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#i refuse to tag that other guy. fuck you
shrinevandal · 3 months
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lost meme dump because i cannot be assed to make individual posts
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lecliss · 28 days
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I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.
#once again i jest but now i have to actually talk about it#like. okay we have no proof of any actual timeline for the dirge flashbacks other than. it was at least 30 years ago#so who knows how long they were at the manor. could have been weeks before The Incident. or months. or maybe a full year! who knows#but to me a timeline of like. they fucked and like a week later vincent found The Evidence and lucercia had her little breakdown#AND THEN EXTREMELY QUICKLY SHE AGREED TO THE EXPERIMENT AND IT COULD GO ONE OF TWO WAYS#1. she knew she was pregnant and thats why she agreed to the experiment cuz there was already a usable subject#and therefore she must have fucked hojo like a week after she fucked vincent AND THATS STUPID FAST FOR THESE EVENTS#or 2. she didnt know. agreed to the experiment. fucked hojo. and therefore thought seph was hojo's and NOT vincent's#AND BY THE WAY. i dont even actually believe hojo fucked either!!! cuz theyre both scientists so why wouldnt they think IVF was the best way#okay. well.... hojo is canonically a fucked up little freak. so. he might have taken the opportunity to... get in there.#also when did ivf even start being a thing? cuz that may play a factor into this if nomura even considered that#well either way lets just unfortunately assume hojo got in there#ITS STILL AN ODDLY FAST TIMELINE#also. fuck man doesnt lucrecia have a later line in dirge where she actually says shes in love with hojo? or something along those lines#IMPLYING ITS BEEN AWHILE SINCE SHE HAD THE FALLING OUT WITH VINCENT. YOU WOULDNT FUCK THE GUY AFTER ALL THAT SHIT#AND WHILE CLAIMING TO LOVE/CURRENTLY FALLING IN LOVE WITH HOJO!!!! LIKE CMON MAN!!!! SHE SUCKS BUT SHES NOT THAT KIND OF A MESS#i dont think vincent would fuck her until they sorted out their issues anyway and that CLEARLY didnt happen.#its VITAL that that did not happen!!!!#its just. if vincent and lucrecia fucked. everything would have had to happen EXTREMELY fast within like a 2 week timespan#and im just talking about up to when vincent learns shes partaking in the experiment. it was probably another week or two until vincent died#SO. logically it must have been like#fall in love->learn about the gimoire incident->refuse to speak to vincent->get obsessed with hojo->fall in love(?)#and then thats where i think its ambiguous on did the experiment become an idea before or after seph started to exist?#like chicken or the egg ya know. experiment idea or sephiroth zygote?#that feels fucked up to say. im so fucking sorry to seph to talk about this. yeah sorry i have to debate who fucked your mom bro#god imagine telling him that. like not even as a reveal thing cuz he knows who his father is. just like as a sick joke. your mom joke.#NO OH M Y GOD I HAVE A QUESTION NOW#in accordance to him having a photo of lucrecia in ever crisis. after he reads that jenova is an ancient (incorrect btw)#does he think that picture is still her? what about when he takes jenova's body from the lab????#oh my god 30 tag limit. FUCK. i need like a rant blog for all this vincent talk now. my brain is going a mile a minute
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walmart-miku · 6 months
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HE CARES SO MUCH IT MAKES ME PHYSICALLY ILL
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LOOK AT HIM LOOK
AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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angorwhosebabyisthis · 2 months
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[cws: psychiatric abuse, torture, homophobia, ableism, sanism, racism, pictures of taxidermy. boy this show is a lot sometimes lmfao]
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so something @thecottageinthedark noticed recently that i'm still fucked up about is that pericles' cage in the asylum isn't actually a bird cage.
it's a bell jar.
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for those who don't know what a bell jar is, it's a type of taxidermy display for preserving delicate specimens, most often birds. it's easy for their feathers to get dusty or disintegrate over time if they're left out in the open; a bell jar not only keeps off dirt and keeps people from touching them, but it's made to create a vacuum inside to keep everything where it is.
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another layer to this reference is that the book The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath, is a retelling of her own experiences with mental illness and the attempts made to treat it at the time. notably, one of the major themes of the book is psychiatric abuse.
pericles is also not only a gay man forcefully committed to an asylum in what is most likely intended to be the 70s, but a very obvious and already horribly handled fantasy metaphor for both physically disabled people and POC. (in particular the talking animals' role in the worldbuilding heavily mirrors Black americans irl, which holy shit there is so much to unpack there all by itself. there is So Much)
(fun little bonus on the side: he's kept in a cell with extremely bright blue/white light 24/7, at an angle where it'd be even more difficult to block it out than if it were overhead. this would make it impossible to get any decent fucking sleep, which is widely recognized as one of the worst forms of torture to exist. they did this to him for 20 years straight.)
so, to recap: gay man and analogue for disabled people/POC, who is also portrayed as an ~evil crazy malicious psychopath,~ is kept in not only a display case for scientific specimens, but one specifically made--in-universe and out--to recreate something that is done to his demographic as a metaphorical disabled person/POC.
and not only that, and not only do people talk about him--in front of him, like he's not even there--as a specimen while gawking at him in this position, but he is being displayed like the stuffed and mounted corpse of a disabled person/POC.
he is said to belong on that display for 'the rest of his miserable [disabled/POC] life.' no one disagrees with this. he's painted as smugly bullying the violent abusive guard. in general he's portrayed as Scary and Evil Now for having been in this situation. and when he escapes, it kicks off what end up being the most heavy-duty problems for the protagonists, which result in the Bad Ending for the nibiru timeline; if he had stayed there, continued to be objectified and tortured with homophobic/racist/ableist violence for the rest of his life, the timeline almost certainly wouldn't have been doomed.
and they used a real person's autobiography about their experiences with psychiatric abuse for this. and to position them in the role of someone it should have not only happened to, but been even more horrifically dehumanizing and cruel.
yeah. i..... yeah.
the creators of this show are genuinely really good at putting together layered references like this, some more obscure than others, which are rewarding to discover and add depth when you do, and it is a crying fucking shame that they like to use it for shit like this. god damn lmao
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tori-artemis · 2 years
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I don't usually make posts when I'm upset about something (or like, at all) but honestly I'm just. Really sick of the Loki fandom as a whole. Like I'm just tired of all the pettiness and bullshit. And tbh it's on both ends of the Loki series/Ragnarok split. Both pros and antis.
This isn't so much a vague post as it's a vent post for me. You see, I've been having these feelings about the Loki fandom overall for months now, and I've seen certain posts from the positive side where I just want to - jump in and say something, or at least speak for myself as an ""anti"" (hate that word btw) bc the amount of generalizing I've seen that goes on over there wrt ppl who dislike the show is just - well it's fucking frustrating. Like it annoys me bc I've heard every dumb overgeneralization since the show first came out, from not wanting Loki to move on bc we're oh-so-traumatized to we're just bitter bc the show didn't go the way we wanted/our hcs of Loki weren't validated, etc.
I think one that annoyed me the most was the claim that ppl who hate/dislike Sylvie as a character do so out of misogyny. And like - maybe there's some truth there wrt how the character/actress tend to be bombarded with gendered slurs, and yes that's not cool, but I've never referred to Sylvie or Sophia as any slur. (In fact I don't even hate Sylvie - what I do hate is how the writers have set her up as a "superior" contrast to Loki, which to me seems very intentional on their part, particularly wrt the Trauma Olympics™ as in "Sylvie had it so much harder" 🙄 - but I digress). Yet I can't help but feel like I'm being lumped in the "antis are misogynists" bin every time I read any of those posts from the pro side, simply bc I dislike the way a character was utilized. The way those posts are written, the way they sound - it's very black and white, overgeneralizing an entire group of fans, there's no nuance or side notes or disclaimers of "hey - I know not all of y'all are like this, this is just about some I've encountered" - not even in the tags, nothing. And I've just wanted so badly to jump in and say: "hey, anti here and I'm not like that" but I refrain, bc I've grown so tired of all the fandom infighting and discourse that I usually don't have the energy to get into it. So when I see someone from that side of fandom jump on a post and say how they dislike being overgeneralized as a fan, and how they feel like they're being misrepresented, or condescended to... I can't help but feel kinda upset by that, ngl. Part of me just wants to say "yes it sucks, but recognize that your side (if not you yourself) does it too. Some of you folks do it too."
Like I've read posts implying/stating that antis who hate the show lack critical thinking skills - and like, look, there might be a bit of truth wrt, say, calling Sylvie an outright abuser (and even I've been a little guilty of agreeing to view her as a person with toxic traits as opposed to the enemy-to-lovers trope she clearly falls into - tho I still can't really fault myself for not being able to take that romance seriously due to how damn rushed and forced it felt - but that's besides the point). But there's just something about the way a lot of these posts are worded, like yes some posts are pretty reasonable, but others are practically dripping with condescending sentiment (for lack of better words) as if we're fucking stupid for having emotional reactions to media as opposed to critical reactions, when isn't that the point of media and art, to illicit emotions? Like yes, the story might be trying to say something (and it might epically fail in doing so, which is how I view the show overall) but it's also meant to move ppl. And if it fails to do so, or it garners an unintended reaction, or the characterization is too inconsistent or the story telling itself is rushed/filled with inconsistencies then can you really blame fans for, well, being blindsided by disappointment/their emotions as opposed to critically analyzing it? And yes I know this is a matter of opinion, but still.
(Like sometimes a story can be extremely well written overall, and very well thought out and fans will just be oblivious to, choose to ignore or even outright refuse to pick up on the symbolism within a story, or the internal motivations/conflicts within a character, or how a character progresses/character arcs in general. Sometimes fans will even completely and intentionally misread a character in their entirety, and the role they play within a story, no matter how skilled and how excellent the writing is within a piece of art. And sometimes fans will just overall fail to realize the major themes/hints that a writer carefully lays out. Yes this is a thing, and one I've been made aware of in the particular fandom that I'm about to join.)
But then there's stories that are just... lazily/half-heartedly written at best, and so I just don't understand where pro stans get off by being condescending to ppl like me who just couldn't be immersed due to all those flaws in storytelling. Especially when I didn't get enough out of it to even see where a lot of these conclusions fans seem to have drawn from it. Like there are some inconsistencies within the story itself, there are things that just don't make a whole lot of sense, there are many contradictions, I didn't just make them up. And again I know, everyone interprets media differently, but I don't really see what a lot of pro fans have taken from the series, bc I personally don't think its there. And I really don't appreciate being thought of as some kind of imbecile for not "getting it" when the media in question is, objectively... not all that great tbh. And I'm being absolutely neutral when I say that, like I'm literally not even hating here.
And like I could've easily have turned around and made a bunch of posts stating how pro fans are "stupid" for putting so much thought into a piece of media I personally find to be stupid or just lacking in general, but I haven't. Bc one: that's a shitty thing to do to ppl, and two: it wouldn't even be true bc so many ppl who I consider very intelligent have enjoyed this show, and do put a lot of thought into analyzing it, so despite me not really seeing where they're coming from I want to respect that. And look, it's not like I haven't had those presumptuous thoughts or knee jerk reactions, bc yeah I am in an echo chamber too, and I'm no saint - I'm definitely human and I've had some overgeneralized, uncharitable takes. But I recognize this about myself, I don't post that shit. Which is why I get so upset when I see so many other fans do just that.
Also there is a definite misuse of the depiction of torture, which is used to convey certain themes, and that's very unfortunate, and IMO very bad writing/storytelling. I probably would've been a little more charitable towards the series overall if the Sif-beatdown timeloop scene had been scrapped altogether like the writers seriously should've considered doing (due to the fact that torture has so many misconceptions and is grossly excused in the majority of media which has unfortunate real world consequences) and instead focus more on Loki confronting his fear of being alone, if that truly is what the intention for that scene was. Like yes, some antis might go overboard wrt the messaging within the show, but when it comes to things like the atrocious time loop scene... that's not a made up thing we just happen to pull out of nowhere, that's something the writers put in there and therefore, yeah that's pretty fucked.
Then on the other side I'll find myself liking a post from a negative series fan bc I'll agree with the overall sentiment of it, only to unlike it right after reading the tags bc they've said something like "ppl who like this show/movie/etc are stupid" or "if you ever defended or even enjoyed TR fuck you" - and like??? WTF. I understand disliking the show or whatever but why the hell would you brush over an entire group of real, actual people as "idiots" for simply liking a piece of media??? Like - do I think the show was a disjointed mess? Yeah, I do. Do I think it was poorly written? Yes. Do I even think the reasoning behind a lot of these writing decisions was really fucking stupid on the creators part (or at the very least, that they failed to convey their ideas clearly)? Absolutely. But that doesn't mean anyone who's ever enjoyed the show is stupid for doing so, and I say this as someone who does have the knee-jerk reaction to go "how could you like that show, it sucked so much!"
But like, at the end of the day I understand that ppl take different things out of media. And just bc you find something so stupid or unwatchable, doesn't mean others will, and that's okay bc ppl are different and have different tastes and IDK how ppl don't fucking get that??? Like why is this even a hot take when it's literally just a fact???
It's shit like this that makes me feel like leaving the fandom all together. Which I don't really want to do, bc despite everything wrong with fandom and despite my own personal disappointment with the latest Loki/Thor franchise installments I still really love Loki as a character, and I still want to write fic revolving him. I even still want to make friends within the Loki fandom bc that's literally why I created this blog in the first place, to befriend other Loki fans, like I could've easily stayed being a lurker within the fandom but regardless I think at this point it's farfetched to want this bc the fandom's just way too split and way too hostile and way too fucking eager to be uncharitable and condescending af. And I'm just tired. I'm just... really really tired of the pettiness, the condescending attitude a lot of fans seem to fucking have for anyone who might think differently from them.
I'm tired of the gatekeeping - on both sides. It's on both sides. Because saying "real Loki fans would never like/defend TR/the show" and "how anyone can claim to be a Loki fan if they hate him/his own show" aren't so far apart from each other, both sentiments basically say the same thing, just from polarized viewpoints.
And I wish more fans would just recognize that.
#Loki fandom negativity#I refuse to tag this as anything else bc this isn't about the show - it's the fandom#look I'm just tired guys#I've been fed up and sick of all the damn fucking pettiness#Maybe I'm being overdramatic here#But in my defense I too am in the middle of experiencing that time of the month...#(I swear this isn't so much about that particular post as it is about all the other posts and nonsense I've seen#and the disappointment I've had with fandom that's just been pent up inside of me)#I know ppl follow me who are really entrenched in the negativity side who might take offense to this#And while I'm not really trying to offend anyone here I don't really want to go on pretending that I'm not kinda upset by all the -#posts and hot takes and hate bashing of fans/folks who might've actually enjoyed the show - bc yeah I hate that damn show too#but I can't help but feel disappointed when ppl start calling folks ''idiots'' and whatnot for enjoying a piece of media#THIS IS A BOTH SIDES ISSUE AND IM FUCKING TIRED OF IT#ALL OF YOU (GENERALLY) FUCKING GATEKEEP THE FANDOM#BOTH CONDESCEND THE OTHER SIDE AND ITS. FUCKING SHITTY#NO IM NOT A MISOGYNISTIC IDIOT WHO'S INCAPABLE OF CRITICALLY ANALYZING A MEDIOCRE/SUBPAR SHOW#AND NO JUST BC I HATE THE SHOW DOESNT MEAN I WANT TO HATEBASH ANYONE WHO ENJOYED IT#PPL ARENT IDIOTS OR STUPID FOR LIKING/DISLIKING A PIECE OF MEDIA FFS#like even discussing with some friends on discord is frustrating when they say things like ''i judge ppl who like the show''#like no. stop doing that shit. dont condescend others like that#if anyone seeing this feels offended and wants to block/unfollow thats okay#ive already made another blog focusing on a completely different fandom#so im probably going to be dipping out of here soon anyway#i just wanted to get this off my chest before doing so#also i know there are some cool ppl here on both sides/in the middle but im just done#i said i wasnt going to talk about the show but then i just went and did so#loki series criticism i guess#might as well title this post 'How to lose friends and alienate loki fans'#tldr: everyone (generally) in this damn fandom is fucking petty and IM TIRED
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widevibratobitch · 2 months
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aaaaaaand it's starting. mom's bestie just texted me asking to come over this weekend cause it's Bad and it's probably the last chance to talk and maybe say goodbye to my mom's husband and i need to take care of her. god. i wont get through this weekend unless im high or drunk istg.
#time to slightly overdose my depression meds again ig lol#anyway. it is a little better with me these last two weeks. turns out the meds do work when you actually take em regularly#but first my best friend's break up that she's blowing up to unimaginable size#acting as if she just got divorced with the love of her life after 20 years#and not ended a few months long relationship with a guy who's been the source of most of her troubles since the moment they started dating#(ofc she's valid and id never tell her that because like. i get it. some people feel stuff more deeply. but its hard to be supportive#when you genuinely feel like this is the best possible outcome for her and that the relationship was only dragging her down all this time)#and now this. and this is gonna be infinitely worse. and then it's gonna get a million times worse when he actually does die.#and i feel like the worst most selfish person ever which like. probably am. but i did tell my cousin who actually knows my mom really well#and she said she understands and that my fears ARE valid because SHE'S terrified of how she's gonna handle my mom#and she wouldn't wanna be me in that situation cause it's gonna be so much worse for me lmao#like i feel like people who know my mother casually really dont understand just how unhinged emotionally she is#anyway. i feel so overwhelmed. i cant handle this jesus.#but im also emotionally unavailable and refuse to actually confide in another person because i dont want to be a bother <3333#god i love tumblr. i can literally type anything in those tags lol it's the perfect form of venting since you can just scroll by#but i will still have let it out of myself anyway uwu i literally dont need that therapy fr#anyway. i feel so unbelievably fucking lonely and on one hand it's my own fault for withdrawing and refusing to ask for help.#but on the other hand. i AM alone. like there's no one who can help me in this particular situation.#i have no siblings. obviously my dad isnt gonna help. it all falls down to me. good god. i wanna throw up.
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nyxi-pixie · 1 year
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the most important thing abt noah coming out is that the people going 'hehe how does our fav strAIGHT frat boy play that fucking gayass so well??😱😱' had to stfu😁👍
#its annoying when people do it abt anyone tbh#that was so fucking irritating lmfaoooo#me omw to remind the masses of hets and chronically online 12yr old queers whove never met a gay person irl that we're not a monolith🤩#it doesnt escape my notice that yall say it more violently the second anyone so much as iMPLIES that they mighy not be straight#'speculating is bad' yes! but shockingly! yelling to the moon + back that them being not straight is impossible is not the best alternative#and perpetuates every dumbass stereotype#im so tired#also if you say hey maybe stop insisting theyre str8 for no reason every 5 seconds for a cheap joke abt the queer character they play#then everyone immediately is frothing at the mouth holding a chainsaw to ur throat#def not indirecting anyone w this😟#i dont even remember who it was but someone was always putting those stupid noah straightest man in the world jokes on my dash#n i just used to stare at them like holy shit u guys are gonna be shocked when u encounter gay ppl outside of the internet.#my tags ran away from me again#but i hope u guys Hear Me on this shit bc this happens w every celebrity ever#and then ppl turn around and pretend the problem was ppl thinking they might be queer#instead of ppl refusing to believe theyre anything other than straight#anyway.#am a little late to posting abt him i know😔 have been so ia here recently but i saw it when it happened and am vv proud of him#<33 just to get a little of track at the end here#but yeah hes lovely and i wish people who were insisting he was straight would understand him as an examole that gay ppl arent all the same#but they wont cos they immediately turn to going 'omgggg our fav slayqueen i always knew hehehehe he just looks so fruitsalad'#heed my warnings i am a conduit of rage and violence and one day im going to use it on those ppl#oh fuck this was so many tags i am an unrestrained tag menace#a tennis if you will#aha like the game#anyway#byler#(<- it isnt but this is where i was seeing 'Straight Frat Boy Noah could never be gay' posts so.)#(not most of you tho<333 just a few)#right im going back to reading this 700k word fic from another fandom when will i return to tumblr?? who knows. not me
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nanabanonana · 17 days
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???? are we including disclaimers now???? wtf???
just saw someone parentheses their art w “i don't think they're canon, i just like them” and ??? wtf is happening
pls say sike
what is the MATTER w you people?? ships don't have to be canon to be enjoyed!!!!
let me repeat that
SHIPS DON'T HAVE TO BE CANON TO BE ENJOYED
jfc at the rate this is going i'm straight up abandoning the internet and living in obscurity. i can't even process this. how do y'all keep forgetting that fandom is about enjoying things?
if you wanna make shit up bc you think it's neat, go ahead!
if a couple isn't canon, you don't have to include a disclaimer. it's not a question of intelligence or morals. you can like whatever the fck you want. it doesn't have to be canon. jfc.
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joontroverted · 28 days
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of course other women want your boyfriend
pairing: nanami kento x reader
tags: nanami is 34. is that a warning? lol.
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"your dad's kinda hot."
the bar isn't too full, just the regular crowd, and then some. of course there were other college kids, none that you knew. well, except this one.
you've seen aiko around, always at the back of the class. not that that's worth shaming, you ended up back there too often due to sleepy mornings to be looking down on her.
no, it's the constant bitching and laughing during class that pissed you the fuck off. not an ounce of respect or decorum for the rest of you depressed losers just trying to make it out of class with notes that made sense, or the poor professor, who has long since given up on admonishing her. so maybe you did once tell her off in the middle of class a week before finals. just once. or twice.
and here she is, having tapped on your shoulder as you were sipping your drink, bitching and laughing with her friends hanging behind her, snickering along.
"that's not my dad," you reply, ticked off.
her eyes widen in faux shock. "even better then! I didn't wanna make it too messy for you. what's his instagram?"
you laugh, bunching up your shoulders, finally putting down your drink and getting up. you're usually not the jealous type, and you're not even feeling jealous right now, more like a bubbling irritation.
"he doesn't have an Instagram. he's thirty four, what instagram do you think you're gonna be hitting him up on, huh?"
"thirty four? he looks forty plus at least! I didn't know being with a stuck up bitch like you would age a man like that, but makes sense!" she scoffs, looking you up and down.
"so you can pick up on social cues! I was wondering how you couldn't figure out that he's my boyfriend from the kiss he gave me or, perhaps from the way he was holding me, but turns out you're just a rude bitch who wants to slather her fingers all over my boyfriend!" you snap at her.
that makes a few people around you look over, and as much as you wanted to smack her across her face, you needed to maintain your standards.
"then where is he now? where's your boyfriend? and which forty year old brings his little girlfriend on a night out to a bar like-"
"there you are, sweetheart."
kento slides his arm around your waist, slipping into the seat next to yours.
nanami kento. thirty four. food critic! 6' 1", honey blonde hair slicked back, but a few pieces spill out on to his face, deep brown eyes that are both soft and sharp. his white shirt's sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing his thick forearms, veiny with light, golden hair. the bar and the girl in front of you almost fade to the back of your mind when his cologne hits your nose, sending you into a daze.
almost.
"ken!" you breathe.
"did i keep you too long? you know satoru, refusing to get to the point," he frowns, dropping a kiss on your forehead. "what's got you all worked up?"
"hey!"
his eyes leave yours to look at aiko. "yes?"
"how come she doesn't bring you around more often? she's always all by herself, in her own little world! so shy, really! i'm aiko, we go to class together!" she smiles at him, all cute and bubbly like.
"what are you trying to do?" you ask, shouldering youself between kento and her. "you trying to swoop in and show him a better life or something? do you need attention that bad?"
"oh my god, you guys, look she's getting all bothered!" she gasps to her friends around her. "no babe i didn't mean it like that, i just meant it like i am personally, SO happy that someone like you's found love, you know? even if it's with someone who is SO different from you, you're finally out of your shell, and clearly, there is someone for everyone!" she gushes, and then looks over your shoulder at kento.
"why are you looking at him, look at me," you interject, something finally snapping in you. kento can sense the change in you, and places his hands on your waist.
"sweetheart, i think- "
you appreciate it, but you can handle this, you're FINE.
"no no," you repeat, "look at me! because do you think he's gonna treat you the way he treats me? do you think he's gonna keep up with your bullshit, and your little friend group and not see you for the pathetic attention seeking loser you are? you think he's gonna buy you the stuff you want and take you to all your raves and whatnot? this man goes to sleep every night by eleven thirty! you don't see him at parties because he's thirty four fucking years old, and his definition of a night out is wine and fine dining, with ME! he treats me like this, and buys me whatever the fuck i want, because i'm me, he's not gonna treat you like that babe!"
"don't get all worked up!" aiko spits "we can just be friends, you know!" she twirls her hair, her eyes still on kento.
"what are you twirling your hair for? he's not even looking at you, the only thing that that's gonna do is make you even balder. spending all your time trying to poach another bitch's man the whole time your bald spot's been making direct eye contact with me."
she gasps, and deep down you know you would never say that to a girl unless she absolutely deserved it, and aiko has been begging for it.
kento squeezes your waist, standing up, towering over you from behind.
"baby, she said she just wanted to be friends, didn't she?" he asks. "why don't you give her my instagram?"
aiko chuckles, seeming to have recovered. she pushes her phone into his hands, instagram open, and he hands it over to you diligently.
you scoff and type in his username, pressing the follow button and shoving it back to her.
"now that that's done," sighs kento, holding you. "it's getting a little hot in here, isn't it honey? let's get this scarf off of you."
his hands unfasten the scarf that you had tied around your neck, that you're sure aiko just attributed to poor fashion sense. despite the previous chaos, your eyes follow his thick fingers as the open the knot, and unloop the scarf from around your neck, causing the scarf to slip out and leave you neck bare in the deep v neck top you had put on this morning.
deep red and purple bruises litter your neck, all the way down to your breasts, disappearing off behind the lace borders of the neck of your top.
kento stares at you, smug and unclouded desire clear on his face. he slides his hands up and holds the sides of your neck firmly, squeezing slightly. he pulls you closer and your lips meet in a deep kiss, his thumbs rubbing slow circles on your cheek. the kiss leaves you breathless as he pulls away and leans back in to place on more kiss on your wet, parted lips, taking you by surprise.
"that's perfect," he thumbs on one of the hickies, eyes never leaving you. "my perfect girl."
warmth floods up your chest and face. a smile can't help but spread across your face as you lean into him.
"let's go, love. dinner, wine and that eleven thirty nap time awaits us," he chuckles, taking your hand, gathering your bag and turning away to leave, not a single glance given to aiko.
aiko!
you turn to her, a lazy, easy grin on your face, glancing to her phone open with kento's instagram, and then back up at her. "happy stalking!"
aiko and her friends are sure to spend the night pouring over kento's instagram, which is filled to the brim with pictures of you, you and him, food, you, travel and his girlfriend, you.
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DO NOT REPOST
yay first fic!!!
likes, reblogs, comments HIGHLY appreciated 🩷
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simpjaes · 1 month
Text
HARD CASH, EASY MONEY (p.js)
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Jay is rich-rich and likes to frequent the strip club you dance at. You know regulars tend to have their favorite dancers, but to become his favorite? Oh, well….you knew he’d rent out a private room sooner or later. 
Or the one where you tell jay that if breaks the rules, he’s going to have to fork up a very large sum of money and, well, he seems entirely ready to pay up. 
minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.
WORDCOUNT― 5.4k
PAIRING― jay x afab reader
CONTENT― pussy drunk and rich as hell jay, stripper reader, jay is taller than reader.
NOTE: if u read this before no u didn’t bc i reworked a lot of it!!! just to cover my bases, hi i am ncteez and if you feel like this fic sounds too close to another one, its because i wrote them both!!! thank you!!! 
nsfw tags under cut:
nsfw tags: lap dancing, shy-ish jay, unprotected sex, cream pie, doggy style on a couch, thick cock jay, reader doesn’t cum lmfaooooo
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Having sex with a client is a big no-no in the industry you’ve grown to love. You are to be desired, eye-fucked, and paid to look sexy. The fact that you don’t have to give them any part of you outside of a show?  What’s not to love about it? 
There are men who try to get touchy, men who are too shy to make eye contact, and men who refuse to break eye contact. All three of these types of clients bring in the big bucks and tend to become regulars to either yourself or one of the other girls who make the men believe they are also an object of desire. 
It’s easy, really. After all, why not use the goods you were born with to make the big bucks?
Then you have those clients. The men with big-shot jobs, walking in and ordering the most expensive drink, quietly observing the women as if they aren’t even interested at all. The ones who have wives, children, and stresses that will weigh on them the moment they walk out of their homes for work. 
To them, you are their secret little stress relief and you often find yourself acting out towards them, letting them break a rule or two, perhaps. Dancing a little longer for them sometimes just to really rake in the dollars. Mostly because they’re the ones who pay your expensive rent. They’re the reason you can live on the high-end of the city and buy new, sexy, lingerie to wear each night you dance and bounce around on the stage. 
Jay was one of those men, so you assumed. A little young looking if you’re being honest, but who are you to pry when he’s throwing hundreds at you and the other dancers? 
 You remember the first time he walked through those doors. You thought he was going to be one of the shy men, avoiding eye contact and shuffling uncomfortably on his seat to hide the boner, presumably ashamed to know he could never have the women up on stage that are intentionally making him hard. 
He isn’t though, and you swear just last weekend he bought out the entire fucking club because he was the only one watching on a late saturday night, silently judging each dancer. You also remember when he made eye contact with you on that night. His eyes were sharp under the dimmed lighting and you swear he could hear the way your heart skipped a beat with the intimidation, mostly because the motherfucker smirked before throwing out five crisp hundred dollar bills.
Even on the first night he ever attended, the girls talked. You remember when your best friend ran back in her six inch pumps, jumping with glee and explaining that the new guy threw two hundred at her only a minute into her dance. 
Naturally, all the girls wanted to put on a show for him after that.
He appeared to be rich. And everyone was shocked, really, because even the richest of clients typically don’t give a bill over fifty to the dancers unless he pays for privacy. This man though? He was tipping with bills that showed his status. 
It was really only natural from that moment forward for each girl plus yourself to try and win him over. You’d stay near his side of the stage, directing the gyrating and pussy shots right at him just to see those bills flutter to the floor of the stage. 
In all honesty though, these types of clients never stay long. Usually they’re in the city on business and visit once, only to never come back. This one though? Oh, he keeps coming back. Every. Single. Saturday. 
Having no ring on his fingers only made it better because many of the married men do not feel the guilt of ogling women while married. Huge turn off. Like, hey, if they don’t touch, it’s not cheating right? Either way, eating fancy and living in your nice flat paid for by the lust of men is a perfect lifestyle for you. Even if you have to pretend to like the pigs pretending to love their wives.
You called dibs on this new man as quickly as you could, to the dismay of the other dancers. Calling dibs was never truly honored though, because who the man chooses is usually who ends up dancing for him and getting the most money. 
This guy never seemed to choose a girl though. He never pays for dances, never speaks, never so much as shivers in his seat at the image of a pussy sticking to panties in front of his face for his money. All he does is watch and throw bills.
You should be pleased. After all, he’s kind of a perfect client.
Weeks and months go by at this point and Jay keeps his regular Saturday night appearances. After what you and all the other dancers believe regarding him buying out the club last weekend, he’s a very welcome face to see. 
Tonight though, several dancers have come back into the lounge crying because this guy didn’t tip them a fucking dime. Given, a bouncer shows up not ten minutes after each crying face with a nice tray of drinks and an envelope with their stage names on it. 
It’s gotten to the point now that with how long he’s been visiting the club, some girls even roll their eyes at him. Wondering how desperate he must be, how privileged he must be to flaunt his money the way he does. 
Still, that doesn’t stop every single one of you from working your bodies for him in hopes of more, more, more money. 
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Same old, same old at the club half a year later. Saturday night, several regulars, several new faces, and of course, that young rich guy sitting front and center. 
You walked into work just as the sun began to set and there he was. At this point you can tell by the back of his head with that nice hair cut. So many other men show up disheveled, and half of them are already wasted by the time later shows even start. Still, you smile in knowing you’ll make rent again this month. After all, you just spent a bit too much money on some new shoes and outfits. 
Still, but this point regarding this rich ass guy, even you’re getting annoyed. Every saturday he tips you anywhere between five hundred to a thousand dollars. Given, you’re very aware that it’s much more than the other dancers get, and you kind of have been lying about the amount he tips you so they don’t feel bad. It’s the fact that he isn’t giving anyone a chance to really show him a good time. 
Private rooms and VIP services are highly sought after in this club and he can definitely afford it. It just appears that he doesn’t want to get personal with anyone.
Given, there’s no sex involved, of course. It’s just intimate lap dances, music of their choosing, sharing drinks, and occasionally just becoming a therapist for loser old men. Still, you wish he’d give you a chance to really get into your moves. 
And, well, would you look at that.
You’re in the back room settling into your seat to lace up your new shoes when one of the owners walks up to you. 
“You’ve got a dance.” He says to you, smiling. “You’ll never guess who it is.”
You look at yourself in the mirror, popping your lips with the pretty lipgloss before wiping some off that overlined your lips, and then shift your eyes to the owner through the glass. 
“Jake, again?” 
The owner shakes his head with a laugh. Surely Jake would be here soon to try and get you to dance for him again though. 
“Who, then?” You laugh, leaning back down to fix a strap on your shoe. 
“His name is Park Jongseong, goes by the name of Jay.”
“Okay?” You laugh, turning in your chair to face the man. “Is this his first time buying a dance?”
“Oh yeah.” The owner says brightly. “He bought you out for the entire night, head to room 11 when you’re dressed, he’s already made himself at home.” 
Nothing else is said by the owner as he turns and walks out. 
“The whole night?” One of the girls laughs at your situation. “You’d better hope he tips well.”
“Well, buying out the entire night sounds expensive, he must be one of the rich ones.” You laugh with a shrug, a little frustrated that your new shoes won’t be seen by the foot-fetish men. They’re always out and feral on Saturdays. 
“Maybe–” The other dancer laughs, looking at you with kind of a pitiful look. “Hope he’s not ugly.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
You’ve done so many private dances before, but none that had ever taken the entire shift. To be fair, you didn’t even know they could do that. You assume that the owner took the offer because he decided the money was worth it. Wondering how much was offered to pay for your presence, you feel kind of good. 
This isn’t exactly a cheap club, surely this is a great opportunity. 
Whoever Jay is though, he’d better make this wasted shift worth your time.
“Hi,” You whisper without looking up, sauntering into room 11 with a small voice. They always like when you’d act smaller in terms of personality, submissive even. 
The lights are dimmer than usual when you walk in and you’ve only used this room once or twice during your entire career at this club. It was the most expensive room, one with its own pole, a large velvet couch, and more space to move around compared to the others. 
The man doesn’t respond to you as your eyes adjust to him, but then–Oh.
Oh.
Jackpot.
“Jay?” You look at the man who had spent thousands on you and the other dancers since he’d become a regular. “That’s the name of the man who spoils us?” 
He just nods at you, staring you up and down with the same sharp eyes he had the night you’d first seen him. 
“Not a man of many words?” You question, walking over to him slowly, swinging your hips like the way you always do when you’re on the clock. “So, I take it you won’t tell me why you picked me, huh?” You laugh playfully, looking over to the pole but parking yourself in front of him. 
“Why wouldn’t I have picked you?” He lets out, taking a sip of his drink. “You’re my favorite to watch.”
Hearing his voice felt surreal, somehow setting him apart from any other client you’ve had seated in front of you. His voice is smooth, but you can’t tell if you think that because he’d held your curiosity for the longest time, or because he just said you’re his favorite to watch.
“Oh yeah?” You smile at him with a tilt of your head. “Lucky me.” 
With that, you see how he relaxes against the couch to watch you. Business as usual. You don’t even ask how much he shelled out for this, because you know it had to be a lot. His first offer was probably much more than what the owner would have accepted to begin with. 
You do your job for him though, twirling and sliding yourself against and on the pole. The music is a lovely choice, one that is chill enough to move slowly, but upbeat enough to bounce and wiggle for him. 
The pole is cold as usual, allowing your nipples to perk enough to where, now, because he is closer to you than he had ever been, he can see them. You definitely see him watching too, still with that same bored expression despite the money he lends out just to experience it. You continue your routine, spreading your cheeks, pressing your tits together, making eye contact with him, smirking, and licking your lips. 
Jay mouths the lyrics to the songs sometimes, but his eyes never leave you even when he dips his head for a drink. His eyes are less sharp now compared to before, being replaced with a hazy kind of look as he drags his gaze up and down your mostly-exposed body. 
Noting that you’ve never seen his face shift before out in the main area, you believe that you are experiencing Jay actually reacting to a woman now. No longer looking uninterested but tipping as if he had cum in his pants during each dance. You feel entirely desired by him, and you kind of like it. 
“I think you’re the most handsome client I’ve ever danced for.” You say in a soft voice, slowly backing away from the pole as the song changes. After all, you always sweet talk clients when it’s a one on one like this, though usually you’re lying. You actually mean it this time. “Do you know the rules?” 
Jay nods as his legs spread a bit when you walk towards him. He knows you’re taking your time because he did pay for the entire night. 
“No touching.” You whisper as the bass picks up on the speakers. It’s lap-dance time at the moment, and like always, you recite the most important rule. 
He nods again, eyes glued to you as you turn around in front of him and begin to ghost your ass over his lap. 
Watching you, he is well aware of the rules and perfectly comfortable with them. He would never violate a woman regardless of how sexy he finds her. He can buy her time, but he knows he can’t buy her intimacy on any level higher than he already has. 
You dance against him for what feels like an hour, but only three songs come and go. Jay is stoic beneath you but you can see his facade break every now and then. He will shake his head to himself sometimes, or flutter his eyes closed when your tits are less than an inch from his face. 
Usually, he is great at composing himself in this kind of situation. He knew when he became a regular here that having you would be impossible but that didn’t stop him from showing up. He knows it’s your job, and you act this way with everyone, so he can’t just break composure and show you just how fucking badly he wants you. Truly, he can’t embarrass himself by being so obvious.
“I imagine you’re struggling, Jay–” You break him out of his thoughts by calling him out instantly,  turning and now spreading your legs across his lap to sit on him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, mostly because you know he’s going to tip you big time. “Don’t you want to touch?” 
He stutters out a laugh, and maybe believing he was one of the shy clients isn’t entirely untrue.
“It’s against the rules.” He deadpans, keeping his hands at his sides and glancing away from you, trying not to imagine the fact that he’s got the prettiest stripper in the club grinding against his cock right now. Though you’re not entirely grinding against it, he can feel a soft sort of friction every few seconds as you dance on top of him. 
“Do you want to break the rules?” You tilt your head, knowing that you’re already touching him by wrapping your arms around him and kind of like, being incredibly attracted to him. You’d probably let him break more than a few rules if he wants it, not just for the tips either.
When he looks up to make eye contact with you, you nod at him and he follows, nodding himself.
“If you break a rule and touch me, you will have to pay me a hefty fine not to tell on you.” You laugh cheekily, batting your lashes and bouting your lips at him. 
He could pay your rent for the next several months if he wanted to  just for fucking fun? Like hell you’d report him for touching you when you’re struggling yourself not to touch him more.
“How much?” He instantly says, smirking as if you could name any price. For him though, hearing you suddenly offer some sort of deal in order to let him touch you has his mind doing flips.
Rules, rules, fucking rules.
Fuck the rules, he can afford to break them.
You’re a little taken aback by his playing along. You were mostly joking, but the suggestion is still there if he’s the type to... y’know, wanna fool around with a stripper. 
“Half a mil.” You joke again, pulling back from his lap to slap against his arm, knowing the price is too high but flirting anyway. “Touch me and you lose”
You didn’t expect him to nod back at you. 
“Five hundred thousand.” He confirms, keeping his hands at his sides. “Go on then, try and win your money.”
You’re fucking floored. Half a million is really on the line right now? There’s no fucking way he thinks he can lose. No way would a man really put that much on the line just to see if you can seduce them into breaking a rule that you’d allow him to break for free. 
The game is on now though, it seems,  as you do everything in your power to tease the ever-loving fuck out of the rich man in front of you. You ruffle his hair, you ghost your lips over his and everywhere else, you dance against him, on him, around him. You spread your legs out for him, slapping your own clothed pussy, you tease your nipples at him as if you’d pull your breasts out. 
You can see him start to falter about two hours into the game. You had whispered into his ear and noted how he leaned into it. When you walked around the couch so that you could stand in front of him again, you saw how painfully hard he had become. Lowering yourself to your knees in front of him as if you would be in a position to swallow his cock whole, you look up at him innocently. “Is that for me?”
Jay groans, nodding shortly. He’s definitely breaking, and he’s starting to not care. 
“I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now–” He admits when he drops his hand from his hair and looks at you with a crooked smile. 
You smile at him, that half a mil is yours. 
“Oh yeah?” You run your hands up and down his thighs. “You’ve wanted to fuck me before?” 
Jay nods, watching how dangerously close your hands get to his cock, lending a twitch and hoping you notice it. 
“You’ll lose if you touch me though–” You’re cut off by him, seething out words in a deeper voice.
“You act like I didn’t intend to lose.” He says, leaning forward and pinching your chin between his fingers, lifting your head to look at him. 
When he lifts your chin, he pulls your face a bit closer, shifting your body in a way that allows him to slot a leg between yours from the floor. He stares at you, almost like he knows that even after giving you the prize money, he’d still be the one to win. 
“D-did you?” You say, a bit intimidated by him and his rough hand holding your face, he forces you to look at him. 
“I did.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You’ve never moved your body like this on stage, was I wrong to think you’d let me fuck you?” 
You shake your head, sticking your tongue out a bit to lick the tip of his thumb, unintentionally rubbing your pussy against his shin. 
“But I don’t fuck clients.” You try to argue for the sake of it, despite Jay definitely being a client you want to fuck.
“Oh yeah?” He says, turning your face to the side and skewing his neck to see your ass. “Is that why you’re practically fucking my leg right now?” 
You bashfully shake your head out of his grip, halting your hips and pulling back from how close his face is to yours. “No?” He laughs, leaning back and crossing his arms as he looks down at you. 
“I mean…“ You go back on your own word. “You already touched me and–” You shrug. ”I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t wet right now.”
Jay’s cock instantly twitches against his pants as he smirks at you with a confident nod.
“Stand up then.” He says, nodding his head more as if to motion you to do as he says. His legs spread as you rise to your feet and he instantly adjusts himself when he goes to stand up in front of you too.
Fuck, he’s taller than you and the way he looks down at you feels so much more intimating than before. You are entirely silent when he towers over you and you flinch a bit when his arm wraps around your waist.
You’re a little shocked by how rough he is when he moves you around, twisting you to where you’re facing the couch and being shoved down against it. “This is what you wanted, right?” He seethes out as you hear his belt being unbuckled.
Almost in a whine, you whisper out a ‘yes’. He’s floored by the sound of it, because it almost sounds like a fucking plead. Lucky me, he thinks. 
After all, he’s watched you for months moving your body like you need a cock to fill it. Not just dancing like the other girls, you would fuck the stage for him and his money. And now? Oh, you’re gonna get fucked. 
Jay doesn’t hesitate after hearing you, the money he’s lost in the bet is so far in the back of his mind because to be fair, he would have paid far more just to look at you. The only reason he’s pulling his cock out right now is because you fucking want it. 
The bet was to not touch you. It appears you’d be pleased with both his cock and his money.
Not because it’s your job either, quite frankly, he knows it isn’t your job to fuck clients. He feels special, and he knows he damn well should be special. 
You were seeing stars from the moment he touched your face, but this? God, this is more than you could have imagined. Such a fit, attractive man throwing his money at you and slipping your panties to the side just to see what no one else in this club sees. You wonder if his mouth is watering, if his hands are trembling, if his cock is twitching. 
Jay slips a finger into you with ease and without warning, just to test and see if you really do want him to fuck you into the next dimension, and thankfully, you’re more wet than he could have imagined. 
“Goddamn, baby, you want it?” He asks, confirming for himself that this is all for him. 
You nod your face against the couch, arching in a way that props your ass up a little higher for him. 
“Good good.” He says, fucking his finger into you a bit more before taking another step forward and resting his cock between your cheeks for a moment. 
“Letting your clients fuck you?” His hand wraps around your middle and pulls you up and against, grunting into your ear. “You always do this?”
You couldn’t even answer when you feel him press his cock down and between your legs. So fucking thick. 
“Go on, look.” He demands against your ear, holding you still against him with his arm as he slides between your folds. You look down to see the head of his cock peeking from between your legs and the image alone had you feeling gagged.
When you moan out at the image, you hear him chuckle against your ear and then you feel him pull his hips back, angling himself perfectly so that he can slide his cock into you. 
In one long, languid thrust, you feel the entirety of him. You can hear his sigh against you, and feel his hand tighten around your middle when he bottoms out. 
His cock is so thick, pulsing inside of you and weeping out thick pre-cum, only offering more to the wet you drench him in. 
“Ah, listen to that–” He says, releasing your middle and slamming his hips back and forward just a few times to let the sound of how wet you are echo under the music. “So wet for the money, hm?” He continues, now pressing you into the cushions of the couch, knowing you’ll soon be biting against the fabric. 
You hum against the cushions, rolling your eyes back at the delicious feeling of him paired with his voice. 
“Or is it for me?” He asks now, voice coming out in a low rumble as he slams his hips into you repeatedly with deep pushes and sharp drags. 
You nod again, almost frantically as you lift yourself to grip onto the back of the couch, and when you turn your head to look behind you, Jay is almost glaring at you with that same devilish smirk on his face. 
Almost as if, even if he’s losing all that money, he’s fucking winning right now. 
 You watch his neck tense when he throws his head back with a drawn-out moan shortly after, and he doesn’t stop. He snaps his hips so quickly, and fucks into you so hard that all you can do is let out small whimpers each time the head of his cock hits a soft spot inside of you.
And when he doubles over you, using his other hand to stretch your panties impossibly far to the side, lying his head against your shoulder, you can tell he’s losing his composure too.
He’s so cocky, but goddamn is it nice to feel a man like this lose composure because of your pussy.
 His hips stutter in and out of you and his breathing is heavy, fingers gripping both of your ass cheeks and spreading them every few seconds only to release them and watch them bounce together before slapping hard against the flesh.
“Can’t believe you’re spread out for me right now,” He moans out as he reaches his hand up and swipes his hair out of his face, and then his hips snap back into you sharply. Almost pointed.
“Knew you would be too, I saw the way you looked at me baby– you wanted it too.” He breathes out with each thrust, as if he knew he would have you under him someday, you don’t argue. If you had met Jay on the street and he hit on you, you’d be far too easy for him to capture. 
“Don’t ever let another man do this for you–” He moans out now, amazed by how tight your cunt is around him. 
Truly, and not even trying to be rude, he genuinely didn’t think you’d feel this fucking strangled against his cock. It’s perfect. He wants to lay claim so fucking bad, and so, he fucks harder, quicker. 
“Don’t ever let another man pay for this pussy.” 
You nod with a strangled moan, struggling to keep your grip on the couch with his weight on you when he leans forward, pressing his chest to your back. 
“I’ll stop showing up.” He threatens. “Wouldn’t want that now, would we?” He continues to talk, hunched over you, fucking you just right while gripping both of your tips in that slutty bra you’re wearing. 
And before you can even answer in a whimper, a cry, or a moan, you feel his cock pulse inside of you. Seemingly fucking you until he’s empty only because you feel it happen. He releases himself inside of you, cumming spurts of thick white ropes against your quivering walls. 
Right then, he grabs you by the hair, pulling you back and against him and holding you so tightly in place. All you can do is sit still for him, cockwarming him through his orgasm as you try to speak. 
“You wouldn’t be able to stay away anyway–” You try to be snide through the pleasure of feeling his cum bubble out of you. “Look at how fast you came.”
He snarls first at your comment, only to chuckle as he orgasm comes to an end. Truly the sounds he made to your comment were so fucking erotic, you almost can’t imagine ever letting another man do this anyway. For some reason, having Jay act all possessive over you is much less offensive anyway, compared to the other men who would probably try this with you. 
You don’t see it as him assuming you’re a woman who would allow just any man to have sex with her for money, anyway. You think he knew he’d be able to pull it off. Though, if that weren’t the case, it wouldn’t be any of his fucking business anyway. 
If anything, you decide that he gets possessive when his cock is fucking, and you feel kinda glad that you were the one he picked. 
Not kinda. Actually, you’re fucking over the moon over it. 
The fact that the man cumming inside of you is the man all of the girls want to dance for makes you feel like you’re the prettiest woman in the world. His money is attractive, but god, the way he fucks is somehow more enticing. You wouldn’t mind doing it again, and again, and again. 
And when he finishes and pulls out of you, all he does is slide your panties back to their rightful place and gives your pussy a little tap, as if to comfort you into keeping his cum inside of you for safe keeping. 
And yeah, he knows you didn't cum but to be fair, as much as he would have loved giving you an orgasm, your pussy felt too good for him to stop. Perhaps you’ll call for him to return the favor? Who knows? (God, he hopes you do.)
By the time he’s sat back on the couch, allowing you to lounge against him as you catch your breath, he’s already pulling out his wallet.
“I don’t carry cash.” He says, pulling out a card. “At least not half a million worth, so, just take this.” 
He hopes you take note of what he’s doing. After all, the club has an ATM, he could always just make a couple of transactions for this. 
You look at him wide-eyed, seeing the black card he holds out to you.  He's actually paying you? You didn’t think he’d really give you half a million, seeing as how much you enjoyed that? Being paid for sex isn’t actually something you do. 
Then again, he’s paying for breaking the rules, not for fucking you. 
“You’re just going to give me your card?” You laugh, raising a brow in confusion. “I could go way over the limit?”
“You wouldn’t.” He shrugs first, and laughs second. “You won’t.”
Taking the card into your hand, it feels much heavier than any credit card you’ve ever held. 
“No, really. You can’t just give me your card.” You laugh, tossing it back at him.
“Says who?” He looks at you seriously this time. “If I don’t see you again, I’ll just report you for fraud.”
He’s being fucking serious? Genuinely? 
“Jay–” You try to scold him, but he doesn't let you.
“Just take the damn card.” He demands, standing to his feet and ruffling his hair with a breath. “Don’t embarrass me more by not taking it.” 
“Embarrass you?” You ask, looking at the card and the way he just leaves it lying against the couch. 
Almost as if, if you don’t take it, someone else will.
“Listen, I don’t normally do this.” He trails off, feeling the post-nut guilt. “The least I can do is hold up my end of the deal.”
“This is your credit card.” You still try to argue with him, turning to watch him walk towards the door. 
“Don’t use it then. Just give it back to me when I see you again.”
You watch him reach for the doorknob. 
“Saturday?” You ask.
“Saturday.”
And then he’s gone, and you’re five hundred thousand dollars richer, somehow.
1K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 2 months
Note
I know Adam is a prick but he's so hot! I can just imagine him fucking his lover before extermination for good luck or some dumb excuse he'd come up with.
He's such an ass, you're right Anon, and very hot.
Pairing: Adam x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, degradation, creampie, breeding kink (duh it's Adam), no actual pregnancy, bragging
Word count: 0.5k
A/N: I should fucking hate this guy but he is so much fun.
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"Get on my dick babe, we don't have a lot of time." Adam pulled you towards him by your ankles, his huge hands fully engulfing them. "Which is your fault by the way. Insisting on coming before I put it in. You're lucky I even wanna fuck your selfish cunt after you got snappy with me."
"You weren't complaining. Funny that." Your remarks would get you into so much trouble. The best kind of trouble.
Adam scoffed, his mask flickering in annoyance, "You should really learn when to shut the fuck up. From now on all I wanna hear from you is my damn name!" He pushed his cock in with no warning or care. A wicked grin spread across his face when he felt your pussy around him, "Tight. Even after you came. No problem, I like them tight for my dick. Gonna spread you open, hell yeah, gonna ruin this hole."
His soft belly pressed against you with every thrust, your legs open wide for his hips to press against yours fully. With every thrust he slammed in balls deep, said balls, slapping against you.
"You gonna drain these balls, huh babe?" One of his hands pressed over your stomach. "I can almost feel my dick slamming into you. What do you say, wanna get pregnant today? Let all the other Exorcists know you're a slut who drools over my fucking dick. God I can just imagine the look on Sera's bitchy face."
"Don't get so full of yourself, sir." Making you pregnant was impossible. As far as you knew at least.
"Nah. That's gonna be you. Say it. Say you want the First fucking Man to put a baby in you. Fucking say it bitch!" His sharp nails dug into your skin, leaving marks. "Be a good slut for me. Don't make me make you make- uh... I'm gonna make you come on my dick! Hell yeah bitch!" He was such a pussydrunk asshole and refused to admit it. His cock was doing enough on that front.
He was close, he just needed to hear those magic words he demanded from you. You glanced at the clock, it was almost time for the Extermination.
"How about you creampie me for good luck?" You appealed to one of Adam's biggest kinks as you pushed your breasts out for him to grab immediately.
His gloved fingers rubbed your nipples, "I think I just might. You're gonna go out and kill some damn demons with my cum dripping down your legs. Let all of Hell know whose bitch you are." Adam pushed his cock in fully with one final roll of his hips, spilling his cum in your pussy. You groaned at the hot feeling, your legs clenching around his wide hips to ground yourself against him. "Told you that you were gonna come on my dick." Adam grinned widely.
"You were right. As always." You patted the bottom of his mask, "Now kindly get off me, I need to wash up before the Extermination begins."
"Wash up? Oh. Oh no, I was being serious when I said you're gonna go out there with your pussy leaking my cum. But you did do okay, so I guess you can wear the full uniform too. It's gonna make it hotter when I rip it off you later." Your pussy fluttered around him, "You want it already. Greedy, greedy. Not as hot without the demon blood though, so make sure you get a lot of them."
"Yes, sir, I'll make sure to do a good job for you." Maybe even get a promotion which would earn you more free time with Adam.
2K notes · View notes
sanakiras · 27 days
Text
HEAVEN
PAIRING — jeon wonwoo x fem!reader
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WORD COUNT — 3.4k
SYNOPSIS — wonwoo has a reputation for being distant, quiet and a bit mysterious. once you get to know him better, though, you come to find the sweet, shy boy underneath the surface.
TAGS — established relationship, explicit sexual content, sub-ish virgin!wonwoo, lowkey corruption kink, i have a sickening crush on this man can you tell, not proofread :)
♪ — the nbhd - heaven,, hank lotion - k-sEx
NOTE — gam3 bo1 wonwoo and ep 1 nana tour wonwoo footage has been making me act UP and i think he’s just so cute <3 screw the hard dom wonu agenda i like to see my men a lil WEAK ‼️😁
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like most people, you felt rather intimidated when you met jeon wonwoo for the first time.
stoic, quiet, intelligent. the strong and silent type. that was the clear image you had of him. and to top it all off, he had the criminally good looks too. a relatively rare kind of man to come across, in your opinion.
though you began to see him in a different light after bonding with him over your shared love for video games. since then, you’ve discovered he can actually be quite talkative, cracking silly puns or laughing at the corniest dad jokes. he’s well-spoken and is actually very open about his feelings, which you found refreshing.
and while developing a friendship with him, you realized how much of a big softie he actually is, which paints quite the contrast compared to his cold and quiet persona he unintentionally seems to put up towards those outside his circle of close friends and family.
it reminds you of the day he asked you out — that sweet, shy smile on his face with rosy cheeks, all flustered and stuttering that you really don’t have to say yes if you don’t feel like it and he’ll push it all to the side like nothing happened if that’s what you’d prefer—
you very easily interrupted him by agreeing to go on a date with him. you’d never seen him smile wider.
wonwoo is cute when he smiles.
and despite his nervousness in the beginning, he still made efforts to be as talkative as he could and show you his interest in you, which you found very sweet. you had a great time with him, and you noticed rather quickly how comfortable you felt around him.
a couple dates later, he asked you if you wanted to be his girlfriend, and you certainly didn’t refuse him.
he’s also turned out to be a gentleman in his own way — subtly saying he could do certain things for you to make your life easier in that monotone voice of his, eyes following you around whenever he’s with you.
the first time he slept over at your place was rather recently after you two made it official. it wasn’t planned, since he was supposed to go back to his place after your date, but due to issues with public transport, you offered him to stay with you instead.
with his face and chest bare, he got into bed next to you. of course you’d imagined what he looked like underneath his big hoodies, but actually having him by your side like this was different.
and wonwoo was putting every bit of effort into playing it cool, even though he was freaking out to be sleeping next to his first girlfriend, forcing himself to look away from your tank top that left very little to the imagination.
yet ironically, it was all he could fantasize about before drifting to sleep.
normally, you’d only let a guy into your bed to do things other than sleeping once you’ve been dating for quite a while. it’s never been something you like to initiate quickly — but wonwoo’s been making you question it. severely.
because he looks so hot when he’s out on the field with his football team, when he’s working out, when he’s gaming on his pc, even when he just fucking smiles at you. the worst thing of it all might be that he doesn’t even seem the slightest bit aware of how attractive he is, nor what effect it has on you.
maybe you should really just tell him you want to jump him like a tree.
but you don’t want to rush him. for all you know, he doesn’t feel like doing that at all with you yet, and for some reason you just didn’t know when or how to ask him about it. later, you thought to yourself.
though you will say you’ve been pushing his buttons a little over the course of time. ever since that night, you’ve subtly been putting yourself on display for him. low-cut shirts and dresses so he can take a peek at your cleavage, accidentally exposing a bit of the fabric of your lingerie, sitting in his lap and rubbing up on him — unintentionally, of course.
it took every ounce of self-control in your body not to smirk when you felt him stiffen up underneath you.
the progress of your relationship has been nothing but positive, really. but you’re aching for him to just touch you at this point.
the day you hit your breaking point isn’t much later. you were trying on some newly bought dresses in front of him, one more revealing than the other — sundresses always work magic on men for whatever reason — and you turned around to find him pathetically trying to hide his hard-on while seated on your bed.
and you just couldn’t find it in you to wait any longer.
so that’s how you ended up sitting in his lap, hands on the back of his neck as you’re grinding against him. his glasses are sitting lop-sided on his nose, black locks messy from your fingers threading through them, lips swollen from your kisses.
the moment he feels your fingers tugging at his hoodie, he feels the need to clear up what he’s been meaning to tell you for a while now.
“i need to tell you something. i’ve—” he cuts himself off when he accidentally lets out a whimper, “i’ve never had sex with anyone.”
he’s still heavily breathing, looking at you in anticipation, and you just can’t escape the buzzing feeling you get from the idea of taking his virginity.
“do you want to?” you ask him, and how could he say no when you’re holding his face like this, looking at him like you’re willing to give him the ride of his life?
“yeah, yeah, i just—i usually don’t last very long,” he sheepishly admits, then internally asking himself why the fuck he would say that, “sorry, i’m nervous.”
but you think it’s endearing. “i don’t mind. we can always go for a second round, right?”
all he can do is nod his head in agreement. “i, i um—i’m not sure what to do next. i’m sorry, this is embarrassing.”
“it’s not, really. it’s not some big performance you need to put up, it’s something fun and exciting and intimate. you can go ahead and relax, and tell me if you like or don’t like what i’m doing.” you reassure him so patiently, which puts him at ease.
jesus — if anything, he’s already a whimpering, stuttering mess and you’re hardly even touching him.
so you move your hand down into his boxers, fingers wrapping around him to test the waters. he gasps in surprise once he feels you touching him, heat rushing to his cheeks.
“just let me take care of you, ‘kay? we can stop anytime.” you tell him, and he trusts you enough to let you go on.
you press another kiss to his lips before moving backwards, fingers taking a hold of the waistband of both his sweatpants and boxers.
the cold on his skin makes him shiver, but he’s hardly given the time to feel exposed in front of you when you’ve already got your hands on him, pleasantly surprised by his size.
“you’re so big, wonu.” you tell him in a sweet voice, feeling like you’re about to drool at the sight of him.
“didn’t think i was big.” he mumbles more to himself than to you, staring at the ceiling as he tries to steady his breathing.
you chuckle a little as you watch him. “you are. gonna have to work for it to make you fit into me.” the words make his eyes widen, images of you getting fucked by him flashing through his mind.
“fuck, really?”
“mhm. but you’ll do that for me, won’t you?”
wonwoo is absolutely crumbling underneath you here. the effect that your mere words have on him should be studied, because shit, he’s never felt this hot before. why is it so hot in here? is he sweating already? “yeah, i’ll—i’ll do anything you want me to.”
he’s such a sweetheart that it makes you want to ruin him.
for the sake of both his and your own pleasure, you decide not to tease any longer and touch his cock with your lips. he lets out a moan of surprise, the feeling being unfamiliar to him, but holy shit — this has got to be what heaven feels like.
his chest heaves as he tries to control his breathing once more, focusing on keeping his breathing by his stomach. your tongue darts out to lick his cock, and he whimpers, which makes you triumphantly smile a little.
you’re genuinely curious to see how long he can last, so you catch him by surprise by taking him into your mouth as far as possible, and his hand subconscously flies to the back of your head, and he doesn’t know whether he wants to push your head down or pull it back. he releases a choked moan, spurring you on to keep him lodged in your throat despite his efforts to pull you off him.
“fuck—please don’t make me cum already, baby, please—” he begs, loving the feeling of your mouth on him like that — he just doesn’t want to hit his peak that fast.
unfortunately for him, you do.
with your mouth currently no longer on him, you gently jerk him off instead, his hips automatically bucking into your grip. "what if i want you to?"
“you’ve barely—barely touched me. ‘s embarrassing.” he chokes out. the heat is still rushing to his cheeks. his hands are shaking.
of course he’s nervous. you’re his first time, his first girlfriend, it’s all new to him. he’s clearly afraid you might be turned off by him being all flustered like this.
so you make it your mission to show him it’s very much the opposite.
discarding your dress, you’re left in your tank top and underwear, nipples poking through the thin, white fabric. you move to tilt his face up with your glossy, acrylic nail, gently holding his chin, your face mere inches away from his.
“do you have any idea how wet i am? just from seeing you like this?” you ask, pulling his one hand down so he can feel the dampness of your panties. “bet you could slip right in.”
a broken whimper slips out of his mouth when he feels it. he didn’t know you were this turned on.
you push his head and upper body back against the pillows, making him lie down fully, and you’re just so eager to suck the life out of him.
the feeling of your warm mouth and tongue around him makes him experience a sensation he didn’t think was possible. christ, this must be what heaven feels like.
“oh my god—you’re so fucking good.” he’s arching his back with his eyes tightly shut from the pleasure you’re giving him. it’s only when you take him as far in your throat as possible that the first guttural groan is ripped from the depths of his chest. it’s a low, sexy sound that makes you clench around nothing.
he’s burning hot under you, causing his glasses to fog up a little. he carelessly throws the pair onto his nightstand, the grip on the back of your head becoming harsher and less gentle than before, because he’s that fucking close now.
it’s cute seeing wonwoo not knowing what to do with himself. keeping your mouth on his cock, gripping the sheets, throwing his head back before he casts his eyes back down to watch you suck him off — it’s like he’s being overstimulated in the best way possible.
it’s enough for you to sense he’s close, which makes you take your mouth off him to jerk him off instead, all so you can watch him chase his release. “that’s it, wonu, give it to me.”
there’s a sudden shiver that runs from his back and core all the way down to his toes. he tenses up, unintentionally grabbing your wrist to stop your movements as he trembles and his body gives in to his orgasm.
once he’s coming down from his high, he looks at you like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.
“that was… holy shit.” he laughs a little to himself, eliciting a chuckle from you.
“i’m that good, huh?”
“yeah.”
“wanna keep going?”
“mhm.”
“okay. take off your shirt.”
wonwoo blinks for a moment. he practically forgot he was still wearing one, so he sits up and gets rid of the black shirt, throwing it beside your bed, now completely bare before you.
if he’s being honest, you did ease his nerves by letting him have his first orgasm already. the strange sense of shame he previously felt has disappeared into the air, with only nervous excitement left.
he feels good.
especially when he watches you move to sit on your knees on the bed, removing the tank top and slipping out of your underwear.
his eyes are glued to your naked body, hardly able to look away — that is, until you sit down in his lap, your dripping heat touching his hardening dick, making him twitch under you.
“where do you keep your condoms?”
the question forces him out of his constant staring at your body. “uh—nightstand.” he mutters, taking the initiative to reach and get it himself.
thankfully, he manages to get it on himself quickly. you urge him to lie back down again while you position yourself above him, shamelessly staring at his strong chest and broad shoulders.
his mouth is agape when you sink down on him, and fuck, he’s in so deep.
the stretch burns, especially because you didn’t get yourself ready, but you’re so dripping wet to the point you don’t care — you need him in you.
wonwoo notices you struggle despite your arousal. “you don’t have to take me all the way if it hurts.”
you hum, a half-smirk creeping onto your face. “but it hurts so good. so i will.”
once he’s sheathed fully inside you, he’s subconsciously holding his breath. the anticipation for you to move is killing him. the sensitivity of his dick makes him whimper, his lashes fluttering as his teeth sink into his lower lip in a failed attempt to hold it together.
you decide to tease him a little by clenching down on him. his hands fly to your hips, gripping the skin harder than intended from the sudden feeling, his breathing becoming erratic again. “hah—don’t do that, please, i don’t wanna cum yet baby—please.”
“why? you close?” you ask him with an innocent face, knowing damn well what you’re doing to him.
“yeah. need you so bad.” he answers truthfully, his ego and pride nowhere to be found anymore. whether he sounds pathetic or not, he doesn’t give a shit. all he knows is that you’re sitting on top of him and he needs you to make him feel what he’s been desperate to feel for so damn long.
so you tilt your head. “‘s okay, wonu. i’ll give it to you.”
he can hardly even make out a response before you lift your hips and proceed to sink back down on him, your hands on his chest. a filthy moan rolls past his lips — you think it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard in your damn life.
then you begin to roll your hips, and he sucks through his teeth from the feeling, a mix of overstimulation and pleasure rushing through him. once you let out your first dragged-out moan, his fingers twitch for a moment, digging deeper into your skin.
“have you thought about this? fucking me?”
despite the position he’s in right now, he still feels his face heat up when you ask him dirty things like that, even more so when he answers them.
“yeah, i did.”
“when? tell me. i wanna hear it.” you tell him, and when you’re so gorgeously riding him like this, how could he not oblige?
wonwoo swallows, stuttering as he focuses on recalling the memories while admiring you and the feeling you’re letting him experience. “when i saw you wearing that short skirt on our second date, and—and that time you came to watch me at the football game. couple of my teammates were drooling over you. so was i.”
his words turn you on, because you doubted whether you were sensing actual jealousy from him that night, and this confirms it.
“were you?” you ask, running your nails down his stomach. “what’d you do about it?”
he bites his lip. “i’ll sound like a pervert if i answer that.”
teasing him again, you push yourself down on him almost harshly, relishing in the way he gasps under you. wonwoo is wonderfully responsive in bed, and you’re having a fucking field trip with it.
“yeah? try me.”
“i touched myself after getting home, and i... thought about you. in that skirt.”
“i’ll wear it for you next time.” you smile, watching him close his eyes in pleasure when you leave your marks on his chest, putting a few hickeys on his neck and collarbone on purpose. “i touched myself thinking of you, too.”
that makes him twitch inside you, which is exactly what you wanted.
his hands dip to the curve of your ass, following your movement. “really?”
“mhm. i thought you looked so sexy in your football attire. you were wearing that tight compression shirt that you always wear when you go to the gym too — drove me nuts, wonu.” you confess, which seems to work as a brief shot of adrenaline for him.
he moves to sit up, bringing your bodies closer together by looping his arms around your waist, the slight change in position making you moan.
the drag of his cock inside you is slowly making you go insane. your face is hot and you’re dripping wet for him, sucking him in to the point you feel like you need to claw at the walls.
“god, feels so good.” he mutters, his mouth finding your breasts before he begins to suck on the skin like a man starved.
once he notices you’re both getting closer, but you’re getting tired from your position on top, he takes a breath and flips you over, now hovering above you.
burying his face in the crook of your neck, he holds onto your body and fucks you. his thrusts are harder than he intends them to, the control over his body lost in his relentless drive to make you both feel good.
he’s panting hard, doing everything in his power to make you cum first this time while indulging in his own pleasure as well. “am i doing good for my first time? does it feel good?”
god, you can only half-catch the words with the way he’s fucking you. it’s almost funny — such a sweetheart he is, asking you if he’s doing well while simultaneously fucking you into oblivion.
“you’re so good, wonu. so good—‘m so close.” you cry out, manicured nails digging into his back, making him groan.
“wanna feel you cum around me so bad.” the words almost sound like a plea, like he’s begging you for it.
then he kisses your neck, and he hits the perfect spot inside you over and over, and it’s enough to make you clench so hard around him that he can’t hold it any longer. your orgasm makes your legs shake, and he fucks you right through it, making you wonder why the hell it took the universe so long to let him into your life.
he moans and whines and shakes when he hits his climax, twitching inside you, filling up the condom. with heavy breaths, he lets his body rest on top of you, his head by your collarbone, a comfortable silence emerging as your heartbeats slow and breathing steadies.
surprisingly, it’s him who speaks up first.
“i’m gonna need a while for my legs to start working again.” he chuckles breathily, covering his face a little when he notices you poking fun at him.
“aw, baby, did i drain you that much?”
“i genuinely can’t even feel my limbs.”
you laugh at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and he smiles so sweetly — as if he didn’t just fuck the living daylights out of you. “wanna go again?”
he blushes a bit, tilting his head as if he has to think about it, before sheepishly giving you his answer.
“... yeah.”
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thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
819 notes · View notes
viennakarma · 17 days
Text
My dearest friend and enemy (2)
PART 2 | Fernando Alonso x Reader
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Summary: You and Fernando always dreamed of the day you'd get into Formula 1. Unfortunately, the competition, the pride and the stubborness, get in the way of a beautiful friendship.
Word count: 7.1k
Tags: female!reader, driver reader, coming of age, ups and downs of a friendship, brocedes coded, very very angsty, cursing, anger, fights, overuse of flavio briatore as a plot device, lots of low blows, sprinkles of romance, kissing, making out, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: Someone requested this, with this very detailed request, and it has consumed my every thought for the past week or two. I had to tweak some things from the request here and there, hope it's ok. It's heavily inspired by brocedes. (There is a lot of info that is wrong or inaccurate, I did this on purpose to fit my narrative, if you catch them, please ignore)
I was wondering doing a bonus part about Fernando POV throughout everything (to show he was ALSO miserable), but I don't know if i have the time and energy for it. Let me know if you guys would be interested in it and I'll do it in headcanons/topics.
I'm sorry if it feels rushed, this was taking way too long and I just wanted to follow my heart. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
Find me on Twitter!
PART 1 | FERNANDO'S HEADCANONS
You were moping and crying in the living room when the phone started ringing. Looking at the little screen that showed the number that was calling, you knew it was Fernando. You had memorized his number at some point in your lifetime. Your parents weren’t home, so you hesitated. You took so long that his call went to voicemail.
“I know you’re there,” he said, voice sounding tired, low and inpatient, “please pick up the-”
You pulled the phone cable, unplugging the call and silencing him. Wiping your tears, you stared at the unplugged phone on the little side table for what felt like hours, until your parents returned from work, when you got up to plug the phone back and pretend like you didn’t spend the whole day mourning a friendship you always thought would last forever.
After two days ignoring all calls, even Flavio’s, you decided that you’d shield yourself from now on, and you wouldn’t give Fernando any more ammo to hurt you. You met with Flavio at the next race, face heavy with makeup to cover up the sleepless nights you had gone through. You put your bag down and stared at Flavio across the table.
“Good morning. Let’s go back to work,” you said, gently pulling the stack of papers from his grasp. He called your name in that tone, of someone wanting a heart to heart.
“We should talk about the f-” He started but you cut him off.
“No, I don’t want to talk about that,” you said.
“I talked to Fernando and he-”
“I said, I don’t want to talk about it. He’s dead to me.” You repeated slowly, finally looking up at him. Flavio must’ve seen something in your eyes because he let the topic go.
You didn’t see Fernando for two more days, and when the weekend officially started, you avoided him like the plague. Even when you two were in the same place with other drivers, you’d ignore his existence for the most part. Whenever you were in a little circle chatting with other drivers and he arrived, you’d leave immediately. Press conference, you convinced Jenson to switch places with you so you could be as far from Fernando as possible. Even with team debriefs, with Flavio trying to make you talk to Fernando, you refused.
The rest of the season was insane, during team meetings and debriefs you were cold and barely talked to him. He didn’t try to talk to you either, and the silent distance only grew.
You were head to head in a race, you were P2 and Fernando P3 right behind you.
“Switch with Fernando,” your engineer said on the radio.
“He won’t fucking pass me,” you said into the radio, holding your position and pace. He was less than a second behind, and you refused to let him pass.
“I repeat, let him pass,” That was Flavio.
“If he manages to overtake me, he can go.”
He didn’t. You knew you had more pace, but still he insisted, and through the mirrors, you could see him closing in behind you. He tried to overtake but you pushed the car fast, and when he couldn’t anymore, he turned into you, touching his front right tyre to your rear left tyre. You were too fast. The mere touch of his tyre bursted yours. You couldn’t even get angry as you lost control of the car in a millisecond, the speed making your car fly into the air as it hit the gravel. With your car overturning a few times in the air, you watched your sight going ground, sky, ground, sky, ground, sky.
Then you blacked out.
When you woke up, you were on a stretcher being placed carefully inside the ambulance, you tried to get up, dizzy and someone handed you a bag where you threw up inside.
You had an insane headache as they took you to the medical center. Apparently, everything else was alright as you checked your own body for any injuries or problems. The doctor checked you but still made you through a round of tests and injected saline solution diluted with pain medicine in an IV drip. They also decided you’d stay overnight to make sure nothing was wrong. 
Your dad, who was watching from the garage, was the first to find you in the medical center, visibly worried and crying. He hugged you for a whole minute, before taking a step back and touching your face to make sure you were really alright.
“I’m ok, Papá. Just passed out when the car was spinning in the air,” You smiled softly, wanting to dissipate his worry.
“When you didn’t answer the radio-” He choked back tears.
“It’s ok, I’m ok now.”
“What are you feeling, darling?” He pressed, holding your hands to look for injuries in your arms.
“I’m all in one piece, Papá. Just a little sore, but that’s normal whenever a racing driver crashes,” you let him know, and he nodded.
“Let me just call your mother. She was so worried she wanted to get into the first flight here,” He told you.
“Tell her I’m alright and I love her,” you whispered and he nodded, going outside.
You sighed as you were left alone, trying to find a comfortable position where you didn’t have to move too much, since your whole body felt like it had been run over by a truck. The door opened and you thought it was Flavio, but you were faced with Fernando, still sweaty and in his overalls. He looked disheveled, but he was full of worry, even his eyes looked a little misty as he stood there a few meters from you.
But you couldn’t look past the anger when the memory of him diving into your car came back. He had gambled with your life, out of pettiness, out of envy, he couldn’t pass you, so he decided the next best thing was to take you out, not even caring about the danger he was putting you through.
“Leave.” You said, with gritted teeth.
“Please,” he begged with his voice softer than you had heard for almost a year, “let me just-”
“Leave! You could’ve gotten me killed, Fernando. Get out!” You said, louder. “Do you have any idea that you could have ruined my life in a moment of anger?! That you could have gotten me seriously injured or worse?! I would have never done that to you!” You pressed your index finger to the nurse button repeatedly, and a few seconds later, a nurse came in, “Ma’am can you escort him out please?”
You could see in his eyes that he was hurt by your words, but in that moment, all you felt was blind rage, for what he did the last time you spoke and because he crashed into you on purpose. You didn’t want to hear any excuses now that he realized he put your life in danger just because his ego couldn’t take a hit.
The next day, after you were discharged, you traveled for a meeting with Flavio at Renault’s headquarters. He met you alone in the meeting room, talking to you about the accident, and after making sure you were physically fine, he went off.
“What you did yesterday was reckless and you went against express orders from the team and from me. This is not happening again, or you will be risking your seat at Renault,” He said, his voice never leaving room for debate, you swallowed and nodded, “When the team orders you to do something, you do. No questioning, and no going against it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Fernando was really worried about you yes-”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” You cut Flavio off.
“You two are best friends, it’s really sad to see you lose all that because of Formula 1” Flavio said, gently.
“He put my life at risk, Flavio. This is not something a friend would do,” you stood up, walking away but you stopped by the door, “Kinda curious how motorsports, the very thing that brought us together, is the same that tore us apart.”
Then you went to meet the engineers for the next race strategies. 
That night as you laid down at home, you thought that you’d never compete with Fernando solely because he was Flavio’s favorite. If it ever came to Flavio to decide whether you would win or Fernando would win, he’d always pick Fernando. You could’ve been fighting for the championship this year, he had promised you, instead you were being used as a step in Fernando’s path of glory, when you could be fairly racing him for the championship. You’d always come second to him there. That was also the moment you stopped seeing Flavio as a friend, and confined him back to a position of Team Principal.
You reread the Sauber proposal that came to you that year to start racing for them the next season, tempted to just go and make your name somewhere else. Somewhere where you’d be put first.
But deep down, a sense of indebtedness had rooted into your heart ever since the day Fernando told you the truth. You had to pay Flavio back for his trust and for his money, and the only way you thought you could do it was by becoming world champion under his team.
There was still a little kid inside you, a little kid who aspired to prove Fernando wrong, to become a champion and prove to yourself you’re more than him. More than who he wanted you to be, more than a loser.
You turned down the offer from Sauber.
The rest of the season you went almost robotically. You still gave your all every race, but your mood would always damper when you had to follow team orders.
“Ask if me and Fernando can switch, I’m faster!” You said on the radio. You kept driving, Fernando a little less than two seconds in front of you, but you were getting closer and would catch up to him in two laps.
“Negative, protect his position.”
“There’s a McLaren right behind me! They’ll pass us both!”
“Negative, team orders.”
You swallowed and held your position, trying to maintain your P2 and Fernando P1. But when the McLaren got close to you, they managed to pass you after a brief battle, going for Fernando a couple of laps later.
Later, you stood on the podium, looking ahead knowing that P3 could’ve been a P1 if they had let you fight for it. You didn’t look at Fernando on the other side of the podium, you just stood there, eyes watery. You pretended to take part throwing champagne for a few seconds, forcing a smile knowing that it would look bad not to.
The post race interviews were torture, and you wanted to go home and vent to your parents.
“How has it been to manage your friendship with Fernando outside the track?” A reporter asked, and your smile disappeared from your face.
“We were never really friends,” you shrugged, annoyed, you added “Are there any questions about racing instead of my personal life?” The reporter was silent, visibly taken aback by your responses, you had rarely been hostile toward a journalist before, you knew he would have a field day with just those replies, especially when your PR manager gave you a hard stare, “No? Thank you, see you around.”
You finished P2 in the race Fernando became champion for the second time. When you got out of the car, you watched as Flavio and Fernando hugged, jumping from the ground and celebrating. The number one and your team principal. After the podium ceremony, you didn’t bother to stay to spray champagne, just leaving and going straight out.
You got a couple more proposals from other teams, and you were tempted, until Flavio told you Fernando was leaving for McLaren the next year and offered you an extension. You took it under the condition to become the number one driver now that Fernando was out of the picture.
A part of you mourned the death of the dream, the one you had at fourteen to become teammates with your best friend. So many things had happened in between everything, now you would miss it. Only the good, not the bad and ugly. You wish you could go back in time, redo everything, and never allow yourself to lose your best friend on the way.
The next year you ended up striking an unexpected friendship with Jenson Button, Nico Rosberg and eventually the two rookies Lewis and Sebastian, who had been very vocal about being fans of yours.
You didn’t go back to talking with Fernando. You didn’t try and he didn’t either. It felt like the bridges were too far burned to recover.
One day as you walked out of the garage, you saw Fernando with a girl on the opposite side. She was clinging to his side, whispering. You knew he had his fair share of fun with grid girls but he never invited them to watch the race from his garage. You wondered if he was dating again, after a couple of years being nothing more than a player. You also wonder why it made a pang of pain flare through your chest.
You don’t linger too much. He had no reason to tell you. You weren’t even friends anymore.
You moved on, as much as you could. And eventually, you met Kaka, or Ricardo, as you preferred calling him. He was a footballer, a big name in the sport, playing for a big team in Italy. You actually met him at a gala party, the both of you being silly introverts, bumping into each other when trying to find a way out. You two ended up talking for hours on the balcony, watching the city lights.
He reminded you of Nano before Formula 1.
And you actually wanted to smash your own head against the handrail as you thought that.
After exchanging numbers and calling a couple of times, you managed to convince Ricardo to come to a Grand Prix. His presence was calm, funny without being mean, and so gentle. It was actually the calm between the storm your life and job was.
You were pacing around outside the motorhomes to try and see if he had arrived yet, since the last you had talked to him was when he was on his way. While waiting, your eyes found Fernando’s on the opposite side in front of McLaren, he was sitting down with his girlfriend telling him something. You stared at him for a whole minute, and for a brief moment, the anger left his eyes for something softer, something like-
“Hi, minha linda!” Ricardo showed up out of nowhere, and he hugged you so tight he actually swiped you off your feet.
Once the surprise passed, you hugged him back, your fingers finding their way through his hair. And he laughed, spinning you before putting you down. You talked for a bit, your face lit up as he told you about his day.
Your eyes unconsciously turned to Fernando, because you could feel that he had been staring at you for as long as Ricardo was there. His face was back to anger.
“You want me to give you the grand tour?” You offered, just so you could escape the weight of Fernando’s glare.
You took Ricardo by the hand and showed him all around, even introducing him to part of your team. After that race when you placed third, Ricardo invited you to a date, the first official one. After a couple of months and a few kisses, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You only hesitated for a second before smiling and squealing a yes.
Being the main driver of your team allowed you to live an entirely different season as a racer. You didn’t want to be arrogant, but you had it in the bag. You had the best car, the best engines, and just the perfect amount of boldness. Add insane strategies, and you were unstoppable.
Despite Fernando being your close rival on track, he was way too busy beefing with Lewis, his surprisingly great rookie teammate.
During summer break that year, you were on a trip to Brazil with Ricardo, but still, the night of July 29th, you got up at two a.m., slowly went to the fridge, where you got an ice cream pint. With a spoon, you sat on the handrail in the balcony, and watched the waves breaking on the beach a few meters away.
It was weird keeping the ice cream tradition alone, but you supposed it was even weirder not keeping the tradition. Staring at the stars, you wondered if Fernando had any ice cream to celebrate his birthday that day.
“Hi,” you heard Ricardo behind you, his hands sneaking around your middle and he hugged you from behind, laying his head against your shoulder, “everything ok?”
“Yeah, just wanted a little treat,” you mumbled, closing the lid on the ice cream, because a selfish part of you didn’t want to share the tradition with anyone other than Fernando. It was silly and stupid, and still… you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You put the ice cream back in the freezer and smiled at Ricardo as he pulled you into his arms and carried you back to bed.
You came back from summer break with a renewed sense of focus. Deep down you knew that was your season. Your season to become world champion, and nothing was going to get in the way of that. As you won the first two races after summer, you became first in the standings, this sense of purpose being the one thing motivating you every weekend to give your best.
It was Interlagos that year when you needed only a podium to become World Champion, pretty much the same as Fernando two years before. The race was tough, and it felt like Fernando was out to get you, especially in a moment right in the middle of the race, when you were behind him in P3 and he tried to brake test you again, but this time you were quick to react, avoiding his rear and using his own dirty trick against him, turning sharply to overtake him from outer side, moving past him fast enough to gain some precious couple of seconds.
After that, you managed to smoothly overtake the P1 with a carefully planned pit stop that allowed you to come out first. Later on, you saw a crash, nothing too bad, but you found out it was Fernando and Webber.
“Are they ok?” You asked via radio to your engineer.
“Yes, they are already back on the pitlane.”
You sighed and focused back to your race, keeping your P1 safe, and going smoothly to take the checkered flag.
“Congratulations, Y/N! You’re a Formula One World Champion!”
You felt the tears coming down and dampening your balaclava, as you took one last lap to parc ferme, waving at the crowd that went insane.
It was like a huge weight was lifted from your chest. Because you were now world champion. You were there, and you deserved to be there, among the best. You didn’t need to prove yourself anymore, and you had finally paid Flavio back.
You jumped out of the car straight into your team, jumping with them, and Flavio ran up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. Jenson also found you and hugged you firmly, patting your back and Nico also hugged you, both of them were on the podium with you.
As you looked down from the podium, with a watery, emotional smile, you saw your dad crying like a baby and clapping his hands. Unconsciously, your eyes looked for Fernando, silly hoping it mattered something to him, that at least in the name of your former friendship, he would be there, but he was nowhere to be seen, and you felt like that was another nail in the coffin of your friendship.
Deciding to forget it, you drank champagne straight from the bottle, laughing as both Nico and Jenson paired up to drown you in champagne, looking happy for you.
After talking to your mom on the phone, you stood up, taking your bag and going out to look for your dad. You didn’t make it very far, as you came out in the hallway, you found Fernando, leaning against the wall. You paused, looking up to him while your heartbeat went up.
“I’m happy for you,” he whispered. And you wanted to believe it really badly, but thinking about him brake testing you during the race, trying to take you out, made you roll your eyes at him.
“Sure, you are,” you said sarcastically. He shook his head and clicked his tongue, like he was disappointed you didn’t believe him, “my debt is over now.”
“What?” He frowned, confused.
“I just paid Flavio for his investment,” you explained, “I’m not just here because you asked him to support me, I’m a damn great driver. I’m here because I deserve it, not because you took me out of pity.”
Fernando stared at you completely shocked at your words, something painful stabbing at his chest. He never thought you’d think like that over disgusting words he said in a moment of anger. Words that never meant anything to him, that he didn’t even believe in himself. The hurt in your eyes was the same from the day he said the words, when you cried looking into his eyes and telling him he was dead to you.
You walked past him and away. He wanted to shout that he never meant those words, that you were so much more, so much better. But you just left. Fernando followed you outside, trying to catch you and explain himself, maybe fix things between you, making peace.
But as he got outside, he paused, seeing you jumping in your boyfriend’s arms, laughing at something he whispered to you. Fernando swallowed, closing his fist and jealousy burned through his limbs, with such force that it felt like a fever.
Right after the Brazilian Grand Prix, Ferrari got in touch with you, offering a two year contract to become teammates with Kimi Raikkonen and drive for what was one of, if not the most classic team in Formula 1. After negotiations, it was a no brainer. You didn’t owe Renault anything any more. And that’s what propelled you to meet with Flavio that winter break in a cafeteria in Monaco. When you had called, he said he wanted to talk to you about something, which was convenient.
After pleasantries and small talk, you were ready to start, but Flavio cut you off without noticing.
“I have to tell you something,” he started, carefully, “Fernando is coming back to Renault next year.”
You froze for a second, not wanting to think too much about the implications of that. The fact that Flavio was willing to force you and Fernando to be teammates again even after the catastrophic ending you had before. Sighing, you covered your face for a second.
“I know you have reservations, but I’ve talked with Fernando and he’s willing to-”
“I’m going to Ferrari.”
And Flavio understood, after talking for a while. He knew Ferrari was most drivers' ultimate dream, and you weren’t immune to that either. Unfortunately for you, Fernando released the news he was going back to Renault a week before Ferrari announced you, and the media had a field day with that, tabloids and media outlets doing numbers of articles about you avoiding being teammates with Fernando again, since he was coming back and you were conveniently leaving almost at the same time.
Your races with Fernando kept being dangerous, one always trying to one up the other, dangerous moves and overtakes, close calls of crashing into each other, and more and more jabs publicly. The attacks at each other never stopped, and the media seemed to enjoy it, feeding into it ever so often.
One occasion, you were going for a win, and the only thing between you and that damn P1 was Fernando Alonso. So you kept your P2, biding your time as you tried to close the gap, leaving your chance at overtaking for the last few laps. When a fast turn came, you advanced, overtaking him, Fernando tried to defend his position, but you were getting the lead, and both of you were in high speed. Someone had to back out, otherwise you two would crash. But you were feeding off of anger and hurt, and you didn’t back down well into the turn, but suddenly, Fernando slowed down, giving up defending. You took the P1 and after a few laps, the checkered flag. You knew on the podium that Fernando was seething, his face didn’t hide that. Later, at an interview, someone brought up the dirty move.
“So, a very dangerous move at turn 2 during lap 47, no?” The reporter asked, trying to get a reaction out of you.
“I thought it was a pretty common battle, no?” You said, a condescending tone imitating him.
“Well, it could’ve caused you both to crash.”
“I took a risk, either I would pass and win, or we would both crash and DNF. Alonso was wise and went for the safest option.” I gave the reporter a fake smile.
You knew that answer would piss Fernando off, and a part of you knew he deserved it. Sometimes you acted on pure rage and pettiness, feral and way more aggressive against Fernando on track than you really needed to be. But he just pissed you off. Walking around with his model girlfriend, his attacks at your racing abilities, his pretty eyes that always seemed to find yours at the most inconvenient times.
Then, the race weekend would end, and everything that was left was shame. Your burning shame every time your mom’s eyes shone when she asked about Fernando, hoping you two would have made peace. You, looking away from her face every time you told her you knew nothing about Alonso because you didn’t want to see the disappointment in her eyes.
Later that year, after your two year anniversary with Ricardo, you accidentally found a ring box in his suitcase. A proposal ring, a beautiful big diamond ring, probably worth a small fortune. And you tried to feel happy about it, but you could only find dread in your heart. Despite loving Ricardo, you knew you didn’t love him as much as you could. And certainly not as much as she loved you. You didn’t love him as much as you loved-
Closing your eyes, you also closed your heart, and after that just like the coward you were, you broke up with Ricardo the kindest way you could. He was confused, because your relationship was tranquil, without many problems. It broke your heart to break his heart, but you couldn’t lead him on, you knew Ricardo was husband material, and the earlier you let him go, the earlier he would find his true happiness.
Ultimately, you decided to only pursue love after your Formula One career. Having a bit of fun here and there, and a couple of casual relationships even with other drivers, but nothing serious or public. When you found out Fernando was single again, a flicker of hope sparked in your chest, but when you saw him go back to his playboy ways… It died down.
Sometimes you would dream of a different life, of one you never lost your best friend… or even better, one that you never had to suppress the love you felt for him. And sometimes it felt too much, like all this love was just filling up your hollow heart, filling up until it overflowed, until you felt like you were drowning in it, because there was nowhere for this love to go. And you wondered, what do I do with this love, there's no one to give it to, there's no recipient to put it. So you would just ground your teeth and bear it, holding onto anger because that much love, that much longing did nothing but cause you pain.
Every time someone mentioned him outside race weeks, you felt ashamed.
Despite being in a top team like Ferrari, you’d only get a few wins, and some podiums here and there, so it wasn’t like you didn’t achieve anything. But you were a woman so it was obviously not enough, and the media started questioning your career and your place in Formula One.
After two years of you driving for Ferrari, Domenicalli, your team principal, sat you down to let you know Fernando Alonso would be joining the team the next year, and you bit the inside of your cheek, considering just retiring. The criticism was getting to you, and the perspective of living hell with Fernando as your teammate was a broken heart all over again.
When an opportunity arose to drive for Red Bull Racing, with a two year contract, you didn’t think twice before accepting. It would be your chance to turn the tide in your career.
It sent the motorsport world into a frenzy when your new team announced you and a week later Ferrari announced Fernando as their future driver. The same narrative of you running away from him was passed ahead. And of course, it got to the paddock. Most drivers that were close to you actually congratulated you, but of course, nothing was ever good for Fernando. And despite not fully talking to him, he was always willing to throw a mean comment at you any given day.
“And people said you’re washed” Fernando said right after the news broke, the second to last race of that season, his voice dripping with venom. You knew it was a backhanded compliment, he always did that when he wanted to get a rise out of you. He smirked, waiting for your feral clapback, as you always had one on the tip of your tongue.
But when he looked back at you, your face was stony, and you were looking ahead with your chin raised. You didn’t even look at Fernando, nor answered his taunting. You pretended he wasn’t there but he noticed your eyes were misty.
That had been a low blow, even for him. He didn’t know shit about your feelings regarding your career, but he knew exactly how the world had been treating it, and it made you burn with shame that he could add insult to injury this easily. You wondered why he would say something like that if, just like you, it had been years since the last time he was champion of the world. Two years pushing yourself to the maximum so you could achieve your second championship.
Fernando had been your best friend for so long, he knew exactly what buttons to push when he wanted to hurt you.
When someone else arrived, greeting you, you cleared your throat briefly before answering and plastering a smile that never reached your eyes.
“Are you running away from me?” Fernando cornered you later that same day.
“What?” You paused.
“I went back to Renault and you left, now I’m going to Ferrari and you’re leaving,” he shrugged. You scoffed.
“I’m not sure if you know, but my life doesn’t revolve around you, Fernando.”
“Well, that’s a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”
“What do you want? Why are you here?”
Fernando paused for a second, his eyes searching yours, he looked vulnerable, open like he hadn’t been in so long. He looked every bit your best friend from years before.
“I miss you, I-” He started, then cleared his throat.
“I miss the old you,” You swallowed a whole bunch of your pride just to be able to say those words.
“Things are different now…” Fernando started, his eyes full of hoping, of longing, “We could- maybe we could-”
“Fernando, we’re too far gone, what we said- what we did…” You muttered, feeling a lump in your throat, “how do one come back from that?”
“We could restart. Try again-”
“You lost me forever that day, Fernando.” You muttered, the tears holding on to your eyelashes. You didn’t need to specify the day, he knew, he had seen in your eyes the moment he lost you, “I spent so long hearing your voice in my head, telling me I wasn’t good enough, I shouldn’t be here, and I- I hated you that day. And I had to hold onto this hate, because the alternative was overwhelming sadness.”
There was a numbing silence for a couple of minutes, as you stared down at your own feet, trying to stop all the feelings you spent years carefully locking away from breaking free. So much had happened, you believed you and Fernando were too far to recover now.
“I’m a woman here, the first and only woman in so long, and the whole world was against me. You have no idea how it felt that my best friend, the person I trusted the most, was also against me,” You shook your head, feeling the tears drop.
“I’m sorry, Nena… I’ve never- I’ve never meant any of that.” He muttered, and you didn’t look at him to see if he was being genuine. You had formed walls around your heart to protect yourself from heartbreak, and you now had a hard time believing him.
“There are some things… that are not meant to be.” You didn’t look back at Fernando after you said that, choosing to walk away with this broken heart feeling ever present.
It was hard to keep going everyday. You had always faced backlash for being a woman in Formula 1, and you were used to it. But the media took a turn over the next few years. When you didn’t win more championships, when years passed and you were still there, along with other champions and future champions. They started to call you old, washed, telling you to retire and placing bets on when you’d lose your seat. It was baffling because it had been six years since your championship, but it had been seven years since Fernando’s, but still, you were the only one whose spot was questioned all the time. It was unfair, and whenever they came up to you talking about it, you’d ask them if they’d ask the same to older drivers or other champions. They would leave you alone for a week and then come back stronger, ready to throw your whole career under the bus.
Finally, you got another chance at the championship in 2013, after an unbelievable start of the season with five consecutive wins. That had put you first in the standings for the championship, and from there on, your team molded the season around you. Smooth sailing through the season, you became world champion in Suzuka, way too far ahead in the championship to anyone be able to catch up to you.
When you stood on the podium that night, you cried happy tears. You had once again proved wrong years of demerit from the world. As you looked down to search for your family, your eyes found Fernando right beside them, a proud, emotional look on his face as he kept a hand over his heart, listening to your national anthem.
He nodded at you with a small smile, and a part of you healed a little bit.
You enjoyed a couple of days of pure bliss after becoming world champion. Parties, celebrations and trips, they were all you did for the next few weeks.
When the FIA Prize Giving ceremony came, you had another bombshell to drop at the world. You were the most stunning you ever felt that year when you arrived at the ceremony, in a beautiful dark blue dress with little crystals all over the bodice, a beautiful hairstyle and even more beautiful makeup. Never in your entire career in Formula 1, you had felt so fulfilled, so happy.
Hearing your name being called as the winner, the number one, was different this time, and had much more weight, and it made your heart burst with happiness. As you walked up the stairs to the stage, receiving your trophy, you stopped by the mic.
“Thank you so much. I’d like to thank my family for supporting me from the beginning, my team for making the perfect season, and the perfect car for me to be able to achieve this. I’d like to thank all my teammates that, in one way or another, taught me some valuable lessons as a racer. Thanks to Flavio for taking a chance on my career when probably no one else would.” You said, with a smile. You took a good look around, all the people in this sport who made Formula 1 the most important category of motorsport, all your peers, all the teams. “I’m announcing my retirement from Formula 1, as of right now.”
There was a wave of shock and loud gasps in the whole room, flashes and flashes bulbing harder than before, journalists scrambling to take notes… But you kept smiling, hand firm around your trophy as you let the news settle down before speaking again.
“In 2007 I wanted to pay Flavio back for giving me the opportunity to be here today. That debt was paid that same year. After that year I wanted to win for myself, to write my name in the history books, and my dream is now realized. I feel like I should move on and make space for new upcoming talents.” Your eyes were wet with unshed tears, but you smiled, the first genuine smile in a few years.
Fernando felt his heart drop at your words. Things weren’t supposed to go like this, you two should be best friends, drive together, retire together. Go down in history together.
“I’m grateful for everything this sport provided me, the adventures, traveling around the world, the people I met and the people I lost,” there was a calm pause, and Fernando wondered if you were talking about him too, “Now it’s time to go and achieve new dreams. Thank you very much.”
You turned around and walked away under the applause.
Later, after the ceremony was done, you were getting ready to leave when Fernando came to find you. He was dressed in a beautiful suit, looking like a million dollar man.
“Nena…”
It made you pause. It had been a while since he called you like that with that specific tone. 
“What? Came here to gloat?” You couldn’t help but be defensive, worried.
“What?”
“I knew you’d be one of the happiest when I retired.”
“No, I would not-”
“You would, Fernando. You did. Many times you said I was done, that my prime was over, that I should retire…” 
“I never thought you’d easily give up!” He shouted at you, “Like you did in 2006, not competing against me.”
“That’s because they didn’t let me compete! Do you think I couldn’t have competed with you back in ‘06? I could, but every time, they would tell me to back off, to let you pass, to not fight you, to not overtake you-” You threw at his face, because you wouldn’t stand there and let him look down on you like that. You refused to back down now that you were finally free. “Pat threatened my seat if disobeyed team orders.”
“What?! Why did you never tell me that?” Fernando looked shocked. His fighting stance was completely gone now.
“You were going to be World Champion again. I would never take that from you,” You whispered, voice failing.
“Nena…” He said, like he wanted to drop everything. “Please, don’t leave. If Red Bull don’t want you, you can find another spot with another team, we can think of something.”
“Fernando, I’m not leaving because the team doesn't want me. In fact, they offered me a 3 year extension.”
“That’s not how it was supposed to go, remember? We planned that-” His voice was kinder than it had been to you in many years, “We would go down in history together. Win together, retire together.”
“When push comes to shove, only one wins… We learned that the hard way.” I say, with a sad smile, “Life doesn’t always go as planned. And I got everything I could ever want from Formula 1. Now it’s time for new stuff.”
“What new stuff?”
“I want to have a family, Fernando. People don’t stick around long for this lifestyle, you know that-” You shook your head.
With one last look at Fernando, your eyes watered, and you walked away.
Sitting on the porch, you looked up at the sky, thinking of what’s next for you. It had been months since you announced your retirement from Formula 1. The new season had already begun. It was your birthday, a refreshing new one.
You heard steps coming closer and your heartbeat sped up as you saw Fernando walking up to you. He sat down by your side, holding a pint of ice cream and two spoons. He handed one to you and in silence, you started eating ice cream.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said after a few minutes of silence.
“Was it hard to find me?” You asked, with a tentative smile.
“It only took me my whole life to find you again…” He said, wistfully, his eyes shining under moonlight and you didn’t know if those were unshed tears or not, “my best friend, my nena, my girl…”
“I’ve always been here. Right here.” You said, eyes watering. You weren’t sure you could explain what that here meant, but somehow you knew he would understand.
Fernando took your hand, gently placing it on his chest, right above his heart.
“Right here,” he whispered, pressing his hand above yours, over his beating heart, “you were always here.”
Then, he kissed you. For the first time in more than a decade, for what felt like the first time for both of you. As his other hand pulled you closer, the kiss deepened, like a prayer and a promise. Both of you knew there was a lot of resentment to navigate through, and a lot of feelings you’d both have to unravel and understand. But there was one thing that was always there, through hate, anger and hurt… And it was love, unshaken, steadfast love.
As you broke apart, Fernando pulled you into him, hugging you tight for a few minutes, before pulling away to hold your face with both hands, his eyes looking into yours with so much devotion it melted everything away.
“We will be alright.”
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landograndprix · 7 months
Text
「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」
part i
✧.* you're going back home, your new teammate is all too excited and his fans aren't afraid to call him out.
✧.* another fic? yeah 😔 I don't know about you guys but I need a good dose of cutesy lando fluff in my life after all the angst I've written so far. reader is older so once again, if that's not your cup of tea, don't drink it 😉 anyway, taglist for this fic is open and I hope you enjoy it as much I I enjoy making it ☺
✧.* next part
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y/nusername posted to their story
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redbullracing
📍 circuit of spa francorchamp
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liked by maxverstappen1, y/nusername and 78,652 others
redbullracing brining home another 1-2! 🥇🥈
#f1 #redbullracing #belgiumgp
view all 345 comments
leon187 amazing drive from both drivers!
julieeeexo robbed my girl from p1 like usual
luvy/n for real, she was way faster than max and yet they refused to let her pass..:/
norrizz you might want to treat your 2nd driver a bit better, you should be embarrassed
patrickm there's a reason woman should not be in f1 and y/n showed us why.
norrizz oh shut up you dumbwit, all women on the grid ended up in the top ten today, y/n even got on the podium just say you have a small dick
norry4 their dicks be bigger than the average male fan, ofcourse they're scared
benmorris would've loved to see y/n in p1, fingers crossed for the Dutch gp.
maxmaxmax sir they are in love 🥰
bott_ass they're both in a relationship..
maxmaxmax no offense but that never stopped y/n 💀
bott_ass girl you did not go there 😂
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mclaren
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liked by y/nusername, landonorris and 110,672 others
mclaren Bringing the rebel, the birdie and our favorite girl back home 🧡
tagged: y/nusername
view all 563 comments
mclarensnorris back where she belongs 🧡
mclaren where it all started 👏
markklein what a disappointment..
hamilt44n y/n and lando are gonna bring mclaren back to the top, mark my words
norrizz did somebody check up on lando yet? Does he know yet?
clsixteen lando 'I have a crush on y/n' norris losing his mind right now 💀
landonorris sick bro, gotta watch my back from now on
y/nusername if you can get infront of me, yeah..
landonorris fair enough, you should watch your back then
landolando omfg I already love this duo 😭
sharl16 lmfao I never knew I needed this duo in my 😂
mcy/n the queen is coming home 🧡
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y/nusername
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liked by landonorris, milouberger and 283,672 others
y/nusername girls girls girls ☀
tagged: milouberger, cecilemoulin
view all 726 comments
f1ladiess seeing the girls do things together outside of f1 is my favorite thing 🥰
charlos16 live laugh love grid sisters
julieeeexo God y'all so hot what the fuck?!
cecilemoulin we should've left milou at the bottom of the ocean but hey, who am I?
milouberger I wish you did.
y/nusername girls, no fighting without me..
cecilemoulin okay mom 🥰
zhou_ey just a little bit jealous..just a little 🤏
landonorris invite?
y/nusername no boys allowed
cecilemoulin put on a dress and you're welcome
norr4slando this is the grid that I adore 😭
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y/nusername posted to their story
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if you want to be removed from a taglist, let me know ☺
feel the magic taglist:
everything taglist: @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @buffysummrsx @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs
lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people
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rashoumon-homo · 15 days
Text
BSD Men - Would they be good at giving head?
BSD x Gender Neutral Reader, NSFW
Includes: Dazai, Kunikida, Ranpo, Chuuya, Sigma, Nikolai, Atsushi, Fyodor, and Akutagawa
Author’s Note: Just a quick lil headcanons post to fill the void of content while I work on Bottom Dazai Week! A little low-effort compared to what I usually post, hope that’s alright :)
NSFW CONTENT AHEAD - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
(Ranked roughly from best to worst)
Dazai
Holy FUCK bro, YES.
He’s good at it and he knows it
He moans into it like he’s the one getting off
He’ll have you coming on his tongue in less than 2 minutes
And he swallows too- gladly! He insists you taste amazing
Knows his anatomy too - all the spots to lick and suck to get your toes curling
Kunikida
Way more skilled than expected
This man literally sat down and studied before even his first attempt
Knows your anatomy better than a doctor atp
You had to remind him to relax at first because even though he was doing everything right, he was as mechanical as a robot
As he got more comfortable with it, you both had more fun
Prefers other types of sex but will gladly give you head if you ask
Ranpo
Absolutely - if he feels like it
You know how he is, picky with taste and texture of things he puts in his mouth and whatnot
But if he’s into it, he’s hella skilled
Definitely won’t swallow, but he’ll give you head for longggg periods of time, making you cum over and over
He’s just having fun with the tactile experience and with seeing you come undone under his touch. Boosts his ego a little lol
Chuuya
Oh yeah for sure
He gives head to tease though, not to get you to finish
Always looking up at you from under his lashes because he knows it gets you flustered
For some reason gives better head when he’s drunk
But he usually stops before you can cum because for him, oral is ideally just foreplay
Points docked for that :(
Sigma
Yes and no
He’s more inexperienced, so the first few times are a little clumsy
But he’s determined to learn how to please you
With practice and guidance from you, he’ll come to be really good at it! You just have to get through the awkward phase first
Nikolai
Duh
Y’all already know he’s a freak
He’s got plenty of skill and enthusiasm but he gets bored quickly
If it’s taking too long to get you to cum, he will flat out give up
He’s always coming up with new ways to do it as well (don’t ask what that means) so hopefully you’re willing to put up with his weird-ass, occasionally morally concerning ideas
Atsushi
Not perfect initially but eager to learn
Inexperienced and over enthusiastic (too much teeth 😬)
Wants so badly to please you
Probably needs some guidance at first
Fyodor
Good luck convincing him…
He sees giving head as a sign of submission so he’ll likely flat out refuse for a very very long time
If you can sway him, he’s about average in skill
Not much experience, since he hates doing it, but he picks up the skill quickly
Surprisingly gentle and cautious with his mouth (whether for your sake or his is unclear)
Do not cum in his mouth. He will pointedly spit it out because he’s grossed out and will likely sulk about it after
Akutagawa
This guy does not enjoy giving head and it shows
He’ll do it on rare occasions but his discomfort is palpable and kind of makes it not fun
If you finish in his mouth, he’s spitting that shit out. No offense to you personally, he just finds the idea of swallowing gross in general
Stick to other types of sex I beg of you
Tag List: @suru1990 @little-miss-chaoss
If you want to join the tag list, send me a dm!
Back to Masterlist
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bbyjackie · 10 months
Text
𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡
one piece social media + dating feat: kid
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♡ liked by hey_its_heat, CAPTAIN.KIIIID and 2.9k others
_ynln: kid waiting patiently infront of the den den mushi
13 mins until the @/dominicfike album releases!!!
tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: LETSS GOOOOO 🔥🔥
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: SUNBURN IS SUCH A BANGER
killerrr: no wonder it was so peaceful on the victoria punk
↳ _ynln: the only time kid isn't wrecking havoc, the fike effect!!
trafalgar_d.law: rare photo of eustass where his hair isn't radiating hairspray fumes (liked by p1rateking_luffy)
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: ITS ALL NATURAL
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: dont be mad that i actually take care of my hair
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: i can smell ur 10 in 1 from here
↳ p1rateking_luffy: HAHA Tra guy is write 😂😂
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: STFU YOU DONT EVEN SHOWER. YOURE A NATURAL HUMAN REPELLENT.
↳ trafalgar_d.law: omg strawhat please learn how to spell
↳ _ynln: PLEASE YOU GUYS ARE SO ANNOYING TAKE THIS TO THE DMS 😭
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♡ liked by trafalgar_d.law, killerrr and 3.7k others
_ynln: kid refuses to share his lipsticks with me 😪😪
tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: ew why would i want cooties from you
↳ _ynln: ive seen you eat pasta off the ground 😐
↳ hey_its_heat: puts you into perspective
↳ _ynln: WTF WHY AM I GETTING SHIT ON
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: YEAH CAUSE YOU LOSE THEM
↳ _ynln: IT WAS ONE TIME
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: I STILL WANT MY ROMAND#23 NUCADAMIA BACK
killerrr: simp 🥱🥱
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: how do i dislike a comment
lovenami: wtf why does he have a better collection than me
↳ _ynln: life is so unfair 😔💔
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♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, wirewirewire and 4.1k others
_ynln: i'll never shut up about this
thanks for the tickets loser <3
tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID, m.by__sana
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: thanks to yn im a certified once now
wirewirewire: YOU GUYS WENT TO TWICE WITHOUT US?!
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: imagine not being able to see the feels live 🥱🥱
↳ _ynln: kid wtf KFJWBHJDJ 😭😭
lovenami: HOW DID YOU MANAGE TO GET TICKETS I WAS STRUGGLING
↳ _ynln: IDK HAHA KID GOT THEM FOR ME
doflamingo_: I'll get you VIP tickets next time, hmu
↳ _ynln: im blocking u, you're practically a senior citizen
↳ trafalgar_d.law: wtf are u doing on her page?
↳ killerrr: when worlds collide.
↳ lovenami: yn take one for the team 🤞🤞
↳ heyl_its_heat: you’ll be remembered 🤕🤕☝️
↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING ON MY GIRL'S ACCOUNT
↳ p1rateking_luffy: 😆
↳ theroronoa.zoro: this is actually funny asf
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♡ liked by killerrr, lovenami and 4.8k others
_ynln: im thirdwheeling my own relationship ☝️
tagged: CAPTAIN.KIIIID, killerrr
hey_its_heat: being self aware >>>
wirewirewire: THIS IS CRAZY LFMAOO
lovenami: GIRL ITS NOT YOUR RELATIONSHIP ANYMORE 💀💀
killerrr: bffr i was the one third wheeling, if i have to see u guys kiss one more time i’m ending it 😐😐
↳ _ynln: 😭😭
CAPTAIN.KIIIID: you woke us up cause u were bored and wanted to gossip
↳ _ynln: okay and you weren’t complaining when i was telling you all the new world drama 🤨🤨
↳ killerrr: how do you even know about all of it 😭😭
↳ _ynln: nami, robin, chopper and me have the best gos talks <3
↳ nicorobin: so real (liked by lovenami, ilovecottoncandychopper)
CAPTAIN.KIIIID 2h
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[CAPTAIN.KIIIID] _ynln replied to your story: omg why are u being cute, what did u do
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