#my camera roll is in shambles

[whereispearlescentmoon]

pearl is trying to recruit other where-is blogs to stop the one behind the drowning of everyone!!

@making-mcyt-drown your time has come…

Other blogs included are: @whereissmajor @where-is-xornoth @skizz-in-places-he-shouldnt-be @where-is-welsknight @grianbuteverywhere @where-is-goodtimeswithscar @whereiskrow @places-where-impulse-shouldnt-be @whereisldshadowlady @whereisinthelittlewood @where-is-jimmysolidarity @whereisrendog @where-is-smallishbeans @tango-but-everywhere @where-is-cleo @where-did-joe-go (this tag won’t work for some reason?) @where-is-bdubs @where-is-vintagebeef @whereisgem and of course me.

(Any blogs not included it’s because this table only had so many spots please forgive me)

[secrescaryat]

saw this post and went scouring through my videos to find charles’ ‘oh arthur’

yeah i am Hurt

[apollos-boyfriend]

my son who is three apples tall…….

[1800titz]

WOOO second part to the pornstar!au (Tiger Harry). Find the first part here

If you'd like to read more goodies from me (including a RIDETHET!GER threesome, already up!), my patreon is HERE :)

CONTENT/WARNINGS: p-in-v, anal sex, Sir kink, choking-ish, light dom-sub dynamics

WC: 4K

“They’re both just such pretty holes,” Harry coos, and he thumbs apart her lips before folding over her to reach for his priorly discarded smartphone. His confession is mottled by a sigh, “…I simply cannot decide.” 

Tiger has perfected the art of edging. 

Not even in a literal, tethered-from-the-sweet-peak-of-precipice with an iron hand wrenching backwards sense — though, she’s seen plenty of that through his camera work. It’s a finely formulated craft, making her skin itchy and her cunt weepy before he’s even really touched her. And he hasn’t. She thinks, maybe he’ll nip at her clit with the pads of a forefinger and thumb, but he doesn’t even do that. Instead, he takes a step back. The phone pings. Action. 

“Spread,” Harry tells her. Light. Easy. Pats at one cheek, “Here.” 

Y/N obliges. She rolls onto her shoulders and tucks her arms behind her, splaying her fingers and pulling the flesh apart there. There’s a hiss like a breath coming in through little nooks between his bare teeth. It feels absolutely glorious. 

And lewd. A torrid kind of heat climbs up her neck. Lingers in the apples of her cheeks when Tiger pets at her thigh — probably taping a close-up vista of her oozing pussy — and comments, “Look at that pretty, little cunt.” 

Her digits jolt over her flesh, squeezing it apart almost desperately when he traces the back of a finger beside her clit, and then meanders up to her leaky entrance, prodding with the tips of two fingers. Not quite breaching. Tiger slinks one — a forefinger— up the short trail of her taint and nudges at the hilt of her plug, tracing the petals. Stuffed with silicone flora. Pretty. 

“Fuck. Fucking gorgeous.”

He sighs all soft behind her, and trails lower.

“I think—“

Harry scopes the hood of her clit with a thumb and then pulls it back to scrape with the pad of his middle finger — a motion that makes her jerk and wrests a soft sound from the back of her throat. A deviously mirthy hum comes from behind. 

“I’ll fuck you here—“

The tip of a finger brushes her weepy, pulsing seam.

“—first. Stretch you out a bit before. Sound good?”

She hums against the sheets. Please. Tiger traces the rim and sinks in to the second knuckle with paltry notice. His fingers are long, fill up more space than her own. Lengthier than hers. Girthier. They prod at the nooks and crannies that yearn to be grazed with little effort on his part, and by the time he’s sunk to the base of his chilled ring bands and added a third digit, Y/N is nearly drooling into the sheets. 

“You are such a tight, little thing, sweetheart,” Harry hums. Enunciates his speech with the wet squelch of his fingers plunging, cradled warm and wet by her sloppy pussy.

A mewl gets muffled in linen when he scissors the pair, stretching the seam taut, and rolls his thumb in slippery circles where her slick has trickled. There’s heat swelling in the trench of her tummy; a warm tide pool sloshing in waves that crest. Higher and higher. Building. It overcomes her — this tsunami, blighting her ataraxy until she’s a slobbering mess at the foot of his bed, keeled over. 

“Gonna—“ Y/N warns, brows pleated and mouth pried apart, tongue brushing bunched fabric with little couth. 

Tiger milks her through it, rigid fingers pumping and thumb swirling clusters of spheres into her pulsing flesh, until all that’s left of her are melty shambles with a weakly fluttering cunt. And it does flutter, throbbing emptily as his digits withdraw. Sucks onto them like it doesn’t want to let go, and then spasms around bare atoms like it needs to be corked back up. 

“Good girl,” Tiger praises. He sounds soft and pleased. Concentrated as his cockhead prods at her hole— “Got my fingers all wet, too. That’s two for two.” 

He swipes them at the back of her thigh, so she feels how slick. The pink border of his mouth is probably twitchy. Traces of a smile scratch at his dialogue the way something claws in the pit of her tummy as he nudges with the fat tip. She feels melty. Frozen fudge on a summer day dribbling down the handle. She thinks, for a moment, with her knees and her shoulders seeping into the mattress, that English has slipped her mind. Nothing plucks at her vocal cords, almost as if they’ve been snipped entirely.  A high sound crawls from the back of her mouth, though, when Harry tucks his cock into her. 

He’d been big in her palms — the pads of her digits hadn’t quite kissed around his shaft when she was kneeling, sweeping her tongue at the slit of his ruddy head, and her jaw had strained wide apart to fit him in and swallow him down. Even still, Y/N hadn’t anticipated the stretch. He bullies his cock into her — just about halfway — forcing against her spongy walls in a way that’s nearly too much. Like a paw wriggling into a glove that’s two sizes too small. She feels him in her belly, deep, as he sinks in, inch by inch (hisses escaping the cracks of his bared teeth and scraping at the edges), and bottoms out. She tastes clean cotton on her tongue, mouth wide and muted dumb, eyes screwed. 

A gasp shatters the lull, like one sucked in bobbing to the surface of a sea that’s going to ripple and kick her back under. It thaws in her achy lungs as a soft, dreamy moan when Harry fetters her wrists with one hand at the small of her back, rocks out, and pumps back in. 

“There you go, little bird. Nice and—“

She cries out as his hips snap. 

“Full?”

He rolls out slow, and her fingers twitch when he pummels in to the hilt. Ragged, little noises scarper from her mouth like he’s punched them from her from the inside. The ping of the phone sundering its video doesn’t register, but she realizes he’s tossed the phone again when he pets his free hand over her ass and stamps a sharp, stinging blow to it. Harry sets a brutal pace, then. Soft strokes that strain her rim taut and give her room to adjust simmer off when something scathing boils in the trench of his belly. He grapples her joints in his palm firmly, and the tempo of his hips smacking into her morphs merciless. Used and abused. 

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Y/N whines when his thumb presses at the hilt of petals stretching her littlest hole. 

“Fuck, yeah,” He mirrors, snarling, and twists at the plug to siphon a whimper. 

Inferno spumes her arteries when he wriggles the plug out, groaning, and replaces it with two wet, blunt fingertips. Three. They stuff her fuller than the plug had and have her wheezing for oxygen to mingle with the scorch that permeates her veins. 

Her knees shuffle over the sheets, she squirms when he drills into her again and again and again, and he grapples at a love handle to keep her tight in place, “You asked for this— and you’re gonna take it, baby.”

Y/N does. There’s not any alternative when he hammers into her and burrows half-moons into her flesh with the ends of his short nails, but she doesn’t want there to be. She scrapes at the side of his palm with crooked fingers — the one that cuffs her wrists together and pants into the sheets. 

She’s seen Tiger fuck. She’s watched the videos — a little redhead clawing at the stair-railing with wet eyes as he coiled her hair tight over his knuckles from behind, or a brunette keening under his frame as he tucked her calves over his shoulders, pounding in from the tip to the hilt and all the way back out. The ones with a curvy blonde clawing at the sheets, whimpering as he pummeled between her thighs, and the one where the woman with the pixie juddered helplessly over his lap, crying out as he stippled a slick trail of open-mouthed kisses up her jugular and manually bounced her over his cock with a firm grip at her hips that dwarfed her size. Y/N has seen so much of the impact in screen captures — slobbered chins, streaming eyes with mucked kohl and smudged liner. Tips of noses hued cerise or pinky and lips swollen and sloppy with spit. Still, she’s somewhat surprised to feel mirrored evidence over her own face as tears drip in rivulets over the apples of her cheeks, as she gnaws at her bottom lip and drools onto his expensive mattress. It’s not the aftermath yet, and Y/N is sure she’s going to be a disheveled mess by the time the camera on the dresser shuts off. 

His cock spits ribbon after ribbon into her with little warning. He pounds into her, something cruel and brutal, husking growls. A groan slides up from the depths of his chest, and he slurs a string of curses, fingers twitching in her other hole when he empties into her pulsing cunt. Y/N absolutely milks him through it. Her slick walls spasm over his cock, and she whines like the same effects curdle her bloodstream and erupt across neurons. 

When Harry pulls out, fisting at the base and gruffing a hum, he thumbs a bead of cum that leaks out to coat her clit. She absolutely sings, at that. 

He lets go of her wrists. Twisting his fingers gently from between her cheeks, Harry blows out a breath and—

Y/N keens like he’s slapped her when Tiger splays his palms over the globes of her ass, spreads, and spits where he’d been fingering her apart. It’s glorious. Harry presses his cockhead to the glob of saliva smearing, still manhandling apart one cheek, and tells her, “Spread,” voice worn and mottled with pants like his heartbeat is thundering ichor in his ears. 

She does. Her own heart hammers behind the caging of her ribs when he makes a lewd sound, breathy and awed as he smacks over her asshole with the head. He slides against her perineum when she jolts, spine zagging, and hums. 

“Is it gonna fit?” Y/N beckons. Her cheek smushes to the wet spot she’s made against the sheets. It’s the most gloriously humiliating revelation.

He winds around the room to the nightstand, where, through tear smeared peripherals (like a bleary windshield coated with condensation), she watches him cull a bottle of lube. The cap clicks. Harry sets a knee up, and the bed creaks, meshing with a sound of amusement and a slick hand working lubricant over his shaft. Her lashes flutter as Tiger works two wet fingers into her, to the hilt, unceremoniously, scissoring. He pulls them out. 

“F’course—“

Y/N gnaws into the smooth, slicky flesh beside her molars. 

Tiger grunts. She’s forced to arch at the palm over the dimples at the base of her spine. As if to test the theory, the slippery head of his cock nudges to the puckering seam. 

“…We’ll make it fit.” 

Taking anal from Tiger, Y/N learns, is a feat. 

A pornographically debauched sort of rite of passage. She’s seen the pictures, too. The teasers he’ll post on X with only the pink tip of his cock in frame, a ringed, vibrantly lacquered hand cradling the back of his partner’s thigh to tuck up and showcase an asshole oozing cum. And the videos; the ones where the girls rake their nails into his tri’s, knuckles bleached, necks strained as garbled moans climb up their throats as he burrows in. They’re always blissed out, after; their visages melty and the lines where their foreheads and hair meet teemed with sweat. She has to wonder, though, as he prods in, how they quite make it fit. 

A high sound and a tight squeeze part-way over the tip has him petting his fingertips over the metacarpals spiking through the skin at the back of her hand. 

“Just breathe for me, baby,” Harry tells her, soft unlike the seat of his jawbone and the grit of his ivory teeth, after, “I’ll go— slow.”

Y/N inhales. It’s stolen from her lungs in the form of a long, low groan when he stuffs the tip past and the rim rides over the ridge. 

“Is that too much, baby? Yeah?” 

She suckles a bit of the sheet between her teeth when he mends the stretch of his sloppy, wet cockhead with a thumb that swipes from her leaky slit and meshes cum against his cock and the taut rim of her other hole.

“…That’s okay, we’ll get you there,” Harry coos, “That’s the hard bit all done, yeah?”

It’s all hard. Hard, vascular flesh like a rock spearing her open, sinking in, sedate and measured. Viciously careful and slick, accompanied by a vicious stretch, despite the lengthy preparation. He’s measured in the way he stuffs in, nearly centimeter by centimeter, pausing along the way down his shaft. Even still, it’s an ache that settles deep the further he sheathes — the kind she feels down to the marrow in the little bones constructing her spine, her pelvis, her ribs when they refuse to expand for her lungs. 

“Relax, sweetheart, relax. Squeezing me so snug.”

It’s just advice, but it’s strained; filthy. It makes her cunt twitch. 

“Push out a little for me. It’ll— yeah, slide in nice an’ easy if you do,” Harry coaxes, pausing the leisure roll forward of his hips. Her hole flutters over him. He makes it another inch.

“Just like that, little bird.”

She’s been holding her breath for twenty-three seconds by the time Harry pats at one of her hands and instructs, “Play with your pretty clit.”

It’s sore, but not in the way that it aches as he presses into her. The pads of her fingers brush milky cum that’s managed to seep out with the flex of her muscles, and they draw a circle over the sensitively overstimulated bud that droplets have leaked over. Her lips pry apart that way her fingertips pry bliss into the outstretched palms of her neurons, grappling for pleasure. 

“Oh.”

“S’it sore?” 

“Mm-Mhm.”

“But it feels good,” Harry states. 

It’s just that — a statement, no inquiry to the borderline prideful cadence of his words when he sinks in three-quarters of the way. It’s enough to have her breathlessly wheezing over her noises, digits stuttering in their shapes as she pinches at the hood. 

“Breathe,” Tiger chastises. 

For the first time, his voice is whetted, like the edge of a cutlass, and she imagines his dark eyebrows creasing. The tattoo of a ruddy handprint — a smack — gleans a loud cry enmeshed from the sheer sting of it and the way Y/N jolts, bouncing forward and back on unanticipated inches. It’s cruel. Mean with his peal of laughter.

He’s soft again. Mirthy. “You did that, not me.” 

“You startled me,” she argues. Her chortles flux into another, blunt, “Oh,” when Harry rocks out a little and back in, cooing in feigned ruth. 

“Oh, did I?” Harry murmurs, trailing a wide palm up the indent of her arched spine with shallow plunges, “Poor baby.”

She squirms when his fingertips wind to the vale of her waist, scrabbling up the ladder of her ribcage lightly. It’s only for a split second, but it draws a squawk and a string of giggles; in turn, a low hiss from him. 

“Fuck,” Harry grapples onto her hips, craning his neck, a grin lining his syllables when he admits, “Every time you laugh, s’like, squeezing me.” 

It’s devious — the way his palm scopes the cinched flesh in the same area it had the first time, reveling in the squeal the wriggling pads pry. Her jaw clinches and she nearly bites through her tongue when her teeth latch together. Despite the stretch, her hips lurch forward on their own volition and her knees shamber towards the headboard, the circles over her clit all but forgotten as her arms outstretch for freedom. It only gives him a wider canvas. 

A soft huff seeps from his nostrils, like the view of her hectically sprawling is entertainment. He pins her bones in place by the hips and lugs her back, sharply enough for her to groan at the pump into her. 

“No,” Harry scolds, tacking an ankle with his hand. He bends one of her knees back and keeps a grip over a love handle on the opposite side. “Where d’you think you’re going? I wasn’t done.” 

He’s polite enough to cease the tickle torture. Considerate, on his part, she supposes, since he’s got the sole of her foot aimed to the Rough sawn oak beamed ceiling. The gunge of kindling lust spumes, and it clogs the sharp anticipation of his thumb pressing to the tender spot between her heel and the ball of her foot, like cruor. Instead, Tiger hones on jabbing into her fluttery asshole, drawing a slew of progressively humiliating sounds. Her top teeth seal over the sheet and she gnaws the fabric in between her incisors like a feral dog. 

She doesn’t really get it until his balls are slapping against her flesh with the fervor of his tempo; what it’s like to be used and abused by Tiger. Mostly, it entails being glazed with cum, inside and out; utilizing the same loads to swipe over her clit that leaks from her sloppy cunt as he pounds into her ass with little mercy. No intent to give. And still, he gives plenty. She feels him deep, spearing somewhere between the knobs of her spine and the soft flesh sheathing her tummy. She can’t recall a time she’s felt so full, vena thrumming something sanguine mottled by him. The ache spurs the bliss building at her pulsing clit, and she retires to chew at the back of her free hand, tucked under her wet face. 

Just up until the point when he yanks at her hair from behind, spiking tingles at the crown of her head, and directs through husky breaths, “Sit up. Up. On your hands.” 

Y/N clambers. An inky forearm hitches over the column of her throat from behind. A sharper arch, a muscular bind over her neck, a palm that dwarfs the knob of her shoulder, and hammering at her backside with no remorse. His nails claw into her love handle, and in turn, Y/N scrapes at the tits of his mermaid, her flowy tendrils, her tail. 

“You really— are a little anal whore, aren’t you, little bird?” 

She slobbers over his forearm, “Yes, Sir— oh— shit, oh, fuck,” so he spiles her mouth with a couple of his fingers. She nips at his knuckles, and he digs green into her deltoid. 

“Fhuh—“ Y/N slurs around the digits. 

He strokes a stuttery whimper from her taste buds. 

She keens, shrill, when Tiger slips his fingers out and smears her own spit over her cheek, “Oh, fuck— you’re so deep—“

Her eyes are screwed, and even still she feels the pant of his grin against the opposite cheek. The way his lips ghost and graze her skin wetly with a low murmur, “Fuck, yeah.” 

He twists his head and siphons the same fingers to his own mouth, gets them wetter, and bats the hand between her legs away to pinch at her clit. To fuse saliva, and cum, and desperation, working ardent over her bud. 

“Such a fucking mess. S’leaking all over my balls, you know that?” Harry purrs, nipping at her earlobe when she whines, trembling, “M’gonna fuck it back into you, after.”

Y/N erupts. It spalls into flinders with sharp borders, somewhere between his cockhead burrowing deep in her tummy, the stretch around him, the pads swiping at her clit, and the filth he muzzles into her hair. She shakes like a waving bract, torn apart in his palms, spewing cries. The tight spasm over his cock has Harry chasing his own release, shuddering behind her and doubling down in a brutal tempo that draws soft whimpers from her mouth. The sharpest one comes when his chest rumbles flush with her back on a long groan, and he twitches in her as he presses deep and empties every bit that he can manage. 

Rough sex, even with a borderline stranger, merits a soft touch to meld the jagged edges of the shards back together. When he seeps out, hissing softly and bobbing, slicked with cum and lubricant, Y/N crumples into the sheets like the junctions of her joints have unfused, slipping from their sockets to melt away into a puddle. It provides an optimal view of her abused holes, one puckering at the air and dripping fresh cum. Just as he’d promised, Harry spoons a rill that trickles out with the pad of his thumb and brushes it back over the slick hole he’d just been tucked into. Feeds it back in to coax a mewl.

“Two for two,” Tiger parrots, dragging the backs of his knuckles up her thigh. It’s an obvious reference to two orgasms each, now, and wears a smile. 

If Y/N wasn’t so melty, she’d probably snort. She manages something like a grunt with her face planted to the mattress. She’s probably losing brain cells. The bed doesn’t feel breathable. 

Harry nudges at her hips until her pelvis sinks flush against the sheets and her feet dangle over the edge of the mattress. Then, he crawls up over her, cock brushing her clean skin soiled along the way. She rolls over against her will. Gets bracketed by his arms as he looms over, mussed, damp coils of his hair pendulous. 

“Hello.” 

She swallows. Her ass is going to absolutely ache tomorrow. Y/N finds she doesn’t mind. 

“…Hello.”   

“You took that well,” Harry tells her, head cocked and talc glinting. 

The boundaries of his ruddy mouth tick upwards into a lax smile, and even still, there’s an eagerly …awake mien to his composition. She wonders how, after that, and how his cock hasn’t gone down, a plurry in shade and sloppily oiled. It prods against the bone at the side of her pelvis. 

“You …gave it well,” she responds, forming the words despite the way they feel garbled in her mouth, between her parted teeth, off her lips like the crevices of her gums have been numbed with lidocaine. 

He ducks his chin and laughs. 

Y/N ends up lodged by his armpit, tangled by the firm muscle of his arms, thighs flush together, with her cheek squished to the plush of his pec; a cushion over where his heartbeat is clattering. 

“I’m all sticky.” 

“You like it,” Tiger sighs, raking a palm back through his tendrils, off his forehead, and musses the tousled curls there further. 

It feels nice when his fingertips graze up her nape, sliding into the forestry of her roots. They tug lightly at the follicles at the back of her skull in a way that makes euphoria seep down her nape. It settles in the first knob of her spine and slink through to the next. She rolls her shoulders. 

“D’you wanna shower? I’ve got one of those rain showerheads on the ceiling.”

If her inner thighs weren’t crusting over, the suggestion would probably feel like a much more intimate dyadic. Especially because she’s well aware he’ll slide in alongside her, slippery. Soapy froth sluicing down his abdomen, sudsy palms cupping at her backside, trailing between her thighs, and rinsing the evidence of their collaboration down the drain. It tastes like another sex tape altogether. 

Harry has grapefruit musk body wash and a citrusy shampoo in his shower. They’re the same ones she’ll lather into her own matted bird’s nest. 

He notes, from the sink, twisting the silvery band and thumbing over the center, where a tetragonal, incarnadine stone is seated, “You got my rings all sticky.” 

Y/N stretches her arms over her head. There’s semen spilling down the insides of her legs. She twists her head and meets him in the mirror just in time to see his eyes crest, his mouth purse and carve into a simper. 

“D’you wanna polish them off with your tongue?” 

[mreowsu]

woke up to a multitude of notifs from the previous one, it appears to have been well-recieved. in return, here is a thank you from me :)

DRABBLES, ONESHOTS / itoshi sae x fem!reader

part one

It didn't take long for friends and family back home to hear of you and Sae's rendezvous in España, and boy are they not happy.

cw my writing. both are 14-15. profanities. itoshi rin appearance yay. fluff

wc 4.1k

The ride back to the academy dorms was uneventful, save for the occasional celebratory chatter from the boys' team. You had tagged along on their bus after the match—what? Belonging to the female Re Al team, how could they possibly refuse their up and coming female striker?

Seated a few rows ahead of you, Sae kept his usual quiet, earbuds in and his focus elsewhere.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket. Notifications piled up, missed calls and texts flashing one after another. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as hopefully post-game excitement and congratulatory messages to be passed to Sae for those that couldn’t reach him. But once the bus pulled into the academy grounds, the increasing persistence became impossible to overlook.

Everyone got off the bus, leaving you and Sae to walking side-by-side homeward to the dorms. Sae barely spared you a glance as you sighed and pulled your phone out, scrolling through the chaos. The screen lit up with an endless flood of notifications—mentions, retweets, likes—your feed practically bursting at the seams.

It didn’t take long for the stunt you pulled to spread like wildfire. With cameras and the media stationed all over the stadium, both you and him in your little world had been immortalized from all possible perspectives.

X (or twt?) was most especially on fire.

“Did y’all see the way she just touched his hair? 😭” “Japan’s prodigies or Spain’s new power couple?” “The power she holds. I’m in shambles. Goodbye.” “#Hair goalz” “Sae is so real, I mean, if I were to be sweating with people watching, I’d want to look my best” “I dunno if I wanna be him or her” “Guys, may I remind you all that these are 14 year olds??”—

You scrolled further, only to be greeted by memes that sent a fresh wave of horror washing over you. Screenshots of Sae’s faintly pink ears were captioned with things like, “Bros blush is heard around the world” and “BREAKING NEWS: Japan’s prodigy caught slipping.”

Your personal favorite (if you could call it that) was a photo of you brushing back his bangs, captioned:

“Y/N L/N, certified hairdresser for future world cup winner LMFAOOOO”

“Ugh,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do they have to make memes out of everything?”

Sae’s gaze flicked to your phone for a second before he returned his attention to the road ahead. “You’re surprised?”

You sighed, shoving the phone into your pocket. “No, but I can’t believe they got that angle.”

“They got every angle,” Sae replied dryly, his tone as flat as ever.

Your steps slowed as you neared the dorms. You pulled out your phone again, scrolling through the messages until you found one that made your blood run cold.

You paled.

Among the sea of notifications was one from your mother. Her text was simple yet loaded:

Mom: “Call me. Now.”

All thoughts of internet chaos evaporated as you stared at your mother’s menacing message. The bold lettering glared ominously at you through the screen, carrying more weight than it had any right to.

You groaned, slumping against Sae’s side with all the subtlety of a boulder rolling downhill. His body stiffened at the sudden contact, and his eyes darted toward you, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually impassive face.

How had she even managed to make two words sound so menacing? “How did she even make it bold?” you muttered under your breath, staring at the text like it might explain itself. You held the phone up for emphasis, and for your companion to see. “Where did she get the bold font? Why is it in bold?” You cried.

He sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. “Maybe she just wants you to call her.”

“No kidding, genius,” you shot back, glaring at him for his unhelpfulness. “But it’s scary when it’s in the bold font.”

Sae rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about your overreaction before leaning just far enough to escape your weight. “Just call her already.”

You groaned again, dragging yourself upright and glaring at your phone one last time. “If I don’t survive this call, tell her it was because of the bold font.”

Sae’s expression didn’t budge, but you caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”

You shot him a glare, “very funny.”

Resigning yourself to your fate, you tapped the call button and braced for impact. The line barely rang twice before your mother’s voice burst through.

“You’re too young for this nonsense!” she started, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “You went to Spain to play football, not to… to… canoodle!! Do you know how many relatives have called me asking what’s going on between the two of you?!”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh at her tone, though you quickly tried to stifle it, but upon realizing what she just said, your face heated up.

“It wasn’t like that!” you protested.

“Then why does it look like that?!” she snapped back.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “It’s just the media blowing things out of proportion. Sae and I are just friends.”

Friends. The word tasted bitter, foreign, almost hollow when it came to you. But were you guys really? It didn't quite fit the shape of what your relationship had become. It didn’t feel right—not with the way he always lingered just a little too long by your side, or the way your heart skipped at his smallest actions. Hearing the word friends, Sae would be lying if he said he didn't so much as feel an undeniable pang in his chest.

Neither of you said anything more, or lack-thereof, though. The moment passed like a fleeting shadow.

“Good,” she said, but her tone didn’t soften. “Now go find him. He’s not getting out of this.”

“MOM!” you exclaimed, your voice shooting up an octave in sheer disbelief.

“You’re in it together. If you’re getting scolded, so is he. That’s how teamwork works.”

“I don’t think that’s how teamwork works.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she snapped through gritted teeth. “Go find him. Now.”

You stared at your phone, utterly baffled, before slumping with an exasperated groan. “How does she do that?” you muttered.

Sae, who had been observing your side of the conversation with mild interest, raised an eyebrow when you lowered the phone.

“Well?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Do what?”

“She sounds bold-lettered again,” you complained, gesturing dramatically at the phone. “Like, how does she make it sound like that? Bold and threatening all at once? Is this a skill all mothers have?”

“Maybe you should just listen to her,” Sae deadpanned.

You glared at him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “She wants—”

Just then, the unthinkable happened. Your mother, seemingly defying all odds and cellphones, suddenly went on speaker without warning, her voice ringing out loud and clear.

“I can hear him, let me talk to him now!” She demanded, the exclamation marks practically visible in her tone. “NOW!”

“—to yell at you too.”

You froze, and he blinked, looking at the device in your hand, utterly unfazed. “You know,” Sae began, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “I think this is a good time for me to leave.”

You turned to glare at him, pulling him back toward you with a surprising amount of force, making him stumble slightly.

“Get back here!” you hissed, your hand still gripping his arm as he tried to step away. “You’re not leaving me to face her alone!”

Sae, who had been halfway through his dorm, sighed. “You’re not exactly giving me much of a choice.”

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. With a determination, you pulled him back outside the room, holding the phone between the two of you as your mother’s voice filled the space.

“You both are in so much trouble!” Your mother practically shouted from the phone, her frustration evident. “I should’ve known something was going on when I saw the media coverage. I’m not having my kids make headlines for this!”

Sae, who had remained unfazed so far, leaned casually against the wall, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t make headlines. That’s all on you,” he teased lightly.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his response. "What the hell do you mean? You literally walked toward me with a fucking spotlight on your head!" 

“WATCH THAT TONGUE—I’m not done with this nonsense!”

You shot him a warning look, silently begging him not to make it worse. But that only seemed to entertain him more.

“Look, I get it,” you said, speaking directly into the phone, trying to regain some control of the situation. “It’s not a big deal, okay? Like I said, it’s just the media blowing things out of proportion.”

“I don’t care about the media! I care about you two being sensible!” your mother’s voice cracked a little, clearly not impressed by your attempt to defuse the situation. “Now, Sae, you better not be leading my child astray. I want you both to keep your heads in the game.”

Without a word, you shoved the phone toward Sae, who had barely reacted to the situation. He shot you a look, you mouthed: ‘she’s talking to you’. You gestured dramatically at ‘you’. 

He stared at the device like it was an inconvenience, but eventually took it, his usual indifference in place. 

You were both just standing there, patiently, albeit strained, waiting in silence for the next round of scolding from your mother when a new, unmistakable voice entered the boxing ring somewhere in the background.

You both froze. Sae nearly dropped the phone, his grip faltering. You couldn't help but snicker at the rare look on his face. The last thing you expected was to hear that sweet but dangerously knowing voice—his mother, unmistakably. That sweet but unnerving voice was enough to snap him out of whatever bravado he'd been putting on. He looked at the phone as though it might bite him.

“Hi, Mrs. L/n, is my son on the line? I’d like to talk to him,” she said again, though the distance made it sound muffled, like she was halfway across the room.

Sae had managed to escape his parents’ wrath for a while, but that was about to change, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit victorious.

His brow furrowed, unable to mask his surprise. Sae ran a hand through his hair with a resigned sigh, clearly not surprised by the turn of events. "Of course," he muttered under his breath, the weight of it all sinking in. "My family would have contacted yours the moment they caught wind of whatever the hell the two of us were doing in Spain."

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, crossing your arms with a knowing smile. "Oh, so you knew this was coming?"

He looked at you with a dry smirk. "I mean, it's not like we were exactly being subtle, huh?" he added, his usual smugness creeping back into his tone. "It wasn’t my fault you decided to get all touchy in front of the cameras."

You glared at him with all your might, but your argument died on your tongue, clearly defeated. "Unbelievable," you muttered.

The phone crackled slightly, and then his mother’s voice came through.

"Hello?"

The both of you stayed silent, catching each other's staring before you took the liberty to answer. "Hello?" you greeted, your voice slightly uncertain.

"Ah, Y/n, so sorry for the sudden intrusion," Sae’s mother chimed in, her voice full of sweetness, but you knew carried a weight behind it. Locked and loaded, reserved to open fire only at Sae. "My son is always so unpredictable… He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?"

You couldn’t help but grin. “No trouble at all, I promise.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well, I do hope he’s keeping you focused. I did hear something about hairdressers…” She trailed off, clearly referencing the media frenzy from earlier. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you to take care of each other.”

You blinked in surprise. The sudden shift from the playful teasing to genuine concern caught you off guard, but you did your best to play it cool. “We’re doing fine, really.”

“I’m sure you are, darling,” she continued, her voice warm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “Just remember to keep your heads in the game. I want you both succeeding, not making headlines for nonsense.”

You glanced at Sae, who was clearly pretending not to listen. “Don’t worry, we’re focusing on football,” you reassured, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to hear,” she said, her tone finally lightening up. "From you, atleast."

You raised an eyebrow at her words, catching the subtle jab aimed at Sae. You could feel his irritation radiating off him, though his face betrayed nothing more than a slight twitch of his brow. Smirking, you mouthed; 'you’re not off the hook yet.'

Then her voice came through the speaker again, calm but firm. “Now, darling, be a dear and hand the phone over to Sae. I’d like a word with my son.”

Your grin widened. “Of course,” you said sweetly, holding the phone out to him. “It’s for you.”

Sae sighed, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Tell her I’m not here,” he muttered.

“Pretty sure she already knows you are,” you replied, shaking the phone for emphasis. “No escaping this one, superstar.”

He shot you one last glare. "You’re not gonna let me forget this, are you?"

“Not a chance,” you replied, your grin widening as he took the phone from your hands. “But hey, at least now we know what happens when you get too cocky.”

Sae let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly resigned to all this. His usual deflection didn’t work as well this time.

He lifted the phone to his ear, "Hi, Mom." He muttered, trying his best to sound nonchalant, but his posture had stiffened. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Don’t you “Hi, Mom” me, ITOSHI SAE!” his mother’s voice finally snapped. “What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about you two? Running around Spain causing a spectacle for the media, playing to their little games!?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “So she’s got the bold font superpower too, huh?” you muttered mostly to yourself, but loud enough for also him to hear. The sheer power of that 'ITOSHI SAE' was like a force of nature.

His teal eyes hardened, shooting you a glare, his discomfort obvious, but you could tell he wasn’t used to this level of public embarrassment. His mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, but now she was using her bold-letter power on him too. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice dry and flat. “We’re just—”

“No excuses, Sae. I’ve seen the footage. I’ve heard the rumors. You’re not going to get away with this one. Not while I’m around,” she interrupted, her voice unyielding.

You leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh as his mother’s voice carried through the speaker, scolding him in rapid-fire Japanese. Sae’s expression didn’t change, though his lips pressed into a thin line.

After a few minutes, he handed the phone back to you. “She’s done,” he said flatly, though the faint pink tint to his ears gave him away.

You took the phone, grinning. “She gave you the ‘focus on football, not nonsense’ speech, didn’t she?”

“She’s very thorough,” he deadpanned.

“Welcome to my world,” you said with a shrug, bringing your phone on speaker to bid your farewells.

Your mother’s voice came through the speaker, her tone still a little sharp. “Sae, this better not happen again…”

Sae braced himself, his expression turning completely blank as he muttered a weak greeting. “Hi, Ma'am.” He visibly straightened, his usual confidence momentarily chipped away by the dual maternal interrogation.

“Sae, behave,” his mother chimed in. “And don’t get each other in trouble. I’m trusting you to be the responsible one here. You should know better.”

Your mother didn’t miss a beat, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Exactly. Boys are supposed to protect, not cause chaos. How could you let this happen under your watch, Sae?”

You shot a glance at Sae, his face betrayed none of the usual confidence, just a tense concentration.

You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin as Sae’s blank expression barely wavered, save for the faintest furrow of his brow. His mother’s voice, now layered with a hint of amusement, added to the jab. “Honestly, Sae, I thought you were more sensible than this. I expected better from you.”

You could almost hear the corners of your mother’s mouth curve up. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m taking care of it,” she replied with a playful note. “You know how it is with these kids—they think they’re invincible.”

Despite the constant jabs, you knew Sae wasn’t the type to let anything truly reckless happen—not to you, not to himself. If anything, he was the one who kept everything grounded, often steering things back on track. Yet here he was, taking the brunt of both mothers’ wrath, enduring their playful scolding like the stoic shield he was.

Sae sighed quietly, and you nudged his arm gently. “Hey, just look at it this way—you’re their golden boy, hm?”

Sae's teal eyes rolled a sideways glance at you, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"Well, Y/n.." His mother trailed off. “Please make sure my son is behaving himself. He has a tendency to… push boundaries when he thinks no one’s watching.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Uh, I’ll do my best?” you replied hesitantly, shooting a glance at Sae, who looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“And one more thing,” she added, her voice firm but tinged with an almost playful seriousness. “Don’t let him get away with anything when it comes to you. Don’t let him have his way, understand?”

Your face flushed instantly, the implication of her words hitting you like a freight train. “W-Wait, what—”

Sae, who had been silently enduring the conversation, finally turned his head sharply toward the phone, his ears turning a suspicious shade of pink. “Mom.” He interjected, his tone low and warning.

But his mother was undeterred. “Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me, Sae! I mean it." Then, his mother released a sigh. “It’s just.. the two of you are out there in Spain... no one else can keep an eye on you. Be rational, okay? Don’t give us a reason to fly over there and check on you myself.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, despite the heat still burning your cheeks. “Noted, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sae groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you done?”

“For now,” she replied smoothly. “I’m just making sure things are in order. Y/n, thank you for putting up with him. You’re a saint.”

Sae muttered something under his breath, “unbelievable.”

You snorted. “Of course, Mrs. Itoshi. Someone's gotta bash him in his head from time to time.”

Even with his mom’s playful but pointed implication, you knew better. Sae would never do anything out of line with you, nor anything that would make you uncomfortable. For all his aloofness and sharp edges, he’d always been careful around you—attentive in his own way.

The thought softened the embarrassment lingering in your chest, and you glanced at him, his hand still dragging down his face as he muttered under his breath despite his irritation.

“But don’t think I won’t call again if I hear more nonsense.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath at the thought, but the tension didn’t seem to break on Sae’s side. He eventually muttered, “We'll do our best, Mom, Mrs. L/n.”

“Good,” Sae’s mom said firmly, a slight note of relief in her voice. There was a faint shuffling sound on the other end, like the phone being passed, until your mother’s voice entered the conversation. “I trust you’ll both be on your best behavior.”

You chimed in quickly, trying to get the conversation over with. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Itoshi, Mom. We’ll keep things in check.”

Your mother let out a hum of approval. “Good. And remember, we’re just a call away if you need a reminder.”

“Duly noted,” you replied with a nervous laugh, glancing at Sae.

With that, the call ended, leaving you standing there, Sae released an exasperated sigh and immediately dropped his shoulders in relief. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Sae shook his head, stepping back into his room. “Next time, leave me out of it.”

You smiled. Despite the scolding and the embarrassment, there was something undeniably comforting about moments like these—a reminder of home, even when you were miles away.

You were about to turn and leave when something inside you decided it wasn’t time to bail just yet. You stepped forward, casually walking right past Sae into his room before the door could fully shut behind him.

Sae froze, slitted eyes widening in surprise. “What—”

You shrugged again, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “No reason. Just hanging around.”

Before he could protest, a sudden ring cut through the air. The sound was familiar, but louder than usual. You glanced at Sae, eyebrow raised, but his face shifted quickly from surprise to annoyance as he grabbed his phone.

“Who’s calling you now?” you asked, leaning back against his desk as he answered the phone.

At first, Sae’s face was unreadable, but then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You could hear his voice, but just barely. You noticed and gave a slight smirk. “Guess it’s your turn for Rin’s wrath.”

Rin. The name was almost like a curse for Sae—he loved his brother, of course, but when it came to their sibling dynamics, it was always a bit chaotic.

You couldn’t help but lean in, curiosity piqued. Expecting his mom to be back on the line, you were caught off guard when Sae’s little brother spoke up from the other end.

“Hey, nii-chan,” Rin’s voice sounded loud and clear, filled with that usual mix of child-like wonder and boyish innocence. “I’m hearing things from the media again... What’s going on with you and Y/n? You two are seriously causing a stir.”

Sae’s face flushed even more, a mix of frustration and, if you were reading him right, embarrassment.

“You’re already hearing about that, huh?” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Of course I am!” Rin responded, completely unbothered by his brother’s apparent discomfort. “But seriously, are you two that close now? Should I be worried?”

You almost snorted at the lighthearted tone in Rin’s voice. It was all teasing, but there was an undertone of real curiosity—or maybe just a little bit of jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk at how Rin always found ways to poke fun at Sae, no matter how far apart they were.

Sae didn’t answer right away, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as he sighed. “Just... keep your nose out of this, Rin.”

You snickered at his reaction, walking closer and casually sitting down on Sae’s bed, still enjoying his discomfort. You decided to butt in, taking hold of his phone.

“Hey, Rin—”

“Y/n! What in the world are you two doing over there?” Rin’s voice came through sharp.

“Uh, playing football?” you tried, his sudden change in tone was something you weren’t expecting, but has anything ever went your way ever for the past day?

“You know what I mean,” he whined. “I can’t go five minutes without seeing some clip of you two looking… weird! People are saying stuff!”

You leaned back against the headboard, glancing at Sae, who had now propped himself up on one elbow on his desk, silently listening. “Rin, it’s nothing. The media’s just exaggerating.”

“Oh, really? Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ when she’s running her hands through your hair, Sae,” Rin shot, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Sae, finally engaging, sat up and snatched his phone from your hand, holding it to his ear. “What’s your problem, Rin?” he asked bluntly.

“My problem?” Rin’s voice grew louder. “My problem is that you two are over there acting all… close, while I’m stuck here dealing with everything alone!”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Sae sighed. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like we’re having fun. We’re working, just like you.”

“You don’t get it,” Rin muttered, his voice quieter now. “You both left. And it’s… it’s hard seeing you two together there. Without me.”

Your chest ached at his words. Taking the phone back, you softened your tone. “Rin, we miss you, too. It’s hard for us here, you know that. But we’ll come back—this isn’t forever.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it sounded half-hearted. “Just… stop making headlines, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

You laughed, and even Sae’s lips twitched upward. “No promises,” you teased, earning a low groan from Rin before he hung up.

As you set the phone aside, Sae leaned back against his desk-chair, arms crossed. “He’s such a pain,” he muttered, though there was a faint fondness in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But he’s our pain.”

“Whatever, I want you out of my room before dinner time. I have to take a shower.”

“Bleh!”

“💢💢💢”

* * *

© 2024 mreowsu

[renranram]

i CANT stop thinking about the idea of a schlatt x camgirl reader fic

Pose for the fans

nsfw

fem!reader x loser loner pathetic schlatt

reader is a cam girl whilst schlatt is her biggest donator and fan!!

you gasps, " oh my god! user jnschlt thank you for your donation! " you clasp your hand together, " 'hi baby, here's some 500, can you lift your skirt up and show us how pretty you are? ' " the tts reads out

you giggles softly, " am i really that pretty? " you twirl your hair with your fingers as you sit on your knees, slowly, teasingly pulling up your skirt to reveal a lacey pink panties

the live chat immediately went into shambles, spamming compliments whilst schlatt, chuckles, amused, his hands already on his pants, before typing on his keyboard, ' baby, how many more to get that dildo on your pretty pink pussy hm? ' he donates as you read it

" hm.. eager aren't we? " you tease your viewers before gently picking up the pink dildo, showing it off to the camera, " i think we're too fast to be in there " she giggles softly

as you spread your legs, moving your panties to the side to reveal, your already wet and hot pussy, " is this what you guys want? " you flaunt your pussy as the chat speeds up

" fuck.. " schlatt groans out, chuckling in amusement as he slowly palms himself, " dumb fucking whore " he moans out, sending another donation

' jnschlt sent 1000, put a show on us baby ' the tts reads out as you gasp, " jnschlt! oh my god you're really spoiling me "

" you want a show huh? then ill give you a show " your lips form into a cheeky smile, and with a teasingly slow pace, you take off your panties, your hands playing with your folds

meanwhile schlatt lifts up his shirt and lowers his pants, his eyes stuck to the screen as if he was hypnotized, you rub yourself, moaning in pleasure, " you enjoying the show? "

the chat spams yes, ranging from compliments, degrades, and slurs, " ah fuck " you throws your head back as you plays with your own buds, you hand slowly squeezing your breasts

schlatt groans out, impatient, but he continues to admire your body, his eyes eye fucking the girl on his monitor

he pushes his head back as he leans his back on his seat, for a loser who has nothing to do with his life schlatt found a new obsession on some random camgirl on a random site he saw

you continue to rub your clit as you bite your lip, " shit... ", spreading your legs more to show your wet juices on your pussy as schlatt fasten his pace, grabbing a nearby lube to lube up his dick

after playing with your pussy, you enter a finger as you moan out softly, as schlatt groans, ' jnschlt donated 5000, baby, i dont have the time for this, please ' you gasp

chuckling, thinking how pathetic he is before shrugging, " fineee, you're so impatient " you giggle softly, grabbing the dildo

teasing your hole by slapping the pink silicone on your already sensitive clit, as you moan out, pushing the tip slowly, just to tease her viewers too

" what a fucking whore jesus fucking christ " schlatt smiles, he fastens his pace as you gasp, finally entering the entire size in your pussy

" oh my god, fuck.. i forgot this is like.. 7 inches or something " you chuckle, as you continue to thrust in and out the dildo, replying back with a moan

" fuck.. exactly my size " schlatt mumbles, shifting on his seat as he continues to jerk himself off

" ngh fuck.. it feels so good " you moan out, as you maintain eye contact with the camera, " it feels so good daddies "

" feels really fucking good.. i feel so fucking- ah.. full " you continue, " fuck.. holy shit.. " schlatt moans back, fisting his dick with the palm of his hands

" what a fucking whore, fucking bitch.. fuck.. im gonna.. im gonna fucking shove my cock on your pussy when i see you.. " he mutters, as his adrenaline hits and yours too as you fasten your thrusts, moaning and whimpering

" ah ah ah oh my god " you moans out, rolling your eyes back in pleasure, braindead from all the pleasure and adrenaline your getting

" fuck... what a fucking slut.. fucking cum slut.. " schlatt groans out, as his precum leaks on his tip, grabbing more lube so he can lube himself up

" ah shit- i-im fucking cumming " you stammer, feeling a hot pool on your stomach as you bite your lip, " fuck.. im cumming too " schlatt mutters, acting as if he's talking to you

you continue to thrust in the silicone in your sensitive and sore pussy, fucking your brains out as schlatt's movements follow your thrusts

and after a few thrusts, you came, shaking in pleasure as you squirt out your juices while schlatt came too, his semen on his monitor, covering your panting figure

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: and its a double update!!! im showcasing a lot of side characters that will eventually be a huuuuge part of the plot (winks). also the brewing tension. let me know what you folks think about this

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel @callsignwidow @gothicwidowsworld

2010, Istanbul Park

The necklace sits heavy on Y/N's neck. She had been fiddling with it the whole morning. There was something about the internal and unspoken pressure happening in the Red Bull garage ever since both of their drivers tied their points for the championship. She have heard more conversations here and there about who would Red Bull side with, their older driver or the rookie.

It was very stressful for Y/N to spend time with the two drivers involved with the discussions.

"Nervous?" Sebastian noticed.

"Can't help it" she gave a weak smile.

"For me or for Mark?"

Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As if she hasn't had enough of this whole which driver would you pick to side on. She just gestured that her lips are sealed meaning that she won't take anyone's side.

"Stop trying to get my sister on your side" Mark apparently overheard the conversation "Blood runs thicker than water, am i right sis?"

"I'm not gonna comment on that"

"See what you are doing to my sister, you are ruining this family Seb" Mark overdramatically reacts

"Your sister is my bestfriend, get over it" Sebastian rebutted.

Bestfriend.

And just like that, there was a pang in Y/N's heart. Maybe another factor of the heavy feeling is that she has been doing her best to bury her feelings for Sebastian. But after the whole Monaco pre-birthday thing, every effort that she has to bury her feelings is thrown out of the window. She was hopelessly inlove with the man and Sebastian was very blind about it.

"Just have a good race, okay?"she reminded the two.

"I think we will score some good points today" Sebastian confidently stated.

"That's the fighting spirit" Mark cheered on.

It was moments like this that Y/N was reminded that the two Red Bull drivers are not fighting each other as the team pictured them to be. They may showcase competitiveness during the races but that's just normal. Outside the track, the two share a very friendly atmosphere with each other.

Soon, the two set off to go their respective cars. Y/N watched the race outside of the driver's room for a change. Ever since, she started to hear the gossiping of the Red Bull crew about Seb and Mark, she opted to be more around them. She wanted to know what they are saying to warn the drivers or make a possible plan on how to resolve if ever the situation escalates.

The race started out well with Mark leading comfortably. Sebastian was behind and Lewis was next. It was going really well for Mark and if Y/N have to say it then he might win another race. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been challenged by the two McLarens of Hamilton and Button.

Then it happened all so quickly.

Y/N let out a gasp as the two Red Bull drivers crashed with each other. One was sent down to the gravel while the other managed to push back to the track. Y/N was too focused that she didn't notice that the cameras were pointed at her.

'Y/N Webber

Mark Webber's sister and assistant, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend.'

The whole garage was in shambles as the radio messages from Sebastian sounds really angry. The amount of swear words in the radio was a stark difference from the jolly Sebastian that she was speaking to a couple of minutes ago. Y/N looked worriedly as Sebastian goes to the stewards.

"It was Vettel's fault"

"No, Mark Webber wasn't looking and giving him space"

"That's stupid, it was clearly Sebastian Vettel's fault"

Watching the replays, Y/N hates to admit it but this one is on Sebastian. She could hear the discussion even becoming more rampant as Sebastian reaches the garage.

A permanent scowl graces his face as he talks to Helmut and Christian about the incident that occurred. Y/N followed to check up on him and she can't help but overhear the conversation.

"That was not right, this shouldn't have happened" Christian lectures "It will cost us a lot of points with the two McLaren looking for two podium finish today"

"Don't look and point fingers at me, I'm not the only one who crashed" Sebastian clearly not thinking his words through.

"Sebastian this should never happen again, understood?" Christian firmly ordered

"But it isn't right to blame Sebastian, the boy is right there were two of them there" Helmut comes to the defense of Sebastian "It was clear that Mark did not make way for him resulting to the crash"

Y/N felt herself getting red. It was clear as a day that the crash was not caused by Mark. It was getting clearer for her that someone has been playing favorites.

"See, you better have word with Mark" Sebastian said.

"Unbelievable" Y/N muttered.

She was taught that if she couldn't say anything good then she probably shouldn't say anything at all so she walks away. She decided not to show herself even after Mark got a podium finish.

Her sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed but Sebastian just let her be.

2010, Silverstone Circuit

Things at Red Bull garage has gone from bad to worse. It was difficult now to hang out with Mark or Sebastian as the two drivers have intended everything to be a competition. Y/N didn't want to see any part of this which is why she is currently doing babysitting duties at Mercedes.

It was a weird set-up seeing how one of Red Bull's employee is staying at the pristine white facility of Mercedes—she sticks out like a sore thumb. But Mick Schumacher only wants Y/N to be with him as he watches his father race. It has always been that case ever since Y/N met Mick when he was around 4 years old.

"Y/N, are you not scared for your brother and Seb?" Mick asked as the two of you watched the cars go out for the formation lap.

"I used to be scared" she still is "But its something that they love"

"Mama says Papa gives her a lot of stress when he races. I hope there is no aksident"Mick's tone was with a slight worry.

"Your Papa will be okay, he is a legend"Y/N assures.

The cars are now slowly lining up to the starting grid. Sebastian was on pole while Mark was the 2nd one so they were sharing a Red Bull front row. It only made Y/N worry even more because race starts are quite chaotic here in Silverstone.

"Mark and Seb must be really lucky to be at the front"Mick commented

"I sure hope so"

The lights started flashing and the infamous lights out and away we go went off. It was indeed chaotic at the start with Sebastian and Mark neck to neck with each other. They were both trying to take the lead even if it means pushing the other off track.

"OH FUCK" Y/N immediately covered the ears of Mick as the collision was broadcasted.

Mark managed to go through but Sebastian had puncture. The German was obviously mad for losing crucial places.

"What happened Y/N to Mark and Seb, I thought they are teammates" was the confused question of Mick.

She sighs. Her thoughts are echoing what Mick just said. What happened to them.

"Mick,they are still teammates its just that they also have to compete with each other. Its a sports and sometimes we lose,sometimes we win"Y/N tried to explain it to 10-year-old Mick.

She could already imagine the chaos in the Red Bull garage. She hears the commentaries that maybe this was Webber's revenge for Istanbul. The headache that will emerge for her after this whole race will be very difficult to ignore.

"Y/N if I become an f1 driver,would you come see me?"Mick asked

Its like heaven sent an angel in the form of Mick for Y/N. When she hears him talk it feels as if the world is slightly a little simpler and better. How she wish she lives in that same bubble as Mick.

"I won't crash, I promise"Mick added

Young Mick is still very young but he really dreams to be a Formula 1 driver like his father. Y/N could feel grey hairs developing if she sees Mick in an F1 car.

"Of course Mick"

"Good"Mick grinned "Oh look Y/N your brother is leading! Go Mark Webbahhhhhh"

The cheers of the little Schumacher made Y/N grin. She will deal with all the Red Bull stress later.

2010, Hockenheimring

Usually, Y/N likes getting her coffee at the catering but she doesn't feel like interacting with any Red Bull team for this morning. This is why the Webber girl is seen queuing up in a local Starbucks.

She was just about to sit down and wait for her coffee when a random man bumped her. It sent all her paper flying and Y/N could only grumble since the man didn't even look at her to help.

"Some people these days lack manners"she huffed in frustration.

It was a good thing that someone was helping her picking up the paper. She looked at the bracelets adorning her wrist and the long blonde hair tied up into a bun, thank God for a woman.

"Thank you so much for helping me" Y/N started "You really didn't have to"

"Nonsense, it will be rude to just stare at you picking up your papers"the woman has a thick German accent, similar to Sebastian.

She is probably local, Y/N thinks.

"Still thank you" Y/N politely insisted "Do you want to sit with me, the whole cafe is full"

"Of course"

Y/N wasn't usually chatty but the woman is very comfortable to talk to. She mentioned that she was a local but she lives a bit far from here and that she was only here for the weekend. Y/N shared how she is also here for the weekend.

"Wait are you going to watch Formula 1?" she quizzed

Y/N was about to answer when she heard the call of the barista. he quickly picked up her coffee and went back to her new friend.

"No way, you are Y/N?THE Y/N Webber?" the girl repeated.

Y/N chuckled. It wasn't usual that she has been recognized by formula 1 fans. She felt red as she admits that she is a bit flattered that she knows her name.

"I didn't know I am famous around here"Y/N joked

"Sebastian always talks about you, I was really looking forward to see you later at the garage"

Oh? Y/N thinks there is only one Sebastian that she knows.

"My name is Hanna, Hanna Prater" she introduced "I'm Sebastian's childhood bestfriend"

2010, Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps

Sebastian was bitter. He felt as if he lost a golden opportunity by not being able to score any points today. He is so bitter that he choose not to celebrate with the team tonight and he intended to stay holed up in his hotel room.

However, after a while,he grew tired of the hotel room walls so he ended up walking at the rooftop of the hotel.

Only,he wasn't the only one there.

"Hey stranger" he called out "I haven't seen you in Red Bull garage for a while"

Y/N turned around and she smiled when she met his eyes.

He doesn't understand how she does it but everything seems to melt in the background when she does this. It felt like he was back in his rookie days when they met up at the rooftops and talk for hours. It was much more simpler back then.

"I have been busy.. socializing" Y/N replied.

They both know that was a lie. Y/N was obviously using socializing as a front when in truth is she doesn't like to mingle with the toxicness of the Red Bull garage. But, Sebastian lets it slide.

"Is it bad that I missed you and I want you to stay at the garage?"Sebastian popped the question out of the blue.

"I'll be there as Mark's sister and his assistant, I don't think it will work well with the situation" Y/N informed.

There it goes again. This was that line that Sebastian has been hindering him to confess or ask her out.

It felt so stupid that he can flirt with anyone with ease but when it comes to Y/N, its so hard.He shouldn't have been scared of Mark, he is never scared of Mark (and it shows multiple times on track). But the thing that Sebastian knows is that Y/N has high regards for her brother and Sebastian didn't want to put a strain in their family.

"How are you feeling with the race today?"Y/N asked, diverting the topic.

"I could have been better." Sebastian sighs "Maybe I should train over and over again"

"Don't push yourself, you are still in the pool for the championship" Y/N assures

The championship. It's everything that Sebastian has ever thought of lately. Its within his reach and he really wants to extend a lead with it but somehow its not working. He really thinks that there is a high possibility that he can get his first championship this year.

"The championship must feel really nice" Y/N comments as she observes the smile on Sebastian's face

"I mean that's why were all racing dangerously" Sebastian chuckles.

No sane man would want to race in harsh conditions or beyond normal speed limit without any incentives.

"Just don't lose yourself"Y/N said "I worry about you Seb"

He acknowledges that. He is not dumb that the Red Bull crew has been pitting him and Webber against each other. In the end, it places a pressure on both of them to perform well because all that Red Bull cares about is who will bring the victory. The more likely victor will be the more favored one.

"We'll be alright" Sebastian comforts.

Even if this is all a lie, the two finds that comfort and repeat it to themselves. Maybe if they repeat it a lot then maybe it will end up coming true.

[semisentientseafood]

My switch camera roll is gonna be in shambles by the end of this fest bro

[kanakori]

i can't remember whether i ever posted this gifset but i just found it in my camera roll and i'm in shambles

[givethemsmut]

Dom Mysterio x Reader

Chapter Thirty-One | Where It All Started…

“Are you gonna answer that?” Dom’s husky voice was wrapped in a breathless moan when I stopped swaying my hips altogether.

I looked up at Dom with tears in my eyes. “I can’t do this. I want to, I do, but I can’t. Maybe too much has happened or maybe I’m not ready to say goodbye like this. We both messed up so much.”

“Are you serious? We’ve done this thousands of times. You know we are end game. You can pretend to move on, fuck as many people as you need to but I’m the one picking of the pieces.”

I grabbed my phone and slipped off Dom carefully, picking up my robe I wrapped it around me and went down stairs. Far away from temptation.

“Finn? How’s your flight?” I picked up on the millionth ring.

Finn: You’re alive! My flight got cancelled. Apparently there’s a storm in London. Mind if I crash? Beats a hotel room.

Me: Yeah, come over. Dom is here though… just a heads up.

Finn: He bothering you?

Dom was standing at the top of the stairs listening with his joggers hanging low on his hips when he shouted. “Bothering her? How can I bother her, Finn, when she’s mine? This is my house.”

Turning it off speaker phone I agreed to see Finn in about two hours before I hung up. Slamming my phone down I glared at him. “You don’t get to sabotage every relationship I have. We need to move on, your words.”

“Pick a fucking stranger. Pick someone I don’t work with.”

“You weren’t the only one who fell in love with wrestling. I was there for matches, training, press, live shows, signings, paper views - I love it all too. My only friends are in WWE. You don’t get to force me to love you and everything your life is just to claim I don’t deserve even table scraps.” I headed for the theater, where I lived, and slammed the door.

Dom wasn’t going to make me invisible just so he felt better about us ending. He wasn’t going to force me to give up parts of my life so he felt better. I was just as much WWE as he was.

Finn arrived hours later with delays and I had even noticed Dom’s truck was absent from the driveway. “He really fled when he heard I was coming?”

I shrugged, leading him further into the house, where I was pouring two drinks. “Are you still medicating?”

Sipping my whiskey sour I rolled my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying you could stay. I lost a baby and the person I loved. You’d be fucked up too.”

Finn’s arms wrapped around me tightly without saying anything.

D O M ‘ S P O V

I convinced Liv to stay in San Diego only so I could keep tabs on Finn staying at my house. It was selfish and stupid but I couldn’t help it.

I still had access to all the cameras from my phone. Something I had installed to make sure she stayed safe while I was away. I saw exactly when he arrived but I didn’t want to rush in. I was waiting for the perfect time to catch them.

Finn was a mentor to me. Hell, a friend. A married friend who was leading her on.

I thought fucking her in front of him was going to stop him from wanting her but it didn’t.

Liv was pawing at me from by my side, her mouth on my ear and her tits pressed against me. “What are you watching?”

Locking my phone I shrugged her off. “Nothing, ring door bell went off.”

“Are you using me to make her jealous?” The desperation in her voice wanted me to say no.

“We broke up. It’s just not that simple when we own property, just lost a baby, finding out she had an aboration at seventeen with our first baby, and now is fucking Finn.” I looked at her like she shouldn’t have asked.

Her hand smoothed down me and cupped my crotch. “I could give you a baby…”

“You’re champ and we have mania next month in Vegas. I don’t want you to give me a kid, I want you on your knees giving me head.”

I didn’t actually but if her mouth was preoccupied we wouldn’t have to talk. Small talk, I hated it.

Watching Liv get on her knees between my open legs I contemplated the mess my life was right now. In shambles actually. Nothing was how it should be, fate kept getting in our way. We fought every feeling, fought everyone who doubted us, fought the realities of adulthood, fought to make it work and now we lost.

I wasn’t paying attention to Liv at all when my phone rang in my hand and I answered it with my eyes closed. As soon as I heard nothing on the other end my heart dropped.

“What happened?” I stood up, brushing her off and was turned off entirely when I put myself back together.

“It’s me… Finn. You should get here. I knew it was bad but not this bad.” His voice was paralyzed, void of emotion and the knot in my stomach grew.

“What the fuck happened, Finn?” I grabbed my keys and fled out the doors before Liv could even ask why.

When I got to our street I saw the ambulance in our driveway and the void in my chest where my heart was suppose to be ached. Barely parking I got out and b-lined it to my front door when I saw her on the couch, fragile and broken.

Suddenly, I didn’t see her as this strong badass putting me in my place and making me forever chase her but someone I put through hell and survived.

Scanning the room I locked eyes with Finn who had tears in his eyes like she was something he almost lost instead of me. Rushing him, I grabbed his shirt and balled my fists up in the material, yanking him towards me. “What the fuck did you do?”

He shouted in my face, “Nothing! I knew she was medicating but I didn’t know it was this bad. We were just making out and she started hyperventilating.”

My firsts balled up tighter at his words. Making out.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“She doesn’t want me to leave. I’m staying until she tells me to leave.” I glared at him, watching him untangle himself and go kneel next to her.

Pacing my living room, I periodically looked at her trying to compose herself with the EMT. “She just lost a baby. The doctor prescribed those.”

The EMT excused herself, standing up, “Who should I speak with? If we could privately.”

“Finn, sit the fuck down. You don’t know her like I do. Let’s go to the back, straight ahead.” I followed her lead to the further room, a library or a study that she left empty still. “How bad is it?”

“She didn’t overdose but is she is abusing the pain medication. I don’t think she needs an intervention, this was embarrassing enough probably but she does need to be monitored. No more pills and drinking, that’s a lethal combo.”

“Thanks doc,” was all I offered when I let her exit before I threw the painters ladder down to the floor with a crash. I was angry, I wanted to break Finn, I wanted to lock her up so no one else could have her.

The EMT team left and the house was quiet when I waited for them to explain what happened. “Not one person wants to tell me what happened?”

Finn spoke, “I already told you. We were drinking, she was taking pills too, we started to make out and she started to panic.”

I took my phone out, picking the right camera and rewinding back an hour see her straddling Finn on our couch. His hands were all over her body, squeezing her tits and his teeth teasing her nipples through that robe.

Her hips started to ride him when she let the robe fall off her shoulders. I could finally see her ass in that thong she must have slipped on after I left.

My name was visible even to the camera. The only one who didn’t see it was Finn.

Walking away to the kitchen to grab a beer, softening this blow however I could, I kept watching.

“I wanna be with you. I wanna leave her.” I heard Finn’s voice come through the video.

Winner winner, chicken dinner. When her mistakes become too real is when she panics. Every. Single. Time. Finn wouldn’t know that because he didn’t grew up watching it happen.

I wasn’t here to save her the way she always banked on. This time she had to deal with her own mistakes.

Their mouths kept colliding, I could see their tongues wrestling when she whispered back. “Slow down. We just broke a few months ago. I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

She rejected him.

My eyes were glued to the screen when I watched his hands pin her wrists together behind her back. “I cancelled my flight to be with you instead. We talk more than I do to my wife. I want you all the time. All those FaceTime calls late at night, I know you’re touching yourself. I was too baby.”

All she said was, “I’m sorry. I’m not ready.”

That was all it took for him to snap, he pushed her down on the couch and yanked her panties down her legs. “Dom has fucked you over so many times and yet you’re loyal to him. Forcing me to watch you fuck him, being half naked around me, getting drunk and horny. You don’t have to want a relationship, baby, but I deserve this pussy.”

My chest raged and heart dropped to my stomach again. He was prepared to take what he wanted if her body hadn’t failed from all the pills and booze.

“Finn. Get the fuck out of my house before I kill you.” I shouted, something I didn’t often do. Rounding the large kitchen island I grabbed his shirt, holding him still and tossed my phone in her scared lap. “You were going to rape her? In my house? I broke Randy’s leg for less.”

“Least he got to fuck the tease.”

“What the fuck did you say to me?” I nearly tackled him to the floor and my fist drove into the center of his face with ease. He got one off but I was tapped into adrenaline instead of pain. Another few punches in I looked up at her and simply said, “Get him an Uber before I forget how to control myself.”

She looked back at me, her wild eyes still full of fear, when she realized I had cameras all over the house. Even if I was absent, I really wasn’t.

Holding the phone up she asked me, “What is this? Cameras? What the fuck, Dom?”

Kneeling into my one knee I kept him on the floor below me trying to juggle my anger and keeping my voice calm for her. “Security. I’m not home a lot.”

Standing up she tossed my phone on the couch. “So you spy on me? We aren’t even together anymore. I can’t believe you. Is that why you’re even here now?”

Standing up, I kicked Finn lightly and told him to get out before I pressed charges. Following her up the stairs I watched her push the bedroom door open, searching for the cameras she couldn’t see. “Are they in here too, Dom? Are you watching me in bed? Watching me walk around naked?”

“It’s not like that. He called me and told me to get here so I did. I had no idea what I was walking into. I had those installed before we even moved in so I could keep you fucking safe when I’m not home. Abusing those pills is over.” I snatched the bottles off the bedside table and snapped the covers off before I let them hit the toilet water.

Rushing over to me she tried to stop me but I towered over her and there was no way she was going to push me an inch on my training schedule. “What the fuck, Dom. I need those!”

Tossing the bottles in the trash I pivoted and held her wrists from slapping me the way I knew she wanted to. “Pack a bag. EMT said you aren’t being left alone and we fly out in two days.”

“I hate you,” her voice shook and she fought for her wrists back. Bracing for the slap of a lifetime she surprisingly didn’t deliver. Pulling her into my chest I held her while she broke, sobbing into my shirt and whispering how much she hated me.

Hated me for seeing all the lows. Hated me for seeing her weak, for not giving up, for loving her anyways.

[xoln04f1xo]

Racing Hearts (Part 2) - OP81

Fluff

Pairings: Oscar Piastri x Reader

Part 1, Part 3,

WC: 856

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

The paddock hadn’t quieted down after the session, if anything, it had become more alive. Mechanics bustled around, packing up equipment, while team personnel swapped notes and debriefed strategies. You were supposed to be doing the same, but Oscar’s antics had left your focus in shambles. Thankfully, your best friend wasn’t one to let you spiral.

“You’re staring into space again,” a voice teased, cutting through your thoughts. You turned to see one of the junior engineers grinning at you. “What’s got you so distracted? Let me guess... a certain driver?”

“No,” you replied quickly, too quickly. The heat rising to your cheeks gave you away, but you forced a nonchalant shrug. “Just tired.”

The engineer didn’t seem convinced, but before they could press further, Oscar appeared, freshly showered and dressed in team gear. His damp hair was tousled, and the casual joggers and hoodie combination made him look more approachable than the teasing menace you’d dealt with earlier.

“Hey,” he said, his voice softer now. “You’re still here?”

You gestured to the camera strapped around your neck. “Still on the clock.”

Oscar’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Come on, let’s take a walk. You’ve earned a break.”

Your instinct was to argue, there was always more to do, but the way he tilted his head, quietly imploring, made it impossible to refuse.

The two of you wandered away from the main paddock, the noise fading into a distant hum. It wasn’t uncommon for drivers and team members to sneak off for a moment of peace, and you appreciated the reprieve as much as he seemed to. The golden glow of the setting sun painted everything in warm hues, softening the sharp edges of the day.

“You’re quiet,” Oscar noted, glancing sideways at you. “That’s not like you.”

You laughed, though it sounded nervous even to your own ears. “Just trying to figure out how to survive another day without embarrassing myself.”

Oscar’s brow furrowed. “Embarrassing yourself? You’re the most put-together person I know here.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “Have you seen me trip over my own feet trying to avoid stepping on cables?”

“That doesn’t count,” he said, grinning now. “It’s part of your charm. Besides, you’re the one keeping this whole social media thing running. No one else could make us look half as good as you do.”

His words were earnest, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You’d grown used to blending into the background, letting your work speak for itself. Hearing him acknowledge it so directly was... nice.

“Thanks,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks warm again. “But you’re still trouble, you know.”

Oscar’s laugh was soft, genuine. “Yeah, well, someone’s got to keep you on your toes.”

The two of you walked a little further, the conversation flowing more easily now. He told you about the race, the good moments, the tricky ones, and the hilarious miscommunication with his engineer that had him laughing even in the heat of competition. You shared bits about your day, the behind-the-scenes chaos and funny fan interactions that made it all worthwhile.

“I saw that kid with the McLaren flag,” Oscar said, his eyes lighting up. “The one in the grandstands? You got a picture of them, right?”

You nodded. “Of course. It’s already in the edit queue. Thought it might make a good post.”

“You’re the best,” he said simply, the sincerity in his voice making your heart flutter in a way you tried to ignore.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in fiery oranges and soft purples, Oscar stopped and leaned against a low barrier, looking out over the now-quiet track. The moment felt serene, almost fragile, as if the world had paused just for the two of you.

“I don’t say it enough,” he began, his tone thoughtful. “But I’m glad you’re here. It’s easy to get caught up in all this, the pressure, the expectations. But having you around... it makes it feel a little less heavy.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by his honesty. “I’m glad I’m here too,” you said softly. “Even if you do make my job unnecessarily difficult sometimes.”

Oscar laughed, the sound bright and unrestrained. “Wouldn’t want you to get bored.”

“As if that’s even possible,” you retorted, grinning.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the quiet settle around you. It wasn’t awkward or heavy; it was the kind of silence that felt like a shared secret, a bond that didn’t need words.

“We should probably head back,” Oscar said eventually, though he didn’t seem eager to move. “People might start thinking we’ve run off to start our own team or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Imagine the chaos.”

“Pure brilliance, you mean,” he said, flashing you a grin that made your chest feel lighter.

As you walked back together, the paddock lights coming on one by one, you couldn’t help but feel grateful. For the job, for the laughter, and most of all, for the friend walking beside you who somehow made even the busiest, most chaotic days brighter.

🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

Masterlist Series Masterlist

[everyonewooeverywhere]

slams these down (gently)

college!bf soobin

this is what your camera roll looks like with him methinks 😙

what do you think he's like as a boyfriend? 🎤

college bf!soobin has me actually in shambles rn

i NEED him. it's not fair 🥲 (that last photo is in the photo shuffle on my lock screen 😌)

soobin is genuinely so boyfriend coded it's not even funny. he would be such a good partner.

90% of the time, dates would be super lowkey. the two of you snuggled on the couch playing games or watching shows. he'd want you to play with his hair. actually, he’d grab your wrists himself and put your hands in his hair.

i also like to think that you'd have little date nights at his apartment that he shares with the other four boys. everyone knows you're coming over. and gyu, tae and kai take that as a cue to be gone or in their rooms for the night so they don't bother you on the couch.

yeonjun however misinterprets soobin telling him that you're coming over. so he sits on the couch with you guys.

neither of you have the heart to tell him that he was not in fact invited to this. so he stays. all night. he even picked out the movie on his own. (let's be honest though it was probably on purpose.

college bf!soobin also LOVES coffee study dates. loves them. he'll go with you to your favorite cafe and sit with you for hours while you work on assignments. he's good at keeping you focused. he won't entertain conversation until your taking a break, and he keeps your phone in his bag so it doesn't distract you.

maybe you have a couple classes together to, so you'll both help each other out wherever your struggling.

being able to study together often without distraction means that you're able to see him a lot even when you get swamped with school work, so he helps relieve that stress.

[angelsdevils]

Debt of the Heart

Taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @maraya-007 @shelly-ya@galactict3a@bontensbabygirl @thisbicc

*If you want to be added to the tag list you can fill out this form, or update it.

Playlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chaper 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 |

The dimly lit basement of the club reeked of oil, blood and fear. Ran leaned againt a table covered with the different tools—a hammer, pliers, and other implements designed for pain-casually rolling his sleeves up as ifhe was preparing for a mundane task. 

Rindou and Sanz stoof a few feet away, leaning on the wall questioning the man who was harrassing you and your friends in their club. But worst then that, Kakucho was able to see that this man was also working with one of their enemies, one that they been trying to eliminate for a while but can’t quite find where he is. 

“You know your boss has been a thorn in our side, I suggest you start talking,” Sanzu said, trailing his knife along the man’s face. 

“I won’t tell you anything,” you will have to kill me.”

“I will give you credit, you have guts. Flirting with my wife, coming into my club trying to scout us out. Too bad you won’t have them for long, if you don’t talk,” Ran said, pushing off the tbale and walkd over, calm and delberate. He crouched to meet the man’s eyes, his tone as smooth as velvet. “See here i the thing, I don’t like wasting my time. My girl is at home, alone and drunk. I should be doting on her, and trying to get her to fall in love with me, but I am here… with you. My patience has a limit, and you are walking on a very thin line.” 

The man’s lips quivered as he stammered, “I-I don’t know anything, I am just someone that works under him. We haven’t even seen his face.” 

“Not enough,” Ran interrupted, hsi voice cutting like blade. “You were harrassing the girls at the bar, and you wear the tattoo mark of Black Requiem. Talk—” 

Rindou stepped forward from the wall. “If you don’t start talking, you’re going ot wish we’d left you with Sanzu instead.” 

“It was—It was Karasu’s crew, he paid Blck Requiem a hefty amoun to capture her, since she would sell for a hihg price — he told me to keep you busy here while they took her.” 

“What? So you attempt wasn’ to get her drunk at the bar without us around? Who is—” He was cut off whn his phone rang. He stepped back and answered.

“Hello?”

“Ran, it’s me Kakucho the situation is bad… I was looking at your cameras outside the house just and she was ambushed. About five men entered the house.”

Ran’s blood ran cold as he hung up with Kakucho, Sanzu looked up.

“What’s wrong.” 

“Rindou, we’re done here. We need to go.”

“They are at the house right now. We need to save her.” 

Rindou and Sanzu narrowed their eyes and Sanzu wanting to help, grabbed his gun instead and shot the guy in the head. 

—

Ran swung the door open rushing into the house, but the place was in shambles. What’s worse, blood… everywhere. Him, Sanzu and Rindou grabbed their guns and walked further in. In the living room, he saw you covered in blood. The night gown that was once white was now stained red. He ran to you.

“(Y/N)!” He turned you around and the look in your eyes, haunted him.

“Ran…” You slowly met his eyes, and he noticed you were covered in blood. A lot of it. From head to toe.

“Are you hurt?” 

“Ran, I don’t think that’s her blood.” Sanzu said, and Ran was conflicted not sure if he believed it but Rindou turned his brother’s head to look at the pileof dead bodies. 

There had to be at least 10 grown as men.

More had abushed you after the first five you killed. 

“Fuck…” 

“Go clean her up, we will handle this,” Rindou said. 

Ran nodded and took her to the bedroom’s bathroom and ran a hot bath with bubbles and oils. You were still completely out of it. 

Ran called all of Bonten because they were gonna need help. 

“Rindou, I never thought I would say this. But your sister in law is terrifying,” Kokonoi said, as he looked around it looked like a slaughter house.

“Yeah, I don’t think any of knew she was capable of something like his, but I am damn proud of her.” 

Ran slowly stripped you out of your stained gown, when you finally came back to reality. 

“Ran… I-I…I ki—”

“Shh, it’s okay, it was good you stood your ground. It was necessary,” he said soothingly. Helped you in the bath, washing the blood off of your skin, gently.

“ But I killed t-ten men… what will happen when the cops find out?” You said, tears in your eyes, letting him clean you up.

“Don’t worry about that, cops aren’t getting involved, if they do, I will take the fall. But they won’t bonten will handle everything, don’t worry. Nothing will happen, you had too or else you would have met a much worse fate.” 

“I would have?” You asked, your voice cracking and he nodded his head. 

“If they had captured you. they planned to sell you… its good you were able to defend yoursef.” 

You slowly nodded, as he drained the water before running the shower, to help get he rest of hte blood off of you. Once you were clean, he ran another bath for you to relax.

“I will go down stairs to help them clean up, you try and relax. I will be back.” 

You nodded and he left the bathroom. He ran his hand through his purple hair as he descendded down the stairs. The cleanup was mostly done, the bodies gone. 

“How is he?” Kakucho asked, worried about you. 

“She is out of it, as expected.”

“Ran, don’t bother coming to work the next few days or weeks however long it takes for her to accept it.” Manjiro said, his voicce void and empty. 

“Never leave her side, if you have to have someone from our group to be her body guard…” 

Ran nodded, understanding. They finished cleaning up after a few hours with Ran checking on you. He helped you out of the bath in a pair of sweats and a hoodie. He crawled in bed with you, pulling you into his arms. He kissed the top of your head. You clung to him, occasionally crying. But he was there. 

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners. The dividers go to their original owners.

[ihatesocialmedia45]

My Debut Onto The Tumblr Homelander Fanfic Scene

I see a lot of other Homelander writers post their fics on here, and I think I will start, too! Here is Chapter One of my fic: (also - you should listen to Guts' Theme from Berserk while you read!)

Sunshine, Happiness and Rainbows

Vought's New Year's Countdown was in full swing; VNN was filming live, and the camera panned outside, to show the cheering crowd huddled outside the Tower. Homelander watched from the window, the flash of cameras lighting up his face, wearing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He would be hosting this event, he thought with an internal sigh. The people outside might have been genuinely celebrating - but to him,  to the rest of the Seven, it was just another soulless bid for attention. They hadn't even officially been asked to host; The Tonight Show had fought them tooth and nail for the time slot - but Stan would not be cowed, and Vought had won, once again.

All this, just to celebrate another pointless year... 

"Over here, Homelander!" a cameraman urged, waving wildly. Homelander flashed him a dazzling smile; the shutters clicked faster.

Deep was entertaining a gaggle of fans outside, taking pictures, while Maeve was nursing an old fashioned inside, leaning on the meeting room table. Noir, hidden the back, was wearing a neon sign that flashed colors and messages across the screen: 20 minutes till next year!  Sage, the sourpuss, had managed to find a way out of the affair entirely, and was probably scraping her brains out and eating fast food... or whatever it was she did during those moments of idiocy she quite literally carved out for herself. Homelander felt his lip curl in disgust. The Seven was in shambles, and Stan had saw fit to drag them on TV and make them dance, anyway. 

Starlight and Firecracker seemed to be making the best of it, at least, talking to the camera about their resolutions. "Well... I hope to beat my record for saves this year! 350," Starlight said, puffing her chest out slightly. Firecracker gave her a teasing look. "Oh, what a coincidence! I also hope to beat Starlight's record of 350 saves this year," she joked, giving Starlight a playful push. 

As Stan gave his annual speech - his State of the Union, Homelander scoffed, suppressing an eye roll - everyone watched as the camera panned to Noir and his sign: 10 minutes till next year!  Homelander watched the sign flash, Stan's voice like static in his ears. He was already thinking of what he'd do tomorrow; he'd go down to the 30th floor, maybe terrorize Ashley a bit (holidays made him angry), do his itinerary... maybe fly across the globe, sit at Mount Everest... He'd built something of a settlement on the summit, where he could sip his milk and watch the sun rise at the highest elevation in the world. Of course, he could have flown higher, but he'd recently decorated the place with a very deep leather recliner, complete with a heated cushion. Every king needed his throne, after all. Stan fixed him in his steely gaze, snapping him from his reverie. He smiled.

"Now that I've said my piece, I'd like to turn the mic over to Vought's own... Homelander," Stan said smoothly, making way for him. Homelander stepped to the mic, that same static from before in his ears, choking out the festivities and leaving him in a silent film of a scene.

Just move your mouth, John. Tell them what they want to hear.

He felt the words come out, heard the crowd's answering laughter at his jokes, their cheers... but nothing registered in his own ears. He watched the crowd give their silent shouts, mouths set in open grins - and he answered with yet another one of his own, clenched fist throbbing under the podium. His face was starting to ache.

Standing there, at the podium, ushering in a new year he couldn't care less about, but being too influential to miss the show, Homelander straightened his spine, even as he felt his face twitch when he saw a couple outside, wrapping each other into a passionate embrace. He kept his eyes on them, raking over the way they moved - a tender brush of hair, a kiss on the forehead. His eyes felt hot - the urge to laser. He stuffed it down, willed himself to smile.

Finally, though, someone announced that the time had come; there were only 10 seconds until the ball dropped. The city held its breath as Homelander raised his hands, counting down, the words falling on deaf ears, sweeping his gaze around once again.

Five!

Maeve, looking depressed as she stood apart from the show.

Four!

Sage, in her dark little den, lobotomy wand in hand, as the masses celebrated outside.

Three!

Deep hugging a fan, bristling as their hands brushed his gills.

Two!

Noir, forever mute and unable to join in on the countdown.

One!

And Homelander, overseer of the entire sordid affair, fists tied in a white knuckled knot under the podium.

"Happy New Year!" everybody cheered, and the crowd outside went wild. The air, once so charged with anticipation, seemed to let out a breath, the smattering of glitter and confetti shimmering in the night sky as New York celebrated. The Seven looked on, their rehearsed smiles growing wan.

Oh, God... Homelander groused, looking around; everyone had begun to embrace, swaying gently as they kissed, hundreds of thousands of hands that held their partners close, the breaths of a million contended sighs reaching his ears and turning his stomach.

He'd seen enough; his duty fulfilled, he stepped stiffly from the podium, shouldering his way past the throngs of people, his step determined. Maybe he'd be able to make it to Everest in an hour if he left now. Less, if he sped. 

In his haste to leave, he heard snatches of conversations ("Is that Homelander?!") that he waved off, his façade waning alongside his patience. He couldn't take a picture. Not today.

He'd finally broken free of the crowd, and was preparing to fly off - when a new voice sounded, a few dozen feet behind him, the melody low and soft in his ears. He stopped himself, lowering his arms. 

"Did you see him, though? He looked so..." they let their words trail off. The friend snorted, and Homelander felt a surge of irritation flash through him.

"What - sexy?" Homelander rolled his eyes but pressed on now, looking for the duo, only to find a hoard of faces obscuring his view.

"No," the reader said, a hint of disgust at her friend's callousness in her voice. "Lonely."

Lonely. 

The word bounced around in his skull, and for a moment, Homelander was incandescent with rage. Who did this... girl... think she was, to act as if she knew him? To lay his inner turmoil out so plainly, as if it was something she could understand. But as the word sunk into his mind - lonely, lonely, lonely... he felt his anger fade, in the wake of its truth.

Lonely. 

He imagined the New Year's celebration he'd planned for himself, sipping steamed milk on Mount Everest, with the heated cushion serving as the only other source of warmth for miles. But the speaker's pity grated on him; he grit his teeth at the feeling.

Was it pity, though? No... that wasn't quite the word. They'd sounded... concerned when they said it. Concerned, for him.  He found himself leaning in, waiting to hear more.

"Yeah, but he's Homelander. He probably has an afterparty to get to," someone else responded. "I doubt he has nobody to kiss on New Years."

"I'd kiss him..." the first voice mumbled furtively. Homelander raised a brow, craning his neck to find the person behind the statement. Their friend scoffed.

"Yeah, I bet! 'Oh, Mr. Homelander, you're dreamier than the posters give you credit for!" 

"Shut up!" 

So, this person was a fan? He stepped closer, his dark mood lightening somewhat. And the way they'd spoken about him... it wasn't in the same dismissive tone their friend had. Gods got lonely, too - a sentiment this fan's insipid friend couldn't seem to grasp. But they did.

Lulled by their dulcet voice, Homelander's legs carried him to her, lingering occasionally so as to make their eventual meeting seem organic. He ghosted behind them, hidden by the trees, the glint of his eyes the only proof of his presence, watching as the girl - wearing a Homelander shirt, he noticed with a wry little smile - walked her friend to her car, then set off, to walk home themselves.

Walk?  Homelander quirked a brow, cocking his head. That wouldn't do at all. Silently cutting through the air, he brought himself a few yards out, where the girl would eventually cross his path, and put on a contemplative face. Barely hiding his smile at his ingenuity, he waited for them, hand tucked into a fist under his chin - the Thinker, waiting for her to bring him to life.

Eventually, she reached him, headphones in her ears, jumping nearly a foot in the air when she realized who she'd discovered. Eyes like saucers, they stuttered out their greetings, hands shaking when they raised them to remove the buds.

"Homelander?!" she started. He smiled, genuinely for the first time that night; beneath the sounds of the city, and the celebration at Vought, he could hear the hummingbird patter of her heart as she took him in. 

"The one and only," he greeted them, rising to his feet. He pointed to their shirt, a teasing smile tucked away at the corner of his mouth.

"Don't tell me you've been following me," he joked, smile widening when their jaw dropped, hastily making to turn the shirt backwards.

"This isn't - no! Well..." shirt turned backward, they brought their shy gaze to his, cheeks turning rosy from the cold - and a hint of embarrassment.

Homelander extended a hand to them, eyes kind despite himself. It wasn't his way, to offer favors to fans - mudpeople, his mind spat before he banished the thought... but in this case, maybe he could make an exception. New Year, new Homelander.

He'd looked so... lonely, her words echoed in his mind. He felt his smile falter, but quickly brought it back to life.

"Let me take you home. It's too cold to walk," he said, the thin veneer of bravado melting slightly when she took his hand.

Warmth. Pure, unadulterated warmth. The shock of it, radiating from their hand, had him stuffing down a gasp, the softness of their palm seeping through his glove. She wrapped an arm around his waist, the warmth bleeding into him there, too, and when she looked up at him, he saw the full moon, reflected in her wide eyes.

I'd kiss him. I'd kiss him...

Then kiss me.

The thought shocked him, but try as he might, he couldn't will it away. It floated to the forefront of his brain, soft and insistent all at once.

Do it. Kiss me. Please.

The fan - the woman - murmured her address into the crook of his neck, her breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, and he held her to his chest as he breezed through the night sky, the gentle breeze wafting her hair. Homelander caught a whiff of her conditioner - vanilla, bergamot - and inhaled as quietly as he could. They seemed content to let him carry them, head relaxed on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The thought that that wasn't all they could hear gnawed at him, but he shook it off and kept his eyes forward, focused on how right their weight felt against him.

Finally, he reached their apartment, setting them on their feet, and giving them a strained little smile. They stood at the doorway, lingering, and for a brief, wild moment, he imagined them, inviting him in, sharing hot cocoa, hands entwined as they watched television. Through the window he could see she used warm lightbulbs for her lamps, nothing like Vought's clinically bright ones. The image burned him with its sweetness, and he felt the strange urge, again, to lash out. How dare she make him envision a vignette that could never possibly happen? Even as he fought from leaning into her, his rage flared. He hated her. He hated the emptiness she'd left in his arms, when she'd stepped out of them.

"Well... I'm sure you're very busy," they said, opening their door.

I'm not, Homelander thought, burning to follow her in. She turned to face him, a glimmer in her eye; Homelander held his breath and hoped against all reason.

"Thank you, for taking me home. You were right - it was chilly tonight!" They shared a small laugh, the ache in his chest throbbing.

"Goodnight, Homelander. Happy New Year," she murmured, closing the door behind her. He made to leave, only to retake his position outside the door for a moment, his breath floating above him in frigid puffs as he stared. The reader's farewell, saccharine as it was, left him with a sense of uneasiness he couldn't shake. He nearly pressed a hand to the door, but held firm. It wasn't right. It wasn't right.

John,  his heart wept, something inside him quaking as though to come apart. Call me John.

[ceesimz]

https://www.tumblr.com/ceesimz/771213600847167488/what-are-your-special-interests?source=share

omg film photography!!! may we see some of your photos if you have any???

sure! here are a couple from when i went to york early december, it was a cloudy grey day so some of the photos didn't come out too great because obviously it's a film camera and i used a low ISO film roll that day, plus the shambles are pretty dark but i think these three didn't come out so bad

i have more but i mostly just get them developed in physical copies and the rest of the roll from york is of my family+friends i went to the markets with so! limited on what to show but yeah anyway those are some, thank you for asking but sorry in advance if this post gets deleted lol im nervous as hell :)

[sturnioloshacker]

i just found this i’m in shambles…

YOU JUST FOUND THAT?! babes this exact pic has been sitting in my camera roll since the day i discovered the triplets