#Nice to find something this good on Twitter or X... Whatever

[magnificent-winged-beast]

The face. The celebrity. The Misha.

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.��

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift���.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[neowinestainedress]

SECRET — lee jeno

𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: secret

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lee jeno x fem!reader

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: smut, fluff (at the end), established relationship, kink discovery, relationship development

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: jeno has a secret he can’t tell anybody, not even you.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: sub!jeno, dom!reader (it’s their first time reversing roles so they’re both exploring how it feels like), implied masturb*tion, n!pple play, kinda hand-free org*sm/coming untouched, an*l fingering, riding, overstimulation, praise kink, minor degradation, size kink (but reversed??? reader is not bigger than jeno but somehow jeno feels small and likes to feel like that), ch*king, names used for jeno (baby boy, good boy, pup/puppy, pretty boy), names used for reader (ma’am, miss, mommy), big d!ck jeno, there’s nothing wrong with being a sub but jeno has issues because he has to always be strong so it doesn’t feel right for him, count the times I say ‘please’ in this (not my fault jeno is the bestest boy ever), aftercare (and kink discussion)

𝐖𝐂: 10.202k

𝐀/𝐍: a gift for my love @yellowgirllsblog, I converted her to subjenoism so I’m on a mission to let more of you see the light of the day and appreciate sub!jeno more. ps: you will never catch me call twitter ‘x.’ enjoy and if you do, please reblog and leave feedback! love u!

Jeno has a secret.

Once you’ll find out what it is, it won’t seem a big deal, but to him, it is.

It’s so big, so stressful, and so shameful, he can’t even talk to you — his sweet, loving girlfriend — about it.

It’s stupid, really. Deep down Jeno is well aware of how dumb it all sounds, but every time he faces it, it looks like a big mountain he can’t climb — and that will probably crumble on top of him, smashing him on the ground.

Stupid or not, big or small, it haunts him every day. Yes, every day. At first, Jeno thought it was just a temporary thing, something that piqued at his curiosity for fun, but soon enough, he fell down the rabbit hole. Looking back at it now, he probably was buried deep in the rabbit hole since forever but he —and the perception others had of him— did a good job at polishing the place real nice and don’t make him realize where he was.

Jeno accepted he is far gone a while ago, but he still can’t wrap his head around it. How is that possible? How could he, out of all the people, like something like this, be like this.

And that’s why he keeps it to himself, praying that if he doesn’t act on it, if he pushes it out of his mind, it will just leave. He’s strong, and fit, and he pounds into you every night, giving it to you like you want it. He can’t be anything else other than this, nothing but a confident, strong man that can’t be vulnerable.

But it turns out that pushing it out of his mind is not as easy as it seems. Jeno might be weaker than he realizes when he keeps going back at it, sipping on it at small doses, almost as if whatever he is holding in it’s a drug he doesn’t want to get addicted to — not knowing he already is. But for now — and forever, he thinks — this is just a fantasy, he can’t get addicted to something that is not real, to a version of him, no matter how authentic it feels, that can’t come out. But he slips further every day, hiding in your shared bedroom with his laptop or phone when you’re at work and he can have a bit of time to himself, when he stares at the box with your toys and lets time pass by because he doesn’t dare to do the next step, and lastly when he fucks his fist with your used panties and calls your name… or well, how he wishes he could call you.

And then clarity hits him again, making him groan as he rushes to the bathroom on wobbly legs, throwing your stained panties inside and starting the washing machine while he questions himself; why? He feels pathetic; masturbating over you as if he needs to fantasize about you, as if he doesn’t have you every night, and every day, and yet, it’s still not enough, it’s not how he wants you. But he feels guilty, he feels like he won’t be enough if he confessed to you, if he let you know his secret. And most of all, he’s terrified he’ll lose you. This version of him is not the one you picked, is not the one you love. And he’d damn himself forever if he lost you for something so silly.

So, he sighs, takes a deep breath, and then exhales deeply, rubbing his teary eyes before pushing his tired body up from the wall to walk back to your bedroom and fix himself.

Jeno has a secret, and he will take it to his grave.

Your boyfriend has been acting strange for a while now. At first, you figured he was stressed because of work, but now, you don’t think that’s the only reason.

Your brain goes crazy, imagining the worst-case scenario, the top one: he wants to break up with you. So, you start acting strange, too. Panicking, over-analyzing everything, and mostly, bracing yourself for the worst. Every time he starts talking to you with a serious tone, you fear that those words will come out of his lips, especially when before starting the conversation he stares at you for minutes and thinks so loudly you can almost hear his thoughts.

But the worst never comes, this goes on for weeks, and even if your boyfriend does act strange, nothing of his weirdness leads to a breakup, literally nothing can make it plausible, and even your brain gives up keeping you up at night with the fear of you losing him.

Jeno has never been so touchy. His hands are always on your body, any excuse is valid to let his fingers wander on your skin; if he needs to help you pick up something, if he needs to reach for the remote, if he has to leave for work, anything as long as he gets to feel your warm body.

And that doesn’t shock you much, Jeno has always made it clear how much he finds you attractive and how obsessed and in love he is with you and your body, but well, not like this. His fingers seem almost fearful, and so are his lips when he kisses you, and even something about his eyes doesn’t seem quite right. And then there are those unsaid words that you can see pending from his lips, and yet, they never come out. Every phrase Jeno starts is followed by a stutter and a quick shake of the head, other times his cheeks turn bright red as he zones out and you have to shake him out of whatever he is thinking, and then he goes back to act though and shrug it all off as if nothing happened.

You don’t get it, and every time you try to ask if something’s wrong, he acts surprised and tells you everything’s alright. You don’t buy it, but you feel that if something’s annoying him, he will come talk to you when he’s ready, so you leave him alone.

Jeno has a secret, and you have to find out in a way you don’t like.

You don’t like to roam around and stick your nose in things that aren’t yours, honestly, you hate doing so because you would hate if somebody did that with your things.

But you’re bored, laying on your bed, waiting for Jeno to come out of the shower, and your phone is somewhere in the living room, and you’re bored.

Picking up his phone to play some games is not an invasion of privacy, it’s the only thing you do with his phone, and Jeno is fine with it — he even lets you download those ugly, ads-filled, games that pop up in ads of other annoying games, he doesn’t get them, he hates the graphic of most of them, and he doesn’t understand how you can survive so many ads, but it’s fine, anything that makes you happy because you saved the King from drowning, cleaned a hotel room or built a pretty land.   

You would’ve minded your business if it wasn’t for one of those stupid games and ads, causing the app to crash and make you huff.

You’re pissed as you click the left bottom on the bottom of his screen to see all the apps and go back to your game, hoping it won’t die again, you’re so caught up that you almost miss the other window of Twitter and some other apps he used before.

But well, what you see is too shocking to make you go back to the business of your hotel.

You freeze, and a lump forms in your throat as you blink speechless with your mouth wide open. You feel the world could collapse under your feet but then you shake your head.

Dumb asshole, it’s fine. He might be bisexual, he’s not using you as a beard, right?

But you still stare at the video in shock, the only focus is on the naked man with a choker, moaning while the vibrator edges him, and the playful touches on his nipples make his hips rut.

And when Jeno comes out of the shower you’re still dumbfounded. Your eyes look up, and his smile drops as soon as he sees your face, it looks as if you saw a ghost, and he fears something has happened to you, but he barely manages to let out ‘are you ok?’ before you stop him.

“Are you gay?” You ask, nothing of the more rational questions you came up with before passing your lips.

He giggles nervously, eyes skimming you. “What?

You feel a lump in your throat and then reply. “What is this?” you lift the phone, video playing on mute, you can’t bear to hear the moans again. “Why are you watching porn and why are you watching porn focused on men? If you want to try something out you can tell me, but please, tell me I’m not your bearding girlfriend and this wasn’t all a lie.”

“A lie?” Jeno screams, feeling his heart pump hard in his chest. “It’s not and I’m not gay, I might be bi, but I never wanted to question much about it but... Wait, would it make you love me less?”

“No, God, no, but I don’t understand this,” you squeak, voice breaking a bit for the confusion you feel and also because his face dropped even more.

“It’s nothing,” Jeno says, abruptly taking the phone from your hand and closing the tab. His hands are shaking, he can’t believe he’s so fucking stupid, how could he not think about it? He always makes sure to close everything so that you can’t find out.

“Nothing?” You ask, eyes wide and a bit of sarcasm in your tone. “Why are you watching that kind of video...”

“I — I... It’s just something dumb the boys sent me,” he justifies, scratching his neck, but his eyes are everywhere except on yours.

You would believe him if only he wasn’t so evasive with his answers and body language, he’s a nerve wreck, he has to be hiding something. “Is it? Why would they do it?”

“I don’t know, you know they’re dumb,” he says and then pauses, biting his lips nervously before he gathers the courage to speak. “Did you watch it?”

You furrow, mumbling for a few seconds before replying as if it was obvious. “Yes.”

“All?”

“Yes, it’s not that long,” you reply without getting where he wants to go with these questions.  

Jeno nods and bites his lips, strategically avoiding your gaze.

“Jeno...” You call and he hesitantly raises his face. “Are you sure you’re not lying to me? If you like men and only them it’s fine, I would be heartbroken, but I want you to be happy, and I —”

“Stop it! It’s not that,” he snaps, face burning red when your eyes meet and you’re looking at him with curiosity. He feels doomed, you don’t even get it so how can you be into it?

“Oh.” You gasp. “Oh.” It clicks. Your mind replays the video, catching the details you missed, and you get it. He wants those things to be done to him. He doesn’t want a man; he wants you to do that to him.

Jeno stills, fearing the worst from you. “I’m not into it, that video just came up and I was curious,” he tries to save himself but it’s too late.

“No,” you stop him, “you are into it. Don’t lie to me,” your tone drops a bit, and you study his reaction, he trembles, and his face reddens even more. You’ve never seen him so embarrassed and vulnerable in all those years you’ve dated. Jeno, Lee Jeno, blushing bright red and stammering on his words right in front of your eyes. You’re dreaming, that must be it, maybe you have a fantasy you’re not aware of yet and this is your brain poking the thought into you.

But you shake your head, rub your eyes, and he’s still there.

“Jeno?” You call his name again when he gives you his back, quickly trying to find his clothes and make this less embarrassing, considering the only thing covering him is the white towel he put on before. “Look at me,” your voice comes out stern when he doesn’t listen to you and with a big step forward you have him trapped against the wall. Your fingers reach his chin, lifting his face resolutely.

But Jeno still doesn’t reply; you see his Adam’s apple move in his neck and you feel his breath get discontinued, but nothing comes from his mouth.

You have two choices; play the game he wants you to play or have a serious conversation about this. You’d rather go for the last one, you’re not so sure you’d be a master at doing what he wants you to do, but it seems like there’s no room for a decent talk right now.

You cup his chin, squeezing it enough that his lips pout, something he always does to you. His eyes widen, and his hand immediately wraps around your wrist, yet he doesn’t try to push you away.

“Tell me, Nono,” you coo, voice low and teasing, “do you want to be teased like that?”

He shakes his head, quick movements causing some still damp strands of hair to fall on his eyes, “No, no, I don’t.”

You scoff, shaking your head before leaning closer. “Why are you lying to me?”

He mumbles, struggling to talk for the embarrassment and the hold you have on his face. “I’m not,” he cries out.

“Oh, really?” You ask, letting his face go, making him lose his balance now that he can’t hold onto you. “Then you have nothing to hide, right?” He nods, biting his thumb and looking at you like a dog with his tail between his legs. “So, I guess you won’t mind if I took your phone right now, right?”

His eyes widen and his thumb falls from his lips. “Bu-but wh-why?”

You burst out laughing, holding your stomach in an exaggerated mocking move. “Bu-but wh-why?” you taunt him, imitating his high-pitched trembling voice. “Phone, now.”

Jeno’s not sure how to feel. This is what he wanted, right? And you don’t seem… mad. So why does he feel so embarrassed as he grabs the phone and hands it to you?

You smile and then open Twitter. You notice he has two accounts and when you scroll through the likes, the retweets, and more, you’re speechless. Well, now that you have him in front of you, so pliant, shaking, and red in the face, it’s not surprising anymore, but the Jeno you’re used to is not like this.

Men tied up and edged until they whimper and beg to come, rough face sitting, pegging videos, and captions about ‘good boys’ being used as sex toys by their ‘dominant mommy’, are all you see. You sigh and throw the phone on the bed carelessly.

“I’m sorry,” Jeno cries out, falling on his knees right in front of you. “I didn’t mean to disappoint you. I don’t need that, I swear I don’t, I can still be your usual boyfriend, I’ll fuck you so good, I promise I —”

You shut him up with a kiss, it’s rough and quick, enough to leave him surprised and, momentary, speechless. “Will you stop mumbling no-sense?”

“But I —”

“No, shh,” you say, thumb on his lips to keep him quiet. “Did I say anything? Did I look disappointed?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and he shakes his head. Honestly, he has no idea, he was too worried panicking to actually pay attention to your reaction. “Did I ask you to apologize? Do I look disgusted to you?”

“N-no,” he mumbles, but his eyes are still leaking tears.

“No, exactly,” you reassure. Your hand moves to the back of his neck, wrapping around the long hair at the nape before tugging and yanking his head back. “Now can we be serious and face this or do you want to keep crying at my feet?”

That shouldn’t make his dick twitch in the — now incredibly tight —towel but it does, still, he hopes you didn’t catch it, and nods swiftly.

“Good,” you smile slyly. You saw it, but that’s something you’re going to deal with later. “Stop lying and be honest with me. Do you want me to do this to you?” Your other hand moves down on his neck, creeping on his toned chest until it reaches his hard nipples, and when you brush one, he whimpers. Jeno tries to hide it, closing his eyes and pressing his lips together, but his body is reacting on its own, and it has never been more of an open book.

You never paid his body much attention, always letting him do anything to you, so this is… new, and interesting.

Your fingers play with the other one, rubbing against the sensitive tip and watching him struggle to keep it all in. “Sensitive much, aren’t you?”

He nods quickly, head falling down but you tug it back again, making him groan lowly.

“Head up,” you order, leaning down to come face to face, breath fanning against his, “and answer me. Do you like it when I play with your nipples?”

“Yeah — yeah, I like it,” he breathes out, leaning in to kiss your lips but you pull away.

“Ah, ah,” you click your tongue, shaking your head, “not yet, baby boy. You’ve been naughty, keeping important things from me. So now you’re going to earn it, alright?”

Jeno nods faster than he would want to, hips shaking on his heels in excitement like a dog wagging his tail.

You think it’s cute, he’s cute. And you still don’t quite know how to do this, how to be on the other side, but something inside of you makes you feel confident enough to think it’s worth giving a try. You like to be on the receiving end, so you have to give him what you usually like to receive. Also, you’ve encountered femdom content before, even liked it, never explored it much, but this might be fun.

“Words.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You raise a brow at the title, but you like the way it rolls from his lips, and it makes your body react, pussy clenching around nothing and stomach twisting in anticipation.

“Good boy,” you reward him. You love being called a good girl, so you think he’s going to like that too, and he does. His smile grows bigger, cheeks tinting red again, and most importantly, his dick reacts, twitching against the towel.

You think it’s time to set it free, so your hand grabs the hem and pulls the white clothes off him. Jeno whimpers, hands quickly going to cover his hard, throbbing dick — well, trying to, it’s too big to hide anything.

You laugh at his lame attempt, slapping his hands away. “Getting shy now? I’ve seen it and felt it countless times, don’t you agree? Or, I don’t know, have you forgotten? Maybe your brain stops working when you’re… like this,” you finish with a teasing look from his head to his bent knees, rubbing against the hard floor and becoming red.

Jeno shivers, shaking his head, but for some reason, he feels even more embarrassed. He’s not used to being in this position, and all the times he imagined to be here, he didn’t think you would be like this. You’re not much shorter than him, but you are, and now you’re towering over him, your gaze is piercing through his soul, and your voice is sultry like it has never been. He wanted this so badly but even if he fantasized for months, now, he doubts he can take you.

You sigh, rolling your head. “How many times do I have to say it? Words.”

Jeno frowns momentarily, he knows you’re having a ball because usually, he wants you to talk back to him even if he’s fucking the fourth orgasm out of you. But his ‘anger’ doesn’t last. He nods, and then apologizes. “Sorry, I’m so sorry, ma’am. You can see it.”

“Of course, I can,” you say, kneeling to his eye level, “it’s mine.” Two of your fingers brush on his hard cock, tracing the thick vein that run on the side, the one that rub your sensitive walls so good when he’s pounding into you.

He nods quickly, swallowing hard to don’t moan shamelessly, and then stutters on his words. “You-yours. You can do — do whatever you want.”

You smile widely and tilt your head because it’s not a dominant smile. You might like this a lot. You might like this more than you anticipated. There’s something thrilling about having him like this, in your hands, to play with, to tease, to edge, to push to the limit. He’s yours, like always, and yet, in a way he has never been.

“Tell me what you want me to do?” You order, those videos are not enough to give you the green light. You need to hear it from him, a bit because you’re lost on your path, but also because you need to hear him describe those things out loud and beg you to do that to him.

Jeno thinks his face might burn up in a second. Sure, if he ever dared to bring this up to you in a conversation, he would’ve had to explain it to you, but he would’ve been dressed, not hard, and his brain would’ve been functioning. Now he’s none of these things. Yet, he tries.

“I — I want you,” he starts, wetting his lips. but he fails to find the words. You want explicit things, he knows it, he can see it in your eyes burning up with desire, but he wants to be honest first, at least now that he has a bit of rationality left. “I want to be your good boy. I want to — to just give up control for once and let you do everything. I want you to control me, to move me around, to make me feel light, to make me feel like I’m… nothing but not really nothing, I want to…” he gulps, forcing himself to keep eye contact because he wants to be good, but it’s not easy. Nothing happened yet, and he’s already a victim of the electricity that’s running in the air. “I want to don’t think. I want you to fuck my brain out until I forget who I am, I want you to tell me what to do, to order it to me. But I also want to feel safe… taken care of.”

It takes you a while to metabolize everything he told you, especially the last part, and you put a reminder in your brain to discuss that later. But now you kiss him, finally giving him what he craves. You wanted to make him wait a bit longer, but you feel like he needs it. It seems that all of this has been bothering him more than you think, and he needs comfort.

“And I’m going to give it to you, if you trust me,” you say when you pull away, softly caressing his cheek with your other hand.

“I do, I trust you,” he replies, hips rubbing against your hand. You give him a quick, stern look and he stops, smile dropping.

“Get on the bed and you won’t have to hump my hand like a puppy in heat,” you order and he’s quickly — stumbling and almost falling — on his feet, walking to the bed.

Once he’s laying on the bed, you follow him, crawling on top of him, your legs trapping him down. You leave kisses on his neck, and as a response his head rolls back, leaving you more room to paint his skin with bites and kisses. And while he’s distracted with that, your hands reach his nipples. His hips buck up and he whimpers.

He’s so sensitive, you can’t believe you didn’t discover this before.

Your fingers play with his sensitive buds, at first, you just rub your fingers on them, but then you get more adventurous studying his reaction. Jeno likes it when you pinch them between two fingers, it makes him hiss and moan, while his hips grind against you. He also likes it when you roll them, low curses escaping his tortured pink lips.

After a while, you decide to pay attention to his whole chest. You won’t lie, you always loved his tits, but you appreciated them from afar, when they were wrapped under the skintight white shirt he loves to wear, or when they played hide and seek under his loose tank tops. When he fucks you, your hands always wander somewhere else, busy trying to hold onto his arms and back for dear life. But now, your hands caress his skin, cupping them as you try to hide a giggle and stay in your role — you definitely need to work on your dominance — and tease his nipples every now and then.

“Fuck,” Jeno bites his tongue, dick rutting against your body, droplets of white shamelessly dripping from his head, staining his length and abs.

“You’re so sensitive it’s almost pathetic,” you try out, testing the waters. You fear you might trigger him, but instead, he moans louder at your words, throwing his head back more, and his dick throbs. “I’m barely touching you and you’re already a mess. You dreamed this so long, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he whimpers, his hips still grinding against you, desperately chasing for release, but you pull away. “No, please,” his voice breaks and tears swell at the corner of his eyes. Jeno is so fucking pretty like this, you have to fight back the urge to reach for the phone and snap a picture.

“Just relax, and focus on the parts I’m touching,” you say, kissing him to shut his whines down. “Let me take care of you.”

And he would, he does, he wants you to take care of him. If only this wasn’t so embarrassing, whimpering and squirming just from having his nipples played with. He wants to hold it in, he can push back an orgasm, but all his good intentions fly out of the window when your mouth wraps around the left sensitive one and your fingers pinch and twist the other one.

It’s not his fault he’s so sensitive.

“Oh God,” he cries out through gritted teeth, knuckles going white for how hard his hands are clenching around the sheets. Jeno feels dizzy, your mouth sucks harshly on his sensitive spot, quickly moving from one side to the other, never leaving him with no stimulation, your fingers are just as swift at taking the place your lips left. “Please, please, fuck,” he begs, hips stuttering messily, and legs parting as his body jerks with pleasure.

“Be a good boy and come for me,” you mumble against his skin, eyes looking up at his. And that’s the last drop for him; the realization that you saw him — and made him — this weak, even the slight humiliation he feels with it.

Jeno comes undone. Long, whiny moans and whimpers slurring out of his plump lips as his body stills before breaking into violent trembles, it’s powerful and overwhelming, and it makes him cry. Mumbles of your name follow when you don’t stop, fingers and tongue moving quickly on his nipples.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries, trying to push you away, “can’t take it anymore.”

You pull away, snickering as you watch the cum drip down his body. His chest is heaving, and his body is slumped against the headboard.

“Was it good?”

Jeno nods, his movements are slow, and his eyelids are almost close, but he still makes out your face, and smiles shyly. “More,” he begs and then adds, “please. If you want to.”

You smile, he’s so polite. “Are you sure you can take more?”

“Yes, yes, I just — I needed to calm down,” he explains, running a hand through his hair that covered his eyes messily.

“Lay on the bed,” you order before standing up.

He follows your order, feeling his body ache as he gets in position, but it all fades in the background when his gaze falls on your body, watching you move to throw your clothes on the floor.

“So,” you’re on top of him, you got rid of your skirt and top, the only clothes on your body are your — drenched — panties and the bra, “what do you want me to do with you?”

Jeno thought the embarrassing part had passed, but, lord, if he was wrong. Because he’s not prepared in the slightest to ask you what he’s about to ask. You will break up with him, this will be the last straw.

“Pup?” Your voice brings him out of his delirium, and he coughs. “You with me?”

He nods, struggling to find the words. “Please,” he whines, “don’t — don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” You ask, a small frown forms on your forehead while your head lightly bends to the side to look at him. You almost look so innocent and harmless like this, but you’re not. You have all the power and control, and Jeno loves this and hates this at the same time. Maybe all of this is more mental than what he thought in the first place, or maybe he needs to relax, stop worrying so much, and just beg you. Beg you to fuck him, beg you to turn him into a brainless mess in the same way he had done in these past few months: pleading with his face smashed against a pillow to muffle his pathetic moans and his fist wrapped around his cock or his fingers inside of him, fooling himself that was you doing that to him.

“Please, fuck me,” he breaks, eyes panicking and looking around the room before you grab his face with a strong old on his chin.

“Say it again,” you order. Your face is relaxed now and the pout on your lips is rapidly swiped away by a sly smirk.  

“Please, please, fuck me, ma’am?” He asks, eyes softening as he looks into yours. He’s such a good boy, so obedient, so, so good. So, you’re about to give him what he wants, and what you want, grabbing the base of his hardening dick and teasing it against your pussy, moving the crotch of the panties to the side, but he surprises you.

“No,” Jeno cries, voice breaking again, “not like this. Not now.”

You stop, stilling and looking at him, eyes blinking as you try to understand what he means. “Not like this? And how do you want me to fuck you?”

“I — I,” he stutters, flashes of warmth heating his body up again, not that it ever really stopped, to be honest, it just keeps getting worse.

“You — you?” You urge, mocking him, mimicking his voice with a condescending tone.  

He frowns offended — and his dick throbs, but he won’t pay attention to that — but then goes on. “I want your — your fingers.”

“Oh,” you say, a smug grin on your face. “A handjob?” You know what he wants, you know where he wants it, but what you want, is to mess up with him.

“No, no,” he whines, shaking his head, reaching for your hand with his before you slap it away, making him groan in annoyance. “Please.”

“Please and no, are those the words that a good pup says?”

“No, miss, I’m sorry.”

“Good, then use your big boy words and tell me what you want. Details, or I won’t give it to you.”

Jeno swallows, inhaling deeply before confessing. “I want your fingers in my ass, please. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, miss.”

“Oh, now that’s clear,” you say, smiling tenderly and patting his head. He melts under your touch, and you keep a reminder to yourself to head pat him more often. “Good boy, telling me exactly what he needs.”

You get up to grab the lube from the drawer but when you open it, it’s not there. You scowl, scratching your head as you try to remember if you finished it and didn’t buy it again, but you don’t use it that often, so it can’t be.

“Where the hell —” you stop when, turning around, you see the blue bottle peeking from under the bed, you kneel to grab it and see that it’s badly closed. “You fucked yourself before?” You enquire, tilting your head, watching his face flush bright red even more, he tries to avoid your gaze, but you trot to him and force his face on you. “You were so desperate you couldn’t help but fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“I’m — I’m sorry, miss, I didn’t mean to,” he justifies, throat dry and heart beating fast. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, he would’ve waited, he wouldn’t have done that, but he needed that, he was terrible at putting this fantasy behind and he needed a release. But he’s still you’re good boy, right? You’re not mad at him for this?

You scoff, clicking your tongue, crawling on the bed. “You didn’t mean to, sure… fucking yourself behind my back, pff,” you scoff. “Tell me, were you thinking of me? My fingers deep inside of you? My hand wrapped around the base of your cock?” Jeno nods eagerly as you pour lube on your fingertips. “Were you calling my name? Whimpering like the desperate puppy that you are? Calling me ma’am and miss, maybe even mommy when you fuck yourself good enough,” all throughout the talk your fingers slip deep inside of him, making him gasp and hold onto the sheets under him.

“Fuck,” he curses, not expecting you to push two fingers inside with no warning. But the surprise turns into bliss in the beat of an eye. Your fingers are slender, and yes, they’re not as long and thick as his are, but they are yours. And you’re so good at moving them inside of him, curling them up, moving them with a firm rhythm, reaching the bottom, and then pulling out, that he has nothing to complain about. “Feels so good,” he somehow manages to let you know. You think it’s cute, his voice doesn’t sound like the usual, it’s whiny, trembling, and full of desperation. His eyes are watery, and you think the red on his cheeks won’t disappear soon.

Jeno is lost in the pleasure, thinking he has never felt better, he’s almost relaxed, lulling in the sensation that sends sparks down his spine. But you want to give him more and your other hand folds his balls, making him hiss and shaking him out of that haze.

“It’s alright, baby boy,” you reassure him, but he’s not sure. Especially when you spit on his dick, adding to the mess of his cum, and run your hand on his length. He wishes you would keep doing this, but instead, you torture him; while your fingers work him open, your hand focuses on his frenulum, massaging his most sensitive spot until he’s a crying and trembling mess again.

“No, no,” he whines when your lips start kissing his leaking tip. “Sensitive — I’m…” his voice breaks and dies in his throat when your lips wrap around it. He has you everywhere and he’s not used to this. He’s not used to feeling so much and giving so little — in his mind, to give you nothing, but to you, he’s giving you a lot. This vulnerable side of him is much more than anything else. “I — I can touch you, I can —”

You shut him up with a slap on his thigh. “You can lay there and take it,” you say firmly but without stopping your movements.

He nods quickly, lips pressed in a thin line, but the pleasure is so big that his moans and whimpers just rumble in his chest.

“Moan, Jeno,” you call him out. “I want to hear you moan for me.”

“But —”

“But?” You scold, glaring at him and stilling your fingers inside him. “Are you going to talk back to me and tell me what to do?” He shakes his head quickly, mumbling apologizes. “I think so, do you want to be my good boy?”

“Yes, yes, please,” he cries, hips bucking up, at first you think he’s doing that to feel your fingers but he’s just that desperate. He truly acts like a puppy too excited to be your good boy to even think straight, his body moving on its own. If he had a tail, he would wiggle it like crazy.

“You want to be my good pup?” You ask again, your fingers pull out and then push in, dragging a low gasp from his lips.

“Yes, I want to. Want to be your good puppy, please.”

“Then do what I tell you to do,” you remind him, your hands go back to his cock, throbbing on his abs and leaking pre-cum. It’s almost… funny how big he is —body and dick— and how helpless and powerless he looks, begging for attention as if he couldn’t just take it from you, ordering you, fucking you. But he lays there, pathetically drooling on the pillow, while his dick drips on his stomach and his ass clenches around your two fingers.

His sounds are like music to your ears, and the vision in front of your eyes makes your pussy drool more, you can’t believe you’re so turned on when fifteen minutes ago you were almost throwing a tantrum for this. But Jeno looks like the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you wonder if he feels this way when it’s the other way around. All you know is that you’re mesmerized, eyes stuck where your bodies connect, his hole fluttering around you, the lube squelching in and out, and his toned, strong legs spread open just for you. Then they move up, the way his dick is throbbing in your hand and spills pre-cum, his chest rising fast, his hands clenched around the sheets. And his face, his eyes are closed but you know they’re rolled back behind his eyelids, his lips are swollen and dark pink, parted open to fill the room with the most desperate whines, his hair is a mess again, scattered around the pillow and his forehead.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whines, lifting his hips from the mattress when you hit him deeper and your hand starts moving faster on him. “Feels good, feels so good, you’re so good, you’re — you’re perfect, I love you, I love you,” he cries out, head rolled back as he lets the pleasure rush through his body.

You smirk at his words, the desperation and devotion behind his voice making shivers run down your spine. “Are you going to come?” You ask, already knowing the answer, watching him nod quickly. “Yeah? Will you be a good boy and come from my fingers only?” Your hand leaves his dick, eliciting a disappointed noise from him, but his breath gets cut off when you add another finger inside of him.

“Please,” he cries, the stretch of the three fingers making his hips move even more from the mattress, only to stop when your hand, flat on his stomach, keeps him pinned down.

“Stop squirming, or I won’t make you come and keep edging you until you pass out.”

It should be a threat, but it doesn’t even sound so bad to him, but not now, maybe one day, now he wants you, and wants to come as soon as possible. So, his hips still, the nervous twitching passing down to his leg but it’s fine, it doesn’t get in the way.

“Good boy,” you praise, patting his head, and making him smile. “Be even a better boy and come for me.”

You don’t have to tell him twice before his orgasm erupts, his body shakes before stilling completely, spurts of white spilling on his stomach, even reaching the sheets as his cock throbs in release and his hole flutters around your three fingers that are still pumping in and out at a fast speed. Slurs of curses roll from his tongue, and so does your name, while his chest rises fast before his body slumps against the mattress.

“Please, please, stop,” he cries out, feeling overstimulated.

You listen, pulling your fingers out and cleaning them on his thigh before leaning forward to kiss him.

“Want you, mommy, please,” he pleads, tears rolling down his temple while his hands look for the warmth of your body. “Please, fuck me, need to feel you.”

“Calm down,” you say, giggling at his cuteness and eagerness and get rid of your panties, throwing them behind with no care, and then follows the bra.

Jeno feels less embarrassed now that you’re exposed too, and gets lost in your body for a few seconds before he bites back a moan when your warm and wet skin makes contact with him. “I — I can fuck you, I can make you feel good, too,” he promises. “Be your good boy and fu–fuck you well.”

You smile tenderly, teasing him as you grind your hips rubbing your pussy on his dick that’s resting on his stomach. “Oh, I know you can.”

“Please, please,” Jeno cries out more. His dick is incredibly sensitive, it’s painfully aching, begging to be wrapped by something after all this teasing. You barely paid it any attention this whole time. “Let me be your good boy, use me,” his voice breaks and he almost chokes on his words as his pleading eyes stare at you for mercy. “Use my — use my cock as you please. Use me like your toy,” he says, “your good toy.”

It almost breaks your heart; he needs validation so badly and you feel genuinely bad for never noticing this before. You just thought he was always so strong and confident; you didn’t think he needed reassurance so much.

“Here, pup,” you say, sinking into him.

Jeno’s head rolls back, his hands clasping around your waist, but his hold, even if it’s strong, is different from all the other times before.

“Fuck, mommy, feel so good.” The way your warm walls wrap around him send him straight to heaven, you’re wet and fit perfectly around him.

“Yeah, you too, baby. You feel so good,” you curse through gritted teeth. He might be a mess underneath you, whimpering, crying, and begging, but that doesn’t make his cock shrink. Jeno’s big, and you should be used to it by now, but somehow it still feels like it splits you open every time.

“Please, fuck me!” Jeno laments loudly, bouncing his hips against yours, but a stern look from you makes him stop and apologize, “So-sorry, fuck me, please?” This time his voice is soft and polite, a desperate edge but with no eagerness behind — yes, there is, but he tries hard not to show it.

“Oh, fuck,” he screams when you lift your body up and slam back into him. You’re a lazy rider usually, and to be more honest, you’re just never a rider, 90% of the time riding his dick is a punishment to make you work for it, but now… well, you kept your skills well stored in. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” he whimpers, hands clenching hard around your waist until his knuckles go white.

“What? You wanted me to fuck you so badly, and now? Bit more than you can chew? Is this too much for you, pretty boy? You can’t take it?”

Jeno shakes his head. “No, no I can, ma’am, I can,” he whimpers, biting his lips harshly.

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” you hum in satisfaction. Your hands fall at the sides of his head, your smaller body somehow still hovers over him and makes him feel smaller than ever. Your intense stare pins him to the mattress even more, making him shiver. “Give me your hands,” you order, but Jeno doesn’t listen — he doesn’t even hear, too lost in you to pay attention to your voice. “God,” you huff, rolling your eyes back, “I really have to do everything on my own because you’re just that dumb.” You forcefully grab his wrists, pushing his arms over his head and keeping them locked against the bed.

“No, I’m — I’m sorry, I — I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you weren’t,” you mock, stilling before starting to pick up the pace again, “you weren’t listening ‘cause you can only focus on how good I’m making you feel, right? Stupid, dumb puppy can only think about his pleasure.”

“No, no, please, forgive me,” he begs, tears streaking down his face, and words coming out between gags and moans.  

“Can you fuck back into me? Or are you too fucked out to do that?”

“No, no, I can. I’ll be good, I’ll be good for you, miss,” he promises, lifting his hips to meet you halfway, but his body feels so heavy and his brain is mush, unable to send signals to his muscles.

Your head rolls back and your hands wrap tighter around his wrists, you find yourself grinding against him, rubbing your clit every time you bottom all the way down. But Jeno’s thrusts are sloppy and messy, he’s not even that bad when he’s about to come. “Stupid puppy,” you taunt, slapping his ass. “Can’t even fuck me after all the pleasure I gave you.”

Jeno sobs, literally, loud cries coming from the back of his throat making him almost choke, and you’re about to stop everything in worry before you realize that’s not because you went too far — partially, maybe, he’s not really happy to be said he’s bad — but because he’s close again and he loves the way you talk down to him and slap him.

“Are you coming again?” You ask in utter surprise because you can’t believe it.

But he shakes his head, he’s fighting against himself to hold it back, and for the sake of having at least an orgasm too, you stop your movements.

“I won’t — won’t come,” he mumbles, lips quivering. “Can’t you… can’t you just use me?” he wails. “Please, I’m too tired. Just… use me like a…” The last words are a slur lower than a whisper, and his head turned to the side doesn’t help you hearing what he said.

You tilt your head to the side, cupping his chin to force him to look at you. “Repeat loud and clear if you don’t want to regret it.”

Jeno gulps, nodding vigorously, but his voice still shakes, and his cheeks burn red again as he repeats. “Use me like a dildo, please.”

“Oh… so, this is how you want to be good to me?” You ask, grinding your hips against him, the stimulation is bare for you but so much for him that you trigger whines and whimpers out of him.

“But it will feel good, even if I don’t move, you know it,” he tries to reason, pleading with his glossy eyes. “I can eat you out after, or — or now, whatever you please, miss.”

“Whatever I please, uhm?” You ask, grinning.

“Yes, ma’am, I’ll do whatever you want.”

You smile, caressing his face, smearing the wet mess around before your hand pats his head. “You’re lucky I want you exactly like this, like a toy.” You start fucking him with no warning, and a gasp rips from his vocal cords before he starts moaning again.

His eyes roll back at each of your hard thrusts, and you see his hands itch because he can’t touch you, but you don’t loosen the hold on him. You feel strong, a kind of power you didn’t even know you had in you, and you don’t want this to stop.

Jeno’s entire body trembles when your hand wraps around his neck, squeezing just enough to dim the flow of air in his lungs. It’s hot but unexpected, just like it’s unexpected that he almost comes on the spot.

“Oh, oh,” you hum in delight, the corner of your lips lifting as you stare at him. “You like it…” Jeno tries to deny but you can read his body; you felt his dick throb inside of you, his eyes flicker to you in light panic before rolling in his skull again, and his breath falter. “Don’t deny it, it wouldn’t be the most pathetic thing you get off to,” you mock, making him blush again. “It’s alright, you can be my naughty boy, I won’t judge.”

He can only hum, and now that you look better in his eyes, you see there’s something completely different behind them. He’s in a completely different headspace, and you fear he won’t last much longer.

It’s the same for you, the thrill and adrenaline can only push you so far, you’re not used to this, bouncing your hips harshly on his cock and having control, your thighs are starting to scream, and your brain doesn’t want to pay them attention but you both know you’re both at the finish line for this first time. Not to add, you’re in desperate need of an orgasm.

“Ti-tight,” Jeno gasps when your hold on his neck loosens enough to let him breathe in normally again, just the time that he can take a few breaths before it fastens again, it’s not too tight, it’s your first time, you don’t want to end with him passed out on the floor, but it’s enough to do its job.

“Yeah? Too tight for you? Can’t take it?”

He moves his head randomly, frenetic movements as he moves his lips to talk, useless. Your cunt is sucking away every coherent thought in his mind, the only thing filling his brain: you and the need to release.

“Don’t talk, don’t need it. I know you’re too sensitive, wanted me so much only to shake underneath me because I’m fucking you too well. Can’t even form a coherent thought in that stupid, little brain of yours, can you?”

He shakes his head, tears streaming down, but you kiss them — lick them — away.

“It’s alright, I don’t want you to think. I like it when your brain is empty. Your just my pretty boy, right? Pretty, good boy that let’s mommy fuck him?”

His nods are eager, and without even realizing his tongue lolls out. You pout at the view, patting his head when you let go of his neck, making him breathe. “Good pup. Just look pretty for me.”

“Pre-pretty,” he whimpers before a fucked-out smile paints his face.

“Yes, baby, you are,” you kiss his lips, petting his hair another time.

“Co-come, wanna come, please. Let me — let me come, ma’am,” he cries out when he has enough air in his lungs and sense in his brain. “Be-begging. I’m beg — mmph,” his words die in his mouth and his eyes squeeze tight when you voluntarily squeeze harder around him.

“Begging? Is this how a good boy begs?” You ask, looking at him sternly, not that it lasts long, because when his eyes open into yours, you fold.

“’M sorry, so-sorry,” he apologizes, “please, miss, let me come, let me come inside of you, let me fill you up. You’ll — you’ll feel good, I promise,” his words are all slurred out together, spit drips from his lips down to his chin and neck, and his body is burning up, if it didn’t mean to edge and denying an orgasm to yourself too, you would probably push him farther, curious to see how far he can go. But for now, it’s fine, he’s a good boy, he deserves it, and so do you.

“Please, please, please, ma’am.”

“You’ve been so good, baby. You can come.”

When you give him the green light, his body explodes, his hips even shyly chase the orgasm up against you, fucking back into you lazily. His head rolls back and as soon as your hand sets him free, his hands find your hips, holding them tight, hissing and groaning when you hold yourself up on his chest, nails digging into his skin as your body keeps bouncing up and down, riding your orgasms.

Your body collapses on his, exhausted and boneless just like his, and his arms wrap around it right away while he still sobs and whimpers in the crook of your neck.

“Shh, it’s alright, you’re alright,” you whisper in his ear while your hand caress his hair, wet again but not with water.

“Don’t — don’t pull out,” he whines when you lift your body, “nooo, don’t leave me.”

“I’m here,” you reassure him right away, carrying his body with yours so you lay on the side and can pull him in a hug. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good,” he mumbles, hiding between your chest and neck. “Tha-thank you, mhh, thank you for —” his voice breaks and his sobs get a bit louder as he hides more in your hold.  

“Hey, it’s fine, take your time,” you say, still soothing him with circular movements on his back and soft rubs on his hair.

Jeno wants to talk, he has many things to say, damn, even an explanation to give to you, but he feels his body is heavy, he feels on a cloud, and you are the softness all over him, he feels safe, something he’s not used to feeling. You didn’t get mad at this, you won’t get mad if he falls asleep for a while, right? If he lulls in this sense of comfort and the aftermaths of what happened.

And almost as if you read his mind… “You can sleep if you want,” you say, kissing his forehead gently and rubbing his nape.

And he has no strength to reply as his body falls into a deep sleep.  

When he wakes up, he’s not naked anymore, a big white shirt is around his body, covering just enough so he’s not completely exposed. The mattress is stripped from the dirty sheets and there’s a glass of water on the bedside table, but you’re not next to him.

Jeno almost panics, feeling the post-nut clarity made you run away scared and disgusted, but then the door opens, and you’re there. And it’s the same you he loves deeply. He can breathe again.

“Oh, hi, babe,” you greet with a big smile. You’re holding something in your hands and you’re wearing one of his shirts. “Feeling better?”

Jeno gulps, nodding and smiling at you, words are hard to find.

“Still too fucked out to talk?” You joke, slumping on the bed next to him, handing him the package of his favorite snacks. “Figured you needed some sugar after all that whimpering and squirming.”

“Oh, please, shut up,” he says, hiding his red face behind his hands.

“Hey, you were cute,” you say, grabbing his hands to move them out of the way. “I — I liked it. Did you?”

He nods quickly, okay maybe he’s still a little into that headspace.

You smile and then pout. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it. I’m always so loud and open about everything I want to try and… it never crossed my mind you might have different needs. I don’t know if you’re hiding anything else, but you can talk to me about everything. I love you and even if I might not be into something I won’t let it be the reason for a break-up, or a fight, or worse, making fun of you,” you say, grabbing his hands. “We can always try and then see the outcome. I mean, all that dominance before was improvisation, I was nervous as fuck too, I just tried to act like you usually do, tell me I was good,” you say, scrunching your face as you wait for his opinion.

Jeno laughs, it’s a genuine laugh, and you can almost see the weight being lifted off his chest. You still feel guilty for not making it feel like you could be a safe place for him, but it’s over now.

“You were really good,” he reassures you. “And… yes, I was a bit afraid of your reaction, but it was also something that had to do with myself. I’m — I’ve always been the strong one since I was a kid and then growing up it also turned into being this big ass man with muscles, so the pressure didn’t help.”

You nod in understanding. It makes you feel a bit less guilty, but you feel like there’s something else. “Is this all?”

“I also always have to be confident, but… I get insecure. I just feel like people are so used to me never making mistakes that they don’t even see my struggles or how hard I work for things, so all my hard work goes unnoticed. But I… I want to be… praised, I want to be told I’m doing good, I want people to tell me they’re proud of me.”

You cup his cheek gently and then kiss his nose, making him giggle. “I’m so proud of you, I tell you that, don’t I?”

“Yeah, you do, you’re the only one,” he says, leg bouncing nervously as he tries to find the words. But you’re holding his hand, rubbing circles on his palm and that’s calming him down a bit, or maybe not because he feels like he’s about to cry again.

“Hey,” you caress his chin and then rub your thumb on his cheek, your touch is soft, and his brain shuts off once again. It’s like he’s taking back all the wasted time he had to act tough and don’t melt in your touch. “I’m here, alright? Take your time.”  

Jeno nods, small hums slipping out of his lips before he finds the courage to talk. “I don’t know, sometimes I just… I want to feel small. And I want to be the one getting cuddled and petted, and just taken care of. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love doing that for you, but… I always see you being so carefree when you’re with me and sometimes I get… so, so jealous because you can… you can loosen up, turn your brain off and no one will judge you. But if I do it, if I get… vulnerable in your hands, I don’t know what people will say.”

You caress his cheek before your hand runs in his hair, not only because it’s covering his handsome face again, but also because you learned he likes it a lot, and as expected, he smiles. “Do people need to know?”

He tilts his head and furrows in confusion. “They don’t?”

“I doubt people care about our sexual life, or what we do in our home. So, this can be our secret, at least until you’ll feel comfortable enough to let loose even outside of these walls. If you’ll share this with me, it will be less heavy, right?”

Jeno nods, smiling and pushing back tears.

“Hey, crybaby today, aren’t you? Come here,” you say, pulling him into a hug. He holds you tight, still afraid you might slip from his hold, and breathes deep your scent.

When you pull away, Jeno’s looking into your eyes and you hum to signal him he can talk.

“Thank you, I don’t know what I would do without you. Seriously, you made me feel safe and not judged, it means the world to me.”

“It’s the way you make me feel always, I’m glad you could feel that way too. And I proved I can protect you even if I don’t have all your muscles,” you joke, lifting your arm and flexing your not-trained bicep, making him laugh. “But seriously, I would never judge you, and I really love this version of you, so, unleash it more often.”

Jeno smiles widely, his eyes turning up in his usual half-moons, and then he lays on the bed, tapping the space next to him. You beam and crawl next to him, pulling him closer again, his head rests on your chest while your hands caress his hair and you just relax in the silence of the house.

“I love you,” you whisper, kissing the top of his head, his hair tickling you for a second. “And I’ll love every version of you, in any universe.”

Jeno still has a secret, but luckily, he has you to share it with.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @rbf-aceu ; @shiningnono ; @jaeminsbebu | general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

[willowsnook]

Right Place, Right Time (pt. 1) Lando Norris

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

new series featuring lando x american reader who works for Monster. This will be a slow burn!!!!!!! patience

----------------------------------------

When performance review time came around at work you were disappointed to hear that there weren't going to be any raises this time around. As a top performer on the marketing team you were disappointed but it had been a tough year. As a consolation prize, your manager had put your name in the hat to win a trip to the Dutch Grand Prix which you thought was kind of random but your company was a McLaren sponsor and it was all expenses paid so whatever. You kind of followed F1 so when you got the email that you had won you were excited. Even more excited that it was not going to be 90 degrees outside like it currently was in Texas.

You landed in Zandvoort on Thursday night and were up bright and early on Friday to get the whole tour and all. You had never been to a race so it was pretty cool and you liked getting to walk around the paddock looking at all the other teams stuff. You snapped a million of selfies to send back to your sister who you knew was foaming at the mouth in jealousy.

You didn't really care about watching the practices so around 3 you headed back to McLaren to find your stuff and go. As you were turning the corner in a hallway you ran right smack into someone else causing you to drop your phone.

"Omg I'm so sorry," you said reaching down to pick it up. When you stood up you were face to face with Lando Norris, one of the McLaren drivers. He looked sad, like really sad. Like the kind of sad you would be if someone stole your dog.

"Are you good dude?" You asked unsure. He gave you a weak smile mumbling something out, his voice cracking.

"Hey hey it's okay," you soothed putting your hand on his arm. "it's only practice ya know." You tried to joke and he met your eyes with his own watery ones.

"It's okay," he said. "Just a bad day, are you looking for someone or something?" You nodded.

"Yeah I need my bag but honestly I'm kind of lost in here," you said.

"It's probably in hospitality, I can walk you there?" He offered and you smiled.

"That would be great," you said following him the way he came from. You walked in silence and you were trying to rack your brain on anything you knew about this guy. You remembered seeing some shit on twitter about him before summer break and a lot of not nice things.

"So what brings you to Zandvoort?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"I work for Monster Energy, and I won a raffle," you said and he let out a laugh.

"You must be a big F1 fan then?" He asked and you shook your head.

"Not really, I watch the races but I just wanted a vacation."

Someone was walking out of hospitality as you were walking in and stopped to talk to Lando.

"We need to talk about today," they said sternly. "Find me later."

You felt Lando deflate next to you but he nodded and guided you in the room. No one else was in there and you quickly grabbed your bag.

"Well there you ar-"

"Why do you like racing?" You interrupted him and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Uhh.. I don't know," he said and you waited. "I've always been in love with cars and the feeling I get. It's like everything else fades away and it's just me."

"Do you still feel that way?" You asked and he nodded.

"For the most part, the pressure and the things said online get loud though," he said quietly.

"Can I be honest with you?" You asked and he nodded.

"I'll never know what it's like to be in your position," you started. "But these people online don't know you. Yes they know the you that your PR team puts out and what you post but they don't know your character. They don't know who you are inside and they probably never will. But you have people here that do know you. People that do care about you and want you to succeed. Drown out the noise with them because those are the people that matter."

He stared at you not saying anything and you started to get the itch of feeling awkward and then to make it worse he quickly looked away and swiped at his eyes.

"Oh my god I made you cry," you panicked. "I'm so sorry I overstepped I don't know you."

He let out a little laugh looking back at you with red rimmed eyes.

"It's a good thing," he said. "It's hard for me to remember sometimes and it's nice to be seen as a human by someone."

You smiled before holding up your bag.

"Well I got this, so I'm going to go but good luck tomorrow," you said.

"Thank you," he replied. "You never told me your name?"

"Y/n," you said holding out your hand and he shook it. "See ya around."

--------------------------------------------------------

You skipped out on the qualifying sessions on Saturday to hang out and relax in Zandvoort but you were really excited for Sunday. You got the the paddock really early and made a beeline for hospitality to get a much needed coffee. As you were waiting for it to finish pouring you heard someone speak next to you.

"I love those pants, where did you get them from?"

You turned around to see a girl maybe a couple years younger than you with long brown hair wearing a creme top and jeans. You looked down at your own dark jeans that fitted you perfectly if you do say so yourself.

"Thank you!" You said smiling. "They are from Abercrombie's curve line."

"Ahh nice," she said moving to start her own coffee.

"Yeah I spend too much money there," you said.

"I never really got into it," she said.

"I wasn't as a kid because they hated fat people back then but thank god for change," I joked and she let out a loud laugh.

"I'm Lily," she said and you introduced yourself back. "Visiting from the US?"

"Yeah, I won a work raffle so here I am," you said and she nodded.

"Are you watching from the garage?" She asked and you shook your head.

"I'm supposed to but I really want to be in the stands so I think I'm going to sneak in."

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"You wouldn't want to watch from down here?" She asked confused.

"No all the real action is out there with all the other fans," you told her. "Have you never sat there?"

She shook her head.

"Well if you're interested in joining me just let me know!" You offered before waving goodbye.

You spent the next hour wandering the paddock soaking in the atmosphere. About 30 minutes before the race starts you see Lily coming up to you with a burly guy.

"I think I am going to join you," she said. "But he has to come too so that nothing happens."

"Awesome," you say and she smiles. You two start walking towards the stands talking the whole way but are intercepted by a McLaren driver.

"Where are you going?" He asks Lily, looking confused.

"We are watching from the stands," she said pulling him in for a hug. He kisses her but looks worried.

"But why?"

"Because it's the full experience Osc," she said and he looked towards the bodyguard who shrugged. "This is y/n by the way, she works for Monster."

A look of realization washes over his face and he reaches out to shake your hand.

"You talked to Lando yesterday?" He asked and you nodded.

"Briefly yeah," you replied quizzingly.

"Hmm," he said and Lily looked at you confused. "Well I have to go but be safe and I'll see you after."

He left the two of you to get back to walking.

"So you met Lando?" She asked.

"Yeah I ran into him and gave him a little pep talk." This made her laugh.

"A pep talk? Do you know him?" She asked looking at you with amusement.

"No, he was just giving off really sad energy," you said truthfully and she sighed.

"Yeah he's going through a hard time."

You nodded. The bodyguard led you two to a row that had clearly been predetermined and motioned for you to file in.

"Isn't this exciting?" You asked taking it all in. The stands were electric.

"It is pretty cool," she said, here nerves easing.

You both were disappointed to see Lando lose his place at the start but amazed after lap 18. The middle was kind of boring except for when Oscar would come around so you and Lily spent the time getting to know each other. You told her about your life in Texas and she told you about life as a WAG. She gave you her number and made you promise to text her especially for the Austin GP. At the end of the race you both screamed like crazy when Lando crossed the link and made your way down to the podium area. It was very cool getting to see it in person.

You walked back to the garage with Lily and said your goodbyes as she went to find Oscar. As you were getting ready to head out you saw Lando across the garage and you gave him a big thumbs up. He laughed and smiled returning the sign.

Your flight was early the next morning so you headed back to your hotel to get ready to go back to real life.

[81folklore]

i can do it with a broken heart - f1 grid

parings: gn!driver!reader x platonic!f1!grid x ex!jacob elordi

summary: after yn and their ex break up, they carry on as best they can and no one had any idea how bad they were struggling

type: social media au (smau)

notes: george is in this but he does not drive for mercedes, yn does. i also used a mixture of fem and masc pictures because i couldnt decide and thought you could just imagine whatever you wish!!

notes 2: probably the longest fic ive done so far but im pretty proud of it. the time stamps above each section are semi important so i would keep an eye on them!! also i know ive been gone for so long but i do not promise ill be back. alsoooo i know i only included a bit of the grid but i kept getting distracted and then couldn’t figure out how to include everyone!!

masterlist

march 2024

twitter

charles oh my god i cant believe my cat is finally the pfp

i have been waiting for YEARS

max yes well you better enjoy it because it’ll change soon and you’ll be back to waiting again.

lando jesus max do you have to use punctuation???

alex be glad he doesnt use captials

oscar one thing at a time lando, we dont want to scare him

max ???

lando anyway

yn mate you ok?

yourname im fine? ur scaring me you never ask how i am

lando yeah but usually your not single

lewis oh no! you and jacob split?

yourname yeah, wasnt working anymore

charles ah im sorry, that must suck😣

yourname i mean it does but its been coming for a long time so its not surprising

fernando hello! yn what is wrong? you always use emotes!

yourname theyre emojis nando, and im fine just a bit lost

fernando do not worry, i will come and find you!

yourname no, i dont mean literally just..we were together for so long i dont really know what to do now you know?

lando i get it, you wanna play tarkov with me???

yourname cheers ill get on now

george let us know if you need anything!

may 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 814,583 others

p✌️ was just what we needed this weekend!

thank you to everyone who came out and supported myself and the team and huge thank you to the team for working so hard all weekend⭐️

view comments

mercedesamgf1 mega job this weekend yn👊 *liked by author*

landonorris nice to share the podium with you mate

yourusername same time next race?

user33 loved seeing you back on the podium

user2 absolutely smashing it this season

user21 more podiums please🤲 *liked by author*

user3 fourth podium of the year first p✌️*liked by author*

twitter

*pretend it says after march i changed dates around last min*

august 2024

yourusername

liked by lukehemmings, charles_leclerc and 1,124,642 others

did some reading, painting and writing

baked some good food and spent time with some good people, also got a cat…not bad for summer break☀️

view comments

user66 AHHHHHH

yourusername ahhhhhhh

user26 cats name plsplspls

yourusername norman🐱

lukehemmings nice music👍

yourusername woah arent you the guy who wrote mum?!

mercedesamgf1 ready to see you back on the podium

yourusername always!!!!

user74 have you had funnnn??

yourusername yesss!! ive been doing lots of things i enjoy, basically treating every day as my birthday😋

twitter

*was supposed to write them instead of her sorry!! was doing two stories at once and kept getting mixed up😅*

october 2024

yourusername

liked by mercedesamgf1, gracieabrams and 1,291,638 others

p☝️ for the 3rd time this season, very very pleased

huuuuuge thank you to the team, every single one of you who worked tirelessly over the summer break and every moment since then, these have been for you⭐️

view comments

user55 what a good season to be a yn fan *liked by author*

user6 these races have been incredible to watch, so proud

yourusername ⭐️⭐️

gracieabrams woop woop!!!!

yourusername 😝😝

user2 gracie??

user41 why have we not had any personal photo dumps yet😕😕

user88 right we miss seeing you yn!!

yourusername sorry guys😣ive been suuuper busy working on something i just honestly forgot

user41 NEW PROJECT?? WHEN?? (also pls dont feel bad we love u)

yourusername soon!! (and i love u guys too)

twitter

november 2024

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 3,689,921 others

tagged: taylorswift

i cannot believe i get to say this, but my new friend taylor just released a new album and i was able to write a song on the album

im honestly not sure how this came about but i had so much fun writing this and expressing all my thoughts and feelings in a way ive never done before

i poured my life and soul into this song and im so glad taylor is the one who is singing it and really bought it to life

send some love to my friend and go and stream THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT (most importantly i can do it with a broken heart😉)

comments have been limited

taylorswift thank you for trusting me with this song, so much love🤍

yourusername NO THANK YOU!!! i will be forever grateful⭐️⭐️

twitter

yourusername added to their story

seen by taylorswift, lewishamilton and 729,282 others

charles i feel completely betrayed yn

fernando oh no😟! what did yn do?

charles THEY DIDNT TELL ME THEY WERE WRITING A SONG??

AND WITH TAYLOR SWIFT HOW COULD YOU☹️☹️

yourname sorry charles, surprise?!

charles ill forgive you because its a good song

yourname thank you my life just got infinitely better!

yuki very good song yn! has been on repeat☺️

yourname thanks yuki, glad you like it!!

lando I LOVE IT TOO

but seriously are you ok?!

yourname yeahhh im better now

was just a lot to navigate

lewis glad you found an outlet! but remember you can always talk to any of us

yourname i know and i appreciate it, i really do

alex yn was that twitter thread right?

yourname mate youre going to have to elaborate

alex user56tweetlink

yourname oh pretty much yeah

some things were changed with taylor but not much

fernando just listened to the song yn! very nice👍well done!

yourname thank uu

max good song yn!

now

lando can you please tell me what you meant on your twitch stream!

oscar max is kind of scary

max dont make me talk about that interview next oscar!

[viennakarma]

The Lucky One (2)

Part 2 (of 2) of The Lucky One | Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Summary: Formula One had been your dream and your goal ever since you were a kid, and you did all you had to in order to achieve it. Between ups and downs, Sebastian becomes a steady presence despite being your complicated frenemy relationship. Until everything comes crashing down. Formula One gives, but Formula One takes.

Word count: 5.5k

Tags: female!reader, driver reader, reader is mirrorball coded, coming of age, cursing, romance, both are assholes, smut, +18, complicated feelings, rivals to lovers, crash, major injury, medical innacuracies, bittersweet ending, not beta read; t.w: brief christian horner scene.

Relationship: Sebastian Vettel x Reader

Note: This is fully inspired by the song, and throughout my writing process I realized it also fits mirrorball. This one may require some tissues (especially in part 2). Everything is fictional and I mean no disrespect to Sebastian or his family (they don't exist in this story). I'm sorry it took me forever to come back to it, but there it is, hope I don't disappoint Not proofread. Comments and feedback are welcomed.

Find me on Twitter! | BUY ME A COFFEE ☕️

Ending whatever complicated fling was going on with you and Sebastian was the right, rational call, you knew that. But your body, your heart, regretted it every couple of weeks as you laid awake in bed, plagued by memories, need and longing.

You decided to just do your best during that season. You couldn’t fight for the championship anymore, but you still wanted a great season since the following year would be your last in the current contract with Red Bull. A great performance could secure a renewal or even the interest of other teams.

Sebastian and you still saw each other frequently during race weekends, your eyes always finding each other across the crowd. He was consumed with guilt, of having been blinded by his own privileges that he didn’t see the struggle that was being a woman in Formula One. He vowed to never be so far from reality like that ever again.

He wanted to stop you, to talk to you again, to try and fix things, but there was this constant mix of shame and uncertainty about your reaction if he tried reaching out again. Sometimes he would look at you from afar, and he’d see something in your eyes, something that felt like the same longing he had. Some other times, you looked at him like you hated him.

Eventually in the third race to the last in Bahrain, he couldn’t take it anymore. There was this string tugging at his heart, begging to see you and talk everything through. During the Friday afternoon, between Free Practices, he marched around decidedly, looking for you. He walked into the garage and no one seemed to mind his presence as he went straight into your driver’s room. He barged in, not bothering to knock. You were sitting on the couch, drinking Red Bull and going through some papers. You frowned and stood up as you saw him.

“What are you-”

“Stop…” He interrupted with both hands up, “don’t say anything just yet.”

You frowned but didn’t look particularly angry, your frown softening into a stunned silence. Sebastian sighed, breathing slowly, he had a plan and a speech when he was marching there, but now, looking at your face, your pretty eyes, he had lost all sense of reason.

“We’ll talk about everything, rationally, like adults. Okay?” He offered, and you slowly nodded, unsure but also willing to try, “Not now, because the race and everything. But- this monday, okay? After the race, after we get a good night’s sleep. We’ll go to a nice restaurant, and we’ll talk over good food. A real date this time, no hiding anymore,” He said, his words pouring out fast, like he wasn’t truly thinking about what to say, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and excitement, “Monday night?”

“Monday night,” You nodded, no anger in your eyes, just a glimmer of hope.

“Good,” He nodded and just left.

You stood there, speechless, but with a disbelief smile on your face, looking almost silly. Despite the anger you felt the last time you two actually spoke, there was this undeniable magnetic pull between you, and you didn’t seem to be able to be away from him just as he wasn’t able to be away from you.

The whole weekend, you felt that nervous energy, almost bouncing up the walls, you attributed it to the race, but you knew it was more than that. The car had been great the whole week, you qualified P2, your first real possibility of win in a few months, which would be a blast to finish the season winning one of the last races.

You were smiling as you waved to the fans during the driver’s parade, your first hopeful and excited pre-race interview in quite some time. As you put on your gloves and helmet, you couldn’t help but feel some sense of purpose. You would give your very best in that race.

You just didn’t know it would be your last time behind a Formula 1 wheel.

The race was great, it started alright and most of it you kept your P2, even after a failed attempt of undercut, you still managed your P2, but then came the moment, the point of no return in your career, the very moment that changed the trajectory of your life forever.

After turn 15, you had finally managed to catch up to the P1, less than half a second behind him, and despite his car being fast, you could try and overtake him with the DRS. You pushed the fastest you could in the straight, closing and closing the distance, almost succeeding in overtaking, but as the DRS zone ended, you realized you’d have to wait another lap to try again. But then, as you pushed the pedal to brake and slow down into turn 1, the car kept going. So many things happened in the span of mere seconds, but they felt like ages to you.

“I’ve got no brakes,” You said into the radio as you tried braking. Then you tried engine braking and the security system braking. None of it worked.

With quick thinking, you decided to face the turn that way and bear it. You'd probably lose a lot of grip with the rear, but if you hit the curbs it’d help you slow down and just drive to a stop. You kept trying the brake pedals all the way to the turn, when suddenly, the tyres locked up and everything happened really fast.

You weren’t able to turn, the tyres locked and you had no way to slow down the car. All you did was brace as you went full force straight into the barriers, the impact so hard it made your car split in half. You blacked out for a couple of seconds and then came to again, a ringing in your ears as you tried to situate yourself, a mix of excruciating pain and numbness, pulsing hard, almost keeping you in and out of it.

Pain. Numb. Pain. Numb.

You tried to stay awake, hearing your name being called in the distance, the numbness giving each time more space to the excruciating pain but you couldn’t identify where it came from.

“Talk to me! Are you okay?” You were only half aware of the voice in the radio, and you blindly reached for the button with shaky hands.

“H-help,” your voice was shaky, hoarse and so unlike yourself.

You couldn’t move, you couldn’t bring yourself to even reply again, even more aware of the pain now, barely keeping your head up and your eyes opened. Teary eyed, a distant, cold part of you knew it was over. It was over forever.

Then you blacked out.

-

“Sebastian, red flag, red flag,” His engineer called, as if he had not seen all the red flags throughout the circuit.

He drove back to the boxes, hopping off the car as he saw other drivers do the same, he marched into the Ferrari garage, worried.

“Is everyone okay? Who was it?” He asked, as he removed his helmet and balaclava.

The grief faces around him didn’t help, and Sebastian felt a sense of dread as he turned to the closest screen showing the live coverage of the race. The transmission was a helicopter shot of your car into the wall, or a better description would be two piles of wreckage of your car as the marshals rushed towards it. He felt like he could puke, despair spreading through his chest.

“What did she say? What happened?” He asked anyone willing to answer, his eyes glued to the screen. As if on cue, a replay of your crash played out on the screen.

“S-she asked for help. She didn’t reply again after that.” Someone said, somber, and a lump lodged in Sebastian’s throat.

He kept staring at the video, then a replay of your radio also came through, the despair as you realized you had no brakes, the urgency in your engineer’s voice as he asked you to try other means. And the faint “Help” you said after one of the ugliest crashes Sebastian had ever seen. He had never been a religious guy, but at that moment, he prayed. His eyes glued to the screen as the marshals started removing pieces surrounding you and the car, and the ambulance arrived. They started checking you and were about to pull you out of the wreckage.

Then, the cameras were cut off, showing the drivers and everyone in the garages. Sebastian knew that for the transmission to stop showing, it meant the crash was really bad, it meant that however they were pulling you out, it was ugly. Sebastian felt a shiver up his spine as he thought about the possibility they were removing your dead body from there.

With that, he marched out of the Ferrari garage and towards RB, and he found other drivers were already making their way there too, everyone desperate for any news. A few minutes later it was reported that you had been taken by helicopter to the nearest hospital. Sebastian breathed again as they reported you were alive, but unconscious.

The race was interrupted officially a few minutes later, Sebastian and Lewis along with a few other drivers were still waiting by the Red Bull garage for more news on you. Slowly, everyone was sent away when the news came from the hospital that you were hurt, but not in a life threatening situation and you’d stay in the hospital for observation.

That was when Sebastian finally left, a little shaken as he went through his post race duties.

The following morning, after a tossing and turning almost sleepless night, the official representatives confirmed that you were alright but had unfortunately fractured a leg, and would not take part in the remaining two races of the season.

Even after he got news on you, and there was this sense of relief that you’d recover, the knot in his stomach remained, his gut saying that something was off. But he brushed it off, thinking it was just lingering anxiety from the accident.

He wanted to talk to you, see you. He got your number from Lewis and texted you but you never replied and he kept trying. A few days later, Lewis commented with him that you hadn’t replied to his text either. And later they found out you actually had not replied to any of the drivers or anyone from the Formula 1 teams.

After Abu Dhabi, when the season ended, he got a hold of your manager, leaving an office in the Red Bull garage. He stopped her, gently taking a hold of her arm.

“How’s she doing? Do you have any news on her?” He pressed.

“She’s alright, still recovering.”

“Why hasn’t she answered her phone?”

“She’s recovering and took a break from social media and the internet, so she hasn’t been able to communicate well. I’m sure once she’s fully recovered she’ll get back to you.”

“Do you have a home telephone, e-mail or even an address where we can reach her? See her?” He asked, almost desperate.

“I’m sorry. Just give her some time, I’m sure she will come around.”

With that, your manager left quickly, holding a small stack of files with both hands, the “classified” stamp boldly branding it. Sebastian kept trying to contact you, failing miserably each time.

When the Prize Giving ceremony came, he was bouncing with nervous energy, hoping and praying he would get to see you again. If anything, just to know you’re really okay and well. You didn’t show up to the ceremony, but suddenly you were awarded the Personality of the Year award.

Then, your face showed up on the big screen, and Sebastian felt his breath stuck in his throat. It was a simple, regular video of you, you were wearing a pretty dress and your hair was in an up-do. Your face had makeup like you always wore in these kinds of events, pretty eyes and big lashes, and a scarlet lipstick. Your face looked healthy, despite your eyes lacking its usual brightness.

“Hi, everyone!” Came your recorded voice with a smile, “It’s such an honor to receive this award. Thank you to everyone who voted for me and congratulations to all other drivers on the season. I’m well and recovering, and I’m grateful for all the well wishes all of you sent me these past weeks, I truly appreciate them.” Your smile faded almost imperceptibly, but Sebastian noticed as you inhaled softly, like you were resigned to something, “I will take this opportunity to let you know that I’m retiring from Formula 1 from now on. I’m grateful for all the opportunities, all the dreams achieved and the amazing people I got to know and work with. Thank you very much.”

As the video cut off, there was a stunned silence since absolutely no one saw that coming. No one expected you to announce your retirement like this. So suddenly, especially considering you had one more year of contract with your team. And you were also very young, just 28.

The event went on but Sebastian couldn’t move on from your video, from seeing your face and hearing your voice again. He went through the motions for the rest of the night, and at some point, Lewis stopped him to chat about how glad he was that you looked healthy. But Sebastian couldn’t shake off that pit in his stomach.

The following week, once he was done with his postseason duties, he called Lewis and a couple of the drivers you were the closest with. Still, none of them had any news on you, no text, no calls, nothing. He went digging further and found out you lived in Monte Carlo, in the same building as a few other drivers. Desperate for anything he went there personally to look for you. After giving your name and being recognized, the staff member checked on their computer for a moment.

“Unfortunately, she moved out of this building around a week ago.”

“What…?” Sebastian whispered to himself, shocked, “S-she… um, do you know if she moved to another place here in Monaco? Or she moved to another country or something?”

“I don’t have that information, sir,” the woman replied, looking at him with a smile apologetically.

Sebastian nodded and left, helpless.

Time went on, the world spun, and he never heard about you again. The holidays came and went, and a new season started. People still spoke about you, whispers about your retirement and the accident, many conspiracies theories about why you had disappeared. But oddly enough, the FIA and the F1 representatives never spoke much about you.

Not seeing you again was eating him alive, especially whenever he remembered the last time you had talked, the promise of a future that never came. One time, he went to the Red Bull to try and get any information about you. He kept bothering the staff for months, everyone including Christian, who was the one to put a firm stop to his nonsense of bothering the team’s staff about you.

“I need to talk to her, it’s important,” Sebastian pleaded.

“Have you considered that maybe she doesn’t want to be bothered? That she doesn’t want to speak with you or anyone for that matter?” Christian said, “This stops now, Sebastian. Stop bothering my team about this or I’ll have to go to Todt.”

Sebastian deflated, feeling defeated, only nodded, walking away.

He still talked about you on occasion, mentioning a battle in passing, or whenever the only woman to win a Formula 1 championship was mentioned. Sometimes he hoped you were watching, that you could see the longing in his eyes, that you’d feel something and reach out to him. And then later, he felt silly, stupid for wishing so.

Late at night, he stared at the ceiling, trying to commit to memory everything that had ever happened between you. The fights, the shouts but even more the chats, the making love and the silly conversations you two had late at night, your naked bodies covered by a thin blanket as you chatted about anything and everything. He always thought about your hands mindlessly drawing on his skin, you two drifting off to sleep, and then one of you sneaking out in the middle of the night. No goodbyes to make it easier.

And now the lack of goodbyes felt like an open wound for him.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five years passed and Sebastian believed he had learned to deal with your absence, with the lack of closure. But it was a lie he kept telling himself, even if every year, he kept trying your phone number, your email, sending texts and notes, until your phone number was discontinued and probably sold again, for a new owner and your email stopped receiving and his letters would not go through. He never changed his own number, expecting you to eventually call.

When he announced his retirement, a small part of him hoped you’d reach out once you got the news. You never did.

After his announcement, he decided to resort to desperate measures and hired a private investigator. And finally, after a couple months since the end of his last season, he got news on you.

Ben, his P.I., got an image of you in a café in a quaint little town, you sitting down, sipping some coffee and reading a book. The image was a little blurry, probably taken from a long distance, but it looked like you.

Now, Sebastian was retired and had free time, and he immediately packed a suitcase and went to the town. He arrived there on a friday morning, and after checking in at a small but comfortable inn, he went straight to the café. Ben had told him the photo was taken in the late morning, so since very early, he went to the café and decided to wait for you. Ordering a coffee and a muffin, he waited.

And waited. And waited.

Hours and hours and a bunch of coffees and muffins later, the staff were looking at him strangely, and one of the ladies looked at him with pity, warning they were about to close.

“Were you waiting for someone, boy?” She asked.

“Yes, uh- a friend,” He sighed, standing up. He said your name, and the woman seemed to recognize the name, “She’s this tall,” He gestured, showing your height, and gave a brief physical description of you, and the woman nodded.

“I know her! Very sweet but also a bit stubborn.”

“I thought I might find her here, but…” He shrugged, giving his best puppy look to the older woman.

It didn’t take much for the woman to give him your address, and despite the urge to go straight there, Sebastian knew it was late, signaled by the café closing and he knew small towns like this usually went to sleep early. So he went to the inn, taking a shower and going to bed, trying to sleep, trying to get to the following day.

But his racing heart was making it impossible to sleep, and he laid on the bed, thinking of you, going in and off sleep, dreaming of you.

In the morning, he had breakfast and went to your address in a moment that wasn’t too early in the morning. Your house was a medium sized family looking home, cozy, a big front and backyard. It looked like somewhere to have a family in and to grow old.

He walked up to your porch, drying his hands on his jeans and before he could hesitate, he rang the doorbell.

He wondered if you would welcome him, at least as a friend. His nerves wondered if you had gotten married, had a family, and he was just a pathetic and creepy guy for never moving on from you. He wondered if-

You opened the door, freezing the moment your eyes met his. Sebastian looked at your face, still as stunning as ever, showing small signs of aging, but they suited your face beautifully. Your hair was longer, natural, and your face looked healthy, with a beautiful sunny hue to it.

“Principessa”

“Sebastian…” You said, shocked, “What- How…?”

“Can I come in?” He asked. You nodded, awkwardly scooting away from the doorway so he could come inside.

“I- do you want some tea?” You offered, unsure of how to feel with his presence so out of the blue.

“Yeah,” He nodded, following you inside and sitting on an armchair as you signaled him to. A small teapot on the coffee table between you, “I’ve been looking for you. Why did you disappear?” He asked, his voice almost tinged with despair.

You tried to think of what to say for a moment, pouring two mugs of tea to gather your thoughts, to grapple with the fact that Sebastian Vettel, your rival, lover and friend was there, suddenly, after five long years.

“What happened to you?” He asked again, his voice almost in pain.

“That crash happened…” You said, hands around the warm mug.

“It was worse than they made it seem, wasn’t it?” Sebastian said, a knowing look on his face when you nodded, getting up and slowly walking to a drawer on your bookshelf, he noticed how you favored one leg. You pulled a file from the drawer and walked back to the couch, handing it to him.

Silently, Sebastian opened the file, going through medical reports of you, all dated back to five years ago on that fateful night. You looked like you were avoiding looking at the files, busying yourself with preparing tea for the both of you. Sebastian read through the papers, and what caught his eyes were an x-ray of your knee, the one you were limping now, and a transverse fracture of your spine.

“Oh, my god…” Sebastian whispered, horrified. He stopped on a picture of you laying in a hospital bed, eyes red and puffy from crying that weren’t the main focus of the image, instead it was your knee, immobilized, held in place by a lot of metal pins, “What did they do to you…?”

“The crash, it bursted my knee. I almost lost my leg… Fracture, torn ligament, it was hanging by a thread. And my spine, a fracture that could’ve hindered me to a wheelchair for the rest of my life. It was brutal, my knee took the brunt of the impact, and my back was the split car…” You explained, almost robotically, like you had rehearsed that speech, your eyes were wet as you fought the tears, “They said I was lucky. Lucky I didn’t lose a leg, lucky I didn’t end up paraplegic…” You sighed, swallowing the tears, “They said I could never go back to a racing car again, because the G Forces could put too much strain on my injuries, not to mention, if I injured these two spots again, it would be risking more permanent damages. I was lucky I pulled through.”

There was bitterness in your voice, and how could you not feel bitter about that? How could you not feel angry and sad and mourn the life you once had. A life where racing had been everything to you.

“I’m so sorry,” Sebastian reached for your hand, his expression completely crestfallen, “We had seen how that car was completely unreliable, how sometimes it worked and sometimes it was a hazard to you. I never thought it could end this badly…”

“And… I’m sorry I disappeared. I know you tried contacting me for a while, but… I just couldn’t see anything related to Formula 1. I couldn’t be near all that without feeling a gut wrenching pain, without feeling anger for anything related to motorsports… I just had to get away from all that.” You explained, looking lost and Sebastian could understand your pain. Despite the times he felt angry and sad for your disappearance, now that he knew about your reason to leave completely… he understood, “I’m sorry. I know you and some other drivers tried reaching out, but I just… I wasn’t in the right mind.”

“I understand. I can’t even imagine what you went through…” he said, his voice so understanding that a lump lodged into your throat, “how was recovery?”

“About a couple of years between the back fracture and the knee… A few surgeries, lots of physiotherapy. Lots of pain and sleepless nights…”

“Did you think about fighting, suing…?” He asked softly.

“I did… I was so angry. I wanted to sue all of them, the team, the FIA, the president. But then…” You paused for a second, “It’d drag out for god knows how long, they would surely bring all the weapons, smear campaigns, defamation, and… My image as a driver, as a person, would just be even more exploited. And I was so tired, I just wanted to heal away from all that.”

“I was so worried for a while. One day I saw your manager leaving the Red Bull hospitality…”

“There was a deal. They offered me an absurd amount of money for me to not sue them, to not bring to light what happened. They also paid for all my medical bills. I also made sure they would review the safety regulations, so no driver would have to risk their life like that again. And I know you’ll say it’s not fair, that they got away with it, but… I was just so tired. I spent my whole life playing a role, being the image they wanted… that tragic ending to my career was all I got? I genuinely wanted to disappear for the longest time after that,” You said, voice cracking for a moment, “Racing was my driving force and suddenly it was ripped away from me.”

“I wish I could’ve been there for you.” He whispered, which made your eyes water for a bit, but you looked at the ceiling, willing the tears away.

“I was a mess, there would be nothing you could do for me…” You said with a devastatingly sad little smile, “And I kept myself completely blocked from Formula 1.”

“Do you still feel pain?” He asked suddenly after a few seconds of silence.

“Physically?” You shook your head, “Sometimes a little discomfort when I’m in places where the weather is very cold.”

“And emotionally?” He whispered and you looked away, swallowing.

“You’re a racer, you can imagine…” That’s all you said.

Sebastian nodded softly, he couldn’t imagine being stopped from doing the one thing he loved the most right in his prime, in the heights of his career like you. And in one fleeting moment having that all stripped away. Your ability to do what you trained your whole life for.

“How-” He cleared his throat, deciding to change topics, “How are you living here? Enjoying?”

“Yeah, lots of free time and new hobbies…” You said, looking grateful for the change in topic, “Wanna see my garden?”

“Sure,” he nodded and you both stood up, he let you lead, his eyes dropping to your slight limp, and the constant sound of the cane hitting the floor with your steps.

You took him around your garden, where there were plants, flowers and even a small cultivation of vegetables. Everything was well cared for and groomed, there was even a small greenhouse where you guided him inside. He could barely look away from your face, your pretty eyes, your lovely lips and beautiful face that only got prettier with time.

“And here…” You stopped inside the greenhouse, “Some plants that are a little more sensitive… Tomatoes, some strawberries…” You grabbed a small clipper and handed him a fresh strawberry.

He stared at you, a silly smile on his face, watching as you grabbed a strawberry and took a small bite, the juices coating your lips in a pinkish color. His eyes dropped to your hand, noticing the absence of a wedding ring, or an engagement ring.

“Do you have a significant other?” He asked, interrupting your ramble for a moment, which made you blink, blushing slightly.

“No, I-” You paused, timid, “No…”

He walked closer, entering your personal space, his hand on your jaw, holding gently, his thumb slowly wiping the leftover strawberry juice on your lower lip.

You looked at him, tempted, looking like you wanted to risk everything. But then you scolded your face, walking away from him and back to your house. He just followed you, until you two were back in your living room. He went after you, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Sebastian,” you sighed, unsure of what to say.

“What about us?” he asked, and there was so much unsaid, but you didn’t need words when you could see it all in his eyes.

And despite wanting so badly to give in, to give a real shot to something you never got the chance to explore, you also knew you were still a mess, and being away from Formula 1 for so long, you didn’t want to bring back all the bad feelings you had regarding it. It would put an even bigger strain on you two.

Things were so complicated now, you didn’t tell him you never stopped thinking about him. That you were haunted by what-ifs, that you would have vivid dreams of a family and a future with him. You didn’t tell him about all the sweaty nights when the memories of your shared passion kept you awake. And you didn’t tell him the last thing you saw before passing out after the crash were his shiny blue eyes.

“I’ve been away from motorsports for so long, and I don’t know if-”

“I retired. Last year,” He interrupted you, “and it won’t matter to us. We have so much else to explore…”

“Sebastian… I’m a mess. I look okay now, but I still have bad days. Awful days. And it’s ugly.” You said, voice clipped. Like you weren’t allowing yourself to want, to just take a leap and do what you have yearned for so long.

“I don’t care, don’t you see that I lo-”

“You need to go,” You said walking to the door to open it, as Sebastian paused like a dejavú, “Leave, Sebastian.”

He swallowed, remembering that time you said the exact same words that sent him away. That time he did exactly that, respecting your wishes instead of his own. Gulping, Sebastian took a step forward and turned around on your porch, walking away. He stopped midway to his car, looking over his shoulder. You were still rooted to the spot, watching him. He looked down at his own feet.

“Fuck it,” He muttered under his breath.

He marched back, long strides up to your porch, so fast that you could barely register when he wrapped his arms around you and picked you up in a hug, his face nuzzled into your neck, breathing in.

“No,” he whispered against your skin, “I’m not letting you go again. Ever.”

And then finally, finally, you hugged him back, tightly around his neck silently because there was no need for words, a silent understanding of finding each other again. Of having someone like him, who fought for you, to find you even when you thought you shouldn’t be found. When you broke the hug, Sebastian held your face with both hands, his thumb gently wiping the tears you had shed during the hug.

“I love you, Principessa.”

“Even now? Even after all this time?” You asked, voice shaky but your eyes with a glimmer of hope.

“Even after all this time,” He nodded, blue eyes shining in happiness, a barely contained smile on his face.

“I love you too, by the way,” You said, shyly and hiding your face into his chest.

“No, that won’t do,” He laughed, a playful cocky chuckle, “I need you to look me in the eyes when you say it,” He tangled his fingers on your hair at the nape, tugging gently so he could make you look up at him, when you did, there was this playful look in his face and you almost melted right there.

“I love you, Sebastian,” You smiled, feeling silly. Sebastian nodded, leaning forward to peck your cheek, his lips slowly descending your jaw and neck.

“Let me stay,” He asked, his lips brushing your skin and making you shudder, closing your eyes.

“Only if you stay forever,” You smiled, and he started walking you backwards, entering your house again, his hands on your hips helping you stay up as he gently nipped your neck.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He said, kicking the door closed behind him, “You also owe me a date, Princess. Remember?” He gently laid you down on the sofa, slowly laying down on top of you, “And I intend to charge it, with all the interest fees…” He joked, pressing a soft kiss to your chin.

-----

TAGLIST: @ririgy @ironmaiden1313 @w4ltmeister @vellicora @hopefulsophie @chloeannabelle @rebelatbay @crashingwavesofeuphoria @zoeyjadetice2010

[heeseungiez]

RESOLUTION 1) actually enjoy a party...

pairings! lee heeseung x fem!reader, choi yeonjun x fem!reader briefly

synopsis! lee heeseung has known you your whole life. he has always kept you at an arm’s length due to his childhood pettiness after being forced to spend time with you as kids. but now that you were back in town, going to school again, he finds his resolve to dislike you at all costs crumbling between his fingers. as if it hadn’t always been chipping away throughout the years.

content warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), swearing, mentions of bullying, joking about past trauma to cope, angst, jealousy, kissing, fingering etc.

word count! ~5.4k

taglist! OPEN! @strxwbloody @starsenha

a/n! first two chapters are written so i think it's fair to post this... feel free to let me know what you think! i actually don't usually write smut so um... yeah

masterlist | next

Good morning, Decelis! Guess who’s back?

And no, I’m not talking about myself at the moment, but rather, a princess of a successful empire, and our beloved black sheep of the school. It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? In a place where money is power, she has none despite the billions she’s meant to inherit. Poor girl, wouldn’t you say?

But rumours have it that our princess is back from her prolonged summer break abroad, and she’s different than we remember.

It seems that the good girl image has been thrown to the wolves, and the princess is back with a bite of her own.

I’m most definitely looking forward to what this year brings us.

XO, Miss Decelis

You put down your phone with a grin, having read the Twitter post from your school’s infamous gossip blog. Very clearly inspired by Gossip Girl, it was the talk of Decelis Academy when the first post appeared out of nowhere, featuring a very, very popular boy from the upper year, calling out his blatant cheating on his incredibly attractive, and notoriously vengeful girlfriend.

This was the first time Miss Decelis had something nice to say about you, and you were currently hoping to milk the pity points for what happened last year. You were tired from the constant jabs at your lack of social skills and neverending embarrassment, making it known to all of your peers that you couldn’t do anything right.

Everything was different now. At least for you, things have changed since your trip to the USA, if you could even call it that. Since most of what you saw was the best rated rehabilitation centre in the world, trying to get your legs to work properly again after the incident that happened last year. (Good news: they succeeded.)

Who would’ve thought that pushing you into a pool at a party could cause such damage to your body? Your muscles tore with the abruptness of everything, your ankle catching on the edge of the pool and you found yourself paralysed from the waist down at the bottom of the pool afterwards, nearly drowning because people, for some reason, thought you were being dramatic for the sake of it. 

Your best friend, Lee Jeonghyeon, pulled you out once he found out what happened. And when you told him you couldn’t feel your legs, one of which was horribly bent and bruising, he screamed his lungs out to get someone to call you an ambulance. It was safe to say the party ended quickly afterwards.

You had to get surgery in the country, and then your parents decided it would be best for you to have your rehabilitation elsewhere. Far away from Decelis Academy. Since it happened a month before the term would’ve ended, you still had to do homework and assignments to finish your sophomore year, but at least it wasn’t around the people that ostracised you for whatever reason.

Originally, you were supposed to change schools. But the Decelis principal expelled the group that caused your injury because it was found out that (although you tried to keep it a secret for as long as possible) they had been bullying you for years. So yeah, you were back home and still attending Decelis Academy. 

You completely blocked out anything that was said between your father and the principal as they spoke in the office with you sitting on a chair behind them. It was business that you weren’t interested in, and they were mostly trying to figure out how to protect you from stuff like last year happening again. Yawning, you stretched your arms, wishing you could be in class instead.

“She will be monitored, in case something else were to happen, although I trust your daughter’s rehabilitation went without much as a single snatch.” The principal glanced at you while speaking to your father, his respect showing in his eyes, his straight posture and the voice in which he addressed the man standing before him.

Your father nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. If there are any issues, please let me know. And let everyone at the board as well as the parents know that anyone who will dare lay a finger on my daughter again will be sued for their entire fortune. The acts of her bullies were not harmless, and even if what happened was an accident, it was done with malicious intent.”

Well, that was exactly why you tried to keep the bullying a secret. But what’s done is done. You just wanted to get out of the principal’s office. 

“Good. There are more things we must discuss, but—”

You knew what that phrasing meant, already standing up with a smile. “I’ll go find my next class,” you said, cutting off your father. “Thanks for all the care and stuff, I’ll try to keep myself out of trouble and from, you know, looking weak and bully-able, whatever.”

Pretending not to care has become so easy for you lately that you internally cringed, seeing the pitying looks on the faces of both your father and the principal. You mostly ignored it. 

“Goodbye, Mr Jung. See you later, dad.”

But you didn’t leave the principal’s office until after receiving a kiss on your temple from your father, a sweet gesture to remind you that you were loved — at least by your parents. 

Lee Heeseung had known you his whole life. The two of you had known each other even before you were conceived, he’d say, and that annoyed him about you. That you were in every part of his life. Every memory, good and bad, every single one of his thoughts. Gods, you even lived in the same building as he did. So, you were always there, like a ghost haunting him for a mistake in his past life. So he avoided you whenever he could, unless it was necessary for him to be in your presence. Which was usually during any family functions because if the Lee family organised an event, then yours was the first on the list of invited guests. And if your family did, then his family was expected to show up no matter what.

Before Heeseung met Jay and Jake, it had always only been the two of you. So when you were children, he made sure to especially tease you, like pulling at your hair or eating the last cookie. It was his way of making sure you would stay away from him whenever he was with his other friends (none were people he really cared about, and although he still spoke to some of them, those friendships were distant memories). But he thought you were too much of a girl for him. While you played with dolls, he wanted to play with cars, and he was not going to let you rope him into role playing Barbie and Ken with you just because your face was cute with how round and rosy it was.

Then the two of you entered middle school at Decelis Academy, and Heeseung met Park Jay and Sim Jake. Both boys were from prominent families, and the friendship between the three helped all their companies bloom even more. But, of course, yours was always included as well.

It was only his luck that his cousin, Lee Jeonghyeon, moved in with him and his parents to attend Decelis Academy too. Which meant that you found a new friend, someone who actually wanted to hang out with you, while Heeseung was free to do whatever he wanted with his friends. And still, you never stopped trying to keep the conditions between you all amiable, even when they, especially Heeseung and Jay, were rude and dismissive of you.

Today, you strutted into Sociology class without as much as an apology to the teacher (a complete 180° from what you would’ve done last year) and went to sit down in the first available spot at the back of the class, which happened to be next to Heeseung. He rolled his eyes, debating whether he should push you off the chair because he’d fought really hard to keep the spot free. But when his eyes fell on your figure, he had a hard time peeling them off.

Miss Decelis was right. There was something different about you.

Normally, you would’ve sat at the front of the class. Not just because you were a teacher’s pet, but also because you used to wear glasses and it was better for your vision to be at the front. Your glasses were gone, though.

You didn’t as much as glance at Heeseung as you sat down, not even gracing him with your acknowledgement despite sitting next to him. You used to do everything in your power to get his attention (which he thought was cute but that made him dislike you more) because you thought you two should get along as your families worked so closely together, not to mention you lived in a penthouse at his family’s hotel, the same one he lived in.

He shuffled in his seat to sit straighter, leaning on the desk in an attempt to get you to look at him. But you didn’t. So he stared at you intently, noticing every detail about this new you that was back from America.

Your hair was cut shorter, messier, and framed your face perfectly as opposed to the girlish bangs you used to have. Even your makeup was bolder, wings lining your eyes, accentuating their shape. No longer were you following the country’s beauty trends, and it suited you more.

So he continued staring at you even when you opened your textbook and started taking notes with the teacher speaking in the background. He didn’t care for the class much, especially because he could buy notes off of someone from the upper year and then spend a fortnight cramming before an exam and still pass with top-performing grades.

You ignored Heeseung for as long as you could until it became unbearably uncomfortable to have his eyes permanently stuck to you. The way you interpreted the look, it made you feel like you were a fly he was watching to later swat once the perfect moment appeared. An indignant huff left your lips as you spoke: “Do you want to lose your eyes?” Your brow rose, but you did not look at him. Even as you gripped your pen tighter, truly considering putting it to a use much different than what it’s intended for.

The corner of Heeseung’s mouth rose in a silent victory because you finally decided to acknowledge him. “You could try, but I doubt you’d get away with it,” he replied. 

“I would,” you mumbled. “I’d get out of it unscathed because of my current frail mental state and my pity points with the principal.” Despite the lie, you spoke matter-of-factly. “So don’t test me.”

“So you’re saying you’ve gone crazy?”

“Perhaps.”

“Is it enough to go to a party this weekend?” Heeseung asked sweetly, leaning closer to you, but it was him who ended up disconcerted when you turned your head. Your noses touched, and you pushed him away by poking his chest. 

“You’re really asking me to go to a party after what happened last time?”

“Nobody’s gonna try to hurt you if you’re with me,” Heeseung said with certainty, but you squinted your eyes at the statement. For two reasons in total. One, he was among the most popular guys at Decelis Academy, so going with him meant antagonising at least half of the school; and two, why was he asking you to go to the party with him?

“Of all the people at this school, your pity is the one I need the least,” you scoffed, shaking your head. “We’ve never been friends before, Heeseung, so let’s not pretend we are friends now.”

Heeseung furrowed his brows at you. “This isn’t about pity—”

“What else would it be about? You don’t like me, and I’m tired, okay? I get it, and I’m not gonna bother your stupid I’m-better-than-thou self anymore. You were right, Heeseung. Just because our families are close, we don’t need to be.” You shut him up, turning away from him to bring your attention back to the lecture.

Heeseung gaped at you, blinking a few times to comprehend your rejection properly. But this was never about pity. It was about your attention, and how much he wanted to have it now that you were back.

But he couldn’t exactly tell you that he missed your stupid little face whenever there was a family function during the summer, could he? You were the girl he knew since the day you were born, and the last thing he wanted to face was the simple fact that he didn’t, in fact, dislike you. 

Despite rejecting Heeseung’s offer to go with him, you did turn up to the party. It was easy to find out that Yang Jeongin was throwing one alongside Seo Changbin, since it seemed that Changbin’s family was away on a business trip. So you dressed up and went to the Seo family mansion with Jeonghyeon, your best friend and neighbour, and Park Hanbin at your side. 

The dress you wore today was thin and far more revealing than what you would’ve worn last year, but this was all a part of your plan for this following year. You had a bunch of resolutions for your junior year and onward that you wanted to fulfil as fast as possible, all of which would help you live a life worthy of being spoken about on Miss Decelis, rather than being constantly humiliated by your lack of… living.

Today, Miss Decelis reported on seeing Park Jay and his new fling — an older woman possibly twice his age — leaving a motel together. That was the kind of life you wanted to lead, instead of the perfect princess with a spotless past who didn’t even fight back against her bullies.

So the first resolution you had was to attend a party and actually enjoy being there. In the past, you always attended because your friends would. Since you didn’t drink, you were the person who looked after everyone.

“Look, Ning and Winter are there,” Hanbin pointed toward the two girls, and you grinned, making your way toward them.

“Hi!” you greeted them.

“Hey, girl! You look scrumptious,” Ning remarked, eyeing your outfit with a smirk. “I’m really liking this new you. Are you trying to get on Miss Decelis tonight or what?”

You shrugged, a hint of a smile on your lips. “It certainly wouldn’t hurt. As long as it’s not something commemorating what happened to me at my last party, or… anything before, really.”

“It’s been shit these past few years,” said Winter, earning hums of agreement. “I’d rather never appear on Miss Decelis unless she has something good to say. I mean, we’re not even men, so we can’t just walk around like everything is fine after hooking up with someone the age of our mother…” Winter rolled her eyes, referencing the last post about Jay.

“Lucky you, then. Miss Decelis has never said anything bad about you. At least not something that wasn’t true,” you said matter-of-factly, well versed in the posts of the gossip monger. Although, in your opinion, Winter led an exciting life, it was never out of line enough to be reported on.

Winter giggled. “True.”

“And Jeonghyeon is a beloved hero now,” you added with a nod toward your best friend. It was a bit of a stretch, but he was viewed as someone swoon-worthy after pulling you out of the pool and saving your life. Miss Decelis surely made it sound like it before last school year ended.

He frowned, not liking the reminder of what had happened. It affected him more than you, clearly, the idea of losing you over someone thinking that pushing you into a pool would be a harmless enough prank. You shouldn’t be joking about it, yet it was your coping mechanism. The more jokes you made, the less real it became, and the less it hurt. 

“I’m never leaving your side,” he grumbled, interlocking your arm with his.

“Please do,” you said, trying to shake him off, but he didn’t let go. “Hyeon, I’ll be fine. I’m serious.” You glared at him, yanking your arm from his grip the more he tried to keep you in place.

“Dude, let her go.” It was Hanbin who spoke, sensing your discomfort. “We’re all worried for her, but this isn’t doing her any favours.”

Ning and Winter nodded as well. “We’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” they said, but it was hard to keep a promise when all of you planned to drink the night away.

Two hours in, you were already spent and dizzy. But you were giggling, and couldn’t say that you weren’t enjoying yourself. Especially the attention you got from people who couldn’t stop staring at you and the piece of fabric that mostly covered only your important parts.

A year ago, you were weighed down by the chains of responsibility, drowning you the same way the water had at the bottom of the pool. You couldn’t even allow yourself to enjoy the smallest things back then in fear of being judged. This time, if someone bullies you, you will be sure to hit back. And you’re going to hit back hard.

The sofa dipped with a new weight upon it, and you turned to face a familiar face. Someone you had come across in America a few times and had pleasant interactions with (if you could call it that).

Choi Yeonjun looked magnificent even with his cheeks flushed red, his hair dishevelled and eyes dazed. His pouty lips were captured in between his teeth, and you grinned at him when he cuddled up to you. “Hello,” he mumbled against the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Hey.” You shifted in your seat, simply to make both of you rest comfortably on the sofa. “Haven’t seen your face in a while,” you said, and he hummed, looking into your eyes.

“You took my advice,” he remarked, and you knew what he meant by it. 

The change of your hairstyle, your general clothing preferences and view of life wasn’t just something you came up with on your own. Because when you had seen Yeonjun the last time, before he had to leave, he told you that you should live your life a little. Stop pretending to be perfect, and start being your authentic self — the version of you he had met in the States. The version of you that you wanted to be rather than a version that society wanted you to be. 

“Very wise advice,” you agreed with a grin.

“I always know what’s up,” he grinned back at you, his arms snaking around your waist, seeking the warmth of your body in the most innocent way possible, though it could be easily misinterpreted. But you and Yeonjun were friends (question mark?). 

Friends who may have kissed, but friends regardless. 

“Where’s your friends?” you asked Yeonjun, running your hand through his hair to tame it. It was surprisingly soft, but that was perhaps a perk of expensive hair care. 

“Playing beer-pong,” he answered, purring like a cat as you continued playing with his hair. “Taehyun is playing against Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai, trying to get the three of them drunk, since they actually suck ass at beer pong.” You yelped when Yeonjun moved suddenly to lift your legs and put them over his lap. “I was supposed to be on Taehyun’s team but it was more fair without me.”

“That bad?” You could barely breathe with how close Yeonjun was to you. In your mind, you two were friends, but you didn’t actually know how he viewed you. You were never adept at interacting with guys beyond the realm of platonic relationships.

Yeonjun hummed. “I don’t like feeling left out but… I guess I wouldn’t have known you’re here otherwise.”

“Well, there is a lot of people. And this is a huge house,” you said breathlessly when Yeonjun’s hands slipped underneath your dress through the back, caressing your skin with tenderness you had only read about before.

Had you mentioned your second resolution of the year earlier? The fact that you wanted to lose your virginity?

Choi Yeonjun seemed like the perfect candidate for making it happen. But you also couldn’t deny the fact that you were drunk, and he was probably even worse off.

Still, you couldn’t resist the urge to slip your hands beneath his loose T-shirt, exploring his toned stomach. You were sure he had once boasted to you about having his own gym at home. 

Yeonjun looked up at you with his eyes open wide, and his pupils dilated. 

It was you who asked, “Can I kiss you?” But it was him who closed the distance between the two of you, Yeonjun’s mouth expertly dancing alongside yours. 

This kiss was different to the ones you shared in America. Those were small, fleeting kisses stolen in moments of peace, where the both of you wanted to sear the memories into your brains. But this kiss was hungry, full of heat you’ve never let yourself feel before. Yeonjun grabbed at every part of you in an attempt to bring you closer, while you let him, well aware that everyone could see you, but you didn’t care. Not anymore, anyway.

It was his advice you were following, after all.

“Yeonjun,” you spoke, trying to catch your breath. 

“Yeah?” The boy was merciful enough to let you breathe, choosing to attack your neck instead, leaving sloppy kisses along the sensitive skin. You moaned when he bit an especially tender spot, and he smirked against your skin. 

“I need—” 

Yeonjun silenced you with his lips on yours, not letting you finish the sentence. Instead, his hand moved up your thigh, massaging a spot not close enough to where you really wanted his hand to be. “Not here, darling,” he whispered in your ear before helping you stand up.

Taking your hand, Yeonjun knew exactly where the two of you would need to go to get some well-earned privacy. If it wasn’t for the storm of a person right in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, nearly fuming. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” The question wasn’t aimed at you. As if you didn’t have a mind of your own and you weren’t capable of making your own decisions.

Yeonjun glanced between you and the tall boy who stepped in your way. “That’s the guy who’s been ignoring you your whole life, right?” he said, knowing that the comment hurt Heeseung more than it did you. Because while you came to terms with it, Heeseung was just starting to feel guilty about it. He bristled, not liking that Yeonjun even knew this much about you.

“Get out of the way, Heeseung,” you said evenly, though anger easily washed over you. How dare he, the well-known fuck boy of Decelis Academy, cockblock you?

“No.” Heeseung shook his head, grabbing your hand.

You didn’t even realise it when he pulled you to himself and started dragging you away from Yeonjun. By the time you tried to fight him on it, you were losing Yeonjun in the crowd, and Heeseung’s grip on you was strong enough to bruise, so attempting to get out of his grasp would do more harm than good.

“Are you crazy? What the fuck are you doing? Heeseung!” you shouted over the music as he dragged you through the mansion like a doll until the both of you were out of the house, at the empty front yard. “Heeseung!”

He didn’t respond to you until he opened the door to a car that was not his, but he had access to it. He practically pushed you inside the vehicle without as much as a word, trapping you inside with him.

“What’s your fucking problem?” you spat venomously, facing him in the back of the car. It was dark and you could barely see anything besides the outline of Heeseung’s figure. A very tall and attractive figure with broad shoulders that, because of your moment with Yeonjun, made you think things you should not be having about Lee Heeseung.

“Are you insane? Hooking up with Choi Yeonjun?” He finally spoke up. His voice was deeper, a near growl, and you scoffed at his hypocrisy.

“So what? I like him,” you said, crossing your arms. “I’m not the same person I used to be and I’m not going back. So whatever your deal is, leave me the fuck out.”

Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he stared at you, completely oblivious to the unreasonable amounts of jealousy rushing through his system. He, of all people, should care about who you hook up with the least, and yet here he was, having trapped you inside Sunghoon’s car to keep you away from Yeonjun, who clearly wanted to take everything you had to offer. He had watched you from a distance, longer than he should’ve, and he hated the way he wished to be in Yeonjun’s place.

“I was the one who told you about this party.” He glared at you, and your stupidly attractive face, incapable of deciding whether doing this was a good idea or not. Because he didn’t just trap you with him. He trapped himself with you.

“So what? I just wanted to enjoy myself for once, for fuck’s sake. Is that such a crime?” You reciprocated Heeseung’s glare, your cheeks flushed and body hot despite the chilly temperature inside the car. You wanted to jump him. Whether to kill him or to finally have your brains fucked out of you, you weren’t sure.

“Yes, yes it is,” Heeseung replied, licking his lips. “Because it’s not with me.”

The latter.

It was most certainly the latter.

The hate coursing through you charged your oncoming actions, and you cupped Heeseung’s cheeks in your hands, bringing his plush lips to yours, making him the second guy you’ve kissed, ever, and the second guy today. It occurred to you that you really did not even care who you lost your virginity to.

Heeseung was as good as anyone else.

A part of you didn’t expect him to kiss you back, but you were pleasantly surprised when he did, his hands moving to your waist. Bringing you closer to him, he let his hands wander further than Yeonjun’s did, swallowing the gasp that left your lips as he swiped his fingers across your clothed and very wet cunt. It drove him crazy, not knowing whether it was him who had that effect on you, or if it had been Yeonjun, but he’d do better not to dwell on it. 

Heeseung was going to be the one ultimately helping you enjoy yourself. He would make sure of it, claiming the moment for himself. Claiming you for himself because he couldn’t bear the thought of you vying for anyone’s attention but his.

It had always been you and him. You were his as much as he was yours, no matter how much he had fought the fact in the past. 

Pushing the clothing piece aside, he let his thumb slide across your clit, driving a moan out of you. Heat enveloped you with the sudden rush of pleasure, your back arching to give him better access. Your hands raked through Heeseung’s hair as his mouth travelled to your throat, kissing all the same spots Yeonjun had earlier, except unlike Yeonjun, Heeseung sucked on the spots with enough fervour to mark, knowing you would have to spend weeks covering those up.

Heeseung’s thumb circled your clit, enjoying every single sound that left your mouth, including the hazed “Heeseung, yes,” and “Heeseung, please.” Until he pushed his fingers between your folds, trying to find the spot that would drive you over the edge. He had no idea how addictive it would be to hear you whispering his name like a prayer to a God, but here he was, listening to it all.

He curled his fingers when he found it, and you cried out his name, which died on your lips as he kissed you again, fingers still pumping in and out of you. 

“Heeseung, oh my god,” you murmured against his lips as he assuredly drove you to your climax. Heat pooled through your tummy in the most delicious way possible, and you moved your hips in rhythm with the thrusts of his fingers while he kept attacking your clit with the circular movements of his thumb.

“Yeah, princess, just let it out,” Heeseung said huskily, using the pet name that was usually reserved for his taunts rather than this. “You make the sweetest sounds,” he whispered in your ear, latching his lips onto your collarbone. A strap of your dress fell, partially revealing your breasts. Something that Heeseung took advantage of, his lips wandering lower.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so—” close, you wanted to say, but an entirely different sound — one that Heeseung wanted to bottle up and listen to forever — left your mouth when you felt Heeseung’s warm mouth around one of your nipples. 

“Fuck, Hee!” you screamed, your body trembling as you finally reached your climax, cumming all over Heeseung’s fingers. He continued his movements even as you rode out your high, and when he wanted to kiss you again, he took a moment to appreciate the relaxed look on your face. Something very rare from a person who used to forbid themselves from having fun.

See, Heeseung didn’t dislike you.

He just liked you more than he wanted to admit.

The sound of the car's unlocking beep pulled the two of you apart, much to both your discontent. But it wasn’t hard to school your expression back into one of hatred as you looked back at Heeseung while his friends filed inside the car. You crossed your arms and legs, turning away from him.

“We’re taking you home, apparently,” said Park Sunghoon with a smile on his face because he’d always been the one guy in the group who genuinely seemed to get along with you. He was the designated driver, but you guessed that had something to do with him being an athlete on a scholarship. 

Park Jay took the passenger seat next to Sunghoon, and when Sim Jake got inside, he made you sit in the middle between him and Heeseung. You were glad you could blame the flush on your cheeks on alcohol. 

“Hey, Y/N, I had no clue you were at the party!” Jake’s bright voice forced you to look at him. His blond hair was styled out of his face, and you couldn’t help but think that it suited him. You still wondered if he had dyed it over the summer because of a dare, or simply because he wanted to.

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s a good thing,” you mumbled, trying to make yourself smaller as you felt Heeseung’s heat against your skin. “Means nobody tried to drown me in the pool or anything.”

“Don’t fucking joke about that, Y/N.” Jay’s sharp voice cut through the air like a knife, making you straighten in your seat, your eyes wide in surprise.

“Why can’t I? You don’t even care.” You rolled your eyes, and Jay turned in his seat to look at you, his eyes scrutinising every part of you. Clearly, he didn’t expect to see what he did, and his gaze went back to the front of the car in an instant. 

“Whatever,” he said.

“Your strap is falling off,” Heeseung whispered in your ear.

“Who did that?” Jake added as well, pointing at the marks on your neck that were starting to colour. 

And you bashfully corrected your dress, looking away from Heeseung. “It was Yeonjun,” you lied easily, feeling Heeseung tense next to you.

“Ah, so that’s why we’re taking you home…” Sunghoon spoke knowingly, when in reality, he didn’t know anything. 

“Yeah. That’s why,” you echoed.

Good morning, Decelis! 

It seems a lot has happened this weekend. I heard that our little princess has truly begun evolving! Like a caterpillar finally turning into a butterfly.

Rumours have it, she got freaky on Seo Changbin’s sofa with none other than Choi Yeonjun. 

Or are those considered rumours if there’s video proof?

XO, Miss Decelis

[controlmyfeet]

i still feel everything when you are near - matty healy

matty healy x ex!reader

angst

warnings: exes, alcohol consumption, insecurities, jealousy (kinda?), pining, kissing, crying (lmk if there’s more i need to add!)

a/n: not sure about this. i think the last time i tried to write fanfiction i was 13, so feedback is appreciated but pls be nice lol. also, english is not my first language!

3570 words

it still hurts. 

i didn't think it would hurt as much after 6 months, but seeing him in the flesh makes me realize it does. i thought i was already used to it, thought i was actually doing a good job moving on, if we ignore my slump in the first 3 weeks after the breakup, where i would just leave the house for work and groceries (that i would overbuy because i forgot i'd just cook for myself), i think i was doing pretty okay.

i should've guessed he would be in the city. he can't stay in one place for too long; if he has a few days free in between shows, he's going to look for a studio to work in. usually in london, los angeles, or here. most of the time, he ends up here.

but i never know where he is anymore.

i deleted twitter from my phone after 2 months. maybe because of the questions, perhaps because i didn't care, or maybe i was tired of reading all the tabloids and fearing they were true. maybe i care too much. whatever, right? it just means i haven't seen him in a while, even in pictures.

i'm sitting by the dark wooden bar counter when i first spot him. he's standing with charli and george in the vip section near the dj booth, surrounded by people as always. my friends noticed that he's here too, but they haven't said anything, which i'm grateful for. i'd rather pretend it doesn't affect me.

he looks different, though. his arms are bigger, and his hair is longer; soft curls fall over big brown eyes that crinkle whenever george says something funny. he still has that boyish smile.

lulu and bea went dancing and i said i'd join them in a minute. we go to this club every time we're in the city, but tonight it is more crowded than usual. my secluded spot at the bar being the only place i won't be pushed around. still, i feel bad. it's my best friend's birthday, and we came to new york together to celebrate, but instead, i'm drowning my sorrows with cosmos. 

"you won't even say hi now?" i hear matty's voice from behind me and turn around, startled. he stands tall and confident as always, but his eyes no longer hold the same energy. here, up close, i can see that his eyebags look more prominent, and his stubble has grown slightly. he looks tired. i don't think i look any better.

"hi," i say, looking into his brown orbs, phlegmatic, as if the butterflies in my stomach aren't going batshit crazy right now "i didn't see you, sorry."

he grins cheekily, "it's alright, darling."

i don't really know what to say. he should hate me, honestly. it wouldn't be surprising considering how we left things, with all the yelling, name calling. with all the broken picture frames. it started with another rumor while he was on tour, another leaked picture. he was so dismissive and vague about it that i just couldn't find it in myself to trust him, and he could only complain about how childish all of it was.

i guess he doesn't, though. they have free drinks inside the vip section. i remember it from when we came here together. he doesn't need to come all the way to the bar for a drink.

"it-it's good to see you," i stutter, apprehensive now. fearing that maybe he really does hate me, and just walked over to tell me how much so. i mean, i would hate him, too, if i could. but no matter how hard i try, i can't. and believe me, i've tried.

matty is standing so close that the loud music sounds muffled now, and the warm, dim light of the bar reflecting on his silky skin makes me want to melt into his arms. so i try to keep my eyes focused on my feet.

he seems to notice that i'm struggling as i fidget with my empty glass.

"can i get you another one?" he asks amicably. my eyes shift from my feet to the glass in my hands and back to his eyes.

"sure," i reply shyly.

he asks a bartender polishing wine glasses next to us for another cosmopolitan. behind the man, shelves from the same material as the counter hold a collection of glass bottles of different colors with labels sporting french and italian names. matty sits on the barstool beside mine. "so…what are you doing here in new york? i thought you hated the city this time of the year." 

and it's true, i hate new york during the summer. the concrete buildings seem to make the temperature much higher, and tourists crowd every corner. it feels claustrophobic. the subway also smells extra bad during these months. but i loved being here with him, no matter the season. i loved being anywhere with him.

"well, yeah. but it's lulu's birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it here, so here we are. the three of us." 

"bea is here too?"

"she is, yeah."

him talking about my friends is familiar. many sunday evenings were spent on his couch sharing a bottle of red with my newest candle burning on the side. at the same time, i'd tell him about the most recent gossip in my friend group, and he would listen.

the barman places the new drink before me and takes the empty glass. i thank him and take a sip of the pink liquid. it's sweet and sour, and the vodka calms my nerves a little bit. he's staring at my lips. so i lick them clean.

he shifts, and suddenly, i feel his calloused fingertips brush against my elbow resting comfortably over the counter. much more tender than last time; my skin burns where he touches it.

"how's your writing going?" he asks, looking into my eyes now.

i tell him i'm still at the magazine, it's going alright. not a lot has changed since we broke up. but it's less exciting, more monotonous. i leave that part out. and he asks me about my own stuff, poems and essays hidden in my drafts.

it's just awkward small talk. so awkward. like we're just acquaintances. friends of friends being left alone, being civil to each other.

it's also a conversation we've had before. documents on my computer that weren't fitting enough for the editors or that i just wrote on a whim. he used to tell me to publish them either way, to leave the magazine and find people who actually appreciate my work, or to start my own thing. but it would be useless; they're not good enough.

"well, i don't know, it's been a while since i've written anything out of work." i take another sip, just to calm down a little. "haven't felt very inspired lately." 

oh my god, shut up– i can't say this to my ex. it's embarrassing, pitiful.

"it happens." he takes my hand and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. i still shiver "you're really talented, love. you should be proud of yourself. i am."

even his praise hurts now; i miss hearing it daily. it's a stab in my chest, salt on the wound. so i just bite my lip and nod. afraid that if i say something, a choked sob will come out. 

there's longing in his eyes, and he gets a look like he wants to say more. but his gaze flickers behind me for a moment, and he drops my hand and gives my left shoulder a squeeze, showing me a soft smile. 

"i'll leave you be, then. it was nice seeing you, love."

there's a voice in the back of my head begging me to make him stay, but i know i can't do that, not when i recall why it ended the way it did. still, i want to reach for his hand and pull him back to me, just for a few minutes at least. but someone grips my shoulders.

"there you are!" lulu says excitedly, already a few drinks ahead of me. her dark blonde hair messy and her skin glimmering with sweat from all the dancing. bea follows right behind her. "c'mon, let's do some shots, you need to power up for all the dancing you owe me."

"alright." i force a giggle and down my drink as bea asks the bartender for three tequila shots.

a few minutes and many shots later, the three of us are on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the loud, thumping bass of whatever music the dj's playing. just being around my girls makes me feel less anxious, and the flashing lights, plus all the alcohol already flowing through my body are making my mind a bit hazy, which helps me let loose a little. 

as i move, i can feel the beat of the music inside my chest, sweaty bodies pushing against me without a care. i even forget about matty for a minute. i don't think about how his hands used to feel on me when we danced together, not at all.

we dance for maybe 30 minutes. until lulu finds one of her many ex-flings, and, as they catch up, bea asks me to go to the bathroom with her. taking my hand, she leads me out of the crowded area and towards the door labeled "ladies' room". 

the contrast from the mostly dark club to the bathroom's white walls makes my eyes squint. it's colder in here, quieter. i can hear the stifled bass from the music and high heels clicking against the floor tiles.

as i wait for bea, i brace myself on the sink in front of me and look into the mirror. everything is happening too fast. talking to matty, downing shots, and being dragged to the dance floor immediately. my head is pounding. i didn't have the time to process what is going on tonight. 

my ears are ringing, and it feels like all the alcohol has suddenly lost all its effect. instantly sobering up, i grab a paper towel and dab it on my arms and face to try to get rid of the sweat. turning on the sink, i wet my hands and place them on the back of my neck to cool down and try to help with the dizziness. i hear the toilet flush, and bea comes out of the cubicle, running her hands through her wavy black hair. i reach into my purse and pull out my lipgloss, coating my lips evenly while looking at myself in the mirror.

"i'm going to the back for a bit," i tell bea as she approaches the sink next to me.

"you okay? do you need water?" she asks, concerned

"yea- yes, i just need to breathe a little."

"okay, text me if you need anything." i just nod and leave the bathroom. she knows me, knows i need to be alone.

pushing through crowded bodies, i head to the club's back door, leading to a narrow alleyway where the employees usually store extra liquor bottles. it also doubles as a smoking area, so i shouldn't be surprised when i see him as soon as i open the door. tattooed arms flexing as he lights a cigarette, probably not his first one of the night, and i turn back to try to leave before he sees me.

"leaving so soon?" i turn around again and already feel my cheeks heating up. embarrassed, like a kid caught eating dessert before dinner. "you can stay."

"it's okay, i'll go somewhere else," i wave him off mindlessly. he came here to enjoy his cig on his own, right? he doesn't need his ex-girlfriend plaguing his chill alone time "i don't want to bother you, i just need some air."

"please stay." it's not the first time he says this, but this time i do. 

with pink-tinged cheeks and heels clicking loudly, i slowly walk down the three small steps in front of the door and move to stand across him with my back resting against the club's brick wall. the warm summer air hits my skin, and i can hear the rustle of the traffic. "you could never bother me." i pretend i didn't hear him.

"i thought you were quitting," i motion to the burning cigarette between his fingers. the moonlight illuminated the alleyway, making the smoke around him look like some kind of silver aura. he smiles at me.

"i'm trying," he says, taking a drag and blowing it out by the side of his mouth, and i laugh.

"it sure looks like it," i reply, still smiling. i'm not as nervous as i expected i would be in this situation; maybe the alcohol hasn't worn off as much as i thought.

he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "well, you know me".

my eyes follow his every movement, long, calloused fingers holding the rolled paper limply and bringing it up to his red, pouty lips. i start to fidget with the end of my skirt, trying to distract myself by looking at how my fingers twist the fabric. busying myself, so i don't remember how those same lips used to feel against my own or on the curve between my neck and shoulder. 

i look up again when i hear matty step on his cigarette– putting it out– and he starts to walk in my direction. my breath hitches. we are face to face now, noses almost touching. closer than we were at the bar. i can see every freckle on his face when he's this close. i can see the chapped corner of his mouth and the grey that's starting to show up on his now tousled hair.

"why did you leave?" he's straight to the point. his voice comes out low, almost a whisper. at our position, there's no need to be louder than that. there's no hatred in his tone; still, he's not smiling. a flash of hurt appears on his face for a moment. "didn't i make you happy?"

"of course you did, matty." i build the courage to look into his eyes, honey pouring out of them. "we've already talked about this."

he lifts his right hand to rest it on the wall beside my head while letting out a scoff. "but i don't get it," his tone is a little bit louder now. he's not aggressive, but he's not whispering anymore. "what happened?"

"it was for the best." i've stopped whispering too. i place my hands on my forehead. as if to avert the impending headache that will follow this conversation. i don't really know what happened either or when it started happening. i feel sweat droplets running down my hairline, not sure if it's from the summer heat, our closeness, or my disquietude. 

"for the best of who?" he questions, lifting an eyebrow, "i don't feel any better!"

"we were fighting all the time, you know this!" there's a lump in my throat, and i can already feel the pressure between my eyes, working hard so the tears don't fall. i lower my voice again. "it was only a matter of time until one of us left, i just left first."

his gaze softens– probably after seeing my flooding waterline– and it's a while before he talks again, as if he's gathering his thoughts. thinking before he speaks for once, "i could never leave you" it's a low, gravely whisper, and i probably wouldn't have heard it if we weren't this close. "i wish you'd stayed." 

it's a blow to my chest. like a gunshot, blood running down my ribcage. and for a second, i don't think i can breathe.

"i wish you'd done a lot of things, matty." my vision is blurry now, and i feel a single tear roll down my right cheek. i wish he would answer my calls when he stayed late at the studio. i wish he would listen to me when i said i felt neglected. i wish he would give me more security when i felt jealous of the girls partying with him and the boys while i was on the other side of the pond. i wish i stayed. when i can't sleep because i suddenly realize that my bed is too cold, too empty. when i wake up, and there are no kisses on my bare shoulder. when i have to climb over my kitchen counter to reach the can of pasta sauce on the top shelf. when i'm so anxious, and there's no one to hold me… "sometimes i wish i stayed too." 

slowly, his hands cup my jaw. long fingers run lightly across my skin and wipe the lonely tear on my face. the hairs on my neck straighten up, and my heart stirs, beating a little faster. he carefully traces his right thumb over my lower lip, giving me time to reject and push him away. and then, his soft lips lock on mine. no warning. i feel his stubble rub against my chin and let out a sigh. there's a flutter on my lower stomach, burning. i should have pushed him away. instead, my fingers trail up his neck, nails brushing against his skin, and finally into his hair as he coaxes his hot tongue into my mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, of course. i can also taste the rum and lime from the mojito he had earlier. one of his hands travels down and he pulls me by the waist, bodies touching fully now. matty groans into my liquored mouth and i preen; it's good to know i still have that effect on him. that i can still make him let out those pretty sounds with just a kiss. it might be selfish, but we both are. because i bet he's proud too, that every touch of his still sends shivers down my spine. i pull out for air first, lungs already starting to burn. my fingers are still buried in his curls as he rests his forehead on mine, both breathing heavily.

"i need you, love," he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips, voice cracking. there's a smudge of lipgloss on the side of his mouth. it was no use reapplying it.

"matty, i can't," my voice comes out weak, just like how i feel.

"why not? you got somebody?" matty frowns, starting to sound a bit agitated.

i shake my head lightly "i don't."

"what is it?"  

"i already told you" it's my turn to cup his face now, scuff prickling against my palms. "we already had this fight before, you get annoyed because i can't trust you, and i start yelling because you don't take me seriously!"

"of course i take you seriously!" he defends, already becoming increasingly exasperated. i just shake my head; there's no use going through this all over again. it hurt enough the first time. however, i still close my eyes, knowing that if i keep looking at him, the chances of me believing him are higher.

"i'm not built for this, matty," for being away from him, for time zones and phone calls, for pretty girls throwing themselves all over him "i'm not strong enough."

"look at me, baby." his hands moved from my waist up to cup my face again, thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbones. "please," i open my eyes.

"do you love me?" he asks. i realize his eyes are glossed over now "because i love you. so fucking much."

it will be easier if i say no, break his heart all at once. give him a reason to give up. it takes me a while, but i nod.

"yeah?" there's a glimmer of hope on his wet iris.

"i do, but-"

"then we'll figure it out" it's not that simple; just figuring it out is not enough. we hurt each other.

"we'll just end up in the same place, matty," i explain firmly. at this point, tears stream both of our faces. his chest heaves, and i try to contain another sob. he turns his face slightly to press his lips to my palm, just for a second. 

"stay with me, please." our noses touch, and i can no longer distinguish his tears from mine. "i'll do better, i swear."

"it's not going to work."

"just for tonight at least, please," it comes out ragged, and he grazes his lips on mine, leaving a gentle but salty peck. "just for a little bit."

this shouldn't be happening. it's a mess, all of it. no matter how hard or how many times we try, even if we start all over again, we'll just end up in the same place. i know how i am and how he is. our love is tainted, a ticking bomb. so no matter how much i love him, how much i want him, i know we'll just go back to those screaming matches and broken pictures.

but if we keep doing this again and again, maybe then we won't have to say goodbye. at least i won't have to spend an entire lifetime missing him. so maybe just one night won't hurt, right? i've done it a million times. staying for just a little bit won't hurt…i think.

okay, just for a little bit.

[lemon-muncher]

I was thinking some Shalnark x Dom reader? The gender and particular flavour is up to you :3 whether you're in the mood for sadism, bondage, pet play, whatever really. I just want to make him whine and feel so good he cries ✨😌

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH GOOD LORD SOMEONE HOLD ME BACK FROM HIM

Doing this headcanon style so I can add a bunch of stuff for him <3

I'll be keeping this gender neutral and have separate mini headcanons in some of them for female and male genitalia :]

Shalnark is definitely a crier. As much as he hates to admit it, the second he gets the tiniest bit overwhelmed, his eyes water like crazy.

Considering he's a manipulator, both as a person and as a nen user, giving up control isn't something he's use to. But the second his partner rips the control from under his feet, he's at their mercy without complaint.

Definitely a switch... Like I said, he's a manipulator and needs control to do pretty much anything but he finds it nice to let o of all the stress every once in a while.

He's kinky... THERE I SAID IT!!! He may have a cute and innocent face but the things he searches on his phone will get him sent to horny jail! Dude as 50 taps open dedicated to porn and twitter threads of some of the most foul things. I'm talking the hub, X Videos, probably some sketchy furry roleplay is mixed in there too.

Lets get into some of the specifics:

Chocking: He has the biggest turn on for breath play and he has ZERO clue where it came from... Whether you're riding him, plowing into him from behind, or forcing his head deeper into you sex, if you restrict his breathing in anyway, his eyes are immediately rolling back.

Hair Pulling: Another one that'll get his eyes rolling. He has the prettiest blonde hair and who wouldn't take the opportunity to pull him up by it. He has a really sensitive scalp so the slightest tug will have him yelping. If you snuggle after the deed, and you scratch his head he'll quite literally purr

Impact Play: I have nothing to say about this just know it's on my mind...

Roleplay: Yeah...

Feminization: Put this man in a pink frilly skirt! Call him princess and throw some thigh highs on him. Another one of his kinks that he randomly developed. Probably started from a twitter video to be honest. But he loves if you dress him up all nice and pretty and takes him out. Call him 'your girl' or 'princess' out in public and he'll pull you to a nearby alleyway.

Exhibitionism: Will have sex with you anywhere. And I mean ANYWHERE. The alleyway I mentioned, yeah, that's a frequent quicky spot for you guys. He already has to be careful about being spotted since he's a criminal but the thought of being spotted in such a vulnerable position has his holding back moans

Voyeurism: I guess you could call watching your own sex tapes voyeurism... But he always has his phone recording during sessions between the two of you. Even if its just making out, he has it on tape. If either of you are away on a mission and he's horny, he's going through his achieves of the two of you.

Mommy/Daddy Kink: He randomly whined mommy/daddy while you fucked him and quite literally caused you to freeze in place. Not cause it's a bad thing but because he pulled that shit straight out of his ass and surprised the both of you. Wants to be babied from his mommy/daddy but also wants his back blown out by them.

Anal Play/Pegging: This man thrives off of prostate orgasm. Loves the feeling of having endless orgasms without spilling a drop of cum. Whether it's your fingers, tongue, buttplug, or cock/strap-on, he'll end up shivering from it the feeling of being full. I'd like to think he sent you a porn link of anal play on 'accident' just to give you the hint of what he wants.

[multi-fandomsfreak]

Just wanted to put this in your head..

Imagine this video:

But instead of Xenophanes simping for Needlemouse he's simping for demon reader.  😏

Xenophanes simping over demon reader

Hey there! Thanks for the ask!

Thanks for feeding into my delusions lol. Really appreciate it. I already like Xeno enough and like to think he does this even though I know damn well he’ll probably do some stuff to me.

Also for now requests are closed. Mostly because it’s almost Christmas and I want to spend the time between now and then with my family. Anyways all aside hope you enjoy it reading this. ~Blaze/Dawn

Pronouns: Not Mentioned

Warning: ⚠️ Obsessive/Possessive behaviour + Murder⚠️

Requested: Yes/No

Characters: Xenophanes + Mentions of the EXE’s (Mostly Lord X and Fleetway)

Proofread: ❌

Credits: Art by komiplier on Twitter + Banner by 5macc13 (Edited By Me) on Pinterest

———————————

- Let me tell you when this man simps for you, he simps for you hard. Although he doesn’t admit it, he really likes you. He likes having your company, he likes it when you join him in whatever he is doing it gives him more joy than doing the thing by himself. He’s kind of gotten attached to you. Both emotionally and quite literally. He’s always seen around you, kind of like a bodyguard constantly keeping you to himself. Not letting anyone near you and if someone needs to speak to you he’ll be there standing right next to you.

- He definitely gets made fun of due to how much he likes you, mostly Lord x and Fleetway though. Lord X is a smug little shit once he finds out about Xeno’s little obsession over you he’s teasing the hell out of him. Making slight passive aggressive comments about his love for you at him and when he calls him out on it Lord X acts like he didn’t say anything wrong. Fleetway on the other hand oh he’s not even trying to hide that he’s teasing Xeno. In fact he indulges in the reactions that Xeno gives off, seeing him act like a child denying their crush makes him laugh. Fleetway may have hinted that Xeno simps for you directly but quickly gets shut down.

- He can get a little possessive around you. Well a little is an understatement for someone like him but regardless possessive. He has to be around you regardless of the situation. Yes he’s fully aware that you are a demon yourself and that you can and have dealt with some disturbing shit as well as causing some disturbing shit but is that going to stop him from acting like this? Nope it won’t. I’d suggest getting comfortable with his possessiveness because it really is something.

- With him being possessive he’s also very obsessed over you and sometimes fawns over you. Not in public though he’s not getting more embarrassed by the others than he already does. Don’t get me wrong he does show his appreciation in his own way just don’t expect to see like an exaggerated reaction. In private though, he’s completely different. If you so much as give him a compliment as soon as he’s alone and he knows that he is alone he could feel himself becoming slightly giddy. It’s like a fan who got recognised by their favourite artist. He does tell himself to not get too into his emotions but at the same time he can’t help but feel this way you do or say anything positive towards him. A simple praise like ‘good job’ is enough to make him feel like this.

- That’s just the tame stuff he does, don’t even get me started on what else he might do. Considering what and who he is I doubt that he won’t murder someone who gets close to you. If someone even dares to look at you or show interest in you he’ll make sure that they learn something and leave you alone. If he’s feeling nice enough he might let them live, not fully intact but being able to recover but most of the time he isn’t. It’s even worse if the person talks shit about you. He’ll make it worse for them.

- You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, congrats. You can basically make him do anything you want. No matter how extreme it might seem or see if you tell him to do it he will. Everyone definitely notices this because he doesn’t do the same to them. If they need something from him or need him to do something they immediately go to you and ask him to do it. Some of them only do this when they have to because they understand that it can be annoying when you're constantly being told to do something for them but for some of the others they tell you to ask him to do some embarrassing stuff and he’ll do it no doubt.

- Overall, for some reason you don’t question his behaviour. You know that sometimes Xeno can have some moments and despite things listed above he can be fun to hang around so you don’t really pay much attention to what he does.

———————————

[crsssie]

from one admirer to another : scrambled

pairing: leon kennedy x reader || masterpost: from one admirer to another

synopsis: from one admirer to another, an online penpal service, allows for two people with common interests to write to each other without ever revealing their actual address! Luckily for both you and Leon, you get matched up! What do eggs and Christmas even have in common anyway? sure hope it's that modeling business and NOT that Ada Wong addiction.

featuring: reader as scrambled eggs // leon as christmas

Dear scrambled eggs,

Thank you for that Ada print. It's going into my shrine (you were weird first, alright? Don't go calling me weird now.) and the fact that it's signed? crying screaming throwing up. Also, how dare you call yourself her day one? I was there when she first debuted you can NOT be more day one than me (joke).

I like my eggs in the form of shakshuka. If you haven't tried it before, you really should. It's delicious. It's basically eggs in tomato-based sauce with a ton of other spices and god it's so good I could just die. My favorite season... probably Thanksgiving. I know turkey gets pretty boring at times, but the cranberry sauce that my friends make is so good it's criminal. And, yes, I am unfortunately no different from you, but that's our secret, alright? I think I do an okay job of pretending to be normal at work.

Life updates... I had a shoot with a random model two weeks ago and I'm unable to get the way their hand felt on my bicep out of my head. I felt like a teenager all over again when they did. I'm not a teen anymore, and it's been a hot minute since I have been. Is this the curse of working with attractive people as a model? It was my first time seeing them, and the director didn't even refer to them by name, so my assumption is they don't do that many shoots. Maybe I'll be lucky and never see them again? Big day for losers in love (me). I'm kidding. I'm moving too fast. This'll be over in a couple of days. It's not like they're as hot as Ada— but they're pretty damn close. Got any advice for a loser who's just fallen in love at first sight?

Other than that run-in with the model, I got a couple of days off last week which I was supposed to enjoy, only to get absolutely obliterated by okaokra's newest chapter on glhf <3. Why am I an Ada stan who likes angst. Why am I cursed to love the way okra writes? I am not immune to the Ada brainrot or whatever the youth are saying these days. Every time I think of Ada I feel a little more like those twitter artist reaction memes of them biting wood.

The good thing about being only semi-well-known in the industry though is the fact that I can still sneak around at local events as a fan. It's nice that masks are so accessible nowadays. I'll be stopping by at the Ada-themed cupsleeve event in Raccoon in a couple of days, so I'll probably mail you a little something from that. So, if my letter finds you late, my apologies.

Oh, right, since we're on that topic. Merry Christmas, and happy new year.

See you around? Christmas

The cupsleeve event is relatively easy to sneak into for Leon. He puts on old glasses from college and a jacket that makes him look a lot younger than he really is, and he orders an Ada drink, grinning at the table on the side when he spots a familiar face.

"You're an Ada fan?"

You blink up at him, visibly surprised, and he takes a step back.

"Sorry, I thought you looked familiar—"

"No! I'm the same person. Yeah, I'm a big Ada fan. I'm running the event this time, actually. I model for spare money to host events like this." You scratch your cheek. "Wanna enter the lottery?"

"And what would I get?"

"A limited edition, signed, Ada photocard."

"What is this, Kpop? —take my ten." He hands you a bill nearly immediately, and the two girls at the table with you jump in their skin.

"Wow, you're down horrendous, huh?" You hand the ten to the girls, patting his shoulder. "How should I get the stuff to you? You have to leave a social or something."

"Mm..." He clicks in his twitter handle, and you blink slowly.

"Can I bid for it?"

"That was not the plan, but I mean—"

"You'd have to out-bid them." One of the girls get up to put their hands on your shoulders, and you scratch your cheek.

"How much did you pay for it?"

"The base price is two hundred dollars." You grin.

"Mm... and if I give you three hundred?"

"It's signed, so no."

"Shame." Leon clicks his tongue. "I would've paid good money for that photocard."

Leon turns his head at the sound of the door opening, eyes widening as Ada herself steps through the doors to her cupsleeve event. The people in the coffee shop yell as she does, too many people crowding around her to beg for a signed autograph on their cupsleeve.

"Guys, give her a little space." You call from the table.

The people ignore you, and you scoff.

"Do you need—" Leon's cut off by your actions instead.

You grab the megaphone on the table and nod at the workers, most of them covering their ears as you yell.

"CAN YOU GUYS GIVE HER SOME SPACE, PLEASE?"

The megaphone renders everyone quiet, and Ada laughs.

"I'll sign one by one at the table. Please let me sit first. I just finished a shoot." She waves thank you to everyone as she takes your seat, and you ask her if she needs anything to drink. Leon finds that it's almost as if you planned it, and as Ada meets eyes with him at the table, his heart flips.

She's literally so hot. He's going to pass out.

"Well, since you're here. Do you want a signed cupsleeve too?"

"Yes, please." Leon fumbles as he hands her his cup, looking for a pen, and Ada hums.

"It's good. I brought a sharpie."

"Can you sign my arm— wait, that would violate my contract." Leon purses his lips.

"Do you model?" She asks almost naturally, signature smooth on his plastic cup as she hands it back to him.

"I started just a little ago."

"Any major goals?"

Leon steps to the side to let the other fans get something signed. "I'd like to have a shoot with you one day."

"I look forward to seeing you at a shoot one day, then." She hums. "Who knows? Maybe we'll meet at a runway too. What's your name?"

"Leon. Leon Scott Kennedy."

Leon's heart flips into this throat, and his cheeks turn red.

God, he's going to pass out.

prev letter : masterlist : next letter

[marshallpupfan]

Marshall Merchandise Update!

Got some interesting new additions for my collection to show off today! Eventually, I need to show everything off again... as soon as I get things organized again. I still have items I bought from early last year that I still haven't found a spot for yet. I've been slacking! lol

First off, this lapel pin... being graciously held up by Wolf O'Donnell. There's probably a "can't let you do that" joke in here somewhere, but I can't think of any right off hand. 😅

This was actually sent to me by a friend, who recently paid a visit to Nickelodeon Universe (an indoor theme park). While she was there, she seen this and got it for me, hoping it was something I didn't have. Fortunately, it wasn't! A fine item for my collection, indeed! She'll likely see this post later, so if you're reading this, thank you again!

Actually, I believe she also went a year or two ago and managed to find the Meet & Greet Marshall wandering around. She even got a picture & video with him, too. I was quite envious! 😄

Next, this "magic towel" thing. It's also being held up by another wolf - this time, it's Wolf Link, from "The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess". Can you tell I'm a bit of a Nintendo gamer? lol

Anyhoo, I was just doing some shopping with my mother in a dollar store when I happened to stumble upon this. It was only $1.25, so... why not get it? The artwork isn't the best, but hey, I still like it.

Next, one of those "Good 2 Grow" snack containers! Actually, funny story about this one. I was at a gas station, not expecting to see anything pertaining to PAW Patrol, when I seen one of these that someone left at the front near the cashier. However...

It was actually one of Zuma, which surprised me, since they usually pass him up to focus on the main four. I meant to post about it on Twitter/X, but like usual, I forgot. In any case, I decided to track one down, and I soon found one of Marshall at Walmart. It was the last one, too! Unless I'm mistaken, they also had one of Liberty, so I guess they went beyond just the six original pups this time. Nice!

As you might recall, we've actually seen products like this before, about a year or two ago. Back then, it was just the pups in their regular outfits. This time, they went with a superhero theme, no doubt due to The Mighty Movie. I'm not sure why they went with Super Paws and not the Mighty Movie outfits, but maybe these were easier to mold. Who knows, but hey, I quite like it when older outfits get brought back, instead of them getting forgotten in the sands of time.

I just wish we could see THIS outfit again someday. It had a brief reappearance in that "Mighty Pups Save Adventure Bay" video game, but that's it so far. Sadly, at this point, I doubt we'll ever see it again.

Er... guess I got a little distracted here, sorry!

Last, and absolutely not least, is this brand new item! Something I knew about for many months and couldn't wait to get a hold of one for myself! It's "Storytime with Marshall" by Leap Frog!

(In hindsight, taking these pictures in front of my monitor may not have been the best idea. Hopefully they're not too hard to see. 😅)

This thing is legitimately super awesome! They really got his likeness down so well here! I mean, seriously, just look at it! It's so cute! It's easily one of the best pieces of merch I've got in my collection now!

According to the box, it can do quite a lot. It includes 40+ stories, which I assume are based on various episodes (I haven't listened to them yet, but I also assume they focus on different pups, going by the buttons on the front... yeah, it's a shame there's no Rocky or Zuma again, I know). It has a sleep timer, to help lull the little ones to sleep at night before shutting off and all that. Additionally, it teaches "core learning skills" or something, whatever that means. That's cool and all, but of course, for me, I just wanted it because I absolutely love how it looks. It'll look great on one of my shelves! lol

I'll admit, I'm glad this came out before the new animation style got applied. While I like Marshall's updated season 11 look so far (I might make a separate post about that later), his original design is still my #1 favorite. A part of me hopes to keep collecting more merchandise of THIS Marshall, but I know that, by next year, they'll probably retire this design and start using the new one, permanently. Guess I'll enjoy it while it lasts. 😅

And that's all for now! I currently have another item coming in the mail; Marshall's new Rescue Wheels big wheel vehicle + figurine. It's been delayed, but it's supposed to show up at some point next week. Hopefully, the remaining Rescue Wheels merchandise will show up in stores soon enough, and I'll be able to show them all off soon. I might also have to buy a Boomer figurine, too. lol

[b3742864234]

Futa x reader, Futa x reader, Futa x reader. Please please. There aren’t that many out there, which is a shame~

Ok so for this I decided to do just regular relationship hcs (lmk if you want a pre milgram him xreader about how you got together as i already wrote one for current him) buut i included both pre-milgram fuuta and the fuuta we have now :)

Pre-milgram silly

he can and will be agressively protective of you

im talking like, if someone looks at you wrong he is not afraid to get in a fight with them

he's proud to show you his accomplishments (by that i mean. getting a whole group of people to bully others)

but also, he's be very proud of you

he's the kinda person that will show off his s/o at any chance he can get

annoying-couple style, he posts about how cool and great you are

he easily adapts to your love language, he treats your needs as more important than anyone else's

his love language is physical touch. so get ready

he plays soccer with you :)

if you don't know how to play/aren't that good at it, he teaches you instead

when he first asked you to play you were. surprised to say the least

smth smth twitter user goes outside !?

sorry

but still. he doesn't seem like the kinda person to enjoy sports all that much

if you're in any way artsy or just want to get out and do something, he's the one

like in backdraft's mv, i imagine he actually enjoys drawing graffiti

it's a nice way to destress, express yourself, all that

if you mess up it's whatever. who's gonna judge a graffiti drawn in some secluded place

he draws you at one point. it's not the best but you know he tried his best.?

you both take a few selfies in front of the art :)

it's Your Spot <3

.........

he found out about his victim's death when he was with you

and oh. oh

he didn't mean to do this

he just. stares there at his phone, mumbling excuses to himself

because he's not a murderer, right?

you wouldn't date a murderer.

he's okay. he didn't do anything bad

he just hopes you don't blame him

Milgram silly

he feels weird about this relationship

in a way that, he doesn't fully understand your reasons to date him.

but he's happy with you

he often says how you're "the only normal one here" and you "keep him sane"

he's joking. obv

half joking

if you're a prisoner, he fully believes you are innocent

honestly i feel like he wouldn't even date you if he thought otherwise

as in, he'd first have to know your story and then he'd judge you based on that

if you're a guard? that's a funky dynamic

the annoying loud angry prisoner becoming more and more calm around That One Guard

everyone is quick to notice, which results in him kind of avoiding you

he fails miserably. you are a guard. there is no escaping

either way he cares about you. a lot

he talks about you to haruka

it started kind of involuntarily. haruka just asked him about his opinion on you

and oh boy. he sure had an Opinion

he "offhandedly" complimented you a lot, noticed a lot more details about you than about other prisoners

haruka understood the situation. pretty quickly

he does not mind :) he finds it kinda cute

anyways

fuuta thinks about you. a lot

he likes to imagine you both in different scenarios, he has soo many ideas for you guys for when he's (or you both) released

speaking of which, you're his new motivation to get out of milgram

he now just wants to live with you, be free to do whatever he wants, all with you, without That Feeling at the back of his mind that someone is watching (other prisoners/guards)

:)

[ciellery]

Introduction:

Hi, hello, and a good day to all!! I go by Rue or Ciellery in all of my socials (except AO3), but feel free to call me Rue or Chelle, whatever floats your boat. :]

Socials:

You can find me in Discord as coffeeaddict5030,

Twitter:

YouTube (although I'm not active there YET):

AO3:

About Me!:

I like to draw and write about things that I'm interested in which is — at the moment — Scenario SMP! Aside from that, I would sometimes play the guitar, ukulele, crochet whatever I can, and listen to my incredibly disastrous taste in music. I'm from the Philippines so if you ever see any grammatical errors in my English, I do apologize for that. This is also my first time being incredibly active in my social media so please be nice!

Uh, yeah that's all! If you have some questions, whether that be about me, art stuff, writer stuff, my thoughts, my AUs, feel free to ask!!

Tags:

Rue's thoughts - answers

Rue's Ted talk - some thoughts :3

Rue rambles - just some good old rambling:]

Rue draws! - art stuff :D

Rue writes?!? - Writer's block is a CONSTANT thing for me, so if I post something, surprise!

Rue's Tumblr Shenanigans - self explanatory I think, and reblogging asks that I sent anonymously! :DD

Rue's friendship brainrot - got hit with the feels again. I love my friends a lot lol

Rue's Ryan brainrot - ...self explanatory, or me going bonkers with It_Ryan thoughts! :D

icy asks! - answering asks that my great friend @ice-cap-k send :D

Lin art propaganda - me going bonkers for her art. To be fair though, @stressed-sock's art is cool as hell. This tag being here is totally valid.

in Space we trust - me going bonkers for their art. It's only fair to have one for @astro-naut9's art. I love em. Again, this tag being here is absolutely valid.

Rue does requests! - drawing requests :D

AU tags:

Dawn Awaits a New King - GoT Sean or Ryan

Nexus of The Damned - Something Ryan centric. Peace of mind? Nope, never heard of that! All I know is— [gets hit by a pan]

centric AU

More tags to come for my AUs :]

The Floors. - The Floors.

[amethystina]

I just saw this on X (formerly known as twitter) and I immediately thought of you. And I don't know why I had the urge to send it to you, so here it is.

It describes perfectly how I feel about your writing. I usually don't read ongoing fics, but if I find one really intresting I read the first chapter to have a better understanding of it and save it for when it is finished. But with 'Who holds the devil', I felt like I couldn't stop reading. Like I physically couldn't stop reading, and it was all due to your writing. Everything you write about, every detail, every emotion, and every expression is written in the most unique and intresting way I have ever read.

The reason I sometimes prefer reading over watching things is because I have the ability to imagine what I am reading and emmerse myself completly in it when the writing is done well. And you don't just do it well, you do it INCREDIBLE.

In my personal experience, you are the first writer with which I like the long descriptions of things. Because when I read them, nothing feels too long or too much, it just feels perfect for the storytelling. And I only realise that there were a lot of words written after the fact, because everything just sails smoothly.

I don't know why I had the urge to send you this 😅, and I hope I didn't overwhelm you with my unstructured oversharing on here. But I just wanted to say, you are incredible and I hope you stay healthy and happy in the future (even if you suddenly decide to stop writing this fic, there is no pressure as you have already given us a lot).

Take care 💜

I am a little overwhelmed, not going to lie, but in a good way? In that way where I don't really know how to respond because I'm feeling so many things right now, but all of them good.

I've said it before but it will never not blow my mind when I hear just how much my writing seems to affect people. Because it doesn't feel all that glamorous to me, you know? When I'm sitting there, frowning at my document, trying to figure out what word goes where. Or when I'm trying to find the right rhythm and cadence to the sentences, and capture the right emotions and imagery to tell the story I can see playing out inside my head.

But I am, of course, incredibly flattered and also very proud to know that I can have such an impact. I started writing fanfics on a whim — because I wanted to write at least one before I died — and the art of writing (or whatever you want to call it) wasn't even something I reflected on at the time. Well, tbh, I can't say that I do that all that much now, either — I just write what I think sounds nice xD

Point being, even if I've always put a lot of effort into my writing, it never really occurred to me that I might end up being genuinely good at it. That felt like such an unobtainable goal that I never even considered it. And it's been pretty disorienting to be told that I am (but, again, in a good way).

Especially since I go against a lot of the common writing advice that you see floating around. I write a lot of words — some that are definitely not needed. I use adverbs, adjectives, and whatever the heck I want. I often do a lot of telling instead of showing. I repeat things and spell things out for the readers in a way that good writers shouldn't. I do a lot of hand-holding with my readers, taking them through every step of the character's thought process and reactions. I write detailed descriptions of what the characters are feeling instead of only showing it through their actions. The list goes on.

Like, if you look at what the writing advice says, I should be a terrible writer xD

But I'm glad that I'm not. I'm glad that I can write things that move people and that the stories I tell feel that engaging. And I love being able to share them and spread the joy. It's such a wonderful feeling to know that I've made a difference somehow, however small it may be.

So thank you so, so much for your kind words. Which feels wholly inadequate to convey just how grateful I am that you took the time to write and send this, but trust me when I say that it means a lot to me. I never thought I'd reach this point, with people reaching out to me just to tell me how much they love my writing. How wonderful is that? It leaves me utterly speechless sometimes.

How is this my life?

And so far I have no plans to stop writing Who Holds the Devil, don't worry. I can't promise it'll happen quickly what with everything that's going on in my life right now (like being officially diagnosed with burnout due to long Covid — yay me) but I'm way, way too stubborn to give up. And I also love the fic and the characters too much to stop xD I want to see this through to the end just as much as the rest of you.

So yeah. Thank you again for sending this — it made my day. And you take care, too 💜

[iwsynttr-project]

WAAAHHH I just saw people have been posting about the project on Pinterest???

THANK YOU???

I am so pink oh my goodness aaa

I'll give some updates then so people know we're not just slackin', haha;;

This past week we've been hella busy with church, school, trying out programs, still figuring out the whole learning to drive thing, stuff with disability, etc... but especially with Valentine's Day & Moose's birthday.

CJ came up to visit which was really special & we got to eat out & get boba all together which was super nice as he doesn't live too close by ever since we moved a few years back.

I recently got most of my m3dz figured out so I might be able to start hrt within the next year, & it sounds like the date has been set for CJ & I to get married this April 29th!

On top of all this we recently found out that a couple other plans have been thrown into the mix:

Our folks are planning to head out for a week a few states away to spend time with family & celebrate our twin cousins' birthday & then they'll be goin to Medieval Times for Moose's birthday possibly with another friend or cousin.

My mom & I are gonna try & see a show with CJ & his mom if they're able to come for my 21st birthday (Which is March 13th!) & CJ's birthday is at the start of April.

Right before our wedding is my dad's birthday & we're gonna see another live performance in another state, & then right afterwards a few days later is gonna be the wedding.

We're just gonna make it small & Soukoku themed, but maybe years later from now when we're livin' alone & financially stable we might do a bigger more official wedding. We'll renew our vows, maybe have custom made suits, special stuff like that.

Somethin' we're hopin' to do is for the small one we might make custom Lego Minifigures to be in front of/above the cake & then if we save up... the four-six hundred bucks... we wanna get the Soukoku "wedding" figurines that came out a bit ago.

It's a dream.

Anyways, as for the actual project!

I'm still working on the script when I have time, I just got stumped since we don't have Golden Demon written yet- but I managed to come up with some content to fill in for during or after the scene plays out for now & continued from there.

Moose has decided to try & make two versions of Life's Better With A Little Party In It: one that's a trashy pop song, & one that's his own take on the song based on artists like YOASOBI. (Into the Night, Monster, Idol, etc...)

We're also thinking about making a Cover Album on the side to go with the soundtrack just for fun with covers of songs from bands & artists like ONE OK ROCK & Set It Off.

I'm still thinking I might go for making The I Was Screaming Your Name Through the Radio Project into an episodic animatic series, but with everything going on I might wait to record the actual script & songs until we've got most of the script & songs written out more at the least if not also until after I get a better microphone & possibly start injections. (Maybe I'll still do the first few chapters since they're just teens anyways but meh whatever; we'll see.)

I did do a drawing while I was free last night though & have been talking with my dad who's voice is basically his life & career about vocal training of sorts or if I should find classes online or something along those lines for it.

(Back to the drawing) I made a concept design for Moose's online/music persona AquaticSnow & a possible first EP/Album cover. I'm not sure I'll post it (yet?) since he might use it for stuff like his avatar, channel/s, music, etc but if I do it'll be on my personal main Tumblr, Instagram, & probably Deviantart & Twitter/X.

I'm also nervous about somebody tryin' to steal the art &/or concept.

Another reminder that I do have a personal server where I stream drawing, gaming, sometimes reading & writing, watch parties (movies, shows, etc...) & I post planning & updates for the project there!

.:Charli's Discord Server:.

( Don't forget to pick roles & read the rules! Otherwise you can't see the other chats;; )

Sorry 'bout the long post, haha;; we hope you all had a great Valentine's Day!

Charli