#if only i pulled bitches irl sigh

[nyaskitten]

not to yearn for women on main but... man I love women...

[lulujeno]

crush culture — lee jeno ᡣ𐭩

summary : liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.

warnings : mentions of alcohol/drinking, kissing, cusswords, angst!! (this does not portray how the idols are irl, all the things here are written to match the song crush culture by conan gray!!)

wc : 6.3k

a/n : reader uses she/her pronouns !! jerk!jeno and bestfriend!mark :D thank u for 100+ followers ~~ cant believe i managed to pull out more than 5k words out of my ass >< my finals are currently happening so that's why i've been ia for soooo long :( i promise when i'm done i'll be clearing out both my drafts and requests ^^

Seeing your best friend, Belle, flirt with Jeno on your couch hit harder than you ever expected. The way they leaned into each other, laughter spilling from their lips like a sweet melody, made your stomach churn in a way that felt foreign and unwelcome. You had no right to feel this way, not when you knew about her crush on him. You had even agreed to be her wingman tonight, setting up this moment so she could finally have her chance. But somehow, along the way, you fell for him too, your heart weaving itself into a tapestry of unspoken feelings and bitter regret.

You should feel happy for her, after all her efforts to catch his attention, but the tight knot in your chest made it impossible to be anything but miserable. “It’s fine. Be happy. It’s your birthday, after all,” you whispered under your breath, trying to convince yourself. The words felt heavy, lacking the enthusiasm they were meant to carry. You exhaled a shaky breath before heading to the kitchen, desperate to escape the sight of them together.

The kitchen was warm, filled with the faint scent of alcohol and fruity punch hanging in the air like an unwelcoming fog. Mark stood by the counter, effortlessly mixing drinks with an ease that told you he’d done this a hundred times before. He glanced up as you entered, and a flicker of concern passed over his face when he caught sight of your downcast expression. He flicked his eyes toward the living room, and you knew he had noticed. Most of your friends knew about your crush on Jeno. It wasn’t something you talked about much, but the way your eyes lingered on him said enough.

“You okay?” Mark asked, his voice low, but the concern was clear, filling the space between you like a fragile glass.

You could only shrug, unsure of how to explain the whirlpool of emotions churning within your chest. It felt too complicated to articulate.

Without a word, he whipped up a drink, something colourful and sweet, and handed it to you. The condensation from the glass cooled your palm, but it did little to soothe the fire raging inside. The drink looked vibrant, but you could already tell it was just a disguise for the hollowness you felt.

“She’s kind of a bitch for doing that in front of you,” Mark muttered, glancing back at the couch, his fingers absentmindedly wiping down the counter. His words hung in the air like a lifebuoy tossed your way, and for a moment, it felt like they were offering you a chance to vent, to express all the things you were holding back. But you shook your head, pushing the thoughts down.

“Not really,” you sighed, taking a sip of the drink. The sweetness coated your tongue, but it tasted like nothing, a mere distraction. “I’m the bitch here. Liking the same guy as my best friend, after she tells me she likes him, that kind of thing breaks girl code.”

Mark furrowed his eyebrows, his confusion evident. “Girl code? Really?” He scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Come on, Belle falls for every guy who looks her way. Everyone knows that. Besides, you actually have a better shot, Jeno knows you, trusts you. You should go for it.”

You nearly choked on your drink, laughter bubbling up despite your mood. “Yeah, and get a reputation for stealing my friends’ crushes? No thanks, Mark. I’ll pass.” You handed him the empty glass, watching as he refilled it, his movements swift and practiced. The glint of the alcohol under the dim kitchen lights reflected how your emotions felt; messy and swirling, a whirlpool threatening to pull you under.

Mark sighed, exasperated. “It’s your party. Don’t let them get in your head. Go have some fun.” He handed you the new drink with a smile, but before you could take another sip, he added, “And don’t drink too much. You can’t handle it, and we both know it.”

But after two glasses, fun was the last thing you felt. The sight of Jeno and Belle still played in your mind, a vivid loop that made the alcohol churn uncomfortably in your stomach. You tried to find Belle in the crowded room, but she was nowhere to be seen. After asking around and realising Jeno wasn’t there either, the pit in your stomach grew deeper. You knew what that probably meant.

You found yourself wandering back to the kitchen, your mind foggy but determined to drown out the ache with another drink. Mark raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to see you again. When you asked for yet another glass, he sighed deeply, a mixture of concern and frustration in his expression.

“This is your last one,” he warned, handing you the drink reluctantly. “You can’t handle much. I don’t want to have to carry you out of your own party.”

But Mark’s warning felt like a distant echo in your ears. By the time you were begging for a fourth drink, all caution had slipped away, and you couldn’t care less about the consequences. The music in the living room was thumping, laughter echoing like a cruel reminder of your current situation, and all you could feel was the weight of everything you couldn’t have — Jeno, your peace, the ability to not care.

“I already told you, no more drinks. You’re cut off,” Mark said, frustration clear in his voice. “I’ll get you some water instead.”

As he turned to open the fridge, you took your chance. The cold metal of a beer can brushed against your fingertips as you snatched it from the counter. You were so focused on your mission to drown out the pain that you didn’t notice Mark turning back toward you.

“y/n,” he snapped, his tone stern, “let go of the can. You’re going to regret this.”

You raised the can to your lips, but Mark was quicker. His hand reached out to grab it from you, and in the struggle, the can slipped from your grasp. The beer splashed everywhere — over your shirt, dripping down your arms, and pooling on the floor. The cold liquid seeped through your clothes, clinging to your skin, making you gasp at the sudden chill. Mark groaned, grabbing a napkin from the counter as you stood there, drenched, with a look of defiance still written across your face.

Undeterred, you tried to tilt the can toward your mouth, desperate to drink whatever was left inside, despite the mess. “Come on, y/n, you’re making this harder than it needs to be,” Mark sighed, exasperation laced in his tone as he managed to pry the can away for good this time.

The alcohol-soaked shirt clung to your body, the sticky sensation uncomfortable, but you were too far gone to care. The frustration bubbling inside wasn’t going to be soothed by just a drink anymore. You were angry, angry at Belle, at Jeno, at the fact that you had let yourself feel anything at all.

Before you could make another move, a strong hand wrapped around your wrist, prying you away from the counter. You froze, looking up into the familiar dark eyes you’d been avoiding all night — Jeno.

The world felt like it stopped as Jeno glanced from you to Mark, his brows furrowed in mild concern. “Help me out here, Jen. She’s had too much already, and she won’t listen to me,” Mark said, his voice weary but relieved that someone else could take over.

Jeno’s gaze softened as he looked down at your soaked shirt, a mixture of amusement and concern crossing his face. He let out a small sigh, his grip gentle but firm as he took the can from your hand and replaced it with a bottle of water. “You’re done with the drinks for tonight, okay?” he said softly, his voice holding the same care you’d heard earlier.

Before you could protest, Jeno wrapped his arm around you, guiding you out of the kitchen, away from the noise and the eyes of your curious friends. The walk to your room was a blur, but the warmth of his hand on your waist kept you grounded, even as the alcohol swirled in your system.

The sight of Belle sobbing into someone’s shoulder as you passed through the hallway barely registered in your hazy mind. You were too focused on the warmth of Jeno’s presence beside you, the way his touch lingered longer than necessary, as if he was anchoring you.

Once in your room, Jeno gently guided you to sit on the edge of your bed, his touch careful as if he was afraid you might fall over. His eyes roamed over your beer-soaked clothes, a soft chuckle escaping him. “You’re a mess,” he teased, though his voice held no judgment. If anything, it was laced with concern, the kind of worry that felt warm and comforting instead of scolding.

You glanced down at yourself, wincing as you finally took in the state of your shirt. The beer stains were obvious now, dark patches clinging to the fabric and sticking to your skin in an uncomfortable way. You grimaced, the sticky sensation making you feel even more self-conscious. The alcohol had dulled the sharpness of your embarrassment, but not entirely. A faint blush crept up your cheeks as you mumbled, “I should change…”

You attempted to push yourself off the bed, but your limbs were heavy, sluggish from the alcohol coursing through your system. Your balance wavered, and you nearly stumbled forward before Jeno’s hand gently pressed on your shoulder, keeping you steady.

Without saying a word, he crossed the room to your closet, rummaging through the clothes until he found one of your oversized t-shirts. He walked back to you with that same quiet focus, kneeling down to your level, holding the clean shirt in his hands. His gaze met yours for a moment, and something in his expression made your heart skip a beat.

“Here,” Jeno said softly, his voice just above a whisper. “Let me help.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers reached for the hem of your beer-stained shirt. He moved slowly, giving you plenty of time to object, to stop him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The closeness of him, the way his eyes held nothing but tenderness. It was like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this charged, intimate bubble.

Jeno’s hands were careful as he lifted the fabric, peeling it away from your sticky skin with a precision that made your pulse quicken. The cool air hit you, contrasting the warmth of his touch. Every time his fingers brushed your arms, it sent shivers through you. It wasn’t overtly intimate, but the care he took in making sure you were comfortable made the moment feel far more meaningful than it should have.

Once your shirt was off, he handed you the fresh one, his eyes deliberately focused anywhere but your body, giving you the privacy to finish. You quickly pulled the oversized shirt over your head, feeling the soft cotton fabric glide down. Your cheeks burned, not from the alcohol, but from the way Jeno’s thoughtfulness had disarmed you, leaving your heart racing in its wake.

When you were finally settled in your clean shirt, Jeno took a step back, his hands awkwardly fumbling at his sides, unsure of what to do next. “Better?” he asked, his voice quiet but sincere.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The warmth pooling in your chest wasn’t just from the remnants of alcohol, but from the way Jeno had cared for you, so gentle and attentive. The kindness in his actions made your emotions swirl even more intensely.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you heavy with something unspoken. The room felt smaller with Jeno in it, the atmosphere charged with a new kind of tension. It wasn’t uncomfortable though. If anything, it felt safe. Like he was there to make sure you were okay, to take care of you, in a way that made your heart feel lighter despite the whirlwind of the night.

Jeno’s eyes flicked from the bed to you, a soft concern still lacing his gaze. “You should get some rest. It’s been a long night.”

You climbed under the covers, feeling the exhaustion settling into your bones now that the noise of the party was long behind you. As you laid down, Jeno lingered by your side for a moment, his hand briefly brushing your shoulder before he moved to sit at your desk. His presence filled the room, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Jeno?” your voice came out as a soft murmur, barely loud enough to reach him, but he turned to you right away.

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment before whispering, “Thanks… for everything.”

A small smile pulled at the corner of his lips, the soft light in your room making his features look even kinder than usual. “Get some sleep, y/n. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

You closed your eyes for a brief second, trying to process what was happening. Jeno was in your room. The Jeno. The one who was always surrounded by friends, admired by so many. The same Jeno your best friend had been talking about for months, and the one you, slowly but surely, had found yourself falling for.

The alcohol still buzzed in your veins, loosening your inhibitions just enough to make you bolder than usual. This was your chance, maybe Mark had been right all along. Jeno was here, with you, taking care of you in ways that felt like more than just friendly concern. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t imagining the way he stayed close tonight, the way his eyes lingered a little longer.

It was now or never.

The air in the room felt heavy, thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. Jeno sat at your desk, his steady gaze unreadable as you shifted under the covers, a mix of nervousness and warmth blooming in your chest. The alcohol had numbed your inhibitions, but the electricity between you both was impossible to ignore.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, trying to ground yourself in the fabric, though it did little to help. “It’s cold,” you mumbled, barely audible, your voice betraying the hint of vulnerability you didn’t want to show. In truth, the room was a bit chilly, but more than anything, you longed for his presence next to you. The space between you felt far too wide, like an unspoken barrier you didn’t know how to cross without risking everything.

Jeno’s eyes flickered toward you, his hesitation lingering in the silence that stretched between you. After a beat, he stood up from the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, as if carefully weighing each step. Your breath hitched as he approached, and your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation curling in your stomach.

Wordlessly, Jeno slid under the covers beside you, his warmth instantly chasing away the cold. His scent, a comforting mix of cologne and something undeniably him, wrapped around you, making your head spin. Instinctively, you leaned into him, your head finding its place against his chest. His arm moved naturally around you, pulling you closer, and you melted into the embrace, feeling his heartbeat against your cheek.

With Jeno’s warmth cocooning you, the outside world felt like a distant dream. The party’s once-loud music had faded into a faint murmur, barely audible over the sound of his steady breathing. Every now and then, his breath grazed your hair, sending tiny shivers down your spine. You stayed perfectly still, afraid that even the slightest movement would break this fragile moment, this perfect stillness.

“Is it still cold?” Jeno’s voice was low, a gentle murmur that seemed to sink into your very bones.

A small smile tugged at your lips, and you pressed yourself closer to him, allowing the exhaustion of the night to wash over you. “Not anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath. His arm tightened around you in response, as if silently saying that he wasn’t going anywhere. That, even just for tonight, you had him.

The soft light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow over the room, its dim shadows creating a cozy, intimate space that felt removed from reality. The world beyond your bedroom door seemed to slow, leaving only the two of you in this quiet bubble, suspended in time. You found yourself wishing that you could capture this feeling forever, keep this warmth and peace bottled up in your heart.

Jeno’s hand rested on your waist, his fingers moving in slow, absentminded circles over the fabric of your shirt. His touch was so gentle, so careful, that it sent little sparks dancing across your skin. It wasn’t just the alcohol making you dizzy; it was the tenderness in every brush of his fingers, the way he held you like you were something delicate.

“You’re always running around, taking care of everyone,” he murmured softly, his words carrying a weight that tugged at your heart. “Who takes care of you, y/n?”

His question hung in the air, the raw sincerity in his voice cutting through you. A lump formed in your throat, and you blinked rapidly to keep the sudden tears at bay. You hadn’t expected him to say something like that. Who did take care of you? For as long as you could remember, you were the one who held everything together, the one who put everyone else’s needs before your own. But in this moment, with Jeno’s arms wrapped around you, it felt like someone was finally seeing past all of that—seeing you.

“I… I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you admitted the truth aloud. “I guess I’m just used to it.”

Jeno shifted beside you, his body pressing closer, his breath now warm against your ear. “You deserve more than that,” he said softly, his voice low and earnest, each word landing like a promise. “You deserve someone who’ll take care of you, too.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you swallowed hard, trying to hold back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. His words felt too good, too perfect, and a part of you was afraid to believe them. Afraid to believe that someone like Jeno could really see you like that, could want to take care of you.

Still, in this moment, wrapped in his warmth, you allowed yourself to pretend — to imagine, if only for tonight, that this could be your reality. That Jeno could be yours.

His thumb traced another slow circle on your side, his touch so gentle it was almost hypnotic. “I don’t want you to forget tonight,” he whispered, his voice even quieter now, like he was sharing a secret meant just for you.

You turned in his arms, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes locked with his. There was something in his gaze, something soft and unspoken, that made your heart race. His face was inches from yours, his breath warm on your skin, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop altogether.

You swallowed, the words escaping you before you could think twice. “What if I do?”

For a moment, Jeno’s expression darkened, his gaze flicking down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. Then, in a movement so gentle it felt like a dream, he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. The contact sent a shiver through you, your whole body reacting to the warmth of his touch.

“Then I’ll remind you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice barely above a whisper.

The night blurred into a series of quiet moments. Soft touches, shared whispers, and a closeness that felt too tender, too fragile to belong to the real world. You could have stayed in that moment forever, tangled in Jeno’s warmth, pretending that the world outside didn’t exist.

But, as always, reality had a way of creeping back in.

Jeno’s phone buzzed on the desk beside him, the soft vibrations shattering the stillness. He sighed, his arm loosening from around you as he reached for the phone, the glow of the screen illuminating his face. You watched as his brows furrowed, his expression tense as he scrolled through the dozens of missed calls and messages.

“Shit,” he muttered, sitting up, his warmth slipping away from you entirely.

The cold rushed in immediately, filling the space where Jeno had been, and your heart sank. You knew what was coming next.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, already knowing the answer but dreading hearing it aloud.

Jeno ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the set of his jaw. “The guys… They’ve been calling me nonstop. I told them I’d leave with them, they’re my only ride home.” His voice was tinged with regret, but beneath it, you could sense the guilt.

You forced a smile, trying to mask the disappointment that was tightening in your chest. “It’s fine,” you lied, propping yourself up on your elbow. “You should go.”

Jeno glanced down at his phone again, then back at you, his jaw tightening as he hesitated. “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said quietly, his voice thick with the conflict swirling inside him.

You shook your head, the ache in your chest growing. “I’ll be okay,” you whispered, your words feeling hollow. “Really. Go.”

For a fleeting moment, you held onto the hope that Jeno might stay. The way he looked at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that made your heart race, felt like a promise unspoken. But then the phone buzzed again, shattering the delicate moment. You watched as his resolve shifted, the warmth in his gaze giving way to a distant sadness.

With a heavy sigh, he rose from the bed, the fabric of the moment tearing slightly as he slipped his phone into his pocket. The air around you felt colder, thick with unspoken words and lingering emotions, as if the very room held its breath. Just before he reached the door, he hesitated, turning back to you one last time. His eyes softened as they met yours, and he stepped back toward the bed, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. It was soft and lingering, yet it carried the weight of finality.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” he whispered, his breath brushing against your skin, leaving a warmth that contrasted the chill that enveloped you after he left.

And then, he was gone.

The weekend stretched endlessly, an expanse of silence that felt like an aching void where his presence had been. No calls. No texts. Just the stark absence of his warmth and the echo of the night you had shared. With each passing hour, the memory of Jeno’s embrace faded, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts and an unsettling sense of regret.

You spent the next two days trapped in a loop of memories, replaying every moment over and over. The way he looked at you with such intensity, the way he held you close, the sincerity in his voice when he told you that you deserved better. You ached to reach out to him, to check if he still remembered the fleeting magic of that night. But every time you reached for your phone, a wave of fear stopped you cold. The thought of his response, what he might say or, worse, what he might not say, paralyzed you.

By the time Monday rolled around, you had convinced yourself that maybe it was better this way. Pretending nothing had happened would be the safest path. After all, he would slip back into his life with friends, back to the way things were before, and you would have to bear the weight of your choices alone.

As you stepped through the school doors, you immediately felt the weight of stares bearing down on you. Whispers trailed you down the hall like a shadow, and you quickly pieced together the rumors that had spread like wildfire. Word had gotten out about you and Jeno, and Belle had undoubtedly heard every detail.

It wasn’t long before she found you. Standing by your locker, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, her glare twisted your stomach into knots.

“I can’t believe you, Y/N,” Belle hissed, her voice sharp and full of venom. “You promised me you’d be there for me. You said you’d help me with Jeno, and instead, you—” She cut herself off, her voice trembling with barely contained fury.

You swallowed hard, guilt and shame coiling tightly in your chest. “Belle, I—”

“No,” she interrupted, her eyes flashing with hurt. “Don’t. Don’t act like you didn’t know. Everyone’s talking about how you left the party together. You think I didn’t see the way he looks at you?”

Your heart plummeted, a heavy weight in your stomach. You longed to explain, to articulate that it hadn’t been what it looked like, that you hadn’t intended for any of it to happen. But deep down, you knew the truth: you had crossed a line, and no amount of explanation would erase the breach of trust.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“It’s not fair. I was so close to having him, Y/N. I was right there, and then you had to ruin it for me.” Belle’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, but her expression hardened like ice. “You’re a liar. You promised to help,” she spat coldly, turning away from you. “You’re no better than the rest of them. Maybe you should’ve tried harder not to ruin everything.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you with the sharp sting of her betrayal echoing in the silence behind her.

You stood there, frozen, as the world around you faded into a blurry haze of whispers and judgmental stares. The hallway stretched out longer than usual, each step feeling like an uphill battle against the suffocating air thick with unspoken words. You could almost see the rumours swirling like storm clouds, brewing around you as classmates shot knowing glances. Some gleeful, others disdainful, while they whispered behind your back, oblivious to the truth.

You made it through the day by shrinking into yourself, avoiding everyone as if they were fragments of glass waiting to cut you. Each laugh from a group nearby felt like a mockery, reminding you of how the moments you shared with Jeno now felt like scattered shards, impossible to clean up without inflicting wounds on your heart. Every time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls, your chest tightened as his eyes flicked toward you for just a fleeting second before looking away, as if that one shared night had evaporated into thin air. Maybe it had for him.

The days following that night passed under a strange, silent agreement between you and Jeno. Neither of you acknowledged what had happened. No messages. No lingering glances. No awkward conversations. It was as if you had both silently decided that pretending it hadn’t meant anything was the easiest way to cope. But you couldn't shake the feeling that, to him, it truly hadn’t.

At school, Jeno slipped seamlessly back into the rhythm of his life, surrounded by his friends, laughter pouring from their mouths as if nothing had changed. He blended effortlessly into the crowd of popular kids, exuding an air of confidence that was painfully absent in you. Later, you overheard snippets of their conversations, casual, dismissive remarks. “She’s not worth it, man. You could do way better,” Haechan chuckled, as if your very existence was a punchline. Jeno merely shrugged, his indifference cutting deeper than any blade. “It was nothing.”

The words pierced through your carefully constructed defences, more painful than you could have anticipated. They shouldn’t have stung; after all, you had spent the entire weekend convincing yourself that you didn’t care, that it was just a fleeting moment. But those three words echoed in your mind, a relentless mantra: It was nothing.

Still, you played your part. Whenever you passed him in the halls or found yourself near his group during lunch, you donned a mask of indifference so convincingly that you almost started to believe it yourself. You laughed with your other friends, pretended to focus in class, and convinced yourself that forgetting was the best option. You were adept at pretending, had to be, but that night continued to linger, haunting you like a bittersweet melody you couldn't silence.

The only person who seemed to peel back your façade was Mark. You never spoke about that night directly, but he could read between the lines. He noticed the way your gaze avoided Jeno, how your laughter felt forced, and how your smile no longer reached your eyes.

One afternoon, when the weight of everything felt too heavy to bear, you found yourself gravitating toward Mark. He sat on the grass at the edge of the soccer field, scribbling furiously in his notebook. You dropped down beside him, the warmth of the sun contrasting with the cold ache in your chest. He looked up, brow raised, but he didn’t say anything right away, giving you space to breathe.

“I don’t know what I’m doing anymore,” you finally admitted, staring into the distance as the horizon blurred with your emotions.

Mark closed his notebook, shifting his full attention to you. “Want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, frustration bubbling inside you. “Not really. Just… everything’s a mess.”

He didn’t press you, but his unwavering gaze bore into you, his concern palpable. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I can tell you’re not okay.”

The tightness in your chest intensified at his words, and you forced a laugh that felt hollow. “It’s not a big deal. I barely even remember that night, anyway.”

Mark didn’t buy it. He never did. “You don’t have to lie to me. But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay too.”

The silence stretched between you, filled with all the unsaid things that hung heavy in the air. You stared at the ground, fighting the emotions that threatened to spill over.

“Jeno didn’t say anything, did he?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could hold it back.

Mark sighed, leaning back on his hands. “He’s pretending it never happened, too. His friends… Well, they’re being assholes, like always. Told him he could do better. You know how they are.”

You nodded, the weight of disappointment sinking deeper into your bones. Of course they would say that. Of course Jeno would follow their lead. It was easier to dismiss the connection you had shared, to act like you hadn’t been wrapped up in each other, sharing warmth and vulnerability in a way that felt almost sacred.

Sensing your shift in mood, Mark nudged your shoulder lightly, offering a small smile. “Look, I’m not gonna pretend to understand what’s going on in Jeno’s head. But you deserve better than this, better than being some secret he feels like he has to hide.”

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, yet they only amplified the ache in your heart. You wished it didn’t hurt so much, wished you could just move on like Jeno seemed to. But the truth was, that night had meant something to you. Even if you shouldn’t have felt that way, even if you tried to convince yourself otherwise, it did.

It wasn’t just the gossip or the whispers that hurt; it was the entire situation. The reality that you had gotten swept up in something so fleeting, yet so consuming. You felt like you were living on a stage, where every move was scrutinised, turned into something larger than life. Belle, Jeno, his friends; they were all part of that act, and now, so were you. You thought back to the party, to the fragile intimacy you had shared with Jeno, the way you had intertwined your lives for a moment. But the harsh reality was that it hadn’t been real. Not for him.

When you got home, you collapsed onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling, its familiar texture suddenly feeling foreign and oppressive. The quiet of your room suffocated you, amplifying the echoes of whispers and judgment that had followed you all day. It should have been a relief to escape the chaos, but instead, it was a stark reminder of how alone you felt. Gone were the masks and the laughter; all that remained was the haunting silence, thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

Your phone buzzed, and for a fleeting moment, hope flickered inside you. Maybe it was Jeno, maybe he finally had something to say, something that could bridge the chasm that had formed between you two. But as you glanced down, the screen illuminated a message from Mark instead.

Mark: How you holding up?

You stared at the words, the glow of the screen casting a pale light over your uncertainty. Mark had always been the one to see beyond your carefully constructed façade, the only person who didn’t press for answers you weren’t ready to give. His concern was palpable even through the digital barrier, but the weight of your own feelings made it hard to respond.

You: I don’t know.

The reply felt painfully inadequate, a thin veil over the storm churning inside you. You tossed your phone aside, pulling your knees up to your chest, as if trying to protect your heart from the world outside. What did you even want at this point? Jeno wasn’t coming back to fix things, and Belle was probably rehearsing her next round of accusations. You felt caught in a strange, uncomfortable limbo, yearning to forget while being unable to erase the vivid memories of that night.

In the days that followed, you had tried to convince yourself the night with Jeno was nothing more than a fleeting mistake, a moment spurred by alcohol and the warmth of the moment. But now, as the realization washed over you, it became painfully clear: you had wanted it to mean something more. You craved the way he looked at you that night—not with the haze of drunken affection, but with something deeper, something that could fill the void you felt inside.

But he didn’t. He never would.

You remained motionless on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, feeling the silence stretch around you like a shroud. Your phone buzzed again, probably Mark checking in, but you couldn’t muster the energy to respond. The weight of your decisions pressed heavily on your chest, reminding you of the loss that had settled in your heart.

You had lost your best friend, sacrificed your bond with Belle for something ephemeral, and now, you were left to pick up the pieces alone. And maybe that was what hurt the most. The realization that in the end, none of it had felt real. Not the intimate moments shared with Jeno, not the friendship you had thought you could count on with Belle. Everything felt built on a shaky foundation, fragile and destined to crumble.

As you lay there, you reached for your phone, hoping to drown out the noise in your head with music. You scrolled through your playlist, searching for anything that could take you away from this moment. And then it started, the familiar notes of Crush Culture by Conan Gray filled the room, wrapping around you like a bittersweet embrace.

With each lyric, you felt a rush of recognition that hit you like a truck. Crush culture makes me wanna spill my guts out. The words resonated deeply, echoing the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. It was as if Conan had taken the scattered pieces of your heart and crafted them into a song, pulling at the very strings of your soul.

The lines about fleeting moments, unreciprocated feelings, and the pain of wanting something that was never truly yours surged through you. You closed your eyes, allowing the music to wash over you, each note igniting memories of that night with Jeno. The way he held you, the laughter you shared, the promises whispered in the dark. But with each line, the weight of reality crashed down harder, reminding you of the distance that had grown between you since then.

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, the catharsis almost overwhelming as the song played on. You could feel every word burrowing into your heart, every melody capturing the longing you tried to hide. This wasn’t just about Jeno; it was about everything you had lost, everything you had poured into moments that turned out to be nothing but illusions.

And in that moment, you felt a fragile clarity. You might be lost now, but you wouldn’t stay that way forever. The lyrics continued to echo around you, each syllable a promise that you would find a way through the pain, that you could reclaim your voice, your heart, and maybe, just maybe, discover what it meant to feel whole again.

As the song faded into silence, you lay back against your pillows, allowing the tears to flow freely. It was time to face the truth, to embrace the chaos of your emotions, and to start piecing together a new beginning. And with that thought, you closed your eyes, a flicker of hope igniting within you. A hope that lingered long after the last notes faded away.

[urhoneycombwitch]

breathe in the air

eddie x reader x steve. part i

foreword: this is part one/set up for a fic I’ve been chewin’ on. cw is for both parts and will get updated- no actual smut in this first one but please heed the tags anyway. +18 mdni as always. (@somnambulic-thing you inspired me to write from Eddie’s pov! 💖)

cw: smoking (weed and nicotine), R’s hair is mentioned but unspecified texture/length, also wears Eddie’s shirt, R has breasts + V,  Eddie and Reader are both varying degrees of stoned while performing sex acts (please be safe IRL and don’t read if that makes you uncomfy!!), pt. ii will have: voyeurism (Eddie and R fool around and Steve watches), blow jobs, masturbation, both the boys being Down Bad™️

wc: 2.5k (part i)

_____

The sun has sunk low over Forest Hills, Eddie’s room cast in deep blue where the golden path of his bedside lamp doesn’t touch.

He’s lighting up a post-sex cigarette, one of the best things this shitty world has to offer, in his opinion- second only to feeling your warm body against his; writhing and wriggling with pleasure, neck craned to let him lick the sloping sweat from your skin- or times like now, when you’re calm and satiated, nude under the comfort of sheets and the weight of your head on his chest.

Casting a hand out to shuffle blindly through the bedside table, Eddie wraps his other arm around the sleepy length of you, pulling you tighter to himself; your response a wordless, happy little noise. His hand deep in the drawer catches on a stray cigarette, then around the hard plastic of a spare lighter. With a sigh of contentment, he kisses the top of your head before bringing the filter to his lips.

Sparks catch under his thumb, cherry of the cig burning red- like some sort of sleeper agent responding to the click, you sit up with a jolt, stealing the mess of sheets upwards, exposing Eddie’s lower half to the cool air.

Eddie swears, startled- thinking you were almost asleep, he’d been nearly careless with the open flame- tossing the lighter aside, he reaches towards your back that now faces him. “Jesus, babe. Give a guy some warning before you snap to attention like a damn general.”

Thumb pressed to the notches of your spine, palm wide around your lower back, Eddie can feel the quiet giggle that shakes through your ribs.

 “Sorry,” you whisper once you’re finished, still staring at the far wall like you're trying not to break a spell. Your arms are crossed, sheets bunching around your chest- “Had a thought.”

“Must’ve been a good one,” Eddie muses, thumb following the line of your spine down, like he’s petting an oversized cat.

In true feline fashion your back arches into his touch, encouraging his palm to sweep up again, to your shoulder blade this time as you murmur, “I wanna go swimming.”

“Okay.” Eddie’s immediately agreeable, taking a long drag from the cig, letting smoke fill out the hollows around his lungs. “We’ll go to Lover’s Lake tomorrow. Heard it’s gonna be a hot one.”

Hawkins is having a record heat wave for the second summer in a row- as if all the damn underground monster shit and horrific earthquakes of last year weren’t enough already: global warming to top it all off. The sun has been merciless these last few weeks, peaking midday, nothing for it but to lie in a heated daze on the kitchen tiles of whoever’s house is the least amount of bitch to get to.

Not that Eddie’s complaining about you being half-naked most of the time. He thinks this is the year you might actually kill him, now that he can touch you, call you his- every curve of upper calf in those short shorts, every soft slip of stomach peeking out from cropped tops- he’s got enough spank bank material to last until his deathbed. (Which he’s decidedly allowed to joke about, since, ya know, the whole almost-dying thing last spring.)

Eddie moves on haptic memory to set aside his cigarette, searching pinky-out for the lip of the ashtray (ceramic, with a poorly-drawn Snoopy, the ears far too big- you’d laughed until you cried over it at the thrift store; he was fifty cents poorer that day but rich and dizzy off your glee). 

“No, not the lake. And I wanna go swimming now.” There’s a hint of petulance in your voice, walking the thin line of childish whine that only appears these days after you’ve smoked, tongue and desires loosened and lax with the help of the finest hash stash in Hawkins. 

There’s a smile threatening to split Eddie’s face in two. He’s been working at that hard-won wall of your solitude for ages now, showing rather than telling you it’s okay to ask for things, that you’re safe to make requests and hell, even demands, from him. Eddie’s not sure what he wouldn’t do for you, at this point- hasn’t found that line yet. Probably doesn’t exist.

A monster of my own design, he thinks, fondly, sweeping the hair from your neck so he can see the outline of cheek and jawbone, reflective with lamplit glow. “Baby, there’s nowhere to swim right now- it’s dark and that’s not real safe. Tomorrow I’ll make us some sandwiches- we can drive out to the lake, you can get stoned and I’ll play lifeguard.”

It’s probably too much to hope you’ve swallowed this bitter pill of compromise in silence, but based on the lack of response, it’s certainly possible. Eddie presses his thumb into the muscle where your neck meets shoulder, massage a silent apology for saying no when you’d been so good to ask. 

Crickets chirp in chorus outside, sound dampened by the glass window- he needs to open it soon, get the hot air out and night breeze flowing (though he is loath to replace the heady smell of sex wrapped like a cozy blanket around his room).

He feels you shuffle under his hand, eyes popping open to watch- you’ve tucked your chin over the dip in your shoulder, looking down the slope of your own nose at him, an expression on your face that makes Eddie’s stomach flip (with nerves, fear, excitement, hard to pinpoint exactly).

Your voice is quiet but steady when you speak, Eddie’s massaging fingers freezing to a halt when you say, “I know a place, open right now, with a lit-up pool. And a lifeguard.”

A thin tendril of smoke from the ashtray floats into Eddie’s vision as he stares blankly at the ceiling for a moment. Then he sits up, crushing the cherry into Snoopy’s wavered outline (sorry, pal) before brushing arms with you, patient and stern with a headshake to match- “No way, sweetheart.”

“Why-y?” That petulance is back, Eddie’s heart kicking up in response; it’s your turn to give the physical affection, winding your arms in a closed loop around his neck, forehead bumping against his jaw as he works it back and forth. 

His stitched-tight resolve quickly unspools as the wet plush of your lips track a path across his throat; he clears it before squeezing at your side again, one last argument to try and stick like cooked spaghetti to a wall. “You’re high.”

You snort, puff of breath sending goosebumps across his skin, rapidly cooling from lack of your affection- “Yeah, and you’re not. So you can drive us there, and then smoke again with me before we go in, and Stevie boy will keep us safe in that nice, heated, well-lit pool of his.”

Even as you speak, Eddie’s shaking his head, but it’s more in disbelief of his own weakness (namely: you). He slips a hand to your cheek, pulling back to take you in- mischief shimmering like twin stars in your eyes as you lock onto his gaze, lips parting pliant when his thumb swipes at your bottom lip. 

“You gonna behave yourself?”

It’s less of a question and more of a check-in, the meaning behind the words an undulating variable, a riddle with a thousand different answers.

The one you do give is complimented by a wicked grin, punctuated with a quick kiss (awfully chaste, considering your bare front pressed against his), your mirthful delight at having won both unsettling and tantalizing.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.”

With a sudden push to his chest, Eddie goes down easy for you, hair spreading riotous across the pillow as you move with shocking fluidity to throw a leg over his hip. Your hands meet in the middle of his chest, just under the rippling ink of a crow in flight, settling your weight comfortably on his stomach. 

Eddie’s sure you can feel his pulse, jack-rabbit fast, as you dip to kiss beneath his jaw. His hands automatically settle on your hips, grip tightening with each loving kiss you scatter over his collarbones, his sternum.

He’s half-hard under the sheets by the time your lips find the hitch of his ribs, stuttering and expanding to meet your mouth- can’t be faulted, really, not when your bare chest gleams in the low light, the top of your head imploring for the warmth of his wide palm to rest. 

Just when Eddie thinks he’s in the clear, that the call of your needs (evident in the slickness pooling just under his navel where your naked cunt rests) will drive the call of your wants to distraction, you sit up again, using your planted hands as leverage to swing completely off and away.

The coldness of your absence is cruel and unusual punishment. Eddie groans, scrubbing a hand down his face, deciding right then that he won’t be above begging tonight- when you suddenly reappear with a clean beach towel in either arm, pulled from the bowels of his closet.

There’s youthful, honest enthusiasm to your movements- something that’s catching, apparently, ‘cuz Eddie’s tipping himself out of bed with a resigned sigh, pulling boxers over his flagging dick and answering your spree of questions about these new evening plans.

“Sure, bring a water bottle. No, babe, we don’t need sunscreen- it’s night. Yeah, I’ll bring more weed. How ‘bout you bring me that old shoulder bag and we can bring some stuff with us.”

As you work on digging through the mess of a combined closet to find something suitable for swimming, Eddie folds the two towels that you’d found along with a baggie of joints into the bag. You’re humming under your breath while getting dressed, and Eddie’s staring at all the leftover space- what does one pack for a nighttime high swim with one’s girlfriend and the guy you’ve both sort-of mentioned threesoming with?

He tosses in a well-loved edition of your favorite book of poems, figuring the Harrington abode will have plenty of snacks. Food for the mind, he thinks, then snorts at his own joke. 

“C’mon, snorty.” You beckon from the doorway, an old t-shirt of his just swishing past the dark strip of your bikini bottoms, van keys held aloft. 

At the front door, there’s a brief argument about coats (you think you’ll be fine without, Eddie disagrees vehemently) which Eddie wins, wrangling your arms into the sleeves of his oil-stained work jacket before locking the front door behind you both.

Eddie smiles, a secret, pure thrill watching you tiptoe gingerly across the gravel on bare feet (too stubborn to actually wear the sandals that hang from either hand). His coat is bunched up around your ears while your legs poke out like some sort of winterized bird with bare legs. 

There’s a bright pang of love that suddenly hits hits sideways, a dizzying urge to sink on denim knees to the ground, sharp rocks be damned, just to kiss the tender spot behind your knees, to feel the hill of your calf under his tongue…

Your giggle breaks his reverie, impatient and pointed jiggling of the locked passenger handle clunking out into the quiet park. “Quit staring, weirdo. You coming?”

Hope so, Eddie thinks, spinning the key ring in looping arcs around his pointer finger. He bypasses the porch steps completely, boots hitting the gravel with a satisfying crunch. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Your cheery mood is sustained during the short car ride as you chatter animatedly about some coworker drama that you forgot to catch him up on, Eddie’s hand drawn like a magnet to your upper thigh while he drives. 

But by the time he’s pulling the van next to Harrington’s beemer, your eagerness has waned, speech drifting off into silence once he’s parked. 

“Hey.” His voice draws you back to him, a bit, your eyes too wide and roving for his liking, coat sleeves clenched around opposing fists as you hang onto his words. “Sweetheart. We don’t have to go inside. Can go anywhere- diner for some food, back home, the damn trash heap for all I care. Just want you to feel safe.”

“I do,” you counter, earnest but chest still punching a fast rhythm. “I feel safe. I just… you think he’s even awake?”

There’s a yellow glow coming from one of the second-floor windows. Your fingers twist harshly around fabric in the dark, breath loud. 

Eddie nods, then kills the engine and grabs behind his seat for the Ziploc of pre-rolls, an offering held to you between two ringed fingers. “Want a bit of Green Courage before going in?”

The van windows are soon fuzzily obscured with a haze of smoke, sprinklers for the pristine lawn nearby hissing to an automated start at the turn of 11 PM. The weed coaxes your earlier state of relax to the forefront, this time with an added layer of giggles, which Eddie finds desperately cute. 

He’s sure he’s high now, too, ‘cuz he’s unintentionally focusing really hard on your lips as you speak, and you’re letting him, corner of your mouth quirking when you ask, “Gonna take me inside, Munson?”

“Uh huh.” An automatic response, just so he can keep staring- when you pop the handle of your door open Eddie reaches, faltering before landing on your face, cupping the tilt of your cheek- “Meant it. Earlier. Just say the word. Take you anywhere.”

Weed fragments his speech but you melt with understanding, leaning into his hand, your lashes sweeping sweetly at the bridge of his thumb as you whisper, “Okay.”

You’re out the door and he’s left scrambling in the wake, hauling the strap of the packed bag over one shoulder and snapping up your forgotten shoes from the footwell. He locks the doors (nevermind that this is a nice neighborhood, can’t trust rich people farther than he can throw ‘em and Eddie has always been better at running over shotput on field days) and hikes it across the grass to where you stand, a beacon of beauty under the porch light.

“Ready?” he asks.

Your bare foot- flecked with wet grass- trails up the back of your opposing leg, veins at the whites of your eyes spidering pink with anticipation (and the fresh joint) as you turn to smile at him. “Yeah. Bring it on.”

“Your wish, my command,” Eddie says, winking, knuckles pulled into a fist to rap at the front door of one Steve Harrington. 

___

[END: PART ONE]

[ophelia-writes-fics]

i like when you get mad (i guess i'm pretty glad that you're alone) [kilgrave x reader - 18+]

You're a dancer at a club, and your shift just took a weird turn.

Tags (please read!): fem!reader, degradation, some mild praise, spanking, oral sex, face-fucking, cum swallowing, penetration, choking, erotic asphyxiation, unsafe/unprotected sex, face slapping, clit slapping, masochism (reader), sadism (kilgrave), humiliation, biting, scratching, bruising, some minor blood, threats, condescension, painplay, pain kink, minor bondage, edging, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, mind control, mention of voyeurism/exhibitionism, slight dacryphilia, overstimulation, hair pulling, posessiveness

Word count: ~7.7k

CWs/TWs:

super dubious consent (reader likes him and consents to everything/is into the things they're doing without being compelled to, but some orders are given that can't be resisted and it's not pre-negotiated, so proceed with caution)

un-negotiated kink and unsafe choking/breathplay (i know you guys know but please don't choke anyone like this and please ask for consent in general but especially with kinks)

it's kilgrave. he's a walking red flag.

i'm not condoning anything irl, but this is fiction and i'm a kinky bitch, so i'm sexualizing this absolute maniac and i am having a lot of fun doing it lmao

You were leaning against the bar, scanning the crowd as you took your first shot of the shift. It was Friday night, with most of the crowd being well-dressed men who looked like they’d just finished with a long day of work, which meant you’d be going home with enough tips to pay your rent early. 

The most eager members of the crowd were seated near the stage, where your friend had them utterly captivated with an elaborate pole routine, so you began to search the back of the house for customers who might want something more private. A group of college girls already drunk off Red Bull and vodka, cheering and shouting compliments at the dancers with the kind of unbridled joy and solidarity that only drunk girls can summon…a man who’d clearly been dragged there by his friends, his eyes glued to his phone, his blush visible even in the dimly lit club…a bouncer pulling a particularly belligerent customer towards the door…

There. On the other side of the room was a tall, sharp-featured man in a dark purple suit, sitting alone, looking thoroughly bored with the performance onstage, glancing over at you every now and again with what appeared to be a look of interest. Perfect. 

You quickly ran a hand through your hair, took a deep breath, and plastered on your most winningly seductive smile before strolling towards him with as much ease as you could muster in six-inch stilettos. 

“Hello there, love,” you purred, leaning forward against the table he was seated at. “Is there anything I can do for you tonight?” 

You thought you’d gotten every possible response to that question before. You’d seen everything from polite rejection to aggressive groping to desperate requests for friendship or conversation, but what you’d never experienced and certainly weren’t expecting was a glance up and down your body followed by a discontented sigh and a slight frown, then a “Fine. You’ll do.” 

You opened your mouth to tell the stranger off, but before you could, he held up a finger to silence you, then leaned in closer. 

“Take me to your most secluded room. Don’t ask any questions, don’t stop to talk to anyone. Go.” 

Your head immediately began to spin. Your brain felt cloudy, as if someone had swept every thought from your mind and replaced them with a thick, impenetrable fog. Before you could try to shake the feeling away, your body was already moving, walking briskly towards the back of the club, seemingly completely independently of your own will. Get to a private room echoed over and over, clouding all the other thoughts that you were desperately trying to muster. You felt wrong, like a puppet with your limbs being jerked around by some unseen controller, no free will of your own to be found. No, not a puppet, your mind vaguely registered. A doll. 

You heard one of your friends calling you, asking something or maybe just saying hello, but when you tried to turn your head to respond, don’t stop to talk to anyone pierced your skull like a shard of ice, ringing in your ears like an intrusive thought. You didn’t stop walking even for a second. You didn’t even look at your friend. Something was very, very wrong. 

Your stomach was in knots by the time you got to an empty room, your heart racing against your ribcage like a trapped bird against a windowpane. You leaned against the wall, trying desperately to steady yourself as the strange man followed you inside. 

“Lock the door,” he ordered with a dismissive wave of his hand. The door was closed and bolted shut before you even realized you’d moved. 

You tried to say, or even think What did you do to me? But the same cold, cloudy pain overtook your head. Don’t ask questions. You shut your eyes tightly and clenched your fist as your body swayed, shaken by the unfamiliar sensation, feeling your breath grow shallow with panic. When your vision refocused, you stared at the stranger, who was tossing his suit jacket aside, reclined lazily on the couch like he hadn’t a care in the world. He fixed you with an annoyed look. 

“God, don’t grimace like that. The least you could do is give me a smile.”

Your face rearranged itself into the same winning, seductively charming smile you’d had on earlier, but you could tell that your eyes weren’t engaged. He didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he didn’t seem to have noticed your fear at all, grinning back at you like the devil himself. 

“That’s more like it. Now, kneel for me. Arms by your sides, hands in your lap, chin up. There you are.” His smile widened as he watched your body automatically follow his orders. 

He stood up and began to pace in a slow circle around you. You felt his dark eyes piercing you, evaluating you, examining your body for any minor flaw or imperfection, even though your vision remained fixed straight ahead and your smile remained in place. The carpet dug into your knees, your stiletto heels stabbing the backs of your thighs. But still, you knelt, unmoving and obedient as he stroked your hair like you were a well-behaved pet. 

It felt good, you thought, feeling a knot in your stomach form at the realization. He was incredibly handsome, with fingers as long and slender as the rest of him. You might have invited him back here on your own even if he hadn’t performed what you were growing more and more sure of was mind control. The thought made your blood run cold, but at the same time, you could still feel how red your face was under his gaze. 

Your pulse quickened as he moved back around to face you, still with that same analytical stare. His eyes lingered on your chest as he bent down slightly, moving his hand to caress the side of your face. His thumb brushed your lower lip, still frozen in place from where he had ordered you to smile. 

“Open your mouth,” he said, and you obeyed, with another rush of arousal immediately followed by shame. He pressed his finger against your tongue, eyebrows raising as you moaned at the touch. 

He pressed harder, still keeping his hand firmly on your jaw. “You like this, don’t you? Tell me the truth, don’t hold back.” His voice was low, his tone vaguely threatening in a way you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded, mouth still agape. Your face flushed at the eagerness of your response, the embarrassment at finding pleasure in being controlled so thoroughly sinking deeper and deeper into you. You’d never felt anything like it, and the adrenaline from the initial terror of being manipulated was quickly turning into an aphrodisiac when combined with your attraction to him. 

He scoffed - a short, mocking laugh. “My god,” he grinned, straightening up. “Then you can consider yourself a very, very lucky girl.” The swell of pride in your chest wasn’t at all hindered by the way his tone darkened; you couldn’t even tell if you were genuinely delighted at having impressed him or if you were just following his orders and “considering yourself lucky.” From the way your brain clouded over and the way your cunt tightened onto nothing, it might have been both. You groaned slightly at the feeling, then quickly bit down on your lip to try and suppress the sound. 

If he noticed, he gave no outward expression. Instead, he reclined back onto the couch, his legs falling open slightly, and he beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand. 

“Come here. You can kneel at my feet where you belong.” The way he said it was so light, so casual that you could tell he wasn’t trying to be dominant or turn you on. He just genuinely believed it. God, the ego on him. Still, you started to climb to your feet to walk over. 

However, before you could even stand all the way up, he raised a hand to stop you. “Ah-ah-ah. No, none of that. You can crawl. You look ridiculous walking around in those shoes anyway.” 

You collapsed back to your knees, cringing slightly at the bruises you knew you would have tomorrow as you crawled towards him. 

“Good girl, so you do know your place,” he said, his tone taking on a thick layer of condescension as he patted your head. “Tell me, how often do you sleep with your clients here?” He barely even looked at you as he asked, staring off into the distance as if you were boring him. 

“Never,” you replied immediately. 

“Never?” He raised his eyebrows, sparing you a quick, scrutinizing glance. “Then what exactly do you do in little rooms like these?” 

“Private stripteases. Lap dances. I let some touch me if they pay me enough,” you answered truthfully, realizing only after you’d spoken that he hadn’t ordered you to do so. You prayed silently that your answer was good enough. A voice in the back of your head questioned why you were so desperate for his approval, but it was quickly overcome by another wave of lust. 

Despite the work you did, it had been far, far too long since you’d been fucked, especially by a man as pretty as the one seated in front of you. And as much as you hated to admit it even to yourself, whatever power he had was one that you desperately wanted him to use on you. You’d never been so scared or so turned on in your life, and your deep masochistic streak was begging for more. 

The man snapped his thin fingers an inch away from your face, snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked hard, realizing you hadn’t heard a single thing he said since you answered his last question. 

“Hey,” he reprimanded sharply, punctuated with a hard slap to the side of your face. “Snap out of it. God, what’s the point of sitting around here with you if you’re not even going to listen?” 

“No, wait, I’m sorry, I just—“ 

He cut you off with a disgusted roll of his eyes. “Don’t grovel. If you’re sorry, find a way to make it up to me.” 

You swallowed hard, nodding your head, mind racing. Your eyes flicked down to his lap, then back up to his face. 

“May I…well…I mean, would you like me to…” you stammered, mentally kicking yourself for how timid you sounded. 

“What? Spit it out,” he snapped. 

“Can I please suck your dick, please?” The request was out of your mouth before you even had time to process it. 

He laughed again, the same sharp mocking laugh he’d given you earlier, fixing you with a self-satisfied smile. “Oh, you really are desperate, aren’t you? Fine. Hurry up and start. Make it good.” 

Of course, you followed his orders. The ice-cold feeling that came with trying to resist felt entirely foreign to you now, and the brain fog that set over you whenever he gave a command barely had time to take hold before you obeyed. 

You started slowly, gently licking the tip of his dick before gradually working your way down, letting your mouth adjust to the length, pressing your tongue against him as you gently bobbed your head. 

While you were still struggling to take even half of his dick in your mouth, he roughly grabbed your hair, and without warning, shoved your head down to the base of his cock. 

You choked hard, tears immediately streaming down your face, but you couldn’t get even a second of relief with the way he held you firmly in place. You took a deep breath in through your nose, but the air was immediately knocked from your lungs as he pulled your head back, then shoved you back down, thrusting forcefully into the back of your throat. You gave a stifled cry and frantically grasped at his leg, trying to get leverage to break away, but you felt him slap your hand away before pinning it against the couch cushion. 

“You can take it. You want to impress me, don’t you? Stop struggling and let me fuck your throat.”

Your body went limp, all reflexes to break away and gasp for air vanishing in an instant. You could feel yourself choking, your face dripping with spit and tears, but you didn’t care. Both his hands were twisted in your hair, pulling hard, shoving your mouth onto his cock over and over again like you were a toy. You moaned desperately, half from pain and half from delirious pleasure. After what felt like ages, he ripped you away, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.

“Put some fucking effort into it,” he hissed, releasing your hair from his wrenching grasp. “Show me why I shouldn’t get rid of you right now.” 

You immediately set to work, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and stroking what you couldn’t take with your right hand. You didn’t know what “getting rid of you” would entail. You didn’t doubt for a second that he could kill you. You felt briefly concerned that this didn’t turn you off in the slightest before your thoughts were pulled back to the task at hand. 

You sucked hard, running your tongue against the most sensitive places you knew of, gently teasing him, just enough to hopefully make him feel as desperate as you did. Your efforts were immediately rewarded with a low moan that became an almost feral growl, feeling him thrust upward involuntarily. You doubled down, relishing in every sound you could draw from him. 

He exhaled sharply when you pulled back, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock and flicking your tongue, tasting the pre-cum that dripped from him. He reached out, hand tangling in your hair again, but not quite as hard as before. 

“Right there,” he sighed, holding your head in place, eyes shut tightly. “Fuck, there you go, right there, just like that, harder…oh, god, what a good fucking girl you are…” As you felt him get closer and closer, listening to the way he moaned for you, you felt yourself grow hot all over, more and more desperate to feel him let go, to cum down your throat.

 You whined sharply, pushing even further, your body aching all over with unfulfilled desire. You took every single inch of him, swallowing hard around his cock, pressing your nose to his stomach, ignoring the way your throat tightened and instead focusing on how badly you wanted him, how terribly you wanted to impress him…

Your efforts paid off immediately when he forcibly pinned you where you were, grabbing your hair as he came with a rough, broken shout, his cum hitting the back of your throat. 

After what felt like ages, you felt him collapse backward against the couch cushions. You pulled away, quickly swallowing the mouthful you’d accumulated, then opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue to show him how well you’d taken it. 

He softly laughed, peering at you with a slightly unfocused look before closing his eyes again, still on cloud nine, chest rising and falling quickly as the overwhelming pleasure slowly subsided. 

You leaned your head against his inner thigh, gazing up at him with a lovestruck stare. He looked so vulnerable like this, open and overwhelmed with all the sensations flooding him, a slight smile on his lips.

 A man with all the power in the world, everything he could ever want only a few words away, everyone wrapped around his little finger, and yet here he was, your head between his legs, absolutely radiant in the afterglow of his orgasm. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. 

He really is cute, you thought, even if he is terrifying. You examined his face carefully, taking in every detail — his sharp cheekbones, his thin nose, his dark eyelashes, the soft pink of his lips, the curve of his jawline and neck. There was something almost delicate about him, hidden by how deeply intimidating he was, and you hadn’t noticed it until now. He was just…well, he was just so pretty. There was just no other word for it, even now (or maybe especially now) that his sophisticated appearance was ruffled. His hair, once perfectly combed, was messy, a few dark strands falling into his eyes. His pristine suit was wrinkled, jacket long discarded, his tie partially undone, his shirtsleeves hastily rolled up, his belt and pants unfastened, and to top it all off, his gorgeous cock resting against his stomach, still half-hard. He was a fucking vision. You could have stared at him for ages. 

You gently tapped his leg to get his attention. “You know, I don’t actually think I caught your name,” you said, batting your eyelashes a bit. Your smile faded when you were met with a cold silence. He shook his head, straightening up and brushing his hair back into place. 

“You don’t need to know my name,” he snapped, all the bliss from a moment ago having vanished as he pushed you aside, readjusting his clothes. 

You sat back, thoroughly dejected. You had thought you’d done well. You wanted to make him feel good, and you had, but it wasn’t enough. You shouldn’t have felt like this about one of your clients, but you’d never met anyone else like him, and you wanted more. 

Your heart sped up as he reached for his jacket. Gathering his things meant he would leave, and an impulse deep inside you was yelling at you to do something. This wasn’t a job anymore, you needed him. He’d gotten you in the palm of his hand, desperate and wanting, and now that you had done what he wanted, he was acting like you were invisible. You weren’t going to let things go that easily. 

You pulled yourself up onto the couch, ignoring the ache in your knees and the pain on the backs of your thighs where your high heels had dug into your skin. Before he could react, you climbed onto his lap, facing him, arms around his shoulders. You’d never broken your “no kissing clients” rule, but that rule was the furthest thing from your mind as you leaned in for a kiss, pressing your lips firmly against his. 

With your eyes closed tightly, you barely even realized he had shoved you away until you landed on your back against the leather of the couch. Your eyes snapped open, finding the man standing before you, with a look on his face that was a mix of anger and bewilderment and something else you couldn’t quite place. He opened his mouth as if preparing to ask you something, but he closed it again, turning away from you. You bit your lip as he paced slowly, his hand over his eyes. Had you read the situation wrong? Was he ashamed that he’d come back here with you? Did he not like being kissed? Had you come on too strong? Was it over the line? 

Your heart skipped a beat as he stopped, focusing fully on you. You felt cornered, like a prey animal about to be devoured. He looked angry, vengeful, his already dark eyes completely devoid of light as he approached you. 

“Strip, then bend over the couch, facing the wall. Now.” 

Chills ran down your spine as you quickly undressed. You hadn’t been wearing much before, but naked, you felt completely exposed under his cold glare. You reluctantly turned away, the brain fog coming back like a tidal wave in response to your slight resistance, and you bent over, just like he’d told you to do. You could feel yourself shaking, terrified at the idea of what he would do to you, but with a hint of anticipation that kept you from falling off the edge into panic. 

You closed your eyes tightly and tried to ground yourself in the brief moments of silence, waiting for whatever would come next, but they shot open as soon as you felt the sharp, unmistakable shock of his belt whipping you across the backs of your thighs at full force. 

You cried out involuntarily, from shock and from the stinging, nearly unbearable pain. You hadn’t even had time to compose yourself when the second hit came, the pain intensifying as he struck the same place even harder. Your skin burned and you felt your eyes well up with tears, but you could feel the heat of arousal inside you growing, your masochistic side alight with pleasure. You wanted more. 

“Fuck!” you gasped as he landed a series of quick, searing lashes across your thighs and ass. Your nails dug into the couch as you bit your lip, trying to stifle a scream as the metal buckle whipped into your skin. Your head spun. It stung, so badly you could barely take it, but it felt fucking incredible, endorphins and adrenaline coursing through your body, making every sensation electric as he kept going, relentlessly striking you over and over again. 

You were granted a temporary reprieve when he leaned in close to your ear, running his fingernails down your back, hard enough that you knew there would be marks tomorrow. 

“Don’t even think about holding back,” he hissed, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “I want everyone outside this room to hear you scream for mercy, and I want everyone to know you’re not going to get it.” 

Immediately he resumed his punishment, the sound of the belt hitting you again and again echoing off the walls. Your body instinctively followed his orders and you felt yourself cry out involuntarily, a broken sound halfway between a gasp and a yell. You barely even registered it as your own voice. 

Thwack. 

A particularly brutal hit made you cry out, arching your back in a desperate attempt to ease the pain. 

“Fuck, please…” you begged, feeling like you were on the verge of fainting. 

“‘Please’ what?”

Thwack. 

Thwack. 

The ice cold feeling shot through your brain like a lightning strike. Beg for mercy. Scream for it. You desperately wanted to, but at the same time…

“Harder, fuck, please, harder!” 

The words were out of your mouth before you even realized you’d spoken them. Immediately, the room fell silent. You gasped for air, still reeling from the searing pain and the frigid ache of trying to resist him. 

He took hold of your hair without warning, yanking your head around to look at him. 

“Repeat that,” he snapped. 

“I— I want it harder,” you panted, trying to force your blurred vision to focus. 

A long, tense pause. 

“You like this.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Yes, god, yes.” 

“Of fucking course you do.” 

He grabbed you, turning you around forcefully so that you were facing him, then without warning, his hands were wrapped around your neck, so tightly that you couldn’t even take a moment to breathe in, your windpipe fully constricted.  

“I bet you like this too, don’t you?” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

You nodded desperately, as best you could with your neck being held firmly in place. 

“Listen to me,” he growled. “You live and die by my orders. You have no other purpose but to please me, do you understand? Just look at you. I could do anything to you and you would love it. You get off on being whipped, you get off on being choked half to death…I could beat you senseless and you would cum from it.” 

You moaned in ecstasy, but it came out as barely a whimper. You could feel your heartbeat in your temples, your vision going dark around the edges as his fingers dug into your neck. 

“I’m going to do whatever I want to you. That’s all you’re good for. Do you understand?”

You tried to answer, but you couldn’t move. Your head was pounding, your throat feeling like it was about to be crushed. You saw stars, multicolored lights popping in and out of your vision. The darkness around the edges was rapidly expanding, bleeding further and further into your line of sight until you couldn’t see at all. 

At the last possible moment, before you could feel yourself slip over the edge into unconsciousness, he let go, dropping your limp body and watching you gasp for air, coughing and retching as you struggled to breathe in after being deprived of oxygen for so long. 

“Pathetic,” he scoffed, glaring down at you like you were nothing more than dust. 

You lowered your head, thoroughly humiliated, pressing your forehead against your knees as you gulped in mouthful after mouthful of oxygen, mind racing. He could have killed you. He could have choked you to death without a second thought and you wouldn’t have been able to stop him, you told yourself, but still, in the deepest parts of your mind, the danger thrilled you. 

You needed him to touch you, to hurt you, to ruin you. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted to you, and the thought made your stomach ache with terror as much as it turned you on. 

He caressed your hair in a way that would have almost seemed tender if he hadn’t just strangled you half to death. You looked up slightly, and he tilted your chin up so you were face to face. He moved your head slightly to one side, then the other, examining you carefully, and smiled with a sick satisfaction. 

“You’ll have bruises on your neck for a week,” he praised with a slap to your cheek. You moaned softly at the impact, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling. 

He bent down, picking you up ever so slightly to rearrange your body in the position he wanted, laying you down and spreading your legs. You could see from your position how hard he was. Your pain had turned him on as much as it had done to you. 

You stared up at him as he admired his work, stroking his cock as he gazed at the bruises and welts and scratches he’d left on your skin.  

“Come here,” you pleaded, your voice still raw and hoarse from being choked, spreading your legs further. 

He was immediately on top of you, his thin hips pressed against yours, hands wrapped tightly around your wrists. “Don’t you dare give me orders,” he spat, but despite the venom behind it, you could tell from the way his hips rubbed against you that he was as desperate as you were. You felt his cock brush against your clit as he bit down hard on your neck, surely adding yet another bruise to the collection you’d accumulated. 

You bit your lip, wanting him to just stop teasing, to hurry up and fuck your brains out, but as you were considering whether or not to try and resist his don’t give orders command, you felt the tip of his dick press against your entrance. You’d known it was big, your aching throat was doing an excellent job at reminding you of that, but you still couldn’t stifle a gasp at the feeling. It was just a whole different experience like this. 

The beautiful man above you gave you a look that sent chills down your spine. 

“You want it,” he whispered, leaning in so close he could have kissed you. 

You nodded eagerly, fixing him with a pleading gaze. You hadn’t needed the command in the slightest. 

“Beg.” 

“Please…” you whined, your nails digging into your palms as you clenched your hands into fists, struggling to keep still. “Please, please…”

“Not good enough. Beg harder.” You had no idea how he managed to sound thoroughly indifferent, even while he was this hard.

Your already racing heartbeat quickened. “Please, I’m begging you, fuck me, take me, ruin me, do anything you want to me, I —fuck— I need it, I need it so badly, please, I’ll do anything…”

That same sadistic, terrifying little smile crept across his face. “Anything?” 

“Yes, anything, just please, god, fuck me!” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” he murmured, before roughly thrusting into you, as deep as he could possibly get, without giving you so much as a second to adjust. 

You couldn’t even try to hold back a scream, and he had the nerve to laugh in your face as he slapped his hand over your mouth. 

“Oh, careful, don’t shout like that! They’ll think I’m doing something horrible to you in here,” he grinned, punctuating his words with hard, deep strokes that hit every sensitive spot inside you. “It sounds like you’re in absolute agony. But we both know better than that, don’t we?”

He picked up the pace, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder to fuck you deeper than you’d thought possible. 

“You know, I really thought that you’d put up a little more of a fight,” he continued, almost nonchalant despite the grin on his face and the vicious pounding he was giving your sensitive cunt. “I thought I’d have to order you to get off on the pain, or that I’d have to bash your pretty head against the wall to get you to listen. But I got lucky, didn’t I? I just happened to come across the most disgusting, most depraved little whore in the city, so eager and willing to listen, to take whatever I give you.” 

The hand that wasn’t keeping you quiet brushed against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh and you all but melted, whimpering with pleasure underneath him as he fucked you harder. 

“Oh, that’s it, let me hear you moan,” he said, throwing his head back with a growl, pulling his hand away from your mouth. “You don’t care who hears, do you? I bet you like it. I bet you love knowing that all your little friends and all your clients are hearing you get your pretty cunt ruined by a complete stranger, don’t you? You like them knowing that I hit you and choked you and you still let me fuck you like this. You just love that everyone knows that you get off on me hurting you, that everyone knows you’re just a desperate slut for pain.” He punctuated the last word with a hard, backhanded slap across your face. 

You nodded frantically, moaning your assent, hands grasping at his arms, holding on for dear life as he completely wrecked you. You felt him grin as he leaned in to bite your neck, his tongue darting over your sensitive skin as he did so. 

Your hand wandered, finding its way to his dark hair, and you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers through it, pulling ever so slightly, not wanting to risk his wrath again but unable to resist the temptation. Your eyes widened with surprise when he gasped and moaned, his teeth temporarily leaving your neck before he recovered and bit you again, much harder, this time on a sensitive spot just below your jaw that made you cry out. When he was satisfied with the mark he’d left, he broke away. 

“You know what would be fun?” he teased, his tone menacing as he roughly grabbed your breast. You shook your head, unable to take your eyes off him. “I’d just love to see what it would be like if you weren’t such an easy little slut.” He paused, running his hand up your body, admiring the marks he’d left with a self-satisfied look. 

“Put up a fight for me. That way, I can show you exactly how filthy whores like you deserve to be treated.” He sat up, his fingers clutching your hips so hard that you knew they’d leave even more bruises on your already aching body, never once faltering in his steady pace. 

You flew into action immediately, frantically trying to push him away, trying to kick hard enough to get him off of you, despite the fact that your body was still aching for more. He laughed, a quick cruel sound, almost surprised by how readily you threw yourself into the role of his struggling victim, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them down above your head without missing a beat, leaving you even more helpless than you already were. 

You moaned, feeling the way his dick throbbed inside you when you struggled harder, trying in vain to remove yourself from his grasp. Fucking sadist. You thrashed harder, your body still reflexively following his orders, but to no avail; he had you completely pinned in place. 

Almost without realizing you were doing so, you jerked your head upward, biting the exposed skin between his neck and shoulder and digging your teeth in hard, barely even noticing how fiercely you had latched onto him until you tasted blood. 

“Fuck!” he shouted, letting go of your wrists, hands immediately moving to grab your shoulders.  You let go with a sharp inhale the moment you realized what you’d done, horrified at your own actions. He roughly shoved you down, forcing your mouth away, still fucking you harder than you thought possible. 

“God, I should fucking kill you for that, I really, really should,” he growled. He turned his head slightly to look at the bite you’d left, scowling when he saw the blood beginning to seep into the collar of his shirt. He let go of one of your shoulders to grab your chin, forcing you to stare at the damage you’d caused. 

“Look at what you did,” he spat through gritted teeth, with a wild, almost manic look in his eyes. “You think you have the right to do that? The right to defile me like that after I’ve taken such good care of you? Answer me.” 

You bit your tongue, wanting to point out that ‘taking good care of you’ had involved beating you black and blue with a belt, choking you half to death with his dick, and then strangling you until you were nearly unconscious. Sure, you’d enjoyed all of it, but still. 

“Answer me,” he repeated, harsher this time. “Or I swear to god I’ll kill you.” 

“You told me to fight back!” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, pettiness entering your voice despite the murderous look in his eyes that made it very clear he had been expecting you to beg for forgiveness. 

He stopped moving completely. He was still all the way inside you, and you could barely stop yourself from grinding your hips against him to try and get yourself off, but you didn’t dare move. The hand that had been gripping your jaw released, moving upward to pat your cheek gently. 

“I did tell you to fight back, didn’t I?” He was mocking you, his tone sickly sweet and condescending, like you were a particularly petulant child that he was trying to discipline. Against your better judgment, or maybe just to see what he’d do about it, you nodded. 

Before you could even realize what was happening, you were in terrible pain, a pain that knocked the air out of your lungs, your eyes immediately streaming with tears from the impact. 

It took you a moment to process that he had just punched you in the face as hard as he possibly could. 

You instinctively doubled over, curling into a ball, body and mind reeling from the blow. Your ears were ringing, your vision clouded over. It felt like your brain had been shaken vigorously inside your skull, nausea welling up inside you at the sensation, all of it so severe you were afraid you might faint.

In your dazed state, you could barely absorb what he was saying to you, only catching snippets here and there: “...didn’t fucking tell you to ruin my shirt…going to show you…disgusting girls like you…”

You felt something being wrapped around your wrists as he manhandled you so that your arms were above your head. He’d bound you up with his tie, you realized, feeling the delicate silk against your aching skin. You opened your eyes as you felt his hands on your ankles, roughly pulling you so that you were lying with your legs spread for him. There was, you observed as your vision refocused, a decent bit of blood on the collar and shoulder of his shirt, a stain that you were positive would never come out. What a shame. Probably a designer shirt, too. Must have been expensive. 

You were shocked back into reality by him throwing your legs over his shoulders, bending you in half, once again filling your cunt with a hard thrust. Despite the pain still throbbing behind your eyes, which was slowly receding, you were still so, so desperate for him. You’d been close when he’d stopped, and in your hypersensitive state, you could feel your pleasure building rapidly, and before long you were writhing in his arms.

“Please, don’t stop, please,” you begged, barely even processing the words that were coming out of your own mouth. “I’m so close, I need it, please, please, I need to cum, don’t stop…”

“No,” he snapped, giving you a furious glare. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You don’t get to cum. I wouldn’t have let you cum even before you bit me like a rabid animal. What makes you think you deserve it now?” His last word broke off with an involuntary groan, his pace growing erratic in a way that told you he was close to a second orgasm. He inhaled sharply, collecting himself before doubling down. “Don’t cum. No matter how close you get, hold it. Do you hear me? Do. Not. Cum.”

Despite his orders, you felt your muscles begin to tighten, your pleasure mounting in a way that normally would have sent you over the edge, but nothing happened. You physically couldn’t cum. The feeling just kept building and building, far past what you thought was your breaking point, never stopping, overwhelming you to near-madness and never giving you a moment’s relief, and you bit your lip to stifle a scream. 

“Oh, don’t try to act all pitiful now,” he growled, punctuating it with a hard slap to your already oversensitive clit that made you cry out. “You know damn well that you earned this. And if you ever try to bite me like that again, I’ll make this permanent, do you hear me?”

Your eyes flew open, widening in terror. He couldn’t do that. Could he? 

The look on his face told you that he absolutely could. 

“Oh, it’d wear off eventually,” he purred, leaning in closer as if he were about to kiss you, his fingers just barely teasing your clit, his delicate touch unbearable in your hypersensitive state. “But I could tell you not to cum, over and over and over again, and you’d have no choice not to obey. I could keep you this close for days, weeks, months, maybe years if I wanted to, and drag you around with me like a needy little pet. I could order you to follow me around, to never leave my side. I could put you on a leash. I could parade you naked all over town, let everyone see how badly you want me, even with bruises and cuts all over you.” The thought sent a painful jolt of arousal through you, your legs shaking as you tried desperately to keep yourself from moaning at the idea. He grinned at you, making it very, very clear that you were doing a terrible job at hiding it. 

“Oh, of course that turns you on. Fucking depraved, aren’t you? Are you like this for everyone you meet, or do you just want me that badly?” 

You couldn’t form a concrete thought, let alone focus hard enough to give him an answer, but you knew his monstrous ego would love it if you could. You just wanted him that badly. 

His hand wrapped around your neck, not quite enough to choke you but hard enough so that you felt the marks from when he had. “God, who would have thought that this would be so fun? Beating and fucking a pathetic little thing like you, I barely had to order you to do a thing,” he teased, panting as he fucked you faster. “I’m going to cum inside you, and you’re going to like it. Beg for it. Do it. Now.” 

“Please,” You gasped for air, voice coming out as a choked whisper. You were in agony, every inch of your body burning with pain and anticipation and need for an orgasm that kept building and just wouldn’t happen. Burning hot tears were streaming down your face; you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. “Please, do it, cum inside me, I don’t care what happens, I need it, just…” 

Your pleading broke off into a desperate wail as he brushed a strand of hair out of your face. Even the gentle motion, combined with every other sensation you were feeling, was absolute torture, too much for you to bear. He grinned as you pulled away, trying to escape any more stimulation. 

“Oh, god, you look so damned pathetic…oh, god, fine, do it, cum for me, I want to see you break, just do it now--” His voice cracked, his hands desperately clutching at your hair as he came inside you with a desperate moan, feeling you tighten around him, burying his face in the crook of your neck.  

Your body went completely rigid at his command and you came hard, the feeling so intense that it felt like your skin was burning all over. You were vaguely aware that you were thanking him, over and over, unable to control the words coming out of your mouth. He silenced you with a forceful kiss, the first one he’d given you all night, and you melted into his touch, thoroughly overwhelmed. 

You felt his hips twitch, still riding out the last of his orgasm as you deliriously wrapped yourself around him, clinging on for dear life, moaning with ecstasy. 

Finally, he broke away from the kiss, and your body fell limp, overstimulated past your breaking point, so much so that you vaguely wondered how you were still conscious. Your legs dropped from where he had propped them on his shoulders and you lay there, trembling like a leaf, feeling the warmth of his cum inside you. 

When you finally collected yourself enough to see straight, you worked your wrists out of the now-loose binding of his tie, then raised your head to look at the man still lying on top of you. His head had dropped onto your chest, his eyes closed. He looked so still and gentle that you wondered if he was asleep.

You reached down, stroking his hair gently with shaking hands, remembering how much he’d liked it before. You wanted to have this little moment of vulnerability with him before he went all cold and ruthless again. He sighed, pressing himself further into your bare chest and wrapping his arms around you. You couldn’t hold back a smile as pride swelled inside you. You felt like you’d tamed some kind of monster, and really, you thought to yourself, you had. You could practically feel the bliss radiating off of him along with the warmth of his skin against yours. 

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling as you gathered yourself. You were sore all over. Your muscles burned from how tight they’d been for so long, your throat ached when you swallowed, and you still had a pounding headache from the punch to your face and the way he’d choked you. Your body had already begun to bruise, but you couldn’t stop smiling.

“It’s Kilgrave.” 

You looked up, vision still slightly clouded with pleasure. “Hmm?” His face was turned away, expression hidden. 

“My name. Kilgrave.” 

You grinned harder. You’d won.

“It’s pretty,” you giggled, giving his hair a playful ruffle. 

He quickly smacked your hand away, sitting up and pulling out of you with a scoff. Ah. There he was. 

“Shut up. Don’t even think about it.” 

“What?”

“You know what,” he snapped, reaching for his jacket. “Don’t play innocent now, especially not when you look like that.” 

You glanced down at your body. He had absolutely wrecked you, but your smile never faded as you looked back at him. 

He rolled his eyes, but there was no venom behind it, or at least none that you could detect. “Filthy little thing,” he muttered, re-buttoning his shirt. 

You sat up, stretching your sore muscles as he composed himself quickly. You were amazed at how he could go from looking absolutely delirious with pleasure one moment to looking like this the next, all put together and polished as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. 

“And where are you off to?” you said, glancing around the room, trying to find where he had tossed your clothes after you’d taken them off. 

“You don’t need to know that.” He walked quickly towards the door, but paused as he realized that you were still looking at him. He sighed with frustration, but still turned around to look back at you. 

“I’ll be back next week, if I decide you’re good enough for me to use again. In the meantime, don’t even think about opening your legs for anyone else, do you understand? I don’t want you catching anything and giving it to me.” His tone was bitter, but you could still sense something almost fond behind his words. “Now, once I leave, you’ll wait five minutes, then go out there and put on the best show of your life for all those sad desperate men out there, with my cum dripping down your thighs. Understand?” 

Ah, you realized. Not fondness. Possessiveness. Even better. You nodded, barely managing to suppress another proud grin. He gave you what you assumed was supposed to be a contemptful look before turning again to leave, but he might as well have given you a kiss on the forehead with how good it made you feel.

“Bye, Kilgrave,” you called as he left, giving him a playful wave. 

He looked back. He didn’t answer, but the facade slipped for just a moment as he blew you a quick kiss, and then he was gone, grinning like a man who had all the power in the world as he closed the door behind him. 

A/N: this is the first part of a series! if there's enough interest, i'll post the next parts :) Like, rb, and/or follow if you enjoyed, and thank you so much for reading!

[weepingwillowwonder]

#4 Hazbin Hotel Things I ✨️LOVE✨️ the idea of (because I can't share these things with people irl...)

[Explicit content: minors DNI!🫸🏿🔞]

Vox x Brat!Reader x Valentino

CW: Punishment, Exhibitionism/Voyeurism, Sub/Dom, Masturbation, Daddy Kink, Hair Pulling, Dacryphilia, Spanking

Brat!Reader getting in enough trouble with Vox that he bends you over on a nearby surface. One hand gripping the back of your neck and the other pressing down on your lower back. When he leans over you, you defiantly attempt to push your ass back against him, but he pulls away and firmly tells you not to move. At this point, you don't dare to disobey, content with his reaction and excited about what's to come. Surly in this position, he would choose to spank you, right? Or maybe he'd slide his hand between your legs, teasing you until you beg for more... When you shift the weight onto your other leg, your thighs rubbing together, making you moan softly. Hearing him shuffle around only gets you more excited in thinking he's preparing something for you. Suddenly breaking the silence, you hear a door opening and closing and an exchange of greetings.

A wave of shame comes over you when you hear Valentino's voice behind you, bracing yourself for his filthy commentary. However, that never comes. You're confused at the lack of acknowledgement and shift your weight impatiently, still staying in position. "...I'm sure the project with be in production soon. We're waiting on the suppliers..." Vox says. You hear bit and pieces of the conversation but are distracted by their complete indifference to the compromising position you're in...Is this your punishment? Frustration starts to build as time passes and you quietly whine as your legs start to tire. In that moment, you swear you hear a brief pause in the conversation. It's pathetic the way you feel a throb in between your legs at the thought someone might give you the attention you want.

As quickly as the moment passes, the conversation begins again, as does your annoyance that Vox would put you in a position such as this. Your press your legs together, earning a pleased sigh as you feel some sort of relief. At this point you're weighing your options: Getting up would be blatantly disregarding Vox's orders. Who know's what he'd do then? You bite your lip, not wanting to find out. You could call out to him and beg for forgiveness... But that would mean surrendering, not to mention there was a possibility he didn't accept your apology. Their conversation drones on about work and you convince yourself they're probably not even looking at you right now. Regarding you like a piece of furniture or a decoration...

Taking a deep breath, you quietly slide your hand down the counter and slip your fingers into your pants between your legs. There's a thrill in trying to touch yourself so openly in front of the two without them knowing. When you don't hear a lull in their discussion, you continue onward, pressing your fingers lower to rub yourself. It takes a lot to not immediately cry out at the contact. You press your forehead into the surface and squeeze your eyes closed. The position is awkward since your hand doesn't have much room to move...But any sudden moves would absolutely not go unnoticed. Trying to reach lower, you whimper as you finger the rim of your hole. Unconsciously stretching up on your tip toes to feel more, you don't realize the room is silent.

Lost in the desperation of trying to get yourself off, you're startled when a hand trails down your lower back, purring, "tu chica sucia.~" Valentino chuckles. "This is no good Voxxy! Your little toy is so desperate that they're willing to fuck themselves in front of you instead of listening..." He tilts his head at the way you arch up to his hand. "What they need..." he pulls his hand back and slaps your ass hard, forcing out a wonton cry from your lips. "...is something inside them. That's how I get the bitches to behave.~"

Vox scoffs and rolls his eyes in the background. He crosses his arms as he watches you both, feeling himself get hard at the sight of you wiggling underneath Valentino. "They won't behave if you give them what they want...What they need," he says leaning back in his chair, palming himself. "Is to learn what happens when they don't listen." Valentino hums and leans over you to grind himself against you, holding your hips steady with two hands, the other two holding himself up. You moan out his name, making him grin as he kissed up your neck. "Come on baby...why don't you tell daddy you're sorry, hm?" He pulls you closer and reaches down to slide his fingers up your shirt, "We know you didn't mean it.." He gropes your chest until he finds your nipple and pinches roughly. "Just wanted attention right?"

He slips his hand from your shirt and sits up, suddenly gripping your hair to pull him along with him. You cry out and reach upward to where he grabs you and whimper when he drops you on the floor. He quickly bends down, wrapping his fingers under your chin, and lifts your head to look at Vox. You blink away the tears and take a few deep breaths to settle yourself as you make eye contact. Vox's pants are undone, openly stroking himself at the display. He watches you with half lidded eyes, making you bite your lip. Valentino leans in close to your ear, watching him as well. "Tell daddy you're sorry, chica..." Your lip wobbles as you whine out to him, "D-daddy..." Your back arches as Valentino's hand slides down your pants, cupping you, "Tell him, baby..." He grinds the heel of his hand down hard, earning a gasp. "I'm sorry! Daddy, I'm so sorry! P-please I want...I want - " Vox shushes you, grinning at the tears streaming down your face. "Oh baby... Daddy knows what you need."

[kwanisms]

Kinkuary 07 Yeosang — degradation // panties

➥ dom!Yeosang × brat!Reader summary: Yeosang hates it when his girlfriend talks back so he decides to shut her up so he can use her without her running her mouth like the little brat she is. wc: 3.8k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, sexual content (minors dni!): dom!Yeosang, bratty!Reader, degradation (use of slut, whore, dirty/naughty girl, bitch, etc), Yeosang goes feral when the reader wears his favorite lingerie, use of panties as a gag, fingering, protected sex (reader is on birth control), a couple spanks, some hair pulling, Yeosang goes hard and rough but the aftercare is incredible and the post nut snuggles are 👌🏻 Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog Ateez taglist: @2hodefender @babyhailey819 @foxylilbitch @rdiamond2727 @indigo35 @sanjoongie @moonlightsora MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

a/n: i didnt mess up this time and remembered to finish editing the whole thing! Lmao anyway I almost made this a dom!Reader but I suck at writing those because I've never dommed in my life lmao plus, the idea of being a brat to Yeosang and having him shove my panties in my mouth to shut me up is top tier in my honest opinion. But don't worry, there will be more dom!Reader content later this month! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

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“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Yeosang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

‘I love my girlfriend. I love my girlfriend,’ he told himself repeatedly in his head.

And it was true. He really did love you. You were one of the few people in the world that truly understood him.

It was rare for him to find someone who understood his humor, or could relate to him on a deeper level than whether or not they like pancakes or waffles more.

He’d never met someone he wanted to spend hours upon hours talking to about anything and everything until he met you.

He’d have to send Wooyoung another thank you card for bringing you to him.

Your existence was truly a blessing to Yeosang, but sometimes it was a curse.

Particularly when you were being a brat. Like right now.

God, when you acted like a brat, it drove Yeosang up the wall but he wasn’t above putting you in your place.

“Please, Y/N,” Yeosang tried again, attempting to be reasonable and not snap.

“Today is not the day to get on my bad side.”

He could see the way you tried to hide a smirk. ‘Goddamn it.’

“Oh really? And why is that?” you asked, sitting up on the bed in your shared bedroom.

Yeosang curled his fingers into his palms, balling his hands into fists.

You were really testing his patience today and he was over it.

“Y/N, honey, please. Just do this for me and don’t question me,” he asked, pleading with you to listen.

“Oh, breaking out the pet names now?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“You really think that’s gonna sway me?”

‘Oh, that’s it.’

Yeosang moved in an instant, pushing you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you and hovering over you.

“I asked you nicely three times. You know what happens when you don’t listen?”

You tried to push him off you but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head and pushing your thighs apart with his knee.

“Let me go,” you hissed, trying to pull free but he wasn’t going to give in easily.

“I’m gonna teach you a lesson,” he growled, sitting back and shifting as he pulled you up, dragging you over his lap until your ass was in front of him.

“Yeos-AAH!” You cried out as his hand made contact with your ass, the sound ringing out.

“Count,” he ordered. You looked over your shoulder at him. “No,” you replied defiantly. Yeosang’s eyes narrowed and he landed another smack on your ass.

You cried out again, skin tingling from the pain. “Stop it!” You tried wriggling in his grasp but Yeosang held you still. “If you won’t hold still, I’ll tie you down!” He growled. “I’d like to see you try!” You hissed.

Yeosang threw you back onto the bed, getting up and moving to the dresser that stood against the wall. He pulled out something long and red and before you had a chance to get away, he had both your wrists bound together with the red satin rope and was using the tail to tie you to the footboard.

“Let me go, Yeosang!” You said, pulling on the rope and trying to yank it free but knowing your boyfriend, he tied the knot too well for it to just come loose.

You looked up at him, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each labored breath. His hair was tussled, strands falling into his face. He combed his fingers through his hair, pushing the stray strands away.

“Now you should calm down,” he said, kneeling on the bed.

“Like hell I will!” You growled at him. You felt another sharp smack to your bottom, making you moan this time. “I told you I’d teach you a lesson,” he said, moving to kneel behind you. “What are you doing?” You asked, trying to look over your shoulder at him. You felt his hands on your hips, smoothing over your shorts.

“Did you know you’re soaked through your shorts?” Yeosang asked, eyeing the wet patch where your crotch was. “No I didn’t,” you protested.

“Then did you piss yourself?” He demanded. “No!”

Yeosang returned his gaze to your clothed pussy.

“Then let’s have a look,” he said, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and yanking them down with your underwear, exposing your obviously wet pussy to him.

“Yeosang!” You said indignantly, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“So you’re telling me you aren’t wet right now?” He asked, inspecting you, bringing a finger to your clit and swiping over it, collecting some of your arousal.

Your body jolted at the sensation and you dropped your head, letting out a whimper.

You heard Yeosang chuckle from behind you. Your head snapped back up. “What’s so funny?” You asked.

“You are,” he said, smoothing his hand over your ass, admiring the marks from spanking you just moments ago.

“How am I funny?” You demanded, still trying to glance back at Yeosang.

You felt him get off the bed and tried twisting to see where he went.

Suddenly you felt his hand close around one of your ankles and tug, forcing you to fall onto the mattress and a yelp to erupt past your lips. With you stretched out, he removed your shorts and panties fully.

“You could have asked for my help!” you whined, rolling onto your side to look at him. Your eyes widened when you realized he was holding your panties in his hand, staring at them intently. His head turned slowly to gaze at you, making you feel smaller and like prey caught in a trap and a predator happened upon you.

“So you thought you’d just wear these and I wouldn’t find out?” Yeosang asked, his voice low as he walked around to the footboard of the bed. You swallowed the lump in your throat, your words failing you.

In his hand was a pair of black mesh panties. They were part of a set that Yeosang had claimed was his favorite one and one you knew he loved to see you wear. The back was made up of a complex mess of straps while the front was the mesh material. The matching bra, which you were indeed wearing, was the same black mesh with straps made from a soft black elastic,

Yeosang grabbed your shirt by the hem and pulled it over your head, letting it fall onto your arms.

“You were prepared,” he said admiring the black mesh and the way it looked against your skin.

“You planned this, didn’t you?” He asked. You shook your head. “No. My comfy set is in the wash,” you answered. It was the truth. Your comfiest set of underwear was in the wash and this was the next most comfortable.

“Sounds like a lie,” he said, walking back around to the side of the bed and climbing on behind you.

“It’s the truth!” You whined as he grabbed your hips and pushed you onto your stomach before he pulled you up onto your knees, keeping your chest pressed against the mattress.

Yeosang scoffed, not buying your explanation. “Uh-huh. Sure it is, slut,” he said. You opened your mouth to talk back but gasped when you felt him pull your ass back against him, grinding his hard erection into you.

He leaned over, a smirk on his face. “What, no witty comeback?” He asked before pressing a kiss to your shoulder and leaning closer to your ear. “Color?”

That was something you loved about Yeosang. No matter what role he slipped into, he made sure to check with you that you were okay. You’d both decided to use the color system in addition to a safeword. When he wasn’t sure whether or not to continue, he’d ask you for a color. Green for good, yellow for change, and red for stop.

“Green,” you whispered, trying to hide your smile as he pulled himself upright.

“God,” he said, looking down where your wet heat had rubbed against his pants, leaving a noticeable wet patch.

“You’re so wet that you could soak my pants,” he said, giving your hips a firm squeeze.

“I bet you’re so wet you could take my cock right now without any prep,” he added, moving his hands to your ass and spreading you so he could see your cunt unobstructed. “Wanna test it?” He asked, a hint of amusement to his voice.

“You wouldn’t,” you said, voice shaking. His hands were so close to where you wanted them yet so far from giving you any sort of friction.

“I wouldn’t?” Yeosang asked, fingers digging into your skin, nails leaving crescent shapes behind.

“You don’t have it in you,” you said, your words hitting him unprepared. “You’re so whipped for this pussy.”

Without a word, Yeosang shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt, making you gasp.

“You mean this pussy?” He asked, curling his fingers slightly, making you whimper. “The one I’m going to fuck until I’ve pumped it full of my cum? The one that only I get to fuck? That pussy?”

You moaned, walls clenching around his fingers. “The-ng- the only way you’re getting it is by tying me down, Yeosang,” you replied, your hands balling into fists as Yeosang slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you.

“To teach you a lesson,” he retorted. “You’re being such a damn brat.”

You let a giggle slip out as you pushed back into his hand and just as quickly as he filled your cunt with his fingers, he left it empty, making you whine.

“Only good girls get to cum,” he said, leaning over your back as he brought his fingers to your mouth. “Open.”

You turned your head, refusing to obey him. “Don’t make me ask again, Y/N,” he growled, grabbing your chin with the other hand and bringing his fingers to your lips. “Open your fucking mouth, slut.”

He held your chin in place as you reluctantly parted your lips, allowing him to push his fingers into your mouth and onto your tongue, making you taste yourself. “Clean them,” he barked. Rather than make a fuss as his fingers were already in your mouth, you obeyed, tongue swirling around his fingers and sucking your arousal off them.

Yeosang released your chin, pleased with your compliance but he knew it wouldn’t last. It never did with you.

You, who liked to push his buttons. You, who liked to talk back and make things much more difficult than they needed to be. You were defiant in every way and tonight, Yeosang would finally put you in your place. If that was with a rough fucking, then so be it.

You opened your mouth, tilting your head back to show him that you could listen. He pulled his fingers from your mouth. “See?” You said, eyes shutting, quite pleased with yourself. “I can listen when I want to,” you added.

“So it would seem,” Yeosang said softly, his fingers keeping your mouth open as he looked inside it.

Without warning, he shoved something into your mouth, causing you to cry out in shock and your eyes to open.

“Don’t you dare push that out,” he growled, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. The ferocity in his voice made your legs quiver, sending chills up your spine. He’d never been so rough before and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t excite you.

Yeosang waited for you to nod before his expression softened. “Green?” He asked softly. You nodded again and he let go of you.

“I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you,” he said in that same tone from before.

You heard the sound of his belt and a zipper being pulled before a slight rustle of cloth. Assuming he pushed his pants down, you waited for him to enter you, bracing yourself as you felt the tip of his cock rub against you ever so slightly but made no move to push into you.

After a couple moments, you opened your mouth to ask what the hold up was but found yourself unable to speak as Yeosang suddenly rammed into you, a scream ripping from your throat.

“Oh that’s new,” Yeosang said with a chuckle. “I’ve never made you scream before.”

“Mmhhmm,” you moaned, the sound muffled by the panties stuffed in your mouth. Your walls clenched around him as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

“Have I rendered you speechless in one thrust?” He asked in a mockingly sweet tone. “Where’s that attitude now?”

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, even with the gag, before he started a punishing pace, his hips hitting your ass with each hard thrust. “I knew you’d take my cock easily,” he said, his breathing shaky as he continued to pound into you.

“Such a receptive little slut,” he purred, one hand tangling in your hair and pulling back, arching your back and making you moan again as his hips continued their assault. “Still green, baby?” He whispered near your ear, loosening his grip on your hair so you could nod quickly. “Good girl,” he said, a rare praise that made your heart swell and sent butterflies to your stomach.

His grip tightened and he pulled back again.

Moans left your mouth, muffled by your gag, with each hard thrust he gave you. His cock hit deeper than he’d ever hit before, making you see stars in your vision. You could feel something running down the inside of your thighs and assumed it was your own arousal. “F-fuuuck,” Yeosang groaned from behind you.

“You take my cock so well. Such a greedy little cunt you have,” he added, punctuating his sentence with a harsh thrust. He looked down where your bodies connected and was surprised to see how you’d gotten even wetter as he fucked you.

“Looks like you’re making a mess. You’re so fucking filthy,” he scoffed. “What a dumb, dirty little whore. You like being used like this?” He asked, leaning forward and pulling your head back to look up at him.

You were an absolute vision. Black panties shoved into your mouth, cheeks red and eyes glossed over. “Shit, look at you,” Yeosang said, a smirk forming on his face. “You love this, don’t you? Being tied up and letting me use this tight little hole, you just love it don’t you?”

You couldn’t respond, even if you didn’t have your panties in your mouth.

Yeosang's hips slowed to a stop, making you ask what he was doing, albeit in a very muffled voice.

When he didn’t answer, you pushed back against him, urging him to move. You felt his hand make contact with your ass cheek, your body reacting and a moan sounding from your throat.

“Are you that needy you have to fuck yourself on my cock? Can’t wait for me?”

You shook your head, knowing if he thought you didn’t need him to move, he’d make you do all the work.

Yeosang let out a growl, resuming the same unrelenting pace from before.

“You’re lucky I’m not in the mood to play,” he panted.

His hands held your hips, pulling you back to meet each thrust, making more muffled moans slip past your gag. You dug your fingers into the sheets, trying to ground yourself against his force.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Just sit there and take what I give you, stupid slut,” he growled.

Your head dropped, forehead resting against your forearms, eyes shutting as you lost yourself in the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls with each thrust, the head hitting your most sensitive spots. You weren’t going to last if he kept going like this.

“You falling asleep?” He asked, the dominant tone in his voice gone. It was replaced by pure concern.

You lifted your head, shaking it and putting his worry at ease.

“Green?” He asked, confirming you were still good. You nodded again.

“Good, I’m close. Are you close?” He whispered. You nodded with a moan, your walls squeezing him as your orgasm drew closer and closer.

Yeosang reached around your stomach, darting between your thighs and finding your clit and drawing circles in time with his thrusts. You let out a cry, body tensing as your climax started to wash over you. “That’s it, come for me,” Yeosang whispered, his lips inches from your ear. “Good girl. You did so well.”

The soft tone of his voice as he coaxed you through your orgasm had your mind reeling, thighs squeezing together as the aftershocks of your high rolled over you.

The constant convulsing of your cunt around his cock pushed Yeosang over the edge and he came inside you, filling your heat with his load as he continued to thrust erratically, fucking his cum further into you as a small amount spilled out of your used hole, rolling down your thighs and dripping onto the bed below.

“Fuck!” Yeosang growled, his hips finally stilling and his cock buried deep inside your already full cunt.

He pulled his hand away from your swollen and sensitive clit, pulling your panties from your mouth and tossing them somewhere in the room. He’d worry about them later.

“Talk to me baby,” he murmured, pressing light kisses to your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, body shaking as you tried to keep yourself up but your thighs were numb and shaking.

“I can’t feel my legs,” you muttered. Yeosang pulled out of you, wincing as more of his cum spilled out of you. He was gonna have to wash the sheets tonight.

“Hang on, baby,” he said, pulling his pants up and zipping them up. He moved around the bed to untie you from the footboard. He worked quickly, untying your wrists and pulling the rope from them, letting it fall to the floor. Another thing he’d worry about later.

He carefully laid you down on your side, hands moving to massage your thighs. “I’ll be right back,” he said softly, getting up from the bed and disappearing into the bathroom.

You heard the water running and a moment later, he reappeared, stripping himself of his clothes and pulling on clean ones.

He returned to your side, taking your wrists gently in his hands and rubbing the marks from the ropes.

“Was it too tight?” He asked, looking into your face. You shook your head. “No. Was perfect. Thank you,” you mumbled sleepily. Yeosang cupped your cheek, leaning over to press a kiss to your lips. “Stay awake, baby. You can’t go to sleep yet.”

“But ‘m so sleepy,” you whined. Yeosang chuckled, the hand on your cheek moving to comb through your hair. “I know sweetheart, but I can’t let you sleep until after I care for you. Can you walk?”

You shook your head again. “Legs don’t work.”

Yeosang stood up, scooting you towards the edge of the bed before lifting you carefully and carrying you into the bathroom. He set you on your feet, keeping you upright as the blood started to work its way back into your legs. He helped you lift your leg and lowered you into the hot bath water before turning it off.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your hair and disappearing through the door.

You inspected your wrists, the red marks from the rope starting to dissipate. You stretched your legs, trying to get the blood flowing again.

Yeosang returned after a few minutes, during which you were able to get your legs working. “You okay?” He asked, kneeling by the side of the tub, setting a fresh towel and clean clothes on the closed lid of the toilet.

“‘M okay, Yeo,” you affirmed, smiling at your boyfriend. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

“You want to stay in there a little longer or get out?” He asked, nodding at the tub. “I could stay a little longer,” you answered. Yeosang moved to sit on the side of the tub, grabbing your favorite bath sponge. “Then lean forward for me a little bit?” He asked, smiling when you obliged him without fuss.

He carefully scrubbed and massaged your back, fingers working over your shoulders as well. Watching your reaction, Yeosang dragged the mesh sponge down your chest, past your stomach and between your legs. Your lips parted in a sigh as he worked the sponge against your skin soothingly, scrubbing off any remnants of his and your cum. He left no spot untouched and kept going until the water started to cool down.

Once you were clean, he pulled the plug and helped you stand, grabbing the towel and wrapping it around you. It wasn’t the first time Yeosang had helped dry your body and it wouldn’t be the last.

After he was certain you were sufficiently dry, he helped you dress, allowing you to hold his shoulder to keep balance as he held your underwear for you to step into, pulling it up and doing the same for your shorts. Your shirt was the easy part,

He led you back into the bedroom and you saw he’d pulled the sheets and put fresh ones on. He sat you down and sat next to you, grabbing a bottle of water from the side table where a plate of fruit sat as well.

You looked at him as he twisted the cap off the bottle of water.

“You always take such good care of me,” you muttered as he handed you the water, grabbing the plate of fruit and snacking on a grape.

“Well,” he said, swallowing his bite. “I may call you mean things during sex,” he explained.

“But you’re still my baby girl,” he added in a much quieter voice. “I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I didn’t pamper you after what I just put your body through.”

You smiled again, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips. “Thank you, Yeo,” you whispered.

The two of you finished off the fruit and water before climbing into bed. Yeosang reached over to turn off the lamp beside the bed, throwing the room into darkness before wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close.

“Yay,” you said softly, making him chuckle. “What?” He asked.

“This is my favorite part,” you replied. “What is? Sleeping?” Yeosang asked with a laugh.

“No,” you answered. “The snuggles.” Yeosang smiled at you in the darkness, kissing your hair.

“Ahh, the snuggles,” he repeated, you nodding in response.

“Yeah, post nut snuggles are the best.”

[cryingisnecessaryfanfics]

Tartaglia x reader nsfw 💦

fatui! reader,,, gender neutral until **** afab afterwards. might make an amab version tho. Not spell-checked or anything, this took me months to write lmao.

(this was written to satisfy my own blood kink, in no way am I implying this would happen irl or that I support this irl)

TW/CW: Wounds, blood, stitches, blood kink, pain kink, sadomasochism, dom/sub-themes, bottom(switch?) Tartaglia, blow/hand job, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, Childe cries, praise kink, sliiiiight degradation, overstim, use of the word pussy, uh reader cuts him >.>, multiple orgasms... I think that's it?

summary: Reader gets put with childe to babysit him and gets turned on when he gets hurt lmao. Then smut.

Words: 3,985

The bustling of Liyue harbor fades into the distance as you walk side by side with the 11th fatui harbinger, Tartaglia. Or Childe, as you were supposed to call him in public. The man wasn't like anything you’d heard about him. There was nothing cold or ruthless about him, and in the time you’d been accompanying him, he’d been nothing but gleeful and cheery. If anything at this point you were starting to think he was more of a nuisance than a threat.

Nonetheless, you continued to supervise this man-child of a harbinger, there was a promise of compensation waiting for you at the end of the two weeks you would be together and you’d be dammed if you’d give up a job like that.

But sometimes you really consider throwing it all out the window and decking that son of a bitch right in the face.

“Comrade~!” A blob of orange crosses in front of your vision and you roll your eyes before focusing on the face now inches from your own. “You’d better pay attention or you’ll walk right into that hoard of hilichurls.” He points to the left and you follow his hand over to a mob of hilichurls bunched together and dancing about.

“Oh.” Is all you say and he laughs.

“Are you feeling well, comrade? It seems like your head's not in the game.” He lifts an eyebrow at you and continues before you can respond. “Don’t worry, you can sit here and rest while I defeat them.”

“Yeah like you can take 20 hilichurls at once,” you respond with a roll of your eyes, “I’ll help you, dumbass.” And you start to pull your sword out from where it sits at your side.

But Childe stops you with a hand and speaks again. “I don’t like that you underestimate me, comrade. I’ll handle it and you watch so you can learn a thing or two about how to take on a large number of enemies.”

“Whatever,” You sigh, “just don’t come crying to me when you get trampled.” And with that, he smirks and runs over to the mob of enemies.

Watching him fight is interesting, to say the least. For one, instead of trying anything with that bow he carries about, he goes straight for his hydro daggers and starts slashing this and that like a madman. He takes down three hilichurls at once with one calculated slash and laughs manically as blood splatters his clothes.

His dry cleaning must suck, you think before focusing on his movements once again. The hilichurls start to circle around him and close in and he kicks one to the side before putting his daggers together. In the process, a brave hilichurl reaches out and slashes his torso with one of its claws. Childe yells out in pain and for a moment, perhaps only a second or two, you see his jaw tighten and a glaze pass over his eyes. You’re awestruck with the image of his pain written on his face still in your mind long after he pours elemental energy into his weapon and takes out the whole lot of enemies in one move.

His cry of pain replays in your mind again and before you realize it your eyes have widened and your face has gone red. Childe, now standing in the murder scene, starts to turn towards you and you rush to fix your face and calm your racing heart before he can see you ogling.

When you see his face again he’s panting and out of breath, a smug smile still there despite his exhaustion. Your eyebrows furrow as you lock your eyes on the gash in his side, trying your hardest to push out the desire that floods into your mind as you study its severity.

“Learn anything?” He says as walks towards you again, and you make sure to note the strain in his voice for… medical reasons, before responding.

“Yeah, how to get yourself hurt while being reckless.” And you take one of his arms to pull over your shoulder.

“Don’t- be a prick,” He says despite the little breath of pain he lets out in the middle. It goes straight to your stomach and you look away while walking back onto the path.

“Shut up.” You say and an awkward silence settles between the two of you. The only sound filling up the lack of words is Childe’s ragged and unsteady breathing, which not only makes your heartbeat quicken but also feeds into the growing lump in your throat.

It takes a while before anyone speaks again, and this time it’s when the medical practice is in sight.

“You don’t have to do this you know,” Childe speaks quietly, a little hiss falling from his mouth when you startle from his words. “I’ve had worse wounds.”

You roll your eyes, “trust me I’m holding back from dropping you on the ground and leaving you there. I, however, have a conscience that would be a bitch to handle if I left you to rot.”

He laughs at that, a rough and breathy sound you’d never heard from him before. Something that made your annoyance with him soften in the slightest bit. He breathes in as if he’s about to say something but a nurse gasps and runs over to take him from you before you can hear it.

-

By the time you see Childe again, he’s back to his usual self, you know because the nurse is flirting with him as she hands him off to you and he’s looking at her with his signature grin. She tells you to clean his wounds before and after bed before flashing Childe one more smile and retreating back into the clinic.

“She was nice,” You say sarcastically and start walking towards Childe’s expensive house.

“Not gonna help me walk this time?” Childe pouts and you send him a glare. He seems to get the message because he starts to ramble about something while you walk to his place.

Luckily the walk to his house is short and you make it there just as the sun starts to slip out of sight. When he lets you in you take off your shoes at the door and follow him through the house.

It’s a bit awkward watching him walk into his bedroom fully expecting you to follow, even more awkward when he pulls off his shirt and throws it onto the queen-sized bed.

“Wanna get the first aid kit, comrade?” He says, and you stare blankly at him. “It's in the bathroom through that door.” You nod and walk over to the door, pushing it open and flicking on the light.

The bathroom is as expensive looking as the rest of the house, a huge bathtub and a shower with glass doors sit on one side of the room. A toilet and sink on the other. You head over to the bathroom counter with expensive-looking marble and sort through the drawers until you find the first aid kit.

When you walk back into the bedroom Childe is sitting on the edge of his bed, unwrapping the bandages on his torso. You take a moment to study him, the way his arms and back are filled with all sorts of scars. It makes something click in your mind. Makes your stomach flip over and your grip tighten around the first aid kit in your hands.

“Going to stand there all day?” He doesn’t even look up as he speaks. His fingers, now gloveless, run over the bandages on his stomach, he pulls the last of them off and looks up at you with a quirked eyebrow.

You are pulled from your daze when his sapphire eyes meet yours. You blink once before averting your eyes and crossing the room to get to him. You sigh as you realize the awkward situation to come, only praying the man in front of you doesn’t notice the redness at the tips of your ears as you kneel before him.

The process is wordless, you don’t dare glance up at Childe’s face, nor does he remark about your flushed state. You open the first aid kit and take out the antiseptic wipes, holding your breath as you reach up to touch his stomach. The wound is long and red, stretching from one side of his chest all the way down to the waistline of his pants, where the very end disappears under his clothes. You work carefully around the stitches, trying not to pay too much attention to the way his muscles twitch when you get a little too close. You shift positions, placing one hand on his thigh to stabilize yourself. His leg flinches slightly in response causing your hand to slip against his wound.

“Sorry,” You say and instinctively look up at his face for signs of pain. He sucks in a breath and when you see his face your stomach drops. He’s red, biting his lip and blushing furiously under half-lidded eyes.

“It’s fine,” He mutters through his teeth and you gulp as a pang of desire goes straight through you.

“Tartaglia,” You murmur, the hand on his thigh subconsciously squeezing as your lust grows.

“Fuck,” he breathes and it’s nothing like anything you’d heard him say before. Your eyes dart down to the slight bulge in his pants and then back up as if you couldn’t look for too long.

You set down the wipe in your hand and bravely reach up to touch his neck. He looks at you again, wide-eyed, with a whisper of your name on his lips.

“Can I…?” You trail off, not sure of what you’re asking for before he nods and you’re pulling him down for a kiss. Your lips meet in a rush, unsure at first before Childe grows restless and deepens the kiss while taking your face in his hands and tilting his head. It sparks electricity within your stomach and you reciprocate with just as much need.

When your tongue brushes against his lips, he opens his mouth almost instantly, eagerly accepting your tongue as it tangles with his. While your mouths dance together, you let the hand at the back of Childe’s neck trail down to his chest and run your fingers over his skin. He groans into the kiss while you roam your way around his body, eventually finding what you had been looking for.

It only takes the slight brush of your thumb against the tie of one of his stitches for him to moan in pain. He breaks away from the kiss to sigh into your mouth, the kind of exhale that shakes and begs for another breath right after.

“Does my pain amuse you,” He says against your lips, delight in his voice despite the lack of smile on his face.

“It's not amusement,” You reply with a harsh swipe of your finger against his wound. You savor the way he cries out before finishing your response. “It’s lust.”

“Sadist,” He accuses with a grin and you smile back at him, your hand falling from his injury down to the desire pressing hard against his pants.

“Masochist,” You tease back, pushing your hand down gently on his crotch.

“Hah-“ His head falls to your shoulder, his hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. “I guess I’ve been found out.”

He pulls you into another desperate kiss before you can respond and you happily accept it. You push down on his crotch again and his hips buck into your hand. You hear him whine when you pull your hand away. His lips part from yours, his eyes lazily pleading with you to touch him again.

“Aw, look at that, you’ve pulled your stitches,” You coo and he hisses in pain when you gather the blood leaking from him on your finger. You’re entranced at the sight of his blood on your hand, the crimson liquid staining your skin.

“You look beautiful when you’re bleeding you know.” His eyes widen at your statement, following your hand as you reach for the spare dagger strapped to his thigh. You pull it from its sheath and tap it against his skin.

He breathes your name again, a hand coming down to touch himself.

“Ah-ah,” you tut, pressing the knife harder against him. “I’ll help you with that later. If you bleed for me.” He closes his eyes and furrows his brows as if debating whether he could wait that long.

“Fuck, fine, just hur-” you interrupt him with a pull of his dagger, watching his face contort as you drag it across his torso.

His breath catches and you savor the way it sounds while your eyes dart back down to watch the red liquid fill the shallow cut you had made.

“That's not so bad is it?” You give the wound a little kiss and he tenses under the touch of your lips, the feeling of your chest pressed against his desire making him restless.

“I- cant take it,” He pauses, “I need you so bad, god, please.”

You sigh and while you had wanted to draw more blood from him, the sound of his plead led you to comply. “When you ask like that how can I refuse?” You mumble, putting his knife back in its rightful place before making your hands busy on his belt.

His own hands fumble to help you while murmuring his thanks. When his belt is tossed to the side somewhere in his massive room, you unzip his pants and take his length out of its confinements. He moans when he feels your skin against his own, almost sobbing when you close your hand around him and roughly jerk upwards.

“So good, so so good.” He’s whispering as you start to find a satisfying rhythm. His hands fist the bed sheets and he starts to rock his hips with the pull of your hand.

“Ah- just like that,” He gasps out and you take the opportunity to overwhelm him. You lean towards him, kissing the tip of his member before opening your mouth and licking his slit.

He lets out the most elicit moan you’ve heard so far and opens his previously shut eyes to stare down at you. There’s a glaze over his eyes and he twitches at the sight of your mouth on him.

He breaks when you suck on his tip and his pleasure pours into your mouth in thick ropes. You don’t take the time to let it sit on your tongue before you’re swallowing and releasing him from your mouth with a pop. You move to stand in front of him, tilting his head to look up at you with his hazy blue eyes.

**** afab reader ****

“I helped you out so now you’re going to help me too, yeah?” You smirk as his eyes widen and then narrow again. “It's only fair after all.” You watch the haze leave his eyes and the desire pour in.

“Gladly.” He murmurs before slipping his hands under your shirt and sliding it up. It's stripped off you in seconds, his hands tracing your waist up your chest, and then down your shoulders. You shiver at the touch of his warm hands on your skin, the softness of his fingers, and the way he glides down your body like flowing water. You let out a shaky breath as he reaches the waistband of your pants, his fingertips slip under and all too quickly he's pulled them down and you’re entirely bare in a matter of seconds. He pulls you down to sit on his lap your privates just inches away from his.

You share a breath together for a moment gripping his shoulders as you settle into a new and heated position. Your thighs are pressed against Childe's, his chest pressed against yours. You're both bare and vulnerable, exposed for the other to see.

And then his fingers find their way to your clit, a small gasp escaping you as he starts to rub it in circles. It's sensitive at first but soon pleasure starts to rush up your stomach and down your legs.

“Did seeing me in pain make you this wet?” He teases and you have to choke back a moan when he gathers a bit of slick from your hole.

“Shut up and do what you’re told harbinger,” You mumble, hand coming up to grip the hair at the back of his head. But he just grins in response and slips one of his fingers into your heat. Your grip tightens with the sudden invasion sending a burst of pleasure down your thighs. A moan rips its way through your throat.

"Fuck- Tartaglia," you can't help but whisper as his finger curls inside you. Your head falls back, lips parting as you soak in the pleasure. He seems to hit all the right spots making your head spin and your vision blurry.

"Is this good enough for you sweetheart?" He says and you can't help but groan in annoyance.

"Don't- be a tease," your voice comes out shaky but you take the opportunity to tug his hair harshly.

He whines in response and another finger finds its way into your heat.

"Good boy." You praise and his fingers start to pick up the pace. You lean into his frame as the pressure building up in your stomach gets more intense.

"God, don't stop." You moan out, mind far too lost in the feeling of his fingers inside of you to care what you say. Your release is getting closer and closer as his fingers hit all the right spots. All it takes is the rub of his thumb against your clit and you're seeing stars.

Your thighs squeeze together and a chill runs through your whole body. Faintly, in the back of your mind, you're aware that you've clamped down on childe's fingers, which now struggle to move inside you.

When you're finally able to see straight you look at childe's blue eyes and lazily smile at him.

He grins back, "That feel good, baby?" He murmurs and you huff a little laugh in response.

"Better than good," you pant out and rest your head on his shoulder.

"God you looked so hot like that." He mumbles almost as if to himself. That's when you notice the pressure against your thigh and the fact that he's painfully hard again.

You place a hand on his chest and whisper, "Lay down, I want more." You don't fail to notice the way his lower part practically jumps at your words or the way he quietly groans at the thought.

Nonetheless, he grabs you by the hips and pulls you closer to him before he leans back as you had told him to do.

You grin at him while you straddle his hips and hover above him. Childe moans when your body makes contact with him, watching the way you slowly take him into yourself. When you finally bottom out Childe's hands fly to your hips, gripping them hard enough to leave bruises. He let out a sort of choked noise, his eyes closed and mouth open. He was truly the picture of sex, hair messy and cheeks flushed, his muscles all tensed with need.

"Don't move." He chokes out and it's raspy and strained, undeniably attractive. So much so your stomach drops and you clench around him.

The moan he lets out from your action is louder than any of his others. "Don't!" He cries and takes multiple deep breaths, trying his best to calm down and get used to the sensation of being inside of you.

"Awh is my pussy too much for this big strong harbinger?" You tease and he grits his teeth. "Relax baby, you can come as many times as you want inside me."

He just groans in response too lost in the bliss of you all around him, invading his senses.

Naturally, you long to see him completely fucked out and start to move despite his words. Slowly raising yourself up with your legs and dropping back down onto him, hitting just the right spot every time.

"Fuck, I- I'm gonna cum if you do that." He's barely able to think clearly as he rushes to say what he can.

"Go on then." You start to pick up your pace, "Fill me up real good, pretty boy." Your voice is strained by now, but the slap of your skin and the wet sounds that fill the room drown you out anyway. Besides, you both are a moaning mess, desperate to reach as many highs as you can take.

Just as he warned Childe reaches his climax quickly and he's so fucked out, he uses his strength to slam you down and hold you there while he pours all he's got into your pussy.

He cums hard, squeezing his eyes shut and arching his back while he digs his nails into your skin. The pain is a nice mix with the throbbing of your heat and the warmth flooding into your body.

You watch in awe as he rides it out, little tears and gasps escaping him when you move even slightly. You know he's done when his hands fall from your hips and he relaxes into the bed with newfound exhaustion.

"Don't tell me you're already spent?" You murmur, leaning forward to move his hair sticking to his forehead, his sapphire eyes blinking open and wincing with the shift of your hips.

"C'mon baby, I know you've got more in you." You whisper against his lips, eyes half-lidded staring into his, as you start to roll your hips.

He inhales sharply and his hands move to grip the bedsheets. "Too much, fuck, too much too much." He whines it out, his face contorting in pain.

"Awh does it hurt baby boy?" And you fake a little pout to hide the grin that threatens to spread on your face.

"Yes!" He chokes out between moans eyes brimming with tears. "More, hah, please."

You let go of the smile, sitting back up and roughly bouncing up and down on him.

It's painful at first to take him so roughly so suddenly but you push through it knowing pleasure was on the other side. And after the pain numbs the pleasure comes cascading over your body. It's overwhelming just how much floods your senses. The way your hips become desperate and wild, the way all your muscles tense in anticipation.

And then it all crashes. You cry out as you hit your high falling onto Childe's chest and clenching down on his length. Your vision goes white, and you gasp and gasp for air while your body trembles and shakes. And though you're too lost to notice, Childe cums right after you hugging you against him while you both come down from the high.

When you can finally breathe you manage to separate your body from his and fall to the side of him. Instantly relaxing into his expensive and comfortable bed.

You both lay there for a moment just breathing next to each other and processing what just happened.

"Holy shit." Is all Childe says, and the tension snaps, laughter falling from your lips despite your soreness. Childe soon joins you with his own soft chuckles, taking your hand in his.

The night ends in a fit of giggles and shaky legs as you clean up each other. Finally re-bandaging the wound that started it all, and the bonus one next to it.

You fall asleep on Childe's big comfy bed together, savoring the way he feels in your arms. (and the way his big ass bed is probably memory foam and so damn soft)

****

hope you enjoyed :3

[junhuifurby]

It is way too late for this sh*t and I’m tired but this was revealed to me in a dream: playing with his hair ❤️. Irl he hated the texture of hair so he wouldn’t play with our hair, probably. But his own hair is defo silky af. I 100% believe he could fall asleep to his hair being played with.🫠🥺

—🐦

Oh yeah absolutely, I stretch my headcanons for RoR Tesla 💔

I’M FINALLY BACK LMAO (I saw that season 2 was out and I got motivation)

Playing with his hair, Nikola Tesla x reader

He was tired, for once he had hit dead end after dead end. He could see his invention in his mind, he could even see how it worked, but for some reason it was just wouldn’t come to fruition. He was stressed, maybe too much so. He mulled over the thought of taking a break, but never acted on the thought until you came to drag him off to bed.

You were able to sense how stressed Tesla was just by looking at him. The bags under his eyes, his messy hair, and his laboratory a mess. You looked at him with concern from the top of the stairs- he didn’t even notice you when started walking down the creaky wooden stairs.

“Nikola?” You asked gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s getting late, you should come to bed.”

He jumped when you touched his shoulder and whipped his head around to look at you. He looked more on edge than ever, but his harsh gaze softened when he saw your worried face. He sighed and pushed away the mechanism he was working with tiredly.

“I know it’s just- this blasted thing won’t work! I know how to make it work, it just simply refuses!” His somewhat quiet voice drastically increased in volume as he vented his frustrations. “It’s like it’s only goal is to make me insane!”

“Why don’t you take a break. It might be-“ You were interrupted by your own yawn. “It might be better to look at it with fresh eyes in the morning.”

You moved to hold his upper arm with both hands as you tried to non-verbally implore him to come to bed. He looked at you hesitantly, but you could see the inner turmoil in his eyes. He was debating in his mind over slaving away on this invention or joining you in going to bed. On one hand he might make a breakthrough somewhere in the early hours of the morning, but on the other hand if he came to bed with you he could relax and make a breakthrough tomorrow.

With a tired yawn he had made up his mind.

“You’re right my dove, It’ll be best to look at this when I can think again.” He said softly as he kissed your cheek.

He let you lead him up the stairs and to your room, and before long you both were in bed with the lights were off. You would have been peacefully sleeping if it wasn’t for Nikola’s incessant tossing and turning.

“Dearest-“ You said, somewhat exasperated as you pulled him gently into your chest. “Rest, please.”

He was about to protest until your fingers threaded through his hair gentle. He could hear your heartbeat as you gently ran your hands through his silky locks. The gesture itself started to calm his restless mind. He slowly closed his eyes as you played with his hair and hummed a soft tune. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you gently as he slipped into one of the best sleeps in his life.

————

Sorry if this one’s a little shorter and took so long 💔

Life is a bitch. Anyways hopefully I’ll be updating more frequently again :b!

[borathae]

Holly molly oh gosh i’m gonna faintttt Sibibaby i binge read all the chapters last night and i’m sleepless as fuck but i’m sooooooooo happy and excited and warm and angry and anxious??? At the same time???

Geez my comments will be so messy because i’m going to talk about aaaalll the chapters i’m so sorry for this hehe

1-Their reunion 🥺🥺🥺 please i love yoongi boongie so much oh gosh he’s so caring and loyal and lovable and all the thing i want in a boyfriend 💜

2- Tae…oh tae tae tae i love u boy but not right now 🥲 sorry… i mean i love their polly relationships you know but sex with strangers? Making out with strangers in front of your mate? Just no. Sorry Taehyungie :(

3- Umm excuse me but is it weird that I literally panted and goes like ‘helll yeah!!!’ when Yoongi rip that Fringella bitch’s hand?? We love the protective creator boyfriend 🥺🥺💜

4- Okay when they met up with werewolves Yoongi said something like ‘i had my woman in my arms’ and I LITERALLY melted 🥺🥺 His woman 🥺🥺💜

5- I love it when Yoongi Boongie is a little possessive over oc 🥺 don’t judge me 🥲

6- When Jimin force fed his blood 🤬 I just started to feel soft towards to Jimin and then BAM! He fucking did this! And you know when oc felt sick because of Jimin’s blood i was like ‘ i want Yoongi 🥺’ and then he came and i felt safe again 🥺🥺

7- He was so fucking cute during their little lunch date! When he said the tree’s name all cute and waiting for her praise 🥺🥺 I like his mentality like ‘i like Jungkook too and i care for him too but you are my mate and the one in my life and i fucking cherish and protect you’ Oc you lucky girl *sighs* (i mean he didn’t say that exactly but i feel that his emotions towards oc is a little different from what he feels for others)

8- And Jungkoookkk!! Omg i feel so happy that they talk and officially become a couple gosh i was waiting for this 💜💜🥺 (mmm girlie? He unhinged his jaw just because he wants to swallow her entire boobie?? Excuse me?? Why so hot?? 🥵)

9- ohh and i almost forget that he cried when oc got lost in Paris :(( don’t cry Yoongi Boongie oh gosh he is so afraid to show his emotions freely but he literally cried when oc found him in front of the bar 🥺🥺 i’m gonna cry too noo

Omg Sibibaby i’m so happy to catch up!!!! MV is a masterpiece perioddd 💜💜

FJAJFJAJ YESS AAAH JFAJDFJ

NO BUT I AGREE WITH YOU SO FUCKING HARD OMFMG MIN YOONGI IS THE BLUEPRINT 😭😭

FJADSJFA this situation was so messy fajdsjf honestly Tae really didn't act like the greatest when he did that 😩

bruh same JFASDF SO FUCKING SAME FAJDSFJ this shit is so hot ajfjd like if an irl!man would do that "for me" I'd call the police, but vampire!yoongi doing that? brUHAFHD YES FANDFNA OMFG

afjadsfah that part afjadsjfja thisf ajdsfja I didn't think that "my woman" would have such a great impact on all of us and yet here we are afndsfn

SAME BRUH same 😩😩

I feel the same!! I really enjoyed their interactions beforehand and I was all rooting for them and then Jimin pulled that stunt and I just wanted to fight him🥴

I agree! I agree so fucking hard! This is the only truth :( OC will always be his one true mate and that thought just breAKS ME 😭 also the tree part ripped me apart he is sO CUTE AFJDJF

OKAY BUT I DIDN'T think that people would like the jaw unhinging part so much hahaha I cackled like crazy when I wrote it becuase it's so stupid but I love that you guys are into it fjadjf 😏

THIS THIS THIS!! THANK YOU omfg I knew I could count on you to be all like "oh soft boi cried" HAHAHA we are sharing one braincell again fajdsf he is smitten for her it's crazy 🥺🥺

I missed seeing your name in my inbox, my love hehe I'm glad that you're back and that life is treating you better again 💜💜

[myusernamechangesevery5minutes]

**SAW X SPOILERS ALERT ⚠️**

*Extra warning: some uncomfortable images from Saw… proceed at your own risk** ⚠️

How I’d have survived every trap in Saw X because I’m immortal (in reality I died in the first 5 minutes).

Eye vacuum trap 🥽 👁️ : **sigh**

I can’t lie I’d not be avoiding any mutilation here… but fuck meeee just turn the dial straight up to 5 😭😭😭 I’m not saying I wouldn’t break 1 finger then bitch about it until the time is up then die irl. But after breaking 1 finger, most people would rather go straight to 5 than feel their eyeballs leave their skull. 💀

Pipe bomb trap 💣:

Not sure if this would work as Jigsaw is always watching 👀, but avoid struggling because the timer is not actively beginning, this timer must be started by something, it is triggered when the wire attached is pulled. This may buy more time to think of other solutions. Then try to cut the duct tape off your hands with the knives and use your hands to remove the pipe bombs to avoid as much injury as possible. Or wait for Jigsaw to approach and attempt to defend yourself with the knives, then wait for help?

Bone Marrow Trap 🦴:

Fuck no did John give so little time to saw off her whole damn leg! The only way I can think to get out of this is to try using the gigilo saw on the ropes holding you in place and duck out of the way to avoid decapitation. Then save the poor guy from the brain surgery trap because he had no hope 😭. With this trap, just make sure John and Amanda are distracted. Again risky… as Jigsaw is always watching.

Brain surgery trap 🧠👹:

In terms of surviving without help, if the instruments provided can cut through the skull, it may be possible to cut through part of the trap, but this would be time consuming and not foolproof. Also to avoid putting in less grey matter, could he have put part of his skull in the dish, it may have absorbed some additional enzymes attached to the skull?

Otherwise I’d hope someone else saves me I doubt it or flirt with Amanda and hope she sets me free.

Radiation trap ☢️:

Again, hope you can make Amanda take pity on you and fall in love with you like the empath she is.

Or try breaking your thumb only, as the tool provided is small enough to do so. Then do a bit of an Eric Matthews and slide your hand free. Bit less painful and should be possible in the time limit, plus avoids smashing your ankle. If the lamp moves because you’ve failed to break your ankle chain, you can run behind the lamp to avoid it or keep moving, as it’s easier to move and take cover without a broken ankle. With hands free, could use clothing add some layer of protection on your face and buy more time 🕰️

Blood boarding trap 🩸:

There won’t be an unlimited supply of blood so being altruistic and taking turns is a survival tactic. Although, if you were paired with Cecelia on this trap, this may not be the best option.

In this case, turn your head to get more opportunity to breathe? Or tilt your head up so the blood lands on your head not directly blocking airways (this would be very uncomfortable but you might survive).

Burning gas chamber 🔥💨:

First you could try to find the source of the gas and block it with clothing or items in the room or damage it. If not, just straight up killing the other player to avoid severe injury and reach the air vent is the best bet of survival, but not a Kramer approved way to survive. Is the gun cabinet big enough for a person to fit in? You could sit in there and shut the door on yourself to keep the gas out, cover and cracks in the door with clothing, it would buy more time.

Bonus round

Scar tissue trap ⛓️:

Firstly, whatinthefuckisMarkHoffmandoinghere 😍

Secondly, there’s little chance in fighting with Hoffman to escape this trap so best bet is playing along, or playing dead. ☠️ Hard to say as we never get to see Henry’s end, but that twist had everyone in the cinema shook I couldn’t speak 😭😭😭

Alright and that’s all I got!

Disclaimer: No chance would I survive a saw trap, please do not try these at home 🤣

Would you like to see more posts like this? And if so traps from a full movie, or smaller posts about specific traps/one trap at a time.

Comment more of your ideas for survival!

Until next time… 🌀

[case-57-with-the-enclosure]

Chapter 2

The power went out and i have to stay up to take some meds. SO:

please be aware of the content warnings and be safe on your reading :] <3 that being said im ready to get my ass kicked by the prose let's go

=======================================

"(..) the void between worlds is a nothing-place, where code is boiled down to its barest components. There is no concept of hot or cold– there simply is, and is not (...)"

man i love the embrace of the "everything is, at its core, just 1s and 0s" aspect of it all. instead of ignoring the source of the story it writes it a ballad and dances with the thread that unites it, very nice :> scratches my brain good

(dear reader i am restless for i cannot find a proper playlist of ambient slightly melancholic music to have as a background. jazz and blues have too much personalities and i get distracted, only piano is too basic for the mood. i do not know where to turn.)

"His limbs feel like they're made of lead, but he rolls his shoulders anyway, dislodging some of the blankets to let cool air slip between his feathers. Grian sighs at the sensation, and some of the tension stringing throughout his body eases. He's not sure where he is, but for the first time in months, in almost a year, he's– comfortable. He's comfortable. Grian's not sure what that means."

broken at the thought of how long he hasn't had a home, and hasn't known rest.

"Grian's seen what code-death looks like, and he's Seen a consciousness dissolve from it, melting to join the rest of the code that makes up their universe. No, to die would mean giving up his individuality, merging with everything else, rejoining the collective– Grian still knows himself as Grian, and therefore he can't be dead."

fun fact this is very close to what i think irl death to be like. anyways i keep finding it fascinating i want to know EVERYTHING about this Worldbuilding and how it affects its cosmovisión (idk if there's an english word for it- probably the same)

"This hunger is a low rumble deep at the core of him, steady in the same way one might test a newly healed bone. The kind of fragile after a respawn, when your skin has knit together but the echo of pain still lingers."

WHAT THE FUUUUUCKKK (positive) what do you MEAN this hunger is like distant thunder that reverberates in the chest!!!!! ALSO THE IMPLICATIONS IN THE MECHANICS OF RESPAWNING!!!!! eats it. eats this paragraph.

"The room he's sitting in is unfamiliar– a sort of bare-bones interior with mismatching wood for the walls, as if it had been constructed very hastily. There's not much in it aside from the bed he's laying on and a double chest, as well as a chair to the left of his bedside. No real decorations– not even carpet. "

this man really almost died and is still subconsciously criticizing the decor- spot on characterization y'all.

"Grian sucks in a painful breath, lungs flexing– instinct wants him to taste, to Look, to pull answers from the fog like a seeking lighthouse."

bitches will see the word lighthouse used in monstruos contexts and go crazy. its me I'm bitches THAT ONE FRAGMENT ABOUT MONSTERS AND LIGHTHOUSES HOLD ON let me look for it hold on

ok its Ocean Vuong, from On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous.

yes im gonna copypaste the whole thing here it is:

"You’re not a monster, I said.

But I lied.

What I really wanted to say was that a monster is not such a terrible thing to be. From the Latin root monstrum, a divine messenger of catastrophe, then adapted by the Old French to mean an animal of myriad origins: centaur, griffin, satyr. To be a monster is to be a hybrid signal, a lighthouse: both shelter and warning at once."

EATING IT UPPPP

"While it doesn't matter so much now, habit stills his wandering eyes before he can even open them."

i love how this sentence is constructed, the choice of words AUGH its so phonetically pleasing to me.

'Tango clearly doesn't get this message. Instead he jerks forward, brows furrowing in concern. "Shoot, sorry, okay– yeah, that was a little loud, sorry. But it's cool, man, we're good, you're good." His smile goes a little lopsided at the edges. "It's just me, promise."'

The need to reassure him, the way his only message and priority is "you're safe"......... sick and twisted (<- emotional)

"It tickles the back of his throat, urges to sing through the air, but he bites it back. Instead he swallows, darting glances between Tango and his own hands."

"Horror wells up his throat. He must've somehow been feeding on them– it's the only explanation for why the hunger isn't subsuming him now. Even unconscious, he can't stop himself from being a monster."

"It's such an absurd question that Grian almost chokes on a bitter laugh. He forces it back down his throat instead, swallowing it like razor blades."

orz man.. the hunger & feeding symbology, and the recurring throat + swallowing-to-keep-it-from-bursting-out imaginary.....

"The dread that pools in Grian's stomach is a black, gurgling tar, spreading viciously through his veins– ice-cold and numbing, until he can't quite feel his hands enough to tell if they're shaking."

ohohohohoho- sorry grian i know you're like, basically a scared little baby chicken rn but oh what a tasty tasty use of language.

"Instead he is saddled with all of them, pulse a rapid song between his teeth."

OOF once again- just, nice.

OH POWERS BACK HELL YEAH

oke for the record this conversation is devastating and heart shattering (good), and i got too hung up on it to grab quotes to cite. let it be clear: there are things i love that im too busy loving to realize i should put them here ajsajsgssk

"The words drop from his mouth like beads of glass. They shatter as they hit the floor, and for a single, small eternity, Xisuma stares at him with blank eyes."

curls up with my eight hundred pillows and my dog plushie Bianca. god

" "Grian, ple–" Xisuma starts, but he's interrupted by the door flying open with a slam.

Both of them jump. Grian shies away from the reverberation, eyes wide; Xisuma's hands fumble his helmet, almost dropping it. As one, they twist their heads to stare at the open door, still shuddering on its hinges.

Framed in the doorway, covered in stone grit and cave dust– hair mussed and eyes frantic– is Mumbo."

oop my tummy did a lil scared jump there

===================================

Overall feelings on this first chapter:

ok so first of all

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

yknow? but also loved how the tendril-like feeding was conveyed, same for everything that had to do with throat/moth/eating :> i promise this is not a Hell Yeah Vore kind of review im so sorry if it sounds like that KWGAKSGSKAJS

very emotionally moving in the sense that you've got my guts tied around and weighted down by an anvil so. excellent job as expected ok bye mwah

✒️ Fic Dissecting Time

My highlights for lost in the dark (he's got a heavy heart) chapter 1, by @definitelynotshouting

definitelynotaroughdraft (definitelynotshouting) on AO3

This dissection will consist of highlights and commentary on the transcribed fragments.

Please be sure to read the tags and cws, we're going by dead dove rulings.

Spoilers ahead.

This is by no means anything formal- it's the writer equivalent of putting all your toys on a single line.

The author has a very lovely rant here that gives the piece context- but im sure you know that, if you read their notes 👁 please read this fic. then come back and agree with me.

===================================

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: Gen, M/M

Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP, 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Relationship: Charles | Grian/Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar; Charles | Grian & Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar; Oliver Brotherhood | Mumbo Jumbo & Charles | Grian; Charles | Grian & Xisumavoid; Charles | Grian & Pearl | PearlescentMoon; Charles | Grian & TangoTek; Jimmy | Solidarity/TangoTek

Character: Charles | Grian, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Oliver Brotherhood |

Mumbo Jumbo, Xisumavoid (Video Blogging RPF); Pearl | PearlescentMoon; TangoTek (Video Blogging RPF); Hermitcraft Ensemble

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Charles | Grian, Charles | Grian Angst, Watcher Charles | Grian,

Watchers, Charles | Grian Needs a Hug, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal

Thoughts, Starvation, Eating Disorders, Parasites, &lt;-- the watchers

are parasitic, Body Horror, Trauma, Eventual Happy Ending, Recovery,

Self-Harm, my guy be in SITUATIONS, Winged Charles | Grian, Identity

Issues, every single tag i add makes me realize how hard im making

grian go through it, rip king you'll get a happy ending i promise,

Misunderstandings, Worldbuilding, sooo much worldbuilding, Not RPF,

Not Beta Read

===================================

its been a while since I've read angst for the sake of hurting and yknow what? i missed this feeling of controled despair.

And, Grian realizes, with a flicker of– of something undefinable (he can't say it's excitement, because he isn't actually keen to die– but it's something. A bit like hope, a lot like loss, in the shape of grief and threaded, ultimately, with desperate relief) (...)"

(sobbing, wheezing, heart-ached) what the fuck. what the actual fuck.

The devastation yawns in the deepest pits of his heart, in his very code, and threatens to tear him apart at the seams.

"the devastation yawns" alright. next time just gut me with a knife it'll be quicker than DESINTEGRATING MY SOUL LIKE THIS???? i love that, i love that so badly.

"Grian grits his teeth, then lifts his hand and opens his mouth, sinking them into the base of his thumb. Copper sings on his tongue; the spike of burning pain forces his eyes inward, drawing his attention and keeping it there as blood fills his mouth, thick and tacky."

AUGH thats it!!!! thats what this fic tastes like- burning copper, not as in copper that's been burnt, but as in copper that leaves a painful heat as it goes down your throat, that you can feel cruising your chest and guts as it makes its way down your stomach. (positive).

"(...) he chokes out, and that seems to break whatever trance Xisuma, Pearl, and Tango have been in this entire time. They rush forward, eating the distance between them in rapid strides, until they're all crouched around Grian."

gods i LOVE the use of "eating" here. its so visual and tangible i love it

"Voices rise around him in a cacophonous symphony, but Grian no longer has the strength to parse them. He sinks, dribbling into the abyss like molasses from a bottle. The darkness consumes him. He does not dream."

"He does not dream" my stomach hurts this is so good. tasty tasty angst. also molasses. the molassiest word ever.

===================================

Overall feelings on this first chapter:

that was. so tactile and textured- i need to hold it in my hands and press my palms into it, and let the spikes in its texture hurt my hands a little. its so good, the wording makes it so engaging and leaves you enraptured on its flowing narrative- you sure did put that guy in situations huh

if you've read all the way over here: hi ü hope you don't mind this block of text of cero coherent analysis. i had fun.

i have to attend to my life now before i run late, so I'll return to this piece and its dissection soon (hopefully in some hours?)

[luvfae]

REVENGE

summary: nate is your boyfriend and you found out that he cheated on you, so you decide to get revenge.

fandom: euphoria

pairings: elliot x f reader, nate x f reader

warnings: smut, cheating, swearing, unprotected sex, public sex, sex in the pool (don’t do this irl, it screams uti)

You had been dating Nate Jacobs for a few months now and honestly it wasn’t the best relationship. He was angry, all the time, for no reason. It was just apart of his horrible personality, not to mention he wasn’t the best in bed, which was a real deal breaker for you. But you stuck around to see if maybe he would get better with time. Safe to say he only got worse.

You were at school when Maddy, your best friend, came up to you and told you the truth.

“Y/N, don’t freak out but I you need to hear this,” Maddy said. You turned your full attention to her, closing your locker. “Last night I went to Cassie’s house and walked in on her and Nate fucking.”

Your eyes went wide, rage filling your entire being. “That bitch!”

“I know, she’s a total traitor,” Maddy said.

“No. Not Cassie, Nate!” You replied. Maddy furrowed her eyebrows. “He’s terrible in bed and somehow he manages to cheat on me?!”

“Well, what are you gunna do about it?” Maddy asked. You thought about for a few seconds, various plans running through your head until you had the perfect one.

“I’m going to cheat on him and make sure he finds out,” you said. “Tonight, at his party.”

“Cheating on him in his own house at his own party?” Maddy said, eyebrows raised. “Bitch, you’re my soulmate,” Maddy laughed.

-

School ended and you were at Nate’s party, standing with him in the kitchen as he grilled you about what you were wearing.

“What’s the problem Nate?” You asked, rolling your eyes at him.

“Too short, too much cleavage,” Nate huffed, glaring at you. “You look like a fucking whore and it’s embarrassing me,” he said.

Your sighed, downing your drink before dropping the empty glass onto the floor, on purpose. Glass shattered all over Nate’s feet and his glare on you hardened. “Whoops,” you said, nonchalantly, rolling your eyes and pushing past him and leaving him alone in the kitchen.

You searched around his house, trying to find anyone who was alone and attractive. Your eyes landing on a boy who you recognised from your math class. You smiled, walking over to him. You had nothing to lose.

“Elliot right?” You asked, staring at him as his eyes raked up and down your body.

“Yeah,” he said, bringing his joint to his lips, taking a long drag. You reached over, stealing his joint and and taking a hit for yourself. Elliot watched you carefully, trying to figure out why you were talking to him.

“Do you wanna go for a swim?” You asked, blowing smoke into his face, handing him back his joint.

Elliot snickered, looking over at the empty pool. “You’re serious?” He asked and you nodded. “Okay, sure,” he shrugged.

You grinned, grabbing Elliot’s hand. You led him through the crowd and outside to the pool, where you kicked your heels off and pulled your dress over your head. Leaving you in your underwear.

Elliot let out a nervous laugh, watching you as you stepping into the pool, diving off the stairs and into the water.

You emerged again, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. “Don’t just stand there, get in here,” you said.

Elliot took his clothes off, getting into the pool. You swam over to him, hands snaking around his neck and your legs wrapping around his waist. Elliot rested his hands on your hips, eyebrows furrowed, wondering how the hell he got himself in this position with you of all people.

You smiled at him, pressing your lips against him. Elliot was taken by surprise, but he quickly kissed you back, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You pulled away, peppering sloppy kisses against his neck.

“I’m so horny right now,” you whispered, glancing around. So far, nobody was looking. “I want you to fuck me,” you said, looking back down at him.

“What, right now? In here?” He asked and you nodded with a smile, your bottom lip in between your teeth. Elliot breathed out, eyes wide at your request.

“Please?” You begged, staring at him with innocent eyes. “I need you so bad,” you said, your hand reaching down into the water to palm his already hard cock through his briefs.

Elliot groaned, pushing you against the edge of the pool, your back flat against the wall. You smirked at him, reaching into his briefs, your hand wrapping around his shaft, slowly pumping him up and down.

“Shit,” he whispered, looking down, watching your hand work magic against his cock.

“My boyfriend is gunna fucking kill you when he finds us,” you said.

Elliot’s eyes snapped up to yours. “You have a boyfriend?” He asked.

“Nate Jacobs,” you replied. Elliot shook his head, wondering what the fuck he was doing, getting ready to pull away from you. “But he cheated on me, so it’s fair game now,” you said.

“Jesus fucking christ,” he sighed.

Elliot pursed his lips, thinking about this moment. He wanted to fuck you so badly. His sinful thoughts taking over, all commonsense going out the window as he pushed your panties aside, moving closer to you once again.

You bit your bottom lip, arms tightly wrapping around his shoulders as he pushed his hard cock inside of you. Your jaw dropped as he stretched you out, you weren’t used to having something so big inside of you.

Elliot began to snap his hips into yours, fucking his big cock into your pussy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “That feels so fucking good,” you moaned, nails digging into the skin of his back.

Elliot fucked you senseless in Nate’s pool. Everything about this situation was making you more and more horny, you didn’t care if people were watching and you hoped that Nate would find you.

“Your so tight,” Elliot breathed. You moaned at his words. “Your boyfriend been depriving you, Y/N?”

You nodded. “You fuck me so much better,” you whined. “Shit, don’t fucking stop.”

Elliot placed his hands either side of you, thrusting his hips faster, grunts escaping his mouth at the feeling of your tight pussy wrapping around him.

“You’re gunna make me cum,” you said, face twisting in pleasure as your felt your orgasm building. Water splashed around you as Elliot fucked you harder than anyone ever had before. You couldn’t stop the moans that were falling from your mouth. “Yes! Please don’t fucking stop,” you cried, mouth open wide as you looked up at him.

Nate had been looking for you everywhere. He was convinced you had left, until Cassie informed him that you were in the pool.

“I locked the door so people won’t go out,” Cassie said, running after him as he barged past people to get to the pool. “I don’t want you to get embarrassed if people know.”

“Know what?!” He yelled, taring the door open. Cassie flinched when he slammed it in her face, watching him stalk over to the pool.

You moaned loudly as your orgasm began to tear through your body. “Fuck, i’m coming!” You cried, legs shaking, pussy convulsing against Elliot.

Nate looked over at the scene before him. Watching as another guy fucked you in his own house. He swear he saw red at the sight.

You noticed him out of the corner of your eyes and looked over at him. A smirk forming on your lips as you rode out your high. “I want you to cum inside of me, Elliot,” you said, never breaking eye contact with Nate. “I wanna be able to feel it all inside of me, fill me up, please,” you whined, looking back at Elliot.

It wasn’t even about the revenge anymore for you. Elliot’s dick was better than you thought it would be. You pushed your lips against his, tongue sliding into his mouth as you felt his dick twitch, hot cum shooting inside of you.

“Yes, give it all to me,” you grinned. Elliot looked at you, eyes filled with lust as he rode out his high, slowly pulling away from you. He pressed a sweet kiss against your forehead, fixing your underwear for you and you smiled.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Y/N?!” Nate yelled.

You and Elliot both looked over at him. You laughed at his reaction. “It sucks doesn’t it? Being cheated on, now you know how I feel,” you said, swimming towards the steps to get out of the pool.

“Fuck…” Nate whispered.

“Fair is fair, Nate,” you smiled, grabbing Elliot’s hand, stepping out of the pool with him. “We’re gunna get going,” you said, snatching your dress and heels from the ground. You looked up at your ex boyfriend. “Now that i’ve found someone who actually knows how to use their dick i’m kinda excited, where should we fuck next, Elliot?” You asked, glancing over at him.

“Anywhere you want, babe,” he replied, playing along, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You smiled at Nate. “See ya,” you waved, taking Elliot’s hand again and walking off. “Oh, and incase it wasn’t clear already, we’re over!” You called.

Nate watched as you walked off with Elliot, his hands closed into fists, breathing heavy. He was so humiliated by everything that had just happened, but you couldn’t of been happier.

Not only did you get your revenge you also found Elliot, which was a huge bonus.

© luvfae 2022

[pandoa]

"say you love me but make it sweeter"

you tell rook you love him. in a language he doesn't quite understand.

~rook hunt x gender neutral reader~

warnings: slight cursing; reader speaks tagalog. as i’ve said before, my tagalog is a tad rusty, so if there are any fluent tagalog speakers out there who can check my grammar, i’d appreciate it very much!! i��m too embarrassed to ask my irl filipino friends lol

just something short i wrote that’s purely self indulgent; happy birthday to meEeeEEEeEe~

“Mahal na mahal kita, Rook. Ikaw ang aking puso at aking buhay. Ang ilaw sa pinaka madilim ng gabi ko. Hindi ko kayang mabuhay nang wala ka, aking sinta.”

“(Y/n),” Rook’s voice rang throughout the golden-accented room of the Pomefiore huntsman. “What did you just say?”

You gave your eccentric boyfriend a knowing smile that reached the corners of your eyes in mischief, “Not telling~”

“Ah! You wound me, mon ange!” The shining blonde cried as he clasped his heart, feigning agony at your pixieish stunts. “How can one live in mystery after their beloved has spoken such lyrical words?” Rook, playing along with your indifference, sighed as his mind ran miles—pondering the meaning behind your native language. There was something so warm about each poetically bewitching thing you said. He could feel the sincerity and passion within your unknown words and was determined to pull the hidden meaning out of your wonderous mumbling. The man was curious, could you blame him?

“Well, continue to suffer because I’m still not telling you what I just said,” you laughed, beaming at the hunter.

The young man glanced at you anticipatingly, “Tell me what it means.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“What if I knelt down on one knee right this instant, reached out for your hand, and declared my love just for you?”

You paused for a moment, contemplating his tempting offer, “...Never.”

“Trickster, I beg of you!”

“Oh, Rook—I already said no,” you said, giving him a sympathetic grim—almost pitying Rook’s desperation. “It’s more fun this way; like a small little secret only I know out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland~”

Rook, giving you a subtle pout, then promptly placed a gentle grasp onto your unknowing shoulders as you both sat atop the cotton covers of the vice housewarden’s mattress. “Mon tresor, if you refuse to tell me what it means, then please at least say it again. I wish to engrave your lovesome, enchanting voice into my mind.”

You looked his way again, baffled at his surprising request. “But… You knew nothing of what I had just said? Why would you want to hear it again?”

“Because your voice alone is so beautifully ethereal,” he replied with a certain tenderness gracing his tone, “however when partnered with the harmonious words of your home’s language, I cannot help but adore each syllable that comes from your angelic self.”

“I could have easily just insulted you and called you a bitch, you know,” you jokingly commented.

“Even that is beautiful in itself, mon amour.”

“...”

“You're hopeless, Rook.”

“Aha!” The man you called your lover laughed at your amusing reactions. “But you love me just the same, do you not~?”

You stared at the blonde—deadpanned—before sitting up and making your way out of the Pomefiore dorm room, away from the said third-year. “No comment.”

“Ah—Trickster! Wait!"

✧ ･ﾟ : ˚ · . ✧ ･ﾟ: ✧.* .ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐ ✧.* ✧ ･ﾟ : ˚ · . ✧ ･ﾟ:

“I love you very much, Rook. You are my heart and my life. The light of my darkest night. I cannot live without you, my dear.”

✧ ･ﾟ : ˚ · . ✧ ･ﾟ: ✧.* .ೃ࿐.ೃ࿐ ✧.* ✧ ･ﾟ : ˚ · . ✧ ･ﾟ:

a/n: IKAWWWW LAMANGGGG ANG TANGI KOOONG MINAMAHAL~ ANG LAGI KONGGGG DINARASAL~~~ also yes that last quote is a translation of what reader said- i'm cringing lmao

[nervousgardenerkid]

Trinkets from the heart

a/n: i'm so sorry this took me forever😭i've been struggling irl AND i've had REALLY bad writers block but i have a lil motivation now so slay! i hope you enjoy this bestie again im sorry it took so long😭credit to the gif owner!

warnings: none really! this is modern au cause why not?? robin calls reader a bitch but not in a mean way, not proofread.

yo, are you coming over still?

you giggle at robin’s text shaking your head.

who says yo anymore??

listen, you made me binge watch breaking bad. i had to pick up traits from my favorite character 😒

you don't even have time to type out your response before your phone starts to ring.

“hello?”

“hey where are you?”

you hear shuffling on her side of the phone, you know she's putting her shoes on ready to get you if she needed to.

“I just got in my car, I needed to stop somewhere for our trade!”

a sigh leaves her mouth and you hear her grunt.

“how far are you? i miss you and want a kiss.”

you press the phone between your ear and shoulder as you start to buckle up.

“maybe like 15 minutes away? did you want me to pick up food too?”

robin lets out a hum. “no it's okay, i'll order some pizza or something.”

“okay that's fine, i'll see you soon.”

“wait!” robin exclaimed. you put the phone back onto your ear and let out a hum as you start the car.

“tell me you love me.”

you roll your eyes playfully, you can tell from her tone that she has a small pout on her lips.

“bye Robin, I love you.”

“haha you like me.” is the last thing you hear before she hangs up the phone with a laugh.

you roll your eyes, muttering under your breath how you fall for it every time without fail. you put the car into reverse getting ready to back out of the parking spot when a message pops up on your screen.

drive safe babe! ily <3

-

you park in robin’s driveway, a smile forming on your face when you look over in the passenger seat at what you have for the trade.

“she's going to love you, benny! trust me.”

you're quick to exit the car. the minute you slam your door robin swings open her front door. her smile gets wide and she makes her way over to you with open arms.

“you're here!”

you turn around letting out a giggle when she groans at the feeling of your arms wrapping around her.

“I'm here! and I bought the thing I wanna trade!”

she lets out a gasp and pulls away from you trying to get a sneak peek at what you got. you push her away trying to shield the passenger window that has benny on full display.

“go inside you dork. I'll be there soon.”

“fine, only cause I need to get my trade ready too.”

she goes to make her way inside, but not before giving you a kiss. your cheeks redden as you push her away making sure she’s inside before you grab the cute stuffed…thing you got from the store. you close the passenger door and start to make your way toward her house. once you reach the front door you open it and peak your head in first, looking left to right to make sure she's nowhere in sight. when there was no signs of robin you step inside and lean against the door to close it gently.

“okay,” robin exclaimed while walking into the living room. “I'm ready if you are! We can do this after the pizza or before it. I'm okay with either option.”

a whine escapes from your lips as you hide benny behind you.

“You know I can't make decisions! you choose what you want to do first.”

Robin shook her head and sat at the table with her hands behind her back.

“I made the decision last time! it's your turn to choose.”

you walk up to the table and sit at the chair across from her. you make sure to lean forward a bit that way benny can stay hidden behind your back while your arms rest on the table.

“Okay fine, let's do the trade first and then put on a show while we wait for the pizza.”

her eyes light up. “Can we watch Breaking Bad again?”

“Yes, we can watch breaking back again.”

Robin mutters a yes under her breath while clapping her hands lightly. she clears her throat and smiles at you before her hands return back behind her.

“Are you ready for the best trade of all time?”

you nod your head, eager to show her what you got for her.

you both start counting down from three, as soon as the number one reaches both of your ears you both slam your hands on the table. your smiles are a mile wide but shock soon replaces your smile while robin has nervous written all over her face. your eyes fall down to the medium size box that was in her hands and you feel tears prick your eyes. inside the box a delicate gold chain rested on the velvet plush and attached to it was a small heart.

“Well now don't I feel silly,” you mutter while hiding behind benny.

“what? why?”

“Robin, you got me a necklace and all I got you was a cute plushie from target!”

Robin lets out a small awe and sits on the chair next to you.

“and I love this little dude!”

Silence falls over the both of you as she stares at it with a curious glint in her eye.

“What is he anyway?”

“A freak of nature,” you mumbled while laying on the cute stuffed doll.

Robin lets out a laugh and throws her arms around you, bringing you in for a hug.

“Well, I love him. He's my favorite freak of nature right after you.”

You begin to roll your eyes but stop when robin clears her throat and gently pushes the necklace toward you.

“It's like, fine if you don't like it. Heart-shaped jewelry is lame, at least according to tiktok but I thought you'd like this one.”

“It's not lame if it's from you,” you say quietly while gently grabbing the necklace. The small pendant lies in your hand and you smile down at your warped reflection.

“This is so beautiful Robin, don't let TikTok lie to you ever again.”

Robin smiles, feeling accomplished that you fell in love with the small gift she got you.

“Open it! I want you to see what I put inside of it.”

You gasp quietly not even noticing that the heart was a locket. You open it and feel your heart melt at the tiny pictures displayed. The first picture is a selfie that you and robin took while you were at a pumpkin patch and the second picture was your favorite picture of robin. You took it while she was in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke Steve told her. She has a light-colored button-up opened, showing off the graphic t-shirt got for her, and she has her favorite hat on backward.

“I figured you'd like those pictures the best. I put mine at the end so that way I can be closest to your heart or whatever.”

You pout at her and pinch her already red cheeks.

“Awe, you like me.”

She whacks your hand away from her face only to hold it in hers when you let go of her warm cheek.

“Shut up, I love you…bitch.” she said with a giggle while mocking her newest favorite character.

“Don't call me that.”

“Yes ma'am.”

You giggle at her reaction and then around so that your back is facing her.

“Can you help me put it on?”

Robin nods her head and sticks her hand out silently asking for the necklace. When she feels the cool material in the palm of her hand she's quick to open the clasp and put the necklace on around your neck. When she mutters that she's done you feel your smile get wide and gently hold the locket in your hand.

“I love it. Thank you, baby.” you mumble while leaning back to give her a kiss.

She smiles into the kiss, letting out a whine when you pull away. You stand up from your seat and turn around to face her.

“C’mon, let's watch breaking bad.”

“Hell yeah! Science bitch!"

taglist <3

@cityofidek @spideyjass @simpingoverfictionalppl

[lamnwar]

I Can't Remember // KNB Characters x gn! Reader

A/N: it ain't me if I'm not writing fanfic based on my irl experiences bc I'm that one bitch that's always daydreaming, even when she's supposed to be socializing 😩

Context: A long awaited weekend on the beach with your friends finally comes... and there isn't much of it that you can remember. All characters are aged up for plot purposes (early 20s)

Pairing: there's just a bunch of character there so no real pairing, slight Aomine x reader and Kiyoshi x reader tho I really couldn't help myself

Warnings: mention of alcohol, heavy drinking, some flirting here and there, language, 3.6k words because I got inspired lmao but overwise it's just crack 🤭

You open the fridge, hoping with all of your heart that what you've been looking for is here, and to your enjoyment, a last bottle of beer stands in between a block of cheese and yesterday's pasta. You hum, before going outside. As the sunrays hit your face, you squint, the light appearing particularly bright this morning. You finally sit on the small wall between the beach house and the sea, when your eyes have adjusted to the daylight.

“Yo” you hear a voice behind you.

You take a sip before turning around. The blue-haired boy stands nonchalantly against the door frame, looking as if he just came back from a ten days journey in the desert.

“Hey” you reply, voice raspy.

He sits next to you, and you both remain silent for a while, the only noises being the gentle waves, and the very subtle fizz of your drink.

“You look rough” lets out the man.

“Same to you.”

You both laugh. You do, indeed, look terrible. Hair going in all directions, dark circles under your eyes, dry lips and that weird tint on your skin. As for Aomine, it's roughly the same, but he still has his usual charm, even while looking like this.

“Haven't you had enough last night?” He asks while tapping your bottle with the tip of his finger.

“It's the cure to a hangover. This, and dumplings.”

“Give me some then.”

You pass the bottle to him, hands cupping your face as you pull your knees to your chest. You don't have a headache, thank god, and you're pretty sure that you haven't puked, but god are you tired. The thing is, you have no idea when you fell asleep, you just know that you woke up this morning, with Riko's hand on your face and one of your shoes missing.

The rest of the night? A total blur. You have very vague images, but remembering them is as hard as remembering a dream you had ten years ago. You haven't checked your phone, you don't know where it is. Hopefully, somewhere in the house. You better find it soon; beside the fact that you rely on it to function, it's also Sunday and your parents will certainly call tonight as they usually do on Sundays. And this time, when they'll ask you how was your weekend, well... Well, you'd surely have stories to tell, if you'd remember any.

“Daiki, do you remember last night?”

He raises an eyebrow at you, amused by the question. You land a friendly slap on his shoulder – he shouldn't be making fun of you, for all you know, he's probably as bad as you.

“Some stuff. You challenged me to a shot competition, and I won, and then you said that I cheated.”

“You probably did” you scoff, earning a nudge in the shoulder from him.

You sigh. The sky is as clearer as ever, but you can't say that much about your mind. Usually filling the role of the smart one, the one who has an answer to anything – basically being a walking version of Google – it's weird for you to be missing some information. At the same time, you don't want to blame yourself. It has been a rough semester, and you've desperately needed to let off some steam.

“Shouldn't we do something about this blackout?”

Your friend raises his shoulder.

“We'll see it all in the pictures and videos.”

“I lost my phone dude, I have no idea what I've done last night.”

You chuckle, taking a sip of your beer. It amuses you, to a certain extent, the idea that you've been totally unhinged last night. It only makes sense, you figure; you've had your first drink at 3PM, you haven't stopped from that point on. To be fair, you were pretty thirsty after the drive from your apartment to the beach house. In the early summer heat, you were packed in a car with Riko, her boyfriend Junpei, and his roommate Teppei. Sitting at the back between bags and the giant body of Teppei, it only made sense that you required a fresh beer once you’ve arrived. This might be the last time that you’ve had a clear mind, remembering what you’ve been up to.

“I’ve left mine on the couch I think, should we take a look?”

You look up to him, raising your eyebrows. For all you know, the secrets of last night might all be in his phone. Gathering the little energy that you have left, you get up from your seat on the wall, getting back inside. You squint your eyes; you haven’t realized how bright it was outside. The living room is a mess, not as much as you’d expected it to be, though. A couple of glasses are laying around here and there, and you don’t fail to notice to bottles aligned against the wall, witnessing of the wildness of last night. And you obviously cannot ignore the large body of Taiga, passed out on the couch with his shirt opened. You chuckle softly, nudging the blue-haired boy next to you in the ribs so he’ll look at your common friend.

“Shit, he looks rough” he scoffs.

You nod in approval. Deep inside, it feels reassuring to know that you aren’t the only one who has been slightly overboard, and the idea of someone sharing your blackout is rather comforting. You advance towards the sleeping boy, bending in front of me. Despite only half of his body fitting on the couch, he looks comfortable, in deep slumber and you hesitate to wake him up. Yet, you have to, in order to retrieve Daiki’s phone. Granted, you can also wait for the others to be up and question them so you can piece out your misadventures of last night; but you are impatient, and before anything else, you cannot stand being in a blur for much longer. So you take in a long breath, hand slowly poking at Kagami’s cheek.

“Hey big boy” you mutter softly.

He groans, but doesn’t budge. Your hand trails to his shoulder, that you shake lightly. Again, no response.

“You’re being too delicate, shake the motherfucker up” Daiki sighs.

“I don’t wanna be too violent” you pout.

He rolls his eyes, and before you know it, he pushes you aside, his big hand lightly slapping your friend’s cheek.

“Oi, wakey wakey.”

The red-haired boy finally opens his eyes – with much struggle – facing the bored eyes of Daiki. He grunts, taking a moment to fully awaken. For a couple of second, he feels like he comes back from the dead, and reality sinks in at a painfully slow pace. When he finally gathers his surroundings, he lays his eyes on you.

“Sup?” he greats, voice husky.

You smile. He really is in a worse state than yours.

“Feeling like shit. Sorry to wake you up Taiga, but you’re sleeping on Dai’s phone.”

He moves, propping himself up in a sitting position. You’ve never witnessed the basketball player moving so slowly before: in a sloth-like demeanour, he rubs his face and stretches his limbs, before lifting the pillows, looking for the phone. And when he finally does, discovering it in the folds of the couch, he sighs, giving it back to its owner. Daiki shoots him an irritated glance; though he doesn’t say a word, you can read his thoughts clearly on his face. The fact that Taiga’s spent the night sleeping on his phone is enough to annoy him, but maybe somewhere inside him he restrains from making a fuss because none of you are in the state to stand an insignificant quarrel. It takes a few seconds for him to check his battery, then his notifications, before he opens the gallery. You look at him, impatiently waiting.

“Let’s sit” he finally says.

And you do so, joining Kagami on the couch as the blue-haired boy sits between you, ready to show the content of his screen. The first picture is a normal group selfie. Daiki, Satsuki, and Tetsuya, smiling as they hold their cups. It’s cute, but nothing that leads you to retrace your adventures of last night. He scrolls through a bunch of other pictures of that sort, amongst some blurry shots of random moments. Then he stops at a video, exchanging a look with you before pressing on play.

“Whose phone is that? Anyways, look… oh wait, this angle isn’t doing me any good – “

Aomine puts the video on pause, swearing under his beard as he sees the familiar face of the group’s absolute party guy. Kise Ryōta. It’s probably the hangover, but hearing his cheerful voice clearly puts Daiki in a mood, and for a second there, he is tempted to delete the video, so he doesn't have to suffer through it. But the second he lays his eyes on you, he reminds himself of the reason why he absolutely wanted to retrieve his phone in the first place. So he plays the rest, just for your sake. You all stay in silence as you watch the blond change the angle to make him appear under his best light, shooting one of his typical smiles at the camera.

“Looks like there’s romance in the air…”

He chuckles, before zooming behind him. In the darkness of the night, it’s hard to tell what is going on, but you manage to distinguish two bodies standing close on the sand. The video then stops there. What they are doing is unclear, but you recognize the outfits; one being Kiyoshi’s and the other one being yours.

Your eyes open wide. You obviously have no recollection of that part of the night, and you fear what you may have done. It’s not unusual for you to get flirty when drunk, and you have to admit that you’ve always had the sweetest crush on the tall brunette. But it deeply bothers you that you cannot tell what this interaction was about, and what happened after.

“Wow, so you and Teppei, huh?” Kagami lets out.

You groan, rubbing your eyes.

“I have no fucking idea what’s going on there” you complain. “For all I know, it’s nothing… but it might be something too.”

You sink further in the couch, trying to figure out how to sort this out. Unfortunately, your mind is too much in a fog for you to solve your problem, and it takes Daiki scrolling through the pictures again for you to come back to Earth. After some shots of what seems to be a round of drinking games and some weird dancing, your attention is caught by a series of pictures that includes you, in your swimsuit, in the darkness of the night, going for a swim.

“Ah, see, this is what I like” comments Daiki.

“What do you mean?”

“Love to see the little nerd of our group going for a midnight swim. Granted, you’re unfortunately not butt ass naked, but still.”

He laughs, scrolling through more pictures of you in the pitch-black ocean, with the widest grin on your face. And suddenly, you feel some memories rushing back. The feeling of the cool water against your bare skin, the sound of your friends cheering you for going in the water, the splashes of the waves, the smell of the ocean. You sit back for a minute, reconstituting this part of the night in your mind. You remember, talking about a midnight swim with Riko. She said that she’d never done that, and neither did you, given that you’ve never been on the seashore at night before. You remember, pouring some alcohol in your glass while you considered giving it a try. You’ve downed your glass before changing in your swimsuit, and rushing outside in the cool summer night.

“Where the fuck was I when all this happened?” asks the red-haired boy in a state of complete loss.

You furrow your brows, zooming in on one of the pictures, then increasing the brightness of the screen.

“Here you are dummy, right there” points Daiki.

And indeed, it seems that you weren’t alone in your midnight swim. You chuckle lightly, seeing Kagami’s giant body being engulfed by waves, some bits of that moments reappearing to you at the same time. You remember, the tall boy as wasted as you, running towards the waves, stumbling in the sand first before getting up and giggling like a child. You smile at yourself as these memories come; somehow, it is reassuring to know that you’ve done nothing too embarrassing last night. Although, there is still that interaction with Teppei that remains a mystery. God knows what you’ve been doing with him, and for your own sake, you pray it was yet another moment of senseless words and laughs, like the rest of the night seemed to be. You stretch, relieved at your discovery. Sure, the whole night isn’t documented in Daiki’s phone, and your own phone as well as one of your shoes is still missing, but so far, it doesn’t seem as bad as you’ve imagined.

“Good morning kids.”

The three of you jump hearing a new voice, and you eye up to see Kasamatsu standing in front of you, in what looks like a jogging attire. By the coat of sweat on his arms and the earphones dangling around his neck, he indeed looks like he’s just came back from a run, and you can’t help but sending him a confused look. How the hell is he in a good enough shape to go for a run after last night?

“You fucking freak” Aomine shoots a gaze as incredulous as yours to the guy.

Kasamatsu shakes the comment away, going to the open kitchen to pour himself a large glass of water.

“Some of us only had a few drinks last night” he retorts with an amused smile.

It must, in fact, be hilarious to look at Aomine, Kagami and you at this very instant. In appearance, it looks like you’ve been through a lot – and a lot, you’ve indeed been through. And as you get lost in your blurred thoughts, you get a moment of clarity, realising that if you seek more information on your night, Kasamatsu may certainly hold all the knowledge you want. As fast as you can, you get up, rushing to him. Pleading eyes meet his intrigued blue irises, while he finishes his glass.

“You still remember last night, don’t you?”

“I do” he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Good, because I completely blacked out” you complain.

“And you want me to give you some clarity” he reads into your mind.

You positively nod, and he laughs before patting the top of your head. Like the rest of the friend group, Kasamatsu has always known you as the one person who always has everything under their control; you’re the one the rest comes to, looking for answers and some order. But if someone surpasses you when it comes to having their shit together, it must be Yukio. Excellent grades, an apartment that’s always properly organized and cleaned, a healthy social life, and always taking care of himself and the one he loves. It may not be surprising, all things considered, that he is the only sober one after last night's wildness. And it might also be endearing to him to see you like that, knowing that you’ve finally let loose.

“For the most part, you had fun” he starts. “Nothing too wild, if that’s what you’re wondering… except some of your dance moves with Daiki.”

“Huh?” the concerned raises up after hearing his name.

“Yeah, you two got a bit hot on some dancehall. Don’t you remember?”

Your eyes open wide as you look at your friend, barely recalling any of that. The single thought of you getting physically close to Daiki seems like an absurdity, but you also know that Yukio wouldn’t lie. A flash of fright crosses between you and the blue-haired boy, all while Taiga laughs at the situation. And it must be funny, from an external perspective. Everyone knows that Daiki and you are the kind of friends that always keep distance between them. Sure, you tease each other from time to time, but things never go further. Not that you’d want to – Daiki is at best a brother to you, nothing more.

“The things alcohol make people do” sighs Kagami, as if he’s in any position to talk.

You shake your head, when glimpses of this event comes back to you. The image of Aomine’s large hands on your waist appears to you, and for a second, you remember a whiff of his perfume. Red gains your cheeks, when more hazy images come to you. Hips swaying, barely any space between your two bodies, your fingers tangled in his short hair.

“Fuck, you’re kinda hot right now.”

“I know.”

As these words whispered between you resurface, you go back to worrying about stupid things you might have done last night. Just as you’ve finally reassured yourself that you’ve been overall a good kid, you had to be hit by these memories.

“To be fair, it shouldn’t matter if none of us remember any of it” says Daiki.

The issue is that you apparently remember some of it. But he may be right, you both have an alibi. Blame it on the liquor, none of it was done in all consciousness. It’s just dumb drunk people activity.

“Yeah, it doesn’t count” you say more for yourself than for him.

An awkward silence follows suit. If you were in such state that you’ve had a moment like this with Daiki, then maybe you might have done something of the same degree – or worse – with Kiyoshi. The worries that you’ve previously had come back, and you try to rack your brain up, looking for anything. Unfortunately, nothing comes. There is only one way for you to recover the truth, and that would be to ask Kiyoshi about it, with hope that he remembers it. But the possibility that you’ve done something in the slightest embarrassing stops you from doing so. How can you face him if you’ve been acting stupid with him?

But no, you should ask him. You cannot go back home leaving this mystery alive. You need to know, and as the adult you are, you’ll deal with the consequences of your actions in due time. You take in a big breath, gathering all your courage before going to the room where you believe you’ll find the giant brunette. You still remember that he’s left his bags in the bedroom next to the one you’ve been sleeping in. The three boys watch you, perplexed by your actions. The door opens in a silent creek, and you peak inside. The curtains are half closed, and taking all the single mattress, Teppei is laying there, on his phone. The bed next to his is unoccupied; it was supposed to be Hyuga’s but the latter was in the bed you were sharing with his girlfriend. Hearing you, he looks up, shooting you a tired but nice smile. Your heart flutters – you really hope that you’ve behaved yourself last night, because God, do you have a crush on the man.

“Hey there” he says.

You greet him back, closing the door behind you. You figure it’s easier to go straight to the point, so you sit on the empty bed, fiddling with your fingers.

“So, huh… I kinda don’t remember much of last night” you confess. “But apparently we’ve had a little interaction outside?”

“What? Oh, yeah. We had a nice moment outside.”

You nod, looking at him as he moves to face you. You only now notice that he is only in his underwear, which makes you blush furiously. He has no business to look like that when you’re trying to figure out if you’ve made a fool of yourself in front of him or not.

“Did we? I really can’t remember.”

He laughs.

“We did, had a nice talk about stuff. It was fun. Kinda sad that you don’t remember it though.”

“Yeah…”

“Is that all?”

You nod, feeling his gaze on you. A smile creeps on his lips, while he rests his head in his palm.

“You’re wondering if you’ve done or said anything embarrassing, don’t you?”

You sigh, an awkward laugh escaping your lips.

“Yeah, I can get quite… special, when I’m drunk.”

“Well, be assured, you were just the right kind of fun.”

And as these words reach you, you let out the breath you were holding. This morning has been a rollercoaster, as each information you’ve gathered from last night has sparked different reactions. But you feel light now that you’ve resolved the biggest mystery. It’s truly not as bad as you’ve envisioned; as a matter of fact, it isn’t bad at all. You’ve just been talking, nothing romantic there, so nothing to worry about. Maybe this whole fuss is to blame on Kise, he’s the one that framed you in a way that made it look like you were flirting with Kiyoshi or what not. You’ll maybe scold him later.

You shoot a last smile at the brunette before getting up, finally at peace.

“Well, if it was nothing, I’ll let you rest” you say as you go to grab the doorknob.

“Oh! If you don’t remember last night, is the date invitation still standing?”

And here it is, the thing you feared.

“The what?”

You may not remember last night, but there’s one thing that you’ll keep in mind forever, and that is that you will never drink as much as you did ever again.

[rebeccccccaaa]

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea. 

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job. 

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside. 

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in. 

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless. 

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief. 

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself. 

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically. 

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit. 

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was. 

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot. 

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening. 

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred. 

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit. 

“I can’t believe you,” you said. 

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought. 

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it. 

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum. 

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?” 

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms. 

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked. 

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone. 

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you. 

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled. 

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?” 

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment. 

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment. 

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room. 

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced. 

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly. 

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out. 

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit." 

"James," you whispered. 

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.  

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had. 

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt. 

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front. 

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you. 

Bucky fell in love. 

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material. 

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him. 

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly. 

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly. 

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly. 

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right. 

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon. 

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening. 

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal. 

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled. 

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times. 

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled. 

“Bucky,” you whined. 

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky. 

“I got you, darling. I got you.” 

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours. 

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew. 

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy. 

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted. 

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned. 

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled. 

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly. 

You like being choked by Bucky. 

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips. 

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again. 

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled. 

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum. 

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet. 

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body. 

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room. 

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away. 

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast. 

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him. 

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever. 

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled. 

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him. 

=======================

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