with every stroke. The sounds between you are obscene—slick, messy, the sharp slap of skin against skin echoing inside the vehicle, mixing with her breathless, desperate cries.

She jerks beneath you, back arching, her entire body locking up as the tension snaps. "Oh—fuck—I'm—" Her voice cuts off into a strangled scream, her pussy fluttering, spasming around your cock as she cums. You don’t slow down. If anything, you fuck her harder, driving into her through the unbearable sensitivity, through the overwhelming rush that has her shaking beneath you.

Her body writhes, her moans dissolving into helpless whimpers, her fingers clawing at the blankets. She’s sobbing, wrecked, unable to form words, her body so lost in it that she’s barely holding herself up. The car rocks with the force of your thrusts, windows fogged, the air thick with sweat, heat, desperation.

You tighten your grip, fingers pressing into her hip, into her throat, into her ass—claiming every inch of her, making sure she feels everything, making sure she knows there’s nothing else but this, but you. She whines, twitching, sensitive and overwhelmed, yet still pushing back against you, still taking all of it.

The car rocks with the force of your thrusts, the air thick, humid, the scent of sweat and sex drowning you both. You feel it then—That familiar heat curling in your spine, the pulsing, aching pressure that tells you you’re close. Too close.

And so you stop.

You pull out, panting, your cock throbbing, aching, but you don’t let go. Not yet. You want to drag this out, savor it, enjoy her fully, completely. You want to make this last.

And yet, as you look down at her, something inside you tightens—not just from sex. The blankets are twisted beneath her, damp with sweat, her ass still arched, her back curving like something carved from heat and hunger. But it’s her breathing—ragged, slow, mouth parted against the blankets—that freezes you. The way she trembles, wrecked yet impossibly beautiful.

Your hands twitch, wanting to pull her back in, but you don’t. Not yet. Instead, you just watch—every shiver, every unsteady breath. She’s a mess, undone beneath you, and somehow, that feels inevitable.

You shouldn’t be thinking like that. But fuck, she’s still so hot. And she’s still Yujin.

You swallow it down.

She stirs, shifting slightly, her breath still shaky. Then she turns her head toward you, her eyes woozy, hazy, her hair sticking to her damp skin. She blinks slowly, lips parted, breath uneven.

"You… cum next," she slurs, her voice soft, cock-drunk, barely able to form the words. Her body still trembles, wrecked and used, but the way she looks at you makes your stomach twist, heat curling in your chest. For the first time all night, the air feels different.

She shifts, moving with a lazy kind of determination, and before you can react, she flips herself over, swinging a leg over your waist, straddling you face-to-face. Her body still trembles, breath still shaky, but her eyes lock onto yours, something heated, something unspoken passing between you.

She doesn’t give you a choice. Her hands find the hem of your shirt, tugging at it, dragging the damp fabric up and over your head. You let her take it, barely breathing as she tosses it aside, her hands already back on you, tracing the sweat-slicked lines of your shoulders, your chest, your neck. Then she leans in—teeth grazing your skin, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone, your jaw, your throat. She sucks at your skin, bites, her nails scraping lightly over your ribs, down your stomach, leaving you raw under her touch.

You groan, hands finding her waist, holding her close. She’s burning against you, skin against skin, the heat between you unbearable in the best way. The windows are fogged, the scent of sweat, sex, and her filling your lungs. Her lips brush your ear, and then she whispers something teasing, something possessive, something she doesn’t quite mean—but maybe she does.

She sinks down, slow, taking you in inch by inch. A sharp inhale leaves both of you as she takes you in, her fingers digging into your shoulders, clutching at you like she needs something to hold onto. She exhales, forehead pressing against yours, her breath warm, shaky. You can feel everything—the way her walls flutter around you, the way her nails dig into your skin, the way her thighs tense as she adjusts to the depth.

And then she moves.

It’s different like this. No frantic pace, no desperate urgency. Just this—her, guiding the rhythm, rolling her hips slow, dragging you deeper into her heat. Her hands trail over your chest, fingertips gliding through the sweat beading along your skin, tracing the sharp lines of your torso like she’s memorizing you. Then she leans forward, pressing her lips to your neck, kissing, tasting, sighing against you as she moves.

She takes your hands, guiding them over her body—up her sides, over the curve of her breasts, down to her waist. She shudders when your palms spread over her back, pressing her closer, her chest flush against yours. Every slow rock of her hips forces out a shaky breath, a soft moan into the humid air between you.

Her lips find yours. A deep kiss—nothing rushed, nothing sloppy, just deep. She kisses you like she wants to drown in you, her fingers tangling in your hair, her body tightening around you, her breath uneven as she pulls away only to come back again. And again.

She smiles, lazy, breathless, her lips just barely grazing yours. "You’re close, aren’t you?"

You swallow hard, your grip tightening against her waist. She knows you are. She can feel it.

"Where do you want it?" you rasp, barely recognizing your own voice.

She doesn’t hesitate. "Inside."

Your body tenses. For six months, you’ve never done this. Always pulled out, always left it on her back, her stomach, her tongue. But this time—this time, she doesn’t let you. Her hands curl against your shoulders, her body pressing down harder, holding you there.

"Inside," she repeats, her voice softer now, but firm. No room for argument.

She leans in, lips brushing against your ear, breath hot, sticky with everything between you. "Fill me up."

Your stomach tightens, your grip on her waist flexing. She knows exactly what she’s doing, how to draw you deeper into the feeling, how to make you lose yourself in her completely. Her sweat mixes with yours, bodies slick, the air thick, humid, unbearable. She’s so close, her forehead pressing against yours, the wet strands of her hair sticking to your temples. Her voice—low, honeyed, almost teasing—sends a deep, primal pulse through you. "I want to feel you. All of you."

She rolls her hips, slow, deep, dragging the moment out, making you feel every inch of her around you, gripping you, milking you. Your whole body tightens, heat flooding your spine, pooling low in your stomach, curling tighter with every deliberate grind of her hips. It’s not just sex anymore. It never was.

"Fuck—," you choke out, barely able to breathe past it, past the weight of her around you, the way her walls squeeze, coaxing you closer, making it impossible to hold on.

"Do it," she murmurs, lips brushing against your ear, voice dripping with something dangerous, something sweet. "I want all of it."

Your stomach clenches, heat rising sharp and fast, spiraling through your spine like wildfire. It builds, unbearable, rolling through your muscles, making your breath hitch, your grip on her tightening like you’re trying to hold onto something slipping through your fingers. Your whole body seizes, every nerve burning as the pleasure crashes through you. It explodes in sharp pulses, radiating outward, drowning you in the moment as your hips jerk up, pushing deeper, filling her completely. Your jaw clenches, your hips snap up, burying yourself as deep as you can go.

"Shit—I'm—" The words barely make it out before you shudder, the release hitting you so hard it nearly knocks you out. But before you can even finish saying it, she grabs your shoulders, pulling herself down against you, her lips crashing into yours. She kisses you through it, deep, needy, like she wants to consume every last sound, every breathless moan spilling from your throat.

Her arms wrap around you, her nails digging into your back as her walls clench down around you, milking every last drop, her body pulling you in like she never wants to let go. She gasps into your mouth, her breath stuttering, her whole body trembling as she takes everything you give her. Your mind blanks, everything narrowing to this—the slick warmth of her wrapped around you, the way she shivers, the way she feels, completely, entirely yours. It lingers—hot, overwhelming, raw. Different. Deliberate. Something neither of you acknowledge, but both of you feel.

Your body is still pulsing with aftershocks, but your mind is clear. Maybe clearer than it’s been in months.

Her lips are still on yours, the kiss deep, unhurried now, like neither of you wants to break it first. Like neither of you knows what happens when you do. Her hands stay on your shoulders, fingers light, trailing over your skin, and your own hands settle against her back, keeping her close, not yet ready to let go.

She’s still sitting on you, still holding you inside her, her breath shaky against your mouth. She exhales through her nose, her forehead pressing against yours, and for the first time all night, the silence between you is loud.

She’s warm, slick, sticky against you, the sweat between your bodies making it impossible to tell where you end and she begins. The SUV is stifling, the windows fogged, the scent of heat and sex thick in the air, but neither of you moves to break away.

You swallow, your throat dry. Your hands flex on her waist, gripping, grounding. The weight of her is still there, her warmth sinking into you, pressing into places you don’t want to acknowledge. Then, because you always do, you ask—“Was it good?”

Her eyes flick up to meet yours, heavy-lidded, unreadable, and for a second, she doesn’t answer. Then she exhales a laugh, something soft, shaking her head slightly.

“You always ask,” she murmurs, and it should be dismissive, the way it usually is, the way she usually just brushes past it. But this time, she lingers. Her fingers skate up, push damp strands of hair from your forehead, her thumb brushing lightly over your temple before pulling away, but not completely. Her other hand stays against your chest, her palm flat, feeling your heartbeat, like she’s holding onto the moment itself.

“Yeah,” she finally says. Then, quieter, more real: “Yeah. It was.”

It shouldn’t feel different. But it does.

Her body shifts slightly, and you can still feel her around you, still tight, still there, and you realize you don’t want to move. Not yet. Maybe not at all. Your hands slide down to her waist, grounding yourself, feeling the warmth of her, memorizing the way she feels against you.

For the past six months, it’s always been like this—hooking up, fucking, leaving before it could turn into anything else. Before either of you could say something real.

But now she’s still here, looking at you like she sees something she hasn’t let herself before. Like maybe she doesn’t want to leave either.

And for the first time, you don’t want to let her.

The air outside is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingers on your body. The trunk of the SUV is open, airing out the lingering humidity from what just happened inside. You both sit on the edge of it, the makeshift bed in the back still rumpled behind you. Yujin has her legs folded beneath her, knees drawn close, wrapped in your zip-up hoodie—the one you’d left in the car weeks ago, the one she threw on without asking after cleaning up.

Your drink sits between you, condensation dripping down the sides, untouched. A crumpled napkin rests beside it, damp from where she’d pressed it against her palm earlier, like she needed something to do with her hands.

Yujin stirs her drink absentmindedly, straw scraping against the plastic lid, over and over, rhythmic, almost like she’s trying to drown out the weight between you.

This is part of the routine. Sometimes it’s ice cream, sometimes it’s boba, but there’s always a buffer spot—a place to sit, to let the heat cool off, to pretend the ending isn’t creeping up on you. But tonight, it feels different. The usual buffer doesn’t seem to be working. The silence isn’t settling—it’s stretching, pressing between you.

She hasn’t said much since you parked outside your favorite boba place. Neither have you. The neon glow of the shop sign flickers against the pavement, catching the light off the curve of your drink. The hum of passing cars, the occasional murmur of voices from inside, the faint bass from a stereo down the street—it all fills the space between you, but none of it breaks the weight of the silence.

The sun is setting now, washing the street in soft gold, the sky burning orange and violet. You both just sit there, watching cars fly by, the city moving around you like it always does, like it always has. A streetlight buzzes to life beside you, casting a dim glow over her skin. Somewhere in the sky, a lone star flickers through the haze, barely visible, like something trying to push through.

You glance at her, expecting something—some offhanded, teasing remark to ease the tension, a snide little smirk, maybe even a cocky joke about how you always get attached. Something easy.

But then she stops stirring.

She exhales, slow, deliberate, like she already knew she was going to say this before she even got in the car today. Her fingers tighten around her cup, just slightly. Like she already knows the answer but still needs to hear it. She looks at you, and then—

"Do you want to get back together?"

Your stomach pulls tight.

You blink, caught off guard, the words settling heavy between you. She’s never asked before. Never even come close. And yet, it doesn’t feel like a question she just thought of. It feels like something that’s been sitting in her chest, waiting for the right moment to spill out. It’s the way she says it—serious, expectant, none of the usual bravado or games, none of the usual ways she brushes past real things before they can land.

You sit with it, six months pressed into your chest, thick as breath. Picking her up. Folding down the SUV seats. Fucking her like it meant nothing. Pretending it meant nothing. But you always ended up here—parked outside some late-night spot, coming down from it all, sitting next to each other like nothing had changed. Except it has. You can feel it.

She watches you, unreadable, but you take in the details—the way her hair is still tied up, loose strands slipping free near her temples, sticking slightly to her skin. The glow of the streetlights catches on her glasses, masking her eyes for half a second before they flicker, searching yours. Her lips, the ones she had redone after you cleaned up, press together like she’s holding back more words.

You think about how you’re supposed to answer.

You always waited. Let her text first. Let her reach out first.

But she’s looking at you now, waiting, expecting.

And this time?

You don’t wait.

You know the answer.

AN: Anotha one. Hope you guys enjoy. I got a fun one comin soon, just finishing it up ;) I always appreciate kind words n feedback.

#malereader #yujin smut #malereader x yujin #Ive smut #kpop smut #kpop fic #cloudtsmut

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pha55ed · 6 months ago

Text

PR Nightmare Two || F1/F2

type :: crack

tw/cw :: pee (carlos), sexual jokes (charles, oscar), watersports (lando), small smut (lando), mpreg (lando, oscar), bear fucking (ollie), necrophilia (ollie),

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul

summary :: driver!reader is the driver's teammate which is awesome! except the fact that you're a fucking pr disater who can't shut your mouth. platonic or romantic !

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

After moving to Williams, Carlos was terrified that you and him wouldn't click. But was quickly proven wrong as you were extremely open despite just meeting him. He knew everything about you... Too much...

Yet again, you were trapped in an interview that was seemingly never-ending. This interview was live on Sky Sports, meaning you both had to be extra careful and stay on for much longer than usual. Although Carlos was tired, you weren't. Yapping would have been your full time job if it wasn't for your skills in Formula.

"What is a secret you haven't told each other?" The interviewer asks, expecting something along the lines of 'I ate your ice-cream once' or 'I hate when you wear crocs'. Carlos was going to reply with something similar to that but you quickly jumped in.

"I wanna pee in the ice bath so bad" You said with a desperate tone, as if you were grieving the pain of not being able to bathe in your own piss. Carlos looked at you in shock.

"What?!" He asked, his shock turning to laughter to help cope. "But you never did right...?"

"Of course not holy shit." You say, disgusted he would think so lowly of you. "But I wanna see how my pee would react the muscle-relaxants and ice and shit. Like what if I become the Hulk but yellow-"

Quickly the camera were cut and the live stream ended before you could say more. You ruined an entire live stream with over 20,000 live viewers. From that moment, Carlos knew you two would be perfect together on this team.

Charles Leclerc | 16

Doing small interviews didn't bother Charles that much. He didn't mind talking and his fanbase was lovely. But once you became his new teammate at Ferrari, interviews were now 10 times more fun.

"Did you guys have any embarrassing childhood crushes?" The interviewer asked, finally giving you both non-racing related questions.

"Oh yes!" Charles said, excited to talk about himself. "Definitely Kristen Stewart haha! Not very embarrassing, but I did watch Twilight just for her."

"That's so valid" You said relaxed, "I think mine was probably 9."

Both Charles and the interviewer looked extremely confused. "From what show...?" The interviewer asked, assuming it was something like the Umbrella Academy or Stranger Things.

Now you were confused as well, "Huh? There's no show." You repeated yourself. "9, as in the number... Like the circle and line."

"Oh..." The interviewer said, trying their best to find a way to segway this into the next question but they were cut off by Charles.

"No way," Charles said, "Maybe! MAYBE I could understand the number 8 but 9???" Now the interviewer was completely lost. "At least 8 has curves and a body, what does 9 have?"

"I know he's packin" You said with a grin "That little curved tail, curved UPWARDS? And the-"

Cameras off. Interviewers cutting you off. And Charles was deeply interested... This clip launches your duo name: Eight Eat Nine

Lando Norris | 04

"How are you helping (Y/N) adjust to being a new Papaya!" The interviewer asked innocently. Little did she know how much Lando has been enduring with you. Thankfully he recored it all and there would be a video posted to Youtube soon.

"Awful." Lando says before chuckling, almost more like a nervous break down chuckle. "Every day is hell with em' here."

"What???" The interviewer asked, thinking she got first-hand access to the newest gossip on the grid. "Did something happen?"

"YEAH." Lando said, simply nodding, not having the guts to say what you did. Thankfully, but not very thankfully to Lando, you walked into the interview after overhearing it.

"Yeah, what DID I do?" You ask, almost sounding threatening. "Don't make me show you again."

After weeks passed and rumors were rampant online. Rumors about you blackmailing him, overthrowing his family's business, kicking him out of Mclaren, and so so many more extreme rumors that you both were laughing at. Lando finally edited and posted his newest Youtube video: "Reading Fanfiction with (Y/N)!?"

Despite the thumbnail seeming like you two would be reading fan-fiction shipping you both together, instead, you found the most vile, borderline dark content, gay fics of Lando with a variety of drivers.

Thus, explaining the odd dynamic between you two. In reality, you both were perfectly fine and closer than ever. But you just wanted to play up the drama in order to rack up some views and tweets. It was awful for the PR team, but to you guys: it was funny.

Oscar Piastri | 81

oscarpiastri: got a tan and a new helmet: ready to destroy the next half of the 25' season! @.mclaren

→ yourusername: finish taking that shirt off. now.

→ yourusername: take off your pants too while your at it.

⎯→ user 01: OH MY GOD (Y/N)?????? UNDER A MCLAREN TAGGED POST TOO????

→ user 02: they're never ever going to beat the dating accusations

⎯→ yourusername: we're about to be dating once he comes home

→ user 03: thought i was a freak but (y/n)... u can have him

→ yourusername: my lovely wonder-bread, bend over for me.

⎯→ user 04: i thought this was a joke about his name sounding like pastry but she's just calling him white, isnt she

⎯→ user 05: that's her precious white chocolate delight

→ yourusername: gonna get ur fine ass pregnant

→ yourusername: raw. next question.

⎯→ user 06: i can't tell if she's tiktok typa horny or tumblr typa horny

⎯→ user 07: definitely tumblr...

No image. I'm not searching this shit up again.

Max Verstappen | 01

Tiktok is something Max tries to stay away from. Not that he hates the app, he'd just rather do something else with his time. But you, the newest and youngest driver on the grid, loved Tiktok. You were basically the marketing for Redbull despite your out of pocket videos at times.

And that included you coming up with the idea to have Max react to fans posts. An innocent idea that Max didn't mind filming content for, after all, he loved his fans. But you quickly were going to make him doubt that.

You were smart, showing him innocent tiktoks first. Fan art, cool edits, and even analysis on his best drives. As the video was coming to an end, you brought up the trend where drivers were compared to a food and a quote.

Often times Max was compared to a key lime pie, bell pepper, or an energy drink. But you then showed him THE strawberry slideshow. You knew what the ending was.

"Oh strawberry!" Max said, excited to finally get a sweet themed item. But as he swiped and saw the strawberries then coated with white chocolate, obviously implying something, he jumped back and gasped. "OH!!! Well, I didn't... I didn't expect that."

While you were dying, already posting it - he was traumatized.

Oliver Bearman | 87

Interviews were fun between you both, fans always loved it. Mainly because both of you can't keep your mouth shut. The only way to make your interviews even worse is to get Franco to join in with you guys.

But unlike Ollie's sassy comments, you asked stupid questions. Butt fuck stupid questions. Which Ollie always took serious. Think of Tom Holland answering the question about him "faking" being British or Theo Von's podcast vibes. It was the dumb American x understanding Brit duo.

So when you both were forced to create a "podcast" for Prema, aka a race preview, you both took full advantage of this time. You were supposed to be just folding laundry, but almost nothing got folded. It was just yapping and yapping.

"I got a question," You say, attempting to fold a shirt but doing awful at it.

"Hmm?" Ollie replied, picking up the shirt you just folded and undoing it. Only to fold it properly himself.

"Why is your name Bearman?" You ask. "Cause like, I know British people got like, My Little Pony names. Like how people named Smith's were blacksmiths and stuff."

"Oh well," Ollie paused to think, "I dunno actually. It's from my great grandpa so."

"Did he fuck a bear or something?" You ask, nonchalantly while Ollie instantly is confused. "Cause lowkey, back in the day I bet Bearman was a slur."

"No..." Ollie hesitated, "I highly doubt my grandpa fucked a bear. I think we probably just hunted bears-"

"So you're a family of necrophiles?" You shake your head, "That's just wrong man."

"I never said that-"

Paul Aron | 17

paularon_: Went for a run, in Italy, with a film camera🇮🇹🎥

→ yourusername: is it say yes to the dress or say yes to the SLUT???

→ yourusername: is this your soft launch for your only fans?

⎯→ user 01: i'd so buy it tbh

→ yourusername: pepemartiofficial kimi.antonelli olliebearman jakcrawford_ zane.maloney isackhadjar dennis_hauger

⎯→ paularon_: why are you @ ing the whole grid

⎯→ yourusername: to slut shame you

→ pepemartiofficial: did you lose your shirt over the summer?

→ olliebearman: go eat a burger (save somes baddies for the rest of us)

→ jakcrawford_: we get it, ur buff with a huge dick

⎯→ user 02:: how do u know that…

⎯→ yourusername: I can vouch for

→ isackhadjar: put a bra on slut

⎯→ yourusername: I don’t even think mines will fit him

#f1 #f2 #formula 1 #formula 2 #f1 x reader #f2 x reader #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri #max verstappen x reader #ollie bearman x reader #oliver bearman x reader #paul aron x reader #xmas celly!#formula 1 smau #formula 2 smau

1K notes · View notes

moonlightcycle571 · 4 months ago

Text

The Justice League mingling before their meeting

Captain Marvel, crashing through: CYBORG QUICK, I NEED YOU TO FIX IT

Cyborg: what?

Captain Marvel: SHES DOWN

Cyborg, palling: You don’t mean … *checkc* OH FUCK NO

JL, visibly concerned: What’s going on

Captain Marvel: HURRY DO SOMETHING

Cyborg, already has twelve laptops going through codes furiously: IM TRYING

Plastic man, bursting through the room: EMERGENCY, SHE HAS BEEN HIT

Cyborg and Captain Marvel: WE KNOW

Plastic man, gripping Batman: DO SOMETHING

Captain Marvel, slapping Plasticman: GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF SOLDIER

Green Arrow: WHATS GOING ON?

Captain Marvel: AO3 IS DOWN

JL: … what?

Green Lantern (Hal & Jessica): NOOOOOOOOOOO

Wonder Woman : … the fan fiction website?

Superman: that’s it?

Cyborg, dramatic gasp: how DARE-

Captain Marvel, dramatically holding him back: No my friend, they simply don’t understand

Green lantern (Hal): How am I supposed to get through monitor duty without my dose of SI field trip fics?

Green lantern (Jessica): How am I supposed to fly through space without my Percabeth podfics???

Green lantern (Hal): Aren’t John and Kyle currently in deep space right now?

A moment of silence for thé two lanterns in space

Flash: is this what’s got you in a fuss? Damn I thought someone died

Cyborg: SIX HOURS

Four Heroes proceed to cry in unison

Bonus:

After a gruelling 6 hour meeting, the heroes found themselves with their beloved writings again

Cyborg: SHES BACK BABY

Green lantern (Jessica): NO ONE TALK TO ME FOR SIX WEEKS I NEED TO CATCH UP ON MY FIC TIME

Captain Marvel: I CAN FINALLY POST MY NEXT CHAPTER

Green lantern (Hal): You’re an author? Let me see your works

The three look at Caps account: …

Green lantern (Hal): THATS YOU???

Cyborg: howwwwwww

Green lantern (Jessica): Oh shit, I’m a big fan of your work

Bonus 2:

Batman, in the BatCave: it seems this ao3 site has a great deal of influence. I might need to investigate this.

Batman: Captain Marvels work may also give me clues as to who he is

Ten hours later

Batman, knee deep in Gray ghost, Batfam and Danny Phantom fics: … I may have made a mistake

Bonus 3:

Lex Luthor: hey Mercy. Mercy. Hey.

Mercy: WHAT

Lex: wouldn’t it be funny if after ao3 starts working again, I mess with it some more. Making it go down so soon after the 6 hours are up

Mercy: that’s sounds cruel

Mercy: I love it

Bonus 4:

Lex Luthor talking to some villains

Lex: it seems that I was right, planting a bug within the reading platform brought forth a level of villainy i hadn’t truly imagined

Sivanna “got blamed and beat up for it”: THAT WAS YOU!

Cheetah “her furry and wlw safe space” : WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

Killer Croc “same reasons above”: Oh I’m going to beat your ass

Harley Quinn, pulling out her bat and calling all the Gotham Rogues (who have been up in arms about it): IM WAY ON YA! YOURE DEAD

Lex Luthor, “just wanted to stop seeing himself get shipped with Superman”: I sense that I may have made a mistake

#in honour of the fallen (ao3)#and mix it with my boy #Billy Batson #because I enjoy giving him more reasons to crash out #what’s one more trauma on the list #there’s so many characters here that I’m not going to tag them all #mostly because I’m lazy #I just know the Lanterns are ao3 users #what tags you read define which ring you get #I also think most villains love ao3 #especially the Gotham rogues #something about them gives me that vibe #yes this incident did get most of the JL really into ao3 #I also know the younger heroes like the titans and YJ have been up in arms about it

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himasgod · 23 days ago

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hello!! This is my first time requesting something so sorry if it’s dumb or something. I was wondering if you could do a Vil Schoenheit x reader but reader does not give a crap about their appearance like always wearing comfy clothes, slouching all the time, eating junk, all that stuff but the thing is reader is incredibly beautiful and is just not using their beauty to their full potential.

VIL X READER

Where you don't give a crap about your appearance

Where even though you don't give a shit about your appearance you are still stunning, even being offensive to Vil's eyes

Vil didn't merely live beauty — he was beauty.

So when you walked into his life — wearing crocs. With socks. Mismatched socks.

He almost passed out.

Vil had seen beauty in every curated form imaginable — painted lips, powdered faces, posture held like a sword at one’s back.

But you?

You were ruining him.

You shuffled through NRC’s campus in pajama pants — again — a loose hoodie swallowing your form, hair in a tangled mess, posture more gremlin than graceful.

You were eating a bag of spicy cheese puffs at seven in the morning, orange dust clinging to your fingertips.

And the worst part? You looked like you’d walked straight off the cover of Maquillaville Vogue.

You weren’t in Pomefiore, thank the Sevens, but you might as well have been a walking scandal within its walls.

Word of you spread quickly — not because of some tragic fashion faux pas, but because somehow, despite your absolute refusal to try, you were beautiful.

Not “cute for someone who slouched” beautiful. Not “hidden potential” beautiful.

No, it was infuriating beauty. Hair that caught the sun just right, lips with a natural shape that looked like gloss was always applied, eyes that sparkled — all wasted beneath a hoodie three sizes too big and posture that screamed, I just rolled out of bed and I’m already over this day.

And worst of all?

You didn’t care.

Vil first confronted you in the library.

You were sprawled on a velvet armchair like a cat, scrolling through your tablet with one leg thrown over the armrest, wearing pajama bottoms with cartoon ducks on them.

A plastic bag of gummy worms sat on your chest, half-eaten.

“You look like you lost a bet,” Vil said, arms folded.

You looked up and blinked at him.

“Oh, hey Vil.” You blinked again. “Wait. Is this about the ducks?”

He sighed so hard you felt a breeze.

“You are a visual offense to my retinas.”

You popped a gummy worm into your mouth.

“Mmm. They’re sour apple.”

“I’m not talking about your damn snacks. I’m talking about you. Do you not own a mirror?”

“I do. It’s got toothpaste splatter on it though, so I kinda just use it to check for eye crust.”

Vil made a sound like he was being personally attacked by fate.

Despite everything, Vil couldn’t stay away.

He told himself it was curiosity at first. A case study. A tragic but fascinating example of wasted natural gift.

But he kept noticing things. How you hummed while walking, off-tune but happy. The lazy sparkle in your eye when you teased him.

And then came the breaking point.

You showed up to lunch in flannel pant, a hood over your head.

You were wearing slippers.

Vil stood. “Get up.”

You blinked, mid-bite of your sandwich. “What?”

“You’re coming with me. I won’t allow this to continue.”

“...Am I getting expelled from the cafeteria?”

“You’re getting a makeover.”

The walk to Pomefiore was full of protest.

“But I like my pants—”

“They are a crime against fabric.”

“And this hoodie is cozy!”

“That’s not even your hoodie. It has Kalim's name on it.”

“I like the smell. Jamil uses nice detergent.”

Vil pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You are an atrocity with model-grade bone structure.”

The process was long. Painfully so.

Vil made you sit up straight. He taught you how to walk with poise. He made you do your skincarr.

You groaned and whined, called him “Captain Cruelty,” and threatened to fake an allergic reaction to toner.

He retaliated by confiscating your hot chips.

But slowly smoething shifted. Not just in your posture — but between the two of you.

He started brushing your hair more gently. You started letting him. He noticed how your eyes softened when he leaned close to adjust your collar.

You noticed how he lingered when your fingers accidentally brushed.

He still scolded you. You still teased him. But there was something warmer.

And then came the real test.

The night of NRC’s "seasonal ball".

Vil had prepared a look for you — nothing too flashy, just something sleek and polished.

He waited by the dorm gates, arms crossed, expression sour.

And you… showed up in your usual hoodie.

Jeans.

The same damn. fucking. slippers.

But your hair was brushed. Your lips had a hint of gloss.

Your eyes found his.

“Thought about wearing the dress you gave me,” you said, holding the garment bag he gave you.

“But then I realized... I kinda like that you like me either way.”

Vil stared at you — the mess, the miracle. You didn’t need polish. You didn’t need pearls.

You were beautiful in a way that defied rules.

And despite everything he’d believed... he was okay with that.

“I never wanted to change you,” he murmured.

“I just didn’t know how to handle someone who could outshine the stars while wearing duck-print pants.”

You smiled.

“You think I outshine the stars?”

“I think you ruin me,” he whispered.

“But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #twst x reader #twisted x reader #twisted x you #vil x yuu #vil x you #vil schoenheit #vil #vil shoenheit x reader #vil twst #twisted x yuu #twst scenarios #twst x you #twisted wonderland x reader

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makis-eyebrows · 1 month ago

Text

Request: 💕

Paddock Nap Queen

The saying "The apple doesn't fall from the tree" has never been so clear every time Lando had his daughter at the paddock.

If there was one thing everyone in the Formula 1 paddock knew about Y/n Norris, it was this:

She had two modes:

A full-on, sugar-fueled tornado of giggles and squeaky Crocs.

Fast asleep, dead to the world, in the strangest places imaginable.

It was an uncanny talent passed down from her father — Lando Norris — who had once been caught napping in a tire blanket during a rain delay. The drivers never let him live it down. Now, his daughter had taken the title of "Grid’s Best Sleeper" and turned it into an Olympic sport.

It was a typical race weekend — sunny skies, fans screaming, engines revving — and Y/n was zipping around the McLaren hospitality like she owned the place.

“Y/n, slow down before you crash into someone’s knee!” Lando called, only mildly concerned as he watched her zoom past with a cookie in one hand and a mini helmet in the other.

“Can’t catch me, Daddy!” she yelled gleefully before darting behind the coffee station.

Lando chuckled, sipping his drink. “She gets it from my mum. Swear.”

Oscar Piastri, walking by, raised an eyebrow. “Mate, she gets it from you. That kid has your energy — and your lack of an off-switch.”

“Please,” Lando snorted, “I have an off-switch.”

“Yeah. And it kicks in when you sit still for more than three minutes.”

They both laughed.

Twenty minutes later, chaos ensued.

Y/n had somehow made her way to the Mercedes motorhome, where George Russell found her sitting cross-legged in a chair, asking his engineer questions about the buttons on the steering wheel.

“She was very curious,” George said to Lando later, “and alarmingly knowledgeable about DRS.”

Then, when Carlos Sainz tried to lift her off the ground to return her to McLaren, she announced she was “on a scientific mission” and couldn’t leave.

Eventually, Charles Leclerc found her trying to get Leo, his dachshund, to talk to her like a human.

And then… silence.

Which, for Y/n, was unusual.

Too quiet.

“Where is she?” Lando asked suddenly, looking up from his tablet.

Oscar looked around. “She was literally here five seconds ago.”

A paddock-wide Y/n Hunt™ began — which, by now, was just part of race weekend tradition.

Max Verstappen checked under tables. Alex Albon opened a cupboard in the Williams hospitality. Jack Doohan searched behind one of the team trucks. Even Sebastian Vettel, visiting that weekend, chuckled and joined the search.

Until finally, Isack Hadjar found her.

In the Red Bull simulator room.

Asleep.

On the fake car.

Her small body was curled up neatly in the seat of the sim, one hand still loosely gripping the steering wheel like a tiny future world champion. Her mouth was slightly open, drool starting to threaten the upholstery. Her mini McLaren cap had slipped over her eyes.

Isack took a photo.

Then another.

Then texted Lando: Isack 🥖: “Found her. She’s napping in Max’s sim. 😂” Lando 🧡: “Classic. Be there in 2.”

When Lando arrived, he stepped into the room and paused.

His little girl — his firecracker, his chaos monster — completely knocked out in the Red Bull simulator like it was her crib.

He bent down, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “You wore yourself out, didn’t you, baby?”

She stirred, mumbled something about cookies and “being the fastest,” then went right back to sleep.

Oscar peeked over his shoulder and whispered, “She’s going to run the grid one day.”

Lando smiled, eyes soft. “She already does.”

They didn’t wake her — no one dared.

Instead, Max, despite his initial horror, let her nap undisturbed.

“For the record,” Max told Lando, “this is the only time I’ll allow a McLaren person in my sim.”

“Appreciate it, mate,” Lando chuckled. “She’ll repay you with crumbs and glitter stickers, probably.”

Later that day, the sim was dubbed “Y/n’s Throne” by the grid group chat.

George posted a photo of her sleeping with the caption: “Queen of Chaos, Princess of Power Naps 👑”

Lando simply added a sticker on the photo: #LikeFatherLikeDaughter

And from that day on, a small plaque was taped inside the Red Bull simulator:

“In honour of Y/n Norris, age 5 — fastest giggle in the paddock, deepest sleeper in the world.”

Done!!

I had to add some rookie appreciation in here somehow and still make it seem normal. Onto my last request.

That's Gang Gang out!!!!

#f1 dads #f1 drivers as fathers #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #daughter!reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula one #f1 fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris x daughter!reader

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hanafubukki · 7 months ago

Text

You had never seen Sebek Zigvolt…so jittery before.

If Lilia chose right now to pop up, you were sure Sebek would jump high enough to hit the ceiling.

It was amusing…but maybe you should try and calm his down.

“Something you want to tell me? Sebek?”

He jolted as if you…shocked him. You couldn’t help the inner chuckle at the little joke.

You raised an eyebrow to empathize your question.

“Do you require any assistance?”

“Hm?”

You watch as he turned red and mumbled to himself.

“My mother and sister would ask for certain foods and potions from us when I’m back home. I…would extend that assistance if you need it.”

Ah. Wait, aw, that’s sweet. A fae after my own heart.

"Awww who's a sweet croc fae?"

"You-"

You cupped Sebek’s cheek, quieting him, “Thank you but I’m alright for now. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

That seemed to appease him. Good.

But that does bring to question…

“How did you know?”

You watch as Sebek turns an interesting shade of red.

You lean in to hear his too quiet reply, “…I can smell it.”

This time you can’t keep the laughter in as Sebek marches ahead of you, turning even more red.

As embarrassed as he was, he never strayed too far ahead of you.

Sebek Zigvolt is a sweetheart with a heart of gold.

#sweet sebek thought pervade my thoughts #tw menstruation #tw menstrual cycle #implied at least #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt x you #twst x you

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woodle-isbae · 6 months ago

Note

I need me one order of katsuki getting freaky with reader after a nice romantic date with extra smut on the side please 😌

The Answer

K.Bakugo x fem!reader

Warnings: takes place in the 3rd Year, Reader is just as snappy as Bakugou, mating press, oral( f receiving) , slight sub! Bakugo, virgin! Bakugo, swearing(obviously), black implied reader.

I mightve missed some stuff..idk

A/N: I think posting this will cure my writers block wtf.

"And where do you think your going dressed like that?"

You turned tour head to be met with your pink friend, her eye brow raised and head cocked to the side while her arms crossed, acting as if she were your mother. She basically fit the criteria, wearing her crocs and some shorts with a gown over.

"I'm going on a a date, I told you this already."

As the words left your mouth she let out a soft gasp, shuffling over to interrogate you about who what and where, preparing for her bombarding.

"Who is this lucky fella huh? Wait no let me guess, Shoto! No, he doesn't date...Iida!"

You internally scolded yourself for letting her see you like this, knowing that she would name every guy under the sun...but Him.

"Let me save you the time, it's Katsuki."

You gave her a soft smile, placing your hand on her shoulder as you spoke. But Mina only offered you a shocked face, as if she saw a ghost- her face went pale at the mention of the blonds name.

"What.?"

"Haha, yeah really unlikely that Katsuki would have a girlfriend- let alone me!"

You chuckled dryly, glancing to the clock on the wall and noticing that you would be late if you stayed any longer. You muttered a soft excuse me to Mina and left the Dorms, going to the UA gates, a soft scowl on your puffy haired boyfriends face.

"Your gonna make us late dumbass."

Not letting you even speak up, he placed a bouquet of (Fav/flowers) in your hands, his blushing highlighted by the moonlight. He glanced down to you and begun scowling at you.

"You got a fucking starin' problem or something!?"

"Jeez, can't a girl just enjoy looking at her boyfriend."

"I didn't say that! Your fucking Gawking at me!"

"Yeah! You look well dressed tonight...for once.."

"The fuck was that!?"

Your little squabble went on until you two reached a cute restaurant, bakugou trying to be a romantic fuck and open the door for you with a grumble, holding back on his words when you giggle and muttered a soft 'thank you'

He lead you to a small booth in the far corner of the little Cafe, setting down your gifts next to you as you sat across from him, looking through the menu for a moment until your sweet boyfriend snapped his fingers trying to call for a waiter.

"Katsuki! That's so rude."

"Tch, the fuck I look like caring huh?"

You begun squabbling again until someone(s) walked up to your table. You both looked up to order, abruptly stopping to stare at Katsuki's two friends in the Cafe uniform, grinning from eat to ear while wiggling their brows at you.

"What would you like t-"

"We want a different waiter..why the fuck are you two here, together."

"Part time, need more cash for our stuff."

Denki spoke out, a goofy grin on his face as his eyes craned over to you then back to Katsuki, his face dropping in an instant.

"Why are you..with him..?"

He muttered out, the whole table going silent- felt like the whole place went silent, you were absolutely dumbfounded. Do people not think your a good match?

"Argh! I didn't mean it like that! I just never expected Ka-Bakugo to be with you! Your exactly the same and that thing with opposites-"

He stammered out, waving his hands infront of him, trying to defend himself before any of you could speak. Ultimately Sero had hit him upside the head and dragged him away.

"...I ordered us some Curry."

You craned your head back to the man infront of you, his face in a deep blush- probably because he was caught on a date.

"The fuck are you blushing for, you don't want anyone to find out about us huh?"

Your words had fixed him right up, his face returning back into a scrunched up scowl.

"Ffffff-FUCK NO, I'd show you off! Stop being so difficult!"

He growled out, even if he's words sounded so rude to the person over- you knew he actually meant it, he wasn't able to express himself and any form of compliment was actually sincere.

"I know Tsuki, don't get so grumpy before the date even starts."

Just as he was about to scream more, Sero and Denki came back with your food in hand, placing them down along with your drinks. Sero was being sneaky and whispered something into Katsuki's ear, slipping something into his hand and shuffling away giggling with Denki.

"Weirdos."

You mumbled out, digging into your food and ignoring the blush on Katsuki's face, his eyes boring holes into your head. You glanced up at him and looked away, pretending to eat his food so you wouldn't question him.

The date went surprisingly well, besides the fact Denki and sero kept coming back to 'check' on you guys(whisper some stuff into Bakugou's ear), it was the best you've ever been on.

"What are they muttering into y'ear?"

"N-nothing! Focus on the date, ignore those damn extras."

He spoke out through a full mouth, obviously very out of character for him since he would give you a full lecture about talking with a full mouth, that turns into a lecture about table manners.

"Hm, whatever you say."

You smirked up at him, using your spoon to point at him teasingly before fucking up your plate.

You had finished up and Bakugou snached the bill away trying to be a gentleman. You weren't gonna pay anyway.

"Where are we going next?"

"Just follow me."

You rolled your eyes and walked next to him, glancing over to his full hands with the gifts he got you- saying that he's gonna hold them while you look pretty. It honestly made you giggle how he found a way to be sweet while being a total jackass.

The two of you shorty arrived at an empty hillside at a park, with some blankets, candles, chocolates and even more stuffed toys sat around. You squeeled and jumped up on him the moment he set down the gifts, showering him in glossy kisses and soft 'thank you!' And 'I love it!!'

"Well, I'm glad you like it.."

His words came out soft and hushed, a soft blush spread across his face while he released a breath of relief. He had lead you to the blanket and sat across from you, dipping some fruit in the chocolate and trying to feed you.

"Look at you! Trying to be all romantic!!"

"Shut up and eat."

He pouted at your teasing, not screaming or trying to fight, just accepting your weird teasing that made him blush. While you talked his ear off about different things and stuff you'd wanna do together, he stared at you- a soft gaze, drinking up every little detail on your face with the moonlight washing over you.

"Your really pretty.."

"Aw! Tha-"

"I'm not done. Your really pretty, I'm kinda jealous, like your so fucking perfect- I'm shocked you even wanna be with me."

He paused, taking in a deep breath and looking you in the eyes, placing his large warm hand over yours.

"It makes me super happy or whatever that I get to be your boyfriend, fuck- it makes me super happy that I can walk around and scream to the world that (Y/N)(L/N) is my lover- my girlfriend!"

You only sat staring at him, a slight pout forming on your face as the tears came right up, you jumped onto him with a big hug.

"I love you too Katsuki, I'll never stop loving you! Imagine how excited I feel getting to say that I'm dating the Pro Hero in training, Katsuki Bakugou!"

You both had layed there, the cool night air brushing over you while you soaked in the presence of eachother, the soft breaths catching your ears.

"What did Hanta slip into your pocket anyways?"

Your words sat in his head for a few seconds before he shot up, clearing his throat and muttering something about your curfew, trying to beat around the bush.

"C'mon Katsuki! You can tell me.!"

"Not in public.."

He walked fast paced, for someone who was carrying atleast 20kgs worth of gifts in that little blanket, he was moving really fast. You huffed out and followed him until you guys made it back to UA, opening the door so he could walking in and go to his room.

Unlucky for him, you still followed him- mainly because he would need help with the door, but also because your still curious.

"It's nothing, important- now shoo."

"I'll shut the door, and you can whisper it.!"

You did just that, locking the door and shuffling over to sit next to him on his bed, bringing your eat closer to him.

"For fucks sake, it's not anything we'll use now."

Use? It's obviously something with a one time use value.

"Breathmint? I mean your breath is amazing, why would he giv-"

"It's a condom dipshit."

What!

"Why the fuck we're you so embarrassed to say that! Obviously we could've used it now."

"Well I don't know how!"

He had a scowl on his face, a really stark contrast to the same soft loving face that gushed out all his feelings to you.

"We get a SexEd class every year, what do you mean you don't know how??"

"I know how! Fucking hell, I just- never did it before.."

"Can you repeat, i didn't he-"

"I'm a virgin."

You stared at him, he looked away with a red face- embarrassed that someone like him, an ego so big, was a virgin. You weren't really surprised, he shouts so much you would've guessed he's pent up.

"That why your always angry?"

"OHMYFUCKINGGODSHUTUP!"

He threw a pillow at you, growing embarrassed at how chill you were being since he just told one of his biggest secrets.

"Okay sorry! But...do you wanna change that?"

He looked over at you, dumbfounded at your choice of words.

"You hang out with dunceface too much."

"Ouch?"

You held your heart dramatically, earning a groan from your boyfriend. As you were about to complain he cut you off, pulling you in for a deep kiss.

His rough hand on your cheek, his tongue poking at your lips begging for entrance- which you allowed happily. Your own hands finding their way to his face, the little bickering you had a moment ago completely forgotten, drowning in your lust for eachother.

"Yes, you can change that."

He said softly against your lips, lifting you off the bed and onto his lap, trying to pull in as close as possible. A hushed whine leaving his lips when your pressed yourself on his tent, pulling back to look at him with a sly smirk.

"Shut up."

Once again, as you were about to speak he cut you off with a kiss, not interested to hear the dumb joke you wanted to say. You had decided to unbutton his shirt, slowly exposing his chest to the night air, causing him him to softly hiss.

"I should've closed my window- fuck."

He mumbled on your lips, trying to get your clothes off aswell, slightly fumbling out of nervousness. You giggled at his shyness, helping him get you out of your clothes.

"Relax, we're taking this slow..for you."

He blushed, insulted that you thought he needed to take things slow, he was gonna show you otherwise.

"Fuck that, I can take whatever you throw at me."

His rough voice booming through your ears, flipping you onto your back and trailing his hands down your sides, lips tracing down your neck to your collarbone.

"Don't be loud."

He said between your thighs, looking you dead in the eye as he slowly pulled your panties to the side, breathing onto your exposed cunt. Soft kisses placed near your slit.

"Stop being a tease Kats."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want."

The last words that left his lips before he placed them softly on your clit, sucking softly on the swollen bud. A soft gasp slipping past your own, fingers sliding through his messy hair.

"Just like that, yeahh.."

You said breathlessly, lifting your hips to hump against his tongue. He ran it from your slit all the way to your clit, groaning from the sweet taste of your juices, his grip on your thighs near bruising.

"Fuck, you taste so good."

You knew he was addicted now, not stopping to come back up for air or when you shook under him, talking about 'wait..I don't wanna cum so fast..'. He could care less, drunken from the taste of your juices alone.

"Tsuki- I'm gonna cum! Fuck.!"

You shook underneath his hold, hips spasming from the non stop stimulation of his tongue from your clenching heat to the swell of your clit. He made sure to lick you clean before pulling back, finally taking in a full breath of air.

"If I knew you tasted this good, I would've done this so fucking long ago."

He was loving every second of it, the pupil in his red eyes so blown out they nearly washed away the color, lips pink and swollen. He hopped off the bed, shuffling to lock the door and throw his clothes off, making his way back to you with the condom pack placed between his teeth.

"You seem excited."

You chuckled, glancing between his legs that held the one thing you wanted more- and up to his flushed face, a small smile plastered on. His hands sliding the condom onto his fat cock, aligning himself to your cunt.

Pushing inside you with one swift thrust, hissing from the new found feeling of your warmth, Katsuki placed his arms around your waist and held your tightly against him. You'd taken a moment to catch your breath, getting used to the stretch his cock gave you.

"Tsuki...you can move.."

You whispered into his ear, keeping your arms locked around the back of his neck, fingers tracing softly on his nape. He had hummed at your words, thrusting into you slowly to get used to the feeling of being deep inside you.

"I could get addicted to this...fuck.."

Katsuki propped himself up on his left elbow, looking down between your bodies to see the way you connect at each thrust, his right hand pushing your leg up to your chest do he could get even deeper.

The new found position had you both in utter bliss, the blondes thrusts becoming more and more erratic and rough- while the sounds leaving your mouth had raised in volume at each *plap* of your hips.

"Fuuckk! Yes- right there, Katsuki!"

You clawed at his back, trying to surface yourself on anything to avoid being fucked dumb too late. He hissed out, drunken off the soft pulsing around his cock and the way his name sat comfortably in your mouth.

"I won't last long if you keep scratchin' up on me."

He growled into your ear, slowing his thrusts but making them deeper, trying get you to reach your orgasm before him. He moved his hand between you two to rub on your clit, moaning at the way you constricted around him.

You could feel your second orgasm of the night approach, his other hand leaving your hip and groping at your tit, rubbing faster against your clit. He bit down on your shoulder to conceal the pathetic whimpers and moans that slipped out his lips.

"Ah! Tsuki-im gonna cum.!"

"Go 'head baby- fuuuck, it's all yours."

He grunted into your neck, rolling his hips oh so pleasantly against yours. His pleads and whimpers clouded your mind, the way his cock rubbed against the spongy spot deep inside you. You could feel the knot inside you breaking- along with something else inside, you were too fucked out to protest and beg him to sloe down, head falling back against the pillow as your jaw hung slack.

"Oh- fuckfuckfuckkk, I'm- Shiiittt!"

You shook underneath him, your orgasm crashing down on you like a brick, juices spraying down your thighs and against his chiseled hip. This caused a reaction out of him, his thrusts turning sloppy before he locked in placed, cusses and pleads flying out of his mouth.

"Haa- you feel so fucking good..oh pleasepleaseplease- ha!"

You stayed there for a moment, catching your breaths and making your way back into your mushed brains. Once Katsuki had sat up to pull out, you were fast asleep and sprawled out comfortably on the bed.

"Eh? I did that."

He smuggly muttered to himself, slipping out of you and getting a damp cloth to clean you both with, bringing some spare clothes to change you into aswell. As soon as he snuggled up and was ready to sleep, your phone dinged and lit up, a new message from the group.

The blond only grumbled and tossed the phone to the night stand, turning over to spoon you, kissing over the bruises he left on your skin before sleeping.

#azana #x black reader #chubby!reader #black plus size reader #mha #mha smut #mha bakugou #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #sub bakugou #virgin bakugo #katsuki x black reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo x black reader

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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

Text

You're Angry at the Tall Men

Masterlist Here

I have two very dear mutual creators on here that are struggling with the flu. Hopefully yelling at the tall men of one-piece will help you both out: @feral-artistry & @sordidmusings

Word Count: 200-400 per gentleman: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo

Warnings: anger, violence, suggestive spice for a few, angst, afab!implied but not overly mentioned, height difference.

First time writing for Cora, Croc and Doffy - mainly going off small clips and overall vibes. Apologies if I didn't do your blorbo justice.

(Apprehensive tag list: @gingernut1314, @writingmysanity)

He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.

Buggy: 6’3

“Sit your tall ass down!” you roared at him. The clown shrieked back, immediately reaching his stuttering hands towards the back of a chair to unceremoniously fall back onto the wooden base. Unfortunately, as his ass barely grazes the base; his weight proceeds to fall from its intended target, plopping down onto the cement ground instead of finding comfort on the chair.

“Ah, fuck!” he cried out alongside his wince, his red nose creased as he felt the pain shoot up his coxic bone and tingle up his spine. This moment of failure breaking a small crack in your iron fury, a giggle attempting to break through your anger. He winces his beautiful teal eyes up at you, cringing through the pain and gritting his teeth in an attempt of a smile.

“You are so pathetic,” you growled at him, extending your hand out and collecting his chin within your thumb and index finger. You were held captive by his sparkling eyes beneath his lengthy blue eyelashes as he looked up at you in awe.

“It’s why you love me, right?” he whimpered at you, his crooked smile drawing you in closer to him. You stooped, pressing a small kiss against his rotund, red nose.

“Yes,” you again growled at him, pouting with your brow falling low in the center of your forehead, “but I’m still angry at you.”

“I know,” he grumbled in response, his eyes upturning and almost pleading, “but I can fix that, right?”

Shanks: 6’6

“Woah, woah, love!” he cried out, backing away from your approach with his wide smile plastered to his cheeks. He was still smiling, even when you backed him against the wall with your forearm horizontally pressing him back into the wooden banister behind him.

“You absolute stupid, ridiculous, drunken-,” one look into his loving eyes rendered you immediately defenseless to his aura. He looked at you with such love, his brown eyes holding only softness and adoration within them. He brings up his arm, choosing to caress your cheek and lace a loose strand of your hair to hook over your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into you, leaning his head down and moving his lips against your forehead to murmur into your skin, “forgive me, I didn’t mean it.” Inhaling a deep breath, you feel the rage falling away from you as he continued murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry,” he breathed his raspy voice into your ear.

“And you’re so handsome when you’re not the one making me angry,” you growled back at him.

Mihawk 6’6

“Mihawk!” your rumbled growl echoed in the high ceilings lifting the light in the large dining room. He was stooping, fingertips halting their descent to grasp the back of his dining chair. He huffed out a sigh, rotating his neck and removing his hat from his head. He placed the hat on his dining setting, and prepared himself to receive your wrath.

As soon as you saw him preparing himself to receive the scorn you were about to bear down on him, you decided to switch it up. Something about how smug he was did not satiate your fire from erupting further. You had every intention of taking him by his wrist and leading him to the impressive steps of the foyer and taking a few steps up to bring you to the appropriate height to maintain eye contact as you reprimanded him.

But his ear was right there, no longer shielded by his broad hat to halt your action. Immediately, you pressed your index and middle finger against the overly sensitive shell of his ear and began dragging him towards the archway leading to the foyer.

“Not quite so hard, dear,” he winced as his steps stuttered behind you. You allowed a sinister smirk to rise on your lips, gaining a sickening amount of joy from knowing you were paining him a little to satisfy your wrath. As your feet found the steps, you relinquished your hold on his ear and turned to face him, your eyes first glancing at the raven curls atop his head that you rarely are accustomed to seeing these days. His head was bowed, his hand drawn up to cradle his ear and sooth over the throbbing shell. At this, your anger ceased and you immediately sought out his eyes by cupping his cheeks and elevating his face.

“I’m sorry, my love. Did I hurt you, are you okay?” you hastily spoke, eyes checking over his face for any semblance of hurt or pain.

“Only my pride, dear,” he replied in a soft grumble, continuing to keep his eyes from joining with your own. You sighed in relief before shaking your head to remind yourself why you brought him here in the first place. You furrowed your brow and slunk your hands from his cheeks to fall them against his chest.

“I’m-,” you began, your angry words halted by Mihawk taking a step forward and pressing his forehead against your own.

“-I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he whispered into your face, his eyes half lidded and sorrow falling over his face, “I never meant to hurt you, and I’m willing to spend all the time it takes to make it up to you.”

Sir Crocodile 8’3

Clutching his cigar in his index and middle fingers, he flicked the ash into the glass and gold tray on his desk. He could hear the fall of your feet outside the door, his jaw falling slack in bored frustration.

“You devious bastard,” you growled as the door to his office flung open. He inhaled deeply, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out another cigar to clench his teeth onto. As your eyes met, his brow arched while his eyelids hung half-lidded. He sat back against his armchair and uncrossed his legs from their join of the knees. Remaining wordless, he fished around in his pants for his lighter, to find nothing but his golden pocket watch and a few rolls of berry within his leatherbound wallet.

“Be a dear and find me a light,” he dismissed your anger with the wave of his hand as his eyes searched his desk for his capped lighter. This seemed to engage your fury further, making you immediately lunge at him and crawl onto his lap. You drew your claw-shaped grip up to his jaw, snarling into his face as you did so.

“You think I care about your lighter right now, you arrogant lizard,” you spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise, initially being taken off guard by your presence atop his thigh. Immediately after processing the shock, his eyes darkened as he used his large, golden hook to circle around your thigh; trapping it within the metal and drawing it closer into him. Your kneeling position atop his lap was now made ever more dangerous than it had been, not knowing how he would truly respond to your anger. Both of your tempers began to flare as he snarled at you.

“Lighter first,” he growled at you, looking up into your enraged eyes as your hair cascaded down over his face, draped almost intimately over his forehead. You scoffed, flicking the hair over your shoulder and grimaced at him in response.

“And why should I do that after what you did?” you gnashed your teeth, baring your rage in your now untested situation. The tense air now growing thick and dense as your bodies pressed closer together. He gripped your hips with his hand, his golden hook scraping over your thigh and placing your knee over his waist as he drew you closer.

“Lighter first,” he began to snarl at you, “or I will channel your rage in another way.”

“Try me, Reptile,” you snarled at him, clenching your teeth as you stooped lower into his face. He immediately stood, his tall body hoisting you up against his hips and slamming your back atop his desk. He hovered over your body, leaning his face down and snarling into you,

“You should’ve just done what you were told,” He growled into your neck.

“You shouldn't have pissed me off,” you gnashed your teeth once more, your eyes widening as you felt his teeth bite down hard on your clavicle, soothing over the new injury with his tongue.

Corazon 9’7

“Donquixote Rosinante!” you shouted, walking around the halls and tracking the stupor of his step. You immediately heard a thud, followed by several crashing booms reverberating within the hallway. None of these sounds halted your descent, your rage and fury propelling your steps further towards him.

When your eyes fell over his body, he was hoisting himself up from his entanglement with several cleaning products; a mop over his head and a bucket circling over his left foot. He looked ridiculous, his coat hanging limply from his shoulders over his open heart-stitched shirt.

As he rose to his feet, you were taken aback at how truly tall he was; his body towering over your own. You lost your nerve slightly at his stature, but still the edges of your body remained singed with the fires of rage within your soul.

“Cora-!” your words were halted by the man drawing such anger from you wordlessly holding up his palm to silence you. Your brows fell further down your face, your frown deepening as you watched him silently search his surroundings. His eyes widened first, before softening as he stooped down to collect the bucket that was once wrapped around his foot. He blew over the base of the bucket with a small puff of breath, placing the brim on the ground and dusting the base with the back of his hand.

He turned his painted face up to you, a tight smile pulling at his mouth as he extended his hand to you. You sucked in a breath through your nostrils, pouting as you took his hand. Stepping up onto the bucket, you still remained short to his great height. Still holding onto your hand, his smile softened as he bent at the knees to crouch in front of you, looking up into your face with eyes baring great sorrow at how angry you were with him.

Relinquishing the hold against your hand, he gestured for you to bare your soul out to him with a simple swipe of his hands. He was so willing to have you share your emotions with him, it almost made you want to cry with frustration at how truly loving he was to you.

“You’re just going to sit back and take it? Say something, Cora. Anything!” You screamed, the sting of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued to watch on, never once rising from his crouch, nor bringing his eyes away from searching your face. It was only when a hot, frustrated tear fell from your eye down your cheek that he rose up to his full size once more.

He wordlessly drew his palm up to claim your cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away from its descent down towards your mouth.

“Please,” you whimpered while searching his eyes, “please say something.”

He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, circling the other arm around your shoulders and holding your chest flush with his own. His lips found the crown of your head, pressing a soft and careful kiss against the top of your hair.

“Calm,” he uttered, the room circled around him by the spark of his devil-fruit power. You looked at him confused, your nostrils flaring at him while still expressing your anger.

“Why use the devil-fruit powers now?” you asked him, shaking your head at him as all else in the hallway was silenced. No taps of feet, no drips of taps, nor the sounds of breeze through the trees outside the room could be heard within the silent barrier.

“Because I want everyone to know how angry you are with me,” he uttered, his nose lovingly brushing against your own, “And I want to be able to scream how much I love you with no consequence.” He pressed his lips against your forehead, smearing his red face paint against your skin as he trailed a flurry of gentle kisses against your nose, cheek bones and the corner of your lips in an attempt to smother the flames of your anger.

“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” you spat at him, your narrowed eyes looking at him through your eyelashes remaining dark with fury.

“I know,” he admitted, unwrapping his arm from circling your shoulders. He grazed his arm down and collected your hand once more within his, lacing your fingers together as he uttered, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ll never do it again.”

Doflamingo 10’

He was immediately expressing joy at how riled up he had managed to make you, his lips curling back into a sinister smile. He darted his tongue out over his mouth to dampen his chapped lip before he allowed a rumbly chuckle to exit from his chest.

“Doflamingo!” You screamed, rage and fury overcasting your usual stoic state with their venom. He rose to his feet and was almost bursting at the seams with how happy getting a rise from you was making him.

“How dare you?! How dare you do that to me?!” You roared, not halting your approach in any way. He towered over you, his lanky build condescendingly casting his feathered silhouette over your body.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, speaking quickly with a broad grin continuing to polish his cheeks. His eyes remained hidden by his glasses, your own eyes beginning to prick at the corners with a frustrated rage.

“Wipe that horrible grin off your face before I rip it off,” you spat, your hands demonstrating how truly violent your thoughts were.

“Only if you do it with your teeth, Princess,” he bore his teeth down at you. His smile widened further up his cheeks, your urge to claw out his eyes not satisfied in the slightest. You impulsively swung your hand at his face, your wrist caught within his circled grip. His laughter erupted over his chest at this small demonstration of violence, so easily stifled by his hands.

“Ohh, you’ve got some fire in you today,” he chucked his taunt at you, leaning down further into you; his nose almost brushing against your own with how close he drew himself down to you, “What I’d give to see that demonstrated with your body wrapped around my- AHH.” You halted his words within his mouth by clamping your teeth down against his nose hard enough to draw blood. After tasting the metallic flavor roll over your tongue, you withdrew your teeth from his flesh and bore your red-tinted lips at him.

He reached up to clutch the scruff of your neck, pulling you closer into him and purring a roar of his own into you:

“Mmm, Harder.”

#one piece #one piece live action #x reader #buggy #shanks #mihawk #sir crocodile #donquixote rosinante #donquixote doflamingo #corazon x reader #rosinante x reader #doflamingo x reader #mihawk x reader #shanks x reader #buggy x reader #sir crocodile x reader #One piece drabble #sea-dilf drabble #sea dilfs of one piece

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