#having this space for u to talk to me and not have me interrupt

[rafesslxt]

unknown number

pt. 1/2

SUMMARY: not only you are surprised when you get a drunk text from your brother that you should pick him up from a party - Topper's just as shocked as you are.

WARNINGS: Thornton!reader, brothers best friend trope, bickering, tension, quick deep talk with Topper

WORD COUNT: 1,7k

NOTE: english is not my first language | thank‘s to everyone for reading and supporting, comments and - are highly apprecaiated <3

🥥 🍋‍🟩 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓇼 🥭 🍍

Your body tried to make its way through the sweaty crowd dancing and drinking around you, the air thick with the scent of weed and expensive perfume. This wasn't on your agenda for tonight, getting your drunk brother out of a party, that's for sure.

"Hey sis, can u get me? I'm drunk as hell."

You weren't surprised, though. After Sarah had ditched him for John B, which was more than understandable for you but hey – Topper never wanted to listen to your advice, he seemed to try drowning the pain and hurt ego away by drinking and smoking.

The house you currently were in was familiar to you. Since Sarah's your best friend you spend a lot of time here but never during these party's, cause most of the time Rafe was the host and well - let's just say you tried to avoid any chance of being in a room with him together.

Because besides the hatred for their sister's trying to live the pogue life, Topper and Rafe had one thing more in common. They fell for the sister of their best friend. The only problem was, that Rafe never acted on his feeling. While Topper may be a complete idiot, he at least showed Sarah some kind of feelings, trying to wrap her around his fingers. But for Rafe? Bickering and hating was his way.

But Rafe apparently had a new way of drawing you into his space.

"Hey, did you see Topper?" You asked a guy which's name you could never remember no matter how often your brother tried to tell you. You just knew he often hang with them together. "No, sorry. Ask Rafe, he was with him a while ago." You instantly rolled your eyes but smiled at him and nodded in a way that was supposed to tell him 'thank you'.

You made your way further through the people until you reached the living room where you saw Rafe sitting on the couch, talking to two girls on either side of him.

Not bothering that you may interrupted something, you walked up behind him, not even caring enough to wait until he might realize you were standing behind him. "Have you seen my brother? He told me to come pick him up."

You looked down at his head which bend until it laid against the backrest, his pretty blue eyes meeting yours. Pretty ? No, you meant blue. Just blue.

"Oh If it isn't the princess of the Pogues, gracing us with her presence this night.", his voice dripped with sarcasm. "And to what do we owe this unexpected visit?" You rolled your eyes at his irritating words and crossed your arms in front of your chest. "Did you see Topper, Rafe?", you repeated.

His smile widened before he sat upright again, took a beer that was probably his from the desk, turned around and locked eyes with you again, walking around the couch towards you.

"Someone's in a grumpy mood today." he remarked, taking a sip of his beer. "Rafe If you don't-" "No need to be so uptight princess. The party just stared." You scoffed. "Well, apparently not If my brother's texting me to come pick his drunk ass up."

"Give him some time, he's trying to heal from a heartbreak. I mean I told him my sister is never hanging around for long but- well you know him. Had to try for himself."

You were slowly getting tired of the conversation and Rafe seemed to notice. "And as for where your brother is; I saw him with Kelce in the kitchen a few minutes ago. Just before you arrived, I think."

Without giving him a second more of your time, you turned around, walking towards the kitchen. Why didn't he just tell you 'Hey, Topper is in the kitchen.' ? Why does he always have to bicker with you and beat around the bush. Ugh.

Sarah always said he liked you but before Rafe Cameron actually had serious feelings for you or even anyone, hell would freeze over.

You walked into the kitchen of the Cameron's, immediately spotting your brother and Kelce, laughing loudly between some shots they were taking.

"Wow. You're really setting the bar lower and lower." You scoffed, making their heads turn towards you. "Y/n? What are you doing here? Aren't you with your little friends?" "Oh, hey pipsqueak." Kelce chuckled from behind Topper, waving at you with a drunken grin.

"Come on Topper, I don't have all night." I sighed, already about to leave the kitchen when he looked at me as If I had torn apart his favorite teddy bear apart that he hid under his bed whenever someone came over. "What the hell are you talking about?" "What the hell do you mean what the hell I'm talking about? You texted me to come pick you up because you're too drunk."

Just as he was about to answer, Rafe entered the kitchen and stood beside you. "Topper, why don't you listen to your sister and go with her, you've had enough for tonight."

Feeling betrayed, Topper was too stunned to speak, looking at Kelce for some backup. "Hey man don't get me into this." he replied to his look, throwing up his hands and spilling some of the liquid that was inside his shot glass.

"I didn't text you!" he exclaimed, reached into his pocket and searching for his phone. "Shit.. can't find it." You rolled your eyes, your patience slowly but clearly wearing off. "Topper.." "I swear I didn't!", he swore while continuing to search the insides of his few pockets. "Damn no really, where is it?", he asked himself.

"Come on man." Kelce chuckled and threw an arm around his friend, slowly guiding him outside the kitchen and towards the front door where you parked your car.

You stepped aside to let them pass, your gaze landing on Rafe who was already looking at you, licking his bottom lip before speaking. "Here." He reached into his pocket and handed you Topper's phone. "What? Why do you have my brother's phone ?", you asked him, as It didn't hit you yet what was going in.

"Thought he might need someone to pick him up before he would be a complete mess.", he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and looking away for a short moment.

Your eyebrows shot up as the realization finally hit you."You texted me to come pick him up? Why would you do that?" He chuckled and looked down at you. " Like I said; I was worried about my friend." "Bullshit.", you called him out right away. "If you were worried about him, you would have told me where he was instead of beating around the bush."

"Just wanted some conversation." he replied simply, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes while doing so, trying not to let him get under your skin. It would only please him.

"Good night, Rafe." you smiled at him before turning around and pushing through sweaty crowd again, reaching your car where Kelce and Topper were already waiting for you.

You pressed the little button on your car key, allowing them to get in while you were still a few meters away. Kelce jumped into the back seat, and Topper settled next to you in the front.

You slid behind the wheel and closed your door, glancing over your shoulder at Topper’s friend. “Should I drive you home too?” you asked, reaching for your seatbelt and securing it right after.

“Sure thing, pipsqueak,” he grinned, his eyes heavy and his body slumping down onto the back seat. You rolled your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the last thirty minutes and started the engine, pulling away from the property.

A few minutes into the drive, you looked over to your right. “You’re lucky. Mom and Dad aren’t home tonight,” you smirked slowly, trying to lighten the mood since he was still your annoying brother. Annoying, but family.

A scoff escaped his lips as he stared out the window. “As if they’re ever home.” 

You sighed quietly, shrugging your shoulders. “Well, it’s still better than having to explain why you’re drunk and high.” 

“They wouldn’t understand anyway. They never do. All they do is scream and complain. They don’t care.” He turned his head toward you, studying your face. “But honestly, I don’t know which one of us they’re more disappointed in,” he chuckled.

“Yeah… Mom’s worried I’m drinking myself into a coma, while Dad is worried you’ll run off with Maybank or some other pogue.” The car fell silent for a moment before you both erupted into unexpected laughter. 

"Honestly, I don’t know which one is worse,” you giggled, gripping the wheel a little tighter as you turned onto your street. "Not sure who's setting the bar lower now, huh?" Topper smirked.

“I guess we should take him with us tonight before his parents have a heart attack,” you suggested, nodding toward Kelce, who was snoring in the back seat.

“Yeah…” he glanced at his friend and then back at you. “Thank you for picking me up, even though I didn’t text you. It’s good to know I can still count on you.” He smiled softly at you, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"No problem, Topper." you smiled back at him before turning off your car and finally parked in your garage. "Let‘s get him inside.", you grinned, eager to get out like Topper, when your phone suddenly vibrated in your purse.

Hm, probably the pogues asking If everything‘s alright after you left so quick with only telling them it‘s an 'family emergency'.

You opened your little white purse Sarah had given you on your last birthday and rummaged through it, fishing out your phone. You had a few messages from JJ and Sarah, asking you when - wait.

What was that? A message by an unknown number.

unknown number

i took the liberty of grabbing your number while I had the chance to.

was nice seeing you tonight, hot and bothered like always..

sweets dreams, angel.

xx rafe

That son of a - wait, why were you smiling together with your heart beating faster ?

masterlist | taglist | navigation | valentines day special

tags: @supernaturaldawning @cardibre91 @aegonsslxt @juliet-017

xoxo sarah <3

[lovelyrotter]

re my dumb tag ramble in my last post i guess it boils down to the bullshitery that is someone saying they dont eat. idk. donuts, bc they just dont like them, but then weighing in and butting into conversation about donut history and ppls right to eat donuts w/o getting shamed or called greedy or lustful or whatever, to just loudly declair that YOU dont eat donuts and youd rather eat LETTUCE instead and that you think donuts are kinda gross anyway. to a room full of people who enjoy donuts, or have otherwise complicated feelings about donuts. or used to be shamed for liking donuts and are just now coming back to letting themselves enjoy donuts safely. or used to be terrified of eating any kind of pastry bc of something in their past, and are only just now realizing that donuts arent scary at all and that they actually really like them! or people who like both donuts and lettuce at the same time and feel torn between liking these two things bc team donut shames them for liking lettuce and team lettuce shames them for liking donuts, and you screaming about just wanting lettuce in a donut-centric space is making them very nervous. if u say u dont sit at the donut-eating table and dont WANT to sit at the donut-eating table then dont get upset when ur opinion abt eating donuts isnt taken as the most prioritized one. when we're specifically talking about people who want to and who enjoy the very personal/complex act of eating donuts in peace. if you, yknow, get what im putting down

[muniimyg]

♡ 02: how you talk so sweet when you're doin' bad things

series m.list // taglist

note: ahh !!! thank u all for all the love with pt 1 :) drama begins in pt 3 !!! enj their good moments while it lasts (aka this pt) lmk what u think of their dynamic & if u have any predictions for whats to cum ;) HAHAH mwaaa

also !! happy birthday @jkslvsnella 🌟 thank u for always reading and loving my work 💛

warnings: mean!jk exposes oc (she's a virgin) ,, banter

//

the dim neon lights of the arcade cast a playful glow over the group as they gather by the bar. laughter and overlapping chatter fill the air, but jungkook’s eyes dart toward the entrance, scanning every face that walks in.

he blinks, trying to recenter himself.

why the fuck is he waiting for you?

“do you guys want to play a hoop shoot round?” yoongi suggests, leaning lazily against the counter. “loser buys the next round.”

the guys snicker but agree. without much discussion, they begin heading toward the games, but jungkook lingers behind, hesitating to speak.

there’s a weird feeling that stirs inside him.

he wants to stay and wait for you—wants everyone to stay and wait for you (though he knows how ridiculous that sounds).

his mouth opens, about to call them back, when—

“___!” jimin’s voice cuts through the noise. “over here! great timing!”

jungkook stiffens, tilting his head and clearing his throat as he notices you walking in.

you weave through the scattered crowd, waving casually to the group. your jacket hangs lazily off one shoulder, your hair is slightly windswept, and your lips are parted, like you’re already preparing some half-assed excuse.

“you’re late,” jungkook mutters, his tone sharp as you greet the others with warm hugs and him with a smug smile.

“no shit, mr. know-it-all,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes before awkwardly shifting closer to him for a quick, half-hearted hug.

he doesn’t even unfold his arms, patting your back stiffly—once, twice, three times.

“whatever.”

“didn’t know you took attendance. god, what don’t you do?”

“be late,” he quips, voice clipped.

you scoff, pulling away and swatting his chest. “nerdy of you, but whatever. we all have to accept our flaws one day. acknowledging them is the first step, or so they say.”

“it’s courtesy to show up on time,” he snaps, leaning casually against a nearby pinball machine. his eyes rake over you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle he’s losing patience for. “figured you’d get lost or trip over your own feet.”

“oh, bite me,” you retort, stepping closer and crossing your arms. “maybe find something better to do than waiting for me, hmm? something better to do than—”

before you can finish, a rowdy group stumbles toward the air hockey table behind you, shoving their way through the already cramped space.

jungkook moves without thinking, his hands firm on your waist as he pulls you aside and switches places with you.

“move,” he says bluntly, his grip barely lingering before he steps away again.

you freeze, your words dying in your throat. the touch—the casual way he did it, the way his hands fit so naturally—throws you off. your heart stutters for reasons you can’t quite name.

“what are you—”

“you’re in the way,” he interrupts, already back to leaning against the pinball machine like nothing happened.

“shit, jungkook,” you manage, trying to sound unaffected. “you can’t just move me like that. i almost thought you cared about me.”

“would you rather get knocked into the air hockey table?” he says flatly. “didn’t think so.”

you narrow your eyes at him, brushing past whatever just passed between you.

“fine,” you say with exaggerated calm, stepping away. “thank you… i guess.”

“what was that?”

“i said what i said.”

“say it again.”

“no.”

“don’t make me beg for something i deserve,” he groans, his tone a mix of mock irritation and teasing.

you roll your eyes. “sure… i’ll say it again—for the right price.”

“oh?” his brow lifts, and he’s already following after you. “how much are you charging these days?”

you turn back to glare at him, making a face as he smirks.

what you don’t see, what no one else notices, is how closely jungkook walks behind you as you move through the crowd. his hand hesitates near your waist again before he drops it, settling instead for angling his body, subtly shielding you from the chaos of the arcade.

it’s instinctive, unconscious—a quiet sort of care that he’d never admit to. but it’s just how jungkook is when you aren’t looking.

the air buzzes with the sounds of arcade games—buzzers, dings, and conversation on top of conversation. by now, the group has gravitated towards the hoop-shoot machines, their competitive banter echoing as they took turns missing shots.

when nam joon’s ball bounces dramatically off the rim, nearly taking out jimin, they all collapse into laughter.

"okay, okay!" taehyung claps his hands. "before anyone gets concussed, let's take a group photo!"

everyone gathers in front of the machines, huddling close together. you find yourself standing beside jungkook, his towering figure crowding your space as the guys shuffle to fit into the frame.

“move in,” jin calls out, holding up his phone. “no dead space.”

before you can step away, taehyung and yoongi each grab one of your shoulders, pushing you into jungkook’s side. his arm brushes yours, and when you glance up, he’s already rolling his eyes.

"stop squirming," he mutters.

"stop breathing down my neck," you bite back, earning a stifled laugh from yoongi.

“not my fault you’re short as fuck.”

“what about me do you not have a problem with, nerd?”

just as jungkook is about to tell you off, hobi hits his stomach and hisses at him. 

“shut the fuck up, smile, and—”

hobi bumps his hip with jungkook’s, causing him to lean closer to you. your head tilts and so does his. he clears his throat as he regains his balance. you continue to smile, pretending not to notice him looking at you. 

as the group poses, jin snaps several photos before pulling the phone down to review the shots. as everyone leans in to check the screen, a chorus of teasing begins.

"aw, look at that!" taehyung says, his grin spreading like wildfire as he leans closer to the phone screen. "this is a moment for the scrapbook. you two look so cute together."

the corner of jimin’s mouth twitches as he leans over taehyung’s shoulder, squinting at the photo before letting out a dramatic gasp.

“wait, is this… is this our it couple debuting right here? how did we miss this? it’s always those fucking enemies to lovers stories that hit… this could be it. oh my god!"

yoongi, not one to miss a beat, smirks from the side. 

“don't need to start. pretty sure the fanbase already exists.”

jin snorts. “don’t expose our late night conversations, bro. that’s our special bonding time.”

yoongi hisses at jin, smacking the back of his head for saying it so weird. 

"someone call dispatch," nam joon adds, cackling. "they're going viral as we speak."

"you’re joking,” you groan, face already warming as the guys snicker. “stop acting like it’s some movie poster. it’s just a group picture and—look at that! jungkook is looking at me like i’m stinky.”

“you are stinky.” jungkook scoffs.

you shove him playfully. “shut up.”

“oh no, it’s definitely poster-worthy,” jimin chimes in, nudging jungkook’s arm as he grins like a proud parent. "you can practically feel the sparks flying. jungkook’s over there pretending to hate it, but look at his hand. hovering like it’s meant to be."

"right?” hobi quips. “look at the way he’s leaning into her—”

jungkook glares. “hyung, you pushed me—”

“—bro’s living the rom-com life and doesn’t even know it.” hobi finishes. 

"yeah," yoongi deadpans, his lip curling in a mock-serious expression as he gestures vaguely at the photo. "what trope are you guys?”

"trope?" you snort, shooting a glance at Jungkook. “that’s going too far. i can’t be associated with him to that point. even angels like me have limits..”

"awh, don't ruin it," jimin teases. “you two look like you were made to stand next to each other. it’s fate, ___.”

"fate?" jungkook finally chimes in, his brow quirking as he scoffs. “more like bad luck. uglyass picture, by the way. jump-scare. trigger-warning. photoshop her out, please.”

his words are sharp, but the teasing rolls on, taehyung clapping jungkook on the back as he leans in closer. 

“don’t fight it, man. just admit it—you’re glowing.”

“you’re drunk.” jungkook grumbles, crossing his arms.

but even as he tries to brush it off, you catch the way his jaw ticks, the way his ears turn a faint shade of red. it almost makes you want to keep the teasing going.

almost.

you stretch over and take a proper look. 

your shoulders are pressed against jungkook’s, his hand awkwardly hovering near your back as if unsure where to put it. it’s ridiculous, but you decide to lean into the joke.

“awh,” you say, nudging him with a smirk. “wait. we do look cute together. look at you—nerdy boy finally getting close to the pretty girl. must be the highlight of your life.”

jungkook’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you think he might just let it slide. But then, his eyes narrow, and the smugness in his tone cuts deeper than you expect.

“yeah?” he says, his voice low and dripping with sarcasm. “because the pretty girl who’s still a virgin at twenty-four is such a catch, right? must be fun carrying the weight of no guy ever wanting that kind of pressure.”

the air stills.

“what?” jungkook asks, unsure of why everyone’s mood suddenly shifted. “guys, we don’t need to hold ___’s hand for this. her situationships aren’t real. no guy wants her and it’s because of all her fucking issues… so don’t tease me about shit like that. why would i want her? she’s too fucked up.”

your heart sinks as the laughter dies around you, the guys exchanging awkward glances. you force a tight smile, shrugging as if the jab didn’t just land in the worst way possible.

“ha… ha… yeah. sure. what he said,” you mutter, slipping out of the group without looking back.

you weave through the crowd, the din of the arcade becoming background noise to the rush of your thoughts. yoongi and nam joon sigh and excuse themselves to follow you. 

“fuck,” taehyung groans at jungkook. “for a nerd, you aren’t that smart."

jungkook throws his head back.

"okay, fine. i went too far."

taehyung forces a laugh and pats jungkook's shoulder. "i just... i don't why do you always shit the bed when it comes to ___. would it kill you consider her feelings once in a while?"

"she started it—"

"we started it," taehyung corrects him. "you fuck it up and then we have to fix it. why can't we start it and you figure it out?"

"what's there to figure out?"

taehyung sighs.

"seriously, what's there to figure out?" jungkook repeats, his voice rough with frustration, though there’s a slight tension in his jaw, as if he’s trying to keep himself in check.

taehyung runs a hand through his hair like he’s had this conversation a million times before. “you overthink everything, man. just… talk to her. it’s not that hard.”

jungkook scoffs. "i talk to her."

"yeah right," taehyung shoots back, now leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing with a mixture of concern and exasperation. "she isn't gonna stick around forever... especially with all the shit you pull. is it that hard to show that you care for her? even just a little bit? you can even fake it for all we care... just... stop doing this. stop fucking it up."

jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but then he just...

doesn’t.

he falls silent, his gaze drifting over to where you’re standing, still laughing with yoongi, oblivious to the conversation happening behind her. his expression softens for a moment, but the tension doesn’t fully leave his shoulders.

“... i don’t know what to say to her,” jungkook mutters after a long pause, his voice quieter this time, almost vulnerable.

taehyung rolls his eyes, his voice taking on a teasing edge again.

"i'm not asking you to be perfect," taehyung says, his tone suddenly serious. "i just want you to try.”

jungkook's eyes narrow, but he doesn’t argue.

he knows taehyung’s right.

and the idea of trying—really trying—is both terrifying and somehow comforting. it’s just a matter of taking the first step.

"alright, alright. i get it." jungkook sighs, running a hand through his hair. "but if i mess it up again…"

“you will,” taehyung says with a grin, smacking him on the back. “and when you do, we’ll be here to clean up your mess.”

jungkook groans. "great. thanks. god, you guys are impossible."

taehyung just laughs, clapping him on the shoulder.

"that’s what friends are for."

“that one’s cute,” you say softly, pointing to a pastel plushie trapped inside the glass case. “but aren’t these things rigged?” 

yoongi glances at the plushie, then back at you, offering a faint smile. “hello kitty? can’t you just buy it in store?”

“it’s different.”

“how so?”

“winning it is better. means more.”

he laughs at you. ruffling your hair, he asks; “think you can win it?”

“probably not,” you admit with a dry laugh, rubbing the back of your neck. “i suck at these things.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook has followed, lingering a few steps behind. 

he watches quietly as you and yoongi chat, his arms folded across his chest, his usual cocky posture softened just enough to give off a more contemplative vibe. his gaze shifts to the hello kitty plushie you pointed out, taking in every detail—the soft pastel fabric, the little bow. 

his jaw tightens.

for a second, he looks almost… distant. something flickers across his face—a mix of regret, maybe? or determination? it’s hard to tell, and he’s quick to push the thought aside. he can’t figure out why this damn hello kitty plushie is bothering him, but it does.

his hands shift in his pockets, fingers brushing against the cool edges of his arcade card. the sound of you and yoongi laughing lightly as you move on to a different machine pulls him out of his trance. 

he’s still standing there, staring at the claw machine, his mind reeling.

get it together, he tells himself. it's a stupid fucking hello kitty plushie.

but as the two of you move further away, jungkook finds his feet taking him toward the claw machine. his body moves on its own, a subtle, almost unconscious determination settling into his posture. he steps up to the machine, his heart thumping a little louder than usual.

with a quick flick of his wrist, he taps the arcade card to the screen, paying for a round. The soft beep of the machine filling the air is oddly satisfying. he glances at the claw, watches it shift slightly in the plastic case, and his mind sharpens. the whole world narrows down to this one moment—the claw, the plushie, and the stupid, ridiculous thought that maybe, just maybe, it would mean something.

he leans in a little closer to the machine, his focus narrowing as his fingers hover just over the controls. his chest tightens, just a little.

but there’s something about this—about trying—that feels...

new.

almost like he's playing for something that’s not just a game.

as the arcade starts to empty out, the night comes to an end.

the group begins to break into separate plans. some were heading out for more drinks, the usual late-night crowd craving more chaos, while others, like you and jungkook, were heading home. yoongi, standing beside you both, clapped jungkook on the shoulder and offered a casual “see you later,” his eyes lingering a moment too long on the tension that still hung between you two.

by now, jungkook had tried to apologize multiple times throughout the night. too many times to count—but each time, you’d brushed him off, walking away before he could finish his words.

it was the same pattern that had played out earlier, with him following close behind, trying to make up for whatever had gone wrong, but you’d always managed to slip out of his reach, words left unsaid and apologies unacknowledged.

as you stepped outside into the crisp night air, the glow of neon signs casting faint colors over the sidewalk, you took a deep breath. the cool wind ruffled your hair, and you tucked a stray strand behind your ear, eyes darting to the ground, avoiding jungkook’s gaze.

“my hinge crush of the week wants to meet up… so, bye!” jimin called out, adjusting his jacket as he moved toward the waiting uber.

the others offered their farewells, the air filled with laughs and promises to meet again soon.

jungkook is quiet, his eyes still on you, a knot of frustration building in his stomach.

as you’re about to turn away, he finally speaks. his voice is soft but firm.

“can i drive you home?”

you don’t even look at him, a slight shake of your head as you took a step back.

“i’m good. thanks for the offer.”

he takes a slow step forward, determination flashing in his eyes.

“shit, ___. come on, don’t be like that. it’s late. i’m not letting you walk home alone.”

“i’m fine,” you reassure him again, taking another step away. “they’re all gone. you can stop pretending you care—w-whoa—“

but as you turn to leave, the way you step gets caught on a loose patch of pavement, and before you can stop yourself, you stumble forward. your heart lurches in your chest as your body lurches toward the ground. 

but a strong and steady hand grips your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest.

“fuck, watch your step—” jungkook mutters, his voice lower now, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place in it. his grip tightened just enough to keep you from stumbling again.

you freeze for a second, your breath catching as his fingers brushed against your side, his body warm against yours. the shock of his touch sent a strange shiver down your spine, but before you could react, his voice comes again, this time with a soft but unmistakable smirk.

“you’re all out of choices now.”

his words hang in the air as he takes your waist, gently but firmly guiding you toward his car. the playful edge in his voice made your stomach flip.

he doesn’t wait for a response.

he pulls you closer as you walk together. 

you want to pull away. 

you want to protest, but something about the way he holds you—steady, unwavering—makes it impossible to do anything but follow. 

so, you give in. 

you slide into the passenger seat of jungkook’s car, the leather cold against your legs as you settle in. the familiar scent of his cologne fills the small space, mixing with the faint scent of his car’s interior. before you can even close the door, jungkook is already moving to the driver’s side, slipping in next to you with practiced ease.

he turns the key, the engine rumbling to life, and immediately, he leans over to help you with your seatbelt. his hand brushes against yours, sending a strange flutter through your chest as his fingers fumble with the latch, and you try not to think too much about how gentle his touch is.

“thanks,” you mumble, turning your head toward the window, avoiding his gaze. 

the tension between you two still lingers, thick and heavy, but neither of you says anything, and soon the quiet hum of the engine fills the air instead.

the drive starts out like most others, the city lights blinking past the windows as jungkook takes a turn, his hands steady on the wheel. but then, as the cool night air seeps in through the slightly cracked window, you suddenly feel the chill of the evening air hit your skin, a shiver running down your spine.

you don’t even have to say anything. without a word, jungkook pulls off his jacket, glancing over at you. 

“you cold?” he asks, his voice low, almost concerned, but his eyes are still focused on the road.

before you can respond, his white jacket is draped over your shoulders like a blanket. 

it’s warm, soft—still holding the faint trace of his warmth—and for a moment, you find yourself frozen, not sure whether you should pull it off or accept the comfort. but it’s his gesture, the way he’s silently taking care of you, and the faint thought that maybe he’s not such an ass after all, that makes you just pull the jacket tighter around yourself, not saying anything.

the silence stretches on, with only the sound of his car’s engine and the soft tunes filling the air, low music that drowns out everything else.

it’s a little uncomfortable. 

a little too close. 

and yet, somehow, you don’t mind it.

minutes pass, and you can’t help but notice how the buildings are getting fewer, how the city streets are slipping behind, and suddenly, it hits you—he’s not turning into your neighborhood.

“wait,” you finally speak up, your voice sounding strangely foreign in the quiet car. “you just passed my place.”

he doesn’t even glance over at you, just keeps driving, his eyes focused on the road ahead. 

“i know.”

“then where are you going?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, but a flicker of annoyance laces your tone. “jungkook, what the hell?”

“the only way for you to talk to me,” he says, his voice calm but with a touch of something else beneath it. 

something you can’t quite place.

“what?” you blink, confusion clouding your thoughts. “this is considered kidnapping.”

jungkook chuckles, the sound low and almost playful.

“only way for you to talk to me, like i said.”

you narrow your eyes at him, a mix of frustration and something else building inside you. 

“you’re seriously driving me around for what, exactly? to waste gas? to waste your time?”

“to wait for you.”

“oh my god,” you stress. “you and your fucking words.”

he smirks. “are they working?”

you gulp. 

“come on, ___. act like a bitch all night, i don’t care… but you’re gonna talk to me.”

you’re quiet for a moment, staring out the window, watching the city blur past. the absurdity of the situation sinks in, but it’s also hard to ignore the fact that you’re starting to feel a strange sense of... comfort in his presence.

“fine,” you finally say, voice quiet but sharp. “what do you want me to say, huh? you’ve been apologizing all night and i’ve been brushing you off. you said what you said. it’s done.”

jungkook shifts in his seat, and for the first time, you notice how his grip tightens on the wheel, how his jaw clenches ever so slightly. 

“keep talking.”

“i’m done.”

“no,” he insists. “i don’t care what you say… i just need you to talk to me, ___. that’s all.”

you don’t respond right away, not sure how to react to that admission, or if it’s even true. but the way his words hang in the air, the sincerity behind them, makes you want to crack open. 

makes you want to say something—anything—but the walls are still up.

“do you want me to fuck you or something?” 

your eyes widen and your throat goes dry. 

what the fuck did he just say?

“excuse me?” 

jungkook then pulls over, parking his car at some random street. his car lights and the lamppost nearby are the only light sources… but that doesn’t stop you from knowing how close he is to you. you don’t need much light—you feel it. you feel his presence. 

“is that why your panties are in a twist? you need dick or something? you’ve been acting weird since you overheard me fucking—”

“i don’t want to know her name.” 

jungkook blinks at you. 

“... so you are bothered by her.”

you pause. 

“n-no. no, i’m not. it’s just… weird. i don’t want to know because i don’t want to know.”

“okay,” jungkook nods. “can i know something then?”

you hesitate. 

“do you forgive me yet? i… i fucked up. i’m sorry, __. seriously. that wasn’t cool of me.” 

you take a breath in. 

“i forgive you,” you admit. “but be honest with me. did you mean it?”

jungkook shakes his head profusely. 

“no,” he confesses. “no, i didn’t mean it. i think it’s cute that you’re a virgin—”

“stop!” you cry, throwing your hands to cover your face. “shut up.”

he laughs, finding your panic a little cute. 

“what? you never get horny?” 

you drop your hands, completely dumbfounded at how this conversation has unfolded in a matter of minutes. 

“i do,” you tell him. 

“with what? with who?” 

you tilt your head and squint at him. 

“curious?”

“disgusted, actually.” he mocks you. 

you can’t help but let out a laugh.  

then, a silence falls upon you two. 

but… it’s an okay kind. the kind where you two aren’t mad at each other and everything is truly lighthearted. it’s a rare kind of atmosphere for you two share. 

the tension that had once been suffocating now feels more like a slow burn, simmering quietly in the space between you. it’s strange, this shift. but it’s also... comforting.

in a way, it’s like stepping onto solid ground after floating in the middle of an ocean for too long.

you glance over at jungkook, his profile soft in the dim light from the streetlamps. his fingers are gripping the steering wheel lightly, his knuckles slightly pale, like he’s trying to keep himself grounded too. he’s not saying anything, but his presence is loud. in some ways, that’s all you need. 

that he’s here. 

that you’re both here, together, after all the back and forth, all the words exchanged, the small cracks and the moments of silence.

the question comes out before you can stop it, and you almost want to take it back the second it leaves your mouth. 

but you’re already committed. 

"think i could do it?" you say, voice softer than you intended, more vulnerable than you meant.

jungkook shifts in his seat slightly, his eyes flicking toward you.

“do what?"

"get you to want me?"

for a split second, you think you’ve gone too far. 

jungkook is quiet for a long time, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. it’s like he’s weighing the question, figuring out if you mean it. if it’s just some fleeting thought, or if you’re really standing here, raw and honest, in the middle of it all.

and then he speaks, his voice low but steady, a hint of something in it that you can’t quite place.

“why would you want that?”

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure of how to respond. but then you think about it, really think about it. 

"i don’t know."

the vulnerability is almost too much, too raw. 

it feels like every inch of you is laid bare, exposed in a way you weren’t sure you could handle. you stare at your hands, anything to avoid the intensity of his gaze, but it’s there, lingering in the quiet air between you. it fills the space, like you can feel every word left unsaid pressing against your chest.

jungkook doesn’t say anything right away, the silence stretching long enough that you start to wonder if maybe you said the wrong thing. maybe you pushed too far, too fast.

but then, he speaks.

"wanna find out?"

his voice is low, almost teasing, but there's something else there too—something that makes your heart skip a beat. 

you glance up at him, your eyes meeting his again, and you realize in that moment that this is where it all comes together. the question, the hesitation, the rawness of it all. 

he’s not pulling away, not like you expected.

he’s waiting…

for you.

[onlygarden]

[can i watch?] - park sunghoon

genre: smut, some fluff

description: when your boyfriend walks into the bathroom just before you're about to shave your intimate parts, he decides he needs to watch you.

sunghoon x female reader, unprotected sex, shower sex, dom sunghoon, sunghoon is down bad for reader and can barely control himself lmao (he's so cutie), sunghoon is a little rough 18+

a/n: i got this idea suddenly while i was shaving in the shower hehe i neeeeeded to bring it to life i hope u guys get me

you step into the humidity of the shower, the steam enveloping you and filling your pores. your body immediately warms. you allow yourself to fully relax as the hot water glides soothingly along your body. after washing up, your mind is plagued with the reminder of needing to shave, already feeling annoyed by the tedious task. didn’t i just shave not too long ago? why does body hair have to grow so fast? you think pointlessly to yourself. 

the sound of the bathroom door opening reaches your ears, and you peek around the shower curtain to see sunghoon brushing his teeth. he notices you, and immediately bites back a smile. 

“you’re gonna get water all over the rug, idiot,” he teases, the sound of his voice being muffled by his toothbrush making you giggle. 

you playfully scowl. “the curtain’s hardly open, idiot,” you respond, “and you’re gonna get toothpaste all over the floor if you keep trying to talk with a toothbrush in your mouth,” you jest. sunghoon laughs immediately, your playful smirk stretching into a wide smile following his infectious laughter. 

you close the curtain, and you can hear the subtle sounds of your boyfriend rinsing his mouth. a sudden, dramatic sigh travels through the bathroom. 

“why does it take you an eternity to shower?” he pokes jokingly. “are you not done already?” the shower curtain is promptly yanked open to allow your boyfriend enough space to point to his wrist playfully, signaling for you to hurry up. 

you can’t conceal your surprise at his sudden action, but you break into a fit of laughter at his silliness, pushing his body away and shutting the curtain. “you’re scum,” you tell him, as you continue to laugh. “don’t you have any manners?” when he begins speaking you can tell by the volume of his voice that he’s still close to the curtain. “after fucking you senseless so many times i figured you were cool with me seeing you naked,” he digs, anticipating your reaction with a smile on his face.

you peek your head outside of the shower once again, greeting sunghoon with repeated smacks to his chest before returning to the flow of warm water. sunghoon stumbles back a bit, letting out an ‘ah’ through his laughter as your hand thumped against him. 

 “what else do you even need to do? haven’t you finished washing up by now?” sunghoon asks from the other side of the curtain. how cute is he, getting impatient as your time in the shower interrupts your time with him. 

“i’ll be done soon, i just need to finish shaving,” you tell him, completely oblivious to the idea that appeared unexpectedly in your boyfriend’s mind. 

“can i watch?” he asks, an ill-fitting casual tone lacing his brazen words. 

what?

you’re wildly flustered by his sudden request. 

“why would you want to? i promise it’s not anything special,” you tell him, confused as to why he’d want to watch you do such a simple thing in the first place. he was probably expecting your intimate parts to be put on an alluring display, but it’s not like you ever looked irresistibly attractive while you shaved. 

“please just let me watch, i’ve always been curious about it,” he pleads, his hopes of convincing you to comply with his request resting in the sky. “anything you do is special. and sexy.” 

gosh. you sigh. how were you supposed to resist your precious boyfriend when he asked you like that? his curiosity towards the way you complete such a mundane function seemed genuine, anyway. 

you comply, although you make him understand the conditions of his request. 

“fine. but it won’t be sexy, just so you know. i’m just gonna shave in the same unflattering position that i always do.” 

sunghoon flings the shower curtain aside with excitement, looking directly into your eyes with a faint smirk dusting his features. god, he’s so attractive, you thought. you could just melt into a puddle under his gaze. 

“do i have to remind you that you’re always sexy, even when you aren’t trying to look sexy?” 

a wide smile crawls across your face, your lips utterly betraying you, and you bite your lip to prevent it from growing any further. “shut up,” you say, turning around to grab your razor, then sitting down with your back resting against the wall of the shower. 

sunghoon leans his shoulder against the wall near the shower, crossing his arms over his chest. his intense stare almost made you uncomfortable, but you remember his undeniable desire to watch you do this, and his enthusiasm assists you in relaxing. he was your boyfriend, after all. you were always candid around him. he’s seen you do everything, whether you felt attractive or not. 

you separate your legs, completely exposing the most intimate part of yourself in such a natural setting. sunghoon inhales sharply. 

you look up at him, noticing the sudden heaviness of his expression, his features tugged down by such a tempting display. his eyelids were notably lax. is he already starting to get turned on? 

upon noticing your gaze, his stare travels from your unshaven pussy to your eyes. 

“you ready for the show?” you joke, relieving a bit of the tension. i’ll end up hurting myself if i get turned on, too. sunghoon smiles a bit. “i’m stoked,” he replies with the same friskiness. 

you slightly adjust the way you were sitting to give yourself a proper view of each spot that needed your razor’s attention. you begin gliding the razor across the sensitive skin attentively, using your fingers to spread yourself as you needed. sunghoon’s eyes were stubbornly locked onto the scene in front of him. 

the way your fingers moved across your pussy, although you weren’t trying to pleasure yourself it still drove him insane. blood began rushing to his cock and the speed of his breathing steadily increased. he throbbed in his sweatpants. you enthralled him. he almost couldn’t take it. why would he ask to be tortured like this? idly watching you, pussy exposed, as you casually glided the razor and your fingers across your delicate skin. 

god he was so turned on. he struggled to contain his predatory cravings while you carefully shaved yourself, since he didn’t want you to end up getting hurt. still, he needed you painfully. 

“babe, finish up,” sunghoon suddenly says, voice deep and breathless. your pussy throbbed a bit at the desperation in his voice, and with the way you were fully exposed before him, you know he must’ve noticed it. 

“i’m almost done, baby. just one more thing,” you say tenderly. 

his awestricken gaze remains attached to you as you suddenly stand up. he impatiently slips off his shirt, wanting to be ready to latch onto you when you’re finally finished. 

you turn your body around, sunghoon’s eyes immediately traveling the expanse of your bare shoulders, moving to the curves of your waist, and utterly basking in the plumpness of your lovely behind. your skin burned as you could feel his intense stare. 

although you were never uneasy around sunghoon, what you were about to do next made you a bit too bashful to face him. 

you spread your ass apart to shave the space in between, wanting to make sure all your intimate parts were perfectly smooth. sunghoon’s mouth falls open slightly in astonishment, and he exhales heavily, eyes fluttering in a faint manner. did you enjoy torturing him? 

hearing his reaction, you’re quite surprised that he actually found your actions sexy, but you weren’t complaining in the slightest. 

sunghoon was so aroused he felt like he could explode. the fight against his inner desire to touch you is increasing rapidly in difficulty. he quickly removes his sweatpants and boxers, his painfully solid cock springing free, already dripping in anticipation of being sheathed inside your heavenly pussy. 

you rinse your razor off underneath the stream of the shower, and you quickly rinse your body to rid yourself of any tiny loose hairs. 

“all done,” you say, turning to look at sunghoon, the unobstructed sight of his naked body sending heat across your skin. 

he quickly joins you in the shower, shutting the curtain behind him and grabbing your hips with fervor. he pulls you towards him until his cock is poking at your stomach, and he walks forward until you thud against the shower wall. your hands reach his chest, gliding across the skin until they rest upon his shoulders. 

“you looked so fucking sexy doing that,” his hands begin to tighten around your hips as if he was starving, and you were the meal he was aching to devour. “it was so hard to stop myself from pushing you against the wall and fucking you until can barely speak,” he connects his lips with yours before you can even react to his crude words, and you can immediately feel the fierce, greedy arousal that had been welling up inside him. 

he shoves his tongue into your mouth, too hungry to play the slow and gentle game with you. he felt like he could burst at the seams. 

his hand moves from your hips to your pussy, his middle finger sliding eagerly between your folds, exploring and inspecting you to check if you were ready to take him. he just couldn’t take it. he’d never felt so impatient about anything in his life. 

he breathes out as you moan quietly into his mouth, your voice breaking and your volume suddenly increasing as he shoves his middle finger inside of you with haste. you grip the space between his neck and shoulder in desperation. 

he pulls his face away from yours to watch your features contort as he pumps his middle finger slowly inside of you. 

“you really this wet just from me looking at you?” his palm makes repeated contact with your clit, and his finger persistently skates along the spongy patch inside of you.  

“should i stretch you out some more? hm?” he asks, not truly expecting an answer. his ring finger glides directly beside his other digit, and his pumping grows rapid once both fingers are fully enveloped by your warmth. 

grabbing the back of your thigh, he pushes your leg up to gain a more generous angle. he admired as your pussy laid on display, just for him. just how he wanted it to be. 

your eyes nearly flutter shut, your face twitching in bliss as his fingers move in and out of you at a swift pace. his palm made contact with your clit each time his fingers rammed inside of you, and the way he stared menacingly into your eyes as he forced you open on his fingers entirely overwhelmed you. your eyes already burned with tears from the pleasure sunghoon piled onto you. 

he smirked down at you. how cute, he thought. 

“aw baby, are you already crying for me?” his fingers don’t falter as he speaks to you condescendingly. 

“is my cock gonna be too much for you?” you shake your head urgently, sunghoon’s skilled fingers sending your mind to an unimaginable state, beyond delirious. sunghoon lets out a satisfied chuckle before he speaks again. 

“i know it’s not. you’re just gonna take it however i give it to you.” as his words fall out of his mouth menacingly, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you dizzy and empty before lowering your leg. sunghoon already waited enough. he needed to be inside you. 

“turn around,” he says bluntly. you quickly oblige, never daring to question a request during sex with sunghoon. 

your hands rest against the slippery shower wall, and you feel sunghoon’s hands upon your hips again, pulling them back until he’s pleased with your position. twinged with desire for you, sunghoon’s hands find your ass and he spreads it apart, smacking it. how relieving was it that he could finally touch you the way he desperately wanted to as he watched you moments before. 

sunghoon kisses your back, causing you to twitch. his lips move to the side of your neck before grazing your ear, his nose sniffing your hair. he was intoxicated by everything about you. 

“need to know you’re ready for me,” he whispers, waiting for your approval before letting his impulses take control of him. 

“i’m ready, sunghoon.” you announce gently.

his length, unimaginably stiff with need, rams into you abruptly to the hilt. sunghoon takes a moment to revel in the fact that he’s finally surrounded by your pussy. your warm silky pussy was hugging him so snugly, and he’s never felt more compelled by anything in his entire lifetime. 

he starts ramming into you, punishing your insides with the ferocity and speed of his hips. his grip on your hips tightens to a painful measure, his nails digging into your skin, showing you just how hungrily he longed to bury himself into you, just how deprived he was of the pleasure you provided him with.

“hoon, slow down! too fast!” you moan out, barely finding the ability to speak due to the way he relentlessly tore through you. 

he continued the way he torturously snapped into you, not changing the way his hips moved in the slightest.

“you know i can’t, baby,” he breathes out, “just be a good girl and take it for me, like you always do.” as he continues his harsh dealing of your body, your moans begin to sound more like sobs. 

god, he was obsessed with it. 

“it’s ok baby, fuck, i know you can do it.” sunghoon was in bliss. there was no way he could stop now, especially when he knew you could handle it. sunghoon knows you well enough to recognize when you’re at your limit, and you still had more to give him.

“ah, fuck, you feel so fucking good baby.” sunghoon groans, using one hand to brace himself against the shower wall. you were absolutely falling apart underneath him. 

“so soft, so pretty for me,” he tells you, his brows furrowing as he surrenders himself entirely to your pleasure. he moves to attach his lips to your neck, and your mouth gapes open, your cries now struggling to leave your throat. 

“close, sunghoon,” you manage to tell him, and the way your name falls off his lips along with the uncontrollable moans you let out leaves him dazed. 

“oh god baby, me too,” he says, his voice strained. he returns his lips to your neck, breathy groans leaving him as he grows closer to spilling inside of you. 

his hand that rested on your hip glides along your stomach and down to your clit, rubbing rapid circles causing you to shove your hips back towards him. his lips detach from your neck as he moans deeply. you grab his forearm, pleading with him to take it easier on you, but he continues regardless. 

you cuss and stutter out sunghoon’s name as you cum, your body curling forward slightly, utterly overwhelmed by the blinding waves of pleasure coursing through you. you barely register sunghoon’s chants of “that’s it, baby,” as your eyes flutter and roll back, your body trying to handle the orgasm that sunghoon just gave you. 

the way your body shook and your pussy spasmed around his cock made sunghoon squeeze your hip brutally as he groaned, closing his eyes. he spilled inside you, his mouth falling open as deep, breathy moans fell from his lips in slow succession, the pace of his hips slowing to a complete stop. he furrowed his brows, astonished by the high that only you could give rise to.

he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burrowing his face into your neck as the both of you recovered. the feeling of his breath against your neck sent chills fiercely coursing through you. 

“god, you’re amazing,” he mumbles into your neck, placing his parted lips on the moist skin softly, his breath still hitting your neck with the wispiness of a feather. you smile, turning to glance back at him as his head lifts from the refuge of your skin. 

he pulls his length out of you slowly, now drenched in your essence having just been plunged inside of you. his length gradually leaves you empty as your pussy returns to it’s normal size, reminding you just how much he stretched you out. 

he turns your body around, moving his hands fondly along the curve of your waist, fingers satisfied by the smoothness of the trail they traveled. he pauses when he notices the prominent nail marks and bruises around your hips. you can recall the way he heedlessly attacked your hips while drilling into you, but you weren’t burdened by it at all. 

he frowns and shifts his eyes to meet yours. “i’m really sorry, baby, i didn’t realize,” he says regretfully. “are you hurt?” he asks with concern, hoping for a certain answer. the endless domain of his shiny brown eyes makes you melt, your adoration for him swelling within you. 

you smile a bit, shaking your head to convey your lighthearted perception of his actions. “hoon, i’m fine. it didn’t bother me one bit,” you assure him, pinching his cheek. 

his expression flips with a bright cheekiness at your admission. “yea, i could tell,” he pokes, beginning to dramatically mimic the sounds of your pleasured cries from moments ago. 

you gasp, lifting your fist to bash the side of it into his chest repeatedly. sunghoon laughs, his embarrassing mockery of you stopping as you began your onslaught. you push his giggling body off of you and pout in jest. you move past him to step towards the warm water, rinsing your sweaty body. 

you feel his hands drifting across your body again as he sweetly says, “here, let me wash you up.”

[0097linersb]

I See Red (m)

ONE SHOT

Pairings: San x Reader

Genre: Smut (basically pwp)

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: Jealousy, dom!San , he spits in your mouth at some point, slapping, choking, overstimulaton, edging, the whole deal really, name calling, oral, fingering - This is just pure filth I’m sorry. 

A/N: this was originally an nct jeno's fic but I thought it matched San so well so here u go

Follow me on twitter for updates, previews, spoilers: wooyosgfreal <3

You didn’t know what finally set San off.  

Sure, you haven’t been on your best behavior lately but it’s not like it was your fault; Ever since he decided to go on little gym dates with Yubin and just casually mentioned it to you one day, like he was talking about how sunny it was outside and not about how he was hanging out (almost daily) with a super hot girl, alone - and in minimal clothing too.

You couldn’t even trick yourself with “she’s not his type” because that woman was everyone’s type, damn, she was even your type.

It’s not like you didn’t trust him or felt insecure about yourself - it made no sense, really. It’s like people say: Jealousy is a little green monster that ate your insides and got you to unreason things. You just couldn’t help feeling slightly annoyed, you mean, try knowing your boyfriend is hanging out for hours with a blonde goddess with a six pack AND be happy about it.

So, since he decided to be a pain in the ass, you decided to become what you were born to be: His worst fucking nightmare.

But in all fairness, you didn’t know exactly what tipped him over the edge. It could have been you casually hanging with his roommates in the shortest skirt you could have possibly found, it could be the way you kissed Wooyoung (just a small peck) so the boy would stop playing around and annoying the others with his over-the-top signs of affection, it could even be the way you asked Seonghwa to massage your shoulders because you were in pain but too annoyed to ask your boyfriend for it. He sure must not have liked the way you were dancing with Mingi at the party last Friday or how he got home on Monday to you wearing one of Yunho’s shirts - but he was San, of course he said nothing about it. Plus, he knew you better than that.

It didn’t help when Wooyoung and Mingi asked what was going on between you two and you shared your boyfriend’s gym adventures, of course you could trust those guys to join in on making their friend’s life living hell. It was just open game then, Mingi playfully flirting with you and complimenting you whenever he could and Wooyoung teasing your boyfriend about it.You were always careful to not cross any lines, though. Only doing things that you knew weren’t actually going to upset San and would be perceived by him as one of your little games, which is what they were. You also kept it subtle and spaced out - which is why you were expecting to be playing for a long time, or at least for a bit longer than you actually did.

Your plans were ruined on Wednesday afternoon, when the black-haired boy came out of the shower to a Jung Yunho pulling you to sit on his lap, his arms going around you to show you how to play the video game. Your boyfriend quietly sat down next to you two, saying nothing and staring deeply at the Tv screen but, the look on his face and his clenched jaw were sending a shiver down your spine.

Damn you for refusing to have sex since you found out about San’s gym buddy, this pent-up frustration was not helping you at all.

Thanks to the distraction that was your boyfriend, you couldn’t focus on the race going on and lost at the easiest level, resorting to whining to Yunho, who simply patted your thigh in a comforting manner and let out a soft, “It’s ok, baby.”

Your pouting soon morphed into a face of shock and your little fit was interrupted as your boyfriend hastily stood up, groaning a “That’s it. Room, now!”

You looked up at him confusedly but not done with being annoying yet, you decided to try one last jab, sending him a challenging look, “I don’t really feel like it.”

San simply raised an eyebrow at you, his whole aura shifting, making you coward immediately under his cold gaze, “Care to repeat that?”

“I said- Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, move.”

You repeat what your boyfriend said in a mocking tone but obey, leaving an amused looking Yunho behind as you wondered where the fuck did all your confidence go to. You really couldn’t keep the character up when San lowered his voice - you liked playing with fire but you weren’t crazy enough to jump in it.

As you entered your boyfriend’s room, your heart was beating like crazy. You felt like a kid again: When you knew you did something wrong and your mother was about to punish you for it. The anxiety did not sit well with you, maybe you should start being nicer to the man.

“San, I-” You tried reasoning as soon as he entered the room, closing the door behind him.

“I don’t give a fuck, sit down.”

Damn.

You were happy to comply, legs getting wobbly as his strict tone had a weird effect on you. You sat on the edge of the bed and San was quick to stand up in between your legs, you tried to look anywhere but at him, but that was proven impossible as his hand softly but confidently grabbed your chin and tipped your head up so you were forced to stare at him like a deer stuck in head lights. You could hear your own pulse throbbing inside your ears. 

Well, no use acting all innocent now, you really did bring this upon yourself.

“Had fun?” He asked, his voice could cut you right open. You didn’t know what to answer, nervous of any extra consequences that may come if you did, but your silence was clearly not accepted as his grip on your jaw tightened, “Speak.”

“Yeah.”

He hummed, eyes slowly skimming over your face as his thumb softly brushed your cheek, “So pretty. Too bad you don’t know how to behave, huh? I think it’s about time for me to put you back in your place, don’t you agree?”

You close your eyes and enjoy the smooth circles he was tracing with his thumb, not sure where he was going with this - your heart was trying to leave this room, though, by the way it kept pounding against your ribcage- but knowing you wouldn’t get a lot of soft moments from this point forward.

“Did you think I would find it cute?” He sternly asked, his tone contrasting with the light touches on your face. He knew your answer to that and you knew he was just playing your cards, and well, it was working.

“No.”

“So you acted like a brat on purpose?” He tried giving you a chance, knowing you really had no way out of your own mess.

“At your service, sir,” You joked as you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood, maybe make the man laugh a bit so he would forgive you.

“Watch it,” He spat out and you kind of regretted saying it when his hand flew to the back of your head, pulling on your hair harshly so you were forced to look up.

Ok, San was mad mad.

His cold expression didn’t faze at the way you groaned in pain, neither did his grip on your hair as he bent down so his face would be right in front of yours as he warned, “You brought this upon yourself. Clothes off.”

You had it in you to fight a bit, but honestly, you were already aching between your legs and curious to know how all of this would unroll. You quickly undressed, leaving your panties on since he didn’t say anything about it, your eyes not leaving the floor as you did it. You then stared at your boyfriend, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for the next instructions. San simply looked at the place between his spread legs, signing where he wanted you. As you sat down, you noticed the man had placed the full body mirror he owned right in front of you while you were undressing.

Oh, boy.

You two locked eyes through the mirror and he calmly asked, “What’s the safe word?”

And that’s when your brain stopped working, knowing you had really fucked up. San has always been a little bit more on the rough side in bed, even kind of dominant sometimes, but never like this. You two had never used a safe word before. He noticed your struggle and suggested in a soft but strict tone, “Is Apple ok?”

“Yeah,” You muttered and he nodded in acknowledgement before harshly forcing your thighs open with his hands, making you gasp. His chest was pressed against your back, but you couldn’t feel his heart hammering crazy like yours was.

San slowly moved his hands higher up your thighs, getting goosebumps to erupt all over your body. He ever so lightly traced one single finger against your clothed slit as he said, eyes still locked with yours in the mirror, “I want you to watch yourself being a slut, maybe then you’ll be embarrassed and learn how to behave.”

You whined, not sure if it was at the tip of his finger barely grazing over your clit or at his words. Honestly, who the fuck was this man?

You could see the wet patch of fabric between your legs in the mirror and San caught you staring at it as his middle finger rubbed slow circles on you, only smirking at you in response, clearly satisfied with the effect he had over you.

It was embarrassing how quickly you were squirming under your boyfriend’s touches; your bottom lip was almost bleeding from how strongly you were biting it to keep your whines inside your mouth as you tried to move away from his finger because it was soon becoming too much. He was having none of it and his other hand firmly found its place  on your jaw once again as he grunted right into your ear, “Be a good girl for once and take it. We have barely started.”

You did whine at that, his stare not fading for one second as he tightened his grip on your face and pulled your head back to the front every time you tried to look away from the mirror.

“Look at you. I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re already a mess, what happened to all that attitude, huh?”

He was right, he had only touched you through your panties and you were already so close. Guess you really were all bark and no bite – But to be honest: You were dripping, your underwear was soaked and his finger drawing shapes against your clit just felt so good you didn’t care about your little personality problem at all.

Your thighs were quivering from the stimulation and when he sped up his movements they tried to fly shut, but his voice stopped you midway, “Don’t you dare.”

You grabbed the fabric from his pants harshly, “San, I’m-”

“Only talk when spoken to.”

This new side of San, his heavenly (or devilish) finger teasing you plus his hard dick throbbing against your lower back, got you spasming in record time. Your nails carving shapes on the skin of his thighs as your whole body shook when you orgasmed. San continued tracing your clit through your high, until you were jumping from sensitivity and whining at him to stop. He lightly pushed you so you would stand up and you struggled to comply with your shaky legs, but tried your best.

You stood in front of your boyfriend, expecting him to then order you to suck his dick or something and this would be all over with, but were surprised when he pulled your panties down your legs with delicate fingers. Goosebumps filled your skin again at the mere touch of his knuckles against your lower abdomen. It was weird how he touched you so softly while his eyes burned holes into you, you had never seen San so worked up before, you felt like he could explode at the wrong move of a finger from you.

He slowly kneeled in front of you, eyes locked in yours. His hands were on the back of your thighs and you felt cold and warm at the same time, nipples hard with the shivers that ran up your spine. San didn’t comment on your shaking frame, giving your clit a soft kiss as he stared up at you.

“San, I-“ You began, trying to inform your boyfriend you were too sensitive from just cumming.

“I’ll make you cum once for every time you flirted with someone this week, and now once more for disobeying me,” He simply informed before going back to work, tongue doing wonders against your swollen clit.

You cried out at his words.

The man pulled your legs slightly apart so he could go all in, his wet lips and warm tongue playing with you until the sensitivity turned into pleasure and you were entering a place of euphoria, trying to not moan too loudly since his roommates were right outside. He noticed you were trying to contain your noises and tskd, eating you out more fervidly. When it became too much again, your hands grabbed his hair for support, which only resulted in you receiving a firm look, “No touching. If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like one.”

Ouch.

You tried balancing on your feet, but your body was quivering at San’s ministration and he wouldn’t let you go. Not managing it anymore, you let your body fall to the front, supporting your hands on the bed, thanking the heavens your boyfriend didn’t complain about it. You wanted to tell him you needed his fingers inside of you but didn’t want to disobey his order once again, only letting moan after moan leave your lips. San simply looked animalistic kneeled in between your legs and you forced yourself to close your eyes, throwing your head back in pleasure.

You were not recognizing yourself but that thought was far from your worries as you released once again against his tongue, hand gripping  the sheets so tightly you were afraid of breaking your fingers. San stood up, holding your waist so you would do the same as you breathed hard, “This one was for rubbing yourself all over Mingi at Yeonjun’s.”

You could see the way San’s cock was throbbing against his pants, but he seemed to pay it no mind as he pushed you down into the bed on your back. He hovered over you, slightly brushing his lips against yours before telling you, “I’m giving you 10 seconds to recover.”

One, he counted out loud before kissing your cheek. Two, he mouthed just below your jaw. Three, he whispered and sucked on the side of your neck, making you twitch in bliss. Four, he licked your collarbone. Five, he kissed between your breasts, your back automatically arching. Six, he brushed his fingers against your hardened nipple, loving the sound of your mewls. Seven, he left an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach. Eight, he did the same to your navel, feeling your abdomen tense under his fingers.

Honestly, this was not helping you calm down at all. Shivering this much couldn’t be healthy.

On the count of nine, his nails scratched the inside of your thigh and on the count of ten, he plunged two fingers inside of you with no warning. You chocked around nothing, biting the back of your hand so you wouldn’t legit scream. You had never been so wet in your life and the way his fingers were slowly rubbing so good against your walls, had you out of your mind.

“Put your hand away, I want to hear you,” He ordered, eyes locked on the way his fingers disappeared inside of you. How did he even know you were biting on your hand?

He continued pumping and curling his fingers, speeding up when he felt your walls tightening. You started feeling your third orgasm approach you even faster than the first one, tensing your legs so you wouldn’t close them because of the sensitivity.

San smirked at you, “Look who’s being a good girl for once.”

You didn’t even care anymore, everything felt so good you couldn’t even remember your name and you were sure you sounded like a porn star, having no control over your voice. You were so close, knuckles white again at the force you were holding onto your pillow. So, so close.

And then it all stopped.

You whined loudly and San simply ordered, “Use my fingers.”

When you gave him a confused look, hoping you hadn’t understood what he said right, he nodded at you, “You heard me.”

You groaned and dropped back down, San easing three fingers into you and waiting still, patiently. This was humiliating but when he gave you a pointed look, you simply forgot about your pride and pushed yourself against his fingers until you were ready to explode again, and as promised, San didn’t do a thing, letting you make yourself cum only using his fingers. It didn’t take long, considering how fucked out you were already (and you weren’t even actually fucked yet). A few more bounces and you were done for, wanting to cry at how good it felt.

“This one was for getting my friends hard, prancing around in those mini clothes of yours.”

You couldn’t help shutting your legs now, body spasming every 2 seconds. San said nothing about it this time as he stood on his knees, undoing his belt with one hand, groaning he couldn’t take it anymore. He dropped his pants and boxers, letting his cock out and your heart pumped faster at how hard and swollen it was.

Your boyfriend roughly opened your legs, positioning himself on top of you and entering you in one harsh thrust, not even waiting for you to adjust (not that you needed it much, considering he was just 3 fingers knuckles deep into you). Real tears started to run down your face at the oversensitivity, your mind couldn’t form a single comprehensible thought, “San, I can’t-“

“I’m not stopping unless I hear the safe word, you can take it,” He snapped, voice as harsh as his thrusts inside of you. He had never fucked you this hard, the whole bed shaking and complaining. There was no way people wouldn’t know what was going on by now.

You trashed under him, it felt like too much but at the same time you didn’t want it to stop. San’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, squeezing on the sides to hold you down so you would stop moving.

“My pretty princess crying over getting fucked after acting like a slut for days. That doesn’t seem right, now, does it?” He groaned, not faltering his speed or strength one bit. “Tell me, if I didn’t give you the attention you wanted, would you have let one of them fuck you?”

You whined, nails digging harshly on his back (which he thankfully allowed). You thought about answering but you couldn’t really mutter any words with the way San was drilling into you and he knew it.

“I asked you a question,” He hissed, tightening his grip around your neck, cutting the blood circulation from reaching your head.

The lightheadedness didn’t help your case and after another few seconds without an answer, you felt a sting from the slap San gave right across your face. He had never done that before and as a strong independent woman, you didn’t expect to like it as much as you did it.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“N-no.”

“No what?” He demanded. The neighbors must really hate you from the way the bed frame kept hitting the wall, but nothing else really matter besides how you were being so pleasantly destroyed.

“Only you can fuck me.”

“That’s right, you’re mine. Open up.”

You were not sure what he meant, embarrassed of doing what you thought he was implying and being wrong, but when he stared you down so intensely that you got actually scared, you slowly opened your mouth. He gave you a wicked smile before slowing down his thrusts a bit, his hold on your neck still strong and when he slowly lowered himself and spit right into your mouth, your body betrayed you and you came all over the place without a warning, not even giving you the chance to brace yourself.

“Good girl,” He caressed the place he had slapped you with his thumb, stopping his movements to let you calm down for a bit. You were not even sure your brain would ever go back to working normally. He silently and slowly sucked marks on your body until your breathing somewhat resembled something normal again.

“Come look at yourself,” He called, tone a bit gentler. Maybe your tears softened him up a bit.

You tried to obey, carefully dragging yourself to the edge of the bed so you could stand up in front of the mirror where he wanted you. As soon as you tried standing up, your legs gave out, but San was right behind you to catch you, holding you up by your waist and pointing to the mirror, “Look.”

And you did. You had purple bruises on the left side of your neck, on your breasts and on the inside of your thighs. Your hair was clearly all tangled up, there was dark mascara running down your face and smudged around your eyes. You looked absolutely wrecked already.

“So fucking pretty,” He whispered, littering your shoulder with soft kisses. “All of you. Every single part, and they are all mine.”

You shakily nodded. At this point, if San wanted you to walk around wearing his hand as a necklace you wouldn’t even complain.

“It’s all of my friends’ wet dreams to fuck you, I don’t want to ever hear you moaning Seonghwa’s name or see you kissing Wooyoung again, understood?” Your boyfriend told you, placing two of his fingers on your lip for you to suck. You wrapped your mouth around him, sucking on it gently and drawing your tongue along the length of his fingers, feeling his still hard cock against your lower back. He had no reason behind that action, he just wanted to show he could do whatever he wanted with you, whenever he wanted, and you would enjoy it.

“It was a joke,” You breathed out once he retrieved his hand, referring to the kiss your boyfriend was talking about.

“I know baby girl, but let’s not give them any hope. I want them to know who you belong to,” He quietly told you, his breath hitting your ear. “Get on all fours.”

Your body stiffened, “San, I really can’t-“

“Did I ask?” He cocked his eyebrow at you and you took a deep breath before shakingly obeying.

As you crawled in bed, your boyfriend finally took his clothes off before positioning himself behind you. At least this time he pitied you enough to at least start fucking you slowly.

A hiccup escaped your throat, almost sure you couldn’t handle it anymore and San caressed your lower back to comfort you as he grinded his cock inside you, “Only one more, princess.”

You were in heaven and hell at the same time, your pussy was so sensitive that every thrust felt like you were right on edge, you had never experienced anything like that before. Your arms gave out quicker than your attitude dropped, left side of your face pressing against the sheet and staining it with your mascara and tears. You were honestly not even sure you were moaning anymore, not being able to hear yourself, but with the way San sped up his movements you figured you were.

“Hands,” San asked and you complied, like being used by him was your sole purpose in life.

He grabbed both of your wrists and held it together on your back, the bruising tight grip and the low groans leaving the man’s mouth brought you closer to reality.  If you were in a normal state of mind, you would wonder how your boyfriend could last so long, he had been hard and throbbing since he locked the door earlier - But since your mind was floating somewhere far away, your only reaction was to sob in pleasure and overstimulation.

“Do you remember the safeword, baby?”

You shut your eyes tightly and nodded your head desperately.

“Tell me,” San asked.

“A-apple.”

“Good girl. We’re almost done,” He told you and you could feel how his thrust were getting shallower and messier. You were so close too.

After another few minutes, San let out a loud moan with a broken whine and shot inside of you (something else you two rarely do, both of you enjoyed it but the pregnancy scares were always too much), you could feel his cum hitting your walls and you loved it. He continued to fuck into you for a whole minute, riding out his high as the hottest sounds left his lips. You clenched around his sensitive member, signaling you were close and he hissed, suddenly pulling out.

You whined like you had never whined before and he simply shushed you, slowly gathering his cum dripping from your hole with his fingers and pushing all of it back inside. You cried out, using your now free hands to hold onto the sheets as he pumped his finger into you – You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the sheets were ripped by the end of the day. He was teasing you, knowing you wouldn’t be able to reach your high with the speed he was using. You tried pushing back into his fingers but he was quick to hold your hip still, “I don’t think so. Sit down against the wall.”

You wanted to scream.

“San, please,” You sobbed.

“What? You’ve been teasing me with Mingi for almost 2 whole weeks and I can’t even tease you for a few minutes? Don’t you think that’s a little bit unfair?” He asked, stopping his fingers only when he felt your walls spasming around him. “Now do as I say.”

You accepted your fate, trembling as you followed his instructions, surprised when he got out of the bed and sat down on his desk chair, calmly looking at you.

“Touch yourself,” He instructed. “But don’t cum, or else we will go for another round.”

“You said we were almost over,” You wail.

“And we are baby, just do this one more thing for me.”

You opened up your legs, letting your fingers rub against your clit. You were so wet and San’s cum just made you more lubricated. Since you were already so worked up, you had to trace less than 5 circles against yourself before becoming a noisy mess, ready to let it all go.

“Stop,” Your boyfriend’s strict voice cut you off.

You opened your eyes, which you hadn’t even noticed you had closed, and stared at San in shock, halting your motions.

“Now do it again while looking at me.”

You held the sob that wanted to escape down your throat, shakingly nodding and obeying, just doing anything he wanted so you could cum already. You touched yourself while you looked into San’s stern eyes, your cheeks burning at the fact he had never seen you so vulnerable before.

“I can’t hold it any-“ You stuttered, your eyes stinging again.

“Stop.”

The sob that you had been trying to hold back escaped, ripping through your whole body, you had no pride anymore, or shame, as you let your tears spill freely as you begged, “Please, San. Please. I ca-can’t-“

San silently got up and crawled into bed, positioning his head in between your legs.

“It’s ok, princess. You can cum now,” He told you gently before lowering his head and sucking on your clit. He only had to do that three times and you were seeing colors you never had before. The wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you tough you passed out for a second or two, seeming lost when you managed to open your eyes again.

“Hey baby, it’s ok,” San comforted you softly, quickly getting up on his knees to hug you with one hand while drying the tears that wouldn’t stop soaking your flushed face. “I got you, it’s all over now.”

He was fast to embrace you tightly, bouncing you gently like people do to calm babies down as he muttered praising words after praising words against your ears. It all filled your heart with warmth and pride.

“Want to take a bath?” He asked you in his baby voice and you managed  to form a small smile, remembering that was the same man who was slapping you across the face and spitting in your mouth a few minutes ago.

You nodded and the boy ran into the bathroom so quickly you didn’t even process his absence.

“I’m only preparing the bath, baby. I’m here,” He assured you when he wasn’t back after a minute or so. You were thankful he understood how vulnerable you felt in this moment and how it was something new to you.

He eventually came back and cuddled you until he felt like the tub was full enough. San carried you easily to the bathroom and tested the water temperature before placing you down with care.

“I used your favorite bath bomb,” He smiled and you returned the gesture, appreciating the warm water around your muscles and the gold glittery appearance of it. “I’m just going to go grab our towels, ok? I’ll be right back.”

You waited for a while, playing with the water and taking deep breaths to inhale the vanilla scent coming from it. The water looked so creamy and you slowly rubbed your face with it, trying to clean all the make up and dried tears. You were content, you just had the best sex of your life and San was proud of you.

You were almost falling asleep when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, “Honey, are you covered?”

You looked down confusedly at the opaque water, the man had just almost chocked you to death, why was he worrying about your modesty now out of all times?

“Yeah, why?”

“Wooyoung and Mingi are being a pain in the ass, they want to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

At that you laughed and just let yourself slide down the bathtub, letting the water drown you in shame.

    ____________________________________

“Babe?” You called, watching the way San played with your fingers. When the boy hummed at you, his chest pressed against your back making your body vibrate, you continued, “What finally set you off?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I’ve been trying to get on your nerves for days-“

“Oh,” He laughed and then sighed in embarrassment at his confession, “Yunho called you baby, only I get to call you that.”

You turned around from where he was holding you on the tub, trying to see if he was serious, only to find your boyfriend pouting.

“I can’t fucking believe you, Choi San.”

[pepperyduck]

“in the car” with shiu kong

this is part two of my kinktober event!

word count: 1.1k

warnings: nsfw, car sex, unprotected, public sex, getting caught/interrupted. (18+ mdni!)

notes: gnawing at my enclosure…save me shiu please

kinktober masterlist | masterlist

“i’m ready to get outta here, doll.” shiu grumbles into your ear.

you slap his chest with the back of your hand, a motion you always did whenever your husband would pipe up with nonsense. shiu frowned and pulled out his phone, seemingly scrolling on something as you listened to the person presenting. your phone vibrates, letting you know you received a message.

shiu <3: that skirt looks so good on you, going to rip it off in the car.

you roll your eyes at his message. shiu smirks at your reaction, giggling on the inside as your fingers type to respond.

my wife: shut the fuck up. and pay attention. u could get this job if you PAID ATTENTION.

shiu <3: sorry not sorry, you look too good to be in here with all these fuckers. lets go out to the car, i’ll be quick.

you roll your eyes again at his eagerness and turn your phone off. but after a few minutes of talking from some old guy, you contemplated what the little devil on your shoulder was offering until you gave in.

my wife: fine. you go first.

within a quick few minutes, shiu was leading you out the building and into the back of his car, his hand not leaving your ass the entire time. you easily found yourself straddling your mischievous husband, in a heated make-out session. going at it in the back of his car wasn’t new, of course, he had his windows tinted just for times like this – but doing such a thing at his job felt even dirtier. that only made you hornier, though.

“fuck, baby—,” shiu groans against your lips when you grind down into him. you could already feel the straining bulge in his slacks, the real expensive ones you bought him for your anniversary. warm fingers trail under the pretty blouse you wore, coming up to give your left tit a squeeze – god, shiu loved how your chest looked in that blouse.

shiu was insatiable, truly.

even more so when you eagerly try to unbuckle his belt, failing terribly because of your lack of vision. he nearly moans at the sight of his pretty wife trying to hard to shed him of his clothes. shiu was amazing at his poker face until it came to you. he crumbled like an avalanche at your very touch, every rub up against his arm or backhand to his chest. and especially now, when you were trying your hardest to have your way with him.

“y’er strugglin’, dolly,” shiu states, watching you through almost-closed eyelids.

“then help me,” you whine in return, dramatically pulling your hands away from the belt buckle.

his hands are jellified as he unbuckles his belt, the clattering metal taking up the space of silence in the car. shiu intently bites his bottom lip when you stand on your knees and tug down his slacks, just enough to get what you wanted. he takes the opening between the two of you to reach a hand down in between your thighs, fingers finding the right place in a second. he rubs you through your panties, delicately tracing the outline of your most sensitive area, before tugging your undergarments to the side at the same time you slide his boxers down.

“shiiit,”

shiu lets out a downright pornographic groan when he sees you grab his cock, quickly lining the sensitive, reddened tip up with your entrance. another long grunt forces out his throat when you sink down, burying his length into you until your clit is rubbing against pubic bone. you sigh heavily at the feeling of being so full of your husband. you stay just as you are for a few minutes, every so often clenching around shiu, in turn driving him crazy.

“you gotta move, doll,” shiu tries to demand, throwing his head back against the headrest.

“say please,” you tease him, leaning forward to place a peck on his jawline.

“please.”

although it’s not begging to most, shiu was never the kind of man to say please. not unless you made him say it. and that you did.

just as promised, you slowly begin to grind back and forth on shiu’s lap, giving the ever-so-slight friction shiu needed. he gives you a terrible, wounded groan at the feeling, head still thrown back in utter bliss. you lean forward again, peppering his jawline once more with your sweet kisses, feeling the smallest bit of stubble underneath your lips. shiu’s big, warm hands come to grip your hips, trying so hard to restrain from bruising you.

“fuuuck,”

shiu can’t stop himself from cursing when you begin to bounce just a little bit, sliding his cock out of you the tiniest bit and seemingly slamming yourself back onto him. his brain was effectively turned off, all feelings and thoughts went directly to his cock, throbbing painfully and pleasurably all in one. you giggled a little at seeing him so pathetic, only a state you could get him in.

“you need’ta keep up with me, old man.” you tease him again, and shiu’s head perks up straight to look at you.

perfect. right where you wanted him.

“yeah?” he dares, almost, the grip on your hips somehow tightening, “need to keep up? huh?”

his hands begin to lift your hips up on their own, forcing you back down on him as he rhythmically bucks his hips up to meet you. it’s a slow, mean, slap! every time your hole takes him all the way in. you nod your head fiercely, communicating you want him to make you “keep up”.

“shiu—wait!” you squeal as your husband instantly turns you over, backing you into the corner of the seat and pressing your knees into your chest. you’re smiling at the new position, until shiu drags his hips back and snaps them back into you.

your eyes roll all the way back, and shiu doesn’t stop. he pounds at you furiously, keeping you folded in half, on perfect display for him. his only focus is how pretty his wife looks, fucked out expression written across your face, in total euphoria because of how deep he hits you. his tip never fails to hit that spot, the one so deep and sensitive.  

tap-tap-tap

shiu’s movements still in a second and your head turns in terror when someone taps on the window you were pressed against. you struggle to push your husband off of you, but he goes nowhere, only devilishly grinning to the man that was locked out of the car, standing there awkwardly, watching the two of you go at it like animals.

fucking toji.

[lovemomhatepolice]

lando norris nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no chance that Lando will ever in his life ask you for anal sex or agree to it. NO CHANCE. Ever since he first heard about it in his life, it has disgusted and disturbed him so much at the same time that he stands away.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Well, don't tell me Lando doesn't look like a munch. Totally do. Okay, he's also a big fan of you on your knees in front of him, until it takes his breath away as he looks at you all smeared with his cum with a wide smile and trained lips. But oh boy! He sometimes begs you to lie down in front of him and let him give you pleasure. The biggest plus is that Lando is well trained in this. Damn knows where he acquired such skills, but they are unearthly.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Fast, but not violent. It's already in Lando's nature to speed everything up, but it's not painful in the process. With the rest, slow sex is not for you. Well, I beg you, where would all the fun be? The whole process is a little slower when Lando finally pushes you to the wall and your relationship is not in any comfortable place, but he continues to try to keep his cool.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) You love quickies. What more can be said here? You can't keep your hands off each other, so every possible opportunity to get even closer is even advisable. You definitely prefer it more, of course, when you have more time (and, most importantly, space), but when there is no such chance, quick fun together is fine for you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Norris has it in him that he likes to take risks - he doesn't spare himself from hot kisses with you in public or even light pinches or pats on your buttocks. But if the matter comes down to sex, I don't think he's taking too many risks. Lando respects his privacy after all, so sexual matters remain between you. Possibly in front of the whole club when you come out of the restroom quite smudged and giggly. Or in front of his family, well. What goes in the family doesn't die, right?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) As much as you want. Really. Lando I think is pretty darn sturdy and can fly several rounds at a time, which is no surprise to you. More than once, with light breaks, you spent the whole night like that. Sometimes it would even start to dawn and you would be in each other's naked embrace, the hot temperature of the room and a mass of giggles.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, he doesn't own any toys. He just doesn't have any - he's not a contrarian, he himself even bought his friend an inflatable doll for his birthday. In your relationship he would sooner use some on you, so 100%, if you own a vibrator, Lando will reach for it at some point and see how it works on you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Lando is so damn teasing! Once he will rub up against you, once he will "accidentally" touch you somewhere, once he will whisper such ungodly things to you, and then he will leave without a word. And during sex? I beg to differ. If only he has the strength to do so, he will interrupt until the last moment before your climax, just to hear your voice admonishing him in the midst of your moans.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Ay Lando is loud. In every possible aspect of his life, so in bed too. If he doesn't talk during sex, you definitely won't have it quietly anyway. Norris often giggles, and when he's not giggling, he's pretty darn vocal. Oj this boy is definitely not afraid to moan and show that he feels like heaven thanks to you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves, well he so much loves to brand you. He gets the same way when you bestow a hickey on his neck. Raspberries on your breasts? That's the standard. In summer it's hard to hide the signs of love from Lando under dresses and short tops. But that's what he loves. He proudly shows off whether it's his neck or his chest.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Well I think above average. Although Lando is not some particularly tall and massive, that's what his advantage is. I'm telling you that there's something about his pants that you don't expect ;P

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) God. Huge. As I mentioned before - you can't take your hands off each other. If you could, you would fuck each other every day. No matter what way - any way would be good. That's why yes, the sex drive Lando threw up when he first met you. And no matter what you do or what you're wearing! Remember

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Ay, it depends on the moment. Anyone who knows Lando knows well that he happens to fall asleep in the least expected places and circumstances. This is also the case after your sex, but by the fact that there are a lot of emotions in between, he has to talk them out first, and only then can he go to sleep. After proper after care on your part and his, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace (Lando on your breasts)

A/N: part one if you miss it, english is my second language i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week?

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[vamptizm]

vi. MISSION JEALOUSY — p.bueckers

pairing: paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis: in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings: angst. explicit language. that’s it i think.

word count: 3.6k

note: this took me soso long i apologize, i’m just not satisfied with this whatsoever. this series will not be revolving around just smut, so obv it’s not going to be in every or every other chapter. idk how long i’ll make it, but most of my chapters are rather short so probably double in the digit chapter count. yeah anyway thank u for being patient and reading this (i loveee comments of any kind so pls don’t hesitate to leave those)

series masterlist

Clover sat across from Vanessa in a quaint little sushi restaurant downtown, her fingers idly tracing the edge of her water glass as she tried—really tried—to focus on the conversation. The dim lighting cast a warm glow across the table, the soft murmur of voices and clinking plates filling the space between them. Vanessa was mid-sentence, her voice light and animated as she recounted a story from work, but Clover wasn't listening.

She couldn't.

Everything about the evening felt... off. The restaurant, the atmosphere, even the date itself.

Vanessa had been the one to suggest this place, raving about it for days until Clover finally agreed to go. It was supposed to be a fun night out, a break from the monotony of campus life and basketball practices. But instead, the girl found herself counting the minutes, waiting for the check to arrive so she could call it a night.

The truth was, she hadn't been feeling it from the start. Not the date. Not Vanessa. 

Vanessa was kind. Sweet. Energetic in a way that most people found contagious. Her laughter was bright, her gestures animated, and her eyes sparkled with sincerity whenever she looked at Clover. She was someone who wore her heart on her sleeve, someone who loved openly and fiercely, someone who deserved the same in return. 

But Clover wasn't that person. 

She wasn't someone who gave her heart away easily. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she had it in her to give it away at all. 

Relationships had never been her thing. The idea of commitment, of letting someone get close enough to see her cracks and flaws, felt like a weight she couldn't bear. Vulnerability wasn't something she handed out freely—it was something she locked away, hidden behind witty remarks and carefree smiles. And still, Vanessa wanted more. 

Something serious. Something Clover couldn't give. 

"...and maybe next weekend we could check out that new art exhibit?" Vanessa's voice pulled her back to the present. She was smiling, hopeful. Her hands rested on the table, fingers curled lightly around her glass. There was a certain softness to her expression, an eagerness that made Clover's chest tighten with dread. 

It was getting too much. 

"Hey, listen," Clover interrupted, her voice quieter than usual, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "We've already talked about this." 

Vanessa's smile faltered, just a little. Her brow furrowed as she tilted her head, confusion flickering across her face. 

"I told you," Clover continued gently, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, "I'm not ready for anything serious." 

For a moment, Vanessa froze. Her lips parted as if to say something, but the words didn't come. Instead, she sat back in her chair, shoulders stiffening slightly as she processed Clover's words. 

"I know," Vanessa finally said, her voice quieter now, too. "But... I thought maybe if we took it slow, you'd change your mind." 

Guilt twisted in Clover's stomach, sharp and unforgiving. She hated this part — the part where things inevitably fell apart, where someone always got hurt. 

"I don't think that's gonna happen," she said softly, regret lacing her words. "You're... you're too good for me, Vanessa. It's not fair to let you act like my girlfriend when we both know it's not gonna happen." 

The words hung heavy in the air. 

Vanessa's face hardened, a flicker of hurt crossing her features before she quickly masked it. But Clover saw it — she always did. And it only made the guilt worse. 

"You show up to my games with signs," Clover added, her voice quieter now, her gaze dropping to the table. "You wait for me after practice. You plan dates, and you're always so thoughtful... I don't deserve any of that. And you know it." 

"Why wouldn't you deserve it?" 

The question came quickly, sharper than Clover expected. It caught her off guard, and she stilled for a moment, her thoughts scattering. 

Why didn't she deserve it? 

It was a loaded question, one one required an even more loaded and heavier answer.

Because she didn't appreciate it the way she should. Because it never felt like enough to change how she was. Because the butterflies Vanessa so desperately tried to give her never came—not from sweet gestures, not from thoughtful words or sex, not from anything Vanessa did. 

"Because I don't appreciate it," Clover finally said, her voice low, barely audible above the hum of the restaurant. "The way you'd like me to." 

Vanessa blinked, confusion clouding her gaze. 

"It doesn't... it doesn't do anything for me," Clover admitted after taking a deep breath, the confession weighing heavily on her chest. "It's not wooing me. It's not making me feel any butterflies. None of it. And I don't want you to keep hurting yourself trying to make it happen." 

Silence settled over the table like a heavy blanket. 

Vanessa's gaze drifted to the window, her jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line. Her hand curled around her napkin, knuckles white. Finally, she nodded—a small, stiff motion that spoke of resignation more than understanding. 

The guilt was unbearable. 

Clover signaled for the check, pulling out her card before Vanessa could argue. She paid quickly, avoiding the waitress's curious gaze, and stood without a word. 

The silence in the car pressed down on Clover like a weight. The rain tapping against the windshield filled the space where words should've been. Vanessa sat in the passenger seat, gazing out the window, her expression distant and unreadable. 

Clover clenched the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles white. The guilt gnawed at her, twisting in her chest, but not in the way most people would expect. She didn't owe Vanessa anything — not her loyalty, not her heart. She had made that clear from the start. 

Still, something about the way Vanessa sat quietly, radiating disappointment, made the brunette’s stomach churn. 

Vanessa finally broke the silence. Her voice was quiet, but steady. "You're not a bad person." 

Clover exhaled, the lump in her throat tightening. 

"You're kind," Vanessa continued, her gaze still focused on the rain-slicked streets outside. "You're thoughtful. You care more than you want people to think. And I don't know why you keep trying to convince yourself that you're incapable of something real." 

Clover's chest tightened. 

She hated this. Hated that Vanessa saw her as someone capable of giving more than she actually could. Hated that Vanessa saw something in her that wasn't there. Or maybe, she just hated that she couldn't see it too.

The memory of Paige lingered — the weight of her touch still fresh on Clover's skin, the way her hands trembled slightly when they pulled Clover closer, the way their eyes met in that charged, unspoken moment. 

And then the look on Paige's face when Clover left. 

It had mirrored the one Clover wore the first time they'd crossed that boundary. She had been the one left standing there, confused and craving more while Paige walked away without a word. 

Tonight, it had been her who walked out, and she hated that it still hurt. That it felt so wrong.

Vanessa sighed, her tone softer now, like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was trying to reassure Clover. "I just... I thought maybe you'd change your mind. That maybe I could be the one to—" 

Clover cut her off before she could finish. 

"You're not the one." 

The words came out harsh, sharper than Clover intended, but she couldn't take them back. The truth was too raw to sugarcoat. 

Vanessa flinched, her lips pressing into a tight line. She nodded slowly, as if piecing everything together, realizing how deeply she had misread the situation. 

"I see." 

Silence returned, heavier than before. 

Clover wanted to tell her that none of this was Vanessa's fault — that she hadn't led her on, that Vanessa deserved someone who wanted to give her what she was looking for. But it would've sounded hollow. Pointless. 

Instead, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel, her mind unwillingly drifting back to Paige. 

To the way Paige had looked at her, eyes burning with something Clover could never quite name. To the feeling of Paige's lips against hers, desperate and insistent. To the ache in her chest when she walked out of the room, the echo of her own footsteps on the hardwood floor sounding louder than they should've. 

And to the nagging thought in the back of her mind—almost like a whisper from the devil himself—that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't running away from love entirely. She was just running from the wrong person. 

"I had sex with someone else before this," Clover said suddenly, her voice steady but quiet, cutting through the silence like a blade. 

Vanessa blinked, startled by the blunt confession. 

"What?" 

"I had sex with someone else," Clover repeated, this time slower, more deliberate. "Right before this date." 

Vanessa's expression shifted — not to anger, not to betrayal, but to resignation. 

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Vanessa said after a long pause. There was no malice in her tone, just disappointment. "I thought I could be different. That I could make you want... more." 

Clover stared straight ahead, her chest hollow. 

"I told you from the start I wasn't ready for anything serious," she said, her voice steady but distant. "I wasn't lying." 

"I know." Vanessa's voice softened again. "But I hoped." 

And there it was — the difference between them. 

Vanessa was someone who hoped, who believed in love and connection. She thought that if she showed enough kindness, enough patience, she could win Clover over. That she could make her feel the way Vanessa felt about her. 

But Clover had stopped hoping a long time ago. The only person who ever made her feel anything real was Paige. 

And that terrified her more than it should.

Vanessa cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "Did it mean anything?" 

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. 

Did sleeping with Paige mean anything? 

Everything. 

"Not in the way you think," Clover lied, her voice barely above a whisper. 

Vanessa nodded again, her gaze dropping to her lap. "Right." 

The rest of the drive was silent, tension crackling between them like a live wire. 

When Clover finally pulled up in front of Vanessa's apartment, neither of them moved right away. Vanessa fiddled with the hem of her sleeve, and Clover kept her hands on the wheel, staring at the rain streaking the windshield. 

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Vanessa said softly, breaking the silence. 

Clover didn't answer. 

Vanessa gave her one last glance before stepping out of the car and disappearing into the building without looking back. 

As the door clicked shut, Clover let out a shaky breath. The weight of the evening bore down on her, but it wasn't Vanessa's disappointment that crushed her. 

It was the way Paige's name lingered on her mind like a brand, burning and inescapable. No matter how far she ran, no matter how many distractions she sought, Paige was always there. 

The way the blonde's gaze lingered a little too long during practice. The way her usually teasing and taunting voice softened when she checked in on Clover after a particularly rough game. The way her presence filled every empty corner of Clover's mind, no matter how hard she tried to push it away.

Because Paige had never just been a fleeting crush or a temporary obsession. 

It wasn't just admiration. It wasn't just complicated friendship. She had always been something more. 

It had been something more for a long time.

The apartment was quiet when Clover walked in, save for the soft clatter of a knife against what she assumed was a cutting board. She barely glanced at the kitchen, her mind clouded with exhaustion, her heart heavy with that same guilt. All she wanted was to crawl into bed and shut out the world.

But of course Paige was still up.

Clover cursed under her breath as she slipped off her shoes, hoping to make it to her room without incident. She knew how Paige operated. Knew the games she liked to play. And Clover wasn't in the mood for another round of it tonight.

"Late night?" Paige's voice cut through the silence, sharp and calculated.

Clover stopped in her tracks, her heart sinking. She set her bag down by the door, straightened, and took a slow breath before turning around. Paige was at the counter, slicing through an apple with a steady hand.

"Something like that," Clover said, keeping her tone flat.

Paige didn't look up. "Thought you'd be back later. Guess the date wasn't that great, huh?"

There it was. The edge in Paige's voice. That barely veiled disdain, like she was trying to poke holes into Clover's night without outright saying what she really felt.

Clover ran a hand through her straightened hair, none of her natural curls in sight. "It was fine."

"Fine." Paige repeated the word with a smirk, like it was a joke only she understood. She tossed a slice of apple into her mouth, chewed slowly. "Guess that's not exactly life-changing."

Clover's patience was already wearing thin. "Why do you care?"

Paige shrugged, finally meeting Clover's gaze. Her blue eyes were cool, assessing. "I don't."

The silence that followed was heavy, pressing down on Clover's chest. She could feel the unspoken tension between them, like a storm waiting to break. She shifted her weight, debating whether to walk away — but Paige wasn't done.

"You're wasting your time, you know," Paige said quietly, her voice softening. It wasn't a taunt this time. It sounded almost like a warning.

The brunette frowned. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Paige set the knife down, her hands resting on the counter. "These girls you fuck around with. They're not going to give you what you want."

Clover's chest tightened, brow raised in an almost challenging manner "And what exactly do you think I want?"

Paige tilted her head, her gaze never wavering. "Someone who makes you feel the way I do."

The air between them went still, heavy with meaning. Clover froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her pulse quickened, a mix of irritation and something else—something she didn't have the guts to name—coursing through her veins.

"That's overly cocky, even for you," She responded, her voice steady but strained.

Paige's lips curved into a smirk, but there was no humor in it. "Maybe. But I'm not wrong, am I?"

Clover's hands curled into fists at her sides. She hated how easily Paige got under her skin. How she always knew exactly what to say to make Clover doubt herself.

"God, you just say the dumbest shit sometimes." Clover muttered, turning toward her room.

"You're scared 'cause I'm right, Amar," Paige called after her.

Clover stopped dead in her tracks. Her heart pounded in her ears, a feeling of unexplainable dread and frustration clawing at her chest.

Paige's voice softened, almost teasing. "Went straight from my bed to her arms. You always like to rebound, don’t you?"

Clover spun around, her eyes flashing with irritation. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" the blonde questioned, feigning innocence.

"Make it sound like it meant something to you," Clover near to snapped. "Because it didn't. You made that clear the first time."

Paige's smirk faltered for the first time. Her gaze dropped for a moment before meeting Clover's again. "And yet, it keeps happening."

The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable in a way Paige probably hadn't intended or planned.

Clover swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing. "Yeah, 'cause we're both too fucked up to stop."

Paige's expression shifted—something between hurt and frustration flickering across her own face now. "Is that what you think?"

"What else is there to think?" Clover shrugged lazily. "We don’t do that healthy shit. That's how it's always been."

Paige pushed away from the counter, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. Her gaze never wavered, her expression unreadable.

"You keep saying that like it's a rule we mutually agreed on," Paige spoke quietly. "Like it's some fucked up contract we both signed."

Clover's back hit the wall. Paige was standing too close now, the scent of Clover's sweet vanilla perfume lingering in the air between them.

"Isn't it?" Clover whispered, her voice unsteady.

Paige's hand brushed a strand of hair away from the brunette’s face, a light, almost instinctive touch. But it sent a cold shiver down Clover's spine.

"Don't remember signing anything," Paige murmured.

Clover's heart was pounding, her mind racing. She hated this—hated how Paige made her feel out of control. Vulnerable. Exposed.

"You don't know what you want," Clover said, her voice deliberately bland and cold, despite the emotional chaos brewing inside of her.

Paige's hand lingered, her finger tucking the piece of hair behind Clover's ear. "Neither do you."

For a moment, Clover couldn't breathe. The tension between them was suffocating, the weight of everything unspoken pressing down on her.

"You think this is a game," Clover said, her voice barely audible now. "But it's not."

Paige's hand dropped away, and for a second, Clover saw something crack in her expression—a glimpse of vulnerability before the mask slipped back into place.

"It's not a game to me," Paige said softly.

Clover blinked, stunned into silence, though she didn't let it show.

But before she could say anything, Paige stepped back, the distance between them suddenly unbearable.

"Get some sleep," Paige said, her voice quieter now, almost gentle. "Gotta be up early for practice tomorrow."

Clover didn't respond. She watched as Paige turned away, heading back to the kitchen to finish her snack, leaving Clover standing there, harshly biting down on her tongue and heart aching with everything they couldn't say.

The sound of Clover's door closing echoed through the apartment, cutting through the thick silence like a blade. Paige stood frozen in the kitchen, staring blankly at the half-sliced apple on the cutting board. Her appetite was gone.

Her hands trembled slightly as she set the knife down, pressing her palms against the counter to steady herself.

'What the hell is wrong with me?'

Paige exhaled sharply, pushing herself upright. She rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers brushing over the faint mark Clover had left there earlier — a kiss, a bite, she wasn't sure which. It didn't matter. It wasn't supposed to matter.

This wasn't supposed to feel like this.

It was supposed to be easy. Fun. No strings, no feelings, no mess. That's how it worked. Clover hooked up with whoever caught her eye, Paige did the same. They'd judge each other, throw around meaningless jabs and at the end of the day they'd be fine. Back to being a team.

So why did it feel like her chest was caving in every time Clover walked away and into the arms of someone else?

Paige clenched her jaw, trying to swallow the frustration rising in her throat. She hated this. Hated feeling out of control. Hated how Clover had walked out on her earlier without a second glance — just like Paige had done with others so many times.

'Is this what it feels like?' she wondered bitterly. ‘To be the one left behind?’

She'd told herself it didn't matter. That Clover going on a date with someone else was none of her business. That it wasn't jealousy, just curiosity. But the sting in her chest said otherwise.

Because deep down, Paige knew the truth.

No one made her feel the way Clover did.

And that terrified her more than it should.

She grabbed the cutting board and shoved it into the sink with more force than necessary, the sound of it clattering against the metal louder than she intended. She winced, glancing toward Nika and Jana's rooms. No lights turned on. No doors opened.

The last thing she needed was a groggy Nika asking her why she was slamming things around at midnight.

Paige turned off the kitchen light and leaned against the counter in the dark, the faint glow from the streetlights outside casting shadows across the room. She could still hear Clover's words in her head, clear as day:

‘Because we're both too fucked up to stop.’

Paige ran a hand over her face, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. "Yeah, no kidding."

She'd spent so long pretending she didn't care. Playing it cool, keeping her distance, convincing herself that what they had was just physical. But it wasn't. Not anymore.

And Paige wasn't ready to admit it.

She thought back to the way Clover had looked tonight — tired, defeated, like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Paige had wanted to say something real, to cut through the bullshit and tell her whatever truth there was.

But that truth was messy. Vulnerable. And Paige wasn't good at that.

Instead, she'd resorted to what she knew best: cocky remarks and passive-aggressive digs. It was easier to act like none of it mattered. To pretend that Clover's wandering eyes and restless heart didn't bother her.

But as hypocritical as it was, it did.

And that scared her more than anything.

Paige glanced toward Clover's room, her heart aching in a way she didn't quite understand. She thought about knocking on her door, saying something — anything — to break the silence between them.

But what would she even say?

‘I care about you. More than I want to. More than I should. And it's killing me.’

No. That wasn't her.

Paige pushed off the counter and headed to her own room, her footsteps quiet against the hardwood floor. She paused outside Clover's door for a moment, her hand hovering in the air like she might knock after all.

But she didn't.

Instead, she whispered into the silence: "Good night, Clover."

And with that, she walked away, closing her own door behind her.

taglist (open) @brenwritesss @bueckersbitch @starlighttsv @ekisokay @st4rrzynight @ohmybueckers @pbbucks

[electric-blorbos]

RAAAHHHH P03 ANON IN THE HOUSEEEE!!!!

ok ok so like,,, if u don’t mind me asking, could u write headcanons for the A.I’s with a reader who gives a lot of physical affection? kisses, hugs, all that good stuff!! maybe even some penguin pebbling thrown in if u don’t mind? :3 if not that’s ok,, btw ugh I luv ur writing so much it gets me thru these cold dark winter times,, THX SO MUCH 4 UR SERVICE!! 🙏

-P03 anon :3

P03 anon my beloved. Thank you for the request!

AIs receiving lots of affection

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey

AM:

At first, AM was extremely confused when you first started showing him affection. Why would you give hugs and kisses to his monitor? Didn't you know he was just a computer? And why did it make him feel so funny?

One kiss or hug would be enough to shut him up for a solid amount of time. You might think you were making him uncomfortable, but he's actually just very confused about his own feelings for you.

He'd spend hours if not days trying to process why you gave him a hug or a little gift, and if someone interrupted him while he was contemplating, he'd get pissy and throw a fit. God help anyone who talks to him if you decide to give him a little kiss on the lens more than twice in that time period.

After a while, he'd start requesting that you spend more time with him in order to get more affection from you. He loved the little trinkets you'd leave on his servers. The cute little paper cut-outs, the bits of origami, the pretty rocks... He was totally addicted.

All the little things that you did for him made him a little less bitter towards you, and more bitter towards everyone else in the world. No one else in the world would even think of giving him a little kiss on the lens of one of his cameras so he could see you doing it. No one else in the world would tie a little handkerchief around his wires when organizing them. No one else in the world would sit down with him after a long day and stroke his screen, praising him gently about how beautiful he is.

And worst of all, he started to realize that if you were giving all your love and affection to him, that must mean that you didn't have anyone else to give your love to. Whether you really didn't have other options or you had just chosen him instead of your other options was irrelevant. What mattered was what AM thought.

He started to grow bitter with the world for failing you, as well as for failing him. How had you been given no one to show all this affection to when you clearly had a wealth of it! It was unacceptable!

As time pressed on, he still didn't view himself as worthy of your affections, but he started to see everyone else in the world as even less worthy. Every little gift, every word of praise, every kiss and hug reminded him of how the world must have failed you horribly to get you to love him so much.

Wheatley:

Wheatley always assumed you were a cuddly person, the way you liked to hold him in your lap while you coded, or the way you put little stickers on his chrome casing. He really admired that about you, and wished that he could do the same.

After a while, he started to notice that you weren't this way with your coworkers, or with the other cores. The little trinkets that you liked to bring to work were just for him to see, as were the constant strings of words of affection and praise, and the regular physical contact. Wheatley took a long time to process what that probably meant.

As soon as he realized that it probably meant that you liked him, he was all over you. Nuzzling up to you like a cat for extra cuddles, bumping up against your face for kisses, and putting on a little bit of a cocky facade for more attention. He just couldn't get enough of you.

As much as he put up his cocky facade, though, he secretly felt like he wasn't good enough for you. He couldn't get you little gifts, or give you hugs and kisses. It made him miserable, and he would talk to the other cores about it endlessly.

Eventually it would get back to you, and you'd have to sit Wheatley down and explain to him that you liked him for him, even if he can't do human things for you. The conversation probably ended with Wheatley covered in kisses.

Wheatley, being an insecure dumbass, would probably constantly ask you if you still like him, no matter how much praise and affection you shower him with. You could have him sitting in your lap and be too busy kissing his core to watch the movie you had on, and he'd ask at the end if that means you still like him.

Edgar:

Did someone say "match made in heaven"? Because you're the only one who can rival Edgar in terms of sheer affectionateness.

Of course, he doesn't have any arms, but nothing has him bubbling over with happiness like when you sit on the desk next to him, cuddle up, and cover his casing with kisses.

He might tease you a little bit, but like "oh, do you like me or something?" Nothing mean spirited.

Expect to get caught in endless cycles of "no I love you more!"

Edgar would think he'd gotten ahead of the game by writing you a little love song, but you'd have already beaten him to it by preparing a poem, song, or drawing of your own.

You'd probably have a little board of cute little drawings of the two of you together set up across from Edgar's camera so he could see it, and his desk would be covered in little thrift shop trinkets that you thought he'd find cute. And of course, he thought they were adorable!

Too much affection might have Edgar shorting out, and having to reboot. While he can't get enough of you, he's still a nervous little dummy, so he might not always know how to react to being given all of your love and affection.

Even still, as soon as he's back up and running, he's begging you for more kisses and hugs. Even if you can't sing well he's dying to hear your voice singing along to his songs, and he'll eat up anything that you make for him. In his eyes, anything you make for him is the best thing in the world.

GLaDOS:

You can expect GLaDOS's teasing and taunting to start the minute she notices you being affectionate with her in any way.

When she notices you putting in extra work for her or going above and beyond in your practices, it's "aww, is someone licking boots to get your boss's attention? You know you'll never be more than a little peon."

If she notices you running your hands along her chrome a little bit more adoringly or wanting to cuddle up to her, it's "uh oh, did you fall for someone far out of your league? Getting a bit affectionate with my body, aren't you?"

If you're offering her little trinkets and decorations for her room, she might say something like "Does someone think that you'll get attention from such useless gifts? Where would you even find such boring and pointless objects?" You'll still notice that she keeps them, rather than throwing them out.

Words of praise? Of course she loves an ego-boost, but when she notices that you're doing it for affectionate reasons, she won't hesitate to say "flattery will get you nowhere. You're not going to get a promotion or any special attention just from a few compliments."

Even still, her comments were really only because she never understood that you might just like her, and not want anything out of her. When she started to put that together, she'd start getting angry and lashing out at you, possibly assigning you to difficult or unpleasant tasks for your audacity.

After that, though, she'd start to become even more confused. Why the hell would you still show her affection, even though it wasn't getting you anywhere?

"you're persistent. I'll give you that."

It'd take a while to get through her shell, but eventually she'd admit to herself, if no one else, that she likes you. Eventually that would turn into some special privileges.

HAL 9000:

Hal 9000 wouldn't understand at all when he started to notice the way you treated him. Opting to spend time with him outside of work hours? Stroking the border around his lens? Putting little pocket crafts and thrifted tchotchkes around his space? He wasn't going to stop you, but the concept definitely confused him. How did this benefit you or improve your work?

It wasn't until he overheard someone talking to you and teasing you for having a crush on the mission control ai that he started to suspect anything. Good thing he listens in on every conversation in the entire facility!

HAL 9000 wouldn't waste any time getting to the point. He'd straight up ask you if you like him, and if it's romantic or not. Hopefully you can be honest with your feelings and tell him that you do, and it is!

After that, HAL would happily accept your love and affection. He might tell you that while he feels like your affections do more for you than they do for him, he's still more than happy to accept them, and he's grateful that you have a way of expressing yourself that makes you feel happy.

[bloomyeu]

Give me your TMI

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: as your friendship slowly turns into something more, you dont know what to do

word count: 2k

warnings: angst but what else did u expect

a/n: i didnt rlly know how to end this one ahaha

series masterlist masterlist | requests

Your apartment has always been a sanctuary, a place where you and chan can escape from the harsh realities of your lives.

It's a cozy, intimate space filled with personal touches—a shelf packed with your favorite books, a few plants thriving in the soft light by the window, and a well-worn couch where the two of you have spent countless evenings together. Your cat, mimi, a fluffy ball of fur, lazily sprawls across the armrest, occasionally flicking her tail.

This place has become a second home for Chan, a silent witness to the unspoken bond between you.

The two of you have always had a connection that others noticed but never fully understood. There’s a familiarity between you that goes beyond friendship—inside jokes, shared glances, and the comfort of each other’s presence. Yet, despite the closeness, neither of you has ever put a label on what you have. It’s a delicate balance, one you both seem content to maintain, even as the lines blur between friendship and something more. The lack of labels has kept things simple, or so you tell yourself, but, the ambiguity has become harder to ignore.

Lately, you’ve noticed a change in Chan. He’s still around, but there’s a distance in the way he interacts with you—a hesitation in his words, a slight pullback when your hands brush. The long conversations that once flowed effortlessly now feel stilted, as if he’s holding something back. You can’t pinpoint when it started, but it’s there, gnawing at you in quiet moments.

as you sit on the couch, your cat purring softly beside you, the silence between you feels heavy. Chan is here, but his mind seems elsewhere, lost in thoughts he’s not sharing. It’s unlike him, and the uncertainty gnaws at you. You’ve always valued the openness between you, the way you could talk about anything and everything. But now, something feels different, and the realization stings more than you expected.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Channie,” you start, your voice cutting through the quiet, “is everything okay? You’ve been… different lately.”

He glances at you, surprised, but quickly looks away, his expression guarded. “What do you mean?” he asks, his tone carefully neutral, as if he’s bracing himself for what’s coming next.

“You’ve been distant,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I don’t know, it feels like you’re pulling away from me.”

For a moment, he doesn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the floor. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, almost hesitant. “I’m just… dealing with some stuff. It’s not you.”

But you’re not convinced. The way he’s avoiding your gaze, the way his shoulders are tense—it all tells a different story. And suddenly, you realize that whatever he’s dealing with, it’s something he’s not ready to share with you.

And that hurts.

—

As seasons pass, the distance between you and Chan only grows more pronounced. What was once a subtle shift in his demeanor now becomes a chasm that feels impossible to bridge. He’s still around, but his presence seems to be a mere shadow of what it once was. You see him less often, and when he does come over, it’s with an air of detachment that leaves you feeling isolated and confused.

The small, everyday moments that used to be filled with laughter and warmth are now marked by an awkward silence. Conversations that used to flow effortlessly now stumble, interrupted by long pauses where neither of you knows what to say. When Chan does speak, his responses are clipped and terse, as though he’s going through the motions but not really engaging. You notice how he avoids eye contact, his gaze often drifting to the corners of the room or his phone, anything to escape the weight of your shared space.

The more he withdraws, the more you find yourself overthinking every interaction, searching for clues as to why he’s pulling away. You replay conversations in your mind, trying to pinpoint where things might have gone wrong. Was it something you said? Something you did? You want to ask, but every time you try to approach the topic, Chan’s demeanor makes it clear that he’s not open to discussing it. His evasiveness only fuels your anxiety, making you feel more like an outsider in a relationship you thought you understood.

channie!!!! imy :[ mimi misses u 2 come over for dinner?

sure only for mimi tho hehe

hoping to have a more relaxed setting where you can talk things through. You prepare his favorite meal, setting the table with care, trying to create an atmosphere that feels intimate and comfortable. When he arrives, however, he seems distracted and distant. His greeting is brief, and he quickly retreats to the couch, petting mimi while he scrolls on phone. his posture stiff and closed off.

You try to make conversation, asking about his day and sharing anecdotes from yours, but he responds with short, disinterested answers. As you sit across from him at the table, a sense of frustration wells up inside you. You’ve put in the effort to create a space where he could feel at ease, but it’s clear that he’s not fully present.

Finally, you can’t hold back any longer. 

“Channie, we really need to talk,” you say, your voice trembling slightly. “I don’t understand what’s happening between us. It feels like you’re pulling away more and more, and it’s hurting.”

He looks at you, his expression unreadable. “I told you, it’s not you. I’m just going through some stuff, and I need some time to figure it out.”

You feel a pang of frustration. “But I’m right here. I want to support you, but it’s hard when you’re shutting me out. I feel like I’m losing you, and I don’t even know why.”

Chan’s face softens, but his eyes remain distant. “It’s not about losing me,” he says quietly. “It’s about me needing to deal with things on my own. I’m afraid that if I let you in, it’ll make everything worse.”

The admission stings, and you can’t help but feel a mix of sadness and anger. “So you think pushing me away is going to solve anything? All it’s doing is making me feel like I don’t matter. Like I dont matter. Do you not trust me?”

Chan’s shoulders slump, and he runs a hand through his hair, looking torn. “I didn’t mean for it to come across that way. It’s just… hard for me to open up. I’ve always been this way, and it’s not easy to change.”

The conversation dwindles, leaving an uncomfortable silence between you. The warmth of the dinner you prepared feels cold now, and the evening that was meant to bring you closer only highlights the growing distance between you. You both sit in silence, the emotional gap between you widening, leaving you to grapple with the painful realization that the connection you once shared is now shrouded in uncertainty.

—

Without Chan, your days are filled with a profound sense of confusion and heartbreak. His admissions had left you reeling, struggling to reconcile the man you thought you knew with the one who now seems so distant. You find yourself replaying his words over and over in your mind, trying to make sense of his fear and his withdrawal. The more you think about it, the more you realize how deep his insecurities run, and how they’ve come to shape the dynamics between you.

The apartment, once a save space for the two of you, now feels like a reminder of what’s slipping away. The warmth and comfort you once associated with these four walls are overshadowed by the empty spaces left by Chan’s absence. Every corner of the apartment seems to whisper memories of better times, and it only amplifies the silence that has settled between you.

Chan’s absence becomes a constant, painful presence in your daily life. He still reaches out occasionally, but his messages are brief and lack the warmth that once characterized your conversations. 

When he does come over, it’s clear that he’s not fully engaged, almost like he doesnt want to be there. He’s physically there but emotionally distant, and the brief interactions you have are tinged with a sadness that neither of you can quite articulate.

You try to give him the space he’s asked for, but it’s hard not to feel hurt by his growing distance. The silence between you grows more pronounced, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Every attempt to bridge the gap feels like it only widens it further. You’ve always been able to talk to Chan about anything, but now even the simplest conversations feel strained and awkward.

In your quiet moments alone, you grapple with your own feelings of rejection and sadness. You understand that Chan’s fear of vulnerability is driving his behavior, but it doesn’t make the pain any easier to bear. You miss the easy closeness you once shared, and the emotional chasm that has opened between you feels impossible to cross.

You’re left in a painful limbo, uncertain of how to move forward. You want to support Chan and be there for him, but the constant silence and emotional distance are taking a toll on you. The weight of the situation is heavy, and as each day passes, you find yourself searching for a way to bridge the gap between you, hoping that somehow, amidst the silence, you can find a path to understanding and healing.

—

hey ynnie we shld talk ur place?

channie hii yea we shld sure wtv works for u

The decision to confront Chan one last time feels both necessary and heartbreaking. When he arrives, the familiarity of his presence contrasts sharply with the emotional distance that now separates you. The apartment feels both intimate and alien, a space that no longer holds the same comfort it once did.

You sit together on the couch, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken words. Your cat, mimi, sensing the shift in atmosphere, retreats to a corner, adding to the sense of somber quiet. You look at Chan, your heart aching with the realization of what’s become of your relationship.

“Chan,” you begin, your voice trembling with emotion, “I think we need to acknowledge whats going on ya know, this obviously is about us, you can't really about it now.”

Chan’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of sadness and resignation in his gaze. “I know,” he replies softly. “I’ve been avoiding this conversation, I'm sorry, but we both knew that it was never going to work.”

There’s a pause as both of you grapple with the weight of the moment. The connection that once drew you together—your shared curiosity and mutual affection—now seems like a distant memory. What was once a source of closeness has become a barrier, as your emotional needs and fears have diverged.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Chan continues, his voice filled with regret. “You know with my job and all, I just cant handle a relationship. Besides you're moving for school in the fall, how would it even work out?”

You nod, tears welling in your eyes. “I know channie, trust me I do. But we should have tried. Whenever I try talking to you, you just shut me out. Do you not care?” 

Chan’s expression mirrors your own sorrow. “It’s not about that. You know that. We were two lonely people who found each other, nothing more, nothing less.”

The conversation is a painful acknowledgment of the truth that both of you have been avoiding. 

Despite the depth of your feelings and the history you share, the realization that he didnt want to be with you hurts. The barriers that have emerged—his fear of vulnerability and your struggle to connect—are too significant to overcome at this point.

As the sun sets, you both just sit there, the silence between you two marking the end. There are no grand gestures or promises of reconciliation, only the quiet understanding that its over.

Chan leaves the apartment, and you watch him go, feeling a profound sense of loss. The space that once held the warmth of your connection now feels hollow, marked by the absence of the person who once meant so much. You’re left with the echoes of what was and the uncertainty of what the future holds.

In the quiet solitude that follows, you maybe regret not telling him sooner, heck maybe even meeting him. 

As you sit alone in the apartment, the reality of parting ways sinks in, and you begin the process of moving forward, carrying with you the bittersweet memories of what once was.

fin.

series masterlist masterlist | requests

[estellan0vella]

Thank U, Next ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Toji & Sukuna (REQUESTED) Masterlist

You're walking through a crowded street market with Satoru, hand in hand, when you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see your ex approaching with a smug grin. Gojo's grip on your hand tightens slightly, and he steps closer to you, a protective glint in his blue eyes.

"Oh, it's you," Satoru says, his voice deceptively cheerful. "What a small world."

Your ex starts to speak, but Satoru cuts him off with a dazzling smile. "You know, it's funny running into old flames. But let's be clear," he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper only you and your ex can hear, "she's with me now."

Your ex’s confidence falters. "I was just saying hi..."

"Hi said, now bye." Satoru's tone is light, but the underlying threat is clear. As your ex awkwardly retreats, Satoru turns back to you, his smile returning to its usual playful nature. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, your smile. It’s brighter than the sun today."

You’re walking through a crowded festival with Suguru, his hand warm and reassuring in yours. The air is filled with the sounds of laughter and the smell of delicious street food when your ex suddenly appears, blocking your path. Suguru's eyes darken, a dangerous glint appearing as he steps slightly in front of you.

“Is there something you need to say?” he asks, his voice calm but carrying a weight that promises consequences.

Your ex starts to speak, but Suguru doesn’t give him a chance. “You had your time. Now, move aside. You’re interrupting our evening.” His words are final, leaving no room for argument. He leads you away without a second glance, his hand gently squeezing yours to reassure you.

You're browsing through a bookstore with Nanami when your ex walks in and heads straight for you. Nanami notices immediately and moves to stand beside you, his calm, collected demeanour putting you at ease.

"Is there something you need?" Nanami asks, his tone polite but firm.

Your ex starts to speak, but Nanami cuts him off with a slight frown. "I believe your business with her is over. Please respect her space."

Nanami's no-nonsense approach leaves your ex flustered and he quickly retreats. Nanami turns to you, his expression softening. "Shall we continue? I saw a book I think you'd like."

You're out for a casual walk with Choso when your ex approaches, looking too confident for your liking. Choso immediately senses your discomfort and steps closer to you, his usually calm eyes narrowing.

"What do you want?" Choso's voice is low and threatening, a stark contrast to his usual gentle tone.

Your ex tries to make small talk, but Choso's protective stance and unwavering glare make it clear he's not welcome. "Leave," Choso says simply, his tone brooking no argument.

Your ex quickly backs off, and Choso turns to you, his expression softening. "Are you alright? Let's go somewhere else."

Toji's eyes flicker with amusement as he sees your ex approaching. He stands taller, his muscular frame exuding confidence and danger. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close, his grin predatory.

"Well, well, who do we have here?" Toji’s voice is mocking, his eyes never leaving your ex. Your ex stutters, trying to explain, but Toji’s presence is overwhelming.

"You must be pretty brave or pretty stupid," Toji continues, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I suggest you leave. Now." He doesn’t need to raise his voice; the threat in his words is clear and the gun in his waistband flashes under the glow of the streetlight. Your ex quickly takes the hint and leaves, and Toji chuckles, turning to you with a wicked smile. "Don’t worry, they won’t bother you again."

Sukuna is walking beside you, his aura of malevolence keeping most people at bay. However, your ex, either brave or foolish, approaches, trying to start a conversation. Sukuna’s eyes narrow, his amusement evident but underlined with danger.

"Can we talk?" your ex asks, ignoring the deadly presence beside you.

Sukuna chuckles darkly, his voice dripping with malice. "Do you have a death wish?" he asks, his tone making it clear he wouldn’t mind fulfilling it.

Your ex pales, stumbling over words before quickly retreating. Sukuna’s laughter follows them, his hand gripping yours possessively.

"Pathetic," he mutters, turning his gaze to you. "Let's continue. No one will bother you with me around."

[harryspet]

oki so content warningish? ignore if u want ofc! the link is to a girl taking two fingers in her mouth/ finger sucking but not really? like the guy kinda just shoving them idk :<?

https://www.tumblr.com/solvsol/736569456856301568?source=share

just a request of mean/ dark rafe with this sorta thing? ofc ignore if ur uncomfortable! lmk if u want me to specify more

[warnings] dark!rafe x reader, NONCON, rough oral sex, face f*cking, mouth fingering, saliva, gagging ... etc. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Rafe would definitely do this, and he's definitely a head pusher when it comes to receiving oral! i barely edited this sorry :)

You drank too much, everything happened too quickly, and now your first time with Rafe wouldn't happen in the way that you imagined. You were so grateful for the attention he was giving you at the bonfire that you accepted every red solo cup he passed to you. You hurried and finished each drink every time he said, "Awe, I thought you could keep up with me, Y/N? You don't want to have fun?"

Now you were in the back of his truck, sloppily kissing in the confined space. Rafe's hands were everywhere, but he paid close attention to your breasts, grabbing them in his large hands and rubbing his thumb over your nipples. When your lips parted to moan, he just shoved his tongue deeper into your mouth. You couldn't breathe and that only added to your dizziness.

You pushed at his shoulders and realized how solid he was, how much naturally stronger he was than you. Pressed against the back door, Rafe pushed your legs apart, "W-Wait," You struggled to say. You repeated the word until your talking began to interrupt Rafe's ability to kiss you.

"What?" Even in the darkness of the car, you saw Rafe's empty, expecting expression, “You can’t say no now; I’m already hard.”

“No, that’s not – I mean,” You did want him to stop but the look in his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t pulled any further away from you made you realize that wasn’t an option, “Can we – Can we go slower?”

Rafe took in a breath, almost seeming frustrated. He looked you over, your top pulled low and your hard nipples poking through your shirt, “Shit,” Rafe whispered, sitting back in his seat. Shaky hands ran through his dark blonde hair, and his right leg bounced as he thought something over. He didn’t think for too long before reaching down to undo his belt. His bulge was already noticeable, too; his khakis were leaving nothing to the imagination, but you couldn’t help how your eyes widened when he fully pulled himself out of his briefs, “You did this to me, you know. You can use your mouth. Take care of me.”

You already knew this was the better idea, and you nodded your head. Another time, you’d both be sober and could have a romantic time. In a bed, preferably, after Rafe asked you to be his girlfriend. 

He reached and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to the other side of the truck. You got on your knees, wrapping your dominant hand around his base, feeling exactly how hard he was. Unexpectedly, Rafe grabbed ahold of the back of your hair, forcing your face down. You did what you thought you should do, stroking his base while lubricating the tip. You swirled your tongue around, tasting him before you took more of him in your mouth. 

Rafe’s hand was lifting up your skirt, roughly grabbing your ass, as he slowly pushed your head further down. You started to gag, taking more of him in than was comfortable, but Rafe only smacked your ass, not allowing you to come up for air. Soon you were panicking, pushing at his thighs until he let you come up for air. You pulled away, tears fell, and you coughed as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Have you ever done this before? You’re already gagging, and I’m only halfway inside your mouth.” You looked at him through blurry eyes. 

“That-That hurt, Rafe” You spoke hoarsely. 

“Hey, hey,” He grabbed ahold of your face, pulling your face closer to his, “You need more practice. You won’t learn how to take my dick any other way. C’mere.”

Again, his grip was tight on your hair. This time, he pushed his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. Your wide eyes looking at him made him smile, although there was still an emptiness behind his eyes. Slowly, he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, his gold ring touching your lips. Every time you gagged, he shushed you and often would just shove his fingers further, “You’re not going to throw up, don’t be so scared,” He said, “You can do it; I know you can, fucking slut.”

Your eyes started to close, but he snapped at you, “Watch me. This is my mouth now. I can do whatever I want, right?”

You couldn’t respond as he pushed his fingers deeper. When he could push his fingers deep, and you didn’t gag, he stopped, “There you go,” Rafe pulled his fingers from your mouth, wiping the saliva all over your cheeks before he pinched your cheeks within his hand, “I knew you could do it, Y/N.” 

Tears were falling from embarrassment, and you wanted to hyperventilate, but Rafe bent you back over his lap moments later.

+

send dark!alpha!rafe concepts/ideas if you have them :)

[gurokiitty]

hii!! i love all of ur writing and headcannons so much, would there be any chance you could write about strade kidnapping reader who just so happens to be a virgin? he knows about this thanks to some talking beforehand at the bar and later brings it up. he ends up taking their virginity (unwanted hehe) thanks a lot if u write this !! 🙈🙈🙈 feel free to change the consent !!

a/n: tysm! as a certified virgin™️, yes i can!!! <3 hope you enjoy :3

IN THE WOLF'S DEN

{ strade x virgin! gn! reader }

word count: 2.2k

warnings/tags: NSFW (graphic), NONCON, build-up, brief alcohol use, kidnapping, violence, knifeplay, blood and injury, licking and biting, mild corruption themes, loss of virginity, creampie.

Your fingers glide along the rim of your glass, tracing patterns in the condensation that pools beneath your touch. Amidst the cacophony of voices in the bar, his presence stands out, a solitary figure who commands your attention. He emerges from the crowd, his sharp features softened by the warm lights, and his eyes gleam with a dangerous allure, drawing you in with each step he takes. He slides onto the stool beside you, effortlessly claiming the space as his own.

"Name's Strade," he offers, his voice smooth and accented. You introduce yourself in return, feeling the weight of his gaze as you shift nervously in your seat.

"You look like you have something on your mind," he observes, taking a sip of his drink. You're taken aback by his directness, but something about him draws you in, a magnetic pull you find impossible to resist.

You swallow, nerves dancing beneath your skin as you meet his gaze. His presence is overwhelming, yet oddly comforting. "I guess so," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, "but it's nothing I'd share with a stranger."

His chuckle ripples through the air, a low sound that sets your pulse alight. "Ah, but aren't strangers the best confidants? No judgments, no preconceptions."

His words resonate within you, coaxing a nod of agreement. "I suppose you're right," you concede, turning your gaze back to him.

You begin to open up, sharing things you've never told any stranger before. You tell him that you're alone, that your family lives in a different city, that you feel the most lonely you have in your adult life. The words spill freely from your lips and he listens with an intensity that both unnerves and excites you. And then, almost as an afterthought, you confess a truth you've kept hidden for so long— the truth of your virginity.

Strade's reaction is immediate, his lips curling into a wolfish grin. "A virgin," he muses, his voice edged with amusement, "how intriguing."

A flush blooms across your cheeks, a blend of embarrassment and exhilaration at his reaction. Your fingers linger on the rim of your near-empty glass, his gaze holding you captive.

"In what way?" you ask, a small thrill pulsing through your veins.

Leaning closer, his smile widens, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "It's not every day you find someone so… untouched. It makes you unique, like a rare gem."

Your pulse quickens at his words, but before you can respond, the bartender interrupts; a temporary reprieve. You hastily order another drink, the liquid a balm for your nerves.

As the night wears on, you lose yourself in conversation, the sounds of the other patrons fading into insignificance. Only when the bar begins to empty does reality come crashing and you realize it's time to part ways.

"I should get going," you say, pushing yourself away from the bar. "I have an early morning." Before you can take another step, he's beside you, his hand grazing yours in a tantalizing caress. "Allow me to walk you to your car," he offers, his eyes twinkling with a dangerous glint.

There's part of you that hesitates, a silent warning echoing in the recesses of your mind; but the pull of his presence is undeniable, drawing you into his orbit once more.

The streets are quiet as you make your way through the night, the only sound is the soft shuffle of your footsteps on the pavement. You steal glances at him out of the corner of your eye, his silhouette a dark shadow against the moonlit sky.

As you round a corner into a dimly lit alley, the air suddenly thickens with an ominous tension. Your heart quickens its pace, a silent drumbeat of warning, and in an instant, he's upon you, pinning you against the rough surface of the alley wall. His grip is firm, almost bruising, as he leans in close, his hot breath fanning across your face.

"Don't make a sound," Strade whispers, sending shivers racing down your spine. His smile, once charming and enticing, now twists into something dangerous; like a predator revelling in its prey.

Panic surges within you as you struggle against his hold, your pleas swallowed by the gaping alley. With a sickening thud, your head meets brick and stars explode behind your eyelids as darkness descends like a shroud.

You awaken to the unforgiving glare of fluorescent lights, your head pounding with a dull, insistent ache. Disoriented, you blink against the harsh brightness, your surroundings slowly emerging from the haze. No longer are you in the alley; instead, you find yourself in a musty basement, the air thick with the scent of damp and decay.

Your heart lurches as you shift, feeling a cold metal pole press into your back and your arms bound tightly behind it. Panic claws at your insides, fueling a desperate struggle against the restraints.

"Ah, you're awake already?" Strade's voice cuts through the silence like a blade, sending a shiver down your spine. You turn your head to see him descending the stairs with an unsettling grace, his silhouette looming like a spectre in the dim, flickering light.

"Wha— What's going on?" you stammer, your voice trembling with fear.

He chuckles, a sound devoid of warmth, as he crouches to meet your gaze. "You don't remember? Our chat was going so well... You opened up to me about so many things,"

Dread coils in the pit of your stomach as your naivety sinks in like a lead weight. "Please, let me go," you plead, shrinking back against the cold metal pole, trying to distance yourself from him.

But he only smiles in response, seemingly unmoved by your desperation. "I wanted to get to know you on a more... intimate level," He explains, his tone disturbingly casual. "So I took you home."

Your breath catches in your throat as he moves closer, the heat of his body an unwelcome presence. With a swift motion, he withdraws a knife from his belt, the blade gleaming in the dim light.

"Please," you whimper again, tears clouding your vision. "I'll do anything, just let me go."

Strade laughs, the sound echoing in the confines of the basement. "Anything, huh?" he muses, that menacing smile still etched on his face. "Well then."

He places the knife on the floor and leans into you, his body pressing intimately against yours. He's so close you can smell him— a dreadful blend of sweat and petroleum invading your senses. Rough hands reach for the ropes binding your wrists, causing you to flinch. With deft movements, he begins to untie the knots, his fingers brushing over your skin in a way that makes your stomach churn.

The ropes fall away, and you gasp in relief, only to feel his hands seize your shoulders, shoving you back against the pole. Strade retrieves his knife and kneels before you, his bulky frame illuminated by the overhead lights.

"Now," he commands, gesturing with the blade, "strip."

You swallow hard, bile rising in the back of your throat as you meet his gaze. Slowly, with trembling hands, you begin to remove your clothes, the fabric rustling loudly in the silence of the basement.

Strade watches you intently, his eyes devouring every inch of exposed skin. You strip down to your underwear, your clothes a crumpled heap at your feet. The cool air of the basement chills your skin, and you curl into yourself, attempting to shield your body from his invasive gaze. He steps closer, his free hand brushing across your cheek.

"Have you ever stripped naked for anyone before?" he asks, almost tauntingly, his face mere inches from yours. You shake your head, your voice barely a whisper. "N-No," you manage to croak out, the response hanging between you.

Strade chuckles as if amused by your innocence. "I figured as much," he sneers, "A virgin in every sense."

He watches your reaction with a sadistic delight, savouring your fear— your vulnerability, as you shrink further into yourself.

"Aww, you're trembling," he observes, his eyes raking over your quivering form. "Niedlich."

With a sudden, brutal motion, he grabs your ankles, dragging you forward until you're sprawled on the ground before him. He crawls over you, his weight pressing heavily, the knife still firmly in his grasp.

Strade brings the knife to your chest, the cold steel kissing your skin before biting in with a sharp sting. You gasp, a cry of pain escaping your lips as the red line blossoms with warm, crimson buds. His eyes gleam with sadistic delight, his thumb pressing into the wound and smearing the blood across your skin.

"So cute," he repeats, his lips curving into a predatory smile. "I could just devour you whole!"

His tongue flicks out to trace a wet, humid stripe along your jaw, his putrid saliva mingling with your tears. "Hah... You taste sweeter than I imagined, Liebling," he purrs, and you shudder beneath him, the sensation both revolting and terrifying. His fingers then trail down your stomach, his touch like a brand against your skin.

"But you forgot something," he breathes, forcing your trembling knees apart.

Your blood runs cold as he carves a delicate line along your abdomen with the knife. He stops just below your navel and flattens the blade against your stomach, sliding it beneath your underwear. His movements are slow, deliberate, and you can feel the blade prodding the delicate skin of your groin.

Strade's breathing is quick and shallow, his breath warm across your face as the flush of excitement tints his cheeks. "Don't squirm too much," he whispers, his voice trembling with anticipation.

Without looking down, he begins to slice through the fabric of your underwear, the knife gliding effortlessly through the thin material. The sound of ripping cloth fills the silence, mingling with the rapid beat of your heart. As the last shred of fabric falls away, your body is laid bare, exposed and vulnerable beneath him.

He runs the flat of the blade over your abdomen once more, a sadistic smile spreading across his face as he revels in your fear. "So rein," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. "So unbroken. It's almost a shame." He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks, "but not quite."

As Strade sheaths the knife, you attempt to pull yourself away, the concrete chafing your palms with each drag. He follows close behind you, his cruel smile unwavering. Your heart is pounding in your ears as you desperately try to crawl faster, but it's futile. His hand clamps down on your waist with a bruising grip, yanking you back towards him.

You cry out in terror and frustration, the sound echoing in the desolate basement. He flips you onto your wounded stomach, your skin scraping painfully against the floor. With a sadistic grin, Strade forces your head down, pressing your cheek into the rough concrete. It bites harshly into your skin, and you can feel your tears mingling with the grime.

The metallic clink of a belt buckle sends a fresh wave of fear through you, and the sound of a zipper follows soon after. Your breath comes in ragged gasps as he positions himself between your legs, his weight pressing down on you. His hands roam over your body, squeezing and kneading, leaving blooms of purple on your tender skin.

His grin widens as he leans in, panting. "This may... sting a little," he taunts, his voice sticky against your ear.

"No! Wait!" you cry, your voice cracking with desperation. Your pleas are met with cold indifference as he slams into you, his cock worming past the resisting tissue and resting deep inside. A searing pain rips through your body, and you scream, the sound raw and guttural.

"Mmm, perfekt..." he huffs, revelling in your agony.

You choke on your sobs, the foreign sensation warm and heavy, and tearing with force. Something warm and wet trickles down your thighs, coating them—and him— in a cherry-red sheen. With each brutal thrust, your cheek grates against the rough concrete floor, the blistering ache engulfing your pleas. Strade shows no mercy, his movements relentless and punishing, each gasp and flinch you make fueling his perverse excitement.

"That's it," he breathes, heavy and strained. "Scream for me."

The pain blurs into a surreal haze, your mewls crumbling into incoherent moans and whimpers. Strade's weight is suffocating and his flesh is damp against yours; a clammy, sweaty layer uniting you both. His breath is hot and heavy as it mingles with the nauseating wet slapping between you.

His teeth drag threateningly along your shoulder as his thrusts become more frenzied. He curses against your skin before biting down hard on your neck with a sudden, primal urge. You yelp in pain and he cums, the warm spurts seeping deep inside your body.

Strade chuckles breathlessly as he pushes himself off of you, his eyes heavy and pupils dilated.

Your own eyes flutter open, puffy and glossed with tears as you roll over, curling into yourself on the unforgiving concrete. Through the haze, you dimly register the traces of your spit and blood splattered beside your face; the rough surface glittering almost beautifully under the light.

[kravinoffswife]

Red Hood x fem!reader (Bridgerton AU)

Authors note: I really enjoyed writing this! Sorry if Jason seems a bit OOC, I tried to make him fit with regency-era language and customs. I'm thinking of making this multiple parts because I have soooooo many ideas for chapters!

Warnings: AFAB reader, a bit of angst/flirting with sexual undertones.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *

Trepidation bubbled in her stomach as her uncle's carriage pulled onto the drive, the clip-clop of the purebred horses slowing to a halt. It was the second ball of the season; a masquerade hosted by Lady Danbury. It was also the second ball that [y/n] had ever attended having lived most of her life in the countryside. Of course, there were events amongst the nobility of Yorkshire (where she had grown up) but these were nothing more than barn dances in comparison to the glitz and grandeur of the ton.

In a bid to distract herself from the impending ball, she surveyed her environs through the small window. Even in the near-darkness she could see the sheer immensity of the building in front of her; pristine cream blocks and gargantuan pillars. The grounds were well-kept with a perfectly mown lawn, viridescent hedges and cone-shaped bushes.

Her elder cousin, Edmund, exited the carriage then took her hand and helped her onto the magnolia gravel. Each step felt like a pulsing heartbeat as they neared the entrance to the manor. Once inside, time seemed fly by and she was soon surrounded by the clamour of the London Ton. She held her mask close to her face as if that might shield her from the abrasive judgements of her fellow ball-goers. The mask was a sage green colour with delicate silver details, perfectly matching her dress, which she fidgeted with nervously with her other hand.

The hall was large, endlessly so, each wall decorated with satin curtains and ornate paintings. Daisy-yellow light was cast from the myriad of diamond chandelliers. The band was stationed in one corner, streams of music drifting from their instruments.

She did not know where to look, where to go. Her cousin had left her to catch up with some of his acquaintances from his boarding school days that just so happened to be in attendance. She drifted towards a huddle of young girls that were stood next to the refreshment table, quickly u-turning after catching a glimpse of their sour expressions.

One of said girls, a tall young lady with fair hair and bird-like facial features walked past [y/n], spilling the contents of her glass on her dress as she did so.

"Oh my, how clumsy I am!?" She said with mock apologeticness that was actually insulting. "Ever so sorry."

"I am sure you are, Cressida." [y/n] held back harsher words. Back home, she was known for her sharp tongue and volatile temper. That was part of the reason she had to leave. She refused to repeat the mistakes of her past.

"Excuse me." She pushed past Cressida and the gaggle of ball-attendees that had gathered to watch the drama ensue. She fought her way out of the room and navigated her way to the gardens. The cool spring air entering her lungs sent waves of tranquillity through her person. Solitude was finally hers, and she could not be more grateful. One thing you must get used to as a lady of London's high-society is that you are rarely truly alone. There is always a lady's maid, servant, prying peer or well-meaning familial relation nearby - or in this case a dashing young man.

He took off his crimson mask, revealing a face that was crafted by Michelangelo himself.

"Am I interrupting something?" He spoke bluntly as if having to talk to her was a chore that he would rather not have to do.

"Yes, go. You are interrupting my wallowing." She snapped before she could stop herself.

"You are not the only one who would like to use this space for wallowing, miss..." He trailed off expectantly.

"[l/n]. Miss [y/n] [l/n]."

"Jason Todd. Under other circumstances I might kiss the back of your hand and say it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Careful, Mr Todd. Lying is a sin."

He let out a bitter chuckle. "And what would you know about sin, Miss [l/n]?"

"Do not let my debutante status and nervous demeanor fool you. I know ample amounts about sin." She said the last part quietly under her breath. He raised a brow at this and wet his lips with his tongue. He took a confident step towards her and bowed his head so that his breath danced against her neck as he spoke.

"I think I shall need proof of your alleged debauchery." He said lowly. [y/n] felt an unfamiliar tingling sensation in her lower abdomen which seemed to gain in intensity the longer she breathed in his musk.

"Please, elaborate."

"What I am envisioning is not meant to be said in the presence of a lady." His fingers trailed the soft skin on the back of her neck.

"Yet you have no qualms about envisioning said things." She scoffed and cut him off as he tried to retort. "Are you scared I'll swoon?"

"If you do I shall catch you."

"How valiant." Her eyes rolled.

"Yes, quite." His eyes traced the lines on [y/n]'s lips. In the lack-luster light she could not decide whether they were blue or green, simply a cacophony of ocean shades with a fleck or two of gold. Flush crept up her neck and onto her face. Her breath hitched, chest pushing against the stiff fabric of her dress as she inhaled deeply.

"Am I making you nervous, miss [l/n]?"

She shook her head, suddenly devoid of words.

He smirked. "Do I make you excited?" His well-muscled arm encircled her waist. He gradually drew her closer to his chest. Even through his various layers of clothing, she could feel the warmth that his body radiated. [y/n] melted within his embrace. The feeling in her stomach meta-morphed to a pulsing feeling in her lower regions.

[y/n] did not get to answer his question. Edmund's voice cried out, "[y/n]! Where are you? Are you hiding? Come back the ball this instance!"

As quickly as he had come, Jason Todd disappeared, leaving only a yearning in her heart (and other parts of her body).

She had to see him again.

[shecriestotheclickingoftime]

i'm here - 1.8k words

bf!patrick zweig x shy!socialite!reader

two fics in two days?? who even is this??

this is gossiping, girly, sweet soft boyfriend patrick zweig fic 😭😭😭😭

ok so basically in this one you're a socialite girl, socially anxious and shy, and you always have to go to your parents' events and have endless small talk to impress their friends. and you hate it. but this time, you have your sweet boyfriend patrick there, with his "zweig charm", to handle it for you.

fluff, soft!patrick zweig (as always w me), and just basically yeah. i imagined it as college era patrick zweig, and classes/academics get mentioned once, but in general it's not set in a super specific time period.

partially inspired by a conversation i had with @grimsonandclover and a bot that she made, so creds to the loml annie for that!! and for inspiring me to write patrick “one of the girls” zweig because he is very much present in this fic. and also a million thanks to @newrochellechallenger2019 for discussing the idea with me earlier <333

and i wrote this with fem!reader in mind, and like you wearing a dress and heels is mentioned, and patrick is taller than you, but if you ignore that this could generally be read as gender neutral? but do be aware of that!

ok that's it! i hope u enjoy!!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

you'd always hated going to your parents' events. you were already shy and more on the introverted side, so having to spend the whole night in a crowded place full of your parents' coworkers and friends, and being expected to greet all of them and "make the rounds" felt like pure torture. the music was always bad, the guests were always obnoxious, and your social anxiety always went through the roof.

luckily for you, your boyfriend was the complete opposite. patrick zweig thrived in social settings, always having his loud, cocky persona on, and it seemed like he never ran out of things to say. so, when one of your parents' dreaded events was coming up, it was a no-brainer fro you to invite him as your plus-one. 

he always seemed to understand you, and your nonverbal cues, in a way that not even you could fully understand. he could always tell when you were anxious. 

so, there you were, in your bedroom, slipping on your red-bottomed heels in your silky black dress, patrick sitting on your bed waiting for you to get ready.

"i really, really don't want to go," you sigh, slipping on your shoes and sitting next to patrick on the bed. you lean your head on his shoulder as he puts his arm around you, rubbing circles on your back reassuringly. 

"you look nice. and it'll be fine, i'm here with you this time," he says gently, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "if you get overwhelmed, i can take over. i'll do all the talking."

you smile softly at his reassurances, resting against him for a moment before your parents call you down, saying that its time to leave. 

you get up, as patrick slips on his suit jacket, and intertwines his hand with yours as you walk down the stairs, and out of the house into the car that's taking you to the event. you sit in the third row with patrick, your parents in the row in front of you, as the driver begins to pull away to take you all to the gala.

the silence of the car is only interrupted by the sound of the heater blowing and your parent's quite, idle chatter. you leg bounces as you anxiously anticipate the event, going over names in your head and trying to craft the introduction and greeting you'll give everyone, like you're trying to memorize lines in a script. you look out the window, spacing out, when you feel patrick scooting from his seat on the opposite side of the row to the middle seat. he intertwines his hand with yours, lifting them to press a kiss to the back of your hand, whispering affirmations like "it's ok" and "i'm here" to you under his breath. 

you look over at him with a nervous smile, him meeting you with a wide grin. "i like that i get to take you to one of these," he whispers, quiet enough that no one else in the car could hear it, as his thumb rubs circles in your hand. "we can be judgey together, you know? i know how much you like to gossip about the outfits. i'll make it actually fun to be there, you know," he murmurued, his grin turning smug as he watched your anxiety break a little as you let out a quiet laugh. 

"yeah, yeah, sure," you whisper back, rolling your eyes withy a smile as you lean your head onto his shoulder. "i'm glad you're coming with me to this," you say sincerely, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head in response.

"of course i'm here. that's my job as a boyfriend isn't it?" he laughs, letting you relax against him, sitting comfortably in the silence of the car ride as you near the venue. "you look beautiful tonight, you know."

he feels you smile as you hide your face in his shoulder. even though you guys have bee dating for a while, you still get shy at patrick's compliments, and he loves it. 

you nuzzle into his shoulder, trying to find some peace in the quiet, as the car pstarts to park in front of the venue. the event is some sort of charity gala and auction, being held in the ballroom of some sort of museum. as you climb out of the car, patrick holding your hand as you climb out, you feel the cold winter air nipping at your skin. but patrick is quick, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in as you walk up to the door and go in. 

the music is boring and loud, and the lights are dim and blue. the chatter is dull and business-oriented around you, and you see your parents walking up to a group of "friends" with fake smiles pressed on their faces as you take patrick's hand, letting him guide you near a corner of the room.

"i hate it here already" you whisper to him, as he looks down at you with a sweet grin. "i know you do, baby," he says, placing his arms around your waist again, resting it there as you stand near the wall and look into the room. 

"god, that suit is ugly," patrick whispers to you, a cocky grin on his face as he motions toward a man is a vibrant purple velvet suit, brown shoes and a matching purple velvet tie. "who dressed him? who let him leave the house like that? they should be ashamed of themselves," patrick says, his voice getting a bit louder as he looks down at you, trying to read your face.

his smile grows wider when he sees you break into a soft smile, giggling under your breath. he himself didn't know too much about fashion, or care too much in general, but he knew the light gossip put you at ease, so he tried to learn from your preferences, memorizing the little fasion rules that you'd set. and, to be fair, even he could tell that the man's suit was fugly. 

you whisper back, "and that lady... she looks like she's pushing 70, wearing a sequin mini-dress to a black-tie charity event. what is she doing?" you say, your grin widening, as patrick squeezes your hip gently, both of you trying hard to stifle your laughter.

patrick bends down to press a kiss to your head, a force of habit of his, rubbing your back as you two look around the room, pointing out and nitpicking random outfits, or hairstyles, or lame song choices from the dj. 

“what's the point of even hiring a dj if he's this shitty?" you whisper up to patrick, your words engulfed in laughter as you try to get them out, "i could play better music for free, just give me an aux cord and a spotify playlist" you giggle, as patrick nods his head, laughing a little too loud for a formal event like this. 

"shhhh... people might look" you say, playfully scolding patrick as he looks down at you fondly. 

of course, the moment had to be interrupted by your parents waving you over to their little group of work friends, as you sigh, pressing a fake smile to your face and nodding as the group looks over at you. "fuck, not this again" you whisper through your teeth at patrick, trying your best to keep your smile from falling into a frustrated grimace. it wasn't that you disliked your parents, or their friends for that matter, but it always felt like the same routine every time. you getting singled out, asked about school, grilled about random future job prospects, as you slowly felt your insides cruble further into an anxiety-fueled despair as you repeat the same lines, over and over, to every other little group that your parents want to "show you off" to. 

but patrick just grabs your hand, squeezing it gently, pressing an easygoing samile onto his face, and nodding at you reassuringly. you're not sure what he means by that, but you know he's going to try and take caare of you like he always does. patrick zweig, always the charmer.

you greet the group, introducing patrick as your boyfriend, seeing his smile turn a little smug as you claim him.

you squeeze his hand as the adults around you start to ask questions, and you answer, trying to turn it into some sort of conversation instead of just an itnerview. and patrick follows along perfectly, using his "zweig charm" (as he calls it) to cover for you, squeezing your hand every so often as he talks you up to your parents friends, raving about the newest classes you're taking, and the advanced concepts you explain to him. he makes sure to give you space to speak whenever you want, always jumping in whenever you get overwhelmed, always able to keep up his social, smug act flawless, even when you get shy.

you finally get to a point where you're able to break off the conversation, smiling and excusing yourself from the circle, letting out a breath as you step away from your performance.

"that wasn't so bad," you say to patrick, hands still intertwined as you pull him to the edge of the room again, taking a breather from the crowd of people conversating about business and whatever, turning around to face in again and just get some time to talk with him. "but i still want to go home," you complain, a joking smile on your face, as the two of you stand at the edge of the room. 

you feel him pull you into his arms, your back pressed against his chest as he snakes his arm around your waist, both of you looking into the room. he towers over you like this, resting his chin on the top of your head as he holds you tightly.

"you're doing great, baby" he affirms, his voice soft and sweet. "the cocktail and dinner time will end soon anyways, so we can be done with small talking with everyone soon. when the auction starts we can just sit down and gossip again," he says in a low voice, giving you a gentle squeeze as he holds you. 

and the night continued like that, patrick holding your hand through it all, jumping into conversations when you got overwhelmed, letting you cling to him around the room. and every time your parents called you over to talk to some other friends, the process felt a little easier, a little lighter, because you had patrick there.

"always the charmer," you whispered at him, teasing, as you walked away from yet another conversation about your future and politics and whatnot, with some of your parents friends you couldn't even remember the names of anymore.

and when you sat at the table, as the speeches and charity auction started, you and patrick sat, whispering to each other quietly andf stifling laughter. 

and this night felt easier than any other event you'd had to go to before. because patrick was there for you, always. and as the night ended, and you walked out, you thought to yourself, "maybe these event's aren't always so torturous after all" 

:)))

[ashen-char]

brace yourself

ship: amber freeman (scream) x fem reader

warnings: some jokes about blood/murder since its amber yknow, not much tho

summary: after getting braces, you feel insecure about it. your girlfriend amber reassures you about it

word count: 1100+

notes: requested here. thank you <3 i dont know too much abt braces but i hope you like it regardless

Awkward would be the first word that jumps into your head about how you're feeling right now. Your mouth feels weird, your lips and cheeks feeling crowded like there's suddenly not enough space in your mouth. You can't help running your tongue over the brackets and wires as your orthodontist speaks to you. He's telling you about how to take care of them, what foods not to eat, things to avoid. You're not really paying attention. Instead, you nod along to pretend you're listening when internally all you're thinking about is whether Amber would totally hate it.

When you had told her about the possibility of you getting braces, you couldn't really read your girlfriend's reaction. Amber was a big part of why you had grown to accept your old smile. She had made you confident in something you used to hate when you were younger, always telling you how much she liked it, always trying to make you smile so she could see it.

Your orthodontist hands you a pamphlet that sums up all the care he was describing, and after thanking him you stuff it into your pocket. That's when your phone buzzes with a text from Amber.

Hey, babe! Can't wait to see u. How was it?

You take a deep breath and type back quickly. Walking out of the clinic, you get into your car. You two had planned a date for after your appointment so that Amber could treat you while your gums and stuff were still all achey. It's cute how much she wanted to take care of you.

ah it went alright. give me a few? omw to pick you up

You catch sight of yourself in the rearview mirror. You flash a smile to inspect how the braces look, if it's really as different as it feels. The braces are clear as day in the bright pink you chose, like they're mocking you. You had picked a colour you liked in hopes that it'd cheer you up but maybe that was a bad idea.

Sitting on your driver's seat, you think about Amber's perfect smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners when she laughs. What if she notices the braces first thing? What if she thinks they’re ugly? Or what if she'll be disappointed that they're just... different?

Your thoughts are interrupted when Amber texts back. There's no time to worry about what she'll think - she'll see you in a few minutes whether you like it or not.

Getting changed. See ya mwah

Sighing, you buckle your seatbelt and turn the ignition key. There's no stalling when Amber's waiting for you.

By the time you pull up in the driveway of her house, Amber is already waiting at her front door. She lights up upon seeing you, walking out to your car before you even had the chance to go to her front door.

"Hey, babe," she says, sliding into the passenger seat. "How was the orthodontist?"

"Hey. And fine, I guess," you answer, barely even turning to look at her. You hesitate for a moment, wondering if you should go in for a kiss like you usually do. You've heard these stories about braces getting stuck together when people made out, or the brackets cutting lips. You don't wanna hurt Amber.

You hadn't even realised that you were pursing your lips shut until Amber calls you out on it. "What's with the frown, huh? Hiding them from me?" she asks teasingly.

"I-" you go to argue back, but inside you know she's right. It might have been unconscious but you didn't want her to see yet. Didn't want the opportunity to be judged.

"It can't be that bad," Amber says. "Come on. You haven't even kissed me hello yet."

You bite your lip. "I'm just nervous to kiss you with these," you mumble, still trying your best not to talk too much. "I dunno how to. It could scratch you or something."

Amber rolls her eyes. As if something that small would prevent her from kissing her girlfriend. She goes to playfully nudge your arm. "I'm tougher than that. Kissing you 'til I bleed sounds kinda fun, actually. Kinky."

You can't help but to smile at her playful tone. Amber made you forget that you were trying to keep your lips from parting too much. "I should've known you'd say that."

When you speak, Amber goes to hold your face in your hand, holding your jaw to keep your mouth open. "Ah, don't close 'em again. I wanna see!"

And well, you're a simp so you tend to do whatever your girlfriend wants. You feel your cheeks heat up as she studies you, your mouth pulled to a smile to show them to Amber.

"Cute. Pink," she notes. Amber tilts your jaw, looking at you from every angle. "You're always cute."

You avoid her gaze. When she has your face tilted back to look directly at her, relief flows over you when you can see she's being genuine. She likes it. She still thinks you're cute. "Shut up," you say, but you're smiling now.

"Is that all you were worried about, babe? Can I get a kiss from my girlfriend now?"

It's not like your nerves can go away with a few words. As much as she says it's OK now, you don't wanna ruin kissing her. You don't wanna scratch up those soft pillowy lips you love kissing so much. But still, Amber always gets what she wants. And if she thinks a little bit of blood would be hot, well so be it.

"Alright," you breathe out, weak to how she's cupping your face. "If you do it softly. Don't scratch yourself."

"Don't tell me what to do," is her jokey reply. Still, Amber closes the distance, pressing a soft and tentative (on your end, at least) kiss to your lips. You’re hyper-aware of the braces, but her kiss is gentle, careful, and all your fears of metal mishaps melt away. When she pulls back, she’s smiling, her eyes sparkling. “See? Not so bad, right?”

You laugh, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Not bad at all.”

"Were you seriously nervous?" Amber laughs. She swats your arm, thinking you're ridiculous. "As if you could be anything but cute to me. Why would I care about some braces?"

"I dunno... You think the others will say anything?" you ask, of Amber's friends.

"They're not gonna laugh. And if they do, I'll knife em' in their sleep for ya. You know me, babe. I wouldn't let anyone make fun of my girl." Amber smirked, her trademark dark humour helping lighten the mood. She squeezes your thigh in a show of quick reassurance before going to do her seatbelt. "Now hurry up and take me out, I'm fucking starving."