#i can barely do anything correctly

[voidcharms]

i kno i shouldnt hold my breath but i hope the average lib voter is at least beginning to realize that the dems and kamala harris' campaign Especially are ratcheting towards fascism + continuously conceding to right-wing framing on Multiple issues at this point

engage in lesser evil voting all you want but if the extent of your political participation is just showing up to the polls once every four years vote blue no matter whoing thru the primaries w no concern for differences in policy between two dem candidates bc "theyre both blue they cant be That different" then like. brother u got no place to be wokescolding leftists for just tryna ring the alarm bells idk

the prospect of another trump presidency Is terrifying thats not smth i'd ever deny, but the closer to nov 5th we get the more terrified i am of the long term, slowburn dmg kamala's presidency may bring. we're unfortunately pretty fucked either way at this point

[confines]

i did something incredible today. i was terse with my flakey cousin over the phone before fully understanding why i was angry with her. i acted on it BEFORE completely processing it. and i withheld information to put her at a disadvantage and benefit myself! i am so proud of myself, this never happens.

[izzy-b-hands]

finally broke into one of my new syringes (still have some old ones, but figured hey i should try them for this shot)

Tw for bitching abt medical shit/my injs below the cut

and i just. why is my doc intentionally making this harder. I ask for 3ml syringes bc it's what im used to and know how to draw up. She agreed to that, so i never checked my new ones bc why should i? she listened, she sent in for 3mls, right?

NOPE. fucking 1 ml which means figuring out the draw up has required online searching to make sure it's right, and bonus! everything I've found doesn't recommend it for T bc it's such a slow inj to begin with, and 'many feel it takes longer to inject in smaller syringes designed mainly for IV use, which lessens compliance with injection schedules in some'

And i hate how it looks. it looks like so much more, and i know that's stupid bc it isn't, it's the same amount as usual, but the sight of it is v much involved in me getting my injs done with my fear of needles. I know, again, I KNOW planned parenthood is dealing with not enough funding, hands on staff, etc, but does that really prevent you from listening to your patient and trying to help them with shit like this? bc i don't think it should. I'm still forever grateful they've been helping me keep my T going until I find a primary care doc, but at the same time...what the fuck? I said this would be an issue, and i need to stay with my usual supplies. If that was an issue for them, i was willing to buy syringes myself from the medical gear shop I've used for extra supplies before (that will ship out here, I've checked.) Why won't she just fucking. listen, and talk to me? if all she could do was 1 ml syringes, fine, BUT FUCKING TELL ME THAT BEFORE SO I CAN JUST BUY MY OWN

Like. I will get this done. ill use these crap syringes up bc I refuse to waste them.

But now I'm overly nervous and worried im gonna fuck it up with the new syringe, or that it will hurt more or take even longer to inject than usual, so my hands are too shaky to do it! im already a day late with it, and I'd bet ten bucks I wont be able to calm myself enough to do it until tomorrow. Yes, this is also autism bs of needing things the same but like. I've had to do a lot of adjusting since last year, and have made efforts to accept changes and sporadic things. it's been hard as fuck, but I've fucking done it. so why can't i have one fucking thing like this stay the same? just my inj supplies, that's it! I'll accept and deal with other changes but for fuck's sake, she KNOWS I'm nervous abt fucking up my injections (bc i always want them to go well so i get as much med in me as i can, with minimal tracking out after it), why the fuck wouldn't she at least tell me if she was limited in syringes/what she can rx?

Why don't docs listen when i talk, and why won't they just talk and be honest with me like a fucking adult. is that honestly so fucking difficult?

Apparently so 🙃

[ennuidays]

i actually cant do this

[rafeandonlyrafe]

normal procedure

words: 2.1k

warnings: 18+ only!!, dubcon, gynecologist!rafe, patient!reader, virgin!reader, gyno exam, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex

a/n: we can pretend that this is a roleplay scenario because obviously no real doctor would do this, lets all take a breath and remember this is fanFICTION aka not real or an endorsement by me (or my readers) of anything in this story

“oh, um-” you gulp, blinking as the fluorescent lights shine down on you.

“your feet ma’am.” he repeats, tapping the stirrups. you lift your legs, well aware that you're lacking any sort of underwear underneath your hospital gown.

your doctor secures your legs in the straps before his eyes drift to your center, now on display with your parted thighs.

you gasp and pull your gown down to somewhat cover yourself.

“ma’am, i assure you this is all part of the normal exam.”

“i-i-” you swallow thickly, blinking again, swearing the lights are only getting brighter, hotter, as a bead of sweat forms and falls on your forehead. “what's your name?”

“im doctor rafe cameron. certified gynecologist. you can just call me rafe though.” he explains softly. “and there is no need to be nervous.”

“okay… how long have you been a gynecologist?”

“asking all these questions is just going to delay what we need to get done.” rafe says. “shall we begin?”

“i suppose.” you nod. you know usually girls wait until after they have sex for the first time to visit, but with your twenty first birthday coming up as still a virgin, you decided you might as well stop delaying the inevitable.

“im just going to lift your gown.” rafes hands are slow and gentle as he brings the hem up, revealing your bare cunt to him.

“does it all… look okay?” you question. 

“you look perfect.” rafe says, his voice lowering in tone as he reaches for his gloves, pulling the latex over his long, slender fingers.

“okay.” you nod. surely a doctor would know. it lessens your anxiety the tiniest bit.

“im going to touch you now, okay?” rafe looks up at you, and his eye contact holds you still, blue eyes gleaming with intensity as they look into your brown ones.

“y/f/n?” 

“oh, yes.” you nod quickly. “yes, that's fine.”

rafe hums, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “so if i read your chart correctly, you haven't had sex yet?”

“no, s-sir.” you shake your head, eyes moving to the ceiling to avoid that captivating gaze, even if the fluorescents make your eyes hurt.

rafe mutters something under his breath, but you're sure your ears are just playing tricks on you. no way he would whisper “perfect” to himself. surely he's a professional.

rafe lays two fingers on your inner thigh and your entire body jolts, the gloves cold against your bare skin.

“it's okay.” rafes other hand rests on your thigh, rubbing gently with his thumb. “im going to begin the exam, if you feel any discomfort at any point just tell me.”

“okay.” you nod, and you swear despite the chilly gloves, his touch leaves a trail of fire as he brings his two fingers closer to your pussy, before suddenly swiping through your folds.

“oh!” you squeal out, hips lifting slightly before pushing back down.

“it's a normal bodily reaction.” rafe assures you before you can even feel embarrassment.

rafes fingers swipe through again, but at least you're expecting it this time. you blink quickly, trying to keep yourself calm as his other hand moves to join in examining your cunt.

“just going to use my thumbs to look around. let me know if it gets to be too much.”

just as rafe said, his thumbs begin to pull and poke at your skin. you move your gaze from the ceiling back down to rafe, seeing the same intensity in his eyes but now focused on your pussy.

“im going to touch you some place that may make you feel… fervent. please know that any reaction your body may have is normal and all part of the exam.” rafe places his thumb directly over your bud, and your body lights up like a firework.

you don't even realize you're moaning until the side of rafes mouth quirks up again into that signature smirk.

“oh!” you squeal again. “oh my god, im so sorry.”

“it's all normal.” rafe assures you. he gives you a moment to get used to the pressure on your clit, simply touching it with the pad of his thumb before he begins to swipe over it, stimulating your clit while his eyes move back and forth between your pussy and your face contorted in pleasure.

“is this supposed to feel so good?” you question. you didn't do much research on what actually happens when you get in the gynecologists chair, but you swear what you've heard from friends is that the exam isn't comfortable.

“yes.” rafe says simply, and you have no reason to not take his word as truth. “my thumb is going to stay there as i insert a finger.”

you nod, glad to have the distraction of his thumb moving around your clit, even if your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you grow wetter.

“hm, looks like i won't need any external lubricant.” rafe looks up at you. “sometimes i have to with virgins. but your pussy is perfect.”

“thank you?” your thought process is quickly shut off as rafes finger prods at your entrance, getting his gloves significantly wet.

“sorry if this is cold, but i have a feeling you'll warm me up quickly.” rafe pushes his finger inside slowly, and you have to tilt your head back and squeeze your eyes closed to keep more sounds from coming out of your mouth.

“does it all feel normal?” you're well aware at your voice must sound strained as rafes finger rubs against your inner walls.

“yes.” rafe says, this time his voice having an air of shakiness to it. “you're tight, but it's to be expected from a virgin.”

“s-sorry about that.” you can't tell if rafes emphasis on the word is negative or positive. “i didn't see myself losing it anytime soon so i scheduled my appointment.”

“and why is that darling?” rafe questions, his voice a purr as he begins to move his finger in and out in slow strokes.

“why am i a virgin? uhh…” you trail off. “i guess just haven't found the right guy yet.”

in truth, the whole idea of sex gets you nervous. hopefully after getting assurances that everything works okay down there, it'll be one less thing to be anxious about.

“we can take care of that today if you'd like.”

the thumb stroking over your clit flicks upward suddenly, making your hips jump up, legs straining in their spread position.

“what do you mean?” you ask, feeling and hearing rafes finger speed up, your slickness making it easier and easier for him to move.

“i can take your virginity. it's part of my duties as your doctor. only if you'd like, it's an optional part of the exam.”

“you mean like… insert something in me?”

“yes, my cock.” rafe smirks as he pulls his finger out, tapping against your wetness and letting the sound spread through the exam room.

“oh!” you look at rafe to make sure he's serious, but his expression doesn't convey any sort of joking around. “gynecologists do that?”

“for our virgin patients if they'd like. id wear a condom of course and take your virginity so it's less of an ordeal for you. and i can assure everything is working fine.”

“and by everything you mean…”

“making you cum.” rafes thumb applies a bit more pressure to your clit. “although you're already not far off, are you?”

“wouldn't know.” you can feel something growing in the pit of your stomach, an unfamiliar feeling you can't quite place.

“what do you say y/f/n?”

“s-sure.” you nod. “if this is all normal, i guess it's fine.”

“great.” rafe smiles, before looking down at your cunt. “ill have to work two fingers into you before fu- helping you lose your virginity.” he explains.

thankfully, his thumb keeps tapping and pressing down on your sensitive bud as a second finger lathers itself in your wetness, sliding through your folds before dipping into your cunt.

his finger are barely an inch inside before they're back out. “you'll have to excuse me for going one handed for a second.”

rafes thumb moves away from your clit, and you're about to cry out for more, immediately missing the feeling, when rafes mouth drops and his tongue takes its place.

“doctor!” you shout.

“all normal.” rafe assures you, his lips already shining with your juices. “taste is an important part of the exam too. and you're very sweet.”

you watch as rafes head dips again, his mouth working on your cunt as his two fingers that you hadn't even realized have been pushed inside of you begin to move.

rafes free hand reaches for his pants, pushing them down to get his already hard cock out. he begins to stroke as his tongue licks at your clit, fingers opening you up.

you feel another jolt of pressure when his fingers spread to scissor and close, scissor and close, working your gummy walls open for him.

rafe presses a series of wet, sloppy kisses over your cunt before restraining himself and pulling back, licking greedily over his lips to not waste your taste.

“are you ready?” rafe asks, reaching into a drawer to get a condom.

“yes.” you nod quickly. you're more than desperate now for his cock, especially as his fingers slide out and leave you empty to squeeze around nothing.

rafe stands up, bringing his cock up into your sight line. your eyes widen when you see he's much longer and thicker than his two fingers that were already a tight fit inside you.

“don't worry.” rafe says as he tears the foil of the condom before getting the rubber out and rolling it down his length. “im gonna take good care of you.”

your hips already sit at perfect height as rafe steps between your legs. you would close them out of shyness if it was at all possible.

rafe taps his tip over your clit, making you moan out, but you don't bother to hold back, not when rafe lets out a moan as well.

“the room is completely noise proof, and sounds are nothing to be embarrassed by.” rafe assures you as he rubs his cock against your pussy, thoroughly wetting himself before pushing against your entrance.

it's a slow push to break the ring of muscle, and then an easy slide once he's in.

“h-holy shit.” you whine out, hands gripping the side of the bed as rafes hips immediately begin to swing in and out.

“any pain?”

“none.” you answer quickly. there's no hiding the intense pleasure being brought to your body, especially when rafes thumb retakes its place on your clit.

“there ya go.” rafe smiles as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock. “i can tell you're getting close.”

rafe glances at the clock, wishing he could fuck you for longer, but if he extends the time for the exam too long the nurses will surely get suspicious.

“how does it f-ffffffff-” your ability to speak briefly lapses when rafes thrust speed up. “feel for you?” you manage to complete your sentence.

“your pussy feels amazing. you're so tight and warm. any guy would be lucky to be inside of you.” rafe says, his hips moving faster, desperate to cum. “perfect.”

you are practically glowing underneath the praise and impending orgasm, rafes thumb moving faster with real purpose now.

your head tips back and before you know it, a wash of light and pleasure has taken over your body, and you're moaning and twitching as what you're certain is your high breaks.

“that's it.” rafe smiles, feeling your pussy flutter around him, clit pulsing with the strength of your orgasm as he thrusts harder into your pussy, putting all his might into helping you ride out your orgasm and spur on his own.

rafe lodges his cock as deep inside of you as he can as he cums, briefly cursing the barrier of the condom from preventing himself from flooding your womb.

“very- good.” rafe pants, pulling out extra slow despite the clock ticking down, watching as your hole squeezes back tight as he pulls out.

rafe discards the condom and then his soaked gloves, sticky with your wetness before tucking himself back into his pants.

“take all the time you need.” rafe undoes the stirrups and let's your legs flop down. “ill come check on you in five minutes, i need to see if my other patient is here.”

and just as quickly as he entered, rafe leaves the room, leaving you with your pussy a sloppy mess and heart beating fast.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

you always knew marble hornets is good b/c fr from 2010 on the Many fans &/or the particularly Enthused &/or Dedicated &/or Lasting fans was noticeably to us all like hmm tending to be many people who are big fans of aLex Guy from the tunnel rip Brian Tim Questions Investigations Answers....i presume it still skews that way. i.e. Tastehavers i.e. Marble Hornets Is Good b/c it can resonate with queer experiences unlike horror that straight people are like "Hell Yeah truly this is good" about, which is a waste of everything

[muqingslover]

Ok, so... this might be a bit of a +18 think piece, but... what do you think the lads men would have as their top 3 kinks? I started thinking about it after I read the Xavier somno one, lol. Maybe I'm crazy but I think Caleb would have blindfolds/rope play in his top 3 (on mc not on him, since he wants to see all of you but is very resultant to show all of himself back due to fear of rejection+ if mc is tied up she can't leave)

[ choosing only three was a lot harder than I thought whew. Also, I'm testing out different layouts rn so don't mind me (⁠^⁠～⁠^⁠;⁠)⁠ゞ]

Predator/Prey Play: This guy is the literal definition of wolf in sheep's clothing. What gets him going is the thrill of the hunt and the turntables (his specialty), which is why he will often let you think you're in control and have your fun teasing him only to then pounce when you least expect. If you run from him then you better pray he won't catch you or not.

Exhibitionism: This might be a hot take but walk with me. Xavier is a very jealous man so he won't ever allow anyone to actually see you, buuuut he is very into letting others know you belong to him. You gotta leave for a mission with someone else? Not to worry, all he needs is 10 minutes in the bathroom stall. The bread guy is back at it again? It can't be helped, he'll just have to fuck against the door while he's knocking to show you're busy. He'd love to see you struggling (and failing) to keep your voice down and looks like a smug cat when others notice the marks he left on you.

Cunnilingus: This man eats pussy like a goddamn champ. He absolutely adores having your thighs wrapped around his head, to the point he finds it comforting, and the feeling of his tongue stretching open your dripping pussy for his cock later. Your taste is something he could have every day, which he will if you let him, and he takes pride when you're left a writhing, whimpering mess that begs for him to fuck you.

Bondage: The joke about him tying MC up with surgical knots was definitely not a joke. In my opinion, rather than the power rush over the control he has over you, what really gets him off is the trust you put in his hands. Bondage is all about having faith in your partner to never truly hurt you and knowing you see him that way makes him feel beyond special. Given the chance he'd love to have you wrapped in dark blue, silky ribbons and the aftercare is top tier with this guy.

Lingerie: For some reason I feel like Zayne is REALLY into seeing you wearing lingerie. Ladies, feel free to tease him by telling him you're wearing one, but not letting him see until he's home much later. He'll spend the entire day imagining what type of lace you have under your clothes and he pretty please asks you to strip for him as a reward for waiting.

Phone Sex: Another one I just have a feeling it's his thing. I mean, he is a busy man and sometimes it can't be helped, people have needs yk. He'd like the feeling of knowing you think of him as much as he does of you when the other is not around. The photos you send and the sounds of your needy whines right next to his ear goes straight to his cock and he is mortified when the post-nut clarity hits him and he realizes what he did in his own office.

Overstimulation: I'm an overly sensitive Caleb truther. The overstimulation has his head spinning so good that he can barely form a coherent thought that isn't your name while he slams into your pussy for the nth time like a desperate man. He doesn't want to simply break you he wants to break together, to the point neither of you can think about anything else besides how good it feels.

Roleplaying: I've lost count of the amount of times we've seen him and MC roleplaying and this man will unironically take it to the bedroom. It starts as a joke where he's only doing it to make you laugh, but then he won't allow you to break character and will edge you until you say your "lines" correctly. Forceful and cold soldier? Check. Teasing and pervy Gege? of course. A loving and gentle husband? Sign him up. Strict teacher? No need to ask twice.

Brat Taming: Now defying Caleb is the equivalent of waving a red flag in front of a bull and you better run because when he catches you you're done for. He needs you to need him as much as he needs you and if he has to break you for you to admit it then he will. The rush of being the one in charge and "taking care" of you in a way no one else will is enough to have his cock throbbing.

Breeding AND Biting: These two go hand in hand every time you have sex with him. He craves to have a family with you but, more than anything, he wants you to be as full of him as his heart is of you. He wants you to be so filled with his cum that he has to keep his cock inside otherwise it'll leak out of you. He absolutely enjoys the slippery mess your warm insides become when he rocks his hips into you, slowly but deep, pushing his cum even further into your womb and hoping you'll get pregnant.

Body Worship: I've said it once and I'll say it again: Sylus is a lover boy! ! ! Each kiss on your skin is an offering, a promise and a worship. He wants to know the parts of your body not even you do and give you the love you deserve. The praises he whispers against your body are similar to a prayer and he could spend years exploring every inch of you without ever getting tired. You're the very reason for his existence and any less is just unacceptable.

Size: This guy is not only big but he's also very large. He is a softie who likes to tease you about how small you are compared to him while he holds your hand and pretends he doesn't hear your complaints about him suffocating you after the draped his heavy body over yours. That feeling of satisfaction extends when he has to gently coo you and kiss your tears away while he's spreading your little hole open. He can't help the fangy grin on his lips when he feels his cock bulge on your tummy and he holds your hand over the spot so you feel how deep he is inside of you as well.

Rough Sex: Another controversial take but I feel like he's a secret sadist just not the extreme type. Man can flip his demeanor from "harmless babyboy" to intimidating sea god in a split second who knows what else he's hiding under that purple wig. He'll keep an almost cold demeanor while he coaxes whimpers out of you in the best way and a wicked smirk spreads across his face at the sight of your tears, spurring him on until he's completely broken you.

Food Play: That's definitely one way to make sure he actually eats. Having you be his meal will make him hungry like never before and oh he absolutely will feast (this may or may not be a reference to this). He makes a point of not using his hands while licking along your skin, tasting the sweet chocolate before he left a purple mark on your thighs. Oh, this goes both ways so please pour wine on him and lick him clean ;)

Body Painting: I forgot if there's an actual English term for this but Rafayel would love to draw on your skin and watch you squirm each time the soft, wet brush went over your perked up nipples. He'd scold you when you move because you're making him smudge the lines and holds you in place with his free hand, warning you to stop or he'll take "extreme measures" to make you keep still. You are the only one he'd ever dare to call a masterpiece.

[mariasont]

One Clean Shot - A.H

summary: it’s a standard training session, until hotch steps behind you to adjust your stance and suddenly your biggest problem isn’t your aim pairings: aaron hotchner x sweetheart!reader warning tags: suggestive content, hotch accidentally touches your tits, r shooting a gun, hotch shooting a gun, r kinda objectifying hotch (i showed my friends then we high fived), dbf!hotch, age gap wc 1.6k

"Oh, for the love of —"

You bite down on the words, trapping them before they can tumble out as something truly impolite. You fire. Left. Again. Another shot. Too high. Again. Too wide.

The gun jerks in your hand, unforgiving and indifferent. Gunpowder starts to scratch at your throat, your lungs, your patience even. You were starting to believe that it was a possibility that you were just inherently biologically incapable of aiming correctly. Bad aim genes, perhaps.

You try to picture your father holding a gun, arms stiff, stance awkward, probably muttering something about how in his day, disputes were settled with a well-worded legal argument.

Yeah, okay, that might explain a lot.

Except no, you passed all your quals. You aced them.

It was just an off day.

A specific, very tall off day named Hotch, who was currently standing behind you, radiating silent judgement at a level so intense it should be considered a supernatural ability. He was probably analyzing every micro-movement, taking note of every error, mentally drafting a performance review that would start with you're doing fine and end with a perfectly professional but somehow soul-crushing but you can do better.

You try to steady your hands and you fail and you think maybe you should just hand him the gun and let him execute your dignity at point-blank range.

It's fine, you tell yourself. It's not like your entire self-worth is balancing on the edge of his nonexistent expression. There's a chance he's not even thinking about you. He could be mentally going over his grocery list or calculating how much paperwork he had left to do today.

Or there's the more terrifying chance that he is watching you and wondering why you aren't better, why you aren't like him — like your father, wondering why you aren't meeting expectations.

And it's humiliating, really. How much you want to impress him. How much you want to make him proud and maybe even—

"You're anticipating the recoil."

You turn too fast, the world tilting for just a second, your vision narrowing to the sharp angles of Hotch's face.

"Here."

The word is barely out of his mouth before his hands are everywhere, no, not everywhere, everywhere, just your vest. But they might as well be, because your nerve endings aren't capable of knowing the difference.

He grips your vest at the shoulders, jerks the straps tight, a firm pull that rocks you just slightly forward, just slightly into him. Then his fingers skate down, adjusting the collar, smoothing over the bare skin where fabric meets flesh, his knuckles barely grazing the dip between your collarbones.

And then lower. Over your chest. Between. The back of his hand ghosts along the swell of your breasts, then right where your ribs curve inward, where his palm would fit if he just, just, slid an inch lower.

It's fast. Nothing. Over in a second. But your stomach is tight, your breath is tight, you are tight. And you swear if he lingers a moment longer, you might melt into a indecipherable puddle on the floor.

Your pulse is all over the place, skipping, tripping, betraying. Heat rushes to your cheeks, slow at first, then all at once, like a delayed newsflash that your body apparently has opinions about this.

Because this is stupid. Stupid. It's not like he meant to touch you there. It's not like he noticed. Did he notice?

No, absolutely not because that would imply things, and there are not things.

This is just your problem. Your rogue nervous system. Your tragic inability to be normal about anything. You are making this a thing when it is very much not a thing.

But you felt the way your stomach knots around something you don't even have the vocabulary to name, the way your nipples pebbled like they had some vested interest in ruining your life.

It's — what? Hormones? Static electricity? Some kind of spontaneous full-body malfunction? Because you didn't want to think about it being him, a side effect to prolonged exposure to Aaron Hotchner. (Should you warn the others?)

And still, he keeps going, cinching straps, flattening fabric, all broad (very broad) hands and no-nonsense efficiency. Like you're just a piece of gear to fix. You, on the other hand, are actively considering the logistics of just dropping dead on the spot. It seemed feasible.

"Shoulders back."

The instruction comes at the same time as he moves in behind you, a hand landing between your shoulder blades, and pushes, forces your spine straighter, like you're something to be molded, adjusted, put into place.

Then his hands moves to your waist, shifting your stance just a hair, just enough to make you brutally of the size of his hands. How they fit against you.

Then, oh. His foot nudges between yours, then hooks your ankle, kicking your stance wider.

His palm finds the space between your shoulder blades again, pressing down just enough to remind you where you are, who you are, what you're supposed to be doing instead of, well, whatever this is.

"Breathe."

Oh. Right. Breathing. That's a thing.

You suck in a sharp breath, only now realizing you'd been holding it captive in your chest.

"A lot of people hold their breath when they shoot," he explains, his other hand pressing into your ribs as if to make sure you were following his instructions, as if you'd do anything else. "It feels instinctual, like bracing will make you more controlled. But if you hold your breath, you lock up. Tension works against you. Breathing through the shot keeps everything loose. It makes the release smoother."

You weren't sure when everything became so hot, pressing in from all sides. But you felt like you might be sweating because no one should be allowed to say things like that, in a voice like his, with hands like his, and with zero self-awareness of what words like release can do to a person in your position.

You try to focus, to take another breath, but even that feels like a trap, because you are suddenly mortifying aware of the way your chest rises, of the heat dissipating between you, of how close he is.

His arms come to frame yours, surrounding in a way that makes everything else feel smaller. His hands go over yours, his chest is against your shoulder, his forearm skimming yours, and his breath is now tickling your ear.

"Your thumbs need to be higher," he says, adjusting them with his own, the rough pad of his finger dragging along the side of your hand. "You're gripping too far down, which throws off your alignment. Keep them forward, parallel with the slide. It'll help keep the recoil controlled, make your follow up shot faster."

His fingers tighten over yours, making sure you feel it. "And support your hand, it's doing too much. The pressure should be between both hands. If you squeeze harder with one than the other, you'll pull your shot without realizing it."

You nod, because you always nod when he speaks. Because you listen. Because learning from him is something you like, something that makes you feel good, something that makes you feel seen. And maybe that's why your hands are shaking.

He steps back and it's immediate, the rush of air, the space, the clarity that surely wasn't there before. Your chest expands, lungs finally taking what they were denied.

"Try again."

You exhale, reposition, adjust your stance the way he taught you. His instructions replay in your head, and you obey, thumbs high, pressure even, breathing.

You fire. And it's improved, smoother, more controlled, exactly like he said.

"That's it. Better."

You smoother the feeling those two words give you, shove in into the pit of your stomach where it can't cause problems. Where it can't mean anything. You're pathetic.

"Watch."

He steps in, you step back.

You try to focus on the technical aspects, really, you do. On how he grips the gun, on how his fingers rest perfectly in place, on how his stance is exactly what he just told you to correct. But your brain is completely uncooperative.

Your brain apparently has priorities, and right now, those priorities are his arms, the way his muscles shift beneath tight sleeves, the flex of his shoulders as he raises said gun.

And then lower, corruptfully lower, to the curve of his waist, where the fabric of his shirt strains, the way his belt rests just above the curve of his —

Absolutely not.

You blink hard, inhaling sharp, mentally shoving that thought into a vault labeled inappropriate. Do not open. The worst part, however, is that you can't tell if you're more mortified by the fact that your brain went there, or by the fact that, now that is has, you're not sure how to get it to stop.

"Focus."

Your mouth opens, then closes. "I — I am."

He doesn't look at you. Not once. But the way he reloads, it's like he's giving you time to wallow in the moment. And there's something, something, in the slight pull of his mouth, in the tiniest shift of his expression that's almost, but not quite, a smirk.

"Not on the right things."

His fires. One clean shot. Straight to the heart.

The paper doesn't resist, it just takes it, the force ripping clean through the center, leaning nothing but a perfect, gaping wound. It was precise in a way that shouldn't be surprising but still is.

It's a clean shot through something inside of you, too.

And you have no idea how to patch it up.

taglist has been disbanned! if you want to get updates about my writings follow and turn notifications on for my account strictly for reblogging my works! @mariasreblogs

[vettelsvee]

Hi, I love your writing, idk if your requests are open so I will send a request anyway, but no pressure to do it ofc. I have a request: could you maybe write something like reader is the passenger princess and like even though she has a drivers lincense (or not) he won’t let her drive or give up her seat as passenger princess, or just being overly overprotective, of course only if your comfortable and want to write this. I would like Max Verstappen/Charles Leclere/Oscar Piastri (but it’s your choice Ofc, write with whom your comfortable or want). No pressure to write it it’s just a thought.

Thanks xoxo

-🐨

THE PASSENGER PRINCESS CHRONICLES

⋆ INCLUDES: Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc ⋆ SUMMARY: Different situations on why they don't let you be their passenger princess even you insist them on giving you a chance! ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Hope you like it anon, couldn't choose one! 🐨💖 ⋆ WARNINGS: Curse words, dangers on the road ⋆ WORD COUNT: 2726 ⋆ VEE'S NOTES: Today’s fic draft got deleted and I panicked BUT wrote this instead for anon 🥰 This is my first time ever doing this thing of x drivers in different situations and I really liked it, so tell me if you liked it so I get to do more in the future! Remember you can comment, request, like and reblog if you like my works! Thanks for reading <3 ↳ LET'S TALK/REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

₊˚・₊✧ OSCAR PIASTRI

"Could you buckle up properly, please?"

Oscar kept glancing between the road and you, clearly trying to get your attention because it was more than obvious you hadn’t listened to him. Playing innocent, you turned to him with an even more serious face than his, as if you hadn’t done anything wrong.

"You’ve got it under your arm,” he spoke again. “This isn’t a teen movie, you know… The way you’re wearing it doesn’t count."

"But I look cute tho," you replied, widening your smile, fully aware that was one of his weaknesses.

Oscar sighed, though he couldn’t help chuckling.

"I swear, one of these days you're going to give me a heart attack..."

"Nothing's going to happen. You’re a Formula 1 driver. I’m pretty sure that gives you more adrenaline than me not wearing a seatbelt properly."

"And I’m pretty sure the heart attack will come the day you get launched through the windshield because buckling up doesn’t go with your so-called aesthetic."

You let out a dramatic sigh. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point, and the last thing you wanted was to argue with him over something like this. 

Once you finally clicked the seatbelt in correctly, he gave your knee a gentle squeeze.

"Happy now?"

"Yeah, normal," he replied in a teasing tone. "Though I’ll be truly happy the day you stop asking and begging me to let you drive."

You turned to him slowly. This conversation had come up more than once, and for a good reason. If one word described you behind the wheel, it was hazardous.

"You do remember I’ve had my license for four years, right?"

"Yes. And you also thought last week the gas pedal was the brake," Oscar shot back.

"It happened just once in four years! And only because you were stressing the hell out of me with the GPS!" you complained, swatting his arm.

"Another time you thought the car was in first gear, and it was reverse. Remember how my mom reacted when you broke her favorite flowerpot?"

You giggled, remembering Nicole’s reaction. She had every right to be mad, especially since she initially thought Oscar was responsible. But the moment you confessed it had been you, she softened and said it was fine. Even she offered to go buy a new one with you.

"Okay, fine, but… why do you always have to drive? I know I’m a mess, but you’re not perfect either! Half the time you’re barely awake!"

"Because I love you. That’s why," Oscar said immediately. You looked at him, knowing that wasn’t the whole story. "And because letting you drive is like handing a toddler a knife," he added.

"Excuse me?!"

Oscar took advantage of a red light to lean over and kiss your cheek quickly.

"Just being honest, princess."

You crossed your arms and pouted dramatically, playing along.

"Well, let me tell you something: if I had been a boy and started karting young, I could’ve been a driver too. And I’ll be challenging you, and probably be even better than you, and…"

"Babe, you can’t even park in parallel. Not to mention you always take forever to find a parking spot because you need every car in a five-meter radius to disappear."

"Parking in a full lot and parallel parking is overrated."

Oscar glanced at you, laughing again.

"What about the time you ran over your own shopping bag because you thought you were in first gear, but it was in reverse, again?"

"I didn’t notice, Osc!"

"Of course you didn’t. You left the bag on the roof, hit the garage door, it fell… and then you panicked, threw it in drive, and crushed it."

"Okay, okay! I know I’m a disaster," you admitted, finally accepting he wasn't going to let you drive. "But you still love me… even if I have no idea how I even passed my driving test, right?"

"You don’t even have to ask that. Of course I love you," Oscar said, his face softening with a small smile.

This time you leaned closer, planting a kiss near the corner of his lips as you laced your fingers with his on the gearstick.

"So… you really love me even if all I’ll ever be is a humble, helpless, incredibly stunning passenger princess?"

Oscar brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.

"Especially because of that. I don’t know, call me old-fashioned… but I like having you here beside me. Safe, calm, even if I’m scolding you for not buckling up properly, or putting your feet on the dashboard, or leaving food crumbs all over the seat, or singing completely off-key..."

"Hey!"

"Yeah, yeah. I know. You're an absolute disaster… but you’re my perfect disaster. And I wouldn’t change a thing."

You melted, a lot, hearing that. Letting your head rest against the window, you finally decided to stop pestering Oscar for a while and just enjoy the music. He’d let you pick the playlist, of course, and right now, One Direction’s debut album was playing.

But staying quiet wasn’t really your style.

Three minutes in, right before Gotta Be You ended, you turned to him again.

"Osc…"

"Yeah?"

"Can I drive just a little bit? Just to the supermarket, I swear. So you can see I can actually do it."

"Nope."

"Not even to the end of the street?"

"You are banned from driving when I’m in the car," Oscar declared.

You huffed dramatically.

"Are you seriously not going to let me? Oscar Piastri, I might have to sue you…"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Why exactly?"

"Because you’re denying me the right to drive and relegating me to permanent passenger princess status. I should at least be allowed one drive per month! Passenger princess privileges, don’t you think?"

Oscar burst out laughing, wondering how you managed to always come up with the most ridiculous arguments and how you could be so persistent when you knew he’d never budge.

"Keep dreaming, sweetheart," he replied. "As long as we’re together, I’m driving."

"Don’t worry. Once we have kids, I’ll make sure they are on my side. They'll give you puppy eyes, and then you’ll have to let mommy drive."

₊˚・₊✧ MAX VERSTAPPEN

"Can I drive the rest of the way home?"

Max didn’t answer. Instead, he simply turned the volume of the music up a notch.

You frowned and reached over to switch off the radio.

“I’m being serious, Max. You’ve been driving all day.”

“I’m fine,” he replied curtly, though his tone was calm. His hands, however, were gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

“You always say that.”

Max glanced at you briefly, then returned his focus to the road.

“Because it’s true. I’m fine,” he repeated.

You smiled faintly, but the truth was, it stung a little.

Sure, you preferred Max behind the wheel. Who wouldn’t? But that didn’t mean you never wanted to drive.

“Max… you know I can drive. I’m actually really good at it.”

“I know.”

“Okay, so if you know that, then why… I don’t know… Why do you never let me drive?”

Silence. You couldn’t tell if he was thinking of an answer, an excuse, or just ignoring the question. Either way, you didn’t press him.

“I don’t like being in the passenger seat,” he said finally.

That didn’t surprise you. Not from Max, not when driving was quite literally his entire life, and one he happened to be exceptionally good at, with four world championships on his back. But what did surprise you was the honesty in his voice. He didn’t often open up, especially not when it came to cars and driving.

“Not even if it means you being my passenger prince?” you teased gently.

Still no answer. Seconds stretched into minutes.

“I’m not saying I want to take your car and joyride around town,” you said softly, careful not to upset him. “I just mean… today, I could drive us home. The same way you take care of us, I want to take care of you, too. But when I’m sitting here, doing nothing… I feel like a burden.”

Max’s jaw tightened. Your words caught him off guard.

“That’s not it,” he said.

“Then what it is?”

Again, silence. You watched his knuckles whiten on the wheel, and noticed the slight aggressiveness in his gear changes.

“When I’m driving,” he finally said, “I know what’s going to happen. I’m in control. I can anticipate anything and fix it if something goes wrong. But if I’m not the one driving…”

“You lose that control,” you finished for him.

He nodded.

“I get it. Really, I do,” you replied, sincerely. “This…” you gestured around the car, then at him, “This is your world. It's what you're best at. But that doesn’t mean you have to be on and focused on everything all the time. You don’t have to protect us constantly, Max. Sometimes… you need to let yourself be cared for, too.”

He looked at you, then shifted his gaze to the rearview mirror where Lily, your six-month-old daughter, was curled up in her car seat, fast asleep.

“You trust me with everything else,” you added gently. “Why not with this?”

Max glanced back at you again, this time fully turning his head as he slowed the car down to a crawl, barely going 15 km/h.

His eyes softened. Then he smiled, just a little.

“You don’t even break the speed limit. You’re… let’s just say a bit too cautious.”

“Excuse me for respecting traffic laws,” you said in mock offense a little too loudly, because Lily stirred and whimpered in her sleep. You winced. “That” you whispered, pointing back “is why I don’t speed.”

“Sorry, but it’s boring,” Max murmured. “And I don’t care that we’re parents.”

“Sure, sure,” you replied with a roll of your eyes. “I know you strictly follow speed limits with Lily in the car… but I also know you don’t when she’s not.”

Max chuckled under his breath. A few minutes later, he pulled into an empty parking lot and stopped the engine.

“Wait, are you seriously…?”

He nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the door.

“Go on,” he said. “Switch seats before I change my mind.”

You squealed and quickly unbuckled, hopping out of the car and doing a little victory dance as you passed him, hugging him along the way.

“I’m so proud of you. This is real growth,” you teased, grinning.

You slid behind the wheel, half expecting him to join you in the passenger seat. But when you checked the mirror, you saw him settle into the back instead, next to Lily, now awake, and begin playing with her.

You couldn’t help but smile. And maybe tear up a little, trying your best to hold back tears.

Max was tense at first. His arms were wrapped protectively around Lily’s seat, and he flinched every time you braked a touch too hard or took a slightly sharper turn, even though, objectively, you were driving just fine.

“Relax,” you whispered, reaching your hand back and gently resting it on his leg. “Want me to go slower?”

He nodded. So you did.

And little by little, maybe for the first time in his life, Max let go of the wheel… and found peace in not being in control. Especially if it meant watching you smile and soaking in every quiet second with the little girl who’d just learned to hold his fingers in her tiny fists while smiling and babbling all the time.

₊˚・₊✧ CHARLES LECLERC

"You know what? I do have a driver’s license too, in case you forgot."

Charles didn’t even look at you when you said it, breaking the silence in a rather annoyed tone. Instead, he kept his eyes on the road and his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.

"Yeah, I remember, don’t worry. The scratches you left on the car two weeks ago and the bill from the mechanic made it pretty clear," he replied sarcastically.

"That doesn’t count," you shot back, rolling your eyes. "That parking space was tiny."

"You parked in a spot meant for a Fiat, not a Ferrari."

He couldn't hold back his laughter after that.

You didn’t find the comment particularly funny, especially because you had felt guilty about the whole thing even though Charles insisted it wasn’t a big deal.

"Let me drive. Just once. I’m really bored."

"Bored? In a Ferrari? With me?"

He turned to you, completely baffled by your complaint, and burst out laughing.

"Yes," you said flatly. "Ever since you let me drive once, Charles, just once, and that happened, I’ve been banished to the passenger seat. I don’t get to do anything from here! So yes, trust me, I’m bored as fuck. Very."

"You want to drive this car? This exact one?"

"Of course I do!"

"Over my dead body, sweetheart."

You crossed your arms and let out a frustrated groan.

"You’re such a control freak."

"No, love, I’m a Formula 1 driver," he corrected you. "Keeping things under control is literally my job."

"You’re insufferable."

"And yet, here we are. Three years later and you still love me."

"I think at this point we just tolerate each other," you joked, still slightly bitter that he wouldn't let you drive.

"Right. That’s why you refuse to go back to your apartment to get clothes and keep stealing mine," he quipped. "How long have you been staying over mine? Five days? You said it was just for one night, if I remember correctly."

"Your place is cozy and bigger than mine. Also, may I remind you that you have Leo, who’s, by the way, way nicer, cuter and more pleasant than you."

While speaking, you started fiddling with the A/C controls, pushing buttons aimlessly in an attempt to make it colder. When Charles noticed, he fought the urge to panic and gently moved your hand away.

"Don’t touch anything," he said seriously.

"God, you really need to humble yourself. It’s just a car, not the Holy Grail," you snapped, genuinely annoyed by his reaction.

Who got that worked up over a car?

Suddenly, Charles pulled into a dead-end road that opened onto a scenic lookout. The view of the ocean was stunning, but that’s not what crossed your mind when he stopped.

"Wait… are you actually going to let me drive?!"

Charles turned off the engine and faced you. Then he smiled and said:

"No."

"Then why the hell did you bring me here?!"

"Because this is where I wanted to bring you all along," he admitted. "I found this spot the other day while driving and thought you’d love it. I know how much you like these type of views, so…"

You gave up.

Looking at Charles, you couldn’t help but throw yourself into his arms, covering his face in kisses, feeling a little more cheerful even if your frustration over the driving situation hadn’t quite faded.

You both sat in silence for a while, now sitting on the hood of the car, you snapping photos of the view, Charles taking photos of you.

"You know," he said after a moment, "you’re the only person I’d share this car with."

"Does that sharing include me driving it?"

"If you already know the answer, why do you ask me?"

You pouted, arms crossed. Charles laughed and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"But you are my passenger princess and trust me, that’s way better," he continued. "You get full control of playlists, unlimited talking privileges, and I even you have the opportunity of eating in the car whatever you want, whenever you want."

"That’s it? Seriously?"

"Also kisses at every red light or pedestrian crossing," he added, making you smile and blush. "And maybe… if I see you really trying…"

"You’ll let me drive?!" you interrupted, eyes lighting up.

"I was going to say I might rent you a car for a day… Does that count?"

You shook your head and gave his arm a playful smack. Then, grabbing him by the chin, you pulled him in for a kiss and made him look you in the eye.

[fairy-angel222]

Dilf! Toji helping his college gf study.. with his cock

Leaning against his door frame as he pushes it open wider. A smirk on his face as you shyly squeeze in past his frame.

You’re holding tons of books in your hands, peering up at him through your lashes as you hand them over. “So.. where do we start?” It makes his cock strain when you tilt your head with your lip nudged between your teeth. Curious as to how he of all people could actually help you study.

“You’ll see, doll.”

He sits you down on his lap with a silent groan. Flipping through pages in front of you as he watched your eyes barely scan over the page.

You huffed, turning around with your arms over his shoulder and a pout. “Come onnn, this is so boring.”

“Study, now.” His voice held no trace of playfulness, the deep rumble making you sigh as you turned back around. “Fine.”

You were so restless, twisting and turning in his lap making his grip tighten on your hips. The man’s breath hitching as his cock hardens.

“You know what doll? Change of plans.” You find his fat cock buried inside you instead. Your thighs twitching as you held back the urge to move, to grind, anything. You were so full, and he was so deep. You needed it.

“Please can i move?” You whimpered, arousal leaking lewdly out his thigh at the feeling of him sat directly against your spot. “P-plea.. haah— please.”

Toji grinned, his breath against your ear as he chuckled meanly. “How about this? For every question you get right, one point gets added to me absolutely ruining that tight little pussy of yours.”

Another whimper, “A-and if i get it wrong?”

“Minus one point of course. Hmm.. and let’s just say when i do fuck you. You won’t be cumming for a while.”

Question after question. Wrong answer after wrong answer. You were probably in the negatives already.

“T-toji ple-ase,” you hiccuped, small drops of tears threatening to spill at simply your neediness. You were so desperate for him to fuck you. Your pussy aching each time he turned you down.

Toji watched as you frustratedly wiped away your tears, pulling the book to you for you to read. Actually read. He was impressed, all so you could get a little bit of cock.

You spend at least thirty minutes studying the pages. Confident when Toji started asking questions. And you had every right to be, answering questions correctly after correctly. Your sniffled voice now turned smug making Toji’s eyes widen. That was hot and he fucking loved you.

“Now. Please fuck me,” you breathe.

“As you wish, doll.” He has you flipped over in an instant. Skirt bunched at your hips as he begins fucking into you. Veiny cock dragging against your walls with each starting thrust.

“Ahh— faster.”

Toji swore he could cum right there, speeding up the pace of his hips until he was ramming into you. Your body being rocked roughly against the couch’s fabric as you moaned loudly. Lips parted in thankful cries each time his hips met yours meanly. “So good, so fucking good.” You mewled, stomach tightening as tears welled in your eyes. Good tears this time.

Your back arched, hands hooking around his torso when your body began to tremble. So close to falling apart. “Nngh— Toji, ‘m so close.” You were right there at the edge, letting out a short scream when he reached down to rub at your clit.

“Yeah? Gonna cum f’ me doll? That’s it.. look at that.” He grunted, watching your eyes roll back with the blissful chant of his name. “It’s too bad i said you wouldn’t cum.”

You whined loudly when he slipped out of you, your hips bucking up towards him as your orgasm died down, adjusting to the new found emptiness. “You’re so mean Toji.”

He swiped his finger along your puffy lips. “I know. Now let’s try this again shall we?”

[c4tluver02]

too tired

wc: 2.2k

summary: After a long day of the sun burning the top of your shoulders and the bridge of Steves nose, things turn sour quickly.

cw: hurt/ comfort, baby fight, Steves fault cuz i said so :P, happy ending

a/n: not a beach fic!!!! but also not not a beach fic..... im a lost cause!

It wasn't even enough to be considered a fight.

You, Steve, and the group were all at the beach. It was hot, possibly the hottest day of the year, and you were all tired. The sun beating down on you for the past few hours took all your energy. So when it was time to pack everything up it was silent, everyone doing their own chore, ready to head home. 

That's where Steve's comment on ‘covering up’ came about. You were gonna walk to the car in your bathing suit, the one that's been torturing Steve this whole time. And if he bothered to ask you, you’d tell him you did this on purpose. For him, of course, a new bikini that would hopefully land you a needy Steve that couldn't get his hands off of you. But instead he handed you the shorts and top you wore coming to the beach. You were half sand and still airing off the water from the sea, which didn't sound like a good pair with clothes that were laying in the sun this whole time. 

Instead of explaining this whole thing to Steve you just scrunch your nose and shook your head saying “too hot”. Not wanting to ruin your barely worn clothes. But to Steve it was just shorts and a tank top. And it’s one more thing he’ll have to carry along with the chairs and cooler. Your damp bathing suit could mess up the seats in his car, and if shorts could stop that why not wear them? 

While all this was going on in his head, something completely different came out of his mouth. 

“You’d rather let all these guys eye-fuck you? Just put it on.” 

You’re surprised your melted brain was even able to process the sentence correctly. Overstimulated by the kids fighting in front of the two of you, sweating with two chairs hurting your arms, and now Steve lecturing you. It was all too much and unfairly getting to you. 

“Steve, you don't even have a shirt on.” You scoff. “I’m not telling you to do shit about it am I?” 

Steve doesn't miss the eye roll you give as you turn your head. He knows his comment wasn't the nicest thing to say but really he doesn't have it in him to baby you about it. 

By the time the two of you get to the cars and everyone starts putting things away the tension is still there. Thick and unwavering, but goes completely missed by the rest of the group. The kids go with Jonathan and Nancy leaving you and Steve alone. No one has enough energy to see how tense you and Steve were. 

“You're still wet, can you at least put on your shorts so you don't ruin the seats?” He asks with a sigh. Like you simply can't do anything right and it's getting on his nerves. 

But he’s right and it makes you boil. Your wet bathing suit is bad for his already breaking down leather seats. You take a towel trying to dry off as much as you can, along with wiping away the sand that's not glued to you. Putting on your shirt and shorts before getting into the passenger seat of the car. 

If it weren't for the music, the car ride would be completely silent. Instead of his hand resting on your thigh like it did on the drive up, it’s stuck gripping the steering wheel. This isn't the biggest fight you two have had. You wouldn't even really consider it a fight. Just two tired and overheated people who let it get the best of them, but it still doesn't make the tone used or the words said go away. 

When you do reach Steve's place he’s quick to get the things out of the trunk. You go straight to the kitchen for water. The kids used all the water bottles you brought along with eating all the snacks. So maybe Steve should cut you some slack, you’re dehydrated and starving. But then again so was he. Which is why you're not terribly upset, you might even take a nap with him still. 

The water is felt through your body and it makes it feel like half of your brain is alive again. You’re sure with a shower and food you would be fully brought back to life. This makes you feel guilty that Steve is still outside putting things back in the garage. He’s probably sweating again and losing even more energy, something he barely had to begin with. 

You decide to bring him a bottle of nice cold water, maybe he’ll even say sorry and this whole thing can blow over. 

But when you walk out and he barely looks at you. Busy putting things away all he gets out is a mumbled “you can leave it there”. You’re not really sure what you did to deserve this attitude he’s giving you. He was the one who told you to cover up, he started the whole thing. If anything you should be the one giving him the cold shoulder. 

So that's what you do. You leave the bottled water on the counter by the door and walk back inside. You weren’t gonna get all sweaty again and deal with his bad mood. 

The next step to feeling better is a shower, one you were planning to have with Steve, but now opting for alone time. The shower is quick, not even warm water makes you feel refreshed, everything is still too hot. And when you get out of the shower and start lightly sweating again you think you might break down and cry. 

You can hear Steve open and close the fridge downstairs, he must be done with putting things away. The thought of him having to come up to his room that you're currently hiding away in makes you sigh. Fighting with Steve is never fun but the part you hate most is trying to avoid each other. This is partially your fault as in the beginning of your relationship you made a rule to not leave during a fight. Walking away doesn't solve anything and no one wants to go to bed upset with a situation. 

Once people walk away they get too scared to come back. Then thoughts start to form and it turns to something worse. Instead you take a break from each other and come back when you're ready. It’s worked so far for the two of you. 

But now he has to shower and you’re still really tired. Maybe too tired to continue this fight, ready to give up on it and talk about it in the morning when you both feel back to normal. 

When Steve comes up and sees a clean you laying on his bed he feels his guilt triple. He’s really not mad at you, just exhausted and wanting the feeling of sand in his hair to go away. 

“Are you gonna nap?” He asks leaning against the doorframe.

You open your eyes, you're kinda in a starfish position on his bed, trying to get cool. “I want to but I am so hot.” It comes out in a whimper and you roll over to groan into the mattress. 

Steve feels like he could do the exact same thing which is why he smiles at your dramatics. He also wishes he could tell you how good you looked in your bathing suit, or how much the kids annoyed him today. Basically missing the debrief you two normally have but too stoic to try anything. 

“I can change the AC to make it colder.” He says simply. “I’ll be back, ok?” 

The gesture of him letting you know he isnt leaving you is kind. Maybe the only kind thing he's done in the past few hours. You let out a small ‘thank you’ and Steve wishes he could be as mature as you in this situation. Unable to thank you for the water or for not going crazy when he stupidly told you to cover up. 

When he comes back he walks to the bathroom and turns the shower on. The frown that settles onto your face feels like it could be permanent at this point. But Steve comes back out before you could let your thoughts circle into a deep rabbit hole of what you’ve done wrong. 

“When I’m done, do you wanna take a nap?” What he means to ask is if you wanted to nap with him. Again too set in his ways to be a bigger person about this. 

“Okay sure.” You nod, your head is already on a pillow which squashes half your face. You look really cute and Steve is heartbroken that he can't kiss the frown off your face. Maybe when you both wake up from the nap he’ll be a grown up about it. 

The shower doesn't take long at all. He’s pretty quick which he should consider himself lucky because two more minutes and you would have been out. Sleep taking over your body before he could even get the chance to meet you there. 

His hair is damp and the way each strand of hair sticks in different directions tells you he didn't bother drying it a certain way. 

You can hear him walk over to you, it only takes a second of observation for him to notice you’re not actually asleep despite your eyes being closed. 

“Scootch.” It doesn't come out harsh, and the hand he rubs along your thigh helps. 

You move to the other side of the bed and he takes the spot you were just laying on. The tiredness could take you both in seconds but both of you want to say something and it shows. 

He lays his palm out against the mattress inviting you to grab onto it. When you do, fingers intertwining, he squeezes your hand. You feel like you haven't touched him all day, his warm hand burns your skin. 

Both of you are laying on top of the comforter, it being too hot for anything to be on you. When you move your leg to tangle with his, he doesn't move away. Steve radiates heat on a normal day so for him to be hot, it feels like you have a fire next to you. Still you don't move away from him, only a small distance separates you two. 

“Baby?” Steve asks, it comes out so small.

“Hmm?” You respond, your eyes are still closed and the ac is starting to actually cool you down. 

“I’m sorry for what I said.” 

His words make your eyes open, it’s getting darker outside now that the day is ending and there's not much light left in the room. 

“Why were you so upset with me?” 

Steve wonders if you still like him enough to bandage his broken heart. You sound so sad when you say it he thinks his heart might’ve just shattered. Completely useless and unfixable. 

“I'm not. I swear I’m not, I really wasn't trying to be a dick I was just really tired and overwhelmed. I dunno, it all just built up inside me and I lashed out on you.” 

“I was tired and overwhelmed too.” You don't say it to counter argue with him but you want to make sure he knows it. 

“I know, you handled everything so much better than me, angel. I really am sorry.” He pulls your hand that's intertwined with him and kisses it a few times. If only he would just give you a real kiss already. 

“It’s okay Steve, I forgive you.” You say with a few small nods like you really need him to believe you. 

“I shouldn't have told you what to do, that wasn't nice and obviously you can do whatever you want to do. I wasn't trying to demand things.” His rambling shows you he really has been torturing himself about it. 

“Steve. It’s all okay. I know you feel bad but I’m already over it, okay?” You give him a smile and slowly he scoots over to you. 

Laying his head on your chest, still hand in hand, as he lets out a deep breath he didn't really even know he was holding onto. 

“Do you still love me?” 

A laugh comes out of you before an answer. Steve can tell it's a real one because he can feel the vibrations on the side of his face. 

“Yes, Stevie, I still love you.” Your fingers gently run through his hair, it’s still drying but straight up. Maybe brushing it down will help it. 

“Do you still love me?” You ask back. It’s a dumb question because this whole thing was never that big but it’s always nice to hear after a day of no kisses or ‘i love yous’.

“Of course I love you, even when I’m hot, sticky, and tired. I promise.” 

“I know and I believe you. Kiss?” You ask puckering your lips making a little kiss noise. 

Finally he gives you a real kiss, along with one on your forehead, nose, and cheeks. It’s all to make up for the missed kisses that he didn't give because he was too busy being an ass. 

“Okay let’s sleep now.” He says settling down on your chest letting his head fall between your shoulder and neck. 

Another laugh comes out of you and you close your eyes. Both of you fall asleep with a smile stitched to your face and limbs tangled together.

[gotaksboyfie]

Hello there !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

I just saw the Seong-je headcannons you did, can i req a oneshot?

Where the reader (fem or gender neutral, its up to you ^^) is an absolute sweetheart (basically a polar opposite to Seong-je) accidentally makes him jealous??

Seong-je x reader smut-fluff req ( ≧ᗜ≦)

(Im a sucker for opposites !! Hehe)

-🎀

sweet and sour

gif creds: @1liv

pairing keum seongje x female reader

summary when seongje catches you talking to another guy, he has to teach you a lesson

word count 1.7k

warnings/tags jealousy, smut, degregation, minor violence

it's late at night, and you're still waiting for seongje's union meeting to end. you're sat outside of a convenience store drinking an iced americano as you stare down the street, hoping seongje comes quick.

a voice from your left startles you as you look up at the owner. it was just some guy from your school—the transfer kid if you remember correctly.

"i love the pin on your bag! you like one piece too?" he points to your purse, where a zoro pin lies.

"oh my god, yes!" you beam as he starts a conversation about one piece and anime. you always enjoyed talking about your interests.

"what's your name? mine's taesan."

"like the kpop idol," you laugh. "mine's y/n!"

the topic somehow shifts to his life as a new transfer student, originally coming from busan.

"how are you enjoying it here?" you ask.

"it's really nice. pretty peaceful so far."

"that's great! there's a really nice cafe with some kitties living around it around xxx street," you clap your hands together happily, remembering the small babies.

"cool. say, would you ever want to go with me some time?"

"mmh.. maybe if i'm not busy?" you furrow your brows trying to think of when you can spare some time to buy food for the cats and go out for a few hours. your schedule consists of... all seongje. uhh....

what you don't notice, is seongje staring intently at the two of you. he doesn't care who it is you're talking to, but you're smiling too widely for his liking.

too sweetly at someone other than seongje. your eyes look too bright as the random inches closer to you. his hands are starting to creep onto your seat, sliding towards your shoulder. even from a distance, the other guy's expression is just sleazy and nasty. seongje's not dumb, he knows what that guy's intentions are.

no one is allowed to touch what's his.

clenching his fist with barely concealed rage, he marches up to taesan wordlessly and strikes him first.

"what the fuck?!" the transfer student yells, clutching his cheek. blood oozes from his lips as he gets into a fighting stance. he doesn't get far before he's knocked down into some tables by seongje.

"the fuck are you trying to do, huh?" seongje clicks his tongue, stepping towards him.

"nothing! i–i swear," taesan pleads, covering his face with his forearm.

"don't fucking look at her, don't fucking talk to her," seongje snarls, diving in to land more hits. "don't even dare to breathe in her direction unless you want to die."

"seongje, stop! he wasn't doing anything!" you try and latch onto his arm to stop him, but he shakes you off.

"i didn't know she was taken!" taesan stammers, barely defending himself from seongje's assaults.

seongje chuckles dryly, "you must be new here. listen, she's mine. get the fuck out of my sight." he grabs taesan's collar and brings his mouth next to his ear, making sure you can't hear seongje. "you're lucky my girl doesn't like blood, or else you'd be losing a limb today."

as seongje gets up, taesan is gone in a flash. seongje doesn't look at you yet, just staring at the wall as he bites his lip angrily.

"seongje, he really wasn't-"

"do you think this is a game?" seongje cuts you off, dragging you roughly towards his house. his voice is quiet but you can hear the anger behind it.

"what? no, of course not." you're stumbling as seongje practically speed walks down the side walk, slightly unable to match his pace.

"you think i don't see it? the way they look at you. like they're owed something just because you look at them once." seongje's head is high as he stops himself from looking at you, holding back just barely.

"we were just talking, though? i was being nice to him," you know the concept of being nice was foreign to seongje, but why was he so worked up?

seongje is silent as he opens the door to his house and slams it shut, immediately pinning you against the nearest wall. your back slams against it and you let out a sharp cry at the sudden pain.

"you don't fucking get it y/n," he snarls at you, "that bastard was seconds away from getting handsy. but of course you're too nice to fucking see it."

"i— i didn't mean to, i'm sorry," you stammer. seongje's face is centimeters from you, and you can smell the scent of nicotine from his breath.

"you don't see it because.." seongje leans in, his nose brushing against yours. his gaze pierces through you as he continues.

"..you're too fucking soft. you see a friend, they see some sweet and easy prey." his hand finds your jaw, holding it in a firm grip. "if one more person approaches you like that, i wont hold back like i did today."

you open your mouth to try and speak, but seongje pinches your cheeks together and cuts you off. "guess i just have you remind you who you belong to, huh?"

in one quick motion, seongje picks you up and brings you in for a bruising kiss. his hands hold onto your thighs tightly before he drops you on the bed.

the bed creaks with your sudden weight, and seongje is over you within seconds. his hands find your hips again, and he tugs you until your clothed pussy is flush against his hard cock.

"you have no clue what you do to me," he groans, rutting harshly against you. the friction feels so good, but it's not enough and you both know that.

"seongje," you whine, pulling him down for another kiss. his hands skillfully take both his and your pants off, and he starts rutting against you again—this time with no layers in between.

"you're fucking dripping for me, sweetheart," seongje mutters as his thumb travels down to find your clit. you gasp sharply as he roughly thumbs at it, hands scrambling at his back.

"ready?"

that's all the warning you get before seongje slots himself inside you in one thrust, leaving you no time to adjust. the stretch is deliciously painful, and tears start to well up in your eyes as seongje starts with a brutal pace immediately.

"it's too– too much! seongje–" you cry out, throwing your head back in a mix of pleasure and pain. seongje grins, leaning in to mark up your neck.

"you're so tight around me baby, like you were made for this. the perfect fit around me," seongje groans into your neck, nipping and sucking dozens of hickeys all over.

when the pain subsides, you can barely form coherent sentences. there's no room for you to breathe, not with seongje's cock pounding into you almost every second.

"no one else can fuck you better than me, isn't that right?" seongje detaches from your neck and talks directly into your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. you nod faintly, hoping that'll satisfy him.

seongje notices the lack of response and pauses briefly, flipping you over and resuming his pace. this angle forces him deeper, and you wail as seongje abuses your cervix.

"you're mine, only mine. got that?" seongje breathes out. "say it, baby."

"'m y-yours," your voice is muffled by the sheets as you stutter it out. seongje doesn't seem too pleased as a sharp sting begins to bloom on your ass.

he chuckles as you flinch from the sudden impact, "that's all you've got? try again."

"i'm yo–yours seongje–!" you choke on his name as he spanks you again, heat flaring across your skin.

"too cockdrunk to even say it properly?" his palm soothingly rubs against where he hit you last, but you know it's all a ruse. another hit has a fresh cascade of tears running down your face as seongje laughs cruelly again.

"one more chance, baby. you've got this, i know you can do it." seongje's voice is mocking as he thrusts harder, as if he already knows you can't do it.

your voice catches before it even leaves your throat. you can’t get it out. your lips part but nothing comes out. your brain is hazy from the sting and the heat and him.

“i’m only yours, s–seongje—please—”

your words collapse under the weight of it all. it’s not even a full sentence. just pieces, broken up by the way your body’s shaking, by the grip he’s got on your hips, by the ache building deep in your gut.

at first it's silent. the only sound you can hear are your ragged breaths, and the wet squelches from where seongje slams into you with no reprieve.

but then you hear it, a quiet sound he makes when he’s pleased with you. a laugh, low in his chest.

"that's what i thought." his voice is slightly deeper, and you can hear the satisfaction in it. "good girl, y/n-ah."

seongje grips your hips again, and you can tell he's planning something. theres no time to dwell on it though, because the knot in your stomach is growing tighter and tighter by the second.

"gonna let everyone know who you belong too? who fucks you the best?"

you nod vigorously as your hand reaches down to circle at your clit, but seongje swats it away. "stay there and take what i give you."

his hand slides down between your thighs in a practiced circular motion with no mercy. your back arches further, and you're so close.

your hips jerk, helpless against the pressure. your moans are getting higher, faster and you’re almost there, barely holding on.

"come for me, sweetheart."

it comes crashing down all at once. your walls threaten to squeeze shut around seongje, and you're crying out his name so loud the neighbors definitely hear it. there's nothing in your mind except for seongje, seongje, seongje—

your thighs twitch as you feel ropes of his release paint your insides, and your arms lay limp next to you. you distantly feel something warm wiping at your entrance, but you're too worn out to properly react.

then, seongje pulls you into his chest. his arms are wrapped around you, with one hand stroking your hair.

"love you," you mumble, dozing off.

"love you too, baby."

fin

a/n i rlly rlly hope this was okay 🙇🙇 this is more on the filthy side rather than fluffy.. i'm sorry 😭

[dumbseee]

i’ll be watching you, two.

note: here’s the part 2! i hope you guys like it! thanks for the support on part 1, really it makes me so happy that you guys liked it <33 don’t hesitate to comment and reblog, btw you can send me requests if you want me to write anything on the weak hero class characters!

part one.

seongje didn’t get it.

he didn’t know how he got there, but he was currently sitting next to seongmok, watching an episode of the current romance drama he was watching.

"why are they staring at each other like that? it’s been ten minutes, just fucking kiss already." seongje sighed, lighting a cigarette, lifting it to his mouth. seongmok sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring at seongje.

"for god’s sake shut up!" seongmok’s frustrated tone made seongje chuckle.

the next scene happened after the mc got beaten up by some thugs, and the female love interest ended up tending to his wounds, which created another romantic scene with those stupid love ost in the background. seongje frowned, suddenly interested, he sat up correctly and watched. which actually surprised seongmok.

the scene ended up with a soft kiss between the two characters, and a light went up in seongje’s mind. he suddenly stood up, which made seongmok jump slightly.

"seongmok, i want you to beat me up."

the taller one looked up at seongje, a frown on his face as he paused the tv.

"what are you on? are you on drugs?" he asked, but seongje looked at him with a determined expression, hands in his pocket and his cigarette on the ground, seongmok sighed before standing up. well, he always wanted to knock some sense into seongje.

you were currently getting ready to go to bed, you had to go to the library, early in the morning, so you could study for your exams. school took the majority of your time, so you never had time to hang out or meet new people. your studies were everything to you. and your part-time job also didn’t help in having a social life.

you were so immersed in your thoughts, that you didn’t even hear the knock on your door. you turned around to look at the door and frowned, you didn’t order anything and sure didn’t expect anyone. you walked towards the door and cursed yourself for still forgetting to add a peephole. you opened it slightly and gasped as you saw a man, on the ground, and clearly beaten up.

"oh god!" your hand went to your mouth, as you immediately plopped down. your heart skipped a beat when your eyes met the man’s eyes, and you quickly recognised him. the guy from yesterday, who saved you from hanbin, your coworker. "it’s you…" you mumbled, he chuckled but winced from the pain of having a busted lip. "wait, let’s go inside." you helped him get up, propping his arm on your shoulders, you walked slowly and gently made him sit on your couch.

seongje was ecstatic, his plan was going so well already. seongmok did a great job at beatting his ass and apparently had a blast doing it.

"i’ll get the first aid kit." you told seongje, under the lights of your apartment, you could have a proper look at his injuries, he had a busted lip, that was still bleeding profusely, his cheek seemed to be bleeding as well and he was clutching his ribs, which worried you more.

seongje had to fight the urge to smile, he kept bitting his lip which didn’t help his case. it just made the cut deeper, and caused more blood to ooze from the wound.

you quickly came back with the first aid kit, concern laced in your traits, which made seongje’s heart speed up, you barely knew him and there you were, worried sick for him. oh, how he loved to see you like this.

his eyes never left your face, you truly were the most gorgeous human being he ever seen. your warm eyes, filled with concern for a man who didn’t deserve it, the little crease on your forehead, translating how concentrated you were in helping seongje, which warmed his cold heart. your face was getting dangerously closer to his, and seongje hated how he couldn’t control the speeding of his heartbeat.

"what happened to you?" you finally asked, the question had been burning your tongue since you opened the door.

seongje did help you with hanbin, and he seemed nice, but the way he got your address without asking you, was still bothering you.

you weren’t a fool, seongje had to be involved in some shady business, to get beaten up like that, and also to be so skilled in fighting.

"don’t worry, i’m sorry for bothering you." liar. he actually orchestrated the whole thing just to see you again.

"it’s okay." your voice was like a soft melody to his ears, he knew he could listen to your voice all day, maybe he should put some recording device in your apartment? that way, he’d be able to listen to you, and know every single thing about you.

"what’s your name by the way?" you asked again, and you were curious about him? seongje was truly in heaven right now, getting taken care of by you, and you were asking things about him.

"geum seongje, how about you?" what an actor, seongje was surprised in his acting skills, maybe he should consider a career change.

"l/n y/n." he knew that already, of course he did.

he knew everything about you, from your favourite snack to your least favourite coffee shop. he knew about your first boyfriend, that actually broke your heart back in your first year of high school. seongje knew about that too, found the guy and smashed his legs.

no one should be able to walk freely after hurting you.

no one should be able to breath, at all, after hurting you.

the mere thought of you being hurt or sad, made seongje tense for a second, which you caught and made you stop in your movements.

"does it hurt?" seongje couldn’t stop himself from smiling, you were so cute and sweet to him.

"nah, i’m used to it." he mumbled, eyes still fixated on your face, he didn’t miss the look of uncertainty in your eyes.

"you should stop getting into fights, or whatever your doing." you added, which surprised seongje, out of everything you could’ve done or said, you chose to keep worrying for him.

something no one ever did.

this was only his second real interaction with you, but he was already getting addicted. the way you made him feel was a high he knew he’d chase forever. a normal person would’ve never opened their door to a wounded stranger, but you did anyway. you were different.

"how is work? that bastard keeps bothering you?" you finished cleaning the wounds on his face, you put a medium-sized bandage on his cheek and started to tidy up. "he resigned, i think he got the memo after yesterday." you started to stand up so you could put the first aid kit, back in your bathroom, but seongje grabbed your wrist, which startled you.

"ah… my head hurts, i’m feeling dizzy." he closed his eyes and put his head on your lap. he got comfortable, arms crossed on his chest as he kept his eyes closed.

you froze, you didn’t know how to react to that. that guy was weird, that was a given, but something deep inside of you didn’t want to push him away. why? a random guy is laying on your lap, in your apartment, late at night and you’re not calling the police? that’s crazy.

you always lived a simple, sometime boring life, you came from a middle-class family, who sent you to the city for your studies, when you were off school, you were off to work, and then at home to do your homework and sleep. you lived a rather boring life, yes.

so maybe you enjoyed that little change in your routine? and maybe you enjoyed seongje’s chaotic presence? the guy has to be involved in some shady business with the way he showed up with new and old bruises. but weirdly enough, you didn’t ask about it.

something must be wrong with you, but is that so bad?

"what’s gotten you so lost in thoughts?" seongje’s eyes were still closed, and his voice sounded like he was almost falling asleep.

"nothing." you lied, and seongje immediately caught it, he opened his eyes, the way he looked at you kinda made you feel uncomfortable, he looked at you like you were an open book to him. like he could read straight through you.

"don’t lie to me, darling." you hated how your cheek started to burn from the nickname.

you must be ovulating, you never acted this way before. well, you hardly received any attention from the male audience, not that you complained, you loved your peaceful life. but sometimes, you wished someone would barge into your quiet bubble and add some spice.

well, there comes seongje.

"tell me more about you."

woah. for the first time in his life, geum seongje had nothing to say to that. seongje isn’t someone you can shut up easily, he always has something to say, no matter what the question is, he always as an answer.

ask him about himself and it’s crickets.

"what school do you go to, what are your favourite subjects, do you have any dreams? stuff like that." you saw how taken aback he was by your question, and if you were an open book to him, seongje was definitely one to you as well.

without warning, seongje started laughing, almost hysterically. which surprised you, did you say something funny? he was laughing so hard, he started coughing and tearing up. seongje calmed down after a few seconds, he got comfortable again on your lap and looked up at you.

"you’re funny, i’m not that interesting." he answered, and you were a little disappointed by this. you needed to know more about this man, why was he being so mysterious for?

"i want to know more about you, too." even though he already knew a lot, he needed to listen to all the little stories you had about your life.

"i’m an only child, i was born and raised in jeju island, i miss my parents sometimes." at the memory of your parents, a small smile appeared on your lips. "they sent me here to have a better life, and i’m a high school student." he knew all of that already.

"that’s just the surface of who you are, tell me something no one knows about you." not even him.

you had to think about this one for a few seconds, not because you didn’t know what to answer, you weren’t quite sure if you felt comfortable opening up to a literal stranger.

but that’s the thing with seongje, he doesn’t feel like a stranger, he’s so comfortable around you. like he’s known you forever, maybe the two of you knew each other in a past life?

"i’m lonely." you blurted out.

and that surprised seongje.

you? the most beautiful and shining soul he’s ever seen? how could you feel lonely when the room lit up everywhere you went? seongje did notice how you didn’t seem to have any friends except from your coworkers at work and some classmates who seemed to like you. but seongje also noticed how the eyes of everyone in the room were always on you, it did piss him off, but you were always the center of attention, no matter how quiet you were.

"i can’t explain it very well, but i do feel lonely. like my life has no purpose at all, like i don’t belong anywhere, i-… i don’t know." you didn’t notice how you started playing with seongje’s hair. he sure did noticed and almost went into cardiac arrest. "i’m also very scared of the future, i’m not that good of a student, no matter how hard i study, i can’t get those insane grades like my other classmates." you continue, your eyes were focused ahead, but your mind was far away. "what if i end up disappointing my family? they sacrificed so much for me, what if they end up realising that i’m a failure?"

"hey." you jumped at seongje’s harsh tone. you blushed as you yanked your hand out of his hair, but the coldness of his eyes, who were still focused on you, sent shivers down your spine.

seongje finally sat up, his face was only a few inches from yours and you nearly merged with your couch with how hard you were backing away. your cheeks were burning hot and you hated how naked you felt in front of seongje’s piercing gaze.

"don’t you dare say that about yourself." he said, and you weakly nodded.

seongje’s eyes landed on your lips for a second, and it took him all his self restraint to not slam his lips against yours. not yet. but what’s wrong with a little ki-

seongje’s phone started buzzing in his pocket and he swore he’d kill whoever dared to burst his bubble. seongje closed his eyes before sighing, he took out his phone and answered.

"hm? are you kidding me? send dongha or whatever. fuck you baekjin, you owe me one."

you didn’t know who those people were but seongje looked pissed, he hung up and stuffed his phone in his pocket. he looked at you and forced a smile.

"i gotta go, darling, but we’ll see each other again, sleep well tonight." seongje sent you a flying kiss before taking off.

and just like that, seongje was gone.

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and finally relaxed on your couch. that was one eventful night if you ever had one. but weirdly enough, you liked whatever happened tonight. you got to see seongje again, talked with him, and he even scolded you for doubting yourself. that made you chuckle, he looked so upset at you for a second.

your phone buzzing against your thigh took you out of your reverie. you pulled it out and noticed a new text from an unknown number.

"lock your door and go to sleep, darling, see you very soon." the text read, and once again it got you wondering how did seongje got your number, when you never gave it to him yourself?

on the other side of the city, seongje played with a baseball bat, twirling it around while whistling. the bat was covered in blood, and three men were scattered around, covered in blood and barely conscious. seongje was feral, he was so pissed at how his night turned out, it started so well and ended like shit.

"you’re the reason why i’m not with my girl, tonight." he spat, kicking one of those guy in the face. "because of you, i’m away from her, fucking bitch!" he kicked, again, and again and didn’t stop until he finally was out of breath.

one thing was for sure, you may not know how to figure your life or where you belong, but you sure belonged to geum seongje, always and forever.

[lavilavs]

୨୧ ── Now I know you want me

Continuation of — I wish I knew you wanted me

› Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader

› Scenario: A blind date? He can't let that happen! After realizing his mistake of letting his chance go by, he challenges fate itself to have you in his arms.

› Notes: English is not my first language. Reblogs and likes are very appreciated! + I hope this lives up to the first part. This is mostly fluff and a happy ending. ^^ 4k words btw

Dick felt the whole world's weight from what he heard. Kory said what?

He's using his willpower to keep himself from dramatically falling on the floor. He knows he heard her correctly, he cleans his ears two times a week, for god's sake. Still, that crooked smile on his face didn't fade along with that twitch in his eyes.

Maybe Kory just used the word 'date' wrong. She might've mistaken it for 'date' as in the day of the month or year. He even googled the definition to show her. Denial makes you go to the limits of logic and into the spectrum of insanity, and right now, Dick Grayson can prove that.

He's thinking of every possible misunderstanding that they can make about the situation. Dick was a ticking time bomb of 'what ifs,' about to explode if not for his 5 stages of grief in front of an unimpressed Kory.

"Kory, should I kiss you again? Because you might be using some words wrong." There was sarcasm laced in his voice. His eyes were wide in disbelief.

He wanted to laugh in her face so badly. Tell her that he's willing to teach her to enhance her vocabulary, that maybe she's got some definitions mixed up.

"I told you, Dick. She said she has a blind date today." She repeats what she heard from you earlier that day. And the Tamaranean could swear she heard something shatter. Dick slumped on the floor with his hands covering his face. Regret bubbling in his chest.

He knows you were deeply affected by what transpired the other day. You weren't a workaholic like he was, so when he found out that you were barely inside the tower anymore due to your sudden eagerness to go on missions and stakeouts, he knew this was your way of releasing anger.

Who was he to stop you? After all, he was angry too. The chance slipped through his fingers. As a result, he barely saw you anymore. The tower felt emptier without you freeloading around when you didn't have anything to do.

He wouldn't say it out loud, but he appreciates the noise you bring to breakfast when you grumble about the food being distasteful when he cooks it when you're also the one hoarding it all. All those broken training dummies when he specifically told you not to overdo it, your witty and sarcastic remarks in team meetings, having you by his side during missions... Dick misses it all.

"And? What did you say to her?" He speaks through his hands, refusing to look at Kory. It was childish of him, but he can't help it, she should have tried to stop her from going out.

Dick can already picture Kory face palming at his behavior from the sound of her exasperated sigh alone. While she understands how Dick is feeling, he hasn't acted this irrational in a while. Kory knows him, she dated him. She knows how much this man can love. Dick can risk it all for it. The thought of him being such a man causes a mystery in her mind: if Dick Grayson is a risk taker, why didn't he take it with you?

Human feelings and the relationships here on earth were different from Tamaran, but Kory isn't oblivious or ignorant to their differences. Still, it wasn't her place to speak on it. Even if she knew you still had a place in his heart, Kory never showed resentment. She was only curious about how two people who are clearly in love with each other can't be together. What fear was holding you both back?

"I told her to enjoy her date," she states the obvious. "I wouldn't stop her from finding happiness. If you're against it, you should've taken the opportunity to confess the other day."

"It isn't as easy as you think it is." His tone turned lower with each word, knowing it was a weak reason.

"Maybe I don't, but look at you now—where exactly do you stand in her life to complain about her trying to love, Dick?"

Kory's right. He was basically nobody but a leader and a close friend to you, they had no right to intervene in your love life. That doesn't make it any better.

Dick's audacity knows no bounds if he thinks that you shouldn't just agree to dates, much less a blind one! He felt uneasy that you're going to meet someone you don't know and possibly... You'll find them much more appealing than him—your closest friend of 15 years.

He should take a breather first and then think about ways to sabotage her date—no, stop that, Dick! Don't even think about it.

His conscience tries to reason with him, but his love outweighs morality. By the time Kory realized that look on his face, Dick was already bolting out of the tower in his motorcycle. She yells after him, hoping that he'd stop and rethink the devious plans he concocted inside his brilliant mind. It was futile. A man in love knows no bounds.

This was wrong, and he knows it. The revs of his motorcycle drown out every message his conscience sends him. He only went faster with desperation as his fuel. Dick's grip on the handle tightens when he thinks that he's too late, perhaps you're already enjoying the presence of that person.

He prays desperately under his breath. Just this time, this one time—let Fate be his friend. He'll do everything to be heard this one time.

Dick swears that if fate can hear him right now, he'll stand by his words, and this will be his last opportunity to have you in his arms at the end of the day.

Only now that you're completely about to slip away from him is when he decides to move. He lives up to his name, he is a dick for doing so.

The words, "Why now?" are on the table, but he bargains that it was better than an "I loved you." at your wedding in the future with this blind date of yours. And he can't have that.

He was beginning to think that fate was only his enemy when he suddenly got a whiff of your perfume in the air. Dick maneuvered his bike to the side, his head whipping from side to side to catch a glimpse of your figure.

It was a distinct smell that sets you apart from the citizens here in this forsaken city. He knows since that scent was from him. You loved his gift so much that it became your signature scent. You were certain that the brand could name it after you as well, as if it was solely for you.

You emerged from that shop you once said was not to your taste with a big smile on your face as you talked with your date.

Dick remembers laughing at your face when you tried not to show your displeasure at the drink you just shoved down your throat. You were trying hard to show a smile instead because of the staff happily asking for a picture to promote their shop.

When they asked you to come again when you stood by their doors, he almost cracked again at your small forced smile—looking like a life sentence had befallen you.

Did they bring you here? Why didn't you say you didn't like it here? Did they even ask you? He was beginning to get agitated again just thinking about it. If they wanted to take you out on a date, they had to take you to the most extravagant places here. It didn't matter if they had only met you today, you deserved the best.

As you walked through the streets of Blüdhaven, Dick couldn't help but feel you were everything and your date was just there. Like a fully rendered drawing next to a sketch of some sort. It was obvious you were out of their league. Emphasis on 'their' since he, himself, is also included.

As said before, Dick put you on a pedestal that nobody could reach. Not even himself. It doesn't mean that he's in love with the idea he created of you—god, no. He's in love with everything about you, good and bad.

So, seeing you with someone who hasn't properly learned how to love you? It gives Dick an unpleasant feeling. They don't seem to be that bad, but for you to be with them? You're too special for that.

The audacity to even bring you on a date in his turf is just beyond him. Everyone knows Nightwing is the protector of Blüdhaven, and they still brought you here. There were other places—better ones that he'd think of to take you. Anywhere else but here.

Throughout the time he's spent with you, Dick knows you like the back of his hand. He's got you memorized down to the way you'd cover your mouth while you laugh if you found it boring like you're doing now. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, thinking that you've never faked your laugh with him before, so why bother staying with this annoying, boring piece of sh—okay, Dick, calm down.

You joke around with your date until you both enter a restaurant. Dick stands outside of the chosen restaurant this time after a few minutes had passed. Dick can't even mask the displeasure on his face. Is this another one of Fate's jokes, because why this one? This blind date of yours must be truly blind for picking the worst places to take you in.

You hated this one as well. You didn't like the customer service and the way they made your pasta soggy. Dick was practically pulling on his face from the irritation your date's decisions bring. He was more irritated that you didn't seem to mind. How can you sit there, across from your date, looking so pretty and happy as if you didn't tell Dick that you never wanted to go back here?

He interrupts the incoming waiter, "Table for one. I prefer that spot behind those two lovely couples over there." Dick didn't wait for them to respond. There was nobody using that table, and he has the liberty to choose where he sits. The server didn't even interfere with his demands—Dick's face was unpaintable with his overwhelming rage bubbling inside of him.

Dick uses the menu to hide his face, purposely sitting behind you to perfectly conceal himself. His ears perked up with every fake laugh you gave your acquaintance—he decided just now that they weren't even worthy to be called your date at this point. He dislikes how cheesy their jokes are. Those jokes are second-rate when it comes to his puns that you genuinely laugh at. He can't even count how many times he has rolled his eyes today.

The servers interrupted their fake stand-up comedy, coming in just in time to save Dick and you from hearing any more jokes. Dick's server had also arrived at his table at the same time. He stole a glance at where you pointed, realizing it's the same one you ordered last time you were here with him.

"I'll have this, thank you." He hands his menu over. Before they could leave his table, Dick stopped them. "Can you make them chewy but not soggy? That's what sh—I like." Smoothly covering his words up.

The waiter left just in time for Dick to listen in again. You guys weren't laughing anymore, you just intently listened to them. His face sours again. When you're with him, you're talkative. Contrary to the cold and mature vibe you show off on TV, you were completely different around him. How he loved hearing you talk and talk about things he doesn't know about. Dick always made sure to research it after.

"Have you dated before?" Their question takes you both aback. A nostalgic feeling from days ago is brought up again. Another simple yet difficult question was thrown your way.

Even if you had your back turned on Dick, he had a feeling you had the same look as you did back then. Lost and unsure, but you already have an answer inside. Just too scared to say it without sugarcoating it.

"No, I haven't." Dick hears a smile from your voice, doing its best to sound soft and unhurt. His heart twitching at your words. He feels sorry, but he can't place why.

"I'm surprised a woman like you hasn't dated before. Are the people around you blind or just outright cowards?" Dick mustered up a nasty side-eye to give your acquaintance. He was mad because he got hit by an imaginary arrow.

"I suppose it's both?" You laugh awkwardly. An image of Dick pops up in your mind again. He's been showing up in your thoughts nonstop ever since you went out on this blind date.

Meanwhile, the guy in question can't help but feel bad about himself for making you feel like you're unwanted. It wasn't that people were blind enough to not appreciate you but rather the latter. There was this air around you that made people assume that you were already promised to someone. He even argued with Wally once or several times because the poor boy also liked you.

"Well... have you ever loved anyone?" Now this was a question Dick was also curious about.

He stayed tense in his seat, anxiously waiting for your answer.

"I have, of course. But I'm just not the girl of his dreams." You spare another laugh, a sad-sounding one that the two people fawning over you in this room felt bad for hearing your answer.

"How so? Have you ever tried telling him your feelings?"

"I have. But before I got to, he—"

The server interrupts another crucial time that Dick can't stop a groan from escaping his lips. It naturally garnered attention, he hid himself by pretending to pick something up before you could even see him.

Am I going crazy, or did I just hear Dick? You shrug it off, no way he's here.

Dick returned to his seat when you looked away, his order already waiting on his table. The dry chuckle you let out caught his attention, then it went to the dish in front of you. It looked like the same soggy noodles they served last time.

He quickly raised his hand for assistance.

"I'm sorry, you must've switched my plates with that dear lady over there."

"Pardon? But this is—"

"Trust me on this one." Dick had no room for arguments, he carefully picked his plate up and handed it over to the server. He watched as he explained the switcheroo.

You look at the server in confusion. How could the plates be switched when it's the same dish? The server whispers at you to look at the man behind you. You were expecting a fifty-year-old man who had a thing for soggy pasta.

Long story short, it wasn't. You locked gazes with Dick Fucking Grayson. How long had he been here?

Dick curses under his breath. He did not see that coming. That server is such a snitch. For doing his job and looking after the safety of their customers. You were right, customer service does suck here.

Perhaps he was grateful for your personality that disliked scenes in public. Because deep down, he was scared shitless at what you would do if you weren't that kind of person. You knew better than to confront him now, as there was always a later.

"It's okay, I'll take this. Thank you." Having known who it is, it makes you less worried about being poisoned. You were about to dig in when you noticed the consistency of the noodles. From sight alone, you knew that it was cooked the way you liked it. When you compare it to the old dish, this was definitely better.

"Are you okay? Here, have some tissues." Your date hands over some tissues, worry laced in their face. Huh, you were crying without knowing it. And it's because of the same person again. This asshole just knows you to the bone. He understands and respects every part of you in his mind.

Why is Dick acting like this when you decide to go on a date to forget him? To remind yourself that there were more people out there. The only thing you've realized is that there are more people out there, but none of them will ever be him.

Your heart still wants Dick Grayson.

"I'm sorry. You're a great person, really. I can't do this to you when I love someone else." You try to sound fine. Although it was already too late, with the tears making you choke on your sobs. They let you go, understanding how you felt. With a smile from them, you gave them your gratitude.

"Here's my half. Thank you for taking me out today." And with that, you hurriedly exit out of the restaurant.

Dick saw you leave without looking back. This is it, you're running away again. He also put his payment on his own table and was about to exit the vicinity when he took the money you left on your own table with him.

"Don't let her pay. You troubled her enough." He rolls his eyes at your acquaintance before leaving entirely.

Dick calls out your name as soon as he is out of the restaurant. It gathered attention from passersby, but he couldn't care less.

He made a promise to the wind, to the sky, to the gods, to fate, that this will be his last chance to have you. If he lets you go now, he'll regret it forever. He also wants to know what you were about to say earlier. Agh—he has a lot of questions.

He gets on his motorcycle, driving as fast as he can to each block you may have gone to. Fuck—just where were you? Dick composes himself and looks at the radar on his bike. What nearby places could you have run off t—The pier! Yes! If you wanted to clear your head, the pier was one of the places you'd go to.

Thank God he had a motorcycle with him, he could already see your figure slipping through those wooden stairs to reach the secret spot you shared with him. It makes everything easier. He carefully threaded through the hollow woods, surprisingly still standing after all these years. It makes creaks, alerting you that he was here. Who else could know about this, anyways?

This spot had a clear view of the ocean and granted you both some solitude. It was the perfect place to talk.

"Why'd you leave your... date? They seemed lovely." You knew he was lying when he gritted his teeth to compliment them. Despite feeling down, you still had the energy to laugh and smile at Dick. Like you had a spare set of batteries made just for him.

"Some Dick was following me the whole time. That's why."

"You're lucky a Dick was following you, not a pussy like that date of yours." Dick cringed at his own joke, but the sound of your laughter eased him.

You both knew it wasn't the reason, though. That's why he's patiently waiting for you to speak again.

"I'm sure you heard it, Mr.Cleans-his-ear-a-lot. Don't ask me why." You roll your eyes at him, gaining a chuckle from him.

"Sooo... you love someone else. Great. Who are they?" He had no time to waste. Dick prepared himself for your answer. What he didn't expect was that your face turned even more displeased.

Dick really is a dick. He sounds like a friend. But it isn't what you want. With the way he worded it, he sounded unaffected that you love someone else that's not him. That realization hurts you all the more.

"How can you be this dense when you know me so well, Dick?" Your voice cracks as you question him, glaring at him through your tears. For once you don't make it look like you were this strong superhero that he can always rely on. You wanted him to look at you like a woman that cracks at love's painful conquests too.

"I even went on this stupid date just to move on"

"You did?" For me?

"I did." For you.

For once, Dick doesn't know what to answer you. He always had something reserved for you but not this time. He didn't anticipate this happening. It all dawns on him right at this moment.

"I tried telling you thirteen years ago but you left me alone with no answers. You just left me there—didn't even let me finish what I was saying. That time, I felt so unbearable that even you decided to leave when I told you I love you."

Dick feels his stomach churn in guilt. He had no idea. He was too scared to confront his own insecurities, so he ended up hurting you in the process. This whole time, for more than a decade, you could've been together if he just faced you like a man. But sadly, he was just a boy back then.

"I'm sorry—" Your name sounded like a plea for forgiveness. "I was too scared back then. I freaked out. The thought of you loving me back was nothing more than a dream for me back then." You felt his muscular body holding you close to him, so tight that you felt the thump of his heart in your ear.

"Even just seeing you near that idiot earlier made me frustrated at myself because why did I wait this long until someone had the chance to take you out on a date before me?" Your hair feels wet. 

"Just to think that someone you met today already did the things I've always wanted to do with you made me realize how much of a coward I still am when it comes to you." You look up at him. He is crying.

Your hands pull him down to your level, fingers working their way up to his face, cradling him like a precious jewel. His cheek felt hot against your palm despite the flowing tears dripping down from his eyes.

"I hated how they took you to those places you hate here in Blüdhaven. Did they even realize it? They didn't know you like I do, and yet... fuck. I'm so mad at myself." He snuggles up to your palm more, chasing the comfort it brings. "Tell me, do I deserve your love even when I'm like this?" A coward, insecure, and beyond fixation.

Dick looks into your glossy eyes. Its softness still remained after all that he said. You still looked at him the same, nothing has changed except that the warmth in your eyes was a flame that he could clearly see now. His insecurity has completely blinded him from seeing the good things.

You pull his head closer to plant a chaste kiss on his forehead. Your fingers thread his hair back, smiling down at him with tears streaming down your own face.

"You've always been deserving of it. How could you not?" You plant another kiss on the tip of his right eyebrow. "And they didn't pick it, I did." You laugh a little when you share the truth before pressing your lips on his other eyebrow.

"In the end, I still subconsciously picked you. I picked it because it reminded me of you, no matter how much I hate those fuck-ass 1-star businesses of theirs." More tears flow out of you as you kiss his nose.

"It didn't matter that the drinks tasted like shit or if the pasta was soggy. I still loved it because I was with you, Dick. You're capable of making me love things I thought I wouldn't." You kiss his tears away.

Memories flash on your mind as you speak—every single one had Dick in it.

"How can I not love you when you made me feel seen?"

You remember how he'd always include you in a conversation whenever he caught up with old friends in the street. Dick introduced you proudly to his friends.

He'd talk about how amazing you are instead of talking about how he's been. As much as you were flattered by it, you felt embarrassed that he shared about you more than his life.

"But you're a part of my life, aren't you?"

"How can I not love you when you've always heard me?"

The meeting was turning into a mess. It happened when you were just new to the team and Batman had already appointed you a big role in the next mission.

Seeing as you were new, it was difficult to communicate with the team, especially when it was such a crucial mission that made everyone clash with their beliefs.

But Dick was different, even when you weren't saying anything, he suddenly yelled.

"Wow! That's a great idea. What do you suppose on doing when—" And he just kept going and going until they all eventually listened to you.

"Think about everything, Dick. You make everything a reason for me to love you." The speechless look on his face had you leaning in, it felt right to.

"May I?" You ask for permission. It didn't take long for you to feel his lips against yours. Nothing in your life has felt right other than this.

You were both a tearful mess, but you couldn't care less. Fifteen years of waiting has come to this. It felt intense and gratifying to have you after years of yearning for one another. Dick kissed you passionately, stealing and giving air—back and forth.

He'll take whatever he had just for this kiss to be endless. A few minutes wouldn't be enough, this was basically half of his lifetime. Best believe that he's already thinking about spending the other half with you already.

Dick wouldn't have let go of you if he didn't feel your hands tapping his back. He broke the kiss with a pop, lips already swollen with the ferocity of your first kiss. You both desperately gasp for air, breathing heavily with love adorned in your eyes.

"Breathe enough?"

"Y—"

That one syllable was enough for him to smash his lips against yours again. Dick needed this—You needed this. He kissed you like he'll lose you again. He smiles when he feels you reciprocate the same energy back.

It was evident that this is what happens to two hopeless people when they realize it after fifteen long years, it burst like a dam, now they're drowning in each other. They'll even be thankful if they did.

Dick was thankful that fate didn't make a joke of them this time. Maybe it had enough of seeing both of you fighting hard against what was written in its notebook of destiny. He was content knowing you both broke free from his threads and had the liberty to write your own ending.

He's sitting here with you in his arms, just the two of you and the ocean. It's crazy to think that fifteen years ago, you both sat here making guesses about the future, goof around, eating the stolen food from the fridge. Those were all good times.

Talking until Bruce even sent out police forces to find the two of you. You didn't realize the moon had risen from its slumber because of how distracted you both were with each other. That's how enamored you've been, to the point where everything feels like a fantasy. It really was just you and him from the start.

Despite all of the misunderstandings and heartache, you're both finally here. A smile on each other's faces, sharing a look that you both shared the same thoughts.

I wish I knew you wanted me—sooner.

Extra scene!

You leave your secret place in the pier hand in hand. A big smile adorning your faces. Man, it felt good to have each other.

At the distance, Dick saw a familiar man. It was the server from that 1 star restaurant.

"Wassup, buddy. End of your shift already?"

"There he is, officer, it's this man right here."

Within a second, Dick was in handcuffs. You both stared at the waiter with wide eyes. You scramble around Dick and the officers escorting him. "What the hell? He didn't even do anything, let him go." You glared at the men in duty who flinched a little bit.

"Uhm, excuse me? He robbed you and you don't care?" The waiter sassily judges you. "He what?!" Your hands were immediately on his shoulders, shaking him to get more answers.

"He stole that money you left on the table and ran away." He looks at you deadpan.

"DICK, WHAT THE FUCK?"

"I DIDN'T WANT YOU TO GO 50/50 WITH THAT LOSER."

[plumipal]

Daughter of evil Vil

Once again a completely self indulgent post, sorry for the delay got a 40° fever and fell like 3 times during the making of this BUT IM FINE NOW! These yans really are out to kill me after all I've put em though lmfao

So imagine, somewhere after chap 5 where vil and you have gotten to know eachother way better since the VDC. You're all and up thinking about the music you loved back from your own home, wishing you just could hear it once again. You basically had everything memorised, but it's not just the same!!

So, taking the matter into your own hands, you contact vil about wanting to stage a musical and if he perhaps wanted to be the "main villian" (aka both the main character and your favorite character). Vil, for once, isn't upset about being the main villain, on the contrary he's ecstatic! He can barely keep his mask up as he tells you that he would LOVE more than ANYTHING to be Riliane...

You're quick to thank him and hug him, him of course savoring every second of it. You're quick to get to work to writing the script/lyrics from memory along with sewing vils dress for him (it's like several dates over at ramshackle for him because he gets to be in such close vicinity with you alone.

The play is an absolute success, vil gives his absolute ALL, just for you, and ONLY for you. He doesn't cate who else is seeing the damn musical, all he cares about at this point is your gave on him and your approval.

He feels your gaze on him for the entirety, too blissful about being the center of your attention to even hold up his social persona incase anyone is filming after the musical. He just can't function correctly when you look at him, when you smile at him, when you do anything really. He's smitten, down bad, in love and everything inbetween.

Ace and Deuce can't stand how Vil is blatantly flirting with you, resulting in them trying to drag you away after the show (only to be stopped by vil, he has charmed you during this performance, and of course he shows in that he has a gift for you back at his dorm.

The gift being smothering you in his love and kisses, almost some sort of cuteness aggression as he can't stop himself. The blood sweat an tears you put into this and how you chose him to be the main character almost moved him to tears after all, you had to be rewarded <3

Not long after the musical, people had sent their gossip photos around to several accounts on magicam as to get some juicy drama our of the megastar. But, at this point, vil is too smitten with you to even care about his social status anymore. He doesn't care about magicam or being better than niege liek he used to. He only cares about you and your approval.

Still a short post, but I hope you all enjoy! I love love LOVE the musical, and recommend yall give it a litsen! The evillious chronicles on YouTube, especially the newer one (Karen aka the girl who plays riliane is just so much more vil coded imo). Anyway hope yall enjoy :P

Link to the song in question:

[suiana]

❝ I Reincarnated Into a Shitty Chirstmas Romance Movie and My Love Interest is a Yandere?! ❞

✎ featuring my creature, Ezra Valentine :3 this is just ezra being a weirdo, some lore for my game? idk blawg just read it and you'll find out

✎ special shoutout tags to these people @yandere-yearnings @forbidden-sunlight @moyazaika @bun3333s @yanderenightmare @cumtastiics @ozzgin

Your "childhood friend" is a bit of a weirdo, you think.

Staring at you for far too long, lingering touches that suggest that he's more than just a bit interested in you, and the weird random confessions about how he wants to get crushed under the heel of your right shoe...

It's just weird.

You've reincarnated into a shitty christmas romance movie. And your "childhood friend", aka the love interest, aka Ezra Valentine, has a crush on the main character, you. Obviously.

You don't even know why you watched this movie in the first place. Boredom, maybe? Yeah, probably was because you started dozing off after hour 1 of the movie. The movie was... 1 and a half hour long? It wasn't even rated that high. Like a... 6.9 at best.

And now you're stuck here all because you watched this shitty movie with an even shittier plot. Where the main character left the small town for a big city, came back home to celebrate christmas and meets childhood friend, decides to give up big city life because they both fall for one another.

Just like every other damn Mallhark movie. Predictable, boring, absolutely TRASH.

You don't even know why or how you got reincarnated into this damned movie in the first place! Did you fucking pass away in your sleep??? Actually just die from fucking boredom???

Well it's no use thinking about that now because you've been stuck in here for a while now. You think that you're maybe about halfway through the original plot, where Ezra and the old mc were supposed to have some bonding time together and shit. But that's not the case now, because you've changed the plot.

And you're realizing that this "childhood friend" of yours... Is acting a little bit differently.

You don't remember him being that much of a weirdo in the original movie. If you remember correctly,he was just like, a little bit of a shy loser boy who was infatuated with the MC and liked gaming. But now... Now he's, what, a masochist? Or did they just not add that fact into the movie? You couldn't have forgotten. If the love interest was openly a weirdo like he is to you, you wouldn't have dozed off in the first place. Just now, he literally asked to be crushed under your right shoe. Crushed. Under. Your. Shoe. How the hell is that boring? You'd be 101% AWAKE. You love freaks more than anything, damn!

Now that you think about it, he's more than just a bit of a weirdo.

He's been calling and acting like he's your boyfriend. Hell, he acts like a CLINGY boyfriend too. Asking where you're going, clinging to you, giving you those damned boba eyes everytime you talk to others, specifically dudes. Fun fact but you wish he'd stop abusing those eyes of his because fuck, how can you resist him when he's looking at you like that?

Worse of it all, you can't do anything. Not when your key out and helper, Ai, said to act cool and to not arouse any suspicion from him.

Ai's also another character in this movie by the way. His character trope: the hot side character that barely gets screentime and is also sentient. And right now, he's helping you find a way back to your world... Meanwhile you've been stuck in Ezra's apartment under the guise of a mandatory childhood bestie sleepover.

It's been days since you've actually last seen Ai in person because of how much Ezra, your "childhood friend", has been clinging to you. In just the past 3 days, he's made you watch the entire fnaf lore theory THRICE. And not once have you stepped outside his apartment. Not because you don't want to, but because he'd always find some bullshit excuse to keep you with him.

"O-oh but kitty you'd miss this very important scene... Where freddy goes hurhurhuhr"

"Kitty! Kitty you can't leave now! We have to watch it again! What? We watch it more times so it gets engrained into our brains! That's just common sense!"

"Keeping you h-hostage?! I'm not! All friend do this! It's just u-um, friend bonding time! We haven't been around each other in so long you know..."

It's weird. Just plain weird.

Thankfully you still have your phone so you could occassionally sneak a message or two to Ai, informing him of your current situation. As long as that black haired man baby doesn't see everything is fine...

y/n: currently watching a new video, thank gyatt for that

y/n: would actually jump if i have to watch more fnaf

y/n: erm... lowkey think this is worse though... its a video about danganronpa

Ai: don't worry, i'll be there to save you in a bit

Ai: i might have found a way to get you out of here

y/n: fr? ty for that silly goober :3 all while im chilling on the couch having some me time :333 ur so skibidi

"A-ahem! y/n who are you texting..?"

Shit. This damned guy! What does he think he's doing? Just popping up the second you finally have some alone time?! Wasn't he passed out from lunch just minutes ago???

"Erm... Just a friend?"

Ezra stares at you with wide round eyes, lps turning down into a frown before he sits uncomfortably close, pressing his long, lanky body against yours. Always the tall skinny guys that are the biggest weirdos man.

"Just a... friend?"

"Yeah, just a friend."

I mean, it wasn't wrong. Ai really was just a friend to you. Or at least that's what you think. To Ezra and his fucked up mind... Maybe you were abandoning him? And now he's jealous and might want to go batshit crazy on AI?

Haha! No way that would happen! Ezra, no matter how crazy he is, wouldn't go that far! He's just a loser who has an added interest in you now after all!

The look in his eyes say otherwise though.

"But I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Cold, dark, obsessive.

The way he stared at you sent literal chills down your spine. He had never looked at you in such a way before. Pathetic and needy, yes. But never this... Whatever the hell this was.

You back into the fabric of the seat, feeling a cold sweat line the skin of your forehead. All of a sudden, the room feels all too small and it's like you're trapped in his apartment with no way to escape.

It was suffocating.

"I'm the only friend you need. The only one you need, y/n."

You don't really recall a time where he's called you y/n so easily. It's always some stupid petname like kitty. And goddamn it, you wish he'd just say that instead. Hearing him call your name while he's staring into your very soul like this is making you feel like you're about to shit your pants.

"U-uh, okay dude chill out. You're my dearest friend, alright? Look let's jsut go back to watching that danganronpa analysis..."

And just like that, the terrifying aura IMMEDIATELY disappears and you're left with a sopping wet puppy of a man. You decide to make the first move, fiddling with the remote as you stand up and move close to the coffee table. Anythinng to gte away from this weird bipolar guy. How the hell did he develop this? A new character arc maybe?

In the midst of you trying to look anywhere but Ezra, you fail to realize that he had already taken your phone, leaving you with no way to contact Ai now.

"Now you'll never have another friend again..."

"What was that?"

"O-oh I said now you'll never be bored again! Haha!"

Right, totally what he said.