#(I stayed surprisingly on-model for this one..!)

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

It Takes Two to Tango !

A day amidst the pool of chaos, thankfully, with no new threat rising on the horizon. Coming back to Korea after a long time, you were finally able to execute the long-awaited plan.

You thought it would be a great day to just relax and unwind since everything was taken care of. Incheon might still be a pain in the ass, but soon it would follow the same story as Busan, so you weren’t too worried.

Surprisingly, you and Kitae decided to go out and see what Seoul had to offer. You had a bunch of recommendations from people here and there, but nothing ever beats what truly fits your taste. And when you spotted a dimly lit bar tucked away in the narrow streets of Gangdong, your excitement kicked in, you urged him this place would be just right.

The drinks were served, the food was decent, and the environment was your kind of vibe. The lighting was low and warm, the music just the way you liked it, and the night air outside set the mood perfectly.

Kitae wasn’t the kind of man to show open affection, nor was he one to call outings like this a “date night”—he’d much rather phrase it more vaguely. So when you asked him to take your hand and dance, he just scoffed, lingering by the bar and sipping his drink.

You pouted but let him be, deciding to go ahead and enjoy yourself.

It wasn’t quite like dancing back home, but the energy was there. Once you joined the floor, the room’s infectious vibe started to wrap around you, and you couldn't help but let go and move with it.

What was pure fun for you was a growing irritation for someone else. Kitae, watching from the side, noticed the way other guys were circling, some brushing fingers against you, others trying to get closer under the pretense of dancing. Hungry hyenas. And as much as he wanted to pull out his axe and be done with it, he didn't want to ruin your night.

So instead, he stepped in and handled it his way. His hands snaked around your waist and firmly took hold, turning you toward him. You giggled.

“Finally showed up, huh? Thought someone was shy.” you said.

He pulled you closer, sending a glare across the room. “Friends, let’s not kill the night,” he muttered loud enough for the leeches to hear. The unwelcome men quickly dispersed, obviously intimidated by the height and the power radiating from him. The girls, on the other hand, were now very obviously fawning over how damn good he looked.

You ran your fingers through his arms with a smirk. “The only one killing the mood is you. Do you even know how to dance?”

He didn’t answer. He just took the lead.

As the music shifted, so did the energy in the room. The atmosphere bent into something different, messier, rougher. His movements weren’t graceful, but they were surprisingly in rhythm with the song. His grip stayed firm on your waist, his hands, usually meant for unleashing chaos, now guiding you through the music as he spun you.

And when the song slowed and you both stood still, catching your breath, you laughed and nudged his shoulder with your elbow. “You should become a dancer. Or a model. Idol, maybe?”

Disgust etched across his face. His hand settled at the small of your back as he muttered, “This is the first and last time.”

“Nope. I want more,” you said plainly, holding onto his arm. “There’ll be more.”

He pulled you even closer, forehead resting against yours, his hot breath fanning your face. Then he spoke, without hesitation, no trace of fear, just certainty.

“Next time I see someone get that close to you… it’ll end very differently. Very conveniently.”

And with that, he tilted your chin up and kissed you, hungry, possessive, consuming.

You smiled into it, matching his intensity, your hands tugging at his hair. You knew there were many more moments to come, whether in chaotic dances, detached limbs, or shared hunts under the city sky.

[dr-wormman]

Someone get this man out of the military so he can wear something cuter than that damned uniform

[nicksolemnlyswears]

COMFORT ME, STAY WITH ME

pairing: aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader

word count: ~1.6k

warnings: spoilers for s2e2 of HoTD, mentions of murder and death of a child, surprisingly i thinks there isn't any cursing or smut, maybe next time ;) just good old sad aegon

a/n: this is my first time ever writing for HoTD or GoT for that matter. please be kind to me. i tried to use appropriate wording for the time period. i'm somewhat successful but i have work ahead of me to become a pro.

i felt so enraged when alicent walked out on her grieving son to go fuck around with cole. what the fuck is your problem? i always gave her the benefit of the doubt but this episode just proves what a terrible mother she is. i figured the only person fit to comfort my baby boy aegon is someone raised by rhaenyras gentle heart.

lowkey want to make a throuple out of reader, aegon, and helaena. readers gonna be a little psychologist lol. she'd hold their hands and force them to kumbaya haha but obviously they'd be like this cant work without you. maybe they'll follow aegon the conqueror and have her as a second wife but idk would anyone be interested in that? i'm rambling. enjoy!

Helaena’s Turn

STAY WITH US

The cold stone of the Red Keep kept you company as you strode through its halls. The breeze of the night offered you comfort and aided your mind to forget the terrible events that have plagued the Keep.

And yet, despite your energies being depleted, you can't seem to find rest. Loss weighs you down and spirals you into a depth of overbearing thoughts, making sleep a mere idea.

The Red Keep, the place you once called home, has become your prison. For weeks, you were not allowed out of your chambers, and for a short time afterward, a guard followed you wherever you went.

It has all changed, though. The death of the King's son has diverted all of the guard's forces to find the culprit. The priority is to search for the monster that gruesomely and cruelly decapitated a child while he slept rather than to watch over a harmless Princess who is simply not on their side.

As a result, you're now free to roam the castle, granted there are eyes all around. You wouldn't be able to step foot outside the castle if you tried, and any suspicious activity would immediately be reported to the Hand of the King.

For an unknown reason, your feet guide you to the King's chambers, where indiscernible, muffled sounds come from. You look around and find that the guard meant to protect the King is absent. It's worrisome. You stand in the middle of the stone hallway, your hands clasped, as you make a decision.

While your loyalty lies with the Blacks, you cannot stand and watch more of your family be killed, including the Usurper. Daemon has always been 'kind' in mentioning that your gentle heart will cause your death. You'd argue it's an honorable way to go.

You slip through the ajar door quietly, getting closer to the sound. There is destruction across the room. The Old Valyria model your grandfather worked on for most of his life is scattered on the floor, beyond salvation. Goblets and spilled wine, thrown in a fit of rage, decorate the walls.

It is only when a sharp gasp and a shuddering breath echo around the room that you recognize the sounds you heard outside. They are cries.

You release a breath of relief. No one is in danger, although it does not signify someone is not hurting. You peak further into the room and debate on your next course of action. If the mess inside the chambers and the lack of guards mean anything, it's that the King would like to be alone.

But you know Aegon. You grew up with him. He's not one to reach out for help until it's too late. You make a haste decision. Aegon will not grieve alone tonight.

You know what that's like. Your brother, Lucerys, was murdered not too long ago, and you had no choice but to mourn alone. The Hand of the King locked you in your chambers, afraid your temper would lead you to do something drastic. It's the most horrid thing you've ever endured.

How you wished for Rhaenyra, or anyone for that matter, to hold you while you cried. A maid would've sufficed, but no one was allowed entry into your chambers.

Aegon sits by the fireplace, his head hung low, as he cries for his dead son. It might not have looked like it, but Aegon deeply cared for the boy. He wished to be better than his father ever was, and he was succeeding.

Until two days ago.

You've witnessed firsthand the blanket of sorrow that has covered the Red Keep, spent many hours by Haelena's side, offering her your shoulder, and never realized the King would need the same.

Why is Aegon alone? He should not have to go through this by himself. You expected he would have surrounded himself with his men and countless bottles of wine or sought refuge in Helaena's arms since they shared the same grief.

A heartbreaking cry snaps you out of your thoughts—his whole body trembles from loss. Aegon gasps for air to aid his burning lungs, yet he can't control the tears that track down his cheeks and the raking breaths that course through his body and limit his breathing.

He does not know what to make of himself. His fingers shake as he fumbles with the ring on his finger—the one with the dragon crest. Aegon doesn't know what to make of himself. He's never endured this sort of loss.

His sobs are the ones of a man who lost a part of himself. Jaehaerys, his legacy, has gone too soon. Aegon spent time with the boy the morning before his death, doting on him like Viserys never did to him.

He's so lost in his grief that Aegon doesn't hear when you stumble upon a piece of cast from the model. Being careful with your steps, you reach Aegon's side and place a hand on his shoulder.

Alarmed, he turns to face the person who disturbs him, only to find you—you who have been keeping the Hightower siblings together despite belonging to the other side.

"Leave me be," he sniffs, staring back into the fire. He wonders if that's how his son's pyre looked earlier that day.

You kneel on the floor, settling between his legs to cup his cheeks in your palms. Wide, glossy lilac eyes stare back as they fill with more tears.

As his tears fall, you wipe them away. It's enough to make Aegon crumble in your arms, releasing louder cries and questions that will forever remain unanswered.

It's so easy to let go when you know someone is there to catch you.

Aegon fists your dress like a child would to its mother. You rub his back soothingly, holding him as tightly as you're able. You press a kiss to the side of his head, whispering calming words.

Aegon never wanted to be king, yet the moment he tries to fulfill his duty the moment he tries to be a proper king, he is rewarded by his son being brutally taken from him.

It's not a fair world. The Gods have never been kind to him, and he's afraid he'll only ever live a life of torment.

Now, more than ever, he doesn't want to be King. It is a mere reminder of how heavy the crown truly is. It's a shackle meant to keep him in place while others act upon his name while he pays for the consequences.

"Jaehaerys was a bright soul. I am sorry this has happened. You should've never had to experience this pain," you whisper in his ear. No parent should experience the death of their child. It is a sad reality the Targaryens have experienced all too well.

Aegon nods in agreement, and only when he's calm enough to speak does he tear himself away from your embrace. He instantly misses your warmth and the smell of roses in your hair.

"Why are you comforting me when you should be celebrating my demise?" His waterline is stained red, just like the tip of his nose, and he's never looked more innocent than in that moment.

You tilt your head sadly, that same emotion reflected in your eyes. "I do not celebrate the loss of innocents, especially one that has gone too soon. I also do not particularly like the notion of someone I hold dear grieving alone."

"You did," he sniffs. He remembers hearing your cries that night; the whole Red Keep could. You cried and screamed the entire night until you fell asleep from exhaustion and starvation.

Otto prohibited them from coming to you. Haelena tried, but he dismissed the idea with the false notion that you'd hurt her in your grief. Otto confuses you with your parentage. Unlike them, you're kind and gentle and wouldn't dare hurt anyone.

"Which is how I know I would never wish it upon my worst enemy." You brush your fingers through his blonde hair, tucking the messy strands behind his ears.

"Is that what I am to you? An enemy?" He asks, disgruntled.

"No," you answer immediately, your hands coming down to rest upon his chest. His breathing has calmed since you first saw him. "At least, not yet."

His lilac eyes bore into hers in search of the truth; shyly, you hold onto his gaze with nothing to hide except your intentions to help. Sighing, he closes his eyes and bumps his forehead against yours. Aegon will take what he can get. There's seemingly no one else to help him deal with his emotions.

"Stay," he pleads, holding onto the hand that's placed on his chest. This is the most at peace he's felt in a while. He wishes to savor it for a moment longer.

"For as long as you need, my King," you reply, closing your eyes.

"Aegon," he says. He refuses to be reminded of what lies outside his bed chambers. For just a moment, he wishes to simply be Aegon.

"Aegon," you respond, correcting yourself. He squeezes your hand appreciatively, tucking your head on his neck.

He keeps you in his arms until late hours in the night, recounting memories he shared with Jaehaerys. The pain is real and raw, and he won't be well for a long time, but for this night, Aegon will seek solace in your embrace, where he knows he won't be judged or be seen as a burden.

In your arms, he's not Aegon' the Magnanimous.' He's not seen as careless or reckless or the lesser child of Alicent Hightower.

He's Aegon.

helaena’s part has been posted! HELAENA’S TURN

Final part! STAY WITH US

that’s it! it’s sweet and short. i just wanted to have someone comfort aegon like he deserves. during that scene i wished i could jump into t he screen and hug him. it’s all so tragic.

i wish i could do the same with haelena. my girl needs to be coddled. fuck alicent. fuck otto. most importantly fuck criston cole.

if you enjoyed this one shot please don’t forget to like or comment and if you want more of it feel free to let me know! i don’t bite (unless you want me to)!

[okwonyo]

ROLE MODEL ❞ PSH ！

g fluff bsf2l ੭୧ kissing 1100 ─── hi @hoonquette library

“i can teach you.” sunghoon’s voice is well heard, despise the sound of the drama playing on the television. even if you want to act as if you didn’t hear him, it’s well too late— you wipe your head towards his direction as soon as he talks.

you stay in flabbergast for a moment. mouth agape, eyes wide, you stare at your best friend sitting on the opposite corner of the couch. it’s quite comedic, how his eyes haven’t left the screen while you are staring at him in shameless surprise.

you try to formulate a proper answer, you fail miserably. instead, you huff in pure disbelief. sunghoon, for his part, seems pretty chill about what he just said. you follow the direction of his gaze to see the two main leads of the romantic drama you forced him to watch doing what he assured he could teach you:

“kissing?” is all you can manage to say. contrary to you, he seems nonchalant about it. when he finally stops staring at the television to stare at you instead, his humourless look makes you nervous, for some reason.

“you never kissed anyone, right?”

“i never said that,” you make sure to accentuate on the ‘never’. it’s true, though. and sunghoon could tell by the way you were staring at the television a few seconds prior.

“but i know it,” he sighs as if he was keeping track of the people you have ever kissed. not that it would surprise you if he did. something about the look on his face tells you that he feels like it is his mission and that here, in this specific situation, he is your knight in shining armor. “so, i will teach you.”

when did ‘i can’ turn into ‘i will’ is what you should ask. why do you want to teach me so bad? as well. however, all you can think about right now is your handsome best friend, who is at an arm’s length distance away from you, telling you that he is going to teach you how to kiss.

even if you did know how to kiss already, which is embarrassingly not the case, you wouldn’t refuse to find out what kissing sunghoon feels like. “okay.”

sunghoon’s eyebrows shoot up, as if he is not the one who offered his help in the first place. he is surprised, perhaps. there is a slight grin on his lips. he is pleased, definitively.

“nice,” his tone surprisingly enthusiastic, as well as the smile he arbors and that you can’t keep yourself from mirroring. he scoots a little bit closer than he was before. his gentle features are too pretty for you to not stare, and he has to talk for you to react: “come here.”

you listen to him without thinking much, purely out of instinct. you move closer to his circle of warmth. so much, that his shoulder brushes over yours at some point, until your arm is downright pressed against his. he doesn’t move, only stares at you when you are done. the more he does so, the wider your smile gets. you feel like a teenage girl talking to her crush when you ask, “what?”

the fondness shining in his iris gets worse, translating something you can’t quite describe. it slowly shows something more, and before you can wrap your head around it, he looks at his laps. “i’d rather have you there,” is what you get.

“wha—! why?”

he shrugs, “better angle.”

you could scream right now, but you don’t. the blush slowly rising to your cheeks is already embarrassing enough. your eyes don’t meet his during the embarrassing amount of seconds it takes you to climb on top of him. the ceiling, the door at your right, the window at your left seems weirdly interesting at this exact moment.

“are you nervous?” your knees digs into the sofa, his hands are burning hot on your hips although there is clothes between your skin and his. you don’t give him any answer if it’s not the privilege of laying your pretty eyes on his face.

looking down you realise how close you are to each other. his sombre gaze lingers on your lips, making you even more nervous than you already were. sunghoon leans in and whispers, close enough that his breath rests on your lips, “don’t be, i’ll be nice.”

his mouth is warm against your own. although, he starts with a quick peck, leaving you barely anytime to reciprocate, your heart skips a beat. it’s nothing, however it makes your eyes flutter open when he pulls away and you feel hot when you see him staring up at you. he looks beyond ethereal from this angle— sitting there while you contemplate his face, sitting on his laps, the closest you have ever been.

weirdly, you only realise how starstruck you look when he smirks. then he kisses you again, his hand cradles on your back for a much more exploring kiss. it’s hard to follow his movement, to keep up with his rhythm, especially when he hums into your mouth like that.

his hand cups the back of your head, his fingers run in your hair as he bites your lower lip ever so gently. with his other hand on your back, sunghoon pulls you closer to him. warmth blossoms in your chest, his tongue slipping in whereupon you part your lips.

you grip in his shirt, fearing that you might crumble if you don’t. it shows, how experienced he is about that. in the way his soft, almost silken lips move against your own. in the way his tongue explores your mouth with such care and lust. electricity runs down your spine when his thumb caresses the back of your neck before resting on your cheek.

sunghoon straightens up a little, to kiss you even better. your heartbeat rises as the kiss goes on. you feel your soul going somewhere else when he tilts his head to the side. the sounds of your lips together dies under the sound of the television playing behind your back. you miss the taste of the strawberries he ate a few minutes prior when he pulls away.

he doesn’t go very far. just a few inches away from your lips when he asks, breathing heavily and lips red, “are you sure it’s your first time?” you nod, swallowing hard to make your chest heave less, “i think you should only kiss me from now on.”

taglist open rbs ˊᯅˋ feedbacks please ! daily

[maxivstappen]

THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

[pretzelwrites]

THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION .

summary: after being apart from caleb for months, you and tara visit skyhaven for the summer solstice festival. he has… concerns about how you spent your time apart.

warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), dubcon/noncon, caleb is very controlling and a little mean in this, pet names (pipsqueak, silly girl, and 1 singular ‘gege’), fingering, virginity testing, smut with plot, lowkey badafabanatomy101, extreme jealousy, inappropriate use of evol, pre-confession caleb & mc, manhandling, orgasm denial if you squint. 

characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader, and tara. everyone is in their twenties.

wc: 2.9k

author’s note: soooo this is my first fic in like ten years… i hope you all like it! i took creative liberties for dramatic effect (i.e. mc’s grandma gifting caleb her antique dining table pre-explosion.) also, this was originally written in present tense before i switched it to past tense so if you notice any typos or grammatical errors…. that’s why rip. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!

* link to part two.  

visiting caleb happened less and less often. between your work with the hunter’s association, and his work as a colonel for the fleet, there was not much room in either of your schedules to meet up. that’s why whenever you had a few days of freedom, the two of you made sure to make the best of it. this time, luck was on your side. not only did you manage to get three days off of work because a big case you were working on concluded a month earlier than expected, but it also coincided with the summer solstice festival in skyhaven— and caleb said he would be free for most of your visit. what were the odds?

being freed up from the case meant tara could tag along with you, and you immediately invited her after asking caleb. he agreed to allow this with only one condition: she could not sleepover. it was a surprisingly rude request from the typically friendly and accommodating caleb, plus it was extremely inconvenient for tara. afterall, it was the only summer festival in skyhaven. most hotels would be booked up by now, and what was leftover would probably be low quality or expensive.

and your efforts to persuade him?

“i’m not changing my mind, pipsqueak.” he said dismissively although his tone was still cheerful. his rich violet eyes remained fixated on the new model plane he was assembling while he spoke into the phone, “this home is open to family, and family only.” even if you two weren’t technically family, you understood exactly what that meant— and no amount of pleading or batting your lashes would sway him. so, you begrudgingly told tara she’d have to find a place to crash for the entire trip. your friend, always the optimist, took it in stride and even seemed to enjoy flipping through the listings of premium hotels in the city.

“ooh! Y/N, look at this one! it’s got one of those infinity pools on the roof!” she’d exclaim while shoving her phone towards you over your desk of files. a holographic 3D model of the swanky hotel popped up from her screen. it was sleek and clean, mirroring the aesthetic that decorated most of skyhaven. you smiled and nodded in an attempt to feign the same level of excitement as her, but you found it hard to. 

for some reason, there was a growing sense of dread in the center of your chest. 

two days passed by quickly, with most of the time being spent trotting through the festival with tara and caleb— then finishing the night off at the bar with tara. caleb would say he couldn’t stay long, that he had something to tend to early in the morning, but that meant you two could enjoy yourselves without him. things were going smoothly… perhaps your worries were truly irrational afterall?

the first night, you and tara had gone a little overboard and were too drunk to end up anywhere other than the hard couch in her hotel room. the second night, you were invited out to dinner by tara’s favorite artist from the festival, you couldn’t possibly say no to her desperate pleas to tag along. that meant you had to cancel dinner with caleb twice, but you swore you’d make it up to him later. 

on the third day, you all decided to conclude your last festival visit with something sweet. the local shops were selling all sorts of solstice themed foods, and this particular parlor had brightly colored frozen yogurt with the cutest sun-shaped cookie bites topped off with iridescent sprinkles. you and tara couldn’t bare to pass it up, even though caleb seemed worn out by the constant activities. 

as you stood in line to order, he leaned down to whisper at a level only you could hear, “don’t spoil your appetite, pipsqueak.”  

that sounded like a threat.

you found a small table beside the window, and the three of you settled in. you sat beside tara, and caleb took the seat across from you. right away, the table was loud with lively conversation and laughter between bites of creamy sweetness. you all exchanged jokes and tidbits seamlessly, there was barely a second to breathe between the chatting. considering both tara and caleb were social butterflies, it was no surprise they got along well. 

somehow, the flow of conversation brought you to discuss each other's silly childhood habits. tara laughed at the way you’d steal his t-shirts from the dirty laundry to mop up any spilled juice and coffee, and caleb brought up how he would send you at least ten check-in texts every time you’d go out with your friends when you were teens.

tara’s eyes lit up and she nudged her knee against yours under the table. “oh, just like that guy leonardo! there must be something about you that brings out protectiveness from guys.” she turned to face caleb, “it makes sense that you’d do that since you two are close, but i told Y/N before that it would be so weird if leonardo wasn’t cute!” 

it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. even though you and leo were just friends, his feelings for you were hard to ignore, and you had gone on a few dates with him. you had told tara plenty of times that your ‘gege’ was protective, and wouldn’t be fond of the idea of you casually dating someone he’d never met. regardless of how old you both were, caleb was unable to shake this role. you blinked at tara, a silent plea for her to stop— be quiet, take it back, anything other than continue talking. 

she immediately caught on to the pleading look in your eye and attempted to backpedal. “i- i mean, not that it’s- hah- he’s not anything serious, of course. h-he’s a good coworker, is my point.” she laughed nervously, and you joined her in it. the conversation at the table carries on to a new topic, thankfully, and for a moment you thought you were in the clear… until you looked over to caleb. 

it was something only you, someone who had nearly a lifetime of experiencing caleb’s personality, would be able to detect. as he listened to tara’s ramblings about the exhibit of her favorite artist at the festival, the same one you two had drinks with prior, you immediately notice the way his smile fails to reach his eyes. in fact, his typically vibrant gaze seemed to have lost every fleck of color it had. he was merely going through the motions to keep up appearances.

the feeling of dread you had managed to shake off earlier returned tenfold, and the colorful dessert in your bowl suddenly became incredibly unappetizing. it melted into a puddle of sugary goop and soggy bits of shortbread as the sun disappeared under the horizon.

it was tara who first announced she would be turning in for the night. your heart fell further from your chest when you realized that meant being alone with caleb for the aforementioned dinner you promised him, and absolutely could not back out on. dinners with caleb were always a treat, but this time…

“it was good to see you, tara.” caleb’s smooth voice interrupted your train of thought. tara smiled widely and nodded, “it was nice to see you, too! you two have a goodnight!” she turned on her heels to walk in the opposite direction towards her hotel, while you and caleb headed back to his place. 

the trip back was full of what could only be described as bizarre small talk; retreading old ground, repeating details you’d already told him over the phone months ago, and answering questions that felt pointless to you. you wanted to shrug it off, to reason that surely the man you’d known nearly your entire life didn’t deserve to be treated so suspiciously, but this wasn’t meaningless small talk. he was fishing for information, attempting to piece together just what you were up to during your time apart. when the realization dawned on you, you suddenly became concerned about how every detail would be interpreted, and your responses shortened to a handful of words at most. 

you stepped inside of the familiarity of caleb’s home, letting out a satisfied sigh when the scent of him enveloped you like a warm blanket. “mmm, it’s always nice to come back to—” your words are cut off with a loud ‘click’, the sound of the door being locked behind you. 

“i already have dinner from last night prepared in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up.” caleb muttered while pulling off his heavy bomber jacket to toss onto the couch. the fact that this was likely the dinner you two were supposed to have the night before felt like yet another bad omen. “i- uh, great! i-i’ll set the table.” it was a habit you had picked up on in your youth. a dining table full of plates, even if empty, made you feel like your family was bigger than the one you’d found. you swallow down your anxiety and quickly trot to the kitchen, walking past the old table that used to be your grandmother’s. 

when you return, arms heavy with a stack of porcelain, caleb is standing by the table with his hands planted firmly on his hips. furrowed brows and underneath that, eyes downcast and unfocused. he appeared to be locked in deep thought.

“cal—?” 

“put the plates down and come here.” 

his tone was authoritative and flat—  the same tone he used when you were caught in a lie all those years ago. that persistent dread fully consumes you as you carefully place the stack of fragile plates onto the table and walk to his side. you looked to him expectantly, fists tightly squeezed shut, waiting to get scolded for your flakiness during the trip. in a flash, he pulled you flush against his body by your wrists, wedging you between his large build and the table. “a-ah! c-caleb, what the-”

“do you have any idea how fuckin’ rude you’ve been? how much restraint i’ve had to use lately?” his bionic arm, with all of its unnatural strength, takes control of your throat and holds your back firmly against his body. your frantic wiggling only makes the feeling worse, the metal causing red patches of friction on your throat. you have no choice but to stay still.

detecting your reluctant submission, he chuckled in bitter amusement. “ah, so pips hasn’t completely lost her mind…” caleb whispered, his warm breath skating down the side of your face. “cooperate and this will be over quickly.”  his human hand snaked under the hem of your dress, traveling up your skin and leaving a trail of heat in it’s wake. his fingertips gracing the frilly hem of your panties makes you squirm automatically, despite your efforts to stay still. 

he seemed to hesitate for a millisecond before his fingers roll over your mound. “h-hey!” you gasped, your entire body freezes in shock. caleb stroked over your pussy, the only thing between his touch and your skin being the thin lacey fabric of your underwear. his breath deepens as he traces over your folds, dipping a single fingertip down the center to trace over your covered clit. 

“you know, i didn’t pull strings on that case just to share our trip with someone else, right?” there wasn’t even enough time for you to be shocked by this revelation, caleb was moving quicker than your brain could comprehend. his hand trailed from your clothed heat up your body to cup your breast, rolling his palm over your nipple and then firmly squeezing the flesh. it was hard for him to control himself for longer than a few seconds, made abundantly clear by the way he alternated between roughness and tender touches on your hardening peaks.

“and after all i did, you have the nerve to skip out on dinner with me twice in a goddamn row…”

“caleb, y-you’re being-” your voice was trembling under the pressure of his robotic hand. it didn’t hurt, but it was rough and unrelenting. 

“and who exactly is leonardo? why didn’t you tell me about him when i called? just what did you do to make him think he could check on you like that, huh? it’s my job to protect you- or are you trying to replace me?” caleb’s questions are delivered in rapid fire succession, leaving no room for you to respond or plead your case. his robotic arm released your throat, giving you a chance to glimpse the dark blue and red ripples out of the corner of your eye. a heavy weight crashes onto your back, forcing you to lurch forward against the dining room table, your face crushed into the cold antique wood by his gravity evol. you squeal in protest, but all that does is make him press you down harder. 

he quickly hikes up your skirt once more until you can feel the cool air on your rear, which only solidifies how impossibly vulnerable you are in the moment. there’s another beat of hesitation, or admiration, from him before he pulls your panties to the side to fully reveal your pussy. caleb pressed his hand to your warmth, rubbing his knuckles over your folds slowly, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. “c-caleb, please think about what you’re doing. t-this isn’t right!” you whisper in desperation, as if he’d listen.

“i know exactly what i’m doing. i’ve just never had to resort to this.” he murmurs disapprovingly. “i used to trust that you’d tell me everything, pipsqueak.”

“i have told you every- unff!” your eyes widen from the sudden intrusion.

“hush. i’ll be the judge of that.” caleb’s middle finger, long and thick, slowly pushes it’s way deeper into your heat until it’s fully sheathed inside. “we promised to never keep secrets from one another, remember?” you are rendered completely speechless as his digit explores your most tender area, a place no one but yourself had. sliding along your walls slowly, rotating, prodding. it’s not like he was trying to give you pleasure, but rather inspecting you. sensing your shock and confusion, caleb answers the unspoken question on your lips.

“i’m just making sure you aren’t doing anything you’ll regret... there’s no reason for you to fight this if you have nothing to hide.”

caleb slowly drew his finger out and then slid back in with a second digit. the extra girth made you flinch and teeter on your toes. he watched your legs tremble from the unfamiliar pressure, your pussy fluttering and tensing around his fingers reflected both your discomfort and inexperience. “tolerate it for just a little while longer,” he urged sternly. his fingers pumped as slowly as possible, stretching your walls carefully.

caleb’s touch inside of you felt so right— blissfully so, despite it all. it was like every inch of his finger was created for your cunt, every ridge hitting you just right and coaxing out more slick from your core. shameful pleasure began to build in your body within a few pumps, which didn’t help how pathetic you felt being subjected to caleb’s control so easily. just as you were beginning to enjoy this bizarre sensation, it ended. he let out an approving sigh and pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop.’ 

your body was still his. 

despite not being able to see caleb’s face, his relief was palpable. his gravity evol lifted off of your body, but you still weren’t able to move. a different weight was placed on your back to hold you against the table. when two hands are planted on either side of you, you realize that he had practically collapsed on top of you.

“silly girl,” his head leaned against the back of your’s, nuzzling his nose into the depths of your hair. the cold silver of his apple necklace slid against your warm skin, sending a tingle down your spine. “you caused all this distress for no reason… do you enjoy getting a rise out of me?” caleb chided, but his voice didn’t boast that biting edge from before. his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath of your scent, attempting to still his rapidly beating heart. 

slowly, reluctantly, caleb stood up to free you from his crushing hold. your panties and dress are put back in place with a gentle touch, and although you wanted to slap his hand away, your head was spinning far too much to properly retaliate. he then turned you around to face him, revealing your flushed cheeks– one redder than the other due to the sheer force he had used when slamming you against the table, yet he didn’t acknowledge it or even look slightly regretful. 

his bionic hand reached up to fix your hair, like he often did. the artificial fingers felt strangely cold on your scalp, and not at all reassuring when combined with the heated ache between your legs. just barely in your line of sight, you caught a glimpse of his throbbing member through his denim. a wet patch of precum had formed at the tip along his upper thigh, saturating the already dark fabric with his sin. the sight of it sends a rush of forbidden excitement through you, but you quickly avert your gaze to hide your budding desire. caleb returned your timid expression with a warm smile, this time it actually reached his eyes. 

“now, we can eat.”

[tan1shere]

omg yesss i clicked on the wrong account😭 but i love ur writing and would love to see ur take on smth like that! maybe smth based off of that one lyric from the weeknd “Wanna fuck a skinny model right before her runway show, And we did it on the floor, that's why she walkin' kind of funny” yk ? sorry for the mix up!

Your Secret

Billie Eilish x vs female reader !

A/n: you're completely ok love ! I hope you enjoy <3 - update I went into vs today and ugh I'm thinking of another similar fic 😩

Summary: It wasn't Vitorias secret anymore. It was yours.

Warnings: smut, use of the name daddy, dunno if there's anything else to report yall should know the deal by now !

Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs @bilsdillldough @mystiquemm

Masterlist

Was it wrong? Possibly, but you couldn't care less. Whenever you had a show she was there watching, but you ofcourse had to have your fun before hand. She claimed you looked extra tasty in your outfit and needed to do unspeakable things to you. It was your secret. Nobody even knew you were together, nor suspected anything. They might've known you were friends but that's common in the celeb world. Everyone knew everyone.

You were about to go on in 15, but you feel hands on your waist in your dressing room. You knew it was her hands. "Hi." She spins you to face her. "Hey." - "you smell good." You breathe out, then in. Taking it in. "Yeah?" She says going to kiss your neck. "Bub-" She hums in response. "Not the neck we talked about this." But she wasn't playing. Not today. You'd always say to leave hickey's in spots you two could see, but considering the time she had, she gave 0 fucks today. She needed to ravish you and fast.

"Bills-" Ears were off. Not hearing a single thing coming out of your mouth. "P-please." You then moan as you feel her bite, her grip on your waist tightening. She was feral today. "Babe, I-" she turns you around, backing you up against a wall. Your heart picks up, what if someone came in. "You, we-" She pulls back. "You've never complained before when we do this?" Shes right you don't, but something seems more dangerous today. That and the fact your covered in purple and red splotches. Her body presses against yours more and you feel it. "Billie." She smirks. "What?" She knew what, but time was ticking and she needed to fuck you.

You stay silent. "I know you can feel it hm?" You swallow. Deciding to give in and let her do whatever she needs. When all of a sudden, you're laying on the carpet and her body is hovering above yours. Yet you can still feel it with how close she is. And it's driving you crazy. Your needs growing by the second, but you hear her belt jingle, as she unbuckles it. Everything was speedy, you probably had about 10 minutes left, maybe less. Her fingers move to the lingerie you were wearing, just moving it to the side as she gets the fake dick out.

You were glad there was a time limit, because she'd forever tease you, taking as much time as possible until you were a mess for her. But, she now realizes she could just snap her finger and you'd be on your knees, in a puddle. You feel the tip of it against your folds, her moving it to your entrance soon after. Hastily slipping in, and not surprisingly with ease. Her finger moves down to your pussy. "You're very wet, wonder why." She was too cocky for her own good. Her pace instantly harsh but you sure as hell didn't mind.

"Who got you wet huh?" Her face was so close to yours, moving her lips down to your cheek. Your neck. "Y-." But her hand grips your jaw. "The word I'm after starts with a completely different letter. You know this." You gulp, closing your eyes. "Daddy did.." You silently say, breathing heavily as she picks up speed. "Didn't quite catch that, what?" You open your eyes to look right at her. "Daddy, made me this wet." Her cockiness returns, smirking down at you. "Good girl, much better. And who's going to make this pretty angels legs shake?" You choke on your spit as she snaps her hips, harder.

Your head spins as you try get out the answer. "D-daddy." You stammered, feeling your release approaching. And within seconds you're leaking all over the fake cock. Breathing heavily as you come down from the high. She pulls out, earning a whine from you. She takes it off, going to grab some tissues to clean you up. Adjusting your outfit back the way it was. She gets you to stand, chuckling as you wobble. Giving your lips a sloppy kiss. "3 minutes, angel!" Someone calls, you swallow. Having no time to do all you needed to. Luckily there was only two hickeys.

Unluckily they were both in visible spots. Your heart still beating fast, you put the white wings on and go for the door. "Hey baby." Billie says, sprawled out on a couch in your dressing room. She had been watching you struggle to put the finishing touches on, very amused at her work. "Just remember who got you like that as you're walking out. All those eyes on you for the wrong reasons need to know who you belong to." She winks. You bite your lip. This was not going to be easy to do. Wasn't much of a secret anymore either.

[san8ny]

Can you do tutor!reader and dealer!Ellie where r is tutoring Ellie and Ellie falls head over heels, walking r to class, driving her home, and even helping her release some stress after a hard exam

SQUARE ROOT OF WHAT ?

?: You’ve been chosen to tutor someone for a quick cash-grab, but do they have to be this dumb? Maybe you’ll have to change your teaching style a bit.. / E.W / 18+

!: back to mfin BACK!!

“That's like, not correct."

Ellie lifts her head up with the hundredth tired look, meeting your strict one with oddity— how were you still so into this after lecturing her for a good..2 hours? She was sure you’d give up on her like the rest did.

Sighing, you lean over her and hold the pencil steady for her in her own grip as you show her where and when to mark the numbers down..or round them, whatever you were saying.

To be fair, Ellie did want to pass this class bad, but her eyes were beginning to strain from how many steps it came to solving this equation and mainly how you had good tits— what? Your eyes widen and you step back a bit, covering your neckline now.

Fuck, did she say that out-loud?

Scrambling from where she had her head laid on the table, knocking down her chair in the process and slipping onto the floor— she panic strickenly apologizes, informing you she wasn’t thinking straight Literally, and that she didn’t mean it in a weird way!

Modestly, you nod, trying to conceal the faint hue your facial undertones bring out, like the girl you were tutoring didn’t just say you had the nicest rack she’d ever seen. Coughing slightly, you two sit back down at the roundtable.

“Okay, maybe we should take a small break here and meet sometime this week then? You can’t exactly do math with a uh, clouded mind.”

Ellie nods at this, bringing her hand down to rub at her nape nervously, “Yeah, good point.”

Nodding, you begin to gather your stuff, and while Ellie should take that as an initiative to get the hell up and leave, she stays back a bit, awkwardly lingering as she crouches down and hands you the broken protractor she’d cracked earlier. You give a curt smile as you take it from her, not exactly seeing the use of the broken equipment but also not having the heart to tell her “just throw it away,” so you put the cracked pieces in your bookbag.

“Again, man, i’m so fuckin’ sorry. I swear i’m not like, a pervert or stuff, I don’t even say that shi—

You interrupt her with a slight hand gesture, telling her all was well and that you actually weren’t offended, taking the bold statement as somewhat of a compliment. Ellie stares at you, tilting her head. Really?

You wave to her once more before leaving, insisting you needed to catch the city-bus but the girl shakes her head with wide eyes. No way she was letting someone like you on public transport at 9pm. No offense, but she’d had her fair share of naïvely taking it during late hours most would avoid the transportation.

With not much convincing, both of you knowing exactly who’s reasonings outweigh the other, she leads you to her car. It’s not as bad of a vehicle you’d envisioned for her, afterall, some scratches and dents were expected of someone who dabbled in street-racing and delinquency as Ellie, but her car was surprisingly clean and pristine, a newer edition of a make-model you weren’t too knowledgeable about, but then again, a car was a car.

As Ellie starts the car and begins driving, you put in the address on her GPS. “Oh! Actually, could you put it in my phone instead? My car one is faulty.” Nodding, you grab her phone, opening it with the passcode she reads out to you, once you’ve got your address in, Ellie cashes more in, “And your number.”

Your eyebrow raises at this, side balling her, was this her lame attempt at getting your number? She had no problem just..meeting you at the library prior to this at the designated spot and tine, how come she need your digits now?

“Ah..just for if I don’t show or something comes up?” You smile, typing your phone in while Ellie spares you a short glance but then back to the road, “You got it.”

From there on, it became a routine between you two. You would text often, meet up for your sessions then she’d drop you off— it was ideal for the both of you, only you found yourself wanting more.

Ellie was book-dumb. A ditz in cargo shorts. There was no doubt about that, but, she had other assets to make up for that. For one, you didn’t find yourself falling for her until she’d tell you all about her loser endeavors, like how she found a ‘make your own sillybands’ set on Amazon and she spent an entire school night making elastic bracelets or maybe, that time she added a drop of NyQuil Cough Syrup to her drink and swore down she made lean. She was a character to say the least.

Right now, she was laying on your couch as you read her flashcards. Surprisingly, she was rapidly answering.

“That’s all.” You smile, noticing her blatant improvement, “You finished them all. You’re good for the test.”

While Ellie would smile at that, she looks down at her palms, tracing the lines before taking a small shrug. You look at her confused, wasn’t she happy?

The girl stares at you some more before sitting up fully, her knees pressing yours, “We’ll..still hang after this, right?” You don’t answer right away, looking at her with a slightly dropped jaw. Ellie takes that as an answer, scooting in closer, “Right?” Her breath fans over your face a bit, proving how overwhelmingly close in proximity she was to you.

That’s one thing you’ve noticed about Ellie, and probably the only place you two collide in, the constant need for reassurance. Finding your footing, you nod, “ ‘course.” To that, she smiles.

“Well, we’re done so you’re free from my shankles for today.” You snort, laying back on the couch and reaching for your phone. Ellie hums, reaching behind her and taking out a small encasing baggie. You weren’t dumb, you could recognize weed at first glance. “You don’t mind, do you?” She coughs, leaning back too into the sofa. What else could you have said? “No, I don’t.”

Her eyes get glossy in a few passes is what you see, already so relaxed than the previous state she was in prior to this. You sit there, tracing her forearm with your nails lightly, a habit you’ve had since childhood, though no-one really complains about it.

Ellie hums, turning her head to face where you sit next to her, you’re so fucking pretty that it almost hurts her. With a slight shiver once she hits the blunt again, she leans in to nuzzle her face into your neck, laying on you softly in a slight spooning position. You were also, very warm.

You smile, raking through her hair with said fingertips, massaging her scalp. “Does it feel good?” Ellie nods, seemingly dazed by how skilled your hands were. Reaching a hand up into her hair, she grabs ahold of yours, bringing it down to her lips— pressing a chaste kiss to your soft knuckles. Your breath hitches at this, and she just looks up at you, “I wanna make you feel good too.”

“Ellie..” Your eyes widen, mouth growing drier with each passing moment her eyes are transfixed on you. Geez, she really was adamant. “You don’t need to make me feel good, dude..” You nervously chuckle, not wanting to believe her words had deeper implications.

Ellie mouth opens, but shuts again, like a fish in water when you say that to her. You don’t want her to return the favor? How come? Is there something wrong with her palms? Do you think she’s dirty? Or do you just want her to get the hell up out of your house?

Her eyes alternate from your own ones to your lips, scooting closer to your face, “But I wanna.”

Now, you were a moaning mess on your slouchy couch, legs pried open with some rando you tutor giving you the best head you’ve had in a while, “Fuckkk..use more tongue.” You sigh, hand buried in her hair as you steer her, desperately lapping at your folds while you smoke her blunt.

Ellie nods repeatedly, burying her face even further into your cunt messily, spitting on it and licking it back up. Greedy..

“You’re so good f’me, hm? That why you purposely act stupid whenever i’m teaching you math? U-ungh..you’re so dumb, caving into whatever bitch gives you a smidge of attention.”

She’s genuinely about to cry from how mean you’re being, but she’s never been so aroused from such humiliation. She tries lifting her head up to give a rebuttal but you shove her back down.

“Y’know, actually, trace the equation earlier on me right now.” You snicker, “Maybe that’ll be our new method to get that empty head of yours to work.”

[egomiso]

the dressing room

your love for kenyu wins over common sense when you decide to visit him at his shoot one day chara: kenyu yukimiya x f!reader warning: nsfw content: oral, praise, mirror k!nk, creampie

Kenyu Yukimiya was a well-rounded guy.

A little too well-rounded. Excellent in soccer, an attractive model, and a charismatic personality, there was nothing he couldn't achieve. Too perfect and no rough edges. You wondered if you were undeserving of him, if that one day he would realize it and discard you to the side like the garbage you were.

Well, too bad. Because you were selfish and could never be the saint that lets him go. Rather, you would drag him down, straight down to hell, tainting his pure qualities.

He was so beautiful. And you loved him for that.

As you walked into the studio that Kenyu Yukimiya was supposedly working in today, you set down your bag containing his food and looked around. The studio was draped in white and organized, with cameras set up in the corner. You noticed a lot of familiar faces, including his manager and other employees under the same company, but your boyfriend was nowhere in sight.

You decided to go look for him.

Approaching one of the narrow hallways extending out from the main room, you peeked through doors that led to restrooms and storage rooms. Eventually, there was a door labeled Dressing Room. There was a likely chance he was in here, so with a deep breath, you raised your hand and knocked on the wood surface.

It took a few seconds, but a voice could be heard behind the door.

One that could only be described as Kenyu's.

You turned the knob and opened it, to see him there, sitting in a chair before the mirror. Surprisingly, it was empty except for him, the silence of it unusual. By now, the makeup artist would generally be in here, shouting orders to her minions.

"Love!" His eyes widened by your presence. He instantly got up from his seat, coming towards your way. "Why didn't you call me when you got here?"

You smiled. "I wanted to surprise you. I got you food too... but I left it out in the studio room."

Just as you were about to turn around to look for the forgotten food, his hand was on your arm, the warmth suddenly surrounding you like a thick fog. "No, it's okay. I can eat later."

"Is that so?" You tilted your head.

"Yes, because I'd rather eat you," he said jokingly, but the way his eyes darkened in hunger made it not so jokey.

You leaned on the door to shut it, your fingers twisting the key fob to lock it without looking back once. Your eyes stayed trained on your boyfriend. "You're so naughty, Ken."

With that, you closed the distance between the two of you, crashing your lips onto his. Soft and warm, they gave you a rush of butterflies as they always do, your heart beating against your chest, similarly to the day you first shared your kiss. As your tongue slithered into his mouth to dance alongside his, the rhythm of the kiss deepened and fastened. You held tightly onto him, feeling the heat of his proximity, causing your lower region to grow wet.

You pulled away first, smirking at his disappointed look. With your hand in his, you pulled him back to the mirrors and pushed him into the seat he originally sat at.

You pretended not to notice the outline of the hard-on that was showing on his pants, or the flustered red look on his adorable face. You loved seeing this side of him, something so much more vulnerable compared to the leader persona he kept. It was why it was too goddamn hard to let him go.

"[Name]..." he whined, eyes flitting about.

You picked up the glasses he left on the counter and held it up to him. "Put your glasses back on."

He blinked at you for a moment, surprised. "It's lame, isn't it? I hate being so blind."

"No. It's not. I love your glasses. You're fucking hot in them."

"I do...?" He instantly took the pair from your hand and put them on. He had the brightest grin on, now that he could see you fully. Not that it was helping his hard-on though... "This is why I love you."

You wrapped your arm around him and sat on his lap, grinning at the feeling of his boner. As you pressed your weight down against it, he grabbed your face into his direction. His orange eyes glimmered dangerously behind the rims, impatient and ready to devour. No longer so gentle and kind, he was ready to tear you apart.

"You're asking for it," he growled.

He kissed your neck, sucking succulently at the skin to mark you whole. "Mhm... I am." As he was about to take off his glasses again, you stopped him. "Don't. Fuck me in your glasses."

"Yes, my queen," he responded. Pulling your white blouse apart to reveal your bra, he continued to trace kisses down your body, from your collarbone to your torso. The peppered kisses tickled your skin, contributing to the heat between your legs. Eventually, he unbuckled the bra to reveal the blossom of your breasts.

His eyes widened, taking it all in, savoring it bit by bit. "You're a goddess. My goddess."

He kissed your breasts and started sucking at the nipples, sending a rush of euphoria through your head. You moaned with your head leaning back, clutching at the lengths of his brown hair.

And with that, he yanked at your pants to reveal your panties, already sopping wet. You worked your fingers to take his clothes off as well, pulling him up from the chair. His body was sculpted pristinely, built from his years of soccer, slender but with muscle rippling along his limbs. He was incredible to look at, and you wondered what you ever did in this lifetime to earn such a view.

"You're so fucking hot," he whispered.

"Then prove it."

He kissed you once more, and while doing so, stuck his fingers into the folds of your pussy. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the motions of the fingers sliding up and down in repetitive motion, sending you into orbit at the sensation.

"Ken-- mmph!"

He fiddled them expertly as if playing on a string instrument, knowing exactly where to hit the right spots.

"Shit," you moaned.

He pulled his fingers out the moment you were getting close, edging you on by the second. "You like my fingers, hm? I bet you'd like something bigger more."

You breathed out, feeling wet, slimy liquid rolling down your leg. However horny you were, you were also not going down without a fight. Kenyu somehow always flipped the switch to your competitive side -- and for that, you wanted to see him beg today. "You're not the only player on this field." Your hand wrapped around his large dick, feeling the layered folds of its skin. It was real hard, perfectly ready for your pussy. You massaged it up and down, before getting down to take it with your mouth.

A kiss on the tip of his member left him groaning instantly. "Fuck, [Name]." Your lips parted as you leaned forward, taking in the huge thing. The walls of your cheeks wrapped around it, as the tip hit the back of your throat. It was huge, but you loved it, because it tasted just like him.

His hips buckled and he shoved forward, lodging his penis deeper into your throat. Grunts sounded the still air, his sexy voice turning you on even further.

"Your mouth is so good," he moaned, his hands grabbing each side of your face. "Give it to me, love. Urgh!"

You savored his taste, his gifts, his love. Seeing him this way, so opposite from his put together persona, you only wanted him even more. More, more, more! He was yours, and it should stay this way until the end of this lifetime. You would give him this outpour of love that he could never find elsewhere. If he were to ever astray, this ensured he would make his way back to you.

Because you kept him addicted to you.

As you face fucked him, slithering your tongue along the edges of his dick, you watched his expression carefully. From the sweat sheened forehead to the ecstatic, high glint in his gaze, to the lull of his mouth hanging, you could feel your pussy grow tighter from the sight of it. Your beautiful Kenyu. Your shining star. To satisfy him was a gift from the heavens above.

"I-I'm going to..." he trailed off. Knowing him, you released the hold of your mouth from his penis, grinning mischievously. He was breathing heavily, wiping at his mouth. "Can we make love now, my love?"

"Is that what you really want?" you asked, grabbing hold of his chin.

An orange gaze full of yearning beneath lopsided glasses, he wanted it so bad -- wanted you so bad.

You kissed him, once, and then nodded in approval. "Mirror."

That was all it took. He pushed the weight of your body against the counter, clearing the makeup products with the swipe of his arm. Those same muscular arms created a makeshift cage on either side of your hips, trapping you in with his heat and testosterone. You watched the mirror closely, as he slowly leaned over your shoulder to kiss your collarbones.

With that, he pressed you down and your breasts landed on cool surface, spreading before the mirror. With a concentrated furrow of the brow, he held his member and inserted it into you, the feeling of it leaving you nearly reeling. So good!

Your eyes shadowed in lust, your mouth painted in a lopsided, crazed smile. Without missing a beat, you watched his reaction closely, the way it darkened of his own ego.

Love me like it is your last day.

"You're so tight," he told you with a grit.

"Just for you," you exhaled, as he started to shove his dick deeper, lodging it to the depths of your core. You were one with him, your ass to his waist, together and forever. He was the other half of your heart, the piece that filled the gaping hole that was your existence.

His hips buckled back and forth, the rhythm of his penis accelerating, pounding into your pussy. It hit the spots that brought you to a high. Skin on skin contact slapping rough became the sound of music to your ears.

"God save me!" you breathed out.

"I am your God," he said in response, sending a shiver down your spine. It reminded you once more why you loved him so. His true ego, his true self, only that was shown to you in these moments. He had multiple faucets to him -- multiple layers like an onion to peel. And everyday, you would continue to learn more about him. He could never grow boring. Not to you.

"Mmph!" you moaned, your fingers scratching the counter, trembling.

It was so hot, watching him through the mirror, tearing you down like lion's prey.

He fucked you like there was no tomorrow, made love to you like there was no tomorrow, in this small dressing room.

He made love to you in a place he shouldn't have, crossed a boundary at work when he should have stayed professional instead.

But you were honored. He made an exception just for you.

The friction of his dick against your vagina was heating up, the sensation comforting and delightful. It felt so good, so worth it, and so hot to do something so risky.

"You're so naughty, boy." Your words left as a slur, mouth dry and jumbled by it all.

As if your words were a catalyst of a jinx, a knock on the door outside of the dressing room echoed suddenly. The two of you stilled, eyes wide and frozen in place. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, but the pulse of your vagina was louder.

"Kenyu, are you in there?" It was his manager. "We'll begin the photoshoot soon."

"Y-Yes! I'm eating my lunch first, I'll be there soon!" he called to her. His tone was light and pure, the cheeks of his face tinted in red. He played it off smoothly, as if his dick wasn't lodged deep into you, yearning for more. You almost laughed. What a bad, lying boy he was, lying straight through pearly, white teeth to his manager while in such a deranged position. Oh how you loved every second of it.

Footsteps faded away, and it appeared his excuse had been bought for the time being.

You giggled and he sighed a breath of relief. "You always get me in some sort of trouble, [Name]."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"..."

"Exactly. So finish what you started."

He did it without any objections, ramming his cock into you even harder than before, your vagina accepting its length and girth naturally. This time, the two of you attempted to stay quieter, the thrill of the dangers adding onto it. You muffled your moans and he muffled his grunts, the temptations endless. Steadily, his thrusts were slowing down as his teeth grind harshly.

"Love, I'm c-coming soon."

You were nearly reaching your climax as well, the dam of stimulation ready to burst open. He groaned deeply and his head hung low, his chin grazing your head. Heat of his semen poured into you, oozing and creeping into your body's system. And you accepted it, because you accepted all of him.

It caused you to reach yours too and the high of a climax had your knees weak, taking you everything not to howl. So, so good. So damn good.

The cum dripped down your leg and to the floor, a beautiful mixture of yours and Kenyu's creation.

He pulled himself out of you and you turned around to embrace him with gentle arms. Despite how sticky and sweaty his body was, you were fine with it, because this was the product of your work. His arms squeezed tightly around you, the strength of them undeniable.

"Your motivation for today," you whispered.

"Nearly, got me in trouble, but it was worth it."

"Because someone couldn't control himself.''

"Just being in your presence makes me feral."

You grinned, petting his face softly. "Don't feed into my ego."

He tilted his head innocently. "But you already have the biggest one."

You lightly smacked him in the head, shooting him a glare. If he wasn't careful, he was going to gain some blue balls the next time. That would show him.

"I love you," he said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the fog off. You fought against the growing smile. Someone was breathing a little hard. How cute.

"I love you more."

[ixloom819]

Dinner Party (P5)

There were many reasons you didn’t leave Sylus’ base.

You knew the characters that lived in the N109 Zone, and they weren’t people you were inclined to make friends with. If you didn’t have Sylus’ protection, you imagine you wouldn’t last long out there.

And even with Sylus protecting you, there was tons of danger. Obviously there was the issue with Xavier, Rafayel, and Caleb due to Sylus’ actions. But Onychinus also had enemies within the N109 Zone, and you didn’t doubt one would at least try to kidnap or hurt you to get to Sylus.

So you stayed at the base all the time. And you were starting to go stir crazy.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have company - Sylus, Luke, Kieran, and even Mephisto kept the loneliness at bay. But there was only so much room at the base, and you wished for a change of scenery.

Sylus heard your wishes and found a way to fulfill them. In the least desirable way possible.

“There’s a gala in about a week,” he told you. “I’ve been watching the Fleet ,and the colonel will be away on a mission at that time. I would like you to be my partner there.”

That hit you right at your insecurities.

You knew that the elite women (or daughters of elites) were fond of trying to catch Sylus’ attention when he needed to attend such events - he complained as much to you. You didn’t feel jealous of them, not in the way you had felt with MC, but you did share his irritation for them.

At the same time, you didn’t feel like you should be seen with Sylus at an event like this. Even if you weren’t Sylus’ plus one, you were sure you could gain bad attention if you went.

These people had lived in high society for most of their lives. They had an elegance and presence trained into them for years. Even if you looked like a runway model, you knew you’d stick out like a sore thumb.

Sylus wasn’t just a part of that society; he ruled it. Wouldn’t it be better for him to be with the best of that world instead? Someone like you shouldn’t be by his side, especially at something like this-

“Hey.”

If Sylus’ voice didn’t bring you back to the moment, the hand cupping your face did.

“You’re overthinking things,” he continued. Not an accusation, but an observation. “You’re thinking lowly of yourself. I know that look.”

You both knew where he had seen that look before. When Miss Hunter arrived at the base.

And you both knew what he did to remedy that expression on your face.

“I don't want you thinking less of yourself or being overwhelmed by anything,” Sylus spoke in a soothing voice. “Let me rephrase.”

“Would you like to go to a party with me and enjoy yourself?”

Seeing his tender, loving look was enough to melt away your worries. You only took a moment to consider it before nodding in reply.

He kissed your forehead. “Good. Then we’ll prepare.”

Sylus brought you to a department store you hadn’t heard of before but was obviously designer-level. You hadn’t been anywhere like this ever ,and it made your head spin a bit.

But Sylus was right beside you the whole time. He let you have free reign over what you wanted. His only requirement was that the dress was black and red.

It didn’t need to be said why he asked this. Those were his colors, his way to staking a claim to you.

There were surprisingly many viable options with Sylus’ requirement. It was amusing to think that the N109 Zone stuck with a theme. In the end, you chose a modest dress that complimented your figure yet didn’t show too much.

At first, you were worried Sylus might disapprove, given the general fashion of these events. But he assured you that you had nothing to worry about. He even said (in that low tone that never failed to give you shivers), “This way, no man has further excuses to gawk at what’s mine.”

If it were possible for humans to melt, you would have become a puddle ages ago.

Now, it was the night of the gala. You had retreated to your room to put on your dress, style your hair, and put on some natural makeup. You weren’t looking to stand out after all, just to accompany Sylus without embarrassing him.

You paused for a moment, then stepped into sight of the full length mirror.

You take in your appearance for a moment. Two. Then three.

Then you scoff at yourself.

Yeah, this was nothing like the stories where you’d look at yourself all prettied up and suddenly discover you’re gorgeous or breathtaking.

You looked nice, sure. Pretty even. But beautiful? You couldn’t really see it.

Figuring you were as good as you were going to get, you stepped out of your room and went to meet Sylus out the door.

He wasn’t facing the door when you stepped outside. He has the same clothes he normally wore, but he had a sharp blazer, probably saved for occasions like this.

Hearing your footsteps, he turned to face you. He was also wearing a red tie, you noticed.

His eyes didn’t widen, as if your change from the normal was something shocking. Instead, his eyes travelled up and down your form, appreciating every detail.

“It compliments you wonderfully,” he spoke softly.

It always made you feel warm, how he always made you feel beautiful. The dress didn’t enhance your beauty, it just complimented you.

“Thank you,” you said with a soft smile. You took his extended hand, and he led you into the car.

As you approached your destination, your nerves began to spike. You did your best to hide it, even clasping your hands together to keep your body from betraying you by acting on nervous tics.

Yet Sylus seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to you. He put an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into a side hug, kissing the top of your head. “You’ll be alright, darling. It’s just a party. If we go there and you hate it, we can leave early.”

You felt a small bit of tension leave you as you nodded in response. However, you were determined not to be the reason you left early. You were here to enjoy yourself and you knew there were people here Sylus had to meet too. You could be strong for him.

Finally you pulled up to the building used for the gala. Even when you had been living with Sylus, the obvious wealth of the hall made you stare longer than you should. With an amused chuckle, Sylus pulled you along into the main ballroom.

As you expected, everyone looked like they were ready to go on the runway. They looked effortlessly perfect, though you logically knew how much effort they must use to create that impression.

As you expected, everyone turned to see Sylus enter the room. Of course the notorious unofficial ruler of the N109 Zone would gain attention anywhere he went.

And as you expected, when those eyes fell on you, you could see the distaste rise in them. You weren’t a face they recognized. You certainly didn’t meet the standards of the other women here. So why were you the one at Sylus’ side? You did your best to ignore the stares and just put on a nice face.

It wasn’t too bad. You stuck by Sylus most of the time and mainly just introduced yourself and listened to his conversations. You’d answer questions as honestly as possible, but when someone asked about where you were from, Sylus was quick to shift the subject. Would there be a day you weren’t grateful for this man?

But of course, it wouldn’t last forever. A man approached Sylus with just enough jewelry to make him look gaudy and a smile a bit too large to feel genuine.

“Sylus!” he exclaimed brightly, extending a hand which Sylus accepted. “Wonderful to see you sir, I was hoping I’d find you here. There’ve been a few… issues with the artillery shipments that I need to discuss with you.”

If you hadn’t gotten to know Sylus as well as you had, you wouldn’t have known his displeasure at being interrupted like this. “I see. Very well. I’m guessing you want to speak somewhere private.”

“Yes,” the man agreed, then glanced at you. “And alone.”

Sylus’ hold on you tightened a bit. You felt the inhale, could tell he was about to protest, insist on you staying with him.

So you spoke up first. “I’ll be alright Sylus,” you said quietly but enough to get his attention. “I’ll just hang out by the refreshments. I can handle myself for a couple minutes.”

Sylus looked very reluctant to leave your side. “Are you sure?” he checked.

You nodded with a smile. “I’m sure.” Then, in a lower tone, “Try to enjoy yourself.”

“I won’t,” he whispered back, then reluctantly departed with the jewelry man.

You weaved your way through people, avoiding eye contact, and made your way to the refreshments table, where plates too small to fill one up laid for people to pick up food buffet style. You picked at the things you knew you liked and a few things you felt like experimenting with.

You heard someone clear their throat. Glancing around you, you saw that you were the only person that throat clearing could be addressed to. Mentally sighing, you set your plate down on the table and turned to face them.

There was a stunning woman standing in front of you, looking ticked. She had navy blue hair that floated off her shoulders and bright yellow eyes. She was wearing a sleeveless scarlet dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Behind her was a small group of similarly beautiful women.

Your first thought was No way that’s all real. She must have dyed her hair or something else artificially manufactured. There’s no way she naturally looked that gorgeous.

Then you remembered this was a sci-fi video game world where purple hair and red eyes were considered as normal as brown hair and blue eyes. Now you felt stupid.

You put on a polite smile. “May I help you?”

The woman scowled at you. “Don’t act all prissy. Who are you and what are you doing with Sylus?”

It took a bit of effort to maintain your smile as you introduced yourself. “I’m Sylus’ date,” you added in response to her second question.

Her nostrils flared a bit. “Well I’ve certainly never heard of you,” she sneered. “Who do you think you are, sticking to Sylus’ side like a leech? You think you have any right to be there? He’s probably just playing with you. A man like him should be with someone with more class.” The women behind her tittered in agreement.

It was at that moment, when this woman came and threw your insecure thoughts at your face, did you realize just how stupid this was.

You had died a painful death, remembering every sensation of your body being crushed. You had faced death again, the pressure of a knife sometimes ghosting your neck.

Who was this woman to try to threaten and belittle you? She wasn’t even important enough to be mentioned in the game. She was just some shallow daughter of an elite who had googly eyes for Sylus.

What could she even do to you? Ruin your reputation? It doesn’t exist. Threaten you with whatever her parents had at their disposal? You had Sylus protecting you, and he was much stronger than he was meant to be with a whole soul now.

This whole thing just felt utterly ridiculous.

You brightened your smile a bit. “Oh I’m aware,” you said pleasantly. Your cheerful tone with contradicting words seemed to stun the women a bit.

“In fact, there was someone else in his life who I thought was much better for him,” you continued. “I tried to back away, to let them have their happy ending. And you know what he did?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment. You could tell the women were thrown off by you. They’d come here with the intention to ridicule you, humiliate you, and make you run from Sylus. So why were you sharing a past of insecurity with them?

“He killed her!” you said in a far too happy voice for the words you said, a broad smile on your face.

Your attitude definitely didn’t reflect your true feelings about the incident. It certainly didn’t reflect how you initially felt. But you found that when people said morbid things happily, it unsettled the audience. And sure enough, the women were looking at you with barely hidden horror.

“He killed her,” you continued, slowly stepping towards them while keeping up your pleasant persona, “because he didn’t want me thinking I had any competition. He wants me to know that I’m his one and only.”

Once you got close enough to the yellow eyed woman, you let your face drop to a stoic, emotionless expression. “So tell me,” you let your tone fall flat, “how badly do you want to become my rival?”

You could tell you had the effect you wanted by the shiver that shook her body. She took a few steps back, looking at you with a new sense of fear. Then she huffed, still trying to act like she was above you, and brushed past you, her clique nipping at her heels.

You watched them walk away with a smug pride. Yeah, that’s what I thought-

“Well,” a velvety voice rose behind you, “that’s a side I haven’t seen yet.” Spinning around, you found Sylus behind you.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Had he seen the whole thing? What did he think of it? Was your acting cringeworthy? Did he see it as melodramatic or trying too hard?

“Just a bit of acting,” you tried brushing it off. “I kinda wanted an excuse to try and freak someone out.”

“You did a great job,” Sylus responded, eyes swimming with amusement and… pride? “Very effective and natural looking. Maybe I should bring you to some negotiations.”

You flushed harder and shook your head. “I don’t know if I could maintain it under that kind of pressure.”

Sylus chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “That’s fine. I wasn’t planning on bringing you anywhere so dangerous anyway.” Shifting his weight, he continued, “I’ve finished my business here. Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly. “It’s been nice, but also a bit overwhelming.”

“Well then,” Sylus responded, slipping his arm around yours, “I’ll have to make sure you enjoy our next date more.”

You didn’t bother trying to hide the small smile his words prompted as he guided you through the building that suddenly felt like it only had the two of you.

[taetebebe]

FIT TO YOU

Pairing: model!Jungwon x fashion student!Reader

Synopsis: Shoulder appreciation with fluff and a bit of crack :)

Word count: 761

Author’s Notes: I had these 3 links 1. 2. 3., a crazy mind and a spare hour. If you’re in need of more shoulder appreciation check out this by @yourislandgirl (here it is, sweetheart).

Enhypen Bookshelf [[]

You had two rules as a fashion student:

Never faint in front of your models.

Never let your professor catch you eyeing Jungwon’s shoulders. (NEW)

Rule one was already teetering on the edge, and rule two was basically shredded because here he was, standing in the middle of your cramped studio, wearing a shirt that looked like it might burst any second, and shoulders wider than any human silhouette you’d ever tried to drape.

“Okay,” you said, clutching your measuring tape like a lifeline. “Let’s start with the basics.”

You tried to sound calm and professional, but your brain was doing cartwheels. How do you even begin measuring these shoulders? They might need their own zip code.

Jungwon gave you a slow, amused smile as if he knew what you were thinking. “They’re not that wide.”

You eyed him. “Yeah, well, that wide is a serious problem for someone who thinks a tape measure is a sword.”

He shrugged, and the fabric of his shirt protested dramatically, threatening to split like a bad relationship. “Fashion’s all about challenges, right?”

You gulped. “Right.”

You started with the usual—neck, chest, waist. Then came the monster: shoulder width.

“Forty-nine centimeters,” you muttered, blinking at the number as if it was a typo. “Seriously? Did you order these on purpose?”

Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying I’m a bodybuilder?”

“Bodybuilder? No. A walking, breathing architectural marvel? Absolutely.”

He laughed, this deep, almost amused sound that made your stomach do weird flips. “I’ve been called worse.”

You snorted, accidentally dropping your tape measure on his foot. He grinned and bent down to pick it up, muscles flexing under that shirt like a perfectly sculpted statue. You tried not to stare but failed miserably.

Note to self: find a way to turn wide shoulders into a fashion statement instead of a measurement nightmare so you don't fail.

The problem with Jungwon wasn’t just his shoulders—it was that every jacket, blazer, or shirt you tried to design for him turned into a battle of wills between fabric and flesh.

One day, you tried a sleek leather jacket prototype. The first time he tried it on, you held your breath, expecting an explosion. The seams stretched with a sickening pop—but held.

Jungwon looked in the mirror, flexed once, and said, “You know, these shoulders were made to carry me.”

You blinked. “Whoa, that’s… surprisingly profound coming from you.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, it’s the truth.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, but don’t quote me on that when this jacket rips in half.”

Despite the chaos, you started noticing little things. How he adjusted his stance to protect his shoulders from the world. How his shirt sleeves were always just a little too short, because finding the right length was basically an urban legend for guys with arms like his.

One afternoon, he caught you sketching him without realising.

“Are you stalking me or just obsessed with my shoulders?” he teased, crossing those impossibly broad arms over his chest.

You grinned back, not missing a beat. “Is it weird if I say a little bit of both?”

He laughed—loud, genuine—and suddenly the studio didn’t feel so cramped anymore.

Fittings became your favourite mess.

You'd pin fabric on him, only for him to break the pins by flexing. You’d gasp. He’d smirk.

“Want me to show you how annoying I can be?” he asked one day, eyes gleaming.

“Do I have a choice?”

He stepped closer, deliberately pressing those wide shoulders into your space. “Nope.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop smiling.

One night, after everyone else had gone, you stayed late to finish a jacket that was almost perfect. Jungwon was sprawled on your studio couch, scrolling through his phone, shoulders relaxed for once.

You walked over, threading your fingers along the curve of his shoulder.

“They really were made to carry you,” you murmured, the line suddenly feeling less like a joke and more like a truth.

He turned his head, surprised by the softness in your voice. “You don’t think they’re too much?”

“No,” you said. “I think they were made to carry me.”

His eyes widened just a little. “Really?”

You nodded, tracing gentle circles on his skin through the shirt. 

He swallowed hard, the silence between you thick with something new and terrifying and wonderful.

Before you knew it, he’d scooped you up, arms wide and warm—shoulders carrying you effortlessly like you weighed nothing.

You gasped, clutching at his neck, breath hitching.

He winked. “Just wait until you try using them as a pillow.”

© taetebebe 2025

[sweetascherry1]

I think we’re getting too deep Hayden Christensen Pt. I?

DESCRIPTION: The popular actor Hayden Christensen was seen with a popular super model! Paparazzi storm the two, and they both end up front page on "latest scandals". 'I think we're getting too deep, ain't no party on the weekend.'

PARING: Hayden Christensen x Super Model F!Reader

WARNINGS: Drinking, paparazzi being invading, smoking, situationship. Brief mentions of Y/N

WC: 3K something?

Hayden Christensen seen with super model on arm!

The young actor, recently starred in the movie shattered glass, was spotted leaving a mutual friend’s party last night with famous super model Y/N L/N

The two have never been seen together alone before last night, yet they seemed to be very close. Hayden has his arm wrapped around her waist, and she had no problems letting him.

Was it really all innocent, or is there more going on? Alls known is they cause quite the splash in the latest scandals. The hottest question now is, what really happened last night?

It was well known that you were a party person. Despite beliefs it wasn't for alcohol, sex, or anything like that. You loved to go out simply because you loved your closet.

You loved to do your makeup, pick out jewelry to wear, and your closet was your shrine to yourself. It was one of the many reasons you became a model, fashion. You loved to dress up, that was you.

So, it was expected of you to attend Ewan party, and you had no problems attending.

Hayden Christensen on the other hand could not be any more opposite. He loved staying home, dressing into ‘appropriate’ clothes was a chore, and he the comfort of home was too great.

Yet, Ewan was like a brother to him, and it had been a while since he had last saw him, and he would go.

He had a plan; stay for a few hours, catch up with Ewan, grab a drink, then ditch. Solid, and well thought out.

Never in a million years did he actually think he would be having fun.

“Ewan!” You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, as you ran to hug the man. “Best party yet!” Your voice was raised, trying to be heard over the loud music.

“It’s so good to see you!” He said your name, like he hadn’t seen you at the last event. The two of you became very close the last six months, and surprisingly not many people romanticized your friendship. Something you were both glad for. “I heard you may be working with a certain someone soon.” How a rumor leaked on your upcoming project with the playboy you’ll never know. However, even with the leak, it was still an anticipated release with your fans.

“If you get me started, I can’t promise I’ll shut up about it.” Your body hummed with energy. You were feeling good, it had been a hot minute since your last conversation with the man, the drink in your body made you feel loose, and the music had only heightened your mood.

“I’m really happy for you,” Ewan was the most genuine friend you probably had.

“And I’m happy for you, your career has really taken off.”

His eyes tracked to a person behind you, and you couldn’t help but follow them.

Tons of people were in the crowd, and not a single face stood out to you. Except the one person breaking through the crowd and heading straight for you and him.

“Hayden!” The two men hugged each other, before Ewan had introduced the two of you.

“Hayden, meet,” your name filtered off his tongue and to the young actor, your name was like a symphony.

You were beautiful, eye catching, to say the very least. The way your hair fell past your face, the color of your lips, how perfect your tits rested in your dress. You were jaw dropping.

“Nice to meet you, Hayden.” While your smile was a kick to the knees, your voice was a punch to his throat. His mind blanked, nothing but the sound of your voice in his head.

“Hayden?” His friend that he considered a brother asked, worry in his tone. It wasn’t surprising to Ewan that he’d get awkward in front of a pretty girl. The surprising part was him going dead silent.

“Sorry, hi I’m Hayden.” His stumbling words couldn’t help but make you laugh. “Which you already know that.” You almost missed his mumbling words.

“You played Anakin Skywalker, right?” Conversation, you were good at making that. Something he was not.

Pride washed through him. Yes, he did that, he played the Anakin Skywalker — he did a movie. "Yea, I did that.”

“I’ll leave you two to get to know one another, catch me before you two leave.” Each of you gave your byes to Ewan, and Hayden could feel his throat closing.

He was going to be alone with you, or as alone as you can get in a party.

“I really liked your movies.” You told the actor, and for a moment Hayden wanted to believe you meant it. That someone had actually liked what he helped made, but the truth was criticism was all he got from it.

“You don’t have to say that.” His voice was soft, and distance as he looked anywhere but your knowing eyes.

“I know. Saying things, you don’t have to means a lot more than one may think.” A ball got stuck inside his throat, and he couldn’t swallow it. He couldn’t swallow you. “I liked the movie; you shouldn’t let others affect your passion.” Your soft hand, with a few rings, rested on his shoulder. The intent meaning to be comforting only lit a fire inside him. And when you leaned up to kiss his cheek, you had completely set him ablaze.

“I hope to see you again; I had a nice time talking with you.” Just like that you were gone. The crowd consumed you, but even if you walked away from him — he could still remember everything about you.

The sound of your voice, the impulse in your eyes, the desire of your lips.

Hayden hated crowds, hated going to parties, but now he found it all not so bad. He recognized it to be all so exciting, he found you thrilling.

And began Hayden’s little ritual. He’d be invited out to a party, ask who was all going to be there and without fail the moment your name was mentioned he would be there.

It never how packed it was, the venue, the loudness of it all — somehow, he had always found you.

Music blared, a song you didn't even know capturing you. You danced, drink in hand, and a smile too joyful. It made the actor hesitate; you were having fun and the last thing he wanted was to interrupt it.

He hesitated for too long, and with an empty drink you deemed it time to finally get off the dance floor. But, for a moment you saw a glimpse of the man who you had met so briefly it left a lasting curiosity.

You stopped in your tracks and made the split decision to talk to Hayden, something he was forever grateful for.

It wasn't the only time and the next time you saw him he had shocked you by making his way to you. He approached you, and the shy actor you started to know washed away and a certain confidence overcame him with the familiarity of you.

Nerves always picked away at his skin, but he would never let that show - at least not in front of you.

It had started to become expected of the actor to make his way up to you. In fact, Ewan had bets with other mutual friends on how long it’d take for one of you to finally make your way to the other.

You’d be sitting at the bar, and the bar tender would offer you a kind smile while sliding a drink you didn’t order in front of yourself.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this.” It was common for a person to buy you a drink. However, it was uncommon for you to accept it.

“This from that man over there.” The guy said, pointing to a Hayden Christensen who sat staring at his drink. Not daring to look at you.

You gave the bartender a kind smile, taking the drink before making your way to the man that had been kind enough to buy it.

When Hayden saw you heading his way, for a moment his mind blanked, panicked. Why were you coming up to him? Did you want to talk to him? Did you actually remember him? Even through his panic however he remained seated. As much as he wanted to, he just couldn’t run away from you.

“Hello again.” His voice didn’t come out as shaky as he felt. In fact, you found his voice unwavering. As if he held a silent strength that made you want to listen forever.

“So, kind of you to remember me, Mr. Skywalker.” You place the drink beside his, a lip stain from your lip stick smudging the glass. “Not the best drink — I have to say.” It was as if you were challenging him. Checking him.

“Not up to your standards?” His question should have been innocent, but with the way he looked you up and down, a slight hesitancy when his gaze crossed your chest. “I’m sure it can’t be all that bad.”

He was teasing you, as if inside you weren’t making him squirm with a simple look.

Hayden wasn’t a fool when it came to girls, he didn’t have many girlfriends, but he had his fair share of experience in impressing them. So why did he keep feeling like he was twelve again looking at playboy magazines?

“Maybe my standards are higher than you think.” Your words had a cutting edge that sent shivers down his spine, and he could feel his pants tightening.

He reached for the glass you put onto the bar and angled it perfectly so his mouth would cover the stain you made.

All breath from your lungs left your body, not for a moment he stopped eye contact, his throat moved with the liquid going down and all you wanted to do was bite it.

This was a hard cry from the shy guy you had known from other encounters.

Placing the glass cup back down, he couldn’t stop himself from licking his lips. Your lipstick very faint on them. Everything in him tightened, his pants, his heart, everything.

“It not too bad,” he pushed himself off the stool, and made the very hasty decision to grab onto your waist. Pulling you up onto the chair he once sat, his arm caging you in.

His arms that show under his rolled-up sleeves. His arms that had veins slightly bulging, his arms that flexed a little when he noticed your dark eyes on them. Oh, you were so screwed.

“It’s very sweet, delicious.” He said words like he was already done undressing you, and you were all but waiting to be claimed, marked, fucked.

A humming fire lit inside you, deep, and it seared through you leaving nothing but agony in its wait.

“Hayden.��� A low groan released from the man, his head resting onto your chest. You didn’t notice his hands tightening on the chair, stopping them from touching you. You didn’t notice his rough breathing, only the rasp in his voice as if it physically pained him to be so closed to you, but so endlessly far.

You pulled his head from your chest, and he wanted to let a whine escape him. He loved how you felt, how you smelled.

“You’re a bad idea.” You couldn’t persuade the desire to stare at his lips away. “I can’t risk bad ideas.” You were at a point in your career where one mess up and you won’t recover. “I can’t make a mistake.”

“Am I a bad idea, or a mistake.” The question baffled you.

“What’s the difference?” A mistake and a bad idea were both a slip-up.

He pushed your legs slightly apart, making himself comfortable between them. His fingers brushing your open thigh.

“A bad idea is a misstep before it’s acted on.” He was close, so close you could feel the heat of his lips hover over yours. Before it moved past them and up to your ear. “A mistake is after it’s been acted on.” His breathing was faint against the shell of your ear. “So, what am I?”

You didn’t let him move a moment further away before capturing his lips in yours. “A mistake.” You grinned against his mouth, and God he was screwed.

It had become a sacred dance between the two of you. A party on the weekend and you'd no longer needed a driver to bring you home. Hayden would personally escort you to your door. (Always falling into your bed.)

Every party, and he was there. Every event and he'd always find you waiting for him.

It was casual. Yet even in casualty you found security in his arms. His touch was gentle, tender - while his eyes were filled with longing.

Somewhere along the way you spent longer mornings together, left the parties earlier, talked longer into the night.

It was all new to you. Caring so much about a person. You never cared about another person thoughts so much. You never listen to someone words so intently, afraid of missing a word.

You had pride yourself, never letting a single person be the cause of a rethink. You knew what you needed, what was best for you, however the burn of wanting coiled inside you.

You had idea you were in so deep with him, and neither did he.

He never knew how much you valued his opinions, and you never knew the confessions he would whisper to you in your sleep.

You'd often text, talking about each other's day, your next available day and when you got the text he wasn't going to the next party - you couldn't describe what willed you to stay in also. Or what made you ask him to come over.

He did, no questions asked. The moment you open your door to see him his smile was contagious. And then you knew why.

It was because he was the person to bring joy, the person that was the quiet that you needed. You spent your life as being the 'life of the party'. Never missing a crowd, and you never knew how much you needed a moment of silence until Hayden sat the silence with you.

Was that the moment when things shifted between the two of you? Or was it when he brought dinner to your apartment after a hard day? Or maybe it was when you spent days doing nothing but being with each other?

You couldn't say the moment, but you knew and so did Hayden. Nothing about the two of you were casual. You both were too much to be any less.

It was late at night, the white silk satin covers laying over the two of you. The alarm on your bed side table clicking to 2:37 AM.

"Hayden?" Your voice was soft, a voice he engraved into his heart. "Hm?" Your hands were entwined, your fingers playfully pulling his, and his other hand tracing your shoulder as he held you in his arms.

"This is nice." Your voice remained a whisper, and he knew exactly what you meant. Nothing but the two of you, holding each other, in the comforts of one another.

Everything about this moment Hayden found so much more than nice. The smell of your shampoo, your hair carrying the scent of something delicate and captivating. The fragrance lingered all around them surrounding him until he found it impossible not to get lost in you, drawn to your entire essence.

"It is." He simply agreed, too distracted by everything you. Had he always noticed so many details? In the midst of it all, you had become the silence he craved, the kind that never needed to be filled. He wanted to say something, tell you about every thought in his mind and how they all came back to you. Yet, fear overcame courage, and yearning would be the compromise of his hesitancy.

"The world goes by so fast." The sound of your voice was tired, sleepy, but you had never felt more awake. "Sometimes I feel like it'll pass me by."

The tilt of your head gave him the perfect view of your eyes, the slope of your nose, the plump of your lips - like a sin that made time forget itself.

"Then I'll slow down my own world for a chance to be a part of yours." The words flowed naturally from his lips, and the tightness of your chest squeezed your heart in ways you didn't understand.

"You're too kind to me."

"I'm serious." The touch of his hand left yours as he rested his palm to the side of your face. "I'm not good at this but I'd still myself before ever passing you by."

He didn't rush you, he never did, and when his eyes fell back onto your lips and waited for you to answer his silent question. Everything blurred, when he started lean down. The aching need to kiss you became a burning of pure demand.

He never was harsh with you, somehow, he knew exactly what you wanted, what pace you needed, and how to make you plea for everything else.

The parties slowly started to lose its appeal to you. However, even if you've skipped out on a few of them this one you promise your attendee would be there.

A familiar beat of tune over washed you when you saw the man who had occupied your thoughts siting at the bar. Waiting.

"Hello there, Mr. Skywalker." Sliding onto the barstool beside him, Hayden couldn't control the smile that came with seeing you. "Hello, superstar."

Drinks flowed between the two of you followed by drunken giggles. The hour was becoming later and later, and he didn't stop you when you jumped off the stool, grabbing his hands and leading him.

Your feet dragged to the dance floor, a familiar song playing throughout the entire venue. You guided his hands onto your body, the weight and feel of them like a story you’ve read a thousand times yet could never find the ending.

It was intimate, and unnerving — wordless longing. Your two bodies moved closed to one another his hands lingering on your hip while his other rested in the crooked of your neck. Your own hands placing on his waist eyes closed as you breathed him in. Each step unhurried, each sway deliberate, and every glance full of trust, and a burning desire.

“I think I might need some air.” You didn’t, but you knew he did. Because even inside your own bubble the world always had a way of pressing on it. A person dancing to close, someone’s voice yelling over the music. But Hayden didn’t say anything because he would rather chop his hand off than move from you. Leave you. He didn’t even let the thought cross his mind, you just knew him too well.

“Let’s go,” his hand fell from your face and interlinked your fingers together, like it was natural for him, and it was. Just like it was natural to wrap your other hand around his arm.

Hayden inhaled the smoke into his lungs, giving him a relief he desperately craved. The moon was high, a sign of the late hour, and you didn’t notice the goosebumps spreading on your skin from the cold until the warmth of his jacket fell onto your shoulders.

He didn’t stop you from taking the cigarette from his mouth. Instead, he watched as your lips wrapped around the death stick - the end flickering with a lighted flame.

Your lipstick smudged the cigarette, a stain leaving in its trail. Hayden could feel his heart stop as you placed the newly marked stick back onto his lips.

He didn’t get the chance to toss the thing away, to pull your lips onto his mouth and kiss you desperately, to have your lipstick stain not just that but his mouth too.

Paparazzi surrounded the two of you coming from absolutely nowhere.

“Hayden! What are you doing with Y/N L/N?”

“Y/N is it true that you’re soon to be working in acting?”

“What are the two of you doing together?”

What are the two of you doing together? Could it be called casual when you were everything but? Was it friends with benefits when the two of you desperately wanted to be more? Was it fun when it felt so serious?

Questions kept being asked, and Hayden reached his hand out grabbing onto your waist, leading you away from them or attempting too.

Shots after shots were being taken off the two of you. You wearing his jacket, him dangling a cigarette in his mouth that had a clear and visible lipstick stain that matched perfectly to yours.

You knew that articles would be published of the two of you. However making your way home, neither of you cared as you fell into the bed, tangling in one another.

The sanctuary of privacy was shattered, but as Hayden kissed every inch of your skin you couldn’t find regret.

ITS OVER! This took so long simply because I had such writers block oh my goodness 😭.

I was thinking about making a part two and even a little mini-series but we’ll see.

Legit me getting my ass HANDED to me by writers block… I don’t wanna talk about it.

[sereia4skz]

hey reia,

so the time here’s been quite the ride. The boys are super nice, and it’s been great to see lix again.

I spent time with his friends, Minho, Jisung, and Changbin, this weekend. They’re so cute, we went out to the mall. And I may have gotten to use vibrators on them.

It really isn’t my fault how much i teased them, their reactions were to die for.

We should call soon, miss you girlie!

(Congrats on 1k!! Can this be a dom!reader x brat!Minho, sub!ji and sub!changbin?? I understand if it makes you uncomfortable. Could i also be an anon?)

1k Followers Event | two's company, three's a crowd, what's four?

pairing: cat!minho x bunny!changbin x quokka!jisung x reader

genre: smut

warnings: hybrid au, vibrators, the cuck chair guys, MxM, orgasm denial, voyeurism, dom!reader, brat!minho

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

Hey lovie,

Sounds super fun! Maybe you should do something about the brat Minho. 

Knowing you you'll find something fun to do :P

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

The food court was packed, filled with the low roar of chatter, trays clattering, and kids screaming over the whirr of smoothie blenders. Every surface gleamed with that fake-clean mall sheen, slightly sticky if you stayed in one place too long. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, like a warning not to get too comfortable.

Minho looked at the long line of people queuing for boba and sighed like he’d just been asked to dig his own grave. “This is going to take forever.”

“You three go,” you offered sweetly, slipping into a plastic chair at one of the bolted-down tables. “I’ll guard our spot.”

“Don’t wander,” Minho said sharply, eyeing you as if he already knew you were going to do exactly that.

You gave him your best innocent blink. “Would I ever?”

Jisung grinned. “She’s definitely going to wander.”

Minho grabbed his ear and tugged. “Come on, snitch.”

As the boys disappeared into the drink line, you waited… for all of about thirty seconds.

Across from your table, just past the magazine and novelty gift store, a different kind of sign glowed. One you hadn’t noticed before. Black background. Metallic red letters, the kind that shimmer under the lights of the mall.

ESCAPE — Adults Only

You tilted your head. From where you sat, you could just make out a few of the displays inside, clean, tasteful shelving, walls lined with velvety paddles and chrome restraints. A mannequin wore a full harness over a sheer robe in the window. Not tacky. Not hidden. Just... waiting.

Well. Maybe you would wander. You stood up, and made your way across the wide walkway, heels tapping quietly against the tile. No one paid you any attention.

The store was surprisingly quiet inside, the heavy glass door muffling the mall noise completely once it swung shut behind you. The lighting was low and warm, casting everything in a soft, gold haze. Shelves were spaced just far enough apart for discretion but close enough to feel intimate, like the whole place was in on a secret.

You let your fingers trail over the edge of a display table. Leather cuffs. Soft, supple, well-oiled. Good stitching. You gave one a slight tug to test the give. Quality.

You wandered a little deeper. Silicone plugs in a dozen colors. Ropes dyed in deep jewel tones. Paddles with words cut into the leather. You picked one up and gave it a little flick of your wrist, light, balanced, with a satisfying swish through the air. You smiled, your imagination playing as you moved to the next aisle. 

The vibrator wall. There was a whole spectrum, tiny bullet vibes, clitoral suction toys, dual-action wands, sleek remote-controlled ones you could wear under clothes. One model caught your eye: slim, matte black, curved with a gentle ridge near the tip. Not too big. Not too obvious. Discreet. Perfect.

You picked it up, turning it over in your hand just as the door behind you opened.

“Are you kidding me?” Minho’s voice was low and tight with annoyance. 

You turned to see all three boys standing there. Jisung rushed toward you first, wide-eyed and breathless. “You weren’t at the table, what if something happened?! You could’ve gotten snatched!”

“I was gone for five minutes. And I'm an adult”

Minho crossed his arms and stalked closer, scolding you with every step. “You’re in a sex shop. In public. In that. With your ass basically out.”

You raised the toy you were holding just a little. “But look how cute it is.”

Changbin hadn’t said a word.

He stood at the edge of the aisle, staring at the toy in your hand with wide eyes, his lower lip caught between his teeth. His tail had gone completely still.

“Binnie,” you purred. “You like this one?”

He nodded, cheeks flushing hot pink.

“I might buy it,” you said casually, watching his ears twitch. “Might even use it tonight.”

Jisung made a little choked noise. Minho exhaled like he was using every ounce of self-control. You grinned.

“She’s gonna kill us.” one of them whispered as you went back to browsing the shelfs

⋆｡°✩

Changbin’s room buzzes with something electric tonight, nothing like its usual gentle, warm energy. The sheets still smell like fresh linen, and the salt lamp glows softly in the corner, but now it’s all undercut with heat, with tension, with need.

He sits on the edge of the bed, legs slightly spread, hands fidgeting in his lap. His tail thumps against the mattress in a slow, anxious rhythm. His ears droop low. Big, brown eyes follow your every move.

You close the door behind you with a soft click, louder than it should be in the quiet.

“Hey, Binnie.”

His head snaps up. “H-Hi.”

You take your time crossing the room, boots clicking softly on the floor. You feel his gaze travel up your legs, stalling at your thighs, catching on the little silk robe you’ve thrown on, barely tied, sheer enough to tease the curve of your hips.

“You remember that toy we saw earlier?”

He swallows hard. “The, um… the vibrator?”

You grin and reach into your bag, pulling it out slowly, matte black, freshly charged. You run your thumb over the button, and it hums faintly, just loud enough to cut through the silence.

Changbin’s thighs twitch.

“You were so quiet in the store,” you say, stepping between his knees. “I think you were imagining this.” You reach down, fingers slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants. “You gonna be good and let me play?”

He nods instantly.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes-yes, please.”

You smile and press him gently back onto the bed, straddling his lap as you tug his sweats down. He’s already half-hard, sensitive and twitching under your touch. You click the toy on again, setting it to a low buzz, and brush it along the inside of his thigh.

His hips jerk.

“You’re always so responsive, bunny,” you murmur, dragging the toy up to tease the base of his cock. “So needy.”

“I-I can’t help it,” he whispers, already breathless.

“I know,” you coo. “You don’t have to.”

You play with him like that, slowly, deliberately, testing each setting, each angle. His muscles tense every time you increase the intensity, breath catching in his throat. He whimpers when you press it flush against him, your other hand cupping his balls, rolling them just enough to make his back arch.

And just as you lean in to kiss his throat–

The door bursts open.

Minho stands there, hand on the knob, Jisung panting behind him, guilt and excitement lighting up his face.

Minho’s eyes sweep the scene. The toy. Changbin’s flushed, leaking cock. Your barely-there robe.

“Oh hell no,” Minho growls, dragging Jisung into the room by the wrist. “You think you get to have all the fun while we sit there listening through the wall?”

You blink. “I didn’t know you were listening.”

“You left the bag on the counter. That toy wasn’t exactly a mystery.”

Jisung’s already kicking off his hoodie, eyes locked on the toy like it might float his way if he stares hard enough. “We deserve to play too.”

Minho crosses the room in two strides, looming over the bed, arms folded, pupils blown wide. “You really thought you’d get away with starting without us?”

You smirk. “Deserve? That’s not really for you to decide.”

“Unacceptable,” Minho snaps.

You tilt your head. “You gonna do something about it, kitten?”

He leans in close, nose nearly brushing yours. His voice drops, sharp and dangerous. “If you’re not careful, I’ll flip this whole scene and make you the one begging.”

“Promises, promises,” you murmur, flicking the vibrator up to a higher setting, right against Changbin’s flushed tip.

Changbin lets out a strangled whine. Jisung climbs onto the bed, already kneeling, eyes wide and greedy. “C-Can I try it too?” He chokes on a breath, flushed all the way down his chest. “Please.”

You look between the two of them, Changbin already squirming, Jisung vibrating with need, and flick your eyes to Minho, who hasn’t moved, jaw clenched like he could bite through steel.

“Take off your clothes,” you order, stepping back and holding the toy up like a prize. “Both of you. Now.”

They obey instantly, fumbling with shirts, pants, underwear, until all that’s left are flushed bodies, eager cocks, and twitching ears. You settle on the bed behind Changbin, pulling him back between your legs like a big plush doll, spreading his thighs apart.

“Come lie against your hyung, baby,” you tell Jisung.

He does, eyes round and glossy. You click the toy on again, medium this time, and slide it between them, nestling it carefully between their cocks, right where their skin meets. The faint buzz starts again, and Changbin gasps, twitching in your arms.

“Now hump,” you whisper in his ear. “Grind on him like you’re in heat. You know how.”

Changbin whines, embarrassed, but you wrap your arm around his middle and give a little push.

Their hips meet with a soft, slick slide of skin-on-skin and silicone. The toy buzzes between them, catching on the underside of each cock as they rutt. Changbin’s head drops back onto your shoulder, and Jisung moans, arms clinging to his hyung’s waist like he might fall apart if he lets go.

“You look so pretty like this,” you coo. “Two needy bunnies fucking like animals. Thought Binnie was the only bunny here.”

The rhythm gets faster, messier, the toy sliding slickly between them. Jisung’s thighs shake, and Changbin pants so hard he can barely speak.

Minho still hasn’t spoken. You look up at him, he’s standing, hands clenched at his sides, cock straining against his jeans. Pupils blown. Lips parted. He looks like he might fall apart from just watching.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” you purr, voice syrup-sweet. “Jealous?”

He glares, but the tremble in his jaw betrays him. “Hannie is mine.”

“Mm. Not right now he’s not.”

You reach forward, still cradling Changbin’s hip with the other hand, and undo Minho’s fly, tugging his jeans just low enough for his cock to spring free—flushed, leaking, untouched.

“Look at you,” you murmur. “So hard just from watching. Maybe if you hadn’t been such a mouthy brat earlier, you’d be the one humping something warm right now.”

He growls, low and shaky. “Please…”

You smile. “No. You’re going to sit. Right there.” You point to the armchair. “And keep your hands on your arms. If you touch yourself, I’ll have to punish you. Understood?”

He holds your gaze a moment longer, then obeys. He sits, legs spread, cock straining up, twitching. You click the vibrator up another level.

Both Jisung and Changbin cry out.

“Good boys,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the side of Binnie’s neck, licking the sweat there. “Show him how good boys get rewarded.”

Jisung’s hips stutter against Changbin’s, the low buzz of the toy loud in the sweat-slick silence. Their cocks rub together with every desperate thrust, the vibrator pressed snug between them, both of them gasping, whining, their hands tangled in each other’s skin like they don’t know what to hold onto.

Changbin trembles in your arms, head lolled back on your shoulder, mouth open and panting helplessly. His thighs are tense, tail twitching erratically where it curls against your hip. Jisung clings to him like he’ll fall apart if he lets go, rutting desperately with little broken sounds falling from his lips.

You watch them for a moment, utterly entranced, two gorgeous hybrids, bodies flushed, ears low, whining and whimpering like they don’t even know they’re doing it.

Then your gaze shifts to Minho.

He sits where you told him to. His fingers dig into the arms of the chair, knuckles bone-white, chest heaving as he tries and fails to keep his breathing even. His cock twitches, leaking steadily, jumping every time one of the others moans. He looks like he might snap in half from the tension alone.

You smile sweetly. “Poor kitten. Bet your cock hurts, huh?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s too flushed, too locked in place, trembling from restraint. He’s not sulking, he’s suffering beautifully.

“Oh, Binnie,” you coo, resting your chin on Changbin’s shoulder, still guiding his hips forward with one firm hand. “Jisung feels so warm, doesn’t he? So soft on your cock. Such a good little pet to rut on.”

Jisung moans louder at that, his whole body jerking as he chases every slick drag of skin and toy and sweat. “I-I can’t–I'm close, I’m- please–”

You reach between them, adjusting the angle just enough to make the vibrations hit perfectly, direct pressure right under both their cocks. Changbin cries out, his body going taut like a bowstring.

“Ah-ah, fuck- gonna–”

“Go ahead,” you whisper, voice like velvet over glass. “Cum for me. Make Minho watch.”

They break together.

Jisung sobs, clinging tighter around Changbin’s waist. Changbin’s legs kick helplessly as they rut through it, desperate to feel every last spark of friction. Their moans echo, high and messy, and their cum slicks the toy, their stomachs, each other’s skin. You click the vibrator off with a soft snap.

“Look at them, kitten,” you purr, voice thick with heat. “Spent. Messy. So well-used. And you’re still over there. Untouched.”

Minho grits his teeth. “Please- please, I need- I'm sorry–”

You tilt your head and smile, wicked and slow. Then you stand, letting Changbin and Jisung collapse in a boneless heap on the bed, twitching and whimpering through the aftershocks.

Your steps across the room are deliberate. Each sway of your hips is a tease, measured, cruel. You stop in front of Minho, crouching between his legs. Your breath ghosts over the flushed head of his cock, he whimpers, hips twitching instinctively toward you.

But you don’t touch. He whines again, more desperate this time.

“If you really want to earn it…” you murmur, glancing back at the bed, at the slicked-up mess of your two bunnies, dazed and pliant. “Then you’re going to clean them up. With your mouth.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━⋆｡°✩

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0

[artssslut2]

New Normal

Dilf!Art x Reader

Summary: A lazy morning with Art Donaldson.

You and Art became inseparable soon after you started dating, well as inseparable as you could be while Art was raising a five year old. You had met Lily for the first time a while ago and she loved you, she called you her best friend, it was the sweetest. Nowadays you and Lily would spend more and more time together.

However you never slept over when Lily was with Art. You didn’t want her to be confused or get too used to you being around all the time. Even though Art was sure you were it for him. He was a father first and a great one. Tashi had Lily most weekends - when she wasn’t out of town coaching, but this weekend she was home and had their daughter. Art always misses Lily so much, but it was nice to have some alone time with his girlfriend. You stayed over since Thursday, it was amazing. Art was so romantic and caring. It was like you were royalty anytime you were around him.

You rolled over in the morning still groggy from waking up, you saw your boyfriend laying next to you admiring you sweetly

“Hey sleepyhead” Art whispered tucking hair behind your ear. You smiled and kissed his hand as a response “think about how great it will be when you live here.” He hinted curling up next to you

“Oh yeah?” You chuckled with a raspy sleep voice “when’s that gonna happen?” Art looked at you lovingly and took a breath

“Soon, when I propose.” He winked, your heart started pounding and you felt 100% awake. You loved art and wanted a future together, you knew this talk would come but it caught you off guard in a good way.

“Yeah?” You asked with an enormous smile that made Art return the smile

“Yeah” he chuckled “if you’d want that” he followed joking around because he knew the answer. You nodded enthusiastically and he laughed then you laughed crawling up into his lap giggling like a kid

“I just… gotta talk with Lily and come up with a plan so that she feels good, I don’t want her to feel left out or anything.” He told you in his concerned dad mode. You loved seeing him as a father, watching him worry about his little girl made your heart melt

“You’re a really great dad, you know.” You smiled, he let out a soft exhale and smiled slightly, you felt butterflies in your stomach before asking him what’s on your mind “D-do you… want to be a dad again?” You asked shyly. You were young and still wanted more kids, surprisingly it’s something you hadn’t talked about. You couldn’t read his face and started to panic a little “maybe… later on like someday?” You continued nervously. Then a smile spread on his face and a tear formed in his eye

“Yeah. Yeah I would love that.” He said wiping a tear before it could fall.

“Baby are you okay?” You asked holding his face and he just continued smiling

“Of course I’m okay. I just never thought this would happen to me… I thought I was done with that stuff I felt kind of I don’t know unlovable. I’m thankful for Tashi but that marriage took everything out of me. But when I met you. Baby when I met you everything changed, I felt so alive again for the first time in so long. I love you so much y/n.” He said teary eyed. You hadn’t seen art this emotional. It made you tear up too, watching Art learn to love himself again was one of the greatest things to watch.

“Art you deserve the world. You the greatest partner and father and role model, I’m in awe of you everyday. I want to help give you the marriage and life you deserve.” You touched your forehead to his.

“I’m gonna give you everything.” He said kissing your forehead and then you passionately. Then he felt his phone go off. He wouldn’t normally pick it up when he was spending time with you but since it could be about his daughter he did. He looked at it with slight disappointment

“Tashi has to catch a flight she needs me to go pick Lily up.” He told you. He wasn’t upset, it’s not that he didn’t want to pick up Lily. Not that at all, he just hated seeing Tashi choose work over their daughter more and more. He never wanted Lily to feel how he felt.

“Oh, do you want me to head out ?” You asked understandingly

“No… come with me. Lily will be happy to see you.” He told you putting a shirt on. You wouldn’t go with him on drop offs or pickups you tried staying out of the day to day routine. “You sure?” You asked

“Absolutely. Gotta get used to the new normal.” He smirked buckling his belt. Your heart fluttered and you nodded.

You and Art got to Tashi’s about thirty minutes later, Art went up to the front door and didn’t even get half way there before Lily burst through the door and ran straight into his arms, it made you smile and think about what a good man he was. He put Lily in his hip and then met Tashi by the door. They talked for a minute and then Art gestured towards his car and Tashi gave a quick wave in your direction. Then the door shut and Lily and Art were on their way to the car.

“Y/N!!!” Lily greeted excitedly leaving from the backseat to give you a hug,

“Lily!” You returned and Art smiled

“Y/n are you coming home with us?” She asked with the same scrunched up smile her dad had

“Yes of course I am!” You matched her energy and she was ecstatic “we’re gonna stop at Starbucks first though right?” You asked leaning towards Art and he gave you a smile

“I guess so” he said playfully as you have Lily a wink and she laughed.

You couldn’t wait to officially be apart of their family, they were your world.

[certainempatheticturkeymuffin]

I love the idea of an unhinged Mondstadt, like, after Decarabian dies, the people are so wary around Barbatos, who has done so much to make them feel comfortable, that one day he just snaps and goes “Be strong enough to kill me too, then!”

And the Imunlaukr took that as a challenge. Because, like, Barbatos gave them hope and purpose, and their whole thing is battling until they die, so when the only person they've ever cared about tells them to get strong enough to become Professional God Killers, that's exactly what they do!

And obv, the Gunnhildrs take this as the Imunlaukr challenging their turf as Most Pious Clan, so they start getting stronger too — and the Lawrence Clan sees this and goes “We survived the blizzard, we can't let these weaklings think they're better than us.” And the general populous of Mond is either like “Well, our god told us to so we gotta”, “These clan members are crazy, we've gotta be strong too so they can't subjugate us”, or “Oh fuck yeah, everyone is actually trying to kill this upstart god, let's get stronger to kill him!”

And suddenly Mondstadt's culture forms around getting strong enough to one day kill Barbatos. Of course, over time, it's less out of “kill him before he enslaves us” and more “one day he will erode, and he trusts us to dispose of him when that day comes”

And obviously, Barbatos has to stick around as a measuring stick, right? So he does, and the strongest warriors (who are coincidentally the most faithful, given that they're usually Imunlaukr, Lawrence, or Gunnhildr, and those that aren't are experienced enough soldiers that they quickly realize Barbatos doesn't actually like hurting people whatsoever) quickly form a rapport with him that easily turns into proper friendship. And when other gods come around looking for a fight (because the Archon War didn't end until 600 years after Decarabian kicks the bucket) they get the perfect test dummies — early on, they are, of course, mostly just in the way, but they get better surprisingly quickly, and by the time the Archon War is over, gods generally stay away from Mond because “They're fucking crazy — they killed [blank] without their god's help, how the fuck–” which of course gets them a reputation that has even Liyue coming over to sign a nonaggression pact because they'd rather not risk it when Morax is basically a shoe-in for Geo Archon.

And by the time Barbatos comes around with a new baby dragon, the populous has mostly taken a liking to him, so there's less “Assassinate the child” and more “This kid needs to learn how to slit throats with his bare wings or he'll be a disappointment”

As for Andrius, he finds the humans that come around for fights more entertaining than before, so he doesn't really mind the change too much. Especially since most of them respect when he says no. Those that don't quickly get taught the difference between a friendly spar and an actual murder attempt.

And when Vennessa's clan comes around, they are welcomed with open arms because “New fighting techniques! A clan of warriors!” and many quickly reach the level of their strongest warriors (who in turn are stronger than their predecessors, the Actual God Killers)

As for Barbatos himself… he's just kinda rolling with it. The people don't mind him hanging around, and it's honestly gotten kinda fun to dodge random assassination attempts (definitely not something he expected to enjoy, given that he still doesn't like fighting that much), and it's super cute when kids come up and try to lure him into a false sense of security before stabbing him. He gets to play songs in the square with the other bards (because a culture is certainly more than a single aspect, and I doubt you'll ever take music out of Mond's blood, especially with Barbatos Himself in the city to fuel it) and people treat him as an equal or a role model rather than a god… mostly. The church is actually concerningly cultish, but they haven't actually tried to undermine anyone's freedom, so if its activities and teachings are voluntary Barbatos kinda has to let it slide.

And yes, this is absolutely an excuse to have a crazy competent Barbara, ready to drown anyone that says something bad about Barbatos, and a Rosaria that is actually super respected in the church for her skills and embracement of Freedom. Is this a role swap where Jean is in awe of her younger sister? Maybe, actually, because that would be cool. The other nuns are also scary — even without a vision, pretty much everyone in Mond knows their way around at least one kind of weapon, and the nuns are particularly vicious, ready for the day they must take down their beloved Barbatos.

And obviously Lisa is the scariest of the bunch. She's not just an electro user, she's also a MAGE. She went to Sumeru, learned very little, and came back to further refine her God-Sealing techniques (a long-held tradition: new mages look over old techniques for when Barbatos erodes and see how they can be improved). You piss her off and you'll be lucky if you suddenly disappear (the less lucky learn that the Knights are almost as bad as the Church, just way better at hiding it)

Bennett too, is generally accepted. His bad luck causes a lot of surprises, but what warrior has bad reflexes? The fact that he's gotten personal training from Sir Kaeya means he's a generally good (meaning, absolutely insane in the eyes of other nations [except maybe Natlan]) swordsman. And, given the general danger level around Mond, the fact that he's still alive is something everyone views as a bit of a miracle — he MUST be good if he's still alive with that kind of luck.

(The Traveler is morbidly intrigued, and when Mond realizes they're a really good swordsman with a never before seen style… well, they get waylaid for a bit longer than intended. Mondstadt is kinda viewed as “home” in canon, so even with this culture shift, the Traveler does settle in nicely lol — Paimon struggles a bit more, but once someone teaches her to use a catalyst after her first experience being useless and unable to help the Traveler in a dangerous situation, she's just as comfortable as anyone else, and she can actually help the Traveler in a fight now! This gets rid of like half of Paimon's attachment issues and trauma.)

Other nations are very politely looking the other way (mostly, because you know Damn Well Tartaglia took one look at them and decided he needed to fight them NOW), but Natlan, oh Natlan. Before the Cataclysm, it was very hard to not find a group of Natlanese in Mond or a group of Mondstadters in Natlan, even now, Mondstadters are often seen there, and they're pretty understanding of the whole "Unable to leave or we'll suffer" thing — they have mages working on it. If they can kill a god, surely they can help their battle buddies out! Natlan and Mondstadt are very close allies despite literally being on opposite side of the continent (hey the trip there is part of the fun!) and everyone else is just begging to not ever have to fight them. (In other news, Thoma scares the shit out of Inazuma and both Ayato and Ayaka are stronger than canon thanks to him — even Sayu's picked up a few tricks! And Verr Goldet is both terrifying and the perfect wife, Huai'an loves her and all her terrifyingness, she is amazing at dealing with bitchy customers because all of them shut up once they learn she's from Mond. Xiao has mixed feelings: she's strong, but that also means she's strong enough to back it up when she bosses him around — he doesn't NEED sleep, just let him do his job!)

Aside from all the stabbings (which are honestly more of a friendly greeting now, don't worry about it), Barbatos actually has a much healthier relationship with his people here. He doesn't have to pretend to be weak to keep their peace of mind, he doesn't have to hide his godhood, and Dvalin is well socialized and not reliant on just him for company. Barbatos can be chilling with a drink, wings out and everything, and friendly drunkards won't even hesitate to sling an arm around him and drag him into a drinking song. Bards actively join him for songs rather than aspiring to reach his “perfection”, and kids love running around underfoot to ask him questions about all manner of things.

But anyway, mostly an excuse for scary nuns, not the hit of sadness when you realize he doesn't have that kind of safety and confidence in canon.

[mossyvil]

i KNOW this is such a common trope but i just think the idea of crewel using you as a model for his clothing lines so cute ehajdkdbebe

it’s no coincidence that crewels favorite type of clothes to design are the ones you like to wear the most 👀 he loves to see you in his creations, to him you’re the most perfect model he could ask for! he won’t stand for any self deprecation, he wants you to see yourself like he does- the most attractive, mesmerizing person he’s ever seen (and that’s saying a lot, he works with all kinds of fashion models and beautiful people, but he thinks you are the best person he’s laid eyes on)

people notice the shift in his designs- all of the sudden his new fashion lines are different from what he would usually put out- but surprisingly enough people love his new work. critics rave about how inspired he seems now, and his fans notice how he talks about his projects has started to sound more proud than it has in the past.

if you’re okay with it, he totally wants to show you off in his creations. he takes you to events and tells everyone who will listen about how you’ve been his biggest inspiration yet, and the love radiating off him is so out of character it gives people whiplash

if you’d rather stay out of the spotlight, he completely understands. he tells reporters that his “special someone” is behind his newfound surge of creativity, but shuts down any attempt at prying into your identity

slightly nsfw thought under the cut COUGH-

ok but crewel making a lingerie line and he has you try on his first drafts AKSHHSJWJE