#youre not beating the allegations anymore

[hyohaehyuk]

Jacob – Couples Therapy podcast (Hosts: Naomi Ekperigin and Andy Beckerman)

Bring a friend to a date?

Did he mean it like a throuple/threesome or did he meant "date a friend instead of starting again with your ex"?! 🤨 The hosts kinda sucked on this one. They didn't even let him explain himself 😒 I can't believe it didn't cross any of their minds to ask if he meant it like in a open relationship/polyamorous relationship way or another thing 🤦‍♀️

Anyway, I don’t even think jacob himself realised yet what he have going on with his bestie Sam.

And then right after, naomi says “i think we kinda know, so it’s fine” just unprovoked and him not saying anything… lol everybody got u and ur little workplace friend business

source: lovesjar

Also around 1:26:04 (i think is even for the same question/advice from the video above):

[daeluin]

guys i was half joking but

peterick en español (versión trap)

[royalreef]

She does not realize it, but it has been revealed that her single preferred type, above all else, is commitment to The Bit.

[ugh-yoongi]

~~

man there is simply no way fuckass joe biden took a softball debate question about abortion — arguably the dems’ biggest trap card considering how deeply unpopular the statewide bans are — and turned it into an incoherent rambling, racist dog whistle mess about “illegals” r*ping women are u fucking kidding me

we are so far beyond cooked i can only assume every democrat has a humiliation kink bc this would be a slam dunk election if they’d run almost anyone else

not to mention not once did he bring up project 2025 and i’m supposed to be scared for my life and the future of democracy if it gets enacted??? BRO

[dcvina-claires]

the year is 2006. you’re an avid fan of collegiate exy. kevin day recently transferred from the best team in the league to the worst after breaking his hand in a skiing accident. before the season starts, janie smalls attempts suicide. she’s a fox, so absolutely no one is surprised by this. however, this means that david wymack has to find a new striker. he picks up a neglected, unremarkable kid from millport. for some reason, this mysterious nobody thinks it’s okay to publicly humiliate riko moriyama, king of exy. apparently, neil josten and kevin day talk shit about riko all the time (this confuses you. kevin and riko are supposed to be best friends). not long after, seth gordon dies of an overdose. once again, it’s the foxes, so no one should be surprised, but something is… off. seth was clean, and it didn’t seem likely for him to throw it away. the foxes don’t get anyone to replace him. despite being short a player, they’re performing better than ever before. you don’t want to admit it, but neil josten can probably be credited with a lot of the foxes success. and something is off about that kid, too. he’s a 5’3 brunette with brown eyes, and then suddenly he’s not. he comes back from winter break with red hair and blue eyes, but more interesting than that is the number four tattooed onto his face, marked for the ravens, marked for the perfect court. the normal minyard twin murders someone in cold blood. neil josten is actually nathaniel wesninski. his father, the butcher of baltimore, tortures him and burns his tattoo off. the trojans throw away their shot at winning. kevin covers up his tattoo with a queen chess piece. he’s never been skiing, the theories behind what happened to his hand are endless. jean moreau transfers to the trojans. this isn’t helping with the abuse allegations. despite everything stacked against them, the foxes beat the ravens. the unhinged minyard twin shatters riko’s hand to stop him from murdering the mafia kid on live tv. for some reason, this is riko’s final straw and he kills himself. some people are blaming kevin, andrew, and neil, but you personally believe that it’s a tad bit dramatic to commit suicide after losing one game and breaking a hand. the rest of the ravens don’t seem to agree, as they’re all suddenly in the most fucked up game of “follow the leader” known to man. jean moreau is spotted being escorted from the foxes dorm room a bloody mess, but that’s only the beginning. one of the ravens stabs himself with a letter opener, another steps onto the subway tracks, and a third overdoses. it’s 2007, and you started saying that the ravens were in a cult as a joke, but you don’t know if it’s a joke anymore. you’re seriously starting to consider that your favorite sport was created solely as a front for the mafia

[hiddenreamers]

Worlds Collide - Lando Norris x neuropsychologist!Reader

SUMMARY: You're a fresh neuropsychologist who is internet-famous for making entertaining and educational videos about anything psychology-related. Lando and you meet for the first time when the two of you are invited to do an episode on a podcast where people from very different professions sit down together and talk about their lives. Considering the instant chemistry, the fans aren't exactly surprised when the dating rumours emerge...

worldscollide_pod tagged landonorris and yn_thebrainiac in a post:

What do a neuropsychologist and a Formula 1 driver have in common? 🧠🏎️ We don't know either! So we invited landonorris and yn_thebrainiac to tell us about their lives.

Listen to Worlds Collide wherever you get your podcasts or watch the episode on our YouTube channel. You can suggest and vote on show guests on our Patron page.

Comments:

user1: i'd say they have brain injury in common??

user2: not the crossover episode we wanted but the one we needed

user3: he's driving fast, she's a failed med student, what's interesting about that?

↳ user4: omg please be a joke 😭 or a ragebait ↳ user5: user3 do you realize how much time and effort it takes to be either a f1 driver or a neuropsychologist? ↳ user5: high school dropout ass comment

landonorris: can't wait!

↳ yn_thebrainiac: looking forward to meeting you ❤️ liked by landonorris

user6: he called a rectangle a circle and she uses Latin names for brain parts like it's common knowledge. Truly a collision of worlds lmao

user7: these two in one room?? feels like a fever dream

↳ user8: more like a new Barbie movie

worldscollide_pod tagged landonorris and yn_thebrainiac in a post:

This week on Worlds Collide we have learned that a pit stop is kinda like a therapy appointment, helmets are humanity's best invention and waffles are to your brain what fuel is to a car.

Huge thanks to landonorris and yn_thebrainiac for giving us insight into their exceptional careers as well as two hours of good laughs!

Listen to Worlds Collide wherever you get your podcasts or watch the episode on our YouTube channel. You can suggest and vote on show guests on our Patron page.

Comments:

user9: yn_thebrainiac is the only person to get excited over brain injuries

↳ user10: and landonorris is the only person to make heart eyes while someone is talking about brain injuries

user11: when yn_thebrainiac was explaining her job and said to Lando he should hope he never has to be examined by her he looked so defeated 😭😭 truly a wet cat

↳ user12: and the "I guess I won't wear a helmet anymore"?? bro is down bad from the start

yn_thebrainiac: thank you for the opportunity! landonorris it was great meeting you ❤️ hope to see you again soon liked by landonorris and worldscollide_pod

↳ landonorris: just let me know when and where 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

user13: landonorris is that guy who suddenly becomes a comedian whenever a pretty girl is around

↳ user14: but it DID work on yn_thebrainiac 😭😭😭

user15: not yn_thebrainiac answering questions like it's a presidential debate and Lando going idk man I just drive

user16: Lando asking the hosts to repeat the question because he was too focused on yn_thebrainiac? man's not beating the simp allegations anytime soon

user17: that whole episode felt more like a date than a talk show liked by worldscollide_pod

↳ worldscollide_pod: were we more wingmen or a third wheel?

user18: the way both of them were invested in each other's stories made me realize how utterly single I am

↳ user19: when yn_thebrainiac said it's a force of habit to ask how something made him feel and then Lando casually asking her the same thing??? delete Tinder, no dating app will get you a man like this

user20: can I just say how surprised I am with Lando's thoughtfulness? Like when yn_thebrainiac said she's scared to drive after examining an accident victim and he immediately offered to be her driver?

↳ user21: considering the tales of Lando's driving, it will only traumatise her further lol

user22: Lando telling her to continue because he wants to hear the rest of the story when she apologized for getting sidetracked??? 🥺🥺 mom, I want this one!!!!!

user23: they just met and they have more chemistry than some couples who have been married for decades

↳ user24: if Lando was staring at me the way he's staring at yn_thebrainiac I'd be radioactive 📛☢️ ↳ user25: no but really girlies if he doesn't look at you the way Lando's looking at her, he's not the one 🏃‍♀️‍➡️❌

user26: now I kinda want yn_thebrainiac to take up Lando on his offer to test his cognitive skills

↳ user27: if they're in the same room he's going to fail every attention task

user28: Lando's dolphin ass giggle would make you think yn_thebrainiac is the funniest person on Earth

↳ user29: he's just a girl 🎀🎀

user30: I became a fan the moment yn_thebrainiac said "imagine your head is a hairy watermelon with a ball of jello inside"

↳ user31: as a med student I can tell you that it's pretty accurate

gossipgirl_f1 just posted a picture:

🚨🚨🚨McLaren's most eligible bachelor landonorris not eligible anymore? 🚨🚨🚨The driver has been spotted in Japan getting comfortable with an unnamed girl.

user32: didn't yn_thebrainiac post she's there too?

↳ user33: oh god please let it be real ↳ user34: it's definitely her

user35: people out there living my dreams 🥲

user36: why do yall even care?? he's a grown ass man, grow tf up

↳ user37: and yet here you are commenting 😴😴 like what are YOU doing at the devils sacrament?

user38: where's the FBI when you need them we have to knowww

↳ user39: that's yn_thebrainiac she had the exact same outfit in the story she posted earlier

user40: come look girl user41 someones stealing your man

↳ user41: aw hell naw she better know how to fight ↳ user42: wow the delulu is strong with this one

user43: look what yall did worldscollide_pod liked by worldscollide_pod

↳ user43: i guess that's a confirmation huh

landonorris tagged yn_thebrainiac in a post:

Japan treated us nice but she treats me nicer 🌸🇯🇵

Comments:

user44: so they met and fell in love because they were randomly invited to do a random episode of a random podcast? and people still say God ain't real smdh

↳ user45: they better not forget to invite worldscollide_pod to their wedding

user46: guess he'll fuck anyone, when's my turn?

↳ user47: probably never, considering you're no one rather than anyone💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

oscarpiastri: yes, they are as annoyingly in love as they look

↳ landonorris: woww and here I thought we were best friends ↳ landonorris: so rude ↳ oscarpiastri: I have group chat screenshots ↳ landonorris: you're my bestest friend Oscar and you're too nice to ever do this to me 🥰 ↳ maxverstappen1: we all have screenshots ↳ georgerussell63: you're cooked mate ↳ landonorris: 🥲🥲

user48: I would sacrifice my firstborn for this 😭😭

user49: I'm not sure who I am more jealous of

↳ user50: both

user51: they look so good together wtf

user52: worldscollide_pod you guys need to fix your post, what neuropsychologist and a f1 driver have in common is a marriage certificate

user53: ok real question how did he pull her??

↳ user54: he's a millionaire he doesn't have to do anything lol women's ideal type is a loaded wallet ↳ user55: bold of you to assume someone like her needs a walking piggy bank

yn_thebrainiac tagged landonorris in a post:

Hey, did you know that it was a Japanese scholar, Hiroshi Kojima, who popularized phenomenological ontology? He proposed that the dichotomy of individuality vs consciousness could be solved by treating the body as a half-way point between those two concepts. In essence, Kojima suggested considering the body as being seen both from the inside and the outside, now focusing on the intersubjective encounters as part of what constitutes the human being in the context of ontology.

Ps. He promised to wear his helmet! 🌼💖

Comments:

user56: she's everything, he's just Ken😌💅liked by landonorris

↳ georgerussell63: facts

user57: I bet the pillow talk is baffling

↳ landonorris: nah she's too tired for that ↳ user58: 💀💀 bro you didn't have to do her like that

user59: if he breaks your heart I promise to shake his head real hard, repeatedly 🥰🥰

user60: 😬😬 do they not make them pretty anymore?

↳ user61: fr she doesn't deserve him 😐 sad ↳ user62: this relationship feels like a social experiment like what do you mean he chose HER???? Lando Norris settling for a 2/10 is not the news I wanted to read today ↳ user63: wow no wonder yall dads left 😭 she's a normal looking woman, did porn rot your peanut brains completely? go outside and interact with regular, non-photoshopped people and then come back

user64: they have nothing in common and yet they fit perfectly how?? i feel like I'm having a strokee

user65: diagnostic process videos bout to get lit now that there's a volunteer to draw clocks and memorize strings of random words

user66: why do they look like a disney movie couple

↳ maxverstappen1: he may or may not have called her princess on more than one occasion ↳ landonorris: you guys promised 🥲 ↳ oscarpiastri: no, we promised not to post the screenshots ↳ yn_thebrainiac: you mean the screenshots georgerussell63 just sent me? ↳ landonorris: good talk everyone I'll just go die of embarrassment if you don't mind ↳ yn_thebrainiac: I thought the things you said about me were kind of cute ↳ landonorris: nvm I'm back to life

[amazinglyashy]

Everybody at the bar getting tipsy!

LaDS men dragging you home after an over-indulgent evening out

Rafayel -

It was mostly his own fault.

He left you alone at one of his exhibits, when there was a dessert buffet and an open bar.

In his defense, he was so sure you would be too focused on the dessert buffet to even notice there was alcohol available, much less spend enough time over there to overdo it. But just his luck, turns out one of your old college friends was attending the gala, and you'd gotten swept up in the chatter.

He will leave his own party early just to get you home safely, but he is struggling. He had to pick you up to get you down the front steps of the gallery in order to get to the valet and his car, but you're squirming so badly, he's afraid he's going to drop you at this rate.

He manages to get you seated and buckled, but he is somewhat regretting not locating a bag or something for you before making it this far. He can't exactly leave you, so he just hopes your drinks and sweets won't make a reappearance on his car upholstery.

(He won't be mad or mean to you if it does, though. He knows you can't control it in this state.)

He has to try and guide you once the two of you make it home, so that he can prevent you from stumbling, get you water, and keep his hands hovering near you as you attempt to dance to nothing- all at the same time.

He'll make comments under his breath about your current state, just to keep his sanity. He's actually pretty worried about you, even though you're safe alone with him and this has happened before. It could happen another hundred times, and his reaction would still be the same.

Lord, he hopes you don't have a hangover tomorrow.

Sylus -

You had made the mistake of trying to drink the same thing Sylus was while helping him on a job.

It does not matter how much of a heavyweight you are when it comes to drinking. Regardless, Sylus can handle more. And that is where you screwed up.

The hit hurt going down, but it took a moment to start taking effect. In that time, you had grabbed a glass of wine to carry with you in addition, sipping on it as you spoke to other people around you, trying to gather intel as best as you could.

While it didn't have much alcohol content, it was still enough to help push you closer to the edge, and Sylus notices immediately.

He's making an excuse and ushering you out the door faster than you can say goodbye to whoever you had been conversing with, the fear of you spilling any important information or getting wrapped up with the wrong person noticing your state of inebriation stronger than his need to finish the mission right now.

His evol makes it easy to keep you upright on his bike as he drives you home, and luckily his main residence is close by, so he doesn't risk you blowing chunks on his back while behind him.

He will make sure you're drinking water and eating something small, but it becomes a bit difficult with you in your pajamas, clinging to him and nuzzling him, thanking him for taking you home and out of those ridiculously stuffy clothes.

When you're sober, he will show you a video of you snuggling against his arm, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he watches your eyes widen.

"Not beating the 'couple' allegations anymore, kitten."

Xavier -

There is one problem.

That problem is Xavier is also drunk.

The two of you had gone to the bar together with some coworkers after a long day, and had been foolish enough to stay out long after the rest of the group had decided to go home.

It had made for great conversation, but that same conversation had distracted the two of you from just how much you were both drinking. Now, you were balancing against each other as you tried to walk home.

It had to be quite the sight- two people stumbling home under the street lights, still in Hunter uniforms, but one was barefoot and holding a pair of slight heels, while the other was wearing shoes too big for their feet.

You couldn't help it! Your feet had hurt so bad in your work shoes, apparently now that you were extra sensitive from drinking. And Xavier was always such a gentleman, you couldn't stop yourself from mentioning it to him-

The walk is uneventful, no one would dare try and mess with two seasoned Hunters, even if they weren't currently in their right minds.

Once you're both home, the two of you are slurring through an argument as you try to get the other to drink water, bickering about who's the 'sober' one.

The answer is neither.

You both end up asleep on the couch together, and bonking your heads together upon waking up is not going to do wonders for either of your hangovers.

Thank goodness it's the weekend...

Zayne -

He didn't even mean to find you, walking by the bar you were in on his way back from picking up some pastries he had been craving, before the bakery closed for the evening. The only available parking had been just past the bar, and he had walked by the first time, hearing your cheerful, drunken shouts, not recognizing it the first time.

He recognized your voice on his way back though.

"Who's that idiot singing?"

"Oh, it's my idiot-"

He is slightly perturbed to be standing surrounded by drunken Hunters who had gone out together for some fun that night, singing around him and his little blue box of pastries.

He lets you all finish your song, before calmly taking your arm and dragging you out of the building, thanking the group for taking good care of you as you shout protests of being kidnapped by a mad doctor.

He has to wrestle the seatbelt on you after he gets you to sit in his passenger seat, and you will not be hearing the end of this once you're sober. He's had plenty of practice with unruly patients at the hospital, but this was just too much.

It was really hard trying to get you safely into his car when he was trying extremely hard not to laugh at your babbling and slurring protests at him, broken up by occasional song chorus.

What song? He had no idea.

But he was taking you to his place if this was the state you were going to be in. He didn't want to risk you getting hurt unsupervised.

That, and he wanted to hear more of your wonderful drunken singing voice.

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙rosé flowing l LN4˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lando norris x nepo baby!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au

warnings: a lot of fluff as always with me!! tiniest innuendo at the end lol but literally not srs !

summary: in which the grid's nepo baby bff tries to keep her new relationship on the low but is sabotaged by her friends

a/n: idk if this is good i kind of dnt like it?? let me know hahahhhh😭😭 i feel like it's too diff to my other nepo baby one

request!!!: If you're up for it then maybe a lando version of the nepo baby fic instead of lance (*HERE*)

fc: shira.klein

my masterlist

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by yourbff, lilymhe, and 512,097 others

yourusername night life 🪩..

view all 7,382 comments

yourbff hot hot hot

yourusername no u😘

user1 is that lando norris??

user2 yessssss the f1 drivers luv y/n

user3 who is she ??

user4 random rich nepo girl lol

user5 so pretty

maxverstappen1 im in your area

yourusername no way. let's go to dinner!!!!

maxverstappen1 👍

user6 rizz

landonorris 😘

user7 no response...

user8 he's not beating the norizz allegations anytime soon i fear ...

landonorris posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo, and 282,023 others

user9 ??? who is she

user10 DATE night? first im hearing of this

user11 lando i cant cope with a soft launch rn

oscarpiastri 👀

landonorris 🤫

user12 lando u have RIZZ???? surely not

yourbff 💋💋

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1, and 771,684 others

yourusername 🍷

view all 11,029 comments

yourbff awww look at lil merlot 🐱

yourusername mr merlot said he wants a visit soon

yourbff of course anything for the baby

user18 the cat being named after a wine 😭

user19 MAX!?

user20 max verstappen superb rizz

user21 they're not dating guys kelly is in the likes

user22 booo

maxverstappen1 it was so good to see you!

yourusername 💘 always a pleasureee

kellypiquet pretty girl💋💋

yourusername love you sweet

pierregasly you're making the rounds y/n?

yourusername gotta make a point of seeing all my fav boys of courseee🏎️

yourusername posted a story

liked by pierregasly, yourbff, and 221,732 others

yourbff im gonna get so drunk

landonorris 😘

user23 drunk y/n incominggg

maxverstappen1 dont do anything i wouldn't do

user24 WYDDD Y/N

yourbff

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 399,183 others

yourbff my best friend and her man are hot

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

view all 4,820 comments

user25 BEST FRIEND AND HER MAN???

user26 Y/N AND LANDO???

user27 is this y/n & lando dating confirmation

user28 omg it's happening guys

user29 how did lando norizz pull y/n y/l/n???!!!!

landonorris someone's in troubleeee

yourbff who? it aint me surely

landonorris 🤨

yourusername 😭 ur lucky tht i love u

yourbff aww i know im soo lucky i love you sooo much you're the prettiest girl in the world!

yourusername 🤡🤡

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc, and 301,832 others

user34 omg hi pierre

user35 OMGG y/n & pierre reunion

user36 fav friendshippp

charles_leclerc hanging out without me i see okay okay

yourusername YOU SAID YOU WERE BUSY

charles_leclerc yea but 🥺

user37 charles is crying rn

pierregasly

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, and 829,174 others

pierregasly life the past few weeks

view all 12,924 comments

user38 omg is that y/n and her cat

user39 Y/N AND MERLOT

user40 are they dating ??

yourusername sending hugs from me & mr merlot 🐱

pierregasly i only want the ones from merlot

yourusername wow ok. i see

user41 wherever y/n is a full glass of wine follows

liked by yourusername

user42 waittt i kind of ship them

user43 imagine if they were dating 🥺

user44 some of these comments are so ick can a male & female not be friends anymore 💀

landonorris get u a man who looks at u like pierre looks at that ice cream

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, danielricciardo, charles_leclerc

yourbff posted a story

liked by landonorris, yourusername, and 96,914 others

yourusername STOP

user45 is that y/n

user46 is that y/n

user47 i swear that's y/n

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 712,384 others

yourusername been a minute 🍓

view all 8,183 comments

user48 HII Y/N

user49 LANDO AND CHARLESSS?!!!!

user50 she prob didnt make a grid post for a bit coz u guys harass her on who she's dating now 💀

charles_leclerc omg it's me

yourusername yup hi charlie 👋

landonorris wow i look sexy ngl

yourusername 🤨

user51 i wish i was y/n

user52 ikr she's so perfect

lilymhe hello my favourite nepo baby

yourusername I MISS YOU!!

lilymhe i miss you moree

landonorris posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, yourusername, and 593,173 others

danielricciardo medium launch ?

landonorris 😝

user53 lando is it y/n or not plz tell us

user54 major y/n vibes

yourbff she's majestic how the hell did you manage this

landonorris i honestly got no idea im just here for the ride or whatever i guess

yourbff respect it. at least you're aware she's out of your league

landonorris oh absolutely i am

lilymhe i want her

landonorris back off

danielricciardo

liked by yourbff, charles_leclerc, and 873,013 others

danielricciardo beach day!! 🏖️

view all 14,238 comments

user55 omg

user56 that's literally lando & y/n

yourbff you've rly done it this time

danielricciardo dont know what you're talking about 😇

yourusername you're done

landonorris 😭

danielricciardo i wont be taking questions at this time

yourbff convenient

user57 oh they are definitely dating right ??

charles_leclerc 🤨

liked by yourbff

user58 wait is everyone trying to expose them for dating fr

yourusername posted a story

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 314,873 others

danielricciardo HAHAHA

danielricciardo this is basically a confirmation

yourusername i'll never trust you with a secret again

danielricciardo was worth it

user59 Y/N AND LANDO HAS TO BE REAL AFTER THIS

user60 suspicions confirmed

yourbff let the world know y/n!!

yourusername EASY FOR YOU TO SAY

landonorris 😘

lando.jpg

liked by daniel3.jpg, yourbff, and 365,927 others

lando.jpg 💛

tagged: yourusername

view all 8,173 comments

yourusername you are so obsessed with me

lando.jpg yes 🙌

user61 OMG 😨

user62 they're in love. fr

user63 that first pic omg

daniel3.jpg now do it again on main

lando.jpg all in good time 😃

user64 hardest launch of the century

user65 she's insanely gorgeous

yourbff freaking finally

yourusername 🤫

yourbff me & daniel take credit for this

danielricciardo 👍

landonorris you guys should focus on your own lives

landonorris posted a story

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 293,284 others

danielricciardo 👏👏👏

charles_leclerc 🥳🥳🥳

yourbff 🎉🎉🎉

pierregasly 🍾🍾🍾

maxverstappen1 🎊🎊🎊

user66 it's real

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, and 728,023 others

yourusername i wanna be defined by the things that i love

tagged: landonorris

view all 9,185 comments

user72 omg this is so much to take in

user73 her feet on him 🥹

user74 THIS IS SO CUTE I CANT HANDLE IT

user75 new fav wag for sure

danielricciardo look at my children go

yourusername we're grown up !

danielricciardo no more sneaking around 🫶

pierregasly cracking open a bottle as we speak

yourusername celebrating the only way i know how 🎉

landonorris you know other ways y/n 👀.

pierregasly WTF???

yourusername 🤨

landonorris i love You

yourusername i love you !!!

yourbff 🥹🥹🥹

THE END 🧡

[999moreyears]

dsahboard simulator

mutual 1 : (picture of a band member) i wont him ,#i think i have covid

mutual in law: i think im a system

mutual 2 :(reblogging fanart of a fandom you have do idea even existed)

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 4: i think i need to kill . that would fix me

mutual 5:(picture of minecraft character) I MISS HIMMMM

mutual 6: do ouy think they explored each others bodies (picture of characters from a fandom you know nothing about) #liveblog

mutual 7: IM FINALLY FREE

mutual 8: just a little doodle lol ^_^ (most beautiful artwork that has ever graced my eyes)

mutual 1: (mass rb of every picture of a band member to ever exist on the internet)

mutual 7:I BEAT THE SCARED ALLEGATIONS

mutual 9: i need to get pregnant with his firstborn so i can offer it up to a demon for magic powers :/ (picture of minecraft youtuber)

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 7:IM SO NORMAL RIGHT NOW

mutual 1:(picture of inbox, from anonymous : i think there is something wrong with you) so meanies to me forever :(

mutual 10: i need him biblically

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 3: blocked tag

mutual 8: oh yea :p i forgor 2 post this also (drawing of a character praying , the hands are perfect)

mutual 4: I NEED OUT OF THIS DAMN HOUSEEEE!!!!!

mutual 10: do you think when he was pregnant he had really bad morning sickness yes or no

mutual 6: i need to light them on fire I HATE THEM (screenshot of characters mid-frame) #liveblog

mutual 5:( webweave of a character from a fandom youre not in anymore)

[itsbeeble]

NO BITCHES?

SUMMARY: When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

GENRE: smut, fluff, crack, mild angst

PAIRING: Eric Sohn x afab!reader (ft hak, sunwoo, sunwoo's gf, and sangyeon)

WC: 10.5k (there go my plans of proving Ally wrong)

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

18+ MDNI AGLESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

WARNINGS: um... okay so virgin!eric, kinda dom!reader, eric's a fucking loser, reader kinda makes fun of him at first for being a virgin, reader kinda teaches eric about everything from kissing to uh...yeah, dry humping, kissing, making out, oral (m and f receiving), eric cums in his pants, eric plays fnaf, um...public making out? public fingering?, multiple orgasms, eric goes from little virgin boy to I TOLD YOU WE NEEDED MORE GLITTER real fast, sunwoo slander, sunwoo's annoying in this idk, eric's a dumb gamer boy who needs desperate help from the boy who concussed his gf (cough sunwoo), slight bit of miscommunication?, eric cries (ummmm dacryphilia?), reader also cries (again...dacryphilia?), edging el oh el, sunwoo and. reader know the importance of CONSENT, i think that's all the important stuff

A/N: I'm never gonna beat the allegations... ally will always think i bias eric. Anyway, happy birthday to my little munchkin princess eric sohn 🥰🥰

Eric was practically shaking as he approached you. Scratch that, he was definitely shaking but he could blame the ripples covering the drinks in his hand on the pumping base. It thrummed in his veins, or maybe that was his pulse steadily increasing when he locked eyes with you.

You. His gorgeous, intelligent, perfect…

Lab partner. You were his lab partner and at that very moment, nothing more. At least, not in your eyes. Eric, though? He was enamored by you. The way you laugh, the teasing grin when he does something wrong and you scold him, the way your body looks in that dress—

“Hi.” You look away from your friends and face him, a curious look on your face. He’s starting to feel warm. Was it warm in here? He thinks he’s starting to sweat, and can feel something drip down the back of his neck.

“Hi…?” Your hands are empty, and Eric forces himself not to jump up and down with glee that he doesn’t have to make the excuse of having two drinks for himself. 

“I’m— Do you��” He stutters, and heat begins to spread from his neck to his cheeks as your friends giggle. You just smile. A kind smile that has his body slowly relaxing the more he looks at your face. “Do you wanna drink— I mean— fuck, I meant do you want a drink. Not— not do you wanna drink— I mean that could—  that is also a question, but—”

More laughter from your friends and Eric suddenly thinks he’s gonna throw up all over you, your dress, and his nice white button-up shirt that he’d forced Sangyeon to iron for him. 

“Thank you, Eric.” You say, reaching for the cup in his left hand. Your fingers brush against his, and his knees begin to wobble visibly. Your smile disappears into a concerned frown, and suddenly Eric’s attention is on your lips. He isn’t paying attention to his surroundings anymore. Can’t find himself caring that your friends are still laughing at the scenario, nor that you shoo them away. 

“Eric?” Your hand waves in front of his face, effectively catching the boy’s attention. “Are you okay?”  

“Yeah!” Eric says it far too quickly, knowing immediately that you don’t believe him. Fortunately, one of his many charms is that he’s very good at lying to people. “I’m perfectly fine. Why do you ask?” 

You giggle, and it’s the sweetest sound that he’s ever heard.

“You just— you seem a little uncomfortable right now.” You lean close to him, scanning his face under the flashing lights. You can hardly make out his features under the colors. Blue, purple, red, white, green, yellow. All the colors under the rainbow covered his face and changed every few seconds. When they flashed white, you swear you can see a flush in his cheeks. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” He leans toward you with a sudden surge of confidence that has your heart pounded a bit. “Why would I ever be uncomfortable around the most beautiful girl in the building?”

And there it is, folks, you think. Your eye twitches, something so subtle that Eric fails to catch it. The irritation, the disappointment. 

“Ah, I see.” You grimace, and Eric begins to panic again. 

“What— did I upset you?” He asks, and you roll your eyes. 

“Eric, if you wanna get into my pants you’re gonna have to try better than that.” 

Eric’s heart drops to the floor, his face flushing even more as he begins to panic. He stutters, he tries to backtrack, he tries to explain himself. You, however, are hearing none of it. Not a single word that comes out of his mouth reaches your ears. 

“Stop, Eric.” You snap and his mouth snaps shut. “Just…Just stop.” 

You set the cup he’d given you down on the table, and he stares at it dumbly while you storm away to find your friends again. The amber liquid in the cup sloshes with the base echoing around it and the loud noise of partygoers around him. 

He watches it spill over the lip of the cup, and then sets his own cup down next to it, turning around to return to the party but the weight of crushing rejection sits uncomfortably on his chest. 

It’s two days later when you see Eric again. Monday morning, an 8AM Physics lecture that no one wants to be in. Two weeks into the semester, and almost twenty people had already dropped the class. He walks in with a black hat covering his head, and a white tee shirt covering his torso. It’s certainly not clothing suitable for the cold air of early February, but he’d been unable to do his laundry over the weekend due to the parties on Friday and Saturday and the neverending clean-up that occurred on Sunday. 

He spots you, tucked well into the second row, and his eyes light up. Yours, on the other hand, narrow. You keep your gaze on him while he makes his way up to you as quickly as possible, hoping to have a chance to talk to you before the lecture begins. 

“Hey,” he grins at you, gently setting his bag on the chair to his left and turning to face you. Your eyes are still narrowed with suspicion. “How was your weekend?” 

How was your weekend? It’s as if the both of you hated that question; one of you cringing with something close to disgust, the other with something like horror. Is he stupid?

“It was fine,” you tell him curtly. Eric frowns, leaning back in his chair when you turn your gaze to the front. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He blurts out, and your shoulders sag. Was that the wrong thing to ask? Did he do something wrong?

“Did you seriously just ask me that?” You hiss out, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. He opens his mouth to speak, but he has a hard time finding the words. What is he even supposed to say? What if you think he’s an asshole for not knowing what was wrong? What if you never smile at him again?

“I— honestly I really don’t know!” You scoff and Eric sits up, leaning forward on the table to get a better view of your face. You can see the pout, see the way his eyebrows knit together in what you can only assume is faux confusion. There’s no way he doesn’t know what he did.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” You look at him fully now and watch the way his body recoils from the words. Hurt, confusion. No anger. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Eric Sohn angry in the two years you’d shared classes with him. 

“What— what did I even do?” The professor walks in, and he hushes his voice. “I can’t fix things if I don’t know what I did wrong!”

“That’s your own damn fault then, isn’t it?” You click your pen, and Eric shuts up. You almost feel bad, carefully watching as he takes out his own notebook to begin taking notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the lecture, and you feel a pang of regret in your chest. Maybe he really doesn’t know what he did wrong, you think, nibbling on your lip in thought. No, there’s no way he doesn’t know. He’s the smartest guy in the room, no way does he not know what— 

You glance at Eric again, this time turning your head to fully look at him. His blond hair falls over his eyes, even with the hat covering his head. His shoulders are hunched, his hand moving so quickly over the lined paper so that he can at least try to keep up with your professor. For a moment, you think about Eric Sohn. About the frat boy who had been nothing but kind to you since the day you met. About the boy who once gave you notes far more detailed than you’d ever written during the week you were sick. About the boy who—

No, you shake your head and begin to write down more equations you know you’re going to have to ask Eric about later. He’s a frat boy. All he wants is a good fuck and then he’s gone. 

But why did he seem so hurt when you spoke to him so rudely? When you turned him away not once, but twice within the past three days. 

You liked him, you really did! He was kind, thoughtful, and he was always helping anyone he could. He never refused to help anyone, even if it was a subject that he didn’t know that well. Had you gotten it wrong? Was he just trying to talk to you and you had responded—

Your pen clicks again as you give up on the notes, and you lean back in your chair to squint at the whiteboard in front of you. 

Talking with Eric Sohn was inevitable, but it was only a matter of how long you could avoid the topic—

“I want all of you to pair up. These will be your partners for the midterm project.”

Eric’s gaze turns to you uneasily, tilting his head in question. You bite down hard on your tongue, fighting every urge inside of you to turn around and ask the girl behind you to be partners. 

Fuck, how could you say no to those eyes?

Your room is brighter than Eric thought it would be. When you originally invited him over to study that night, he had been terrified. Was your apartment going to be almost falling apart? What if it was really nice and he broke something? What if you killed him and stuffed him into a dumpster?

Fortunately, none of those things were necessarily true. Your building wasn’t falling apart, thankfully, although it was arguably nicer than any other off-campus apartments and you could still choose to kill him. 

It was nice, though. It was a two-bedroom apartment that you shared with your friend Eunseung, one full bathroom and another half-bathroom, a decent kitchen, and a nice-sized living space. According to what you told him in the last semester, the rent wasn’t too awful either. 

The walls of your bedroom were yellow, but not an ugly shade of yellow. It was pastel, not quite bright enough to be harsh on the eyes but not dark enough to make it hard to see. You’d lined bookshelves up to the wall, most filled with books but some with photos and plants and music albums. You had a small desk in the corner, and your bed was aligned with the center of the back wall, a light green comforter covering white sheets. 

“I’m surprised we’ve never studied here.” You hum, but your tone is distant. Eric laughs dryly and sets his bag down on the ground next to your bedframe. 

“You prefer the library,” he points out. “The lighting is easier for your eyes.” 

For a moment, you pause in your motions. How did he—

“How did you know that?” You ask, turning to face him. You can see the flush in your partner’s cheeks, and he ducks his head so that the baseball cap on his head covers his eyes. 

“I just— you would always squint when we studied at the library or— or at the TBZ house. I just…I figured that was the reason.” I pay attention. That’s what you knew he meant. 

Why does a boy who only wants to get into your pants care so much about you?

“Oh.” You dig your laptop out of your bag and take a seat on your bed, leaning against your pillows with your legs straight out in front of you. Eric joins you, sitting crosslegged at the other end of the bed. He’s careful not to get too close, shifting away from you when you adjust your position. Your skirt flares out to the side, ruffled by the blanket and exposing your thighs a bit more. Eric has to force his eyes to remain on his laptop. You notice, but there’s no anger with it. You choose to not even acknowledge it. 

“So what do we wanna do for our project?” His eyes flick over to you, and you shrug. 

“We could build something?” You suggest. “Maybe, like, a paper airplane launcher?” 

He hums, tilting his head back and wrinkling his nose in thought. 

“What about something with electromagnetism?” You nod slowly. 

“That could be good. We could keep with the idea of building something and make an electric motor with things people have lying around their houses?” 

Eric grins at you. “Now we’re thinking. We’ll have this done in no time at all.”

Eric was right. 

The brainstorming and research portion of the project had been completed within a few hours, and the two of you had cast your laptops to the side to search your apartment for things to use. Paper clips, some sort of copper wire (you had no idea why anyone would have a copper wire hanging around their house. Eric, however, said that there were several around the frat house), wood, some batteries. Anything that the two of you could use. The only thing neither of you had was a staple gun.

“It’s getting late,” Eric notes with a quick glance toward your living room window. You hum in response, lying back on your couch with your phone in your hand. “I should get going soon.”

Your eyes flick to him, but he isn’t looking at you. “Do you wanna stay the night?” 

Silence. A long moment of silence, and then Eric looks at you with a look nearing scandalized. 

“What?” You sit up, draping your arms over the back of your couch and getting a better look at him. 

“You heard me.” His face is bright red, similar to the night of the party. 

“Why would— why would I want— I mean th— thank you for the offer but— but I can’t stay the night. Why would— where would I even sleep? I don’t have clothes to sleep in!” He throws every excuse he could possibly think of at you, adding to your amusement. He had no clothes, where would he sleep, you had classes earlier in the morning than him, it would be weird if he stayed the night. It was cute. 

You’ll admit it, Eric was cute. The puppy-like look in his eyes, the pout on his lips. Everything about him was cute. It almost shocked you how fast you were able to get over the anger that he only wanted to sleep with you. In fact, you weren’t sure that’s what he even wanted from you. Only one way to find out, right?

“Eric,” you finally cut off his rambling and his voice stops, leaving your apartment oddly quiet. “Come here.” 

He listens, slowly slinking toward you. Eric is nervous, you can tell. Every step he takes, every twitch when you shift your body. It fills you with pride, or maybe some other emotion. 

Eric stops when he’s right in front of you, just a few steps from the back of the couch and both of you (really just him) are all too aware of how his crotch is level with your mouth. 

“I wanna tell you something,” you beckon him toward you with one finger and he slowly, albeit a bit awkwardly as well, bends down so that his face is just above yours. Heat radiates off his face, so hot that you may start sweating soon. “Do you wanna know a secret?”

His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands gripping the couch for dear life, short nails digging into the cheap fabric. 

“Sure.” Eric’s voice is hoarse, and it makes you smile. 

“I kinda like you, Eric.” 

Your lips press gently against his. Entirely experimental, just enough to see what he would do. His body seizes up, his breath hitching in his throat. He doesn’t move against you, doesn’t tilt his head or part his lips. He sits there like the lead in a lame drama where the main characters seem like they couldn’t be less into each other. You begin to pull away from him, fearing you’d made him a bit uncomfortable, but a whine is pulled from his throat when your lips part from his. 

You look at him, but he’s already looking at you with wide, bulging eyes. 

“Eric…” You have a sneaking suspicion that you know why he didn’t kiss you. “Have you…has no one ever kissed you before?”

“What?” The boy’s voice is shrill, and you know the answer. “Of— of course, I’ve been kissed? What kind of question is that?” 

Your lips quirk up. “Are you sure? It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you know.”

“What— why would I be embarrassed?” His frustration and denial are cute. Adorable, really. 

“Because you’re a sophomore in college and have been kissed once— by your physics partner, no less.” You smirk playfully and then gasp, pushing up and toward him suddenly. He reels back, nearly falling backward with the suddenness of the motion. “Eric Sohn! Are you a virgin?”

Eric looks like he’s about to cry from embarrassment, and he turns away from you completely. You grimace briefly and climb off the couch to come around and stand in front of him. He avoids your gaze by looking above you, around you, at the floor and the walls. 

“Eric,” your voice is gentle now. He doesn’t move, nor does he make any noise. He’s like a deer in headlights. “Eric, can you look at me.”

“No,” he denies, crossing his arms over his chest. You feel a bubble of amusement rising in your stomach. “You’re just gonna make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” You promise, your hand grazing his forearm. Eric’s eyes lock with yours, and for once you choose to hold his gaze. “Now, can you tell me the truth so I can help you?” 

“Help me,” he echoes with an air of offense. “I don’t need help!”

“Eric, you’re a sophomore in college who’s in the most popular frat on the campus. Add onto that your personality and your good looks, you should be getting bitches left and right.” You say pointedly and the tips of his ears flush red. Or, rather, as red as they can when his whole face is burning up from your prior insinuations. 

“What if I’m just waiting for marriage?” He counters. “Or— or the right person?” Your lips draw into a thin line, knowing that statement was bullshit. 

“We both know you wouldn’t be hard as a rock right now if that was the case.”

Eric’s heart plummets to the ground, his eyes following it to check for himself. To his complete and utter dismay, you weren’t lying. Pressing against the front of his cargo pants was the solid outline of his member, straining against the seam and begging to be released. 

“I— I am so— so sorry,” he stammers, his hands yanking the edge of his sweatshirt down to cover himself, his hands remaining carefully placed over his crotch but he knows it’s too late. “I didn’t— I don’t— oh my god I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” you reassure him, holding tightly onto his sleeve so he can’t run for the door. “I knew you wanted to sleep with me, it was kind of obvious.”

“No I— I don’t want—” Eric frantically shakes his head. “I don’t— I can’t— I don’t wanna sleep with you— I mean I do, I really really do, but not— not like this—”

The hand on his sleeve comes up to grab his cheeks, squeezing them together until his lips are pushed out and he can’t speak anymore. 

“You can admit it, Eric.” You hum, and with your hand still on his face, you begin to walk him back and around to the side of the couch. He yelps when you push him back, letting go of his face and watching him fall over the arm and land with an oof on the cushions. “You can admit that you wanted to fuck me from the moment you saw me.”

“But I—” He choked on spit before he could finish talking, eyes widening into saucers when you climbed onto the couch, crawling up to sit on his lap. He’s sitting up straight now, but the risk of falling back again is high with nothing to support his spine. Your hands just rest on his shoulders, not digging in or moving to grasp anything else. They stay there, waiting for him to make the first move. 

“Tell me if you don’t want me to continue, Eric.” His hands are trembling, his pulse higher than it’s ever been. He slowly rotates his body, placing his feet firmly on the ground and resting his spine against the back of the couch so that he doesn’t hurt either of you. 

“I want—” his voice cracks. 

“What do you want?” Your lips are on his neck, featherlight kisses being left in your wake and knocking the breath out of him. He’d never felt like this, he’d never been touched like this save for his own hand in the darkness of his room with an animated video on loop on his laptop screen. At his lack of response, you pull your lips back from his neck. Eric lets out a loud whine at this, his left hand coming to the back of your head to lightly try and push you back into him. 

“Keep doing that,” he gasps out, and you smile. 

“Don’t you want me to kiss you?” You ask him, and another whine tumbles from his lips.

“I— fuck, I do— god, why are you doing this to me?”

“I just wanna know what you want, Eric,” you’re teasing him and you know it, but you’re pretty sure Eric might fall to pieces if you don’t give him something soon. “Can’t you tell me what you want?” 

“Just—” he leans his head back, and you watch the rapid bobbing of his throat as he tries to swallow and take in air and do anything to calm himself down. “Just do something.”

“What’s the magic word?” He raises his head, gasping when he finds your lips suddenly inches from his own. 

“Ple— please?” Your lips quirk up.

“Actually, it was—”

You don’t get the chance to tease him anymore. He crushes your lips together with so much force that it almost hurts. There’s nothing coherent about the way he kisses you, although you could hardly call it a kiss at all. It was more him putting his mouth against yours, tilting his head, and squeezing his eyes shut. It’s clear from the moment it started that he’s never been kissed before and that knowledge has you squirming in his lap. 

“Eric,” you’ve barely pulled back and he’s chasing your lips as if you’re a glass of his favorite wine. “Eric, hold on.”

“Why?” His eyes flutter open and you have to force yourself not to kiss him senseless, even if he has no idea what he’s doing.

“Just—” You inhale deeply and the scent of his cologne begins to overwhelm your senses, practically intoxicating you. “You’ve never kissed anyone before.” 

He nods, his previous embarrassment returning when you say that. “I mean…Yeah, I— I haven’t. But I—I’ve used WikiHow—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off and choose to ignore the comment about WikiHow, pressing a light kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Just follow my lead.” 

When he nods, you press your lips against his again. This time, it’s more fluid. It’s easier for you to kiss him when he’s copying your movements. It’s still awkward, your teeth smacking together painfully, but you can tell he’s getting used to the feeling. You’re able to part your lips against his, to open your mouth just enough for your tongue to slip out and brush against his lower lip. His whole body jolts, his hands digging into the fabric of your skirt hard enough that your skin would be bruised the next day. His hips roll up against yours, drawing a heady moan out of you. 

When Eric parts from you, his eyes are hazy. “Did— did you like when I did that?” 

“Yes,” you groan and begin to roll your hips down into his, watching the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his back arches off the couch. 

“F-Fuck, okay,” He screws his eyes shut again, lips completely parted as the two of you begin to hump into each other like some damn animals. Your lips meld together again, and you let your tongue slither into his mouth. It’s obvious that Eric has no idea what to do with his tongue— pushing against yours aggressively, shoving it to the side, and trying to push his into your mouth— but as the minutes pass, he begins to understand what to do. He begins to understand what makes your body react positively and what has you unintentionally cringing away from him. 

Your lips part from his one more time but you hardly give him time to complain before you place a kiss on his cheek, then the corner of his jaw, and then right below his ear. He emits a nearly wild moan at this, his hips jerking up into yours in such a way that his bulge presses against your clit and punches a moan out of you. Being the quick learner that he is, Eric adjusts his position and rolls his hips up again and again and again, addicted to the way you sound and feel against him. 

“Eric,” you whine, parting from his neck. “Eric, oh my god.” 

He just huffs into your collarbone, licking and sucking and trying desperately to not cum too soon, but you just feel so good against him that he just can’t help it. 

His hips stutter against yours, and he moans so loud you fear that the neighbors hear it. You let him continue to grind into you, to work himself through his orgasm as your slips back and escapes you. It doesn’t matter, you’d get yourself when he leaves—

“You didn’t cum.” 

“What?” You blink dumbly at him, and Eric begins to pout. 

“You didn’t— you didn’t cum. You should’ve told me. I would’ve held off!” You knew that wasn’t true. He could barely hold himself together from a few kisses, what made him think he’d be able to hold himself off until you came? 

“It’s fine, Eric.” You reassure him, but he’s having none of it. You can’t stop him from lifting you off his hips and settling you against the couch cushions. Well…you probably could, but you wanted to see where this went. 

You watch as he unceremoniously yanks down your panties, not bothering with your skirt whether out of impatience or because he liked seeing you in it. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Eric peers up at you, a boyish smile on his face. 

“Can’t be that hard, right?” You laugh, choosing not to argue with him. You’d tell him, when it came time, where your clit is but for now? You’d let him work things out for himself. 

Your body shudders when Eric takes his first taste, licking from the bottom to the top of your pussy. You’re amazed that he didn’t accidentally go too far down like most (slightly more experienced) men have. It’s almost impressive how much attention he pays to your quivering body, and you flip your skirt up so you can see his face buried into you. Every lick draws out a moan from both of you, and you can see him starting to roll his hips down onto the couch. 

“Fuck,” his words are muffled by your cunt, and vile slurping noises accompany him. “Could get addicted to the taste of you.”

“Mm, feels good, Eric.” Your eyes flutter shut, one of your hands slipping down to tangle in his blonde strands of hair and tugging him up slightly. Your other hand taps at your clit lightly, making your body jolt a bit. “Here. This— fuck— feels good here.”

“That’s it?” He drops his head down again, swatting your hand out of the way to replace it with his own. His touch is much rougher than yours, his hands thick and calloused compared to your delicate ones. “Right here?” 

You whine for him, and he has to bite on his tongue to not cum again so fast. He’s quick to attach his mouth to your clit, sucking violently and swiping his tongue against it. If you weren’t impressed by him before, you most certainly were now. It hadn’t taken him long at all to figure out what felt good for you. Reading your mind and body was almost second nature to him, it seemed, and it became abundantly clear when your orgasm began to rise again.

“Close, Eric!” You gasped out, “I’m close!”

He groans against you, catching your hips in his hands when they begin to roll into his face. Eric wanted to drown in you. He wanted to feel you shake around him for the rest of his damn life. He wanted to hear you screaming his name until your throat was raw and your voice was gone. 

And the sight of you cumming on his face, your essence soaking his chin and dripping onto his sweatshirt? 

If he could stay glued to you for the rest of his life, he fucking would.

Becoming a habit came easy for you and Eric. You’re not dating, but you’re unsure of whether the puppy-like boy cares or not. You discovered very quickly that he would do anything for you, would learn anything for you. You’d successfully taught him how to kiss a girl without looking like a dumbass (i.e. the straight-face-to-sudden-kiss scenario you’d faced too many times to count), how to finger you and hit all the right spots, where not to put his mouth and fingers unless explicitly told otherwise. There was, of course, your next problem.

Eric refused to put his dick in you.

You knew he was clean, both of you had gotten tested when you originally began screwing around. You knew he liked you, that much was obvious. He looked at you as if you hung the stars in the sky, he told you how much he loved you every time you gave him head. He just…never went farther than that. Was he scared? Did he not want you as bad as you (very clearly) wanted him? It made you nauseous to think about, but it was getting frustrating how all you two did was make out, grind on each other like teenagers, and give each other head every time you saw each other. Shit— he was even fine with fingering you underneath the table in your lecture the other day! 

That’s why you developed a plan. Here you were, standing outside of the Tau Beta Zeta frat house under the guise of needing to work on your project (which wasn’t necessarily a lie) but really planning on getting him to finally fuck you. Yes, you were aware of the fact that he was a virgin but it was obvious from the start that he didn’t give a shit about that.

Unless he did. Your hand pauses just inches from the door, but you shake your head to clear the anxious thought and you knock on the door. 

One, two, three…one, two three…one—

On the third round of knocks, a boy swings the door open. His eyes are wide, his hair in disarray. 

“Hi.” You wave your hand with a smile, but the boy just stands there with a dumb look on his face. Were all the TBZ boys like this? 

“…Hi?” He says it in the form of a question, which draws a laugh out of you. 

“I’m Y/N.”

“…Sunwoo…” 

“Oh, the star soccer player, right?” He nods and you grin. “I saw your last game, the one where your girlfriend— I’m assuming girlfriend— knocked some sense into you. You really killed it out there!”

“Thank you…uh…can— can I help you?” You rock back and forth on your heels, biting at your lip in thought. The idea of wearing a skirt is choosing to bite you in the ass as a cold breeze picks up. 

“I’m here for Eric, actually. Um…Eric Sohn? I think he lives here, right?” Sunwoo’s jaw drops, his head dipping down as well and he steps to the side to let you in. You smile, using your feet to pull your shoes off as you step into the entryway. You see a pile of shoes to your left, the larger men’s pairs shoved into a large pile while some smaller women’s shoes sit neatly. You can’t help but wonder if it was the girlfriends that did this or if one of the frat members cares a bit more about them than the others. 

“He’s…he’s on the second floor, third door on the left…” You thank Sunwoo, ignoring how he follows you with obvious confusion and awe. Another boy passes by you, staring in confusion but ends up in the same state as the soccer player when he explains the situation. 

You knock before you enter Eric’s room, rocking on your heels again as you wait for some sort of response. You get none, and when you go to interrupt him, the second boy stops you. 

“Hi, um, I’m Haknyeon— you can call me Hak, though— Eric’s— he’s— he’s gaming. You can just go in because there’s no way you’re gonna get his attention by— by, um— yeah.” He stumbles over his words in an almost incomprehensible way, but you get the basic idea. 

“Thanks, Hak,” you dip your head and twist the doorknob. Sunwoo and Hak both watch you enter the room, only snapping out of their daze when you shut the door tightly behind you. 

“You…you saw that too, right?” Haknyeon grabs Sunwoo by the shoulder with a grin on his face.

“My best friend…” Sunwoo’s voice is quiet with confusion. “He’s…he’s getting bitches?”

“What did I say about saying that,” his girlfriend pops around the corner with a scowl on her face. Sunwoo’s face lights up, but it disappears at the scolding gaze she gives him.

“Sorry, baby,” he pouts and she rolls her eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Give them some damn privacy,” she clicks her tongue, eyeing the door. “Lord knows they’re probably gonna need it.”

Eric is facing a large gaming setup when you enter the room. You can see the dark polo sweater which is partially unzipped to reveal some of his chest, the beige hat, and the khaki combo he had, unfortunately, chosen to wear today (you’re going to have to update his closet soon, whether you date him or not. You have to save the next girl he’s with). The lights, shockingly, are purple rather than the red you had expected. You can see expensive monitors and a keyboard, all of which are cleaner than any other gamer’s setup that you’d seen. In fact, his whole room is so much cleaner than you had ever given him credit for. You’d expected to see something absolutely filthy, but Eric never fails to shock you.

What doesn’t shock you, however?

Five Nights At Freddy’s playing on the screens.

You clear your throat, and he barely even spares a glance at you. You wonder if he even recognized that it was you—

“Yo, Y/N!” Oh god, this might not go as planned. “You’re early!” 

“Figured I’d come by to hang out before we got started on the paper.” You come up behind him, dropping your bag and jacket by the edge of the bed, revealing the black sheer top you’d chosen to go with your white skirt. You’d also chosen the perfume you know gets his attention the most, the one that always has him practically gluing his face to your neck. 

That doesn’t happen this time. He stays glued to his game, his legs spread wide open and tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. 

“Feel— fuck!” His body jerks when an animatronic (Foxy, maybe?) comes out of a vent and gives him barely enough time to start protecting himself. “Feel free to make yourself comfortable, I might take a while.”

You hum, not moving from your spot. Your hands are on the back of his gaming chair, your eyes focused on the screen with fake intrigue. He doesn’t acknowledge you, so you let your hands begin to sink onto his shoulders. His chin tilts toward you a bit, but he corrects himself and goes back to ignoring you even when your nails graze the skin of his collarbone. 

“What are you doing?” Eric asks, but it’s more dismissive than anything. 

“Just watching you play,” you reply with a sly grin. Another jumpscare appears, and he grunts when you intentionally dig your nails into him (something you’ve learned he loves over the past two weeks). 

Part two of your scheme begins when you sink to your knees beside Eric and slip under his desk. This grabs his attention. Eric watches as you get comfortable, no longer paying attention to the screens in front of him when you run your hands up his thighs, grazing the button of his khaki pants. 

“Y/N, this—” his breath catches in his throat when you finally undo the button and pull the zipper down. You can see his member already hardening, twitching in his boxers. “You don’t have to— I don’t— why—”

“Jus’ play your game, baby.” You purr, your fingers hooking under the band of his boxers to tug them and his pants down at the same time. His jaw is hanging open, eyes wide with awe, but you stop your movements. “Play your game, Eric, or I’m leaving.”

His response is immediate, sliding his chair closer to you and lifting his hips to let you work. Your smirk is wide, and you yank his clothing down in one go, letting them rest around his ankles. Eric’s knee begins to bounce, and you rest your hand on top of it to steady him. His member, in just a few moments, has completely hardened. You can see the slick precum beginning to leak from his tip, and you lower your mouth to catch each drop on his tongue. 

The moan he emits is loud, and you pull your mouth back just an inch to dig your nails into his thigh.

“Stay quiet and don’t cum unless I say so.” He whimpers in response, and you bring your mouth back onto him. You begin by suckling at his tip, letting your tongue swirl around him like a lollypop, and listening to his barely restrained moans. You hear clicking and tapping on his keyboard, as well as random noises from the game

You take him a little deeper and his thighs tense, but he’s good at staying quiet. He’s good even when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag around him. Even when you take him so deep that you’re choking on him and spit is dripping from your mouth and onto his skin. Even when you begin hollowing your mouth and bobbing your head, and swallowing around him a few times when you take him all the way down so your nose is against his pelvis. 

Another jumpscare and his hips jerk and force him farther down your throat. You moan around him, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, and that elicits a whine from him.

“Y/N,” he pleads. “I’ve been s-so good for yo—you right? Haven’t— Haven’t I been good? Ple—please let me cum. Jus’ wanna cum, please?” 

Eric sees you look up at him through your eyelashes, and just the sight of you slobbering all over him has his eyes rolling back in his head.

Then you pull off him completely, leaving his dick twitching and lonely against his stomach. 

“Why did— why did you pull off?” His eyes are dazed, and you flash a coy smile at him. 

“I told you to pay attention to the game, didn’t I?” 

“I— yeah, you did but— but I just— you—” Eric is tearing up as you begin to push your body out from under the desk to stand in front of him. 

“Poor baby,” you cup his cheek and your stomach churns when he leans into your palm with a sigh. “Should’ve just paid attention and beat the night, then, hm?” 

“Please,” he whines, leaving little kisses on your palm and working his way to your wrist, your forearm, your elbow, and then he’s pulling you onto his lap so you’re nearly sitting on his dick. You can feel it pulsing against your core, and you can’t help the tiny rolls of your hips to gain some sort of friction. “Please, just— I’ll…I’ll do anything you want. I’ll— I’ll eat you out, I’ll finger you, fuck, I’ll— I’ll let you sit on my face if that’s what you want.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against his chest in thought. “What if I want you to fuck me?” 

His body tenses and his cheeks begin to flush, his eyes refusing to meet yours. 

“Eric,” you say softly, moving your hand to his chin and forcing him to look at you. “Eric, talk to me.”

“I— I don’t—”

“I’m not gonna force you to do anything, Eric,” you reassure him, stopping the ministrations of your hips and bringing your free hand to the side of his neck. “I just want to know why. I want to understand. Do you— do you not want me? Do you wanna save yourself for another girl?” 

“No!” He snaps, his voice a bit harsher than he’d intended for it to come out but it has you flinching away from him. In a moment of panic, he brings his hands to your waist and tugs you closer to him. “I— sorry. It’s not— it’s not that at all.”

“Then why?” Your hands are playing with the ends of his blonde hair, and Eric swallows once. Twice. And then he tucks his head into your shoulder. 

“I…I don’t know.” 

You nod, disappointment filling you, but you don’t let it show. 

“Let’s work on the project.” You slide off his lap, ignoring the somewhat heartbroken gaze he shoots you. “The paper is due in a couple of days, so I grabbed a few sources and drafted an outline.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just tucks his member back into his pants and comes to join you on his bed. The air is tense and you know he wants to say something. You wait for him to say it. 

He doesn’t.

“Eric, you’re fucking stupid.” Sunwoo throws himself onto his best friend’s bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to the sound of Eric hitting his head on his desk.

“I know…”

“I mean, we already knew this from previous incidents. Ahem, giving my then-crush-now-girlfriend a concussion. But holy shit I thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.”

“I know!” Eric whines, sitting heavily on the gaming chair he’d gotten head on almost four hours ago, and could have gotten laid in had he not been a damn moron.

“I mean, you’ve been trying to get laid by this chick for how long? And you cockblocked yourself because…” Sunwoo trails off, his eyebrows knitting together as he sits up. “Wait, why did you cockblock yourself?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eric huffs and leans his head back. “Fuck, she was so nice about it too. Too nice. I know damn well she’s pissed at me but she’s too fucking nice to say anything.”

“Well yeah,” Sunwoo shrugs. “Sex 101— don’t force yourself onto anyone. Hello? Why would she do that to you?”

Eric crosses his arms over his chest, using his feet to spin his chair back and forth lightly. You had been really sweet about everything. You could’ve gotten mad at him, especially since this wasn’t the first time this had happened, but you didn’t. You wanted him to be ready. 

And he was. He was so ready! He just— he gets nervous around you! What if he’s a disappointment? What if he’s so bad that you have to fake an orgasm? What if he doesn’t fit? What if he hurts you?

“Eric,” Sunwoo claps his hands together to snap Eric out of his thoughts. “Stop getting distracted while I’m trying to help you in a way that won’t lead to injuries.” 

The poor, self-cockblocked boy lifts his head with a pout. 

“There’s a party this weekend, right?” 

“Yeah…” Eric tilts his head.

“Make sure she’s there. Use whatever excuse you need to, and make sure she shows up. Then, ask her to talk. Go somewhere private, talk to her, tell her you’re ready, and then fuck until the sun comes up.” Sunwoo claps again, throwing his out to the side in a cocky I just made the best plan ever manner. “First of all, gets you laid, second of all— free revenge on Sangyeon.”

Eric drums his fingers against his legs in thought. The plan was good, he’d admit that. Of course, not out loud. No, he would never let Sunwoo know that he was right about something.

“Fine,” Eric agrees. “But if shit goes south, it’s your fault.”

“Deal,” Sunwoo grins mischievously. “And if shit goes right, you owe me and my girlfriend dinner.”

“Deal.”

Eric doesn’t see you at all that week, something that has him nearly crying on the ground in Sangyeon’s bedroom. He’d texted you, asked if you were okay, sent you notes, told you about the party but didn’t outright invite you. Nothing. No sign of you in lectures, no texts from you aside from a confirmation that you’d submit your written portion of the midterm.

“Take a damn breath.” Sangyeon rolls his eyes and tugs a formfitting black mock-neck shirt over his head, sliding a silver chain around his neck afterward. “She’s probably busy.”

“But she never goes this long without texting me! Or being in a lecture!” The youngest member of the frat holds his head in his hands, staring down at the white buttondown shirt that hung somewhat loosely on his body. 

“Maybe she hates you, I don’t know!” Sangyeon exclaims. “Stop bothering me about it!” Eric pouts up at the TBZ president.

“But you know how to handle these things!”

“Not when you’re on my ass about it all day every day for a week straight.” Sangyeon’s lip curls and Eric huffs, laying back on the hardwood floor. “Dude, just be patient. Who knows, maybe she was sick? Maybe she’ll show up today and you’ll get laid. Just. Be. Patient.”

And patient he was. 

He lurked around the party, a drink in his hand and a ripped red baseball cap covering his head and shielding his red-rimmed eyes from the public. They didn’t need to know he’d cried over his two-year-long crush ghosting him. 

“Who pissed in your cheerios?” He turns his body slowly, ready to crack a corny joke, and walk away from whoever yelled in his ear, but he stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. You’re in another tiny little black skirt and a black bralette that was used as a poor excuse for a shirt with a leather jacket thrown over it. He nearly crumbles in front of you, ready to worship you and the ground you walk on, ready to take you in front of all these people so they know that he’s yours.

“Oh my god.” 

You laugh at the dumbstruck look in his eyes, at the way his eyes are stuck on your chest, and the way your bralette pushes your boobs up just enough to catch attention. 

“You okay, Eric?” Your hand is on his arm, and in an instant his cup is thrown to the side and his lips are on yours, his tongue shoved into your mouth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, and, really, the suddenness of it all, but you don’t complain. You love how frantic he is for you, love how he’s ready to risk it all after just a week of not seeing you. 

When he parts from you, there’s a string of spit connecting your lips that only breaks when you swipe your thumb across his lip. 

“How’s that for a hello?” You say just loud enough for him to hear it. 

“We need to talk.”

“We do.” You confirm, but his lips are on yours again, and you’re so glad that everyone is distracted by a game of beer pong on the other side of the room. You let your eyes flutter shut, moaning into his mouth when he pushes his tongue against yours. They dance together, swirling around each other but not fighting for dominance. No, this kiss isn’t about that. This is two people being addicted to the taste of each other, two people who could never get enough of what the other has to offer. 

You have to force yourself to part from him, turning away so you can find somewhere more private— preferably his bedroom. He doesn’t stray from you, gluing his lips to the side of your neck as you try to weave through the crowd. It’s not easy, especially with Eric on you and refusing to let go, but you don’t mind. 

Not when he shoves you against his dresser as soon as his bedroom door is shut and locked. 

The handles of the drawers dig against your spine, but you’re too distracted by Eric’s lips on your chest to care. His hat is missing, likely somewhere on the staircase. Your jacket has been thrown to the opposite side of the room, the straps of your bralette shoved down and both breasts freed from its confines so Eric can lick and suck and bite at the soft mounds. 

“Eric,” you moan out, arching your back into his hunched form. He groans against you, sucking hard at your nipple and eliciting a loud moan from you. “Eric, pick me up.” 

Without even pulling away, he does, plopping you unceremoniously onto his dresser and moving his lips to the other breast, replacing his mouth with his hand. Your hand comes to the back of his head, and you find yourself smiling at the desperation your lover shows. 

“Missed me that much, huh?” Your composure is crumbling, but you don’t care. “Might have to disappear more often.”

He rips away from your chest, eyes narrowed into a glare. “Don’t even joke about that. I thought you died.”

You kiss him again, both hands holding his face to yours, and your legs wrap around his waist. Eric’s hands find your thighs and he lifts you off the dresser. He sucks on your tongue, biting on your lip when you start to pull away and you whimper at the sting of pain. 

“Thought I died, hm?” You brush back the blonde strands of hair covering his sweaty forehead and smirk. “It’s a good thing I didn’t then, hm? What would you have done? Fucked your fist for the rest of your life?” 

A muscle in his jaw feathers and he throws you down on his bed. You yelp, eyes widening at the personality change. A week ago, he would’ve been begging you for any touch, would’ve been falling apart just for one look at your dripping pussy. But now?

Now he looks like a starved animal, and you’re the first helpless creature he’s seen in weeks. 

“Eric,” you warn, watching him unbutton his shirt. “Remember what I said.” 

He eyes you, smirking at the way your jaw drops when his shirt hits the floor. It’s odd, isn’t it? You’d probably been bare in front of him countless times but you’d hardly seen him with his pants down.

“Holy fuck.” You stare at his torso, at the chiseled abs and biceps, at the veins in his arms, at the trail of hair leading down to his dick. “You’re— you’re fucking shredded.”

“Shredded?” He quirks an eyebrow, undoing his belt and the button of his pants so he can push them down and kick them to the side. “That’s the first word you thought of?”

“Well—” you clear your throat and turn your gaze away from him. “I mean— you are.”

“Cute,” He coos and crawls over you, hooking his fingers into the hem of your skirt. “May I?”

“You may,” you look at him again, then down his body and swallow hard at the sight of him. You’ve seen him many times. You’ve held him in your hand, in your mouth. You know what to expect.

So why does it make you so nervous now?

“You’re getting distracted,” Eric kisses his teeth, lowering his face to yours but not kissing you. He traces his nose across your cheek, light kisses from his lips going with it. His nose nudges against your jaw, urging you to tilt your jaw up so he can kiss you there. You do, and his lips feel like fire against your skin. “I thought you liked it when people pay attention?”

“I— I do!” You gasp out, and Eric laughs against your skin. Where the fuck is all this confidence coming from? 

“Then why aren’t you paying attention to me?” His fingers press against your sopping-wet entrance and you lift your hips in a weak attempt to get them inside of you. 

“I am!” Tears are welling in your eyes. “I am paying attention to you, Eric, please!”

He juts out his lip in a mocking pout, using the hand that’s not against your heat to wipe the tears away. 

“Okay baby,” he says softly, sinking two thick, calloused fingers into you. “Don’t cry, not yet.” 

The intrusion has you crying out and Eric does his best to hush you, to soothe you, and then he’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a fast pace. Your fingers cling to his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and shift with every movement of his arm. Eric grins when your eyes finally flutter shut, when you finally give in to him. He praises you when he slips a third finger into your core, and then a fourth. He praises you as he works you through the sting, curling his fingers gently to search for the spot he knows would have you falling to pieces under him. 

Eric finds it easily and is oh so pleased by your wail of his name. He grins almost maliciously, when you begin to shake, when your body begins to thrash, and your nails dig into his shoulders and drag down his back. 

“Always so easy for me,” he hums, staring in awe at the wrinkle between your eyebrows and how your tongue practically hangs out of your mouth. When he knows you’re about to cum, he crushes his lips against yours again and begins to move his hand faster. You’re sobbing into his mouth, unable to kiss him back between your cries and moans, but Eric doesn’t mind. 

He lets you grind against his hand until you’re not shaking anymore. Then, and only then, does he pull his fingers out of you, watching with curious satisfaction as your cum drips from his fingers and onto the blanket below you. 

“Don’t— don’t sit there staring at that shit.” you hiss, but Eric just smiles. 

“So you can speak coherently now?” 

“Shut up and fuck me already, or do you need me to teach you how to do that too?” 

Eric’s gaze hardens, his tongue pushing against his cheek. You push yourself to sit up, but Eric pushes you right back down and uses his hands to push your legs apart. 

“I don’t need you to teach me anything,” he grunts, lining his member up with your entrance. 

“Really? That’s not what it looked like three weeks ag—oh fuck!” Your back arches off the bed when he suddenly sinks into you. Four fingers seem to have been just barely enough, the sting fading just as fast as it came. Or maybe you just like the pain so much it turned into pleasure. Whatever the reason, you’re quick to tell Eric to pick up the pace. 

You’re both shocked and impressed by the movement of his hips. He alternates between smooth, sharp rolls and harsh, pointed thrusts that have your body forced up the bed and the headboard knocking against the wall.

“You think I need your help?” Eric growls, digging his hands into your thighs and spreading them farther apart, lifting the lower half of your body a bit to change the angle. This brings a new pleasure to both of you. Something that you’ve never felt before, and has your mind reeling. “I didn’t need you. I wanted you. I wanted every part of you. I craved you, craved your taste. It was pure fucking luck that you wanted me too.”

“Eric,” You gasp out, sinking your teeth into the side of his neck to leave another mark on his skin. “Eric, feels so good, god it feels so good please, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, oh my god!”

“Look at you,” he yanks your head out of his neck by your hair, staring down at your fucked out face as he continues to plow into you with no remorse. “All fucked out for me. I did this. Your little virgin boy. Isn’t it embarrassing?” 

You whine in response but apparently, that isn’t what he’s looking for because he slows down at your lack of response. 

“Answer me,” he hisses.

“I— I don’t— Eric I don’t—” You don’t even know what he’s trying to ask. You stopped listening as soon as he pulled your hair, the sting of it feeling too good. Eric laughs, picking up his pace again and dropping your head back down onto his pillows. 

“What? Too fucked out to answer me? Who would’ve thought that I was the virgin and not you? What would people think if they walked in here and saw me fucking you like this?” He doesn’t expect an answer this time, not that you’d be able to give him one anyway. 

Your legs draw tightly around his slim waist, holding him close as your orgasm approaches again, but Eric doesn’t seem to be even close to cumming. Even when your second orgasm washes over you, and then your third. He fucks you through each one, sweat dripping from his hair and down his torso until his body is sliding against yours. Your body feels numb, but at the same time, you can feel everything. Every drag of his length against your walls, every punch of his tip against your cervix. Your arms curl around his neck, but your grip is loose. 

When Eric’s hips finally begin to stutter, you’re about four orgasms in, the fifth about to wash over you. Your voice is hoarse, a puddle of drool on the pillow under your head. You can’t find it in you to make any more noise, just gasping breathes and quiet whines. You cum together, and the feeling of his cum filling you has your back arching again. This time, Eric catches you and holds your body against his. He kisses you gently, uncaring that you can barely breathe let alone kiss him. 

“That— that was a good talk,” he jokes, and you say nothing at first. “Um…are— are you okay?” 

“You just—” you clear your throat, but it does nothing. “You just fucked me within an inch of my life, as a completely inexperienced virgin, and you’re asking me if I’m okay?” 

Eric frowns, settling down on top of you, but careful not to lay his full weight onto your obviously aching body. He can see the bruises he’d left all over you— on your chest, your neck, your hips. Anywhere his lips or hands touched, there was a bruise left in his wake. He imagines, however, that he looks no different. He can feel the scratches you left on his back, marring every inch of his skin and likely drawing a bit of blood, he can see a hickey on his arm that you left at some point and can imagine how the front of his body looks.

“So…so you’re not okay?” He tries and you huff, throwing an arm over your eyes. 

“Eric, I love you, but you’re such a dumbass.” You groan, shoving him off your body so you can breathe properly. “Go draw a bath. I’m gonna need one after that shit.”

“Before I do, can you answer one question?” You pry your eyes open to scowl at him and his damn puppy-like eyes. 

“What?” 

“Are we— are we dating now?” 

“We won’t be for long if you don’t get that fucking bath going.” 

“Aw, yeah!” Eric cheers, jumping off the bed and running to the bathroom to start the bath like you asked. “Guess who isn’t single anymore, Sunwoo!”

“What’s your problem?” Haknyeon peers at Sangyeon over the lip of his mug. The frat president is glaring at you and Eric with something murderous in his eyes, which seem to have dark bags under them.

“My bedroom is right next to Eric’s.” Haknyeon raises an eyebrow, and Sangyeon clears his throat. “My bedroom is next to Eric’s.”

“Okay…oh. OH. Oh, shit man, I’m sorry.” Haknyeon turns his gaze to the two of you, grimacing at the thought of how long Sangyeon could have been kept up, but smiling when he sees how the two of you are cuddled on the couch. The grimace returns when he sees the state of your necks, neither of you having bothered to hide what you did to each other. 

“I mean,” Sunwoo sits on the counter, a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You kinda deserved it after what you did to him.”

“What the fuck— what did I do to him?” Sangyeon exclaims, and Sunwoo quirks an eyebrow. 

“You fucked your girlfriend for, what, seven rounds straight? The poor man didn’t get any sleep that night. Be glad you were able to rest after that.”

Haknyeon raises his cup, and the three frat boys return to “subtly” watching the two of you.

“Do you at least know if he was good? You know, for a virgin.”

“Oh my fucking god, Sunwoo, shut up.”

“You shut up, Hak! It was just a question!”

“You two are fucking nasty,” Sangyeon’s lip curls into a sneer, trying to block out the memories of last night. “But I’m gonna need a shit ton of bleach if I wanna forget that bullshit.”

“Hot.”

“Sunwoo, shut UP!”

© itsbeeble. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[inf3ct3dd]

ellie headcanons pt.5!!!

warnings: nada

content: loser!ellie x reader headcanons

authors note : ellie dug a hole into my skull and moved in

⁃ against bags for no reason. like her pockets are constantly full of things. random receipts, money, headphones, EVERYTHING. she takes her pants of and they jingle cuz they're filled with COINS.

⁃ knows how to do a back bridge and just HAS to let everyone know. you're watching tv and she's just on the floor like "look"

⁃ i feel like shes the type of person to just start fully eating an orange in the middle of class. like ur listening to the teacher talk and you're just hit by the most aggressive wave of CITRUS from behind you

⁃ constantly fighting the air... like she's just in the kitchen punching and kicking at NOTHING just because. she's always coming up to you and like take punching you and doing her own sound effects like “PWAH PWAH WAM WAPOW"

⁃ jar hoarder 😞😞 every time you buy anything that comes in a jar she's keeping it. literally won't let you throw them away!!! you guys don't even have cups anymore, its just jars and mugs.

⁃ speaking of mugs, ellie has just as many stupid mugs as she does stupid tshirts. absolutely has a lot of garfield mugs be she LOVES GARFEILD

- would buy a dry-erase board for your fridge and leave u little notes and drawings

⁃ "Every single time I see you, I become horny like a triceratops" with a little drawing of a triceratops"

⁃ breaks into incoherent ramblings when shes sleepy... like insane hypotheticals

"what if our bed just completely exploded right now"

⁃ whenever ur on facetime and it gets quiet she just breaks out into song. not even like good, trying singing but BAD SINGING.

⁃ she does that whenever it's quiet !!!

⁃ is listening to music CONSTANTLY. her headphones are actually attached to her ears like all DAY she's listening to something.

⁃ HATES THE BIG LIGHT (iykyk) she lives for low/ natural lighting definitely has so many lamps and led lights

⁃ can never sit normal.... like she is not beating the gay ppl sitting weird allegations she sits so ODD

⁃ will spend literal hours in the pool. doing flips, pretending to be a mermaid, 'making up' her own tricks, she lives for it & !!!

⁃ refuses to dress right for the weather. it'll be like 90° outside and shes in a whole hoodie and jeans.

⁃ has the WEIRDEST subway order. probably puts banana peppers on her shit 😭😭 she swears its the best thing ever

⁃ love's campy comedy movies, esp lesbian ones and horror movies (but im a cheerleader, bottoms, scary movie, etc) also def loves coming of age movies

⁃ has a letterbox account and makes extremely thought provoking reviews

literally her

⁃ always taking candids of you, and they're literally her favorite pictures

⁃ every time she sees two things next to eachother she's like "oh my god it's literally us!!"

⁃ one time she crashed her car and it literally fully flipped over and she just crawled out of the trunk and called you like "you would NOT believe what just happened to me."

- absolutely a waffles girl she needs the texture she likes the CRUNCH

⁃ but like she also loves bacon pancakes. like she's obsessed w adventure time and she makes bacon pancakes ALL THE TIME and she sings the song while she makes them

- eats trail mix like all day....she buys the giant jars and you make fun of her cuz she "likes eating nuts"

⁃ the most secret swifty ever. like she refuses to let it be known but she fully sobbed when she listened to folklore for the first time

⁃ obsessed w those baby sensory videos. like she will literally be entertained for hours

⁃ LOVES the lego movies, esp lego batman

⁃ the MOST honest shit talker ever like you'll be like "yeah she's just a really bad person" and she'd be like "she's also like disgustingly hideous...

⁃ her search history isn’t even weird or gross its just…random. like she’s definitely googled “how do cotton candy machines work” before

⁃ family guy enjoyer.....

⁃ her cf story is like insanely long n its filled w random memes she reposts and insane ramblings

taglist!!!! if ur name is crossed i can't tag u :((

@syrenada @dinaissoprettyoml, @kingofmylastkiss @as2rid @greencacty @melissabarrerass @bratydoll @lov3lylotus @forelliesposts @echostinn @f3r4Ifr0gg3r @r3wbeef @leatheredhearts @mousymaven @mina-281@princessguardian444 @calystas-morning-tea @horror-whoree @slutshies @bearieio @mag-mfm @bubs-world @paran0id0blivi0n @sawaagyapong @bbygrIshelbs @gayh0rr0r @p|9ys @ellieslilsIvvt @dollietes @elliesmellsbadd @ibloom4u @ddreabea @beestar120 @brunettedolls-blog @girlwonderchloe @elliesgflol @maris-koffin @emonopolyman @iloveeyousblog @fr3sh-tragedies @ilovaffles @certifedcrybunny @elleatethat @baldph0bic @clouded-whispers @4rt3m1ss @saggykneecaps @swtsuna @ellesslutt @minixmel @yuyans-stuff @owmoiralover @thecowardwrites @lunascerebro @elliestrwbrry @iwantsoda @teeveegirl @dinasmoon @urnewghostfriend @k3ym4ra @bratzboydoll @ungodlyvenus @lav3nd3rhaze @scokslvoer @iloveunrealpeople @realwinehouse @nehemiahlicious @onedeaddreamer @teawithnosugar @r4t1ku5 @villainousbear @mentallymarriedtonatasharomanoff @gay4tiddies @uraesthete @lil-elliesgf @neighborhood-houseplant @sagessensationalstuff

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[coco-loco-nut]

We Can’t Be Friends

Pairing: George Russel x Reader

Summary: George’s girlfriend, a former child actor, is not well liked by the public

TW: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, implied child exploitation

A/n: going off of the more popular interpretation of the song (ari vs the public)

requests open!🫶 masterlist

———————

You just finished filming a short interview in a docuseries with some of your former colleagues, those who fell into the same trap and downfall as you did. You prefer not to air everything out, but you knew your statement would support the others.

The industry basically forced you into a drug and alcohol addiction, one that you thankfully beat, but you went from someone who was once loved to someone hated, just from how the media spun your name.

You met George at a hospital event -you now work as a biochemist and bioengineer- and he immediately recognized his childhood crush. You dated for a year before feeling strong enough to go public, but ever since he posted a very cute picture of you, the hate has started again.

“I’ll make a statement asking them to leave you alone,” George offers but you shake your head no. He hates seeing you upset, but both of you didn’t expect the backlash on you.

“They won’t understand, they could never even try. They will never know what it was like to grow up like that, even the docuseries won’t help,” you start to dismiss the thought.

“We can’t do nothing,” he tries to reason, wanting to protect you.

“I don’t want to tiptoe around the public, but I don’t want to hide, either way I’m feeding this fire,” you groan, running your hand through your hair as you pace the room. You had to call off of work today, the entrance to your townhome being blocked by paparazzi.

“The story is gonna die, and we’ll be alright,” George stands up and pulls you into a hug. In your mind you picture the public liking you again, waiting for their love again.

A few days later, George drags you out of the house for lunch, you had only been leaving for work. The two of you step out, a reporter immediately coming up to you. You ignore the first few, sitting in your silence.

“It’s just me and you, Baby girl,” George whispers to you, supporting you however you choose to respond.

“Y/n, is it true that you have been in and out of rehab for the past year? You are in and out of hospitals,” one reporter, who always hounds you, asks causing you to whirl around. You don’t want to argue, but you don’t want to bite, so you choose a confusing answer.

“You’ve got me misunderstood, but at least I look this good,” you smirk, watching their face scrunch in confusion, gripping their paper and pen, before continuing your walk.

The next day a clip of one of your short interviews drops, taken while you were in college, as a trailer for the docuseries release the following week.

~-~-~-

I don’t like how this industry painted me, but I’m still here hanging, just not what they made me. It’s almost like a daydream sometimes, finally leaving that world. I feel so seen, I am everything that I defined myself as, not all that the industry made me be. My truth and I may always sit in silence, but one day I hope I am brave enough to say it out loud. For now, it’s only me on the road after recovery, but maybe that’s all I need.

~-~-~-

buzzfeed.com/uk

A list of every child actor we need to apologize to after watching “Drugged: The Truth Behind the Lives of Child Actors”

1. Y/n Y/l/n

~-~-~-

“Are you sure you want to go out there?” George asks, looking at the crowds of journalists. You nod, tired of being silent and waiting for things to be better, not caring about feeding the fire anymore.

“Let’s go,” you release a shaky breath, stepping out behind your boyfriend as he walks you to work.

“Y/n! Anything to comment regarding the documentary that’s been released and the allegations made by your former colleagues?” A journalist asks, the rest hoarding, pens at the ready.

“Actually, I do. You owe us an apology. Villainizing children who needed someone like you to expose how awful our working conditions were, that’s sick and cruel. You wrote lies about us, and instead of apologizing, you want to ask us for statements and exploit our names more? You’re sick. We can’t be friends,” you chem them out before continuing on your way to work. A part of you will always wait for their love, but you are tired of waiting for them to like you.

“You’re a badass. I hope they will see you are the biochemist and bioengineer, not the child actor. You’ve come so far and I’m so proud,” George says once your breathing steadies from the adrenaline.

“Thank you, Georgie,” a small part of you wants to flip them off behind you, just like you would’ve done ten years ago, but you don’t, finally moving forward.

[infamous-light]

You Belong to Me Ch. 8

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5 Ch. 6 Ch. 7

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 3.9K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior

Your mind raced as you absorbed the message.

Could this be your way out?

The thought spiraled through your mind, igniting a flicker of hope deep within your chest. It was a chance – a slim one, fraught with danger and uncertainty – but a chance, nonetheless.

You stole a glance at Lady Dimitrescu, her elegant figure poised at her vanity, commanding the space around her. She focused intently on her reflection, her fingers moving with the precision of an artist as she applied the cream to her face.

Your own fingers trembled as you folded the note with as much discretion as you could muster, slipping it into your pocket. You took a deep breath, attempting to steady the storm of nerves swirling within you. Suddenly, Lady Dimitrescu’s gaze shifted from her reflection and locked onto yours through the mirror. Her eyes were sharp and penetrating, cutting through the air like a blade.

“Is something troubling you, dear? Your heart seems rather restless.” She inquired; her voice smooth but laced with concern.

Your stomach clenched in response to her words, the fear you were desperately trying to suppress bubbling dangerously close to the surface. You searched frantically for a plausible excuse – anything that might sound convincing enough to satisfy her. You swallowed hard, the action feeling monumental, as you fought to steady your voice and calm the tumultuous beating of your heart.

“I don't feel well, my Lady.” You managed to say, your words wobbly as they spilled from your lips.

You could hear the tremor in your own voice, and you hoped she would attribute it to your alleged illness. Lady Dimitrescu frowned, her eyes narrowing further as she scrutinized you from head to toe.

“You were feeling fine just a moment ago.” She remarked, her voice low and suspicious.

The tension hung in the air like a dark cloud, oppressive and foreboding. She turned in her seat, pivoting to face you fully. The fabric of her bathrobe rustled softly as it rode up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of her upper thighs. Her golden gaze, unnerving and intense, seemed to dissect you piece by piece, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. Your stomach churned violently, and for a moment, you thought you might actually get sick.

“I-I know. I thought I was,” you stammered, fighting to keep your composure. “But then a wave of nausea hit me, and I don’t really feel hungry anymore. The drug... it’s still affecting me.”

Fear gripped you so tightly at the thought of being caught with the hidden note that your hands began to shake. Before Lady Dimitrescu could open her mouth to respond, the plate slipped from your fingers, crashing to the floor in a shower of ceramic shards, scattering like the remnants of your fraying resolve. Lady Dimitrescu's eyes widened in surprise. The initial shock was quickly replaced by a simmering irritation that twisted her features into a dark scowl.

“I-I need to go to the bathroom. I think I'm going to be sick.” The words tumbled from your lips as panic surged within you.

With a sudden jolt, you sat up, your heart racing despite your weakened state. You forced yourself to move across the bedroom. The world around you twisted and blurred, dark shadows shifting into a disorienting backdrop that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Pet!”

Lady Dimitrescu's voice cut through the haze, a sharp command that made your skin prickle. The intensity of her gaze felt like a weight upon your back, yet you willed yourself to ignore her, pushing forward into the bathroom. You slumped against the cool porcelain of the sink, its unforgiving edge digging into your chest as you fought to draw in a single breath. Each inhalation felt like a struggle, your lungs constricted as panic took over, threatening to pull you under. You needed to escape this stifling place, to distance yourself from her.

Suddenly, a large shadow enveloped you.

“Pet,” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice low and silky, as her hand reached out to cradle your jaw. The warmth of her palm contrasted sharply with the chill in the air, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “Look at me.”

She gently but firmly forced you to meet her gaze, turning your body with a grip that left no room for defiance. Her eyes pierced into yours, demanding your undivided attention.

“What has gotten into you? You reek of fear.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice slow and deliberate.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

There was no way you could confess about the note or how the maid had helped you earlier. Your brain desperately wracked for something, anything, that might divert her suspicion. Perhaps honesty was the best approach – though not the truth she sought. You hoped against hope that it would work.

“That’s because I am scared,” you began, your voice quivering. “I’m scared of you, your daughters – of this whole place! Being drugged and forced to be your pet, it’s all too much! I just want to go home! I miss my family!”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you spoke, and you silently prayed that she would buy your explanation. Deep down, you meant every word. The fear, the confusion – they were painfully real. For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though a flicker of hurt crossed Lady Dimitrescu’s face before she quickly masked it with her usual veneer of authority. 

“Such dramatics,” she said, annoyance threading her tone. “I understand that this transition is difficult for you, but you must embrace your new reality. In time, you will come to see that this is your home now. You belong to me, and you will adapt to this new life, whether you wish to or not.”

Relief washed over you, grateful that she had fallen for your half-truth. However, her words lingered, unsettling you. The notion of belonging to her, of being bound to this castle still made your skin crawl. She straightened up once more, releasing her grip on your jaw.

“Now, dry those tears and finish your breakfast,” she commanded, her voice carrying an edge of dismissal. “We don’t have all day.”

***

Currently, you sat across Lady Dimitrescu’s desk, your gaze fixed on a few documents laid out before you. The whole morning consisted of helping her go through her notes, meticulously analyzing every detail and ensuring nothing was overlooked. The task was mentally exhausting, each page filled with complex information that demanded your full attention.

As you shifted in your seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, Lady Dimitrescu's keen eye caught the movement. She paused her work, her eyes lingering on you for a moment before a small smile played on her lips.

“Perhaps we should take a break,” she suggested as she set her pen down. “I’ve had my fill of these reports. How about we pay a visit to the atelier?”

Your gaze snapped up in surprise. You had heard of the room during your first week here, but you’ve never stepped foot inside. Very few of the staff ever did. Her eyes locked onto yours, glimmering with a mischievous light that made your heart beat a little faster.

“The atelier?” You questioned; your curiosity piqued.

“Yes, I would like for you to see it,” Lady Dimitrescu continued. “The atelier is where I keep my more personal projects. I think you’ll find it quite... charming.” She rose from her chair with a fluid grace that seemed almost unnatural. “Come. There's much to show you, and I believe a change of scenery will do us both some good.”

***

You approached a heavy wooden door adorned with intricate carvings. As you drew closer, the elaborate designs came into sharper focus. The carvings depicted a lush, intertwining array of vines and flowers, each petal and leaf painstakingly carved with a level of skill that spoke of centuries-old craftsmanship.

You didn't have a chance to study it further as Lady Dimitrescu pushed the door open, the heavy wood moving effortlessly under her touch.

Inside, the atelier was a stunning contrast to the rest of the castle – a treasure trove of artistry and inspiration. The walls were lined with canvases draped in rich colors while some half-finished sketches were scattered about. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystal pendants catching the light and casting a soft, golden glow that highlighted the finer details of all the artworks. And in the center, stood a large canvas, partially concealed by a heavy velvet drape.

“What do you think, pet?” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice a low purr.

You stepped into the atelier; your senses overwhelmed by the vivid colors.

“It’s… beautiful.” You breathed, your eyes wide with wonder.

She hummed appreciatively. “Indeed. There is one piece in particular that is my favorite.” She gestured to that same large canvas in the middle. “Would you like to see it?”

You gave a brief nod. “Yes, my Lady.”

With a flourish, Lady Dimitrescu pulled back the drape, revealing a striking portrait of a woman – her features eerily reminiscent of your own. The painting captured every detail: the arch of the brows, the curve of the lips, the delicate contour of the cheekbones, but it was the eyes that held you captive. They sparkled with an otherworldly light, almost as if they were alive.

You could feel Lady Dimitrescu's gaze boring into you, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. You swallowed hard, a chill creeping down your spine as you processed the painting.

“It looks… just like me.” You murmured, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Precisely.” Lady Dimitrescu said, stepping closer to you.

“Why?” You croaked, your voice sounding strained.

“There’s something about you that intrigues me,” she whispered. “Perhaps it’s fate that brought you to me.”

The corners of her lips curved upward, revealing a hint of her sharp, predatory teeth. The air grew heavy with tension, as if the very atmosphere around you had thickened.

“There’s so much more I want to share with you. So much more you could become.” Her voice was almost hypnotic, filled with promise and a hint of something darker.

Your stomach twisted, a knot of anxiety and unease forming deep within you. As the weight of her gaze came down on you, Lady Dimitrescu’s expression shifted, a playful smile breaking the intensity of the moment.

“But enough of my musings,” she said, her tone lightening. “What do you say we turn our attention to something a bit more hands-on? Would you like to try your hand at painting?”

The sudden change in topic made you do a double take. You blinked, the tension momentarily dissipating as you processed her unexpected suggestion.

“Me? Paint?” You echoed. “I’ve never really done it before.”

You looked up at Lady Dimitrescu, searching her face for any hint of mockery, but found only sincere encouragement.

“That’s fine,” she said, her smile widening. “It doesn’t require perfection; it requires passion.

She led you toward a blank canvas leaning against the right side of the wall, surrounded by a plethora of vibrant paints and clean brushes. You hesitated, glancing at the canvas and back to her.

“What should I paint?”

“Anything your heart desires,” she replied, stepping back to give you room. “Just let your instincts guide you.”

“Okay, I’ll give it a try.” You said uncertainly as you stepped forward.

You grabbed a paint brush off a nearby table, its weight feeling foreign in your hand. Next, you picked up a palette and a few tubes of acrylic paint. You squeezed out dabs of paint - vibrant reds, deep blues, and sunny yellows onto the palette. Slowly, you began to swirl them together with the brush, watching as they transformed into new hues – emerald greens and sunset oranges.

With a tentative stroke, you pressed the brush against the canvas, the bristles gliding smoothly across the surface. Each movement felt clumsy at first, but as you gained confidence, your strokes became more fluid and expressive. You layered colors, allowing them to blend and bleed into one another.

“Beautiful,” Lady Dimitrescu murmured, her gaze fixed on you as you worked. “You already have a natural sense of color. I can see the potential.”

Encouraged by her words, you started to create bold strokes, blending hues and allowing your emotions to flow onto the canvas. For the first time, you felt a sense of freedom.

Not long thereafter, you set the palette aside and stepped back to assess your work. Before you flowed a waterfall that tumbled down a rugged mountainside while the surrounding landscape was filled with lush green trees and rocky outcrops. While the colors weren't as smooth as you had hoped, and some areas lacked refined detail, the painting held a certain charm. It wasn't bad for your first attempt at painting.

“It’s remarkable, dear.” Lady Dimitrescu said, stepping closer to admire your work.

You blushed at her praise. “Thank you, my Lady. I didn’t know I could do something like this.”

“And that’s the beauty of discovering oneself. We often underestimate our own potential,” she stated matter of fact. “Now, I'd like to show you a technique that is helpful for beginners. It's called dry brushing. I'll demonstrate on a blank canvas so that you can observe closely.”

She reached over your head and picked up the palette you had just used. As she did so, the board ended up tilting slightly and some of the remaining paint dripped off the edge, landing on your vest. The sudden sensation of cold, wet paint soaking through the cloth made you flinch back.

“Oh my,” Lady Dimitrescu said in surprise, though there was a small, knowing smile on her lips, as if she found the situation both charming and entertaining. “I do apologize, darling. It seems I’ve turned you into a canvas of sorts.”

You lifted the bottom of your vest in a futile attempt to keep the paint from running further down the fabric. Her gaze followed your movements, and she reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against the paint-stained spot.

She let out a soft sigh. “Go wipe the excess paint off, pet, and leave the vest in the laundry basket. Return here once you’ve finished.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Your voice came out more awkwardly than you intended.

You turned to leave but not before your eyes were drawn back to the portrait of yourself. The uncanny precision of the details, the intensity of the gaze staring back at you. It unsettled you in a way you couldn't quite explain.

As you finally exited the room, you couldn’t help but wonder why Lady Dimitrescu had chosen this moment to show you the atelier. To show the painting of you.

What was her intention?

As you made your way to the Lady’s bedchambers, you paused, glancing down the hallway where her daughters' bedchambers were. The corridor stretched out before you, silent and shadowed. Nobody was around. The note in your pocket burned, reminding you of the main house key that was supposedly in Bela’s bedroom.

Your heart began to race as you debated snooping around in her bedroom. You didn't know where the Lady's daughters were, and the thought of running into one of them made your palms sweaty. Bela was known for her strict adherence to her duties, often seen patrolling the castle and overseeing the staff. Cassandra spent most of her time in either the armory or the cellar. And Daniela typically lingered in the library, absorbed in her books. You prayed that today they would follow their usual routines.

This might be your only chance to search for the key. It was a risk you had to take.

You pivoted on your heel and made your way down the hallway. The silence was almost deafening, each of your footsteps echoing against the carpeted floor. After a few more steps, you came upon Bela’s bedroom door. A small red gem rested in the center, which gleamed in the low light like a drop of blood. It matched the one on her necklace that she always wore.

You looked both ways one more time.

Nothing.

The hallway was empty. You slowly opened the door, the hinges creaking slightly, and slipped inside. The door clicked shut behind you. Bela’s bedroom was tidy and dark, the only light coming from a few scattered candles and the low flickering embers from the fireplace. Near the back was a large bed, pushed against the furthest wall, its canopy draped with rich, heavy curtains. A nightstand stood next to the bed, a single candle flickering on its surface. To the right was the fireplace and next to it was a desk, neatly arranged with papers and books, presumably placed there to keep Bela warm as she worked. On the left side of the bedroom was the vanity.

Where could the key be?

Logically, it would make sense to check her desk first. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you approached the desk, your fingers shaking slightly as you reached for the first drawer. It slid open, revealing a stack of neatly organized documents. You began to rifle through them, the papers rustling underneath your touch. Letters, schedules, and reports passed through your hands, but unfortunately, the key wasn’t there. You looked on top of her desk and moved some folders and books around, hoping the key might be hidden in plain sight, but it yielded nothing as well.

You walked over to her vanity and opened each drawer as well. Bottles clinked together, brushes rolled aside, but there was still no sign of the main house key.

A cold sweat broke out on your forehead and your hands began to feel clammy. You wiped them on your pants, feeling the fabric cling to your palms.

You needed to hurry.

You turned around and walked over to the nightstand. You opened the top drawer and moved some papers and personal objects aside. Your fingers brushed against the edges of journals, loose sheets of parchment, and small trinkets as you sifted through the contents.

Then, your eyes widened.

The key.

It lay nestled beneath a stack of old letters. For a moment, you simply stared at it, hardly daring to believe your luck. Then, with a swift motion, you quickly grabbed it and stuffed it in your pocket. You made sure to close the drawer before you made your way to the door. You cautiously opened it and peeked your head out. The hallway beyond was dim and deserted. Your breath came a little easier as you stepped out. You closed the door quietly, the latch clicking into place with a soft sound that seemed louder than it was.

You couldn’t believe it. You had the key!

Your heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. This was your chance to escape, to reclaim your life from Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters.

You picked up the pace as you made your way down the hallway, heart pounding violently inside of your chest. Before you could turn the corner, Catalina's face flashed across your mind for a split second, halting your steps mid-stride. The image of her warm smile and kind eyes filled your thoughts, bringing an unexpected pang of guilt. You wanted to say goodbye to her, to thank her for the help she provided in this nightmare. The thought of leaving Catalina without saying a word felt wrong, but you knew that time was not on your side. In the end, she would understand. She would want you to leave.

As you stood there, lost in thought, a distant scream sliced through the air, chilling your blood. It was followed by an eerie giggle. Possibly Daniela by the sound of it.

You knew you couldn't linger any longer.

You had to leave.

Now.

As you descended the staircase, you caught sight of a maid, her back turned to you as she dusted one of the heavy-looking vases. You hesitated for a moment. You couldn’t take the risk of her spotting you; if she did, it would surely spell disaster for both of you. She would have no choice but to alert Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters if she didn’t want to lose her life. Plus, you didn’t want to think about what the Lady would to do you if you did end up getting caught.

You continued down the steps slowly, your heart racing as you maneuvered through the foyer. You stayed close to the shadows, glancing nervously at doorways and corners, half-expecting one of the Lady’s daughters to pop out at any moment.

Finally, you reached the main door.

Your heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it might burst from your chest. You pulled the key from your pocket and inserted it into the slot with trembling hands, praying that it wouldn't make too much noise. The mechanism clicked, and you held your breath, waiting for any sign that you had been detected. You strained to listen, your senses on high alert, but the castle remained fairly silent. You pushed the door open with ease, and a rush of cool, fresh air hit your face. The sensation was almost overwhelming. You stepped out and shut the door behind you as quietly as you could. The final barrier between you and the horrors of Castle Dimitrescu was sealed away with a soft thud.

You let out a ragged breath, feeling the oppressive weight lift off your shoulders. The tension that had coiled tightly within you began to unwind, like a spring slowly being released. You could almost sob in relief, the overwhelming urge to break down right there nearly consuming you. But you knew that there was no time for that. You still needed to get away from here, to put as much distance between yourself and the castle as much as possible. Turning away from the main door, you sprinted across the courtyard, adrenaline overriding the lingering effects of the drug. Your breath came out in short, rapid bursts, your lungs burning with the effort, but you didn't slow down. You had to get away, you had to reach safety.

The chill in the air was sharp, nipping at your exposed skin and seeping through your clothing. It pierced through your layers, making every breath feel crisp and biting, but it was a minor inconvenience compared to what you had endured recently. Snow covered the landscape, its pristine blanket stretching as far as the eye could see, making each step a struggle. Yet, the sun's warm rays managed to break through the overcast sky, melting some patches away and revealing damp, slushy areas that squished underfoot. It reminded you that even in the harshest of winters, warmth could still break through.

Eventually, the winding path ahead twisted through dense woods, shrouded in shadows and thick underbrush that seemed to close in around you. A sense of trepidation settled in your chest, memories of local tales about the woods resurfacing in your mind. You had heard of Lycans roaming the outskirts of the forest, their howls often echoing in the distance during the night. Yet, for some reason, they mainly avoided the villages. It was as if an unseen force forbade them from coming too close, a mysterious boundary they dared not to cross. Regardless, it didn’t ease your fears.

As you pushed forward, several branches scratched at your arms and face, their jagged edges catching on to your clothing and drawing minor scrapes that stung in the cold air. But you hardly noticed the pain; your focus was fixed on the path ahead, each step taking you closer to home.

You couldn’t wait to be reunited with your parents again.

[starlost97]

— stupid mistake.

summary: Oscar was destined to lose when he made a bet that he would win the No Nut November.

tags: fluff?, a bit sexual, No Nut November, f!reader.

characters: Oscar Piastri.

warnings: a bit sexual.

a/n: honestly there's still a chance that he actually won if he did the bet with Lando, because he's never beating the puta allegations.

word count: 266.

requested?: yes! by a friend.

Oscar was definitely overconfident about himself, because he truly believed that he would be able to win the No Nut November bet that he made with his friends.

Sure, with your sex drive not really being that high it was easier, but by the second week, you started missing your boyfriend, and in that moment, Oscar was destined to lose.

It all started with small things: wearing a shirt without a bra, bending down in front of him, asking his opinion in tight new dresses that you had bought.

At first, Oscar thought that it was just the universe messing with him, but slowly, he finally noticed it was actually you, the love of his life, tempting him into losing the dumbest bet he had ever been a part of.

He damned himself for being so proud, so full of himself that he for a second believed that he wasn’t completely addicted to being drunk in you. Completely devoted to drowning himself in the beautiful ocean of your features, of your curves, of your sweet lips.

And when you revealed those oceans to him by “accidentally” dropping your towel, he couldn’t take it anymore. He was a hopeless addicted man and you had offered him his drug.

His hands were soon on your waist, pushing you against the wall as his lips tasted your neck. The scent of your perfume entering his nose only tempting him further to lose himself in you.

“What about the bet, Oscar?” You mumbled, smiling.

“My biggest mistake, darling. A stupid mistake that I can assure you that won’t happen again.”

[pupyuj]

[cw: dubcon, manipulation, age gap (legal ofc?!), mommy kink, dacryphilia, bondage]

here i am again with another wony thought of mine 😭 i’ve been seeing a lot of wony asks from you guys so here’s something a lil extra on top of me working on the wony stuff ya’ll have been sending/have sent before :] this is a very specific scenario i hope you guys don’t mind LMAO

wony’s never beating the mommy’s girl allegations i fear!

ehehe heiress!wony with you as her mentor figure :(( you’re one of her rich grandfather’s closest associates and since the man’s company was going to get hand over to her soon, it only made sense for the old man to put someone closer to her age as her mentor 😚 but you were still way older, way more mature—and not only was your position intimidating but also the way you carried yourself inside your job and also outside of it simply made you irresistible to wonyoung… so irresistible that she doesn’t say anything when one day, you put your hand on her thigh while you were teaching her your ‘ways’… and it all starts from there really 😋

she would literally do anything for you once everything was said and done and you’ve got her wrapped around your fingers :(( don’t wear anything underneath her little skirt for easy access? yes, mommy. wear whatever outfit you want her to wear for that day? yes, mommy. carry a vibrator inside her cunt and keep up the ‘good girl’ act no matter how good or bad it feels? yes, mommy. talk properly on the phone while you’re pleasuring her sensitive little clit? yes, mommy.

ah, speaking of “mommy”… it’s like she doesn’t even know your name anymore! pretty thing learned fast… you were fucking her on her bed one day—her laptop and all her paperwork pushed aside haphazardly—and she saw how a sick smile formed on your face when she let “mommy” slip out and ever since then it’s all she called you bcs you loved it… what a good girl 🥺 and wony knows better than to speak long conversations with you in public bcs if a single person in the company even hears her say “mommy” there were going to be a lot of questions… and she knows you had enough on your plate! also loves quickies in a bathroom or a small meeting room bcs she just repeatedly whispers “mommy, mommy!” in your ear and you fuck her so much better each time…

oh you’d just love pushing wony to tears, either by edging her or overstimming her… binding her hands with cuffs or some pretty silk restraints above her head and watching her struggle and cry while you fucked her from behind :(( baby’s big on begging… shaking her head profusely when she thinks she’s had enough, “no! nonono, please, mommy…!” and really, you should feel bad for treating her like a whore but it was her fault! she embarrassed you by failing to impress some colleagues of yours… this was her punishment and she has no choice but to accept it :(( “please, mommy, i’ll be good..! i’ll be a good girl, just—ah!—stop, please…” she’s so desperate since she already came so much but :(( she looks so pretty crying! with her little pout and the tears that fell like a waterfall whenever she squeezed her eyes shut and sobbed… how could you not fuck her the entire night??

you still treat her like royalty, however… she is jang wonyoung after all—it’s what she deserves! singing praises in her ear when you noticed how well she was handling all her work as the soon-to-be president of her grandpa’s company, making sure that she’s all comfortable on your lap while she’s working and pleasuring her gently to ease all her pressure… her reward for doing so well after a long day of work? well, a warm bath and some good ass shower sex ofc! 🫣🫣 only giving wony kisses and a little tease by softly massaging her pretty tits but then as soon as you get to the shower, she’s all marked up and she’s screaming “mommy!” (again) while you fuck her so good against the wall…

now neither of you would even bother getting dressed during nights like those! sitting on wony’s bed with her in between your legs while a movie played on the ridiculously huge tv she had in her room… not like you were paying attention anyway. you’d be peppering wony’s neck with kisses while she giggles.. but as soon as one of your hands sneak in between her legs, wony knows it was going to be another long night with her favourite mommy 🫣💓